Standing atop a hillside he awaits the wizard's call,
Tiny ears pricked forward alert to rise or fall.

The wind plucks at his mane and tail,
He sniffs and finds out all is well.

Intelligent eyes search the land,
Looking for danger or hazard at hand.

Then, suddenly it comes, the awaited call of need,
Summoned by the wizard, he goes to pay his heed.

Galloping across the distant plain,
He feels the wind pull at his mane.

Going faster, faster still,
He listens to the wizard's trill.

Surging through the wispy grass,
Animals stop and watch him pass.

Finally he sees the end is near,
He sees the wizard and starts to veer.

Turning towards his trusted friend,
He sees that his work does not at all end.

The wizard mounts and away they go,
Charging to go attack the foe.

He covers the mighty distance with ease,
Trying so hard the wizard to please.

Seeing the foe in which is bright,
Shadowfax rears, ready to fight.