Yas

He stood in the forest, eyes closed. The injured trees, the still air shouted to him his new cause. He slowly knelt, and remembered his life. Birth, parents, learning to lie, growing up, moments of anger, punishments, accomplishments. Taming. Much of his life was spent being tamed, the rest living a shameful life of comprimise, office politics, meaningless conversation, worthless consumption, and white lies. 16 years of taming, 10 years of life in a cubicle. He would change his life. He felt tears run down his face... A loss of complexity, a tearing down of a long-built identity. He might miss it. An exchange for another good. Innocence. New eyes see the past as full of mistakes. Old reservations disappear when their prohibitions are seen as being rationalized away in some other form. He stripped off his shoes, felt the joy that nature would give him through that special connection of earth to bare feet, and placed his hands .. front feet on the ground as well. His pure mind would at last grant the forest a loyal defender. A joyous howl rang out from the trees.