” yes, but not here where they can see you. This tragedy would be compounded if the nutrients and sustenance the poor creature could provide went to waste. At least in its death it can still serve a purpose.”
Iden opens his eyes and takes a moment to process the situation. Looking at Thrynn, it is hard for Iden to fully understand why he is so broken up about what happened. As people barge in and make comments Iden will put his head in his hands.
“It seems the north gives people a dark sense of humor. As is now very obvious there is no danger and my tent is not very big so it might be best for everyone other than Thrynn to get out.”
Turning to Thrynn.
“Thank you my friend for worrying about me and sorry that the threat was this animal.”
Skalma is suddenly assaulted by a pang of guilt when Iden chastises them. As a ranger, she is accustomed to the cycle of life and death - the reality that some must die in order for others to live. In nature, in the simplicity of the hunt, questions of morality rarely arise. There is just eating and surviving, or starving and perishing.
She gives honour to the things she kills, for the strength they give her, but she's never found herself wracked by guilt for feeding from the land. Viletta seems to see it the same way. And Thrynn's words suggest he shares the same belief, but there is sadness in him too for the unintended, unnecessary loss of life. Druids could be strange like that, viewing animals as people, but the more she walked the wilds, the more she seemed to see through that perspective. Her disquiet for Blurg's death had bubbled up from the same well of feeling, and so her empathy for Thrynn grows.
"I'm so sorry, Thrynn." She says, giving the druid's shoulder another squeeze before acquiescing to Iden's request. The goliath returns to her tent, taking a few quiet minutes to right the collapsed poles and settle the canvas back into place. Soon after, she steps out into the night to take her watch, sweeping the beam of her bullseye lantern through the darkness.
” yes, but not here where they can see you. This tragedy would be compounded if the nutrients and sustenance the poor creature could provide went to waste. At least in its death it can still serve a purpose.”
Iden opens his eyes and takes a moment to process the situation. Looking at Thrynn, it is hard for Iden to fully understand why he is so broken up about what happened. As people barge in and make comments Iden will put his head in his hands.
“It seems the north gives people a dark sense of humor. As is now very obvious there is no danger and my tent is not very big so it might be best for everyone other than Thrynn to get out.”
Turning to Thrynn.
“Thank you my friend for worrying about me and sorry that the threat was this animal.”
Skalma is suddenly assaulted by a pang of guilt when Iden chastises them. As a ranger, she is accustomed to the cycle of life and death - the reality that some must die in order for others to live. In nature, in the simplicity of the hunt, questions of morality rarely arise. There is just eating and surviving, or starving and perishing.
She gives honour to the things she kills, for the strength they give her, but she's never found herself wracked by guilt for feeding from the land. Viletta seems to see it the same way. And Thrynn's words suggest he shares the same belief, but there is sadness in him too for the unintended, unnecessary loss of life. Druids could be strange like that, viewing animals as people, but the more she walked the wilds, the more she seemed to see through that perspective. Her disquiet for Blurg's death had bubbled up from the same well of feeling, and so her empathy for Thrynn grows.
"I'm so sorry, Thrynn." She says, giving the druid's shoulder another squeeze before acquiescing to Iden's request. The goliath returns to her tent, taking a few quiet minutes to right the collapsed poles and settle the canvas back into place. Soon after, she steps out into the night to take her watch, sweeping the beam of her bullseye lantern through the darkness.