特洛伊开篇词英文版

A mangy, bone-thin DOG lopes across the broad valley
floor, sniffing at the ground. At first the scene
appears bucolic: tall grass, patches of wildflowers, blue
sky above.

But as the dog keeps running we see signs of conflict. A
spear, half imbedded in the earth, rises at an angle. A
bronze helmet, cracked and bloodied, lies on its side.
The dog pauses to sniff the helmet then continues his
search. Finally he stops, hackles on his back rising,
ears pricked up. He growls, and we see what the dog sees.
Dozens of CROWS have descended into a shallow ravine.
They squabble and peck, clustered around something on the
ground.

The dog growls louder and charges at the crows. The black
birds flap away to safety, shrieking in protest.
A DEAD SOLDIER lies facedown in the ravine. Whatever
armor he wore was stripped away, leaving his body to the
elements.

The dog walks slowly to the dead man