You slip your large, sharp jaws over the helpless little baby bird. Your teeth easily slice through the frail being. It has little time to process what you are doing as you close your mouth and chew with a complete lack of interest in your fellow creature of the forest. The baby bird’s bones and feathers and bits and pieces easily slide down into your belly, the place where you should feel all the guilt one might carry for murdering a helpless creature.

You do not have to worry about that, however. You are incapable of feeling guilt.

That must be nice. Consider how nice it must be as the baby bird digests in your terrible, terrible stomach.

You choose to…

• …let the baby bird die.