To be amidst them, and not work, would be
to invoke their supreme contempt and irritation, and leave her feeling
so low as to wish she were already dead, and that on top of her status
as the lowest of the low for her reputation as an idol-breaker.
Si'Wren considered all, and felt renewed remorse at what terrible fate
had befallen her. As long as she could remember, Si'Wren had always
been a hard worker, and a willing one too. Just like Nelatha, whose
comforting, characteristic voice she missed so desperately.
But now she was to be in constant fear for her life, alone in the
world, and alone among men. All by herself now, she peered
expressionlessly across the wild landscape, as the wind blew strands of
dark hair across her eyes, and began weeping for fear and loneliness.
Her eyes, blurred by tears, swept the nearby foliage, seeking anything
that moved. Was not a swift hunting beast's charge always a surprise to
the victim? Who could resist such an advance? Or how could such a one
as she manage to resist even so loathsome and demeaning a danger as the
attack of a mere pack of scavenger dogs, with their many snapping jaws?
What of the giant dire wolves, or the huge roaming bears, and fierce
prowling wild cats, and other even more unspeakable monsters such as
she might not even dream of? She remembered the trophies of the
hunters, and such were the stuff of nightmares, and she found that her
harvest field had become a place of terror.
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