midday
There was a rhythm that ran through it , like poetry , yet not like average poetry , where the rhythm is forced and the lines deformed to its ungainly warble , but like heavenly poetry , where the rhythm is beyond the conscious and into the subconscious , where it inspires a feeling of quaint remembrance of itself , as if it were there and not there at the same time . And while it was soft and pleasant , it was not feminine , for it was a strong baritone , reinforced by its own superiority and strengthened by its wit and sobriety . `` Greetings , o ' chosen one , '' he said to me , `` I see that you have arrived safely . '' `` Yes , quite soundly , '' I replied , a little taken aback on two fronts : firstly that he was not angry or indignant that I had attempted to destroy his kingdom and take his life in the process , and secondly that he seemed to expect me , as if I were his midday tea partner . `` I am glad , for I would wish you no harm , though your Canitaurian friends obviously felt no such concern . But just as well , for they always were unpredictable . I 'm sorry that there is no one here at the moment , or we should have a great welcoming parade for our newly arrived kinsman redeemer , but they are off at the lake , inspecting the fire I suppose .