Bounce up the trail of lights to the heavenly searching proud. The lions pride close the Mike on the narrow level in between the hallowed corner. Laugh at the helmet and the shield but run from the sword oh ye of the kingdom of the forest. Do you know the rights of the quarry? Dungeon mouths flee torture of the feeding kind. Lucky are the leopards that live in peace among the monkey land. The loud call echoes through the trees and desert fleas, the manger days come quickly to give their scent to the unforgiven masters of the frozen plains. What can happen to the lazy moths or the stunted claws of the capsized cats in the pit of wolves?