Man v Beast

The ridges surrounding the open mouth of the cave dripped with last night’s rainfall. The smoky embers of yesterday’s fire thickened the air. The soft whimpers of my Daughter complimented the drip of the water, muffled only by the gentle hand of my Wife. I stood about midway between my Family and the beast, a distance of mere yards between the creature and my Family.

The rank breath of the beast sent a fever of disgust through my spine. The yellow eyes, unblinking, staring – staring – ever so coldly into the depths of my soul tore at my nerves like a blade. and yet, if I showed any inkling of fear, the creature would tear through my organs with a fiery passion and my final moments of agony and fear would be capitalized by the sight of my Family being torn to pieces.

The long staff in my hand formed the only barrier between this Thing and unimaginable pain. Its sharpened end, honed skillfully by my Wife, my dear Wife, pointed at the beast’s snout. I meticulously shifted the spear in my hands, sidestepping with intense care, staring into those yellow eyes.

Like swordsmen, Man and Beast sidestepped each other, eyeing each other’s motions, looking for one slip-up, one opening, each understanding the direness of the situation at hand. I told myself I had the advantage – defense of loved ones is a more potent emotion than pure hunger… right?

Is a Beast capable of feeling the intense desire to protect ones family? Is a Beast, in times of extreme hunger, able to access a survival instinct, a passion, deeper than that of the most virulent man? Is Man, in all of his enlightened awareness, disadvantaged when faced with a creature who has never contemplated its own death?

The fear of death, and particularly painful, violent death, has passed through the hearts of every man. Action in the face of these fears that makes men brave. Bravery is the acceptance of fear’s emotional power but rejection of its ability to control your actions. In essence, it is your Human brain winning a battle against itself. For only the human brain has the power to contemplate or predict the pain of death, but only the human brain has the power to direct your actions regardless of such fear.

Beasts, on the contrary, are not brave. Bravery is not the same as ignorance. Beasts have no notion that they will die, or ever cease to exist. They are merely agents of survival, perpetually absorbed in the miasma of the present, where past and potential future means nothing. The Beast in front of me, staring the pointed tip of my spear in the face, is not brave, because it has no ability to contemplate the pain of being stabbed.

Beasts, then, who act purely on their survival instincts, cannot be cruel either. The Beast in front of me does not see two defenseless and innocent creatures behind me, shuddering at the fear of a horrifying death at the hands of its claws. It sees food. Men, on the other hand, can use their human gifts for evil, and inflict all of the horrid and gruesome pain that only someone to fears the same thing happening to them could imagine.

The question, then, becomes thus: is the fear of death a more potent force than mechanical survival intuitions? For example, the spear in my hand: I would have never thought to craft this spear were it not for the fear of what would happen if I didn’t. in the moment of creation, this spear served no purpose. It was the express fear of future pain and death that led past Me to craft this weapon. Had I not had that fear, I would be defenseless against this animalistic creature in front of me.

Is that the answer? Even if this creature and I were on even standing with regard to physicality, the beast, who operates without an inkling of fear, would likely emerge victorious. However, my human fear of death, and my action upon acknowledgement of that fear that led to the creation of this spear, might give me the advantage.

And the Beast pounced.