malins
Stumbling Seeker
Ahead, there was a large outcrop of rocks, a clump of trees clustered on one side, around it tall, lush grass. Through the shimmer of heat-haze, cat-tails swayed among a dense stand of reed, promising wet mud, perhaps even flowing water.
The wind against his nostrils carried a familiar note – recent death, flesh that had just begun to corrupt.
The absence of vultures betrayed the presence of something lurking there, something living that was fierce enough to not only deter, but drive them away entirely, to feed elsewhere.
Since it was a short and unannounced season of plenty, the arid plain becoming a banquet for scavengers of all species, none of the carrion-birds bothered to circle and wait; they had settled for easier pickings they could find with a few lazy flaps of their wings and a long descending glide.
Why waste energy. Do too much of that, and you’ll be the next meal.
The lone wanderer approached warily and came upon the site of combat.
A pack of hyenas had cornered a wounded lion, who in turn denied them access to the trickle of fresh water seeping from the rockface – and, shielded behind him, a heap or bundle of something yet unrecognizable.
Two of the attackers lay dead, the three others exhausted, wounded and intimidated. The sole defender, so much stronger in the beginning, was bleeding heavily. His challengers were waiting it out.
None of them had yet sensed the new arrival.
He was confident that he could kill or disperse them - one by one or all at once, and so he strode in.
The wind against his nostrils carried a familiar note – recent death, flesh that had just begun to corrupt.
The absence of vultures betrayed the presence of something lurking there, something living that was fierce enough to not only deter, but drive them away entirely, to feed elsewhere.
Since it was a short and unannounced season of plenty, the arid plain becoming a banquet for scavengers of all species, none of the carrion-birds bothered to circle and wait; they had settled for easier pickings they could find with a few lazy flaps of their wings and a long descending glide.
Why waste energy. Do too much of that, and you’ll be the next meal.
The lone wanderer approached warily and came upon the site of combat.
A pack of hyenas had cornered a wounded lion, who in turn denied them access to the trickle of fresh water seeping from the rockface – and, shielded behind him, a heap or bundle of something yet unrecognizable.
Two of the attackers lay dead, the three others exhausted, wounded and intimidated. The sole defender, so much stronger in the beginning, was bleeding heavily. His challengers were waiting it out.
None of them had yet sensed the new arrival.
He was confident that he could kill or disperse them - one by one or all at once, and so he strode in.