A short memorium

There is a rock which sits just outwards from Shadowdale.   Eastward from silverhands farm and south-westward from the ant warrens.  By this rock stands a sun elf, dressed in an assortment of furs and bones.  Next to him sits a dragon, its eyes watchful and filled with a curiosity as it watches this elf.    A saddened face draws upon this rock, crushed berries leaving a red trail of letters.   It wraps around the stone and upon completion tells a poem.
He remains by this rock for several hours, eyes fixated upon the rock, focused and yet absent.  His lips are drawn tight and posture  withdrawn.   The young bronze dragon remains as well, keeping quiet and observant.

I and Pangur Ban my cat,
'Tis a like task we are at:
Hunting mice is his delight,
Hunting words I sit all night.

Better far than praise of men
'Tis to sit with book and pen;
Pangur bears me no ill-will,
He too plies his simple skill.

Tis a merry task to see
At our tasks how glad are we,
When at home we sit and find
Entertainment to our mind.

Oftentimes a mouse will stray
In the hero Pangur's way;
Oftentimes my keen thought set
Takes a meaning in its net.

'Gainst the wall he sets his eye
Full and fierce and sharp and sly;
'Gainst the wall of knowledge I
All my little wisdom try.

When a mouse darts from its den,
O how glad is Pangur then!
O what gladness do I prove
When I solve the doubts I love!

So in peace our task we ply,
Pangur Ban, my cat, and I;
In our arts we find our bliss,
I have mine and he has his.

Practice every day has made
Pangur perfect in his trade;
I get wisdom day and night
Turning darkness into light.