They are sheep. Robots which follow the instructions of their programming flawlessly. Without question. Without reflection. Too predictable. Afraid to explore that which is not physical. They know that they will be lost if they step outside of their reality. A tin can with nothing to support it. Crushed without mercy. Never again will they enter it. They desperately claw to get back inside. Away from the overwhelming compassionless reality. They are unaware of the wolves. The dominant entity which resides in this dreadful actuality. Keenfully studying them. Piercing them with their razorlike vision. Amusingly witnessing their vain atempt to exist here. The wolves need not attack. They simply make their presence known. As their eyes connect a wave of terror pulsates through their entire bodies. Their blood replaced by liquid fear. They cower. Terror-stricken. Pale as death. Paralyzed from within. The wolves are completely aware that they are of no significance or threat. Their assumptions now evident, they turn and leave.
