Some curiosities are carved in stone—and they never forget.
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The boys scrambled across the rocks of the cavern, wet from the rising tide. The smell of hewn stone pervaded the air—dust waiting to be returned to life.
The walls had taken on a luminous sheen—more vibrant than they should have been after thousands of years. Carvings of livestock—bison, horses, stags—had been etched mid-stride, as if the animals were unaware of being stalked. The sound of echoing hooves.
No one was moving.
A nervous chuckle seemed to come from Marvin, one of the inquisitive teens. “Look—it’s like they’re watching us.”
The others exchanged hesitant glances, then turned their heads to him. They were silent.
For too long.
“Marvin,” Nicholas had furrows on his brow.
And those furrows weren’t typical.
The laughter echoed around the cavern.
“Did you just laugh?”
“It wasn’t me,” He swore. But his face had contorted into a too-wide grin.
One he tried to control—vainly.
Then, the walls stirred.
Shadows rippled around the bison’s hooves. They pounded in echo—but nothing moved.
The carvings shimmered in the light of the boys’ lanterns—as if the creatures had noticed.
The hooves echoed—faster.
The boys tried to stand, gripping the stones around them a little too hard.
“Hello?” Nicholas’s question bore a panicked ring.
“Hello!” An echo—not Nicholas’ voice.
Then—fur. On the hooves of the etched bison.
The bison’s muscles.
Twitching.
The paintings on the wall turned.
Antlers poised.
At the boys.
Who wanted to know—too much.
The boys quickly backed out of the cavern. As they did, the bison returned to their etched poses.
Heard.
The tide receded—but the hooves still pounded, for those who dared to listen.
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Have you known curiosity to stir the bison, figuratively? Do share in the comments.
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