【生肉搬运】Shrike伯劳鸟 第一章 原文(8)
The stag was still staring. He could see himself in the reflection of its eyes: his tussled hair and his exhausted expression, the forest crowding in behind him as if the trees were also waiting for his decision.
“Fine,” relented George with a sigh. “I guess I can afford to stay. Just for a few days.”
He spent years in that forest.
The seasons passed beyond his notice. Spring to winter, fall to summer, back again in cycles that meant nothing to him. He was a god, after all, and months were seconds to him. He could hold a human’s entire lifetime in the cup of his hand.
Most days, he walked.
He found that it took him two weeks to walk the forest from end to end, not counting the breaks he was forced to take on account of the stag that insisted on following him around, lured by the promise of more berries. It probably wasn’t helping matters that George always had some in his pocket. Sometimes, they would find rivers for the stag to stand in while George tossed him berries from the banks, his trousers rolled up to his knees, the cold rushing water almost sweeping him off his feet. On one occasion, he did get swept into the currents, and he floated easily downstream with the rest of the forest’s debris. He didn’t struggle, didn’t even try to swim to shore. He could feel the world blurring around him, and was alright. He was alright.
“Fine,” relented George with a sigh. “I guess I can afford to stay. Just for a few days.”
He spent years in that forest.
The seasons passed beyond his notice. Spring to winter, fall to summer, back again in cycles that meant nothing to him. He was a god, after all, and months were seconds to him. He could hold a human’s entire lifetime in the cup of his hand.
Most days, he walked.
He found that it took him two weeks to walk the forest from end to end, not counting the breaks he was forced to take on account of the stag that insisted on following him around, lured by the promise of more berries. It probably wasn’t helping matters that George always had some in his pocket. Sometimes, they would find rivers for the stag to stand in while George tossed him berries from the banks, his trousers rolled up to his knees, the cold rushing water almost sweeping him off his feet. On one occasion, he did get swept into the currents, and he floated easily downstream with the rest of the forest’s debris. He didn’t struggle, didn’t even try to swim to shore. He could feel the world blurring around him, and was alright. He was alright.
两a相逢必有一o的肉在第几章
