I have no pity to spare for thee...

Someday your hands will be old and wrinkled, the skin spotted and bunching over your knuckles. And a child will watch you make something. It's a simple task, you'll have done it a thousand times before. But to that child, the smooth, confident way your hands move will seem like impossible magic. You have to keep living.

One of the guys I worked with told us a story about how, when they were doing archaeology surveys in the woods they ran into a bigfoot hunter. Bigfoot guy asked if they had seen signs of bigfoot, and he was like "Sorry, nothing like that. We're archaeologists, so we're looking for human stuff." and the bigfoot guy was like "Oh! I saw some Native American cairns on my way out here. I can give you a general location." and when he was like "Yeah dude, that'd be sick. We're actually looking to document those." the bigfoot guy was like "Yeah, they looked pretty cool. I didn't touch them though, because Native Americans built them, not bigfoot."

I apologize in advance for the "haha I misread this and thought..." but in all seriousness for two readthroughs I legit thought this was a story about an archeology survey team in the woods who ran into bigfoot and had a nice chat with him about his day and didn't bother to take pictures or document anything because they're only interested in human stuff, not in cryptids, but bigfoot was also nice enough to direct them to some native american cairns, which he did not build.

You captured all my thoughts so perfectly