Animals

The ship descended through the cold atmosphere, cutting through the thin clouds that hovered over the frozen tundra. Its engines hummed softly as it made its approach, a small, sleek vessel dropping from the larger mother-ship orbiting high above the planet. The humans aboard had been sent to this barren world with orders: collect data, survey resources, and secure food supplies for the expanding colony.

The planet had shown promise for a settlement, but only if they could tame its northern reaches by removing the local population of bears.

Thorne, a seasoned crew member, stood by the observation window, watching the endless sea of snow and ice below. She had lived most of her life on spaceships and colonies, but there was something different about this place. It was quiet—unnaturally so. Even the wind felt like it was holding its breath.

‘We’re close.’ Miro said, his voice breaking the silence.

Thorne nodded and turned to face him. ‘Where did you see them?’

‘North, by the lake, near the outcropping of rocks,’ Miro replied, pointing out the window. ‘They’ve been moving slowly, searching for food, before I guess they hibernate.’

Thorne’s jaw tightened. They didn’t have much time. ‘We need to make this quick,’ she muttered. ‘The colony’s counting on us.’

The crew disembarked and began their march across the snow, each of them carrying rifles and gear designed for both hunting and scientific study. The land stretched out before them—endless, white, and cold.  Hours later, they reached their destination: a wide, frozen plain dotted with rocky outcrops.

The sight before them was surreal. Large, polar bear-like creatures moved across the snow, their thick white fur, blending almost perfectly with the landscape. They were massive—twice the size of any terrestrial bear, with powerful limbs and sharp, intelligent eyes. The creatures foraged in silence, unaware of the humans' approach.

‘Ready?’ Thorne whispered, crouching low behind a snowdrift. The team was already in position, rifles raised, eyes fixed on their targets.

Miro looked at her, nodding. ‘We don’t need all of them, just enough for the supply ships.’

The humans began their assault.

A barrage of shots rang out.  One of the larger males—crumpled to the ground with a guttural cry, its body jerking as the bullet tore through its chest.  Others followed, whilst the rest of the pack scattered in panic, but the humans were swift, tracking their movements and firing with deadly precision.

The snow turned red.

Thorne’s heart was steady as she took aim again. She had hunted before. The mission was simple: secure food for the colony. But as the bears fell, a strange feeling crept up on her.

A nagging sensation that something wasn’t quite right.  And then, they appeared.

From the woods on the horizon, a group of creatures—more than a dozen—moved toward them. Tall and hulking, their eyes glowing with an unnatural light, they closed in around the humans, silently encircling the hunters.

Thorne’s rifle slipped from her hands.

‘Get ready!’ she barked, but her voice faltered. She realised, too late, that they had been surrounded. The creatures didn’t advance with aggression—they stood still, waiting, watching, unafraid.

The largest of them, an ancient-looking beast with fur like silver moonlight, took a step forward. Its massive head turned toward Thorne, and for a moment, their eyes locked.

She felt it then. A sudden, overwhelming pressure in her mind. Her vision blurred. The weight of its gaze felt like a thousand years pressing down on her.

You have taken what was not yours. You have taken our children, our partners, our friends!

Thorne stumbled back, heart racing. ‘What—what is this?’

The voice wasn’t audible, not in the way words are spoken. It was... inside her, filling her thoughts. It was not just language—it was emotion, memory, sensation.

We are not beasts, as you believe. 

The voice reverberated through her skull, so powerful it left her breathless.

We are part of this world, as you are part of your own. We were here before you. We have watched your kind come and go.

Thorne’s mouth went dry. She reached for her rifle, but it felt useless in her hands. ‘What do you want?’

You took what you did not need. And now you will learn.

The creature stepped closer. It wasn’t threatening—not physically. But something in its eyes made Thorne feel smaller, insignificant. Then, without warning, the creature’s mind reached out, pulling her into a vision.

Thorne was no longer standing in the snow. She was—somewhere else. The landscape around her was alien, but beautiful. Towering trees, their trunks glowing with an ethereal light. Rivers flowed, not with water, but with an energy she couldn’t understand. And in the distance, the creatures—these guardians—moved peacefully, their forms blending into the environment, as if they were one with the land.

Then, the vision shifted.

The sky grew dark. A ship, not unlike the one she had come in, descended into the forest. It was a human ship—long and sleek, like the one she had traveled in. But the vision was different. The people in the ship were not explorers. They were destroyers. They tore at the land, cutting down the trees, poisoning the rivers.

And the creatures—her creatures—fought. They fought to protect the land, to save their homes. But it was too late.

Thorne saw it then—the devastation. The forest burned. The rivers died. The creatures were driven to the edges of the world, pushed to extinction.

Thorne gasped, the vision fading as quickly as it had come. She was back in the snow, kneeling in the cold, gasping for air.

You have taken what you did not need…

The voice repeated, now softer, but no less forceful.

We have been here long before your kind. This is our world. You are not welcome here... unless you learn.

Thorne’s mind raced. She looked around at the other humans, but they were all frozen, their faces pale, their weapons lowered in defeat. No one spoke. No one moved. The weight of the creatures’ presence hung over them like a storm cloud.

‘Learn?’ Thorne whispered, the words tasting strange on her tongue. ‘What do you want us to learn?’

The great creature before her seemed to understand her confusion. It lowered its massive head, as though studying her.

You must understand what you have taken. The balance you have disrupted. You must leave this place. Never return.

Thorne felt a cold sweat running down her back. The creature’s words were not a threat, but a warning.

And then, the creature’s mind opened fully.

The vision came again, but this time it was not a past to be relived. This was a future. Thorne saw herself—not as she was, but as a part of something much greater. The humans, the creatures, the planet—it was all connected. She saw the seasons turn, the life cycles of the land, the animals living in harmony with the energies of the planet.

But this time, the humans were not invaders. They were stewards, the caretakers of the land, living in balance with it. They were not conquerors. They were part of the planet’s vast, intricate web of life.

The creatures were not enemies. They were teachers.

You must choose, the creature’s voice whispered. Leave this world or change. The planet will not wait for you to understand. It will rise up to protect itself.

Thorne blinked, the vision receding, leaving her in the biting cold. She stood slowly, her mind a whirl of images and emotions she couldn’t fully process. Around her, the team was still silent, their faces pale, eyes wide.

‘What now?’ Miro asked, his voice trembling.

Thorne looked up at the creatures—at the guardian before her—and swallowed hard.

‘We leave,’ she said quietly.

The creature nodded, its massive form stepping back, allowing them space.

As the humans slowly turned toward their ship, the creatures watched, their eyes never leaving them.  The ship rose into the sky, but as it did, Thorne looked out the window.

The land below was alive—not just with creatures, but with purpose. It was not a planet waiting to be claimed. It was a living, entity, connected in ways humans could not understand.

They could never return the same way again.

The End

© Adam R. Grose, 2025.