We all one day go Below, to live in the worm kingdom, to be reborn into the green and growing world. This is the way of things.
Someone in the hole has been blocking off the path to the Green, has been stealing from the worm kingdom, has been waking those in the dreamless sleep.
This is rude. This is not the way of things.
The dragonling has a cleansing shout. It restores dreamless ones to better harmony.
The hole is congested with sadnesses. It coughs-coughs, forces travelers out.
The afternoon sun is not the moon, but it is warm and it is glad and it is yellow-orange alive.
The sun sees that the travelers are weeping red that dreams of below, seeks to return to below. The dwarf must rest that he may make his many consolations.
The bird man climbs down from the sky, laden with little joys. He is a lucky thing, a blessed thing. He is not of Below.
Friend is restless. It is time to go back into the hole. To right the sadness, bring clean breath.
The Lord of Lance Rock must go the Green.