You can’t read their faces. Or eyes. They are fast and deadly, that much I knew. They are agile. And agressive. Or tender. Even, sort of, caring sometimes. You never know. When they are angry they kill, and the horror of taking a life seems to be unknown to them. They think everything they don’t know or understand is a threat.
It was that life-turning point when I though, NO. I don’t want to live a life of reflex action. There’s always at least a split second to reflect, not reflex. I may not understand them, but this is my fault, not theirs. There’s a place for all species. That much I knew.
We don’t have to fight other species simply because we are afraid of the unknown.
I won’t RUN from the boy. And I won’t RAM him.
P.S. Later that day, Pete was telling his friends that the Mooo he heard was somehow… peaceful, and that was why he hadn’t run.
That post was written in response to the weekly writing challenge on the Daily Post.