duty without pain
#2
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401.



Jealousy of a sort coursed through her as crimson eyes watched from afar. How easily and skillfully the little hare lost its life was mentally recorded as Nayru surveyed the scene from high up in the tree she had climbed. The old oak towered above most others and she was well up in the branches, but her sharp eyes understood what was happening. Why could he kill and she could not? It should be in her blood, an instinct hard to ignore, but instead the idea of letting blood run from others was upsetting. Although she readily and happily accepted meat from Bris and Conor, she couldn’t bear to catch it herself. Silent, small Nayru was apt at stalking and sneaking, finding the game was not hard at all. She could track almost anything, wolves included, but coming upon them she could do no more.



As she lowered herself down, branch by branch, two hands holding on to the branch above her as two legs felt for footholds beneath, she thought about the spider she had killed once. It had been her only purposeful kill, although Nayru was sure that many other insects were subjected to a similar fate without her ever realizing it. The spider had of course made no noise as she squashed it beneath a clumsy puppy paw, but other animals would. Rabbits would squeak, birds caw, and other animals made similar noises right before death took them, unless one was swift enough. Nayru hadn’t heard it but she wondered if the hare the male carried in his maw had made such a noise, she shuddered thinking of it, but headed towards his direction once her feet met the ground.



Although without the aid of the oak tree’s vantage point the male was out of sight, she quickly found him again and was soon in his path way, her figure remarkable dainty in comparison to his, even as she stood taller than him on two feet. So delicate and thin she was, her size lent an air of grace as she bowed low to the male, one she knew not the name for. Meeting crimson eyes with golden ones, Nayru’s voice was fittingly gentle for her small self. ”Excuse me sir, my name’s Nayru.” She stood there, as if wanting something more, but not saying what, and just what that was Nayru wasn’t even sure she knew herself.



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