Agitating Angiosperms

Spring took a long time to reach the highlands and Brook still had no idea what was coming his way.  He had managed to lose his mother from his line of sight and now he had no one to shadow and learn from. She had demanded that her offspring disperse from the nest weeks ago but he had been following her in secret to try and see how an adult survived in land like this. With her gone he had no real sense of direction and found himself descending from the highlands as the spring warmth began to roll in. He had a vague idea of a plan in his head, keep walking until he found food, and if he couldn't find food before nightfall he would dig a burrow and try again the next morning. His brilliant strategy had worked so far, he had found a half rotted raccoon that didn't even taste all that bad, and he only threw up a little afterwards. He repeated this cycle for most of his week alone until one fateful night where he had walked as far as his legs could carry him and hid below ground long after the sun had set.  When he dug himself out of his burrow the next morning, his world had changed overnight.

The white and brown surroundings were gone, he had been so sure they had been the same when he started digging but it had been dark. Had he wandered this far through the night and taken refuge in an unfamiliar place? He spun on the spot, his snout in the air taking in the overwhelming abundance of smells. Something powdery floated into his nostrils and he followed its smell to a blooming patch of flowers. What were these brightly coloured things? Bright colours meant poison, or venom, and were to be avoided at all costs. But the plants stood still and non-threatening, their pleasant scent beckoning him closer to investigate. He decided to take a chance and toddled into the stretch of flowers. He leaned in to bright yellow bloom and eyed it, his pale blue eyes narrowing in suspicion as the flower continued to innocently sit there. He opened his mouth and nibbled gingerly on the petals, pulling back when he found the typical inedible plant taste that stained his tongue whenever he tried to scavenge vegetation. He followed the smell again, sticking his nout deeper into the centre of the flower and inhaling. He felt a sharp tickle in his nose, a brief watering of the eyes before-

ACHOO!

Brook stumbled back from the force of his own sneeze. He stayed sat on his haunches for a moment, startled at the noise that had just escaped his mouth, or perhaps it escaped his nose? He rose to stand carefully, scowling at the flowers which remained cheerfully swaying the breeze like they hadn't just assaulted his senses. Brook sneezed again, clearing more pollen from his throat and shaking his head hard enough that it made his crest flap. They smelled nice, but tasted awful and made him sneeze. He still didn't understand what they were exactly but he knew he hated them with his entire heart. He used his arms to swipe at his running nose and smacked the ground with his tail as he left.

Brook saw nothing but green grass, half-covered trees and more wretched flowers as he continued further down the hill. He stopped when he noticed another dinosaur, something with a long neck, reaching into the trees to snatch small round leaves from their branches. He wrinkled his nose at the thought, the time he had tried eating the tree needles a few days ago was still burned into his hatchling brain. As if the world wasn't confusing enough, he began to hear a low hum. He looked around for the source and his stomach sank when he realised it was coming from more flowers. These were taller and bristly, their sharp spines clearly visible even with the distraction of their bright purple blossoms. The humming came from the flowers themselves, a fat black and yellow fly buzzing every time it flew and stopped when it landed on the purple spots. Brook stepped a little closer to get a better look at it and saw its soft fluff up close, it looked comfortable enough to line a nest with. With another tentative step, he recoiled in pain as he foot encountered something sharp, wiggling and buzzing. He raised his leg in time to watch another yellow and black fly pull its stinger from his foot and struggling away into the grass. He tried to set it back down but a pain shot up through his leg as he tried. He flopped back onto his hind end and fought the urge to scream and stomp and bellow his little lungs out. He looked up at the remaining fly, still rummaging in the bristle of the purple flower. He hated flowers, he hated flies, he hated the new green and he hated this new place. When his foot stopped throbbing as badly he stood with intent and turned back the way he came. The highlands were cold but they were still nicer than this awful place. He would simply walk until he found snow again and crush as many flowers as he could on his way there .Spring had not made the best first impression on the young cryolophosaurus and he was convinced nothing would change his mind, preferring to chase Winter into the mountains.