Work Text:
Untitled challenge response
by GloryLight
Sitting aloft the pot of gold
He fingered the cluster of a four leaf clover in his callused hands.
His emerald top hat casting a shadow over the small greenery he palmed.
Realizing the symbolism he created,
he stood and ground the lucky charm into the dust.
Rainbows cannot be seen through the miasmic darkness his form created,
his short frame lengthened by the sun's bright rays.
Leprauchans are never lucky themselves.