With Her Jaws And Talons,

Root Of A Tree, Fruit Of A Vine, Let Me Pass By This Blood Of Mine.

You Named Your Sword Fire? Fire? What Kind Of A Boring Name Is That? You Might As Well Name Your Sword 'blazing Blade' And Be Done With It. Fire Indeed. Humph. Wouldn't You Rather Have A Sword Called Sheepbiter Or Chrysanthemum Cleaver Or Something Else With Imagination?

He Closed His Eyes And Sank Into The Warm Dusk That Separates Consciosness And Sleep, Where Reality Bends And Sways To The Wind Of Thought, And Where Creativity Blossoms In Its Freedom From Boundaries And All Things Are Possible.

From Now On You're Going To Have To Think. There's A Reason Why We're Born With Brains In Our Heads, Not Rocks.

The Name, His True Name, Was Weaker And More Flawed Than He Would Have Liked, And He Hated Himself For That, But There Was Also Much To Admire Within It, And The More He Thought About It, The More He Was Able To Accept The True Nature Of His Self. He Was Not The Best Person In The World, But Neither Was He The Worst.