Bristle

Laser, come on!

Maybe I'd name him like Bristle.

Oh, that's cute.

Bristle's cute, like for a girl.

Bristle and Laser, can you imagine? Cutest family ever.

Like Mars and Moon?

Yeah, Bristle and Laser.

Bristle, like a bristle of a brush.

Then pierce the doe With whirl of hempen-thonged Balearic sling, While snow lies deep, and streams are drifting ice.

What need to tell of autumn's storms and stars, And therefore men must watch, when now the day Grows shorter and more soft the summer's heat, When Spring the rain-bringer comes rushing down, Or when the beards of harvest on the plain Bristle already, and the milky corn On its green stalk is swelling? Many a time, When now the farmer to his yellow fields The reaping hine came bringing, even in act To lop the brittle barley stems, have I Seen all the windy legions clash in war Together, as to rend up far and wide The heavy corn-crop from its lowest roots And toss it skyward.

So might winter's flaw, Dark eddying, whirl light stalks and flying straws.

Oft too comes looming vast along the sky A march of waters.