Humanity has sanded down the edges of so many things to make them more suitable for ourselves. We built skyscrapers on the bones of forests and bred out the incisors of everything inside.
But underneath the stones we didn't dare to turn, there is still something beastly. Something uncomfortable, and much too wild for us. Shifting inky shapes that scuttle and slither through the mud unfettered by our concrete jungles and softened fangs.
We have abandoned our ferocity and starved our many ugly hungers, but the earth remembers. The soil still knows its shape. And so every now and again, a centipede will creep up your drain, or a spider may spin its web in the lonely corners of your home, and they're still every bit as wild as they were.
But perhaps even rarer than those small and savage lives that cross your path, you'll find yourself wishing the wilds would welcome you home. And should you go asking it, it will answer no crueler than us, who have never once done the same.