Thinking of You as I Go

He came walking across a ground strewn with broken moonlight, dressed in dark robes as quiet as the night. In one hand, he carried a little yellow weasel that kept rolling its eyes. Smiling, he said to me, "A yellow weasel, an old hen with reed-colored feathers, and you: that's just enough to make three disciples."

Theme: A master-disciple romance is a no-go