Azphelumbra!

What? What do you want?

Oh, apologies Daeva--I didn't mean to be sharp. I'm working on a poem, and I try not to let the other Protectors know.

I scribble down notes whenever I have some time on duty, but if I don't like them I tear them up. There are a few I saved, though...I think they're good. Would you like to hear one?

Ahem! The title is "Roast Pujery with Salt."

Roast Pujery with Salt, laid out on the table.

You are rather salty, sprinkled with too much salt.

Suddenly our eyes meet, and I flinch.

Please forgive me, Pujery.

That's the end! What do you think?

I knew you would be a good judge, Daeva.

Perhaps I'm writing at a level that the audience here can't appreciate. There aren't many people in this world who appreciate my sensitivity.

It's too bad I was only able to meet you now. Perhaps I could read you another one later.

Sigh, you're no different than my colleagues, Daeva.

No matter how subtle and perfect the poem, they just can't understand its intricacies.

Just go on your way, please.