[ WP ] `` They call us monsters , son . ''

He had known this day was coming, but that didn ’ t change the fact that his son ’ s simple question had left him at a loss for words. The truth was, it had been hotly debated at each tribal council for the last 200 years. 
 
 *Why do we hide from them, ha! Sure it was just that simple, we just happen to duck behind a bush every-time the humans look our way. Never mind the ever more sophisticated technology being deployed in an attempt to catch us every year. Tribal politics aside however, his son deserved an honest, practical answer. * 
 
 Morfblaht looked down into the face that was so much like his own at that age, just becoming a squatch, about to begin soaking up all the wisdom that would come when he successfully completed his spirit walk. The timing was perfect, his son Clahkdorsh was now eight feet tall and had finally started to shed the spotted coat of a squatchling. 
 
 Clahkdorsh was absentmindedly playing with a stalk of hay, twirling it between his oversized fingers as he stared at the living thatched dome roof, woven so perfectly by his mother ’ s practiced hands. Morfblaht inhaled deeply, savoring the sweet smells of the night, bushes, flowers, and the damp earth turned up by the evening's foragers. 
 
 “ They call us monsters, son. ” Morfblaht began “ We have remained hidden for millennia, not because we do not wish to share ourselves with them, but because they are not yet ready for us. I believe one day we can live in harmony, openly, but it won ’ t be in my lifetime. They ’ re still much too dependent on the notion that they are somehow special, the pinnacle of evolution. They have a long way to go. Until that day comes we ’ ll continue to evade them and allow them to call us what they will, Yeti, Sasquatch, Bigfoot, apes, animals… monsters. ” 

