//------------------------------//
// Canto II 
// Story: The Song of the Mandrake Queen 
// by Tavifag 
//------------------------------//

The doctor diligently sought
A cure for Carrot Sprout
But soon it seemed ‘twas all for naught
And time was running out

He wrote to colleagues far and wide
Read all the books he had
He looked and searched, but none supplied
Salvation for the lad

The doc's poor wits were near their end
And worked right to the bone
When he received word from his friend
In distant Griffonstone

It seemed the griffons had a brew
For Red Plague and its ilk:
Three cups of frost salts, cold and blue
Mixed with some buttermilk

While those two things were common fare
The potion needed more
Its final part was very rare
And steeped in myth and lore:

Born from the hearts of windigos
That brim with icy chill
A flower grown in bitter snows,
The Crystal Daffodil.

But some old griffons had the skill
To find the bloom of ice
They’d ship some off to Ponyville
If paid the proper price

The letter then went on to state
The flower’s crushing cost
The doctor knew at that high rate
That Carrot Sprout was lost

For Ponyville was not a town
Imbued with massive wealth
And none could put the money down
To save the young lad’s health

He set the letter to the side
And though his stomach churned,
He went to solemnly confide
The news that he had learned.

Meanwhile, the carrot-farming mare
Was doing her utmost
To stop the sick child in her care
From giving up the ghost

Her many friends did what they could
To aid her in this task
They came because their hearts were good,
She didn’t have to ask.

Sprout’s kindly friend from down the way
Brought water from her well
And came to help him pass each day
Her name was Sweetie Belle

Though weak and sick, young Carrot Sprout
Did not fall to despair
He’d smile and laugh, he’d joke and shout
While in his sweet friend’s care

And when poor Sprout just had to sleep
She left most gracefully,
She crept downstairs without a peep
And joined his mom for tea

As they were sharing their Earl Grey
A rap came on the door
The doc arrived with much to say
About the bitter cure

And when he shared the sky-high rate
To get what Sprout would need,
The farmer’s heart was filled with hate;
She cursed the griffons’ greed.

As Carrot Top began to cry
The doctor hugged her tight,
But Sweetie wouldn’t let Sprout die;
She swore that she would fight!

She let the grieving mother be
And headed home with haste,
For if she wanted victory
There was no time to waste

Though nobody in Ponyville
Alone was rich enough
Together, they could pay the bill
It wouldn’t be that tough!

And so the noble Sweetie Belle
Embarked on her bold quest
To end her good friend’s living hell
And let the poor colt rest.