"Mount, my lord of Long Cleeve."
The boy cried.
"Goblins are not far away, I do believe!"
"My horse! Now I must ride."
The Bullroarer roared.
"It is passed time that these foes died!"
"A horse, my lord?"
The boy said in reply.
"Surely a pony would serve against this horde?"
"No pony shall bear me as I stand so high."
The Bullroarer chuckled.
"To see me so tall shall cause them to fly!"
"Here is your horse, ready and buckled."
The boy spoke with glee.
"To see your sword shall make them so troubled!"
"No sword for me."
The Bullroarer exclaimed.
"My club is over there by the tree!"
"A club, against enemies so untamed?"
The boy gave as advice.
"A sword cuts much deeper, so it is claimed!"
"A club for me shall suffice."
The Bullroarer decreed.
"With it I shall crush them like mice!"
"Now you have you club and your steed."
The boy heeled.
"Is there aught else that you need?"
"Let us tarry no longer behind our shields."
The Bullroarer boomed.
"On towards battle, in the Greenfields!"
