17 September 2012
As the noontime sun slumbers behind a thick blanket of cloud the landscape glistens; it glitters with every shade of green and brown. Yet between them the yellows, reds, blues, shift silently as the light of the day moves past its peak.
The bush is thick around the watering hole and all is quiet, even the chattering rainbow bee eaters have fallen silent.
A thick, blood-stained muzzle pushes forwards, slicing thought the undergrowth.
Her spotted hide perfectly camouflages her movements, making her blind to her prey. The pack follows her every move as they shrink closer to the herd.
The hyena picks out the wildebeest calf, and they all seem to know. With a single pack mind they slink forward, shoulders hunched.
The golden savanna slips in waves around the galloping herd as cloven hooves thunder across the dry ground.
But strong jaws find their target, falling in the dust. The pack will eat tonight.
The Hunt • Opuss № I