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She is representative of the last remnants of white beauty. When our men come to die in the trenches of World War Race War, we will dream of the chance to lay with such a woman. For it is better to lay with the frailest of our white kind than the mongrel blood that roam the innercities, in search for white blood. Her blood is our blood. Her heritage is our heritage. She is the beacon for which men shall be led to their death in battle against the mudblood horde. She is the final light. The final prayer. The memory of a bygone time. A time of white ascension and pride. A time of purity and brotherhood. We fight for her. We fight for Bunny.
