It usually starts every year around equinox the old ones say. Most of the snow is gone except in the deep woods where the sun doesn't reach. A sudden scream rings out and reverberates throughout the quiet woods, shocking all. "It's started!!!" This chilling and urgent message goes out like electricity through the network that connects the tribe. The bloodletting had begun. Anger, terror and above all hatred of those who perpetuate this heinous crime against their bodies. More screaming. The annual debate begins again: why us? why are we so helpless? Some are resigned to their fate. "At least the children are spared." Others are enraged. "They take just enough so they don't kill us. But it weakens us, lowers our defenses against the damage of insects, birds and mammals. If they are idiots and they choose an elder, take too much and the elder succumbs." A breeze picks up and carries the cries though out woods and to the fields. High above, a low moan develops and clacking as they reach out to one another for comfort. Crows and jays cry out-everyone in the woods is upset. "Why do they do this? They give nothing in return. Who are these barbarians?"
I started out thinking, "Hunting? In the spring?" I hope trees don't suffer as I know animals do.
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