So, uh, there is a little bit of Led Zeppelin influence on this next
One. It's a monster story, but it's a delicious one from England,
And the monster in question is Reynardine, the fox. Now,
He can take human form as shapeshifter,
But there's a rule against him, is:
He's not allowed to eat anyone who stays on the path-- which is a
Hugely unsubtly metaphor:
You stay on the path and you're safe from evil-- however!
If you manage to wander off the path, you're fair game,
And Reynardine is a master at figuring out
What will make you stray. This is Reynardine.
One evening there did ramble across the hills so fine,
A lady fair who thought to dare converse with Reynardine.
Her hair was black, her eyes were blue, her lips were red as wine
He smiled to gaze upon her, that sly bold Reynardine.
She said: "Young sir, be civil -- my company forsake
For I'm a noble damsel, and you are just some rake."
"Oh no," said he, "no rake am I, caught up in Cupid's train.
I'm a noble pilgrim who's headed home again.
I have no wife to call my own or spend my wealth upon
And lonely bed I'm bound to keep between the dusk and dawn
"If by chance you search for me, to make my fortune thine,
You'll find me in my castle. Enquire for Reynardine."
So, sun and dark she followed him, his teeth did brightly shine
He led her into the mountains
That sly old Reynardine
That hungry Reynardine
That hungry Reynardine