text: [Themes: modern]
  
  There are a few stretched clouds dispersed in the early morning sky as you ride across the African Savanna in your two-man jeep. Not nearly enough to discourage the sun from shining, you think as you push your sunglasses up your nose for the seventh time, only to have them slide back down thanks to the sweat on your skin. It's still cool, but on account of the rigorous start you had to make in order to get out here early enough, you managed to work up a good sweat.
  
  You squint over at your driver and fellow hunter, Eddie Trapper, whose face is formed into a seemingly permanent smile, seeing as he's been grinning like that since you touched down in Africa. You're happy too, of course. This is what you've wanted to do your entire life. You've sworn to everyone back home that you plan on taking on one of the Big Five: the lion, African elephant, Cape buffalo, leopard, or rhinoceros, but you won't say no to a zebra or giraffe if the opportunity presents itself.
  
  Eddie notices you looking and calls over the sound of the jeep. "How do you feel about splitting up? We could see how much we can get done on our own and meet up later."
  
  You lean back and stare for a moment at the dashboard as you ponder your decision.
  
  [Author's Note: Hunt for dangerous animals in the African savanna.]
  
  > Solo Hunt
  "I think I'll take my chances on my own!" You yell back.
  
  Eddie nods. "Sounds good! Where do you wanna be dropped off?"
  
  You glance through the windshield and stare forward at the grassy plain stretching out in front of you in an effort to look for a good spot to begin your hunt. There are a few trees scattered around the plain, and a large cluster of boulders ahead would make an ideal lookout for game.
  
  "Right up there." You say, pointing a finger.
  
  Eddie bobs his head in another nod, and the rim of his baseball cap slides down over his eyes. "Sounds good. I'll drop you here and continue on a bit further to our rendezvous site. Make sure you've got it tagged on your GPS."
  
  You check, and at Eddie's request, re-check the coordinates you have marked on your GPS, as well as on the map that is folded and tucked into your breast pocket. Then Eddie brings the jeep to a lurching halt, stirring up dust. You hop out of the jeep and sling your hunting rifle over one shoulder, and your pack over the other, checking once more that your handgun is secured in its belt holster. You cough loudly to clear dust from your throat before saying to Eddie, "Good luck."
  
  "Likewise."
  
  The jeep starts again and trundles off through the tall dry grass, leaving a cloud of dust in its wake. You allow for a brief moment of celebration, and then it's down to business. Searching for tracks seems to be a good start, so you begin surveying the ground around you.
  
  If there were any tracks, the chances of them surviving after the jeep came through was dismal. After spraying yourself with scent-cover, you hoist your gun higher on your shoulder to a more comfortable position. There are several routes available for you to take. Going further south would mean you could possibly run into Eddie, and you have no desire to come across his trail when he is on the hunt. With that thought in mind, you can also go to your left, which is west of the boulders, or you can choose to go around them to the east. To the west you can see small rolling hills. You turn your head to the right and peer around the boulder by which you are standing, and you get a glimpse of a darker splotch in the distance that could mean a group of trees. You know game stays in the shade during the day.
  
  > go Further in the Savanna
  You move off toward the west toward the vast open plain of the savanna, the occasional tree adding to the view. You retrieve a protein bar from your pack, tear off the wrapper and shove half of it into your mouth. Chewing with enthusiasm, you stay on the lookout for possible game opportunities.
  
  And then you see the cluster of several black shapes, each of them at least five feet at the shoulder. Heavy curved horns, which are fused at the base, form bizarre crowns on the animals' heads. You seem to have wandered across the path of a small herd of African buffalo. You swallow your mouthful of food and glance down at the half-eaten protein bar in your hand as your stomach twinges with unease. Dark chocolate and cashews don't sound as appetizing anymore.
  
  Of all the animals you could run into, you're now face to face with the one responsible for more human deaths in Africa than any other. And just as you're starting to think you can slip away and head back to where Eddie dropped you off, an angry bellow reaches your ears and you wheel around to see a huge black buffalo stalking toward you with its head lowered in a menacing stance. A shiver courses down your spine, and you glance back at the small herd.
  
  You raise your gun with shaking hands and take aim, releasing a shot directly at the bull's head. The bullets have no chance of getting through the thick bone shield on the animal's forehead. Your aim deteriorates with each shot you take, and it only seems to merely enrage the animal further, and it tosses its head, bellowing louder, and as the animal charges toward you, your courage fails. Your gun slips from your hand and you turn tail and run, sprinting for your life across the African savanna. All thoughts of mounting a lion head on your wall have vanished, replaced by images of the angry beast galloping right at you.
  
  "No! No, no, NO!" You're screaming now, pushing your muscles ten times beyond their limit. Maybe you can make it to the jeep in time. But you know that even if there is a chance of reaching Eddie, the jeep's not going to protect you from the heavy horns on the buffalo's head.
  
  It's gaining on you, and as you risk a glance back you see it's nearly ten yards behind you, and the gap is rapidly closing.
  
  A ragged scream tears from your throat as the buffalo's horns catch you hard in the back, and you fall forward, feeling heavy hooves crushing down on your spine as the buffalo rolls you over a few times and then stampedes over your body. You lay broken in the grass, gasping for air as each breath comes as a lungful of fire. The buffalo gives another furious bellow as it circles around and comes at you again with its head bowed, displaying the heavy curved horns on its head.
  
  Your hand touches the handgun in your belt, but you don't have the strength to pull it out. Not that it would do any good. You slump forward into the grass and take another burning breath, your eyes squeezed shut. The buffalo paws the ground with a heavy hoof and charges forward.
  
  The End