“Hoot, hoot.”
Come on, take the bait!
That low, rhythmic hum sounded like a harbinger of death to most.
To Titan, however, it was the sweet sound of his devious scheme finally coming together.
Titan was so excited to be doing something sinister that his cold-blooded veins practically boiled.
He forced himself to calm down.
He held his breath, slowed his heart rate, and perfectly mimicked a piece of dead driftwood floating on the lake.
He drifted silently, adjusting his angle in the water.
He aligned his body parallel to the fallen log spanning the lake, completely vanishing into the deep shadows of the night.
“Hoot, hoot.”
The sound was getting closer.
A gentle breeze swept through the enclosure.
It was impossible to tell if the rustling came from the cool summer wind or a predator stalking through the darkness.
A sudden realization struck Titan.
Logically speaking, owls were masters of silent flight.
Why on earth would one be vocalizing while hunting?
It had done the exact same thing yesterday.
Wasn’t it just giving away its own position?
Click.
A tiny sound, barely louder than a pin drop, cut through the deathly silence.
It blended seamlessly with the fading chirps of the cicadas.
Titan didn’t dare make a rash move.
He kept his scaly body firmly planted in the shadows beneath the dead log.
Only a sliver of his golden pupils peeked out from beneath the withered vines, piercing through the gloom to scan the sky.
He finally spotted it.
A large creature landed squarely in the middle of the slanted roof covering the zoo’s main walkway.
It wasn’t particularly elegant, but its silhouette looked far more heavily built than a standard hawk.
The pale crescent moon hung low in the sky behind the bird.
The intense backlighting cast the owl in a terrifying, imposing silhouette.
“Hoot, hoot.”
The massive owl slowly swiveled its head.
Its large, round eyes glowed with an eerie, terrifying light in the darkness, staring intently at the dead log like the Grim Reaper.
For a fleeting second, Titan seriously suspected they had made direct eye contact.
It was then that he finally understood the bird’s strategy.
The owl was actively testing the waters.
It had done this yesterday, and it was doing it again today.
It wasn’t an arrogant predator.
It was incredibly cautious, constantly vocalizing to gauge reactions, ensuring it wouldn’t accidentally become prey itself.
This complicated things.
Titan realized he had severely underestimated his opponent.
Owls had excellent memories.
It undoubtedly remembered that a crocodile lived in this lake.
It wasn’t like he could just pop his head out and yell at the bird to come drown itself so he could save it and earn its eternal loyalty.
Rustle.
A breeze swept across the lake, causing the hanging vines near Titan to sway and momentarily block his vision.
It only took a second.
When the vines finally settled, the owl had completely vanished from the roof.
The sound was identical to the one before, only much closer.
The hollow log blocked Titan’s line of sight, forcing him to guess the bird’s location entirely by sound.
Was it on the grass?
No, it had to be higher up.
Maybe the concrete exhibit wall?
Titan didn’t budge, and the owl remained perfectly still.
The two predators were locked in a tense stalemate.
Titan was trying to outsmart a bird that was actively battling wits against an unseen threat.
It was a pure test of patience.
Hours passed.
The dark night gradually gave way to a bright blue sky dotted with fluffy white clouds.
The warm morning sun peeked over the zoo buildings.
It cast a golden reflection on the water and illuminated a patch of very cozy-looking brown feathers.
Titan was getting restless.
Something felt completely off.
Splash.
With a microscopic twitch of his tail, the baby crocodile drifted out from his hiding spot.
He confirmed his half-weasel bait was still resting perfectly on the log.
Then, he turned his gaze toward the spot where he had sensed the owl.
Good news.
His target was still there.
A massive, plump brown bird with black-tipped feathers was perched securely on the concrete wall.
Bad news.
The stupid bird had fallen asleep.
Its massive round eyes were shut tight.
The feathery tufts on its head sat unevenly, making it look incredibly messy and completely non-threatening.
I stayed up all night freezing in a lake to ambush you, and you just went to sleep?!
Titan felt a powerful urge to throw a massive crocodilian tantrum.
