Snare (incomplete)

Nature; a harsh mistress.  Plant life dominates the face of Earth more than humans by far.  They can withstand more cold, more heat, more drought, even more pollution than we can.  Where humans fear to tread, there you find plants living in ease.  We cut and we burn and we uproot, trying to carve out a small portion for ourselves, yet for all our machinations, as soon as we leave nature reclaims what one belonged to it, at a clip more rapid than we would ever believe manageable.

Harsh, but fair.  Unlike humans, nature does not attack without reason, and in fact rarely attacks at all.  It defends that which it has, cedes defeat if pressured, and slowly inches forwards if uncontested and left to itself; a humble and reasonable path for any living thing.  Human discomfort at the hands of nature is largely of their own design, their own short-sighted folly, as they run headlong into thorn bushes and foolishly consume poisons.  Plants are mindless, reactionary; they strive for no pleasures or power or revenge, and cannot comprehend any of them.  The goal of humans is to live; the goal of plants is simply to survive.

But give a plant a brain…

Give a plant a soul…

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