Dinoworld
Origins: Scarface
K. Thomas Olsen
©2015
Chapter 1
The male Deinonychus looked over the valley floor as the sun began to rise on the horizon. Clouds shone in brilliant reds and oranges, a brief but beautiful display of natural beauty. The male always enjoyed these brief moments, but today the pleasure would have to be short lived.
Gazing down at his sleeping mate, the male knew they had to move quickly. They remained in the territory of a large pack of rival Deinonychus, and his mate was gravid. She would have to lay her eggs soon if the next generation was to survive. Prolonging the egg laying had dire consequences, often by the female generating a secondary layer over the eggshell. He had seen this many times. With a shell so thick, no hatching could survive.
As the female awoke, the male urged her to move. There would not be time for a morning meal. It was too dangerous. Another day and they would pass out of the territory and be safe. Then they would need to find a place to nest. The pains of hunger began to take their toll, but the pair of dinosaurs had endured much worse.
Walking side by side the pair passed by a herd of Corythosaurus, the herbivorous dinosaurs paying no heed to the predators. The male looked longingly at the animals, four times greater in length and much heavier, a single kill would sustain a full pack of raptors for a week. However, taking down such a beast would require a pack of ten or more individuals. Two weaker creatures would stand no chance. And so, they moved on. Patience was key. Smaller meals were less desirable, but at least they would sustain the pair.
At last, after a full day without rest or sustenance, the pair could no longer smell traces of the enemy pack's territory. The female curled under a low lying tree branch and drifted to sleep. She would have to nest tomorrow or risk the safety of her clutch. She needed food, but was too weak to hunt. Now, sleep was all she could do. In the dimming light of dusk, she made herself comfortable for the night.
The male looked down upon his mate, sensing her weakened state. It was risky, but he had to find food for her. There were few things a solitary Deinonychus could acquire and night was primed with another breed of hunters. Nevertheless, he could not stand to see his mate suffer. He would venture forth into the darkness. If the need arose, he would sacrifice himself. Such was the cost of survival.
The female awoke to the sound of something falling in front of her. In the night air, it was difficult to see, but her sense of smell told her what she needed. It was food. Not much, a lizard of some sort, but it was better than nothing. Slowly she scooped the morsel into her jaws and swallowed, feeling great satisfaction as the raw meat slid down her throat. Then, she returned to her rest.
The male watched as his mate accepted his offering. The offering was small, but it was something. Turning again to the forest, he ventured out once more. Time and time again, he returned to his mate, sacrificing his own well-being for hers. Only when he was satisfied that she had eaten enough did he turn attention to himself. The night was half-gone and the lack of sleep deterred his senses, but he needed food of his own. Once more, he ventured into the darkness. This time, to hunt for his own needs.
The following morning it was the female who woke first with the sun already well on its way across the horizon. She found her mate curled beside her, a half-eaten lizard before him. Cocking her head, she leaned close, finished the tidbit of nourishment, and felt satisfied for the first time in many sleep cycles.
The male awoke soon after. Dizzy from lack of food and sleep, he allowed his mate to lead. After several hours, when the sun was at its peak, the female stopped. A group of shrubs under the shade of a tree had caught her eye. She approached slowly and searched for any hints of another predatory creature. Finding none, she began clawing the soil.
The male watched for several moments and then wandered a short distance away. He gathered fallen branches and other foliage, and then brought them to his mate. She was now squatting over a small hole and had begun to lay her eggs.
There were seven in total, each about the size of the adult raptor's hand and cream colored. It was a decent sized clutch. At least for now the duo could rest. They would have to move soon after the eggs hatched, but for now they could remain. This place was safe, and that was most important right now.
The male curled tightly into a ball in the shade. He was exhausted and needed rest. They both did. The current situation was stable, so the male closed his eyes and slept.
****
Three weeks passed. Of the seven original eggs, five remained. Two had been taken by scavengers while the pair was hunting. While it saddened them for a time, instinct drove them on. Losses occurred all the time, but at least they still had a future. Many nests were not so lucky.
Shorter joint hunts with the pair yielded larger prey, but left the eggs unattended. It was risky, but well worth the reward. Now, the eggs had begun to hatch.
The soft squeaking of infants greeted the pair one morning. Four small Deinonychus covered in damp green plumage greeted the daylight. The fifth could be heard struggling inside the shell. The egg rocked, the unborn infant struggling against the wall of its confinement. The male watched anxiously, wondering if this egg had waited too long in the womb.
The rocking slowed, then ceased. All eyes were on the now unmoving egg. Suddenly, as if by some force of shear will, the egg wall broke away as the infant used one last blow to escape. Though only the head was visible, the infant continued to struggle and forced the rest of its body into the open air. Clawing its way out of the shell, it squeaked and grunted. It was difficult work, but the struggle would make it stronger.
