Rustle, rustle...
The bushes swayed as a juvenile Parasaurolophus darted from the undergrowth, followed by one, then two... then four companions. Their mother was foraging nearby with the rest of her herd.
These mischievous little ones would often slip away from their mother's side when things felt safe, especially when other herbivores were in the vicinity. A massive Stegosaurus lumbered past them, causing the youngsters to freeze in their tracks.
He looks so powerful.
That was their instinctive thought.
As the Stegosaurus slowly passed, another herbivore appeared on its far side: an Ornithomimus. It was staring intently at the hatchlings.
"Aunnng…"
The hatchlings didn't understand why the creature was staring, so they offered a friendly greeting.
"Aunnng!"
The mont the Stegosaurus cleared the path, the Ornithomimus suddenly lunged. It charged the juveniles and kicked one of them clear off the ground. The Ornithomimus might look slender, but its legs possessed a level of power that a Parasaurolophus hatchling simply couldn't withstand.
The four remaining hatchlings watched their leading sibling fly through the air. Without stopping to see if it was still alive, they turned tail and bolted back toward their mother.
"Aunnng…"
One of them was clearly more composed than the others, imdiately letting out a high-pitched alarm to alert the herd. The other little ones quickly followed suit, their cries joining in a frantic chorus.
The calls alerted the Parasaurolophus herd. This was the signal for danger, usually reserved for when a mber spotted a predator. They all looked toward the source of the noise.
There stood an Ornithomimus, and it was currently chasing their young, trying to land another kick.
"Aunnng!"
This sight instantly enraged the herd. Bellowing, they charged at the Ornithomimus.
The Ornithomimus seed to think one kill wasn't enough, but it couldn't quite land a strike on the second hatchling. Getting tunnel vision, it obsessively pursued the small fry, completely failing to notice the approaching wall of angry Parasaurolophus.
Soon, it was knocked down by a heavy shoulder charge, and a relentless barrage of dinosaur feet began to rain down upon it.
The four surviving hatchlings huddled behind their mother, chirping and "telling" her what had just happened. They couldn't understand why a fellow herbivore would try to drive them away and kill them.
Food was running low.
Ceratosaurus One stared at the Ornithomimus skeleton before him, lost in thought. Several more skeletons were piled nearby, creating a rather macabre sight.
A scar from a chemical burn marked his snout, an injury sustained while driving off the Dilophosaurus pack. The spit from one of those "little poison dogs" had nearly hit his eye; luckily, the creature's aim hadn't been great.
"Ao!"
A juvenile Ceratosaurus darted out from behind Ceratosaurus One, weaving between its father's legs to search for scraps of at on the skeletons.
"Roar."
Ceratosaurus Two let out a soft huff as she stepped up beside Ceratosaurus One, another juvenile trailing behind her. The Cerato pair shared a sweet, brief nuzzle before One gave a low growl to explain the situation.
The food was gone. The Ornithomimus had all left this region.
Ceratosaurus Two was silent for a mont before hesitatingly asking: Did you check the Cross-River Channel? There's still a Diplodocus carcass there.
One gave a decisive, submissive rumble. I don't dare.
Back when Carlo was their size, he and Ceratosaurus Two could still manage to act alongside him. But now that the guy was nearly twice their height, trying to "play together" felt like a death wish. In the past, if he tried to make them do sothing, they could at least resist; now, he could treat them like chew toys with zero effort.
Rumble...
A flash of lightning streaked across the sky, sending the young Ceratosaurus scurrying beneath their parents.
A spark of inspiration hit Ceratosaurus Two. Their children were terrified of the flashes in the sky, which ant they wouldn't wander off. They could leave the young safely in the territory and go hunting together as their success rate would be much higher as a pair.
She led her children to a small earthen mound with a hole just large enough for the two juveniles to crawl into. This was their nest.
…
After escorting Katyusha back to her parents' territory, Carlo returned to the Great Lake. This ti, he didn't lie down under the tree; instead, he hunkered down near the Parasaurolophus resting area. He was honestly afraid of getting hit by lightning.
As it happened, the Parasaurolophus herd returned from their feeding session. They seed to have reached a point where they could treat Carlo as a fixture of the landscape, naturally finding their spots to settle down around him.
One, two, three, four... wait, one's missing?
He tilted his head slightly to look at the mother Parasaurolophus. From her guilty expression, the look of a "divorced mom" who failed to look after the kids but still brought the survivors to see their "ex-husband," Carlo understood roughly what had happened.
Unfortunately, there was nothing he could do now.
The four little ones played in front of Carlo, chirping at him as if they were venting their grievances. Carlo couldn't understand them, but he stayed by the little cuties in silence. Perhaps their logic was simple: Carlo eats at, the Ornithomimus eats plants; since the at-eater eats the plant-eater, maybe Carlo could just eat all the Ornithomimus for them.
Suddenly, Carlo's biological radar, which now spanned the entire Prival Ecological Zone, detected sothing. He sat up straight, tilting his head to carefully analyze the scents in the air.
They're moving more dinosaurs in?!
The "experts" were clever; as long as they fired any employees who expressed dissatisfaction, they could do whatever they wanted.
But not this ti.
There are things that aren't bound by the restrictions of so-called "experts." With his biological radar, Carlo knew the state of the Prival Ecological Zone better than anyone. He knew the carrying capacity had reached its limit, and he wasn't about to let these experts have their way.
What do you think my ho is? A trash can?
…
Dark clouds gathered overhead as if the sky might weep at any mont. Lightning flickered, but it did nothing to dampen the enthusiasm of the dinosaur lovers.
"This is amazing! We're so close to them... Brooklynn?"
Trailing behind a herd of herbivores being moved into the Prival Ecological Zone were three gyrospheres and a vehicle that looked like a cross between a Jeep and a pickup truck. These weren't the staff mbers herding the dinosaurs.
"'Used to be cool? You're making Jurassic World boring?'"
Inside one of the two-seater gyrospheres, Brooklynn ignored Darius's awe. She was looking at the comnts on her phone, looking a bit dejected. She wasn't exactly a dinosaur enthusiast; though she was only a teenager, she was already a major influencer with a massive following and product endorsents, aiming to beco a full-fledged celebrity.
Unfortunately, the videos she had recorded so far at Camp Cretaceous hadn't resonated with her fans, causing her engagent to drop significantly.
Darius felt a bit awkward, riding in a vehicle with soone you don't know well often leads to these monts. Seeing how upset she looked, he figured he should try to distract her and help her relax.
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