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“Iron, iron, iron,� sang the cyhyraeth. “It burns in our bones, sings in our veins. We used to fear it, you know, but now it’s in the streams, in the rains, in the trees. We will never escape it—and so, we shall drown the ones who made it.
“You think rabbits do not feel fear?� Cigfa scoffed. “That a deer’s heart does not pound when it flees? That fowl cannot feel pain?� She stepped toward Branwen and Pryderi. “Unlike your kind, mine do not lie to ourselves. Every hunt is a cruelty.�
