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Orual · 04-09-2003, 08:55 PM

Dôranna grimaced when she heard Manituros' name called. She knew him from the fields; they had spoken, once. She had not seen him since his accident, but she never forgot a face, especially one that smiled at her.

She watched him struggle up to the podium, and nearly winced. He was more badly injured than she had guessed. The Hunt would be dreadful for all of them, but it would be a nightmare for Manituros. He recited the loathesome speech, then took his place among the Hunted. She did not fix her stare on him, because she realized that he probably got stared at more than he wanted, but her heart went out to him and she lifted up a prayer for him. If anyone needed the intercession of the Valar, it was Manituros.

She glanced quickly at the others in the row with her. She did not know them, but her instincts were generally good, and her first impressions rarely wrong. She frowned in pity as she looked at them, then turned her eyes down. She had been in servitude longer than these people had been alive. Many of them were so very young; they should not have to fear death like this.

The Hunters were called up, and Dôranna did not recognize most of them. But when Ranchard was called up, the Elf shuddered. She had heard rumours of this Easterling; they said he was insane, hardly in touch with reality, but that he knew when there was an opportunity to kill and always snatched it up. The wild look in his eyes and the apelike way he carried himself did nothing to say otherwise, and Dôranna swallowed hard and had to make a fierce effort to keep the fear from her face. This was not working out the way she had wanted. Where was the calm and rationality that her father had instilled in her? What was this terror that she felt? She had been facing death since they called her up--since she had been captured, actually. She knew that the six Hunters they chose would be bent on her demise, and would enjoy killing her. Why did the appearance of Ranchard change everything?

She tried not to, but she shrank away when Ranchard approached her. "Yes, Ranchard will like disecting you my dear, with a curved blade I will remove your liver..." he said, and Dôranna inhaled sharply. The Easterling laughed, but Dôranna had to fight back tears. This was wrong, this was all wrong...

And for the first time in years, Dôranna Celebyavë was really, truly, and acutely, afraid.

04-09-2003, 08:55 PM	#39
Orual Speaker of the Dead Join Date: Oct 2002 Location: Superbia Posts: 868	Dôranna grimaced when she heard Manituros' name called. She knew him from the fields; they had spoken, once. She had not seen him since his accident, but she never forgot a face, especially one that smiled at her. She watched him struggle up to the podium, and nearly winced. He was more badly injured than she had guessed. The Hunt would be dreadful for all of them, but it would be a nightmare for Manituros. He recited the loathesome speech, then took his place among the Hunted. She did not fix her stare on him, because she realized that he probably got stared at more than he wanted, but her heart went out to him and she lifted up a prayer for him. If anyone needed the intercession of the Valar, it was Manituros. She glanced quickly at the others in the row with her. She did not know them, but her instincts were generally good, and her first impressions rarely wrong. She frowned in pity as she looked at them, then turned her eyes down. She had been in servitude longer than these people had been alive. Many of them were so very young; they should not have to fear death like this. The Hunters were called up, and Dôranna did not recognize most of them. But when Ranchard was called up, the Elf shuddered. She had heard rumours of this Easterling; they said he was insane, hardly in touch with reality, but that he knew when there was an opportunity to kill and always snatched it up. The wild look in his eyes and the apelike way he carried himself did nothing to say otherwise, and Dôranna swallowed hard and had to make a fierce effort to keep the fear from her face. This was not working out the way she had wanted. Where was the calm and rationality that her father had instilled in her? What was this terror that she felt? She had been facing death since they called her up--since she had been captured, actually. She knew that the six Hunters they chose would be bent on her demise, and would enjoy killing her. Why did the appearance of Ranchard change everything? She tried not to, but she shrank away when Ranchard approached her. "Yes, Ranchard will like disecting you my dear, with a curved blade I will remove your liver..." he said, and Dôranna inhaled sharply. The Easterling laughed, but Dôranna had to fight back tears. This was wrong, this was all wrong... And for the first time in years, Dôranna Celebyavë was really, truly, and acutely, afraid. __________________ "Oh, my god! I care so little, I almost passed out!" --Dr. Cox, "Scrubs"