He looked at the deer, contemplating what he had done. The animal’s eyes were still open, and they were beautiful: round and glassy and gentle. “I’m sorry,” he murmured.
I’d think Murtagh would be too pragmatic and too hardened by his experiences to be sad about killing a deer for Thorn, who’s in dire straits rn. Not only does this make him ring similar to Eragon, but part of me can’t ignore that this is born from Paolini’s vegetarian bias rather than it being an aspect of Murtagh’s character.
