She sat under the sacred fig tree. The clouds drifted lazily above, the butterflies danced, a solitary ant crept across the lacquer face of the Princess’s birdhouse.
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Dead Rabbit Wisdom
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.”
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