Book 27. (1 results) Prize of Gor (Individual Quote)
| Chapter # | Sentence # | Quote |
|---|---|---|
| 20 | 369 | The lead tarnsman loosed, as he could, arrow after arrow into the body of the attacking bird, and then, drawing his sword, for he carried no lance, tried to close with it, to strike it somehow, across the back of the neck, in that tumbling tangle of rage and hunger. |
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Book 27. (7 results) Prize of Gor (Context Quote)
| Chapter # | Sentence # | Quote |
|---|---|---|
| 20 | 366 | He cried out in fury, trying to fend away the beak. |
| 20 | 367 | The two birds wheeled, and spun in the air, falling, climbing, screaming, falling. |
| 20 | 368 | The tarnsman's bird, doubtless a war tarn, scenting blood and battle, almost on its back on the sky, ripped upward with its talons at its wild brother. |
| 20 | 369 | The lead tarnsman loosed, as he could, arrow after arrow into the body of the attacking bird, and then, drawing his sword, for he carried no lance, tried to close with it, to strike it somehow, across the back of the neck, in that tumbling tangle of rage and hunger. |
| 20 | 370 | The other tarns, strung together, but not controlled, struck about, erratically. |
| 20 | 371 | Different birds beat their way, confused, frightened, in different directions, and were then jerked up short, and lines began to twist, and the birds to scream. |
| 20 | 372 | Feathers drifted toward the ground. |
|
He cried out in fury, trying to fend away the beak.
The two birds wheeled, and spun in the air, falling, climbing, screaming, falling.
The tarnsman's bird, doubtless a war tarn, scenting blood and battle, almost on its back on the sky, ripped upward with its talons at its wild brother.
The lead tarnsman loosed, as he could, arrow after arrow into the body of the attacking bird, and then, drawing his sword, for he carried no lance, tried to close with it, to strike it somehow, across the back of the neck, in that tumbling tangle of rage and hunger.
The other tarns, strung together, but not controlled, struck about, erratically.
Different birds beat their way, confused, frightened, in different directions, and were then jerked up short, and lines began to twist, and the birds to scream.
Feathers drifted toward the ground.
- (Prize of Gor, Chapter 20)