>>> A tale...

... of not much import.

Or so it seems.

Read on, MacDuff, read on.

They were Hunters, lean and well-meaning.

'Twas a Stag, frustrated and fatigued.

They laid in wait.

It walked in unknowning.

They sprang to the attack.

It fled, twisting and leaping.

They hunted without pause.

It backed into a corner.

They stood ready, unflinching. It submitted to Its end, a bloodless death, shot through to Its heart. A plaintive cry upon Its lips as It fell.

"Maketh not promises not easily kept, for such are empty and akin to the broken."

And so ends a tale of not much import.

Alas, there is not much more.

A good night to you, Lords and Ladies.

Good night.