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What verr would dare to slay a larl, what tarsk a sleen? Could such a thing be understood? Had not nature itself been outraged? "Peace, peace!" called Decius Albus, in his robes, soaked with the blood of Aelius. - (Plunder of Gor, Chapter 61, Sentence #278)

It had taken place. A human, one of that small, slow, fragile, weak, wretched, inferior, almost peltless stock, a small, vulnerable, despicable animal, a thing lacking claws, a soft thing, small jawed, with little in the way of fangs, had slain a High One, a Kur. One does not expect such things. What verr would dare to slay a larl, what tarsk a sleen? Could such a thing be understood? Had not nature itself been outraged? "Peace, peace!" called Decius Albus, in his robes, soaked with the blood of Aelius. "Kill all humans!" screamed a Kur, and seized a man, tearing off an arm, and biting through the throat, blood running between the fangs, and running like water down its chest. Men cried out, scattering, fleeing toward the two lines of soldiers. This flight seemed to stimulate many of the Kurii, who, if undecided a moment before, were now precipitate in their pursuit. - (Plunder of Gor)