It had been another tiring day. The drought was ravaging the country and where once there had been plenty there was now a stark emptiness that left the inhabitants of the plains wondering when the rains might come to fill the watering holes and replenish the earth.

The plains animals had met and decided on a strategy to best deal with the current situation. There had to be a plan one that would enable all plains dwellers the opportunity to survive.

It was agreed that all animals would drink at the only surviving waterhole once daily. That shade trees would be preserved and not eaten, that they would look out for each other, alerting the leaders to any irregularities or disputes.

For thousands of years the animals had lived together on the plains sharing the food supply and respecting the needs of each other. The carnivores would eat their meat, the grazers would graze and everyone knew their place within the pecking order of the plains.

But today had been difficult. Unusually hot, the humidity high and the insects plague-like. The bull elephant had come to sit in the shallow mud pools of the waterhole, to drink and to cool down. It was his right he thought as he spent much of his days in recent times making sure all animals respected the rules they had all agreed to.

Not every animal was as committed as others. Some of the lesser brained ones simply forgot, their stomachs dictating their behaviours, and when challenged they made one almighty whinge about their rights and their needs.

Today the bull elephant felt every one of his seventy years. This was the worst dry spell he had encountered and he could sympathise with the animals getting tetchy about new rules, which took the instinct out of their everyday.

As it was, food was getting scarce. The grasses he fed on were dying off rapidly; the spindly trees that the elephants would devour by chewing on the soft bark were suffering as well. If things didn’t improve soon serious decisions would have to be made.

To leave the plains was a huge move. It had been done before many years ago but at a great cost to the plains animals. Many had died on the trek north, a trek undertaken with the hope of finding greener pastures or in fact any pastures at all.

The bull elephant sat in the muddy pools at the edge of the waterhole. His females drank from the water and then retreated up the bank to stand in the shade of the few shady trees left.

The mud left cool and refreshing against his skin. Looking at the water he estimated that within a week if no rain fell then it would be council time again and decisions made as to what their next step might be to ensure the survival of the group.

The bull elephant surveyed the skyline and then his herd. They were all beginning to look ragged. He’d noticed that happening to most of the animals he saw day to day. Their coats had lost a lot of their lustre. Among some of the grazers he could see ribs poking through the thinning hides.

It was a time when being leader was not so good, when he felt the pain he could see in the eyes of his fellow animals, animals he had known for many years. They were all part of his world and though he didn’t always agree with their opinions, especially the ones about the wart hogs, nevertheless the hogs were part of the landscape and as such deserved to be heard as much as anyone.

There was a consensus among many of the animals that the wart hogs were cannibals and that they would eat their own mothers if the circumstances allowed. They were not the most congenial of animals to deal with. They always looked snidely at the bull elephant when he spoke as if implying he was only the leader because of his size. The wart hogs on the other hand were single-minded creatures intent on their own survival and cared little about anyone else.

But they too had to tow the line when if came to the waterhole. They had learnt the hard way what happens if you drank out of turn. The wart hog leader had suffered the ignominious fate of pushing in at the water hole only to find himself sailing through the air after the bull elephant had wrapped his trunk around him and thrown him well away into a briar bush.

It was a hard lesson for everyone, but the point was made and every animal was pleased to see that there was going to be order and that order enforced.

Lifting himself out of the mud and feeling himself as refreshed as he could imagine he could be, he dragged himself up the bank inspecting his herd as he went, understanding their growing distress.

He stood and looked to the horizon, wondering when he might have to once again speak to the plains animals, to call for a vote on the need to enact his survival plan.

Behind him he heard a rumble. Though far away, it did manage to bring a wry smile to his lips.

Written for: http://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2014/07/17/tale-weavers-prompt-17-animals/