And then...

For the ninth time that day, the doorbell rang, bringing with it the expectations that always accompany a visitor to the asylum. But no one, oh yes none, knew its extent.

Escape

The truth is that the little animals couldn't run fast enough to escape their own minds, however weak they really were in comparison. They sprinted, O yes, they sprinted, and even jumped up trees, then from branch to branch, tree to tree, deftly dodging thought and idea as they tried to plan an escape but couldn't, their thoughts already occupied with attackers. Instead their only escape was through instinct; they were reduced to mere shadows of what they had become, and their abilities were now useless and all they could do was run.

Someone Wasn't Listening

As you can see, the children who have been betrayed are oblivious to the glory which has been produced by this betrayal, and though it is difficult to not pity them, I feel such a great remorse that I believe it to be not true, but artificially created for the sake of promoting their well-being, even in the present circumstance in which I know them not.