Your fire is bright, child of apes, and so here I sit, in the dark, in the trees. I let my eyes flash, so! But I do not appear. You may waste your bullets on my shadow if you wish.
Yes, I know of bullets, and all your monkey tricks.
Perhaps I am not always as I am now. Perhaps I have other shapes, when it suits me. Perhaps you dined with me yesterday, shared a pint, all unaware.
I know secrets common dogs do not. I know fire. I know lies.
I know patience.
Your fire burns low, ape.
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