Her mind is fresh and abolden with knowledge.
Her hair thick and black as night, drapes her tender shoulders.
Her strength, unmatched for if she be in armor the battle is won.
Her tongue sharp as a new blade, many have felt it's wrath.
Her eyes brown and full of ancient wisdom, with a tinge of regret.
For tis our lot that regret touch us all.
Her offspring is her reason to draw breath and protect them she does. As the fierce mother bear to her cubs.
Her faith is the stand out of this gentle spirit. Many have tried to break it, defeated are they as yesterday's warriors.
So challenge not this lass, lest ye find yourself awant for victory.
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