A prince survives by unseen acts. At night the chief advisor knocked at Frederick`s workroom in the tower and found him formulating facts for treatises on wingèd power while his penman turned out text. It was in this aerie room he`d walked all night with her on arm, turbulent and barely fledged. Whatever plans then sprang to mind, whatever fondness deeply chimed in recollection he would trash and tend the frightened and impassioned thing he wished to understand. Every night he made a time for nothing but the young unhandled animal. It was her staring inborn mind he`d worked to learn, so he was lofted with her grace when she, the bird that nobles praise, thrown gleaming from his hand (her wingbeats raised into the heartfelt morning air) and diving like an angel struck the hern.SourceThe script ran 0.001 seconds.
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