Andean Fox |
I slip through the dry brush to get a closer look. They're facing away from me, looking out over the nearby lake. They raise some curious looking black things to their eyes. I move closer.
There are ruins nearby, from some long-lost civilization who my ancestors must have watched as I watch these creatures today. Ruins that these present-day creatures now observe intently. What could these creatures be looking at with no apparent intent to hunt? A small bird flies up from the ruins and away towards the lake, and yet, these creatures make no move toward it. They simply observe.
I move closer, making sure they can't see me, and give them a good once over.
They carry no weapons I know of. They don't appear to be out to harm anything. Simply to observe.
The day is moving on, the sun rising higher in the sky. I must be off to find food before it becomes to warm. Sensing that these creatures pose no threat, I run across the road, up the hill a little ways and stop and turn for one last look. One of the creatures points something at me, but nothing happens save for a clicking sound. I turn and make my way around the hill and out of sight.
These creatures are a regular part of my life. There are many of them, but only a few of us.
I will live day to day and forget, but they will remember me for a long time to come.
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