He aggressively swallowed his frustration and tried to formulate a backup plan.
Waiting for it to wake up naturally was hopeless.
The moment Old Larry arrived with breakfast, the owl would get spooked and fly off.
Titan couldn’t exactly climb the wall and drag the bird into the water himself.
Just as Titan accepted that his devious plot had failed, a dark shadow materialized high in the morning sky.
It was growing larger by the second.
What in the world is that?
A sudden gust of wind violently swept overhead.
An elegant, aerodynamic figure dove from the clouds and delivered a vicious strike directly to the sleeping eagle-owl’s head.
“Squawk!”
The owl’s eyes snapped open in sheer terror.
It let out a panicked shriek.
The massive kinetic impact knocked it completely off balance, sending it tumbling off the wall.
Feathers scattered into the air.
The owl flapped its wings frantically, trying desperately to recover, but it was completely useless.
It plummeted like a stone, splashing violently into the center of the lake.
“Hoot!
Heavy ripples surged across the exhibit pool.
The massive bird thrashed around in absolute panic, its heavy feathers rapidly soaking up water.
Titan stared blankly up at the sky, trying to identify the fleeting afterimage of the attacker.
Gurgle, splash.
The lake water completely waterlogged the owl’s massive wings, quickly slowing its panicked thrashing.
Titan noticed the uninvited aerial guest pause briefly in mid-air, as if annoyed it hadn’t secured a clean kill.
Was it a common kestrel?
A peregrine falcon?
Titan honestly couldn’t tell.
Gurgle, gurgle.
Well, it looked like his target was actively drowning.
Titan didn’t waste another second.
He dove deeper into the lake, swam beneath the flailing bird, and let the soggy owl rest on his broad back.
He broke the surface and slowly paddled toward the shore.
Drip, drop.
Titan lumbered onto the grass.
He tilted his body, unceremoniously dumping the heavy, soaked bird onto the lawn.
It was only then that he realized just how pathetic the creature looked.
Dude, what happened to you?
Without its fluffy feathers puffed out, the Eurasian Eagle-Owl looked incredibly tiny and fragile.
It had lost all of its robust intimidation, resembling a wet, malnourished greyhound more than an apex predator.
The owl’s eyes were as wide as saucers.
It stared at Titan in absolute, unblinking disbelief.
It shakily got to its feet, took a hesitant step backward, and attempted to flap its waterlogged wings.
The effort was useless, doing nothing but spraying cold water droplets everywhere.
Realizing it had absolutely zero chance of flying away, the owl decisively chose to stand its ground.
It tilted its soaked wings forward, desperately trying to puff itself up to look intimidating.
It snapped its sharp beak and let out a defiant shriek.
“Squawk!”
The proud raptor was absolutely furious.
Titan wasn’t bothered in the slightest.
His primary goal all along was to forcefully establish a diplomatic relationship with the eagle-owl.
If he succeeded, having a personal, flying night-vision radar stationed in his exhibit would be a massive advantage.
He deliberately gave the bird some space.
He waited patiently as the owl slowly backed itself into the corner of the concrete wall.
Once the bird’s panicked breathing leveled out, Titan turned his back.
He waddled over to the dead log and grabbed the half-weasel bait he had prepared earlier.
“Hoot, hoot.”
The owl didn’t lower its guard, but it did stop shrieking.
It occasionally let out a low, vibrating hum, seemingly trying to psych itself up for a fight.
Titan leisurely approached, stopping exactly six feet away from the cornered bird.
He casually dropped the half-weasel onto the grass.
To prove it wasn’t poisoned, he swallowed a remaining scrap of fish he had saved in his own mouth.
Then, he slowly retreated to the edge of the lake, laid his belly on the grass, and opened his jaws to sunbathe.
He luxuriated in the morning heat, keeping a discreet eye on the shivering eagle-owl out of his peripheral vision.
The absolute second he noticed the bird’s gaze shift hungrily from him down to the fresh meat, he smiled inwardly.
The diplomatic treaty was officially signed.