We live our lives by the Tukana. It is an ancient text, which lays out the
ways of the Tukan. It provides us with the guidance we need to make the best
decisions, and be happy. Some go against the Tukana, but we fight them, and
we always win. We will always win. For the Tukana is everything. The Tukana
is all. I am known as the Dominant, which means that I am in charge of this
entire tropicas. I did not simply fall into my position, and I was not
selected. I had to fight my way to the top. Literally. The main social
activity, according to the Tukana, is fencing. The practice is even more
ancient than the prooftext. Our ancestors once used it to determine who
amongst them was the bravest and noblest. They did not become rulers,
though. That is something the Tukana demands of us. I am obviously the best.
Many have attempted to thwart me, but I put them down every time.
Unfortunately, our laws dictate that fighting for dominance is not the same
as sparring. The better must kill the lesser in order to become the winner
of the challenge. Until then, nothing is settled, and it would throw our
world into chaos if I let them live. This has threatened our population
before, and I can’t let it happen again, so I outright reject any challenge
that comes my way when there is no hope that I’ll lose. It would not be fair
to the challenger, and it only places us in greater danger to our enemies,
the Buseros. They follow a similar path to enlightenment, but it is
corrupted. Their inferior prooftext, the Buseron was plagiarized from our
own; the one true book of salvation. The writer paraphrased nearly every
sentence in his work, and passed it off as original so he could make money.
The Tukana is not about making money. The Tukana teaches us to embrace the
fruits of our destinies.
We are fruitarians. That is our number one rule, and as far as I know, no
Tukan has ever broken it. We are aware that our ancestors once killed for
their food, as the Buseros still do. That is perhaps our main difference. We
do not destroy what we eat, but spread it around, and make more of it. We
pollinate what’s left of our beautiful and precious Earth, and we do not
take anything for granted. I may need to break our rule, though. I have been
held captive by the Buseros for the last two weeks, and I’m starving. They
have deliberately locked me up with a garden of plants, and small furry
creatures. They want me to fall apart, and become more like them. It would
be the greatest victory they’ve ever seen...dare I say the only victory.
I’ve tried to hold on this whole time, but the pain inside me grows by the
minute. The guards have left me alone for the next half hour, or so, as they
do every day. They will notice if I eat one of these plants, or of course,
an animal. We’ve become friends, I certainly don’t want to harm the latter.
The former deserve to live out their lives as well, even though they do not
have faces. The insects. They can’t possibly know how many insects are in
here with me. They crawl and hop in and out at will. They’re still alive, so
I don’t want to kill them, but I suppose if it’s me or them, it has to be
me. I look around to make sure I’m not being watched, and then I snatch one
off of the ground. It doesn’t taste good, and it’s not much, but I keep
doing it, and I eventually start feeling energized again. I can’t eat much
before the guards return, but I keep doing it every day. The Buseros are so
impressed after I show them I’ve survived for four whole months, and they
have no choice but to let me go. I return home to tell my people of the
tasty insect, and its many rewards.
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