The heavy spring rain from the previous night had completely cleared, leaving behind cloudless dawn. The morning sun broke brilliantly over the landscape, flooding the valley with fresh warmth and stirring the wildlife into active motion.
James opened his eyes within the shaded cave, looking out at the sun-drenched timber. High above, thin curtains of alpine mist drifted lazily across the snow-capped peak of Mount Elbert.
Today... was a perfect day for a migration.
As a wild predator, James didn't need to pack supplies or organize gear; a long-distance trek could be initiated on a single whim. He decided to track a path leading directly north, seeking the cooler, higher-latitude corridors to escape the incoming summer heat.
When he communicated the direction to Aurora and the tool cheetah with a low chuff, neither cat offered any resistance. In their world, where James tracked, they followed.
As for the Giant Beaver, James decided to leave it behind to guard the reservoir lodge—though whether a rodent could actively defend a territory line was entirely up to luck.
"Let's Go!"
Leading Aurora and the cheetah away from the cavern pool, James felt the excitement because The monotonous cycle of territory maintenance was finally being broken by a taste of open travel. Before long, they cleared the northern boundary of his home range. Though they crossed paths with several small bachelor herds of deer along the timberline, James maintained his stride, focused purely on covering ground.
Clearing the foothills of Mount Elbert, the dense pines suddenly seperated, exposing a colossal, wide intermountain basin that stretched into the horizon.
The terrain flattened out instantly. A vast savanna grassland spread out as far as the eye could see, cut directly through the center by a wide, sluggish river that coiled like a snake toward the edge of the sky.
The afternoon sun was scorching here. The wind sweeping across the open grass felt as though it had been roasted over a hearth, carrying heavy waves of dry heat that slicked their hides.
After a full day of steady locomotion, James didn't feel any pressing hunger, but his throat was parched, his tongue dry from the heat. The moment his vision pinned the glittering line of the river ahead, he accelerated into a fast trot.
The muddy banks were already occupied by various groups of native horses and camels drawing water. The moment the three apex cats materialized from the high grass, the herbivores scattered instantly, vacating the immediate shoreline to give the predators a wide berth.
James ignored them, stepping directly into the shallow mud. He lowered his muzzle, lapping up the cool river water with desperate satisfaction.
Even while drinking, his ancient survival instincts held him in a tight check. He remained in a balanced, muscular semi-crouch, his center of gravity shifted slightly toward his hindquarters, his nerves coiled to spring backward at the slightest ripple in the deep water.
In these prehistoric river systems, a hidden crocodile or an unmeasured predator could launch from the dark water in a fraction of a second.
As if responding to his paranoia, the flat surface of the river exploded just five meters ahead of his snout, a heavy sheet of water spraying outward as a massive, dark cranium broke into the daylight.
SPLASH
James detonated backward, his upgraded hind muscles launching his frame three meters up the bank in a protective reflex.
But as the water cleared and his pulse stabilized, James realized the skull tracking toward him wasn't covered in the armored scales of a crocodilian. It looked uncannily like a massive... hippo.
"How the hell is there a hippo in North America?"
James stared in astonishment, his human paleontological memory failing to recognize the creature. He immediately called up the System interface to scan the animal.
Toxodon!
A massive, specialized ungulate native to the American continent. The metrics filled his screen: 3 meters long, 1.5 meters at the shoulder hump, and a staggering weight mass of 1.5 metric tons.
Visually, the creature resembled a bizarre, tank-like hybrid between a rhinoceros and a common hippopotamus. It possessed a blunt, heavy skull, an immense barrel-shaped torso, and short, column-like limbs. The vertebrae above its shoulders extended upward into highly developed neural spines, creating a distinct, heavily muscled hump on its upper back.
Eliciting the exact behavioral patterns of modern African hippos, the Toxodon spent its cycles confined to river channels, deep lakes, and marshlands where the aquatic vegetation was dense.
