Just as humans pursue spiritual fulfillment once their material needs are met, dinosaurs, upon eating and drinking their fill, will also seek out a few personal "hobbies."
It was just that the Carlo family's list of "hobbies" seemed a bit too extravagant.
Collecting bones, running amok in the dead of night instead of sleeping, and trailing behind family members all day to mimic their movements was one thing.
But how on earth did you three start messing with other dinosaurs?!
A bizarre spectacle unfolded on the clearing by the lakeshore. The herbivores that had just finished drinking didn't immediately leave to forage for their favorite vegetation; instead, they squatted right where they were, turning their collective gaze toward the center of the clearing.
Three Giganotosaurus individuals, each measuring well over 13 meters in length, were circling a 9-meter-long Afrovenator, leaving the latter thoroughly dizzy, disoriented, and utterly at a loss.
They had wanted to do this for a long time. Back when they were at the large lake, the three of them had schemed to go out and torment other dinosaurs together, but the disaster had struck too quickly, forcing their plans onto the back burner.
Well... if they had actually gone through with it, the first victim would probably have been a Ceratosaurus.
*Sniffing sounds*
Karl drifted a fraction closer, wanting to lock down the Afrovenator's scent so it would be easier to track down next time.
"Roar!"
But this absolutely terrified the Afrovenator. In a frantic panic, it let out a high-pitched, threatening roar directed right at Karl.
Good grief, you're already sniffing me? Is eating me the next step?
Facing the bristling Afrovenator, the three Giganotosaurus individuals displayed an unexpected amount of patience. Perhaps because they knew the creature wouldn't dare harm them, no matter how much it threw a tantrum, it was completely useless~
"Roar…"
His arms are so short.
"Roar…"
Your arms are obviously short too.
Kafka lowered her head to inspect the Afrovenator's arms and huffed in commentary, only to be refuted by Katyusha.
Huh? Are my arms short?
Kafka straightened her posture, looking down at the two tiny, short arms against her chest. With a conscious twitch of her muscles, she set them swinging left and right.
Compared to the "agile" forelimbs of Carnotaurus One, her display looked incredibly dorky, yet it successfully captured the curiosity of the other giants.
Katyusha emulated Kafka, raising her torso and clumsily swinging her arms in imitation. Karl was the last to process what was happening, but he immediately got the hang of it, swinging his arms even faster than Kafka.
Afrovenator: ???
What kind of bizarre ritual is this? Sh... Should I be swinging along too?
The Afrovenator was just about to lift its torso when it suddenly realized that exposing its vulnerable underbelly in front of a pack of dangerous behemoths was sheer stupidity. It snapped its body back into a defensive posture.
That was close, I almost fell for it. These guys are massive and smart, absolutely terrifying.
…
Huh... this is actually pretty fun.
Carlo had cut his afternoon nap short the moment he heard Katyusha's call, and he had been stealthily watching the three youngsters by the nearby lake.
He also mimicked the trio's movements, flexing his arms, though he kept his torso low to avoid exposing himself.
Two robust arms bore three claws as sharp as a scimitar, curving inward. Even if they couldn't match the raw devastation of Carlo's jaws, the damage those three fingers could inflict would easily surpass a Therizinosaurus.
Hiss... you can actually use them like that?
Carlo had never used, let alone paid much attention to, his own arms. After all, he solved the vast majority of his problems with his head and teeth. Looking at it now, perhaps his forelimbs weren't just decorative ornaments?
"Aunnng—"
A resonant, high-pitched trumpet echoed from the opposite side of the lake. Carlo, who was still practicing his arm wiggles, turned to look. However, before he could spot the source of the sound, he first caught sight of Stego bro, who was staring at him with an expression of profound pity.
That look was as if to say, "How are you getting dumber by the day? Now you've resorted to playing with your hands."
Carlo selectively ignored Stego bro and cast his gaze toward the source of the noise, though his arm-wiggling antics did grind to a halt.
