“I-I left it too late,” said Susan, in an embarrassed voice. “I was so afraid it might be, you know-one of our kind of bears, a talking bear.” She hated killing things.
“That’s the trouble of it,” said Trumpkin, “when most of the beasts have gone enemy and gone dumb, but there are still some of the other kind left. You never know, and you daren’t wait to see.”
“Poor old Bruin,” said Susan. “You don’t think he was?”
“Not he,” said the Dwarf. “I saw the face and I heard the snarl. He only wanted Little Girl for his breakfast.”…
Lucy shuddered and nodded. When they had sat down she said: “Such a horrible idea has come into my head, Su.”
“Wouldn’t it be dreadful if some day in our own world, at home, men started growing wild inside, like the animals here, and still looked like men, so that you’d never know which were which?”
“We’ve got enough to bother about hear and now in Narnia,” said the practical Susan, “without imagining things like that.”
Airline workers willing to abuse passengers. Nobody on the plane willing to give up their own seat so this atrocity would stop. A man live streaming a murder. A president who thinks it’s ok to treat women like pieces of meat. Hundreds of kids, girls and boys, being kidnapped every day and sold into slavery.
And that’s not even mentioning the times the wild animal in myself rears up. When I yell at my kid. When I am short with my wife. When I am nothing but selfish and have no bothers for anyone else.
Unfortunately, I’m afraid we don’t have to imagine such things.