Nin was hopping along one day when he came across a great black raven. The raven was sitting over the corpse of a rabbit, poking and prodding at it with his instruments.
“What are you doing?” asked Nin. He was concerned to see the dead body of a brother desecrated so brazenly.
“Why, I’m learning about rabbits,” replied the raven. “By dissecting this rabbit I am learning how it works. The muscle groups, the organs, the arteries and so forth—rabbit nature, if you will. Come and see.”
Nin hopped closer and the raven pointed to various parts of the rabbit. The raven was quite knowledgeable, he showed Nin the heart, the liver and explained to him their functions. And while it was true that Nin learned quite a bit about rabbit anatomy, he found no wisdom in the corpse.
Still, wanting to thank the raven, he said, “If you wish to learn rabbit nature, there is only so much this dead body can teach you. You should observe me, a living rabbit.”
The raven dismissed this offer: “No thank you,” he said, “that sounds rather exhausting. You hop around too much, and never sit still. How could I ever study you?”
“But hopping around is rabbit nature,” said Nin.
The raven turned back to his corpse. “Yes, the tendons in the hind legs do seem to indicate that.” He prodded the dead rabbit’s foot. “I must dig deeper.”
Nin tried again. “You could just watch me. I could directly transmit that knowledge to you.”
But the raven shooed him away. “You’re just distracting me now. Can’t you see I’m studying? Leave me be!”