The infant collapsed onto its side, then righted itself to be seated on its tiny haunches. It looked around, dazed at its new surroundings, and then stood. Shaking at first, then finally found firm balance. Within moments, the five hatchlings were able to walk relatively well. They sniffed each other, their nest, and their parents, imprinting the scent of family into their memories.
The adults looked at their newfound family, then at each other. The male left to search for food. The infants would be hungry and even though some had already begun snapping at insects and other small creatures on the ground, fresh dinosaur meat would be best. The female watched the antics of her new family and, had nature allowed her to do so, she would have smiled.
****
As time passed, the infants grew and it soon became time for the family of raptors to move to another territory. They were in neutral ground, which was both a blessing and a curse. Having no established territory meant they did not have to defend, but it also meant other predators would take advantage of the bounty within. Being a small group, they could not defend against other packs and they could not join another due to the infants. The Alpha of any pack would kill them immediately to ensure his own genes would be the ones passed on to the next generation.
One day, while the family had stopped to drink, the infants were allowed to explore the surrounding area. Two wrestled with each other, another napped and the fourth began searching for any insects or ground crawlers it could find to snack on. The smallest of the infants followed this sibling.
It was well known by the infants that creatures hid underneath logs and timber. The first infant approached a promising looking log while the smaller one watched on. Overturning the log, the infant was rewarded with a payment of grubs and beetles. Their hiding place discovered, the creatures tried to quickly flee the greedy jaws of the hungry infant.
One particularly large beetle caught the attention of the infant. Rather than running, the insect pulled its legs tight against its body leaving o
nly the hard shell to contend with the invader. Spying the large prize, the infant approached and began to claw at the carapace. When that failed, it tried gnawing but only succeeded in rubbing its gum line raw.
Seeing as the remaining prey had escaped, returning to the moist earth under another log, the infant grunted in frustration before returning to the group. The smaller infant remained, slowly approaching the strange creature. It had eaten beetles before, but none this large. There had to be a way to get at the flesh beneath the shell.
Walking around the beetle, the infant examined the shell from every angle. Then it pushed on the side of the shell, lifting the bug on its side and finally onto its back. Brown hairs covered the segmented torso of the beetle, slowly contracting and expanding as the insect forced air in and out of its body. Could these segments be softer than the rest of the body?
Experimentally, the infant inserted its hand claws and pressed down. The segments immediately contracted. A sign of pain. Pain meant a soft part of the body. The infant separated its jaws in a wicked saurian version of a smile, wondering what this new creature would taste like.
The family needed to move on. Crying out for the infants to gather, the male saw that four of the five were at his feet and ready to move. Seeing that the smallest infant was not in the immediate area, the male called out again. This time the infant emerged, licking the sides of its jaws. The male snorted in approval and began walking, the female and their five infants following.
What remained unseen was the hollowed shell of the black beetle. The infant had discovered its weakness. It was through this small act the infant began to have more courage. It did not have to be stronger than its prey. Only smarter.
Chapter 2
The infants grew quickly. They were soon two feet in length and fast becoming deadly killers. Though still too young for large prey, they assisted in hunts for medium sized animals that fed the pack for a couple of days. They learned quickly and were eager to please their parents. As a family unit, they searched for a territory they could call their own.
The youngest of the infants was slightly smaller than average, but it had the respect of its kin. A month previous while the adults hunted, the youngsters were left alone in a secluded area. A group of mammals had invaded and attacked. The youngest fought back, killing three of the invaders. The rest were wounded and fled, but not before taking the life of one of the infants.
Now numbering four offspring, the adults were determined not to allow anything else to happen to the remainder of their seed. They traveled together and all hunts were performed as a family group. And it was time to hunt once again.
Their options limited, the pack wandered close alongside a river. Plenty of prey items presented themselves if only the pack were strong enough to take advantage of it. As such, the creatures that did see the pack paid little to no heed to the passing carnivores. Purely by numbers, they could overwhelm the hunters. Instead, they watched calmly and sensed no danger.
At last, an opportunity presented itself. A young hadrosaur had separated itself from the rest of the herd. Immediately, the pack went into stealth mode. The adults looked at the infants, giving silent instructions. At once, three of the small Deinonychus departed while the youngest remained with its parents. The infants had their job, and the adults had theirs. Moreover, the success or failure of the hunt would depend on the actions of the youngest.
It was not a position to be taken lightly, and the adults did not trust the other three infants with such a task. The youngest, though small, had proven itself capable of following instructions and following through with no distraction. Such discipline was vital to the success of the hunt.
The infants positioned themselves carefully behind an outcropping, lined themselves with their prey, and charged. The hadrosaur honked in surprise and turned toward its herd, only to find the path blocked by the two larger snarling raptors. Primal instinct drove the creature to run away from danger, and so it ran without thinking.
