Seeing our family close in, the cheetah looked completely wrecked. It had been so focused on the hunt that it hadn't realized other predators were camping in the area.
To be fair, these American cheetahs were usually top-tier hunters. They didn't have our massive fangs or the freakish size of an American Lion, but they ruled the plains by being light, fast, and explosive. But in a straight-up fight? They're second-tier, just like mountain lions. They can't out-muscle a Sabertooth, and because they usually hunt alone, they get bullied by packs of dire wolves or hyenas all the time.
"Hiss~~"
The cheetah stood over its prize, baring its teeth and snarling. I could tell it hadn't eaten in days either, and it wasn't thrilled about giving up its hard work.
But even a cat could do the math. Five against one isn't a fight. Its snarl sounded more like a desperate bluff than a real threat.
"Roar—"
Mom and Dad didn't charge. They just started circling, letting out deep, chest-rattling growls that meant:
Leave the meat or become a salad for the dinner .
The cheetah stared at the two massive adults, weighed its options, and decided that living was better than starving. It hissed one last time, turned tail, and bolted into the canyon shadows.
"Mrough~~"
With the threat gone, Zack decided to act like a big man. He let out a high-pitched roar, showing off his tiny milk-teeth at the cheetah's retreating butt. He even chased it for a few yards before realizing how fast the thing was, then trotted back to us looking all proud, like he was the one who made the cheetah retreat in fear.
Nobody paid him any attention to this stupid cat . We had a carcass to strip.
Mom and Dad took the organs and the choice cuts from the loin. Zoe and I grabbed the legs. By the time Zack finished his victory lap and realized everyone was already eating, all that was left for him was the backend.
This tastes way better than it should, I thought, feeling the meat hit my stomach. Maybe it's a tiger thing, but stolen food just hits different.
We tore that pronghorn apart. In ten minutes, it was gone. We didn't leave a scrap—we used the sandpaper texture of our tongues to lick the bones clean of every last fiber of meat. When we moved on, all we left behind was a white, skeletal frame in the dirt.
We didn't see it, but the cheetah hadn't actually left. It had been hiding nearby, watching us eat its dinner. Once it was sure the "gang" had left, it dashed back to the kill site, hoping for leftovers.
When it saw the skeleton, its eyes practically welled up.
Are you kidding me? You didn't even leave a tendon for this kitty ?
The cheetah paced in circles, fuming, but hunger eventually won out. It laid down and started licking the bare bones, desperate for even a trace of flavor.
It was a pathetic sight.
Night rolled in, and the temperature in the Grand Canyon dropped . A freezing wind howled down from the glaciers, making the twilight feel even more dead.
The canyon walls were like a giant textbook of Earth's history—layers of red rock and limestone stretching back millions of years. Hidden inside those cliffs were deep, winding caves carved out by water over eons.
One cave in particular had an entrance half-buried in the dirt, barely wide enough for a person to crawl through. But inside, the ceiling opened up into a massive, echoing chamber. It was pitch black and smelled like death.
"Ooh-rah! Ooh-rah!!"
Strange sounds echoed from the depths. They weren't the roars of big cats or the huffs of bears. They sounded like primates. Animals in the area stayed far away from this cave, as if they knew something nasty lived inside.
Deep in the back, a coral snake woke up from its winter nap. It felt the air getting warmer, its cold body finally sluggishly coming back to life. Thinking winter was over, it started to crawl out of its hole.
Crunch!
A heavy foot slammed down on the snake's middle.
The snake lashed out instinctively, its body coiling like a spring as it buried its white fangs into the intruder's leg, pumping in a massive dose of neurotoxin.
"Wuah!"
The creature screamed, trying to shake the snake off, but the damage was done. The venom was already racing toward its lungs, ready to shut down its breathing. The snake let go, but the creature was way too big for it to eat.
"Wu-wah—!"
Suddenly, more voices joined in. A group of shadows rushed forward.
These were humans. Primitive, filthy, and barely covered in mangy animal skins or grass skirts. They looked like total wrecks, covered in grime, but they were fast.
They found the snake immediately. Before it could slither away, a heavy stone smashed its head into the dirt.
The snake died thinking spring had arrived early. It didn't realize that the warmth it felt wasn't the sun—it was the massive campfire burning in the center of the cave, lighting up the walls with a flickering, orange glow.