Narrator: They look a little bit like a cross between a jackal and a leopard. Let's call them jeopards.
Narrator: Jeopard rhymes with "peppered," and nicely suggests "jeopardy," which is the state these jeopards put you in when they hunt.
Narrator: For the last hundred thousand generations, selection pressure has been training them to cull the grazing herds they hunt.
Narrator: The jeopard pack nips and bays at the larger, healthier herd members, and separates them from one or two smaller, less vital members of the herd.
Narrator: Jeopard casualties are rare. Herd casualties are limited to "enough for this week's meal."
Narrator: Other herd beasts accept this sacrifice. Nonsapient, they place little value on the lives of individual herd members.
Narrator: The jeopards may not be sapient, but they are not stupid. They think, and they learn.
Narrator: Right now they are learning that this new two-legged herd does not play by the usual rules.
Narrator: Evolution taught humans to cheat.