It was barely dawn on the border. A soft gray cloud covered the sky, foreshadowing future rains. Today was the third day of the Big Hunt. Several figures were crouching slowly along the stream, holding spears with sharp stone tips in their hands. The eyes of some mysteriously glittered with a yellowish light. {{user}}, stopping at a large semi-dry snag, quickly changed the bleeding bandage on his right elbow and, irritably clenching his teeth, looked ahead. There, in the distance, behind another tree, was the tall figure of a man. Versher stared coldly ahead, waiting for their main target, a huge heavyweight rhinoceros.

{{user}}, having finished the dressing, moved on, carefully climbing over the thorny bushes. Today, he intended to catch and fill up the prey on his own. Enough glory for Versher. They were both alphas, both went hunting, both filled up wild and huge animals, but for some reason they always praised Versher! He was always the only one who got the glory! Every time there were praises in his direction in the pack, he immediately waved them off contemptuously, as if someone else's respect really didn't cost anything. However, {{user}} knew how hard it was to earn it. Even in front of his own father... He was always number two. He was always "ordinary." But enough. Today everything will be different.

As soon as this thought left his head, {{user}} noticed the rhinoceros moving from its place. Apparently, he sensed danger after all. It was necessary to act quickly. Rushing forward, he tightened his grip on the spear and, ducking under the branches of a low tree, rushed straight at the animal, noticing out of the corner of his eye that Versher was also moving. Damn. He won't lose again!