The juvenile female eyes her prey across a toy-strewn carpeted jungle. Little more than a baby at 17 months old, nature has still provided her with the reflexes and coordination for her task. Her prey, a juvenile male of the species, less than a year older than she, sits distracted by the glowing box a few feet away.
She uses neither teeth nor claws. Instead she fashions a rudimentary club from a miniature broomstick.
Crouching, she watches and waits for the right moment to pounce. She sees her opportunity, sidles up to the male, and strikes. She makes contact with a satisfying thwack.
Retreating out of range for retaliation, she celebrates her victory by singing the song of her people, a cackle which can be heard across the entire range of her habitat. Triumphant, she wanders off in search of food for her growing body. She will hunt again another day.