Alexander lowered his head and began following the faint trail winding through the grass.
At first, reading the signs was difficult. The trail consisted of little more than flattened patches of grass where weight had pressed the blades down toward the soil. The marks were irregular and often broken, making it hard to determine the exact direction. Several times Alexander had to stop and slowly circle the area until the next sign revealed itself among the tall grass.
Still, he remained patient.
Tracking required patience above all else, and as Alexander moved across the savanna he settled into a slow and steady rhythm. His eyes constantly scanned the ground while his nose tested the wind, and with every step he became a little more certain that he was moving in the right direction.
Over time, the signs began to change.
Flattened grass appeared more frequently, and in some places clearer marks emerged on the soil itself.
Hoofprints.
Each new track reinforced the same conclusion forming in his mind.
This was not the path of a single animal.
It was the trail of a herd.
The realization filled Alexander with quiet satisfaction, and with every new sign his confidence grew. The creatures that had passed through this stretch of savanna were numerous, and the combined weight of their moving bodies had left a thin but continuous path through the sea of grass.
Without hesitation, Alexander continued following the trail.
As he moved forward, he barely noticed the passage of time. Hours slipped by like water; his full attention remained fixed on the tracks ahead of him. As the sun slowly sank beyond the horizon, darkness began to spread across the savanna, but Alexander did not stop.
Night settled over the plains.
And he was still following the trail.
Then, suddenly, Alexander stopped as a sharp and familiar scent reached his nose.
There was no mistaking it.
Fresh dung.
A satisfied rumble rose from deep within his chest, and at the same moment a single thought passed through his mind.
"I found you."
From that moment on, Alexander shortened every step he took.
He moved forward with far greater care, placing each paw slowly and deliberately to avoid snapping dry stems beneath his claws. The tall grass brushed softly against his scales as he advanced, but he made sure his body never pushed through it too roughly. Noise meant failure, and failure meant losing the trail he had spent hours following.
For that reason, he moved like a shadow.
Night had fully settled, and the strange sky above cast only a faint light over the savanna. As he crept through the sea of grass, he did not notice how time passed.
Eventually, he stopped when he heard something.
At first, the sound was so faint that he was not even sure it truly existed. But when he focused his attention, he realized what it was.
Breathing.
The breathing of many bodies together, mixed with occasional grunts.
The sound came from far away and was extremely faint; only slightly more than a thin whisper carried by the night wind. The fact that he had noticed it from this distance alone was impressive.
Alexander remained completely motionless for several minutes and listened carefully.
He slowly turned his head, trying to determine the direction the sound was coming from while his ears and nose guided him.
And finally, he saw them.
Ahead of him was an open area covered with short grass where the tall grass did not grow. Spread across this clearing lay a herd of animals.
At least sixty of them.
Long-bodied creatures resembling gazelles rested on the short grass. Their slender bodies barely moved; most of them were sleeping. Each had a long and narrow horn rising upward from the center of its head.
At first, Alexander had difficulty understanding their species in the dark night. But after a few minutes of careful observation, the picture became clear.
Gazelles.
Or a species very similar to them.
He made a quick calculation and estimated that the distance between himself and the herd was roughly one hundred meters.
Alexander remained motionless for a moment longer, carefully observing the clearing before him. From where he crouched within the tall grass, he studied the herd and the open ground around them, slowly forming a plan in his mind. The area offered almost no places to hide, and the herd was large enough that even the smallest mistake could send dozens of hooves crashing through the night.
He needed to be careful.
If these creatures truly resembled gazelles, then their night vision was probably poor. That meant his own nocturnal vision was an advantage he could use. All he had to do was close the distance without alerting them, choose the smallest and weakest target, and escape before the rest of the herd fully understood what had happened.
Simple in theory.
Dangerous in practice.
Alexander lowered his body a little further and began moving again. Each step he took was tiny and deliberate; as he advanced through the grass, his claws touched the ground with great care. Whenever the terrain became too open, he used the few scattered trees as brief cover, slipping from one shadow to another in case any of the animals woke.
Time seemed to move slowly, and there was still no sign that the herd was about to wake.
Step by step, the distance between him and the herd shrank.
Eventually, only fifteen meters remained.
From this distance he realized that the herd was larger than he had first thought. As his eyes adapted more fully to the pale purplish glow of the night sky, he could distinguish far more bodies spread across the clearing.
Not sixty.
Closer to ninety.
And among them were many smaller shapes.
At least fifteen… maybe twenty juveniles.
A brief thought passed through his mind.
"Maybe there really isn't a predator around here hunting them anymore..."
The herd's resting pattern gradually became clearer. The young slept pressed tightly against their mothers, their smaller bodies curled beside the larger ones, seeking both warmth and protection. The adult females usually lay deeper within the herd, while several larger males rested along the outer edges.
Alexander watched patiently and eventually found his target.
Near the outer edge of the herd, a young gazelle lay beside its mother.
It was not the safest target, but it offered the best chance of success. With that decision made, he moved again.
From this distance, the rhythm of their breathing could now be heard clearly, like a soft chorus of inhalations and exhalations spread across the clearing. Alexander slipped past the outermost gazelle with great care, gliding through the darkness as silently as if his heart were not pounding wildly inside his chest.
He passed the first gazelle at the edge of the herd. His steps were so light that even the grass seemed unaware of his weight. Inside his chest his heart beat in strong, heavy pulses, but the rest of his body remained as quiet as a shadow.
He moved past one.
Then another.
As he slipped beside the next animal, an old gazelle suddenly released a sharp snort in its sleep.
Alexander froze instantly.
His muscles locked like stone. The smallest movement could betray him now. The old animal lifted its head slightly, then shifted uneasily and turned its body to adjust its resting position. For a moment it looked as if it might stand up.
Those few seconds felt endless to Alexander.
Finally the animal relaxed again, and the herd slowly returned to its quiet rhythm. A heavy calm settled over the clearing once more, broken only by the whisper of the wind brushing through the grass and the steady breathing of sleeping bodies.
Alexander did not move.
He waited until he was certain the silence was truly safe before allowing even the smallest motion.
Then he advanced again.
Two careful steps carried him past the remaining animals until he finally reached the place he had been aiming for.
The mother.
And the juvenile.
But the mother's large body completely blocked his path, and other adult gazelles lay close along both sides. There was only one way to reach the young gazelle.
He would have to jump over the mother.
Alexander paused for the space of a few breaths, gathering his courage and strengthening his resolve.
Then he drew a slow, deep breath, relaxing his muscles and focusing his mind on a single point.
And then he moved.
In a sudden burst of motion he lunged forward. The distance vanished in a single leap as he cleared the mother's body like a shadow and landed directly on top of the juvenile.
The young gazelle woke instantly.
It lifted its head in panic and tried to cry out.
But Alexander's powerful jaws had already closed around its throat, and the only sound that escaped the animal was a weak, muffled whimper.