【生肉搬运】Shrike伯劳鸟 第一章 原文(5)
The stag, because it was a stag, did not reply.
But George didn’t mind that, either.
It was nice to talk, after all his time sleeping with not even the cruel company of nightmares to entertain him. It was nicer still to talk to something that bore no judgement of him. The stag did not care that George had known, from the moment of his first breath, what he was. He’d opened his eyes, and his fate had been sealed. How did he know? How did flowers know how to grow? How did birds learn their skyward route? It was nature. It just was, a simple truth the universe had whispered into his ear upon his awakening: you are a god, you are a god, you are a god.
The stag didn’t care that George had walked the earth with flowers and trees and ecosystems growing in his wake, growing from the dents his footsteps made on soil that had known nothing of life before he came along. The stag didn’t care that George had known the earliest of humanity, had watched them grow together and then grow apart.
He had been a helpless witness of the first war the world had ever seen. He’d felt the pain of every branch turned arrow, every tree turned trebuchet, every flower crushed under the heels of a marching army. He’d felt it all, and endured it all, and by the end, he’d had to apologize to the universe.
But George didn’t mind that, either.
It was nice to talk, after all his time sleeping with not even the cruel company of nightmares to entertain him. It was nicer still to talk to something that bore no judgement of him. The stag did not care that George had known, from the moment of his first breath, what he was. He’d opened his eyes, and his fate had been sealed. How did he know? How did flowers know how to grow? How did birds learn their skyward route? It was nature. It just was, a simple truth the universe had whispered into his ear upon his awakening: you are a god, you are a god, you are a god.
The stag didn’t care that George had walked the earth with flowers and trees and ecosystems growing in his wake, growing from the dents his footsteps made on soil that had known nothing of life before he came along. The stag didn’t care that George had known the earliest of humanity, had watched them grow together and then grow apart.
He had been a helpless witness of the first war the world had ever seen. He’d felt the pain of every branch turned arrow, every tree turned trebuchet, every flower crushed under the heels of a marching army. He’d felt it all, and endured it all, and by the end, he’d had to apologize to the universe.
两a相逢必有一o的肉在第几章
