The sound of that thing chipping wood and cutting branches—easily as cutting a worm in half. Watching the leaves fall from violent shakes, seeing them tremble, the branches getting sliced—it all makes my wings and feet uneasy.

The stare of that creature on me—while mutilating a tree—is like looking at a storm. My pleas aren't heard. I have to fly away from home.

Sometimes I feel protected by those funny-looking creatures. They are everywhere. I've been saved by some of them, and almost killed by others. Not sure what they're up to. One day they throw all sorts of things into my world—things that almost trapped me—and another day they clean it up.

Fellow travelers who have been on the surface say that the beach is the worst place for any of us. All of us are slow there and the creatures make terrible noises when we head home. Those, I've been told, are the "good ones." The bad ones steal our eggs and eat us. Is it even worse than being eaten by a shark? I don't think so, but then again, I haven't been to the surface.

Momma tells me stories about when she was in the jungle as a child. A group of humans took her and left Grandma wounded on the ground. Mother was in a cage for a long time. She remembers being put among other beings from the jungle in a place she described as suffocating. The cries of parrots and monkeys looking like skeletons let her realize there was no escape. Fortunately, a group of other humans saved her and all the others.

I can't imagine a life where you aren't in a tree or being held by a human friend.

Carrying this leaf feels better than the last ones. The queen is waiting for me. Hopefully no giant creature will try to destroy the kingdom. Especially the ferocious ones that eliminate us for pleasure.

I've been known as a ghost in the jungle. Many fear me from only seeing my steps in mud or by hearing me from a distance.

Monkeys always scream when I am near, and caimans never see me coming, but I am not as vicious as the creatures that take down trees, poison the ground, the water and the air.

I have seen how they dig the ground to create caves and I have seen them strip the life out of trees, controlling lifeless beasts. Not to mention their capacity to make the air heavy to breathe and to turn the rivers into puddles or into a colourful poison.

At night, I silently watch those creatures around fire—the same fire they use to burn entire landscapes.

It's curious that they become so outraged when they see me or any of us who are from the jungle.

I have also noticed how some of those creatures who have always lived in this land, change their ways in favour of those that display a ferocity and cruelty I cannot match.

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