Once, in the ages past, there were two brothers. One was small, sleek, fast on his feet. The other was strong, bulky and large. The small, sleek one would dodge nimbly though the fields of ferns, while the other would dominate and trample the world. In those early days, one could mistake these giants as the true rulers of the world.

Funny isn’t it though, that they fell?

See, those massive creatures, they were before the dinosaurs. Beasts of skin and fur, not quite what you mammals are, but your progenitors. You were always quick to take places after disasters, and get to big sizes. Ugly things to boot, full of bumps and saber teeth. The lithe, little one thought?

That one was the ancestor of the dinosaurs.

See, when it came time for the next wave of extinction, the big early ones struggled. Most of them couldn’t take the heat of a new world, and it was the lithe hunter that overwhelmed, and took hold. That grew bigger than any other kind of animal to exist on land to this day. It took the divine intervention of the stars to end the dinosaurs that ruled the world.

It was only then the scurrying tiny mammals got back out from underfoot of something larger.

You’ve been under the boot of someone this whole time though, haven’t you Aranza? Despite your ferocity, the tactics, everything that you’ve done, it’s not enough. You try your best to be ferocious, be a predator on the top of the food chain.

But when it comes to needles in necks, it didn’t break on your neck now did it?

No matter what you do, that human you’ve got following you around keeps you down. Your instincts to hide and stalk are base, something that comes from the base of what you are. Because despite the fangs on your mask, at the end of the day you’re still just human.

Still something small, meant to scurry the way out of stronger and more dangerous foes. All you can do is try to play at what you aren’t, follow instincts that deep down you know aren’t even really ones you’re meant to follow.

For the goal of hunting and killing is the role of the dinosaur, not the lowly mammal. In my bones, the urge to kill calls out. The need to tear meat between my teeth, to feast on the ones in my way and dominate this world overwhelm me. The need to hunt is ingrained deep in my soul, and hearkens for the death of all that I choose.

That includes you.

So bring your claws little cat. See if your fangs can outmatch mine. I look forward to something actually trying to give me a challenge. It’s always fun to see the weaker ones fight it out, trying so hard to make their time before being crushed beneath forces stronger than them.

I relish the chance for new scars and a good, succulent meal.