First, I must apologize for eating you. You did not deserve that, but please understand that it had to happen eventually.
You see, I am a predator, and you are prey. It is not that you’re less important than me, or that your way isn’t worthy. It’s just that I’m better.
Don’t worry: you still serve a purpose. I need to be nourished so you are good for that. I am working very hard every day to stay fit, running and stalking, lunging and gnawing on you and your kind. Dominance requires constant practice and fuel.
The pack and I, we look for you because you’re perfect to try our skill at. You are slower and weaker. You stand out in the brush, you stink, and you’re noisy; really, you call to us in every way possible so that we find you. It’s like you’re asking for it, and we’re certainly willing to oblige. There are so many of you and a fiery hunger consumes us.
When we pounce, forgive the initial aggression. We always go for the throat because we like to be quick about it. It’s not so much a courtesy for you, although we like to think that’s part of it. However, it’s actually so no one else is unsettled by your death throes. No need to have you make more of a scene than we like to. You’re just supporting actors in our show.
And don’t fool yourself that escape means victory, either. We are ever-hunters. What we don’t have today, we will have tomorrow. And if I don’t get you, my brethren or my lineage will.
So again, my apologies, Morsel, that you are just prey.