Upon delicate tendrils of frost
I glide to and fro, my form lost
To the eyes of those who pass
Upon snow-laden mountains that amass.

But who is this upon my spot?
Upon henna slippers does she trot,
A woman of wild, flaming curls,
Her breath a-mist in frozen furls.

A shrill scream, then a sudden blow,
My body beaten beyond anything I know,
Suddenly amoung long-trodden halls,
My fate to the Endbringer it falls.

White light fills my eyes again,
Alive and whole, though as I begin
To access my surroundings, upon a rock,
A hidden serpent my gaze did lock.

"This time," I thought, "I will prevail!"
And darting forward without fail,
I sank my fangs into this creature,
And upon his face pain did feature.

With a sudden cry, Bonko fell,
To the crystal spider in wintry dell,
For when serpents and spiders come together,
Though neither pretty, spiders do the better.

And so this day, a crystal spider won,
For having slain a cruel Mhaldorian,
Upon whose neck did said being possess
A sun-hued choker with blood a-mess.

Penned by my hand on the 9th of Daedalan, in the year 632 AF.