The day was still; the light from the sun held ture, the leaves of the swamp's trees unmoving by the stagnant air. Not a bird sung nor did the wildlife shatter amongst the brush. This was an odd part of the swamp. Dead, silent, and unmoving.Perfect, he thought, for this experiment.
A buck, tall and thin, moved silently over the roots of the swamp floor. Within his jaws, held there ever so gently by razor sharp fangs, he carried a foal, dead from starvation. Framed by trees, a shallow hole of clear water lay, no more than three kin-lengths wide and barely knee deep. Ever so gently, he lay the child down and watched it sink. It wouldn't stay that way, he knew. So out came the stones, placed on the tail and head, to hold her under. With a nod, he stepped out of the water and found his usual spot on a sunning rock to wait and watch.
Vesperiie
There you go~
