There was an old maiden named Quesse the Pure
Untouched by the hand of a man.
With her cute pointed ears
And her strange groundless fears
She magicked her way 'round the land.
She found an old magestaff with sigils and runes
And took it up like a new pet.
Well, it spoke in her head
And it felt good in bed --
I guess she took what she could get.
When Quesse got dreamy we all rolled our eyes
(These elves don't go crazy by thirds)
But then lo and behold
In a dungeon of olde
Quesse found some obscure magic words.
With a crash and band and a cloud of green smoke
A new pet emerged from the old
Quesse stroked his soft hair
And she called him Tocair
And she promised him favors untold.
Well, she'd found for herself ev'ry mage's fond dream
(Familiars with brains are so rare)
With a cat's cool elan
And the shape of a man
The beast of both worlds was Tocair.
As old as the hills and as fresh as the vales
He followed her, love in his eyes.
She kept him well fed
And he slept in her bed
But no favors materialized.
Tocair tried to win her with natural charm
Like any cat he loved to nap.
She'd allow him to sleep
Curled up at her feet
But never to lie in her lap.
He fought for her honor, he bled for her health;
She bound all his wounds up with silk.
His head might well rest
Soft on her sweet breast
But her cat never got any milk.
She'd cuddle him softly and scratch 'round his ears
And he's think she would give in anon
She'd whisper sweet words
'Til he practically purred
But she'd still be a maiden, come dawn.
The battle continued and Quesse prevailed
But he fought -- he refused to concede.
In his desperate need
He appealed to her greed
And created a unicorn steed.
Overawed by his gift, she stood stone still and stared,
As he, apalled, realized his error.
"I love it," she said,
As she patted his head,
"I shall keep it forever and ever!"
See scanned version of the original with artwork! (big image file)