"Aunnng—"
It was the juvenile Dreadnoughtus hatchlings.
There was still plenty of space along the banks of the massive artificial lake, and they had chosen a relatively open area to settle down.
Why would the young Dreadnoughtus come here?
Among the herd of hatchlings, the slightly pale body of Little White was exceptionally conspicuous. Carlo felt a pang of confusion, as he wasn't entirely familiar with the behavioral instincts of Dreadnoughtus.
It was true that young Dreadnoughtus would seek out their mother's herd, but they wouldn't be integrated into it. Or rather, they weren't qualified to join yet.
They were still far too small. The adult Dreadnoughtus likely enforced this to prevent tragic accidents where they might inadvertently trample their own offspring to death. All newly hatched sauropods had to survive on their own until they reached adolescence, which was precisely why they had migrated to this spot.
Carlo paced slowly toward the juvenile Dreadnoughtus that had already bedded down. His massive footfalls gave the little ones quite a scare.
"Eeng!"
Carlo's arrival was met with an enthusiastic welcome from Little White. It still remembered this kind dinosaur that had shielded it from the blistering sun.
"Roar…"
Carlo rumbled a soft reply, but the juvenile Dreadnoughtus didn't display any signs of stupor or paralyzing fear.
How bizarre. I'm literally an apex predator.
Carlo suddenly began to question if there was something wrong with himself. Why did so many herbivores seem completely unfazed whenever they saw him?
But at this moment, there was a more pressing matter at hand—he needed to investigate if the adult Dreadnoughtus herd had run into any trouble.
"Aunnng!"
Big brother, things are bad!
"Aunnng?"
What is it? Did the predators come back?
"Aunnng!"
Yes... wait, no, a dinosaur has gone berserk!
Within the Dreadnoughtus Oasis, Dread One and Dread Two were living out their retirement days exactly as they always did—never fighting, keeping a low profile, and staying out of trouble. Counting the years, they could well be considered the revered elders of the herd.
"Aunnng?"
Another dinosaur going mad?
Dread One's originally relaxed expression turned grave, though he wasn't entirely surprised by the revelation that a dinosaur could go berserk.
Their White King was a powerful and tolerant sovereign, an existence revered by every Dreadnoughtus. But this also meant all male members of the herd had to come to terms with a harsh reality:
Unless the White King died, they would never become king in their lifetimes.
This was undoubtedly a devastating blow to dinosaurs whose sole life purpose was "victory, then breeding." For those who couldn't accept this reality and adapt, their only options were either to exile themselves or go completely mad.
A white king could throw down any challenger, but he couldn't stop a titan running completely amok.
Dread One and Dread Two displayed a rare burst of urgency, shifting their massive legs into quick, short strides as they rushed back toward the heart of the herd as fast as their bodies could carry them.
"Aunnng?"
Dread One abruptly halted his movements. Lifting his towering neck high above the panicked, chaotic herd, he spotted a familiar, yet entirely unwelcome, silhouette.
A walking predator was enough to put any dinosaur on high alert. What about a sprinting predator?
It was enough to frighten a dinosaur out of its wits.
Carlo noticed the chaotic upheaval within the Dreadnoughtus herd and accelerated his pace, wanting to uncover the source of the anomaly.
The figure of the White King was rapidly pursuing a Dreadnoughtus that was roughly his size but lacked his massive, heavy build. The pursuit looked incredibly urgent.
The smaller Dreadnoughtus scrambled to get out of the way, while those of comparable size didn't dare step in to intervene.
Internal herd conflict?
This sort of situation was rather rare. Carlo's sprint slowed to a walk. He rumbled a gentle growl to greet a Dreadnoughtus that had retreated to his side, one that hadn't even realized he was standing there yet, and then sauntered casually forward.
As long as humans weren't showing up to hunt, everything else was easy to handle.
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