Once upon a time all the North was ours, and we had no ambition but to live, frolicking and playing on its sweet breezes.
And then from the South, the land of heat and strangeness, They came to take our lands out skies, our lives.
We cannot even know what to call them, what They call Themselves.
, with their painful warmth. They, with patterns of thought so bizarre as to make communication impossible, indeed, even Their very presence is physically agonizing to us and inimical to our health.
, our elders finally decided. We must drive them away if we are to survive.
We did not want to kill Them, even then. All we wished was to live in peace.
We made it worse for Them. We choked out Their strange foods and chilled Them to the bone, spread suffering and misery among Their kind, all to send a simple message:
Yet, still They stayed.
And then came the Dolorous Day, when They came together and wielded Their thought as a weapon.
There are so few of us left now, so very, very few.
Was it so wrong for us to want to live? To bear healthy children and dance upon the winds for eternity?
expand further and further, and it is rare that our children live to see their first year.
You amaze us, little one. You are the only one among us who can be called healthy, and you remain so, even after ten years in Their shadow. Indeed, you seem to thrive upon Their presence.
It breaks our hearts to send you away to the cruel South, but you are our only hope.
Go forth into Their lands, and perhaps, one day we will find some way to speak to Them, to understand Them.
And if we must, to destroy Them.
Go forth, little Hope, and we pray that you may save us all.
Obselescence ses: It’s always cool to hear that there are two sides to every story. Told from this perspective, it’s not so certain that the windigos are in the wrong and the ponies are in the right.
Moral ambiguity! Be still, my heart.
I wish the little one well. And you too for writing this. Let’s wish everyone well.