“Such tragedy…” Etta sighed. She recalled the historical volumes about the heroic tries of saving Indians from the Amazonian jungles or the inhabitants of Papua New Guinea, the crews combing dying Africa in search of the babies who thrived, so alike famine-stricken monkeys… “Not many survived,” she whispered. “Just the youngest. The adults, even collected in time were unable to adapt to the city reality, they died of longing for their habitats, for nature and space. They couldn’t live in post-apocalyptic regime.”
“But they had tried, at least. Can you remember the post-apo visions of the writers? The animal level societies of beasts hovering in ruins or underground, people against people? And the reality turned out to be brighter.”
“A little brighter, but it doesn’t mean that everyone tu
