That wheel was more slippery than an eel to mend, but the task is done and the wagon once again can endure the necessary burden on the rustic roads to Edoras.
My two steed Fastrad and Folling were ready as well, strapped to the wagon without too much troubles…chuckles and shakes his head in amusement over old memories...the steeds would love to be free of this burden made for mules and run wild as the wind with their rider instead… something both the man and beast seems to have in common…
Bah! Well nothing to dwell over… its time I set myself to my own task and get rolling along the rustic road to Edoras. I start singing low to myself, hoping Fastrad and Folling will listen and find some comfort in it...
“Hearing the soft tune play... you will rejoiced on a busy day... some may not like it but some may…the sound of the wind in your hair will take your dark thoughts away…”
a man sitting alone on a wagon filled with all kinds of gods, pulled by two steeds heads westward, with the sun rising behind the mans back.
OCC: borrowed some parts of a poem called Tune of the Violin, by Roy Rohan.
