Alexander's jaws had just closed around the juvenile's throat when the mother stirred.
Her eyes snapped open, widening first in confusion, then instantly shifting into panic. But Alexander did not wait. The moment the young gazelle's body went slack in his grip, he pushed off the ground and leapt again, clearing the mother's body in a single motion.
By the time she understood what had happened, Alexander was already running.
Behind him, the mother gazelle sprang to her feet, her cry tearing through the silence of the night like a blade. The sound was sharp and desperate, filled with fury. She lunged after him, her hooves ripping through the grass as she gave chase.
But Alexander was faster.
The weight of the juvenile hung from his jaws, its small body brushing against the grass as he ran. His muscles burned with every stride, his claws digging into the earth as they drove him forward.
Behind him, the herd began to awaken.
Heads lifted one after another, ears twitching as confusion spread like a wave through the mass of bodies. For a few precious seconds, most of them didn't even understand what they were seeing.
By then, Alexander had already crossed half the distance to the outer edge of the herd.
Some of the gazelles tried to rise, their long legs scrambling beneath them as they struggled to stand. But they were too late. Before they could fully steady themselves, Alexander shot past them like a dark shadow, the half-limp body of the juvenile still clamped tightly in his jaws.
The clearing erupted into chaos.
More gazelles rose to their feet, hooves striking the ground. Panicked snorts filled the air, and several members of the herd began to chase after him.
Alexander was almost out.
Only a few bodies remained between him and the open savanna beyond.
Then one of them moved.
A large gazelle stepped directly into his path, rising from among the resting herd. It lowered its head, angling the long, narrow horn extending from its skull forward.
The sharp tip pointed directly at Alexander.
And it had no intention of moving aside.
The moment Alexander saw the horn aimed at him, he shifted his direction about thirty degrees to the side. But almost immediately he realized that direction wasn't safe either. Another gazelle was charging at him from that side as well, its long horn thrust forward like a spear. For a brief instant, Alexander slowed, his mind rapidly calculating the situation.
Two obstacles. No clear escape path.
Before his thoughts could fully form, his body moved. Instead of committing to a single direction, he began moving in a zigzag pattern, shifting his weight left, then right, then left again. His steps became unpredictable, small and sudden changes in direction meant to confuse the approaching herbivore.
The gazelle in front of him continued charging straight ahead, its hooves tearing through the grass, unable to make sense of its opponent's movements, its confusion growing.
The distance between them closed rapidly. Just seconds before impact, Alexander twisted his body and sprang sharply to the left. The gazelle lunged toward where he had been a heartbeat earlier, and Alexander landed just beyond the animal's shoulder.
But he had almost no time to recover.
The second gazelle had already caught up from the side. It drove its horn forward, the sharp tip about to pierce straight through his abdomen. For a split second, death rushed toward him.
His body reacted on instinct.
Instead of continuing forward with the momentum of his leap, he dropped. He threw his entire body to the ground, pressing himself as low as possible into the grass. The charging animal had already committed to its attack; its head was lowered, its eyes locked onto where Alexander had been only a moment ago. In the chaos of motion, it was too late for it to register the sudden change in height.
The gazelle struck Alexander.
But not with its horn.
With its forelegs.
The impact knocked the breath from Alexander for a moment, but it also shattered the attacker's balance. The gazelle stumbled the instant it collided with him, its hooves tangling as its forward momentum carried it into a roll. It crashed to the ground beside Alexander, tumbling once, twice, three times before sliding to a stop across the grass.
Alexander was already moving.
The moment the animal lost its balance, he sprang back to his feet and ran with everything he had. The weight of the juvenile still hung from his jaws, but adrenaline pushed him forward.
Behind him, the herd was fully awake now. The thunder of hooves filled the clearing as the massive group of gazelles surged after him.
There was barely a meter between them.
Maybe two.
He ran with everything he had.
The herd surged after him, a pounding mass of bodies and hooves. The distance between them did not change. It did not grow, and it did not shrink. Every breath, every second stretched out for Alexander like an eternity, as if time itself had slowed.
The chase had barely lasted a minute.
Then he felt it.
One of the long horns brushed against his tail as it swung behind him.
In that instant, he understood.
He was not fast enough.
They were about to catch him.
Ahead, he could see the tall grass in the distance. At least fifty meters away. That had been his goal, to dive into it and disappear into the darkness. But he had failed to create any distance, and worse, he knew he could not keep this pace for much longer. The fatigue was already setting in. His legs burned, screaming that they had not been made for long-distance running.
So he abandoned the idea.
His mind shifted rapidly, searching for another option.
And what he found was something he had never tried before.
He adjusted his direction by about fifteen degrees and kept running at full speed. Ten seconds passed, but now the horn behind him was constantly grazing his tail. Still, he had almost reached it.
Ahead of him, a tall tree rose from the savanna, nearly ten meters high, its thick branches spreading outward in every direction.
Five meters.
He closed the distance in less than five seconds.
Just as the space between them shrank to half a meter, he shifted slightly to the side, narrowly avoiding the horn that lunged toward him from behind.
Then he jumped.
With all his strength, he launched himself upward.
His claws struck the tree, sinking into the bark, and the moment he made contact he pushed again, using all his strength to propel himself higher. As he rose, one of his claws caught onto a branch within reach, and he used it to steady himself, adding to the upward momentum that carried him further.
And finally, he made it.
He landed on the thick branch.
It took him a few seconds to steady himself and fully realize what he had done.
Below, the gazelles had barely avoided impaling themselves with their own horns as they rushed past the tree. They circled around it and returned, gathering beneath him. They cried out, striking the trunk with their hooves, their voices filling the open savanna with noise.
But Alexander did not move.
He simply stood there, the juvenile still held in his jaws, and watched them.
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