The Antelopes

In the drylands of the Savannah two antelopes; a mother and her young, were feeding upon the dried tallgrass that covered the ground. The mother had beautiful polished, brown curled horns with a silk peachy orange hide that covered her tender flesh and clean hooves. Her young was not as beautiful as her and had short stumpy horns.

  After their small feast they laid down under the shade of a tree, before raising their heads to hear tyres running through the dusty pathway. It was a jeep coated with tall grass camouflage and large tyres made for rough roads. The mother and her young attempted to silently rustle through the grass to escape from the menacing jeep. It was shortly before they heard a large ‘BANG!’.

  The young antelope panicked and ran, but was not able to find his mother behind him. He stood still, hidden under the grass. He heard a faint scream before it faded away. He tried to retreat back to his mother, but heard the men coming close to the cadaver. The antelope had no choice but to run as fast as he could with his hind legs. ‘CLANK!’. The antelope looked down under to find a sudden sharp pain on his back leg. The bear trap underneath him had locked him in place. Attempting to pull his leg free increased intense the pain. Tearing up from unbearable injury, the antelope had cried for nearby help. ‘Hehehe.’ A pitch long laugh was heard from the top of a tree. A large lumpy silhouette was sitting still from the tree. The silhouette reeled in closer to the sunlight. The hyena atop the tree was laughing continuously. ‘Hehehehe. Such a foolish animal.’ cried the hyena. ‘Couldn’t you see the trap? You should be relieved. I’m not in for antelope flesh today. It’s what you would call… too runny.’ The antelope continued to scream for help. ‘You can cry your vocal cords out any way you like. Not like anyone cares about you. You were made no more than to be animate food.’ said the hyena, before hiding back into the tree’s shadow.

  The grass behind him rustled to reveal the two poachers that had previously murdered his mother. One poacher clasped together his snout meanwhile the other held a gun against and towards its lung location. The trembling young antelope resisted, but was no match for the poacher’s strength. It was not long before it had heard its last sound… ‘bang.’

  A warm orange light sheening on one side of its face, the young antelope stayed close to his mother, head to head, or at least, head trophy against head trophy.