Page 138 of Quicksilver
he watched them all run.
The wolves scaled the summit
with blades in their hands.
The drake saw them coming,
and knew where they’d stand
So there he did meet them,
and there they did clash.
And Old Mad ’Shacry
dressed the mountain in ash.
His fire ran in rivers.
It melted the snow.
There was no escaping
the glowing hot flow.
With teeth bared and dripping,
the drake trapped the Fae,
laughing with cruelty
above the warriors he’d slay.
But the wolves held their ground,
all dauntless and brave,
determined to send
Old ’Shacry to his grave.
Swift came the chant, then,
so all close could hear.
A war cry of old that
strengthened those near.
The wolves ran the charge
and at the head of the swell
came the proud Fisher King
bearing Nimerelle.
The drake saw his courage
