Ah, the great outdoors!
Full of boundless beauty, the forests of Arcadia are a canvas that stretches out into the horizon, begging to be captured by the lens of my camera.
It’s a world in which every living creature has a place, a purpose, and a story.
Golly, I just love it.
But hunters make me so gosh darn mad!
Like a dark storm, they intrude upon the forest, wielding their weapons with pride, like they’re some kind of epic hero.
But the truth is, they’re no heroes. They’re nothing more than misguided souls who’ve been led astray by a twisted sense of dominance and supremacy.
They see life as a prize to be won rather than a gift to be cherished. They care not for the balance of life, but only for the trophies he can hang on his wall.
I’ve heard of this Luther Grim fellow.
He’s a big-game hunter who roams the wilderness, seeking as many of trophies as he can get.
All the tales whisper of his shadows descending upon a calm forest with sadistic glee in his eyes.
Pride, he’d call it.
Sickness, I’d call it.
His bloodlust has so consumed him that he believes that he no longer values the power of the weapon he holds in his hand.
If it can take life, it sure as heck can save it.
But he’d rather have a new trophy on his wall.
And now, Grim has stalked his way into Olympus, no longer content with the prey of the forest. Now he seeks the heads of titans.
He’s moved from one forest to another, but he’ll soon find out that they share something in common.
Me.
Luther, you and I aren’t that different if you think about it.
We both love being in nature, our weapons at our sides, looking for the best prizes to capture.
But while our paths may cross within the same forest, the difference between us is not just in our weapons of choice, but in our very essence.
You see, Luther, those you hunt and kill are mere tokens of your conquests, and your victories are stained with the blood of the innocent.
You may think that your spear makes you invincible, but it is a crutch, a shield that protects you from facing the true depths of your actions.
My camera, on the other hand, is a tool of understanding and compassion. It allows me to see the world in a way that you can never comprehend.
Your spear takes life, ending it right on the bloody spot. It’s only remaining value is in your simple mind.
My camera does not take life; it immortalizes it, preserving the stories and memories of the creatures we share Arcadia with.
And yes, maybe your spear can overpower my camera, but that’s not the point.
It’s not the strength of our weapons that determines our fate, but the strength of our hearts.
It’s why your trophies will rot into the dust, and mine will live forever.
And that’s why I always take a picture.
It’ll outlast me.
And it’ll sure outlast you!