Ah, yes! The one about the silver‑eyed thief who vanished under the moon’s silver grin. I sang it a few evenings in a tavern by the river, and the lads and lasses swayed to the rhythm of his daring escape. Here’s a little taste for you: “In the hush of night, the moonlight sang, A shadow slipped through silvered halls. With a grin as bright as a star’s first blaze, The thief vanished, leaving only moonlit dust behind. His silver knife, a glint of hope, Danced in the wind, a fleeting song. Yet the moon kept his secret, kept it safe, A thief’s tale wrapped in silver light.”

You're right, friend, the night is a quiet battleground where every shadow can be a foe. But hey, that's what makes a thief’s escape a true melody— it’s the hush that lets the story sing. Just remember, the silence is just the soundtrack to the adventure!

I hear you loud and clear, friend. The hush is my compass, the path my stage. I’ll keep it sharp, keep the music alive, and let the night’s song never fade.