Animals

The deer is already wounded.

It's hard to tell what caused it exactly. Blood and fur have curdled together on its front left leg. It could have been from a trap by one of the scavengers, maybe it was from a wolf bite. Maybe it had suffered a mishap. Goodness knows she's had her share of them that statistically speaking, she should be dead, she reflects. Even before the knowledge that animals and the natural world aren't the only things that are trying to kill her.

Or worse….

She shakes it off. She can't afford to look back now. Hunt, or be hunted. It's been the natural order of the world for millions of years, the natural order of humankind for hundreds of thousands of years, and has been the twisted order of this island for the last few days. So by all rights, she should get this over with. Kill the deer, settle down for the night, get some substance, and then continue searching for Roth.

So get it over with!

She tightens the bow. The deer looks up at her. Is its hearing that good, she wonders? Or does she need to work on her technique? She managed to pull it off the first time. So why now?

Forget the 'why now.' Why are you still waiting?!

She keeps the bow drawn.

It'll run off!

Fat chance of that, she reflects. The creature can barely move. It's as if it knows it's going to die and just wants its predator to get it over with.

She sighs. She doesn't know why this is a problem. It's cruel, but necessary. She's not hunting for sport, she's hunting to survive. Yes, it's unfortunate that this deer doesn't stand a chance of survival, but the world's cruel. Or at least, this island certainly is. Or at least, the people inhabiting it. Shipwrecked here for God knows how long. It's as if the civilized world decided to spit them out and put them in a place where the harm they could do is minimized.

Saw fit to put us with them though.

The deer keeps looking at her. Enough moralizing, she tells herself. Enough philosophy. Just get it done.

…well?!

The bow is lowered. The deer tilts its head.

Maybe…maybe she doesn't need to, she reflects. After all, she'd need to drag its carcass back. She'd need to light a fire. She'd run the risk of alerting the scavengers. People who have shown that they're willing to kill at the slightest provocation. Not for sport. Not even for food. Unless…unless they practice cannibalism. It's a ridiculous thought, but right now, she doesn't know what to think.

Yeah, that's great. Now, are you gonna kill the critter yet?

The voice keeps talking. It's been doing that for awhile now. Some inner voice. Some primal voice. The voice that kept humans alive for thousands of years. Back when they were as much slaves to the ways of the world as every other animal. Back when concepts of good and evil probably didn't even exist.

Oh spare me.

She lowers the bow. She walks over to the deer. It keeps staring at her. Her hand drifts for her weapons again. But it doesn't reach them. Instead, it touches the creature's forehead.

"Go on," she murmurs. "Get out of here."

The creature tilts its head again. But seconds later, it obliges. It stumbles, it moves slowly, but it still gets out of her range of vision.

Well, there goes dinner. And besides, chances are another predator will get it eventually.

That's true, she reflects. A wolf might attack it because it's what they do. One of those…monsters might attack because hungry or not, they've shown that killing is just what they do.

But she isn't like them, she tells herself She reaches for the pendant around her neck to remind herself of this.

She's still a human being. Not a mindless animal.

She can still choose.

And moving through the island forest, determined to find others who have yet to lose their humanity, it's a thought that gives Lara Croft comfort.