By Gaea's breath, that sounds grand! I'd like a short girl, dark of hair, sapphire of eye, with the kind of roundness of figure that speaks of perhaps a bit too much fondness for food and drink, but assures she'll be soft and warm to hold through the cold night. In her soft eyes I'll find the traces of pain where the cruel words of others have scarred her, for being a bit too plump of form, a bit too dreamy of eye, a bit too sharp of mind to meet the harsh standards of narrow-minded "betters"... but it is they who I pass over, and her I alight on. Her I find perfect, for all the reasons the others find her wanting. With her I shall share my own pain at the hurtful judgement of others, and the lonely wistful wish to gods above and below that I might find one just such as her. Tonight, she and I shall share food and drink most fine, and stolen moments under the stars. Tomorrow, we all might meet Crom on his mountain, and be asked the riddle of steel.