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. (Cloven-hooved animals feel naturally superior to
those with unsplit hooves: the horses, the centaurs, even the
pegasi.) "How typical," the stag said to himself, "that they
would degrade themselves in that obedience, as close to the
stars as they are."
Even after a long and often painful history, the stag was
quite sensitive of his honor.
He entered the glade and called, as much command as
request: "Master."
"I am here." The unicorn had returned to the rock
above the glade.
Forestmaster and stag stood poised, as though pausing
before re-entering an old ritual. Each knew what the other
would say.
Still they looked, as though they could not help
themselves. The stag stood proud and erect, as though
posing for a statue. Every hard muscle and taut sinew, every
sharp line of limb and deadly point of antler, was etched in
shadows. As with all shadows in Darken Wood, they
seemed deep and full of death.
The Forestmaster herself seemed all light, as though
the curse that held the Wood could never touch her. Her
mane shone and half-floated, and the arch and curve of her
neck seemed to draw all the way down her flanks and stop
only at the ground. Only her eyes were dark, and those not
the tainted shadows of Darken Wood but the liquid
blackness of a wild thing's eyes, pure and powerful nature
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