Transmigrated into Hoh Xil - Chapter 4

Plateau pikas were abundant in Hoh Xil.

The only complication was the white-rumped snowfinches that acted as their alarm system.

The two species shared a symbiotic relationship.

Whenever a predator approached, the snowfinches would chatter loudly to warn the pikas—danger was coming!

“Rustle—rustle—”

I shook a thin layer of snow from my coat and nudged the resting Xia’er with my muzzle by way of farewell.

—I’m going hunting!

Xia’er raised his head from between his forepaws, his face full of concern.

I licked the snow from his head and wagged my tail eagerly.

Just wait. I’ll bring you some pikas for a treat!

They taste like chicken, and they’re crunchy!

Wolves were the undisputed apex predators of Hoh Xil.

I wasn’t afraid of anything!

Until…

Hidden behind a low shrub, I watched several pikas feasting around a pile of wild-yak dung and nearly retched.

All right. I was afraid.

I had once seen online that plateau pikas ate wild-yak droppings to extract undigested plant matter, a desperate choice in a place where food was scarce.

But judging from their enthusiastic smacking…

they didn’t look forced.

Just as I prepared to ambush them, a thought flashed through my mind and froze me in place.

Wait. Where had the yak dung come from?!

Could it be…

Behind me, the dry sedge suddenly flattened in one direction.

With a tremendous rush of air, two columns of white vapor shot upward.

Trembling, I turned my head…

“Huff—huff—”

Two violently flaring nostrils blasted powerful jets of breath straight into my face.

The musky stench unique to wild animals—savage and primal—was overwhelming.

Behind the spray of icy mist, an enormous, snow-peak-like figure cast its shadow over me from head to tail.

—A wild yak!

I went numb.

I had never imagined my first face-to-face encounter with one would look like this.

The instinctive fear of danger carved into my genes seized every nerve. I spread my hooked foreclaws and tensely tried to anticipate its next move.

The yak fixed its gaze on me and lashed its tail irritably.

“Drip—drip—”

As we faced off, a ribbon of blood dyed the sedge red, a rare streak of bright color in the wilderness.

I followed the blood trail upward and stared in shock.

Hanging from the yak’s horn was a…

Director Fox?!

I stared at the Tibetan fox’s famously square face and its dead-fish eyes, still open in death…

Oh my goodness.

Director Fox, I’m a huge fan!

Tears of excitement… flowed from the corner of my mouth!

I could no longer remember the last time I had eaten fresh prey.

Unable to hunt, I survived by scavenging. Most often, I found nothing but foul-smelling, wind-dried bones.

Even those required good luck.

I swallowed.

Judging from its condition, the Tibetan fox had only recently died. It could not have been fresher.

As for the wild yak…

It was injured.

A large open wound gaped near its knee joint. It looked severe and badly restricted its movement.

My ears perked up in excitement!

From July through November, male wild yaks fought horn to horn for mating rights. The victor won access to the females.

As for the giant before me, the answer was obvious: he had lost.

Defeated males left the herd and roamed in search of another opportunity.

But his worsening wound had clearly thwarted those plans.

Male wild yaks were especially aggressive during breeding season and attacked anything they regarded as a threat.

That was probably how Director Fox had ended up on his horn.

“Moo—rrrgh—”

The bitter north wind swept through the valley with a desolate howl.

It lifted the yak’s long skirt of hair like a defiant battle flag.

The animal growled a warning and pawed the ground rapidly with a foreleg.

Under normal circumstances, I should have run.

But I was starving.

And Xia’er needed to eat.

This might be my only chance…

Of course, I would not overestimate myself and challenge a wild yak.

Not even an injured one.

One headlong charge would end my little life with ease.

If I acted recklessly, I would probably end up dangling from his other horn, an ill-fated companion to the Tibetan fox.

My target was—the fox!

My mind raced as I tried to devise a way to make the yak shake Director Fox from his horn…