A slothairan will lead them, riding to war on back of turtle most sacred, cross the 7th shore.,Slowly charging forward claws held high, avoiding trees, and temptation/The battle draws nigh. Passing butterfly s salute holding banners high. To enemy city they then fly.
Sloth Lord dose enter and not a sound can be heard, as for the enemy there is nary a word.
All eyes then turn then, to consult the sloth sage, looking up from his book, after turning a page, he, pauses and then says, upon returning there gaze: I'm sorry my friends: They have died of old age.