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The crack of bone striking bone echoed down the mountain like a roll of thunder. Before the first wave had faded from the rocky landscape, it was chased by another and another.

Large bighorn rams, fueled on testosterone and rage, smashed their heads together in the hopes of earning rights to mates. With ewes watching nearby, the contestants reared on hind legs before charging forward, horns and skulls meeting with a tremendous clatter. The battlers were so engrossed in their displays of strength that they took no notice of the gasping interloper slowly approaching.

The desiccated husk was able to climb the cliff side more out of luck than any true ability it had gained in life. Its fingertips had worn away to the bone and most of its skin was chalky white with dust and scraped flakes of skin. It tried to groan but its shriveled throat could only emit a soft rasp.

As it reached the ledge containing the ramming rams it stared up hungrily with wide eyes, what remained of its lips peeled back from rotting teeth that clacked in anticipation of its next meal. Eagerly, it lifted itself higher in attempt to climb onto the flat patch of ground, bringing its head directly into the path of the charging sheep.

The brittle decaying bones of the shambler's skull gave little resistance to the crushing force of a pair of randy rams. The hungerer's head disappeared with a squish and a crunch, coating both of the competitors in ichor. The rams gave startled bleats and fled, leaving the less animated corpse to fall limply back down the mountain side it had so laboriously climbed.

Some of the younger males were struck with curiosity about the strange predator suddenly in their midst and followed it down. Their nimble hooves picked safe passage while the unfortunate hungerer was left to attempt flight without the benefit of wings.

The falling corpse struck the ground with the crackle of dried twigs breaking underfoot and a cloud of disturbed soil sent flying into the air, searching for the source of its agitation like a swarm of bees. The younger rams halted several feet above and looked down at the mangled form until boredom sent them back to safer ground higher up.

They were not to be left unamused for long, however, as soon another stalker poked its head into their sights. Drawn by the continued cracking of skulls, the undead, this one much fresher than it's forebearer, let out a loud groan and reached out a grasping hand at the rams, hoping to snatch itself an easy meal.

Irritated by the interruption, one of the hopeful studs instead rammed his horns into the creature's forehead, leaving two ribbed dents in its forehead and sending it, much like the one before, falling helplessly back downward.

Once more the youngers trotted their way down after it, but were surprised to find themselves greeted by a herd of oncoming creatures much like the first. The hungry undead were in varying states of decay, some struggling to climb with missing limbs and appendages. Such unfortunates were left down near the bottom of the cliff to scratch feebly while others wormed their way higher toward the source of their attractions.

Driven as much as any ram, the undead came in a drove, groaning, reaching, clawing and slavering over rock and dust while the bighorn sheep watched calmly from above. Pausing their ritual, the large rams stood ready to defend their flocks as well as their territory. As soon as one head popped up over a ledge, it was smacked back down again in a garish game of whack-a-mole. One by one and sometimes in twos, the crawling zombies were sent tumbling back to the flatter earth below.

Emboldened by their elders, several of the younger rams also got in on the game, playfully kicking, butting or jumping on the rotten invaders. One particularly brave lamb leapt high into the air to land deftly atop a zombie's head, resting but a moment before flipping back off again as the undead's grip loosened and it began its decent.

The dislodged deceased often landed with muted crunches or liquid squishes, rarely to rise back up again. As the bodies piled up, they began to soften the blows of their fellows, allowing them a second attempt at the seemingly untouchable ungulates before they joined the growing litter. A few shattered corpses still reached upward and groaned their complaints of unsatisfied hunger.

For several hours the mountain was under siege, but still the sheep refused to back down. Taking only brief pauses for mouthfuls of graze, the beasts kept constant vigil for interlopers until the last climber had finally been knocked away and dispatched.

When even the calls of the shamblers left below had been carried away by the mountain winds, the rams stood, shook out their thick coats, and returned to sizing each other up. It did not take long before the thunderous cracks of combat again echoed their way down from the heights.