The End

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The End

That was not the last time Fana tried reasoning with her brother. She tried several times after, her pleas growing. It took some time, but now she knew. She knew if Kreo was given the choice, he would always pick his followers and their wants, no matter the cost.

And that was why she was no longer giving him a choice.

She stood near the edge of the woods, hidden by what little was left. They were reaching the tipping point: where Floura and her children would no longer be able to recover from the devastation caused by Kreo and his humans. Humans were thriving, reproducing at an exponential rate. That, of course, meant consuming more and more resources from nature and wildlife. Now, the trees were stunted, unable to reach for the sun. Instead, they reached for the air, desperately producing seeds and attempting to find a new place to start. The grass receded further and further, trying to run from humanity while the animals became children of the night, when humans slept. That was when they were safest, and it was okay to stop hiding. Even so, they were caught, hunted, and slaughtered enough that their populations were diminishing. Fana herself was the only one they trusted while some had given up hope. But she would not.

Just as he was willing to fight for them, Fana would fight for Floura. She had planned this for long enough that succeeding was her only option. She would give a full-on fight and give it her all. If they failed, then they were done. There would be no recovering.

Her brother was unaware of her plot. She'd made sure to keep her distance since he ignored her pleading. He refused to acknowledge her fear for Floura's nature or the desperation that ran through her veins. He did not understand the necessity of what was going to happen. But it was no longer Fana's responsibility. She tried warning him.

She took a deep breath, looking up at the night sky. The stars were hiding, smothered behind a thick blanket of light pollution. Soon, she would be able to see their twinkling once again. Soon.

"Are you ready?" She said softly without looking down, running her hand through Arctic's thick pelage. In return, she received a chirp of acknowledgement. He was ready, just as she was. Just as they were.

Because behind her, they all waited. The birds waited on the branches of trees, blinking every now and then. The mice cleaned their whiskers while the hares thumped their feet. The pack of wolves stared forward silently, heads lowered, and the sleuth of bears grumbled, anxious to begin. There were many more, all tired of hiding, of dying. They were all here, to fight for what was theirs, for their right to roam. And Fana would help them.

Fana finally looked down, where the humans were asleep. They'd finished the night a few hours ago, finding comfort and sleep in their homes. They would be at their weakest, their most vulnerable. They would no longer be the predators they envisioned themselves as. No, Fana and Floura's children would show them what they truly were: prey.

She said one word. "Go." And with that, the end began.

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