The fireplace was roaring, and the family was preparing to enjoy a sumptuous dinner.
In the farmhouse's living room, the old satellite phone suddenly rang sharply, breaking the joyous laughter filling the room.
Robert walked over to answer the phone. After a brief "Hello," his expression gradually turned somber.
The call was from his elder brother, Wyatt, whose voice, carried through the electricity, sounded deep and full of suppressed anger.
"Dad, those damned bastards are back again!"
"This morning, when counting the cattle, the numbers didn't match up. In the northern valley of the ranch, I've discovered three more calf carcasses!"
"In a week, I've already lost seven of my best Angus calves!"
Robert asked in a deep voice, "Same as before? Only attacking calves?"
"Exactly!"
Wyatt's voice carried a hint of helplessness.
"The wounds are all on the throat; they've eaten only a small part of the organs. It's purely a kill for sport. These bastards are provoking me!"
