The Voice of the Wild

Dear Reader: What you are about to read is the result of a little mind game I sometimes play with myself, called 'put yourself in someone else's shoes' or something like that. As humans, we sometimes get a little self centered' intentionally or otherwise, and don't think about the feelings of others, sometimes causing a lot of pain without realising it. This is a natural part of our human nature. I don't mean to accuse anyone in particular, as I'm sure we've all done it from time to time; I know it's happened to me quite a bit. It is my belief, though, that if more of us would look at things from someone else's point of view, there would be more understanding between us, and that understanding could help change the world one day.

It is with this in mind, that I've decided for my Wolf Awareness Week '07 project, I'd do something that would help others to become more aware of how the other side sees things. Maybe I've hit the nail dead on in this creative writing project, or maybe I overlooked something or other, or exaggerated a bit; in any case, this is what I think their thoughts might be like. What's important, I think, is that just maybe I've made someone turn their head, and started those wheels turning; just maybe I've given some person, somewhere in the world, a little more insight into the minds of these awesome creatures, and a clearer view of the kind of perspective they probably have on this world ...

The Voice of the Wild
By Nathan Fluevog

As the sun sets in the distance, dyeing the eastern sky in shades of red and orange, my pack and I cast our voices to the heavens, our cry echoing off the mountains, traveling far across the forests and waters. Somewhere in the distance, more voices answer with calls of their own, and soon the twilight air is filled with scores of cries converging together into one great song. Any other night, we might sing of happiness and thanksgiving for being alive. Tonight, however, our song is not one of praise, joy, or togetherness, but a dire message to be passed on to the edges of the earth; a plea for help, a desperate prayer in search for any way, anyone, anything that could save us from what has become our dreadful fate.

We are hunters by nature, our sustenance is the other animals which graze the earth and gain nourishment from its harvest. We work day after day to provide food for ourselves and our young, and much more often than not, our day's work brings nothing. Forced sometimes to go without food for days, or even weeks, we eat not because we are hungry, but because we don't know when our next meal will be. Every edible scrap is eaten, not a bite wasted, and only when the carcass is bare do we turn our energies to hunting again. We prey on the sick and the weak animals, keeping the herds strong, and their numbers plentiful, and our numbers too in turn. We take only what we need from the earth, and in return, the earth will provide us with everything we need; this is the way it was in the beginning, and should ever be.

This balance, however, has been upset. Those strange two-legged beings have shared the planet with us since the beginning; we will never completely understand their mysterious ways, yet still we were able to live alongside them for a time, in harmony with each other and with the earth. Generations came and went, and over time, they began to abuse the earth's resources, and claim all they saw as their own. They destroyed vast amounts of forest, corrupted the earth's waters with their garbage, and drove us out of our homes. They hunted and killed not just for sustenance and need, but out of greed and selfishness. Many species perished altogether because of their carelessness, and we feared we would be the next to go.

The two-legged beings are terrifyingly powerful; we are stronger and swifter than they, yet not even we can fully defend ourselves against their fearful devices. Among the most feared of their weapons are such things as tainted food left out to poison us, and lethal miasmas which flood our dens and kill mother and children together. Tasty smelling scraps of meat often turn out to be nasty traps that spring up and ensnare your leg in a painful death grip. But the most terrifying is the death machines they use to hunt with and to defend themselves; it is a horrifying thing which can strike out of almost anywhere. By the time you hear the ear-splitting crack that signals its presence, it's already too late for the ill-fated victim. One does not know fear unless one has lived with the constant threat of near-instant death that can come from almost any direction, even from directly above.

For ages we endured their brutal attacks, until at last, the turmoil subsided as the strange beings ceased almost all attacks in most areas; for a time, everything seemed somewhat more peaceful. Songs came to us from some of our kind who were able to live peacefully with the creatures who were once enemies. These packs looked to the two-legged for leadership, and received in return all they needed to survive, and more; these beings could help heal our injuries and ailments faster than we could alone. Perhaps this is the key to living in peace with them? Some packs were released back into land that had been taken from us, and we were able to replenish our numbers a little. It seems these beings are trying to undo the damage they had done. But yet we still lose a few of our number now and then to these strange creatures; the only thing we can make of this is that they are greatly divided, for there are those who kill us and those who heal us. But it's clear we've been given a chance to recover up until now.

As of late, an ominous wind has begun to stir, and our death rates to the two-legged have begun to rise slowly but steadily. We fear the peaceful times may be coming to an end, and this time, we may not be so lucky as to survive. Those of us that remain continue to raise our voices and call to each other, searching for an answer to our dire predicament, but we can come up with nothing to prevent our annihilation should the slaughter start again. Every waking hour, we search for a solution, but there seems to be no sure-fire way to survive the looming apocalypse. All we can do is put our faith and hope into the two-legged and wait. If they are divided as they seem, then we can do nothing more than to continue to call out and hope that they will hear our plea, and perhaps change their minds.

These beings hold the power to destroy us all, but also to save us from destruction; this is a great risk to take, but it is our only chance. If this fails, we and our song will vanish from the planet; be this what they desire, or not. This is our plea to them and to god: Our fate rests with you now; our only wish is to live in peace with you, so we may live on for generations to come. Let us live alongside each other peacefully once again. In return, let this song be our gift to you. To accept it or not is yours to choose, but please, if you will save us, act now, for if nothing is done fast, our song, Nature's song, will be lost – Forever.

This document and it's contents are © Nathan P. Fluevog, AKA 'Commander UltraMetaloid'. I put a lot of thought and work into this, so please don't steal it and claim it as your own. Feel free to pass it around or do whatever you wish with it, all I ask is that everything I've written above remains unchanged and preferably in one piece (including the Dear Reader, too). I'd love for this to circle the internet, the more people who read it the better, but whatever you do, please at least give me a little credit where credit is due, OK? Nothing bad will happen if you don't, but it sure would be greatly appreciated. Thanks A million!