I recieved an e-mail the other day, from someone (no idea who) tipped me about a text wick might give me some inspiration. And so it did...Here somes the text : 'Barbaric poetry, this beast of dreams...a behemoth winged stallion that stands none too shy of 23 hands..callous hide slicked with a darkened and dusky coat of burnished copper bronze. Wind torn mane and tail of the richest ebony ..steel wrought limbs shadowed to the same velvet raven..lavishly feathered fetlocks framing broad battle cracked hooves - hooves oiled in the spilled vitae of those who have sought to cage him. Glorious..Oh glorious! The Gods themselves would nurse an envy! Feathered pinions of black laced chocolate hues span well 'pon forty feet from dinosaurian shoulders...wild...wolfish...skull of vicious beauty carried high atop a thickly arched neck..braided flesh drawn taunt beneath scar-laced hide. Rabid eyes of seething honey hues gleam moodily behind the labyrinth tangle of unkempt forelock...such intriguing eyes....lupine gems that sing a soundless song of the winds between worlds. None yet know from whence this beast came. Flung from the thrash of wind frenzied ocean waves some declared. Perhaps borne of storm shrouded mountain peaks, still others would say. Still, there are those who whisper that this monstrous equine 'tis a direct descendant of Sleipnir, the immortal eight legged stallion whom carried the God of the Vikings upon his blackened withers. Rumors, legends? Indeed...but walk softly, dear reader...behind every legend skulks a sliver of truth.' The text was written by Josh Kurvink.