Atticus Caravaggio couldn’t believe his eyes. What happened at the edge of the Wild Horse herd shouldn’t be possible. Moving as silently as possible within his hastily-constructed hide, he reviewed the film. He hadn’t hallucinated after all.
He turned another camera directly upon himself and spoke in excited whispers.
“What I’ve witnessed today is astounding! A pair of wolves stalked the edge of a wild horse herd. Three of the horses made the terrible mistake of drifting away from the herd to attend to an apparently injured member. This put them all at risk because remaining with the herd is their best chance at survival.
“The wolves saw their chance and attacked. The lame horse moved with unexpected energy and vitality. Its great head swung around with expert accuracy and bit through the wolf’s foreleg, crippling it. The second wolf, unable to process the shocking reversal, also attacked. One of the horse’s mates attacked the leaping wolf and sheared through the predator’s neck.
“I must confess I was already dazed at this, but then the three horses began to feed on the dying yet still alive wolves. They ripped away large gobbits of flesh and swallowed them whole.
“I cannot believe these events, but the camera footage proves it all. Predatory Horses my friends. They demonstrated impressive intelligence by deceitfully luring in their prey. This is a quantum leap in horse evolution! What else might these formerly dumb herbivores be capable of? Can they speak? Create art? What are the limits of their deceitful behavior?”
Excitedly, Atticus packed up his cameras and walked back to his riding horse. It was carefully picked because it was related to the wild horses he studied. He hoped that it would disturb his subjects far less than a jeep. As he cradled the camera with the critical footage, his horse lifted a hoof and knocked the camera from his hands.
“Stupid buffoon!” raged Atticus.
Angrily, the horse stomped the precious camera into tiny bits.
“Stupid beast!” roared Atticus. “Can you realize what you’ve done?”
In answer, the horse lifted its lip…and bared fangs.
Written for Sunday Photo Fiction. Look here for the original prompt for the week and a blue button linking to a collection of this week’s stories: https://sundayphotofictioner.wordpress.com/2016/06/05/sunday-photo-fiction-june-5th-2016/