" So when they bent their elegant necks to nibble the grass, some of us shouted taunts. Sprinted toward them, flailing. Some of us enjoyed seeing them panic. They’d bolt in a high-kicking flight toward the trees, frightened by our power. Some of us cheered as the deer fled. Not me. I kept silent. I was sorry for them. The ticks weren’t their fault. To a deer, people were probably monsters. Certain people, anyway. At times, when a deer saw a man walking in the forest, he might prick up his ears and stand still as a statue. Waiting. Wary. Meaning no harm. What are you? asked his ears. And oh. What am I? Sometimes the answer was, You’re dead. And the deer crumpled to his knees. "

― Lydia Millet , A Children's Bible