Despite being a strict herbivore, a 1.5-ton mammal was never docile. They possessed an intensely aggressive, zero-tolerance territorial drive within the water, routinely crushing crocodiles, giant beavers, and snapping turtles that blundered into their territory. In tracts where a dominant Toxodon held the water area, no other large aquatic predator dared to linger.
The river titan completely ignored the cats on the bank. It had simply came to the surface to cycle the air in its lungs, its wide nostrils inhaling river mist before it sank back into the shallows.
Seeing that the creature lacked any active hunting intent, James trotted back down to the mud and finished drawing water.
"I wonder what a 1.5-ton river pig tastes like?"
While he lapped at the current, his eyes remained fixed on the massive, shadowed hump of the submerged beast. Looking at that immense volume of fresh muscle and fat, his predatory nature naturally began evaluating the meat quality. It was the unyielding instinct of a carnivore.
Tackling a 1,500-kilogram tank was in an entirely different tier of difficulty than wrestling a ground sloth or a bison. The mass advantage was severely stacked against him.
But as James analyzed its physical profile, he noticed a critical tactical deficit: the Toxodon carried no weaponry to attack.
* The Ground Sloth: Havemassive, scythe-like claws capable of cleaving a tiger open.
* The Ancient Bison have a heavy pair of curved horns designed to impale predators.
The Toxodon possessed no horns, armor plates, or defensive spikes. Its solitary defensive asset was its immense, wide muzzle, which housed a pair of massive, ever-growing incisors that resembled giant chisel blades. If those jaws could hinge open to a ninety-degree angle like a modern hippo, a single bite could split a Sabertooth's spine.
"It won't stay submerged forever,"James calculated, his teeth clicking together. "The moment it come to surface, the advantage will be mine."
Finishing his water, James stepped back to regroup with Aurora and the tool cheetah. He gave a low growl, locking his gaze on the river as he delivered the command to prepare for a heavy harvest.
Hunkering down within the high savanna grass, James maintained a watch over the channel.
Throughout the peak heat of the day, the Toxodon remained entirely aquatic. Its massive torso stayed buoyant within the deeper current, leaving nothing but its small ears, raised eyes, and wide nostrils exposed above the ripple. The strategy was flawless—it allowed the mammal to regulate its core temperature and track the bank for danger while keeping its physically completely hidden from predators.
James remained perfectly still, his patience absolute.
It was well into the twilight hours before the sun finally dipped below the basin ridge, letting a cool, refreshing breeze sweep across the open flats to drop the temperature.
Right on schedule, the water broke near the reeds. The massive, blunt head of the Toxodon materialized once more, its heavy body churning through the mud as it slowly hauled its 1.5-ton mass onto the grassy bank.
Like its modern African counterparts, the beast was semi-aquatic. It used the river during the day to shield its sensitive hide from drying and cracking under the sun, waiting for the security of nightfall to venture inland to graze on the tough shoreline sedges.
The giant didn't travel deep into the flats; it stayed within ten meters of the safety of the current, its heavy teeth making a rhythmic, shearing sound as it cropped the vegetation.
"You're finally out ," James thought tightening his muscles. He turned his head and emitted a sharp, barely audible chuff to Aurora and the cheetah.
Utilizing the dense cover of the high grass and the fading light, the three cats split their directions, executing a silent stalk toward the feeding giant.
"We have to break its frame instantly," James monitored the distance. "If it manages to reverse its momentum and slip back into the deep water, the hunt be fail."
The approach was executed flawlessly. Having held the absolute monopoly of power within this channel for so long, the Toxodon's situational awareness had grown lazy; it remained completely oblivious to the three apex carnivores closing the ring.
When James reached the ten-meter threshold directly behind the giant's blind spot, he halted his stride, his emerald eyes glowing in the dark with intense, predatory focus.
Pinning the exact position of the beast's hip structure, he compressed his lower limbs and detonated from the brush like a launched missile.
"ROAR——"
A thunderous, terrifying challenge ripped through the basin, shattering the quiet of the river flats as the golden tiger launched his strike!