He came at night, landing on the shores of
Greece in the early dawn of day. He killed a soldier guarding
that shore.
Dionysius killed without hatred, killed quickly. Some joyed in
toying with their victims, inflicting pain. They wished to
stretch out the victory. They reveled in the growing fear felt
by their opponent. Watching in glee as their opponent realized
his impending fate and became increasingly desperate, they
delayed the inevitable. Then, when the game began to wear, they
cruelly and slowly mutilated their prey. Eventually, tiring of
the game, they dispatched the helpless victim.
Dionysius' pirate companions were of such nature. He despised
them, traveled with them only for his own ends.
Once they had made shore, dispatched the guard, he left them to
their own devices. He began a sojourn to the mountains. To the
mountains where lived Demo.
Demo pursued the deer in the foothills. They had migrated down
from the mountains during the night. He found their spoor beside
a clear branch whose cold waters they had come to drink.
Demo followed the trail from the branch deeper into the green
copses. The deer were cautious, kept moving. He pursued them as
they drifted toward the distant seaside. At times the wind
shifted, and they caught his scent. They scurried quickly into
the deeper forest.
He moved carefully from tree trunk to tree trunk, keeping the
obscuring bushes between himself and the herd.
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