The panicked cries of the hadrosaur had alerted the rest of its herd. Some began to flee while those closest to the youngster had the urge to protect their offspring. They faced the menace and saw the youngster was already being chased. They were about to pursue when the youngest of the raptor infants made his presence known.
Shrieking, the infant leapt from the foliage and landed on the nearest hadrosaur. His tiny claws could barely penetrate the hide of the larger creature, but his duty was not to kill, but to distract. If the protective herd members made it to their youngster then the hunt would fail. Therefore, he presented them with a more direct threat. With danger immediately present, the youngster was forgotten.
A large male hadrosaur lunged with its shoulder in an attempt to crush the infant against another herd animal. The infant dodged quickly by leaping onto the creature's back and latching on hard. The male howled as trickles of blood emerged from the hooked flesh and the infant dug deeper. The infant knew the animals well and could feel every movement of muscle beneath its small body.
The lust for blood began to fill the infant. The thrill was too great for him to ignore. Opening his jaws, the infant lunged and bit into the hide of the hadrosaur. The creature howled again and shook its body. The infant stayed put with a grip like iron, refusing to give heed. The victim fell onto its side, the impact jarring the infant's balance but not its grip.
The force of the fall caused the infant to break three of his teeth as the flesh was torn from the victim's body. A cry from the distance alerted the infant to a successful hunt, so he removed his claws and exited the scene with haste. Its jaw ached, but the teeth would grow again.
The current threat gone, the adult hadrosaurs forgot about the lost infant of their own. Self-preservation was the greatest of instincts among them. The wounds on the male were minor and would soon heal, leaving only a scar as a remnant.
****
The day following the kill, the family of Deinonychus had to leave once again. They had eaten their fill of fresh meat, but the smell of death always brought the scavengers. Small at first and then, inevitably, the larger creatures found their way. It was not worth the risk to defend their kill.
Still following the stream, the family moved on. There soon came to be a new smell in the air. It was something never before encountered by the adults. Strange and messy, it smelled like a mammal but unlike anything they were familiar. Switching to caution, the group slowed their pace and switched to a silent stalking.
The adults silently instructed the infants to conceal themselves. All but the youngest followed the instructions. The adults did not scold the youngling for disobeying, having proven itself to be stealthy enough in the past, but instructed it to remain close. Together the trio advanced, wary of what these new creatures may present.
Splashing about in the stream ahead were the creatures. Slightly taller than the raptors, they had smooth pink skin and a crown of fur on top of their heads. Using complex vocalizations, they appeared to communicate with each other. They appeared to be playing with one another, but in a manner yet unseen by the raptors.
Too strange for the raptor mind to comprehend, and with no apparent danger, the trio retreated into the shadows. Gathering the remainder of their family, they progressed farther along the stream, only now keeping their distance from the source of water. It was unknown whether these new creatures would present a danger should they discover the family, or if they would present a future source of food. The pack chose to avoid them for now. If only they knew that, unlike saurians, human individuals were quite different from one another.
For two days, the family followed the stream, remaining out of sight of the source of water but always keeping it within hearing distance. At length, they arrived at a clearing that overlooked a beautiful lake. A few small creatures drank at the water's edge and the pack decided to rest for a while. Having been sustained with small prey they were satisfied but w
ould soon need to hunt again. Now was the chance to regain their needed strength.
The infants joined their parents basking in the warm sunlight while the youngest observed his surroundings. A dragonfly caught his attention and he began stalking. Though the food value would amount to little more than a snack, the challenge is what drove the infant further. Fast and unpredictable, dragonflies proved to be fitting to test the infant's skill.
The insect flew overhead and the infant leapt upward, catching the prey in his jaws. With a few snaps, he swallowed the insect before seeking more of the amusing creatures. He found them behind some plants near the water's edge. Stealthily he approached, knowing that any wrong movement would cause the dragonflies to immediately take flight and move across the open water where the infant would be unable to follow.
Preparing himself, the infant saw two dragonflies sitting next to each other. Could he get two at once? It would certainly benefit his skills. Moreover, it would be a true test. The infant reveled in such challenges to his abilities.
Narrowing his eyes and taking aim the infant was about to charge when suddenly the sound of thunder filled the air. Jerking his head around the infant saw it was a clear sky. How could there be thunder? Twice more the thunder sounded, then finally a third blast. Looking back, the infant saw two humans laughing and cheering. His parents and siblings lay at the feet of their attackers, unmoving.
Rage filled the infant and it charged headlong toward the invaders. Approaching them, he shrieked his fury and leapt, striking one human across the face. The human fell, shouting in surprise and pain. The infant turned to face his adversary when another sound of thunder rang through the air and the ground beside the infant exploded.
Dinoworld Scarface Origins Page 1
