a baby buff-fellow

It was a rare sight indeed to see a young bison all alone on the Prairie. Hattori's gaze roved over the surrounding hills, half expecting to see its mother nearby but it seemed as though the calf was well and truly alone. With not even another member of its species in sight or close enough to smell. A herd of pronghorn lingered nearby, all gathered together and staring at the lone wolf with many sets of watchful eyes. They had the sense to know he had little interest in them, after all why would he hunt them when there were far easier pickings available?

The calf did not seem overly distressed, but there was an obvious sense of bewilderment in the way it plodded along. As though it had never had to choose its own path before. Even if Hattori had not stumbled upon it, the calf would not survive for long on its own. Sooner or later a carnivore would find it and bring an end to its woefully short life. And there was no use in delaying the inevitable, it might as well be Hattori that took advantage of this sad situation.

Stepping down from the hillside he made his way closer to the calf, not even bothering to mask his approach. If the calf ran, he would catch it. If it stared at him with uncertainty the result would still be the same. The creature would die this day.