Caleb Constantine Forward

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A great stag stood atop the embankment opposite — ten, maybe fifteen yards away. So close that he could smell the thing, a rank, wild musk, and see the suppurating wound in its side where a hunter’s spear must have gone in. So close that he could see, or thought he could see, the expression in its eyes, mournful and proud.
Caleb Constantine Forward
Why add "mournfu and proud"?
In the Night Wood
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