The Warrior Sloth does not make threats.
Theirs is a war of attrition.
They simply exist with the relentless knowledge that those they pursue will know of their enduring chase long before their arrival.
It is not the strength and power of the lion.
Or the glit and glamour of the cheetah.
A horse can gallop under the obedience of its master until their lungs burst in pulmonary hemorrhage.
The sloth does not run.
They do not have the armor of a rhino or the memory of an elephant.
They cannot curl into a ball like an armadillo or withdraw into themselves like a turtle.
They are exposed to the elements and exist in a world full of those who wish them harm.
But they thrive in the wisdom and understanding that if what they are pursuing is constantly looking over your shoulder, wondering where they are…
they are looking in the wrong direction.
Attack it head on.
What some label as lazy, others acknowledge as a dogged pursuit.
The critics just can’t see what you’re after yet.
It isn’t for them.
It’s not in spite of them.
They get to see for free what they can’t create themselves.
Life takes all kinds.
Don’t pretend to be something that you’re not, in hopes that others eventually see you for what you are.