[Trade] Reluctant Allies.

“This is pointless, old man, nothing has come through in hours!” Reaper hissed, his red eyes narrowing as he whirled on the feathered green and black Cryolophosaurus beside him.

“Quiet. Nothing has come through because you are being too loud.” Desolator growled lowly in return, crouched low within the underbrush they had hidden themselves in.

 It was true, the night was dark and the forest around them had been silent for several hours now. But Desolator knew better than to leave their cover, he’d been here a great many times and he knew the local herd's patterns better than the red-eyed cryo he had temporarily allied himself with. Soon, they would have their meal, soon, he would not have to listen to the incessant whining of his bloodthirsty ally. Patience was something Reaper would do well to learn and Desolator would not hesitate to put the spiked cryo in his place, should he need to.

Reaper snarled, his tail flicking wildly against the ground as irritation flared in his chest. Just who did this blind fool think he was? As much as he’d rather snap at the feathered cryo and tear him to pieces, the promise of a larger meal was enough to temporarily calm him. Beneath the cover of overgrown ferns, bushes, or other debris, the darkness still did little to hide Reaper. The sharp contrast of his pale white face and light brown skin did not blend with the foliage as well as Desolator’s green and black feathers did. 

Despite all his complaints and growls, Reaper waited. Patience had never been his strongest trait, but perhaps for a meal, he could learn for just a single night.

Desolator perked up abruptly. He tilted his head in one direction, straining to listen in to the sound of the forest, tuning out the croaking of the frogs and the song of the crickets.

There.

Thump, thump, thump.

Footsteps, heavy ones, and many of them from the sound of things.

“Prepare yourself,” Desolator murmured, focusing his weight on his legs as he prepared to lunge forward.

Reaper threw him a glare, though he knew Desolator couldn’t even see his annoyance. “You’re the distraction, just don’t screw this up for me.” He hissed quietly, tapping a claw against the dirt as he focused his attention on the approaching herd.

The footsteps grew ever closer and soon enough, Reaper could spot a couple of different herbivores approaching their ambush spot. A mixture of Styracosaurus, Parasaurolophus, and Pachycephalosaurus.

“There’s a para in the far back, it has a recent injury. It’s limping.” Desolator spoke gruffly, turning his head in Reaper’s direction.

How in the world..? Reaper brushed off his surprise, huffing in reply. “…Ugh, you’re creepy.” He said, keeping his voice quiet as he narrowed his eyes, peering into the herd. Desolator was right, Reaper could smell the blood on one of the herbivores. He scanned through the herd until he found it, a gray-blue female para that was on the smaller side—younger than her herdmates, if Reaper had to guess. She had quite an interesting mix of colors, a dark gray-blue that covered her limbs and stretched across her spine in pinstripes, alongside some weird peach color coating her underbelly. A unique parasaur, Reaper could admit that much, though he wondered if she’d taste any better than the usual herbivores. Probably not, he decided.

Reaper lay in wait, the seconds drawing on into minutes as the herd slowly strolled past them. His claws itched to sink into their prey, he could already taste the blood on his tongue and it fueled his anticipation and excitement.

Just as the herd began to dwindle and trail off into the forest, Desolator sprung forward, snapping his jaws wildly and startling the herd. A wonderful song of terrified honks and bellows filled the night air and Reaper watched as the herd began to scatter. The injured parasaur, their target, had stumbled as expected, falling behind her herd with a deafening bellow of fear.

Reaper rushed forward, giving chase to the fleeing pinstriped para with a haunting, feral cackle. His teeth sank into the flesh of the para’s hind leg, tearing away at a barely healed wound and significantly slowing the large hadrosaur. Desolator soon joined him, snapping and tearing at whatever he could reach. Together, they began to wear down the para, forcing her to a stop in an open clearing. She honked and bellowed loudly at them, rearing up onto her hind legs with visible difficulty. Soon they would have their well-earned meal—but they both knew a desperate herbivore was all the more dangerous, they had to watch themselves.

Sharp hooves struck out at them repeatedly, catching even Desolator despite his best efforts to evade them. The eyeless cryo was experienced and had hunted many before, however even his abilities had their limits when it came to a direct confrontation. He’d unfortunately have to rely on Reaper to bring the para to the ground before he could rejoin the fight. Still, he circled alongside the spiked cryo, providing adequate intimidation with hisses and mock charges.

Reaper had noted the feathered cryo beginning to take a backseat in the hunt, irritation once more bubbling beneath his skin. He growled, focusing his frustrations on the para as he once more launched forward, snapping his maw around her throat and doing his best to avoid getting kicked while he tried to bring the para onto the ground.

With Reaper’s jaws firmly around her throat and his teeth sinking into her flesh, the para began to stumble, struggling to keep herself upright. Soon enough, her legs began to fail her, collapsing beneath her own weight as her vision grew dark. At last, Desolator took his cue to rejoin the hunt, albeit struggling for the briefest moment to figure out where to bite, he tore into the para’s front leg. With this, they could keep the para right where they wanted her, unable to escape her fate. The gray-blue para soon succumbed to her wounds and a lack of oxygen, Reaper’s steady grasp around her throat having cut off her supply of air. At last, the fight was over, and with minimal injury to Reaper and Desolator.

Aside from a handful of scrapes and cuts, Reaper and Desolator had come out of a difficult hunt unharmed. Reaper released his grasp on the para, shaking the adrenaline off as he settled on the ground beside their kill to catch his breath. “Tch. You weren’t much help at all.” He growled as he turned his gaze on Desolator.

“If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t have this meal at all. Be grateful.” Desolator hissed, the feathers at the back of his neck rising ever so slightly with his annoyance. He stalked around their meal, nosing along the skin until he found the perfect spot to dig in—somewhere along the stomach.

Reaper rolled his eyes and scoffed, watching the green cryo take an absurdly large bite of the carcass. “I could have completed this hunt entirely on my own. Ambushing barely made a difference.” He argued, shifting back onto his feet and shoving Desolator aside to get his fill of the meal.

Desolator did not appreciate being shoved, of course. He snapped at the spiked cryo, his teeth tearing at Reaper’s snout and causing the cryo to jump back with a sharp hiss. 

They may have taken the parasaur down together, but they were not friends, Desolator would make sure that Reaper understood that.