Once upon an otherwise sleepy Roarkian eve,
whilst I poked at an equally sleepy squirrel,
I heard - and the trees did with me grieve -
at what sounded like an explosive quarrel!
I took the windy forest paths
cautiously and with skies so clear,
as Night covered the land in Her veil,
I looked up, and saw it there!

Through yonder window, above the trees,
between a lake, a pond, a stream -
the Greenhouse rose out of the canopy
furtively as if from within a dream.
Through the glass, twin figures paced -
'round a plant growing from the loam:
bathed in the light of the radiant Full Moon
the silvery moonglory plant - abloom!

The first? Go on, take a guess -
Abeytu! - for who else could it have been?
Brandishing an old and well-worn rake
in front of the flower he thus did ward!
The second, stood an elfen maiden fair,
bedazzling in her grace -
to seek the moonfruit for a prophecy -
'twasn't for whimsy, she insisted - but on a most Epic quest.

She begged and pleaded in cajoling tones,
and even logic and pettifoggery to no avail.
She tried to sway him with passionate please
which became punctuated by discontent stamping of her feet!
She even tried the age-old trick - ha! -
of pointing behind his back to the mists that'd formed,
where (and very much to the maiden's subsequent surprise)
unbeknownst to Abeytu, a shadow glided forth.

But wait! What's that sneaking through the fog -
the strange treelike silhouette I see?
With branches tipped with countless stars
weaving gently to and fro?
Ever closer, ever near - a cloud...
of fireflies in a chaotic dance? Oh!
'Tis just Hart surreptitiously approaching, but -
a lunge, then suddenly... *CHOMP!*