I am a Spinosaurus.
No... with an opening line this familiar, things usually don't end well for the narrator, so I'd better skip the introduction.
Sound of roaring waves.
A few days ago, I watched a cinematic clash between a Mapusaurus and a Giganotosaurus, which was utterly spectacular, only for my incompetent companion to fail at catching fish, causing me to miss half the match.
A Spinosaurus's land speed is not fast; you could even call it sluggish. This kind of locomotion easily fools people into thinking they are easygoing and Zen-like, but nothing could be further from the truth.
The moment they enter the water, however, you quickly learn what a species of entirely hot-tempered brawlers looks like.
Typical Spinosaurus mindset:
"You've got the guts, come down into the water and fight me."
"You've got the guts, wait for me to get into the water first."
Ahem... Anyway, this particular Spinosaurus was currently nursing a bellyful of pent-up frustration from missing out on the gossip, and he was looking for something, anything, to unleash it on.
As for why he didn't go beat up his hot-headed peers? Because they were also nursing bellyfuls of pent-up frustration from failing to catch fish.
So... it was better to go check if there was any fun to be had.
Swish—
The Spinosaurus whipped his body from side to side, swimming swiftly through the water with only the upper half of his sail breaking the surface, striking boundless terror into the hearts of the small animals drinking along the riverbank.
His movements were wide and forceful, kicking up substantial wakes as his fan-shaped tail provided powerful propulsion, enabling him to dash through the water at high speed.
While calling it a stretch might be an exaggeration, he could genuinely match the swimming speed of a Sarcosuchus at full momentum.
Hm?
Ahead of him, a school of fish suddenly scattered, displaying clear panic and hesitation upon spotting the Spinosaurus's silhouette before choosing to swim around him instead.
What happened?
A Spinosaurus's perception of underwater movement isn't quite as sharp as a crocodile's, but fortunately, his survival instincts were acute enough. He immediately dove deeper, tucking his dorsal sail completely beneath the surface.
What on earth could scare a school of fish into such a blind panic? In his experience, only that hot-headed peer of his, who went crazy in the water out of frustration over failing to catch fish, could pull off something like that, but wasn't that guy somewhere else?
Thud... Thud...
The sound of something slicing through the water echoed ahead, accompanied by muffled concussive impacts rippling through the depths, muffled, yet immensely powerful even through the water.
What the hell?!
In the slightly turbid depths, a massive pillar abruptly materialized. Before the Spinosaurus could even react, the pillar shot upward, vanishing from his field of view.
Splash—
Ripples broke across the surface as a colossal dark silhouette surfaced amidst the glistening water, and the massive pillar came crashing down right behind it.
The Spinosaurus suddenly realized that this thing wasn't a pillar at all, it was a creature's leg! A leg so massive it could stand firmly on the bottom of a river channel deep enough for him to swim through!
Gah! Time to get the hell out of here!
The Spinosaurus executed a lightning-fast pivot underwater, his long, flattened yet graceful tail brushing past Carlo's lower leg before kicking off with explosive force!
Feeling the contact against his lower leg, Carlo lowered his head to check the water surface.
Was there something there just now?
His sense of smell couldn't penetrate the barrier of water, so he hadn't noticed the Spinosaurus... but he did happen to notice another peculiar fellow.
"Aunnng!"
Was that a... blind Therizinosaurus?
The creature stood near the riverbank, frantically flailing its arms while letting out low-pitched bellows, seemingly threatening any intruder daring to approach its territory.
Is this guy always this brave?
Well, being blind, it could only judge an opponent's size and position through sound. Robbed of all sight, it harbored zero fear toward massive predators; hence, acting with utter, unadulterated overconfidence, its rule of thumb was simple: if you make a sound, you're getting beaten up.
This time, however, because Carlo was wading through the river channel, his footsteps were muted and low, causing the Therizinosaurus to severely misjudge his size. It had officially kicked a massive iron plate.
Carlo lowered his head, watching the creature relentlessly pulverize empty air. Struck by a sudden wave of amusement, he reached out and gave the creature a pat with an arm almost the size of a Triceratops.
The force was very light, or at least, that's what he thought. So why did the Therizinosaurus just collapse? Was it staging a deliberate fall?
Hm? Why did my bro go quiet?
To manage a pat with his hand, Carlo had shoved most of his massive body up onto the bank. Now, straightening his posture, he realized the Therizinosaurus was sprawled flat on the ground with its belly rising and falling in slow rhythms, evidently knocked out cold.
As luck would have it, there happened to be a piece of white cloth right here.
Carlo reached out and tore a parachute he had spotted earlier from a nearby tree, yes, he'd noticed it a while ago, but knocking the guy out really had been an accident.
Kid, have a safe journey.
With utmost gentleness, he draped the white cloth over the unconscious Therizinosaurus to keep it from catching a chill. Surely, it would be deeply grateful to him.
Having performed his good deed for the day, Carlo decided not to follow the river any further and hauled himself ashore.
The trunks of sturdy, thick red pines interspersed with several parasol trees immediately surrounded him. Yet, framed against his colossal physique, they looked no different from ordinary, tender saplings.
The slender, sharp leaves at the tips of the branches displayed a vibrant, uniform green, as though someone had washed them clean and applied a fresh coat of paint.
Sound of heavy footsteps
His massive soles trod upon a layer of deep-yellow fallen leaves that had lain flat since the previous year, alongside a footprint much smaller than his own, yet identical in shape.
Unfamiliar bones rested by the roadside, and several narrow paths wound their way through the woods… well, perhaps they should be called wide trails? After all, these were paths forged by dinosaurs, not humans.
"Aok?"
An Epidexipteryx clung to a high branch, its translucent wings flashing with wondrous colors under the sunlight.
As if startled, it let out a sudden chirp and darted across the paths.
Flying low, nearly skimming the ground, it surged forward with all its might, hurtling swiftly through the woods toward a meadow dotted with a small creek, before smoothly ascending into the blue sky on an upward thermal.
Carlo's gaze followed it up into the sky. The sunlight thus spilled across his face, a bit blinding, but comforting, far more pleasant than the biting chill of the snowy mountains.
Turning his gaze back toward the meadow, familiar figures sat patiently waiting for him.
Dad and Karl sat squatting on either side of the edge of the woods. Beside the former rested several... tree trunks? Ranging in size and completeness, but undoubtedly hollowed out enough to hold things. Was Dad planning to build a house?
Karl remained his usual self, as quiet and silent as a statue, except that he seemed to have noticed the way Dad's tail was twitching restlessly out of nervous anxiety, and had started swaying his own tail in imitation.
Kafka was tucked away under a tree. She seemed to have grown a bit fatter, or rather, sturdier, though not drastically so, Carlo could confidently make that claim. And true to form, even while sitting upright, the girl had fallen asleep, presumably having worn herself out waiting for him.
Katyusha still retained her mix of innocence and impatience, wildly slapping her tail up and down against the ground, completely devoid of any rhythm. One look and you could tell she wasn't nearly as good at tail-drumming as he was.
Sound of the meadow being trampled.
"Roar…"
I'm back.
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