Cows aren't so bad, Kiyiya whispered in his head, approaching a mother cow with her dying calf. They're not scary. They're just animals. Clueless animals.
Slowly, he inched forward toward the calf. The mother cow was staring at him calmly, unknowingly, trusting him. Her black eyes pierced into his mind, and his heart rate picked up. He was afraid. He felt so small next to her. He was short and thin and meek, and she stood tall and protective over her baby. As he grabbed the calf's hind legs, it let out a pained squeal, reminding Kiyiya of a frightened pig. The mother cow was reactionless as he slowly pulled her baby away from her. Then, calmly, she averted her gaze away from him and began to chew on the grass below her.
"Good work, Kiyiya," said a voice from beyond the fence, causing Kiyiya to jump nearly out of his skin. The man behind him laughed deeply. "You're so skittish. You don't act much like a man your age should."
"I'm sorry, Migisi," Kiyiya muttered, having heard that remark plenty of times since he turned thirteen last year.
"Why are you so afraid of animals?"
"They're senseless," he said, turning to Migisi. "They don't feel for humans, nor do they care about them." He narrowed his eyes at the man standing tall before him with crossed arms. "Don't you think that's intimidating?"
"Certainly not," Migisi assured him. "Animals feel fear of humans. They are to be intimidated by us, not the other way around. Do you understand?"
Unlike many of the older men in the village, Migisi tried to offer his wisdom to Kiyiya. Most of them simply let him be. Kiyiya wish this was the case with Migisi, because he grew tired of hearing the same lecture over and over again. This wasn't the first time he'd been patronized for his fear of larger animals, and he knew it wasn't going to be the last.
Irritably, Kiyiya dragged the calf to Migisi's feet, looked at him briefly, and started jogging back toward the village. He promised to play with Maheegan today.
Slowly, he inched forward toward the calf. The mother cow was staring at him calmly, unknowingly, trusting him. Her black eyes pierced into his mind, and his heart rate picked up. He was afraid. He felt so small next to her. He was short and thin and meek, and she stood tall and protective over her baby. As he grabbed the calf's hind legs, it let out a pained squeal, reminding Kiyiya of a frightened pig. The mother cow was reactionless as he slowly pulled her baby away from her. Then, calmly, she averted her gaze away from him and began to chew on the grass below her.
"Good work, Kiyiya," said a voice from beyond the fence, causing Kiyiya to jump nearly out of his skin. The man behind him laughed deeply. "You're so skittish. You don't act much like a man your age should."
"I'm sorry, Migisi," Kiyiya muttered, having heard that remark plenty of times since he turned thirteen last year.
"Why are you so afraid of animals?"
"They're senseless," he said, turning to Migisi. "They don't feel for humans, nor do they care about them." He narrowed his eyes at the man standing tall before him with crossed arms. "Don't you think that's intimidating?"
"Certainly not," Migisi assured him. "Animals feel fear of humans. They are to be intimidated by us, not the other way around. Do you understand?"
Unlike many of the older men in the village, Migisi tried to offer his wisdom to Kiyiya. Most of them simply let him be. Kiyiya wish this was the case with Migisi, because he grew tired of hearing the same lecture over and over again. This wasn't the first time he'd been patronized for his fear of larger animals, and he knew it wasn't going to be the last.
Irritably, Kiyiya dragged the calf to Migisi's feet, looked at him briefly, and started jogging back toward the village. He promised to play with Maheegan today.