The blood was warm and came gushing over the dark soil. The sight of it left him sickened and slightly perplexed, like a sobering man gazing on some destruction he had wrought in his stupor. His hands and forearms were covered in the sticky crimson fluid and he sat on his heels, staring at them, mesmerized. He allowed his gaze to travel to the corpse. True, it was not a hunter, but this man who had perished so easily had raised the whip countless times in irresistible power, had given instruction and was obeyed without question, had held sway over life and limb; now see how quickly such power was broken.
