Salutations, my friends, for you all know my name
Is Nick D’Arteri, hunter and stalker of game,
Through the planes and the æther, I drift on a flood,
That is formed by the deluge of mystical blood,
I search through the worlds for their big game to hunt,
And care only for bulls, I care not for the runt,
This hunting’s required, it’s one of my needs,
Though the locals, quite often, will scoff at my deeds,
On the far plane of Naya, I thought it was odd,
When I slayed a behemoth, they all said, “my god!”
Then I wandered to Tarkir, where hunting is prime,
I had wanted a dragon, but I hadn’t the time,
To Zendikar next, where I met me an elf,
Good hunting companion, I said to myself,
There was big game to hunt there, the biggest I’d seen.
"The simpler, the better," I said to Miss Green.
But my bright explanations could never quite phase her,
Despite my insistence to heed Akoum’s Razor.
So I’m leaving again, and I don’t think I’ll miss’a
That tiresome elf who had called herself Nissa.