Perhaps you find Scamps comic, and Vermai brutish.
How then do you imagine we view you humans?
You are the Prey, and we are the Huntsmen.
The Scamps are the Hounds, and the Vermai the Beaters.
Your flesh is sweet, and the chase is diverting.
As you may sometimes praise the fox or hare, admiring its cunning and speed, and lamenting as the hounds tear its flesh, so do we sometimes admire our prey, and secretly applaud when it cheats our snares or eludes pursuit.
But, like all worldly things, you will in time wear, and be used up. You age, grow ugly, weak, and foolish. You are always lost, late or soon.
Sometimes the prey turns upon us and bites. It is a small thing. When wounded or weary, we fly away to restore. Sometimes a precious thing is lost, but that risk makes the chase all the sweeter.
Man is mortal, and doomed to death and failure and loss.
This lies beyond our comprehension - why do you not despair?