By the next morning, James's third strike had pushed the Hyena Queen to the brink of insanity. She had learned nothing. Despite the casualties, she still had her pack scattered on patrol, and in a heartbeat, James had lunged from the shadows to claim another life.
Only six adult hyenas remained, including the Queen herself.
The Queen was practically a commander without an army. She paced with frantic, explosive rage, already weighing the idea of abandoning the camp entirely. If she couldn't fight him, she would hide.
"ROAR—"
But just as the first light touched the horizon, James appeared again. This time, there was no hiding. He walked into the center of the camp with predatory arrogance, finished with the hit-and-run tactics of a Assassin.
The Queen froze at the sight of him. She was paralyzed, her mind failing to process his bold entry.
The five remaining adults huddled around her. They were broken, their spirits shattered by the night's slaughter. They shrieked in terror as he approached, their eyes wide with deep-seated dread.
Attributes are maxed out. Wiping them all out now shouldn't be an issue.
James watched them hesitate. He felt no fear, only a burning intent to finish the hunt. He had already killed five hyenas, netting him 210 Gene Points. He had cashed them in immediately, pumping 7 points into each of his three primary attributes.
"ROAR!!"
He didn't waste time with posturing. After a deafening challenge, James exploded forward. He covered the distance in a blur, kicking up a storm of dust as he charged the Queen.
"A-OOO!!"
The pack hadn't expected him to stay and fight. When they realized he was closing the gap instead of retreating, they broke and scattered like chaff in the wind. None of them had the stomach for a head-on collision.
James ignored the stragglers and locked onto the Queen. She was the largest, and his primary target. Three massive strides were all it took to overtake her.
THUD!!
The Queen was slammed into the dirt. Her terror was absolute; the arrogance she had felt during her coronation had been replaced by agonizing desperation. James felt nothing for her. He lunged, his sabers driving ruthlessly into her throat.
PSHHH!
The Queen's pupils dilated. She couldn't even scream as the arterial spray began to bubble from her neck. Her limbs thrashed against the ground in a final, frantic struggle, but the movements grew smaller and weaker with every heartbeat.
With the Queen dead, James pursued two more females, killing them with cold efficiency. The remaining three took the opportunity to bolt from the camp and vanish. James watched them go; chasing them further was a waste of energy.
It was a minor regret, but he was satisfied. The clan was effectively destroyed. He looked down at his paws, his fur matted with dark blood, feeling a brief sense of detachment.
"A-OOO... A-OOO..."
A familiar sound echoed through the camp. It was the yipping of hyenas, but the tone was high and fragile—infant voices without the grating edge of an adult's call.
*Cubs?*
James searched the area and quickly found the source. Deep within the thickets and rock crevices were several small burrows.
"A-OOO~~"
The whimpering was constant. The cubs were hungry, calling for mothers who would never return. James stood over the dens for a long moment before walking away.
He wouldn't kill them. First, the cave entrances were too narrow for his sub-adult frame to enter. Second, the Gene Point payout for cubs was negligible compared to adults; it wasn't worth the effort.
As for mercy? He didn't deny he felt a flicker of it. But he knew the law of the Pleistocene. Without parents, their chances of survival were near zero. He would leave them to their fate.
Before returning to the den, James stopped at a riverbank. He meticulously scrubbed his fur as far as his paws can reach, washing away the dried mud and the rank stench of hyena blood.
Once his coat was dry and groomed, he slipped back into the cave. Everything was normal. Mom and Dad were still asleep, their positions unchanged from when he left. But as James tried to step quietly toward his spot, Mom's eyes snapped open.
Even through the wash, she caught the lingering iron scent of blood and the musky odor of hyenas.
"ROAR~~"
She let out a low, questioning grunt of concern. James rubbed his cheek against hers, signaling he was unhurt, and collapsed onto the dirt. The night's work had drained him. Mom wasn't satisfied until she had performed a detailed inspection of his body, relaxing only when she found no wounds.
He slept until evening, waking only when his internal clock signaled the sunset. He stretched, his bones letting out an audible groan of fatigue.
Zack and Zoe immediately crowded him. It was the first time they had seen their brother sleep so late. Zack had even tried to roar in his ear several times throughout the day, but James hadn't moved.
BAM!
After finishing his stretch, James delivered a sharp cuff to Zack's head—a reminder that he had heard every roar and was now settling the debt. Zack yipped and scurried away, tail tucked, looking for somewhere to hide.
With his rest finished, James watched his parents. They were rubbing heads and nuzzling, locked in a deep exchange. The decision was made.
Migration.
Home.
They were leaving at dawn. They would take the children and head North, back to the Rocky Mountains. For animals, moving was a matter of survival. They were moving for a better life.
The next morning, under a clear sky, Mom and Dad led James, Zack, and Zoe out. They stepped onto the trail, beginning the long trek back to their previous home.