Eld wrinkled his nose and sniffed the air: "Is there... a fire in the cabin? Arthur, what were you burning just now?"
At these words, Arthur nonchalantly deflected with a sonnet: "I tossed her letter into the fire, she called me a dog, I laughed in agreement. If only longing could burn away, then her face wouldn't haunt my dreams every night."
Upon hearing the poem, a smug look appeared on Eld's face: "Arthur, I didn't expect you to know it by heart. How is it? Isn't this poem quite Byronic?"
Arthur, hearing this, had to pinch his nose and admit: "If I were to say that you're already a poet on par with Byron, that would probably be an overstatement. But I must say, this piece indeed captures a certain Lord Byron charm."
"Really?" Eld was pleasantly surprised: "Which of Byron's poems do you think this resembles?"
