Claude swallowed hard, “What?”The creature smiled, it’s black lifeless eyes boring through Claude’s soul, “You heard me. I am a God of sorts. I created them. I can feel them. They hunger. I feel their sadness, their pain. And also I miss the ones you murdered.”Before Claude could say anything the being moved and punched through his helmet like it was made out of Styrofoam. He could feel the rush of air, hear the crunching of plexi-steel. Before he could exclaim in horror the helmet lied in shambles. Electronic guts, glass and its components lying all over the floor. He gazed in awe as the being flexed his wrists.“Don’t disrespect their memory by claiming you were defending yourself. You weren’t.” The creature hissed.“They attacked first.” Claude spoke.“Attacked? How do you feed my dear? Do you ask of your prey to lie down and wait for you to finish eating? I think not. You act. You feed. That’s what we did ... among other things.” The being’s cold smile frightened the seasoned veteran. Dick nodded and said to me, “I still need some help with my bighorns. Any chance that you can come and look over my operations and offer me some suggestions on how we can improve things?”We were all relaxed, and I was happy with the outcomes of this dinner. I believed I had won Dick to my cause. His daughters were keen to take up my ideas, and I had a feeling they will encourage Dick to run with them if he wanted peace at home.“I’d be delighted to, but I may need a few days to get my herd under control. I’ll come as soon as I can. In the meantime, buy more salt. I believe any of the animals that have lowhorn or shorthorn blood and especially if you’re milking them need more salt that we have been proving them.”“Make up some grain mashes; I’ll give you my recipe. Give each sick animal half a bucket a day and plenty of clean, fresh hay and water. It won’t hurt to wash the animals down with the ash soap and check for those pesky little bloodsuckers.”“Make sure that the enclosures and.
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