Little lamb, little lamb, - Is young
Not so small for long - Will be 17hh when grown
In the woods or on the sand is where you belong - Resides in the Throat
Stormy skies, stormy skies - Magic, his wings create sparks
Evaporate away
Under cage of cobalt eyes- Blue eyes
But you would rather play - Profile personality says he's playful
[ you can't stray from what you are, you're the closest thing to hell i've seen so far ]
[ use of force/magic on him is permitted aside from death/maiming ]