Cold steel carving into dark stone
Crimson-orange showering the freshly cut wood,
Scent of pine and resin wafting through the air,
Sizzles and hisses screaming out into the night.
As embers grew from faint glow
To a roaring flame, the dancer,
Performing its radiant piece,
For all to see.
As songs ring out round the flame,
Ale spills onto the dry, cracked dirt,
Late autumn air chilling my bones,
Save for the warmth of that campfire.
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