Let's Defend Dinner With Papa!

The trek to the arch was long enough that the little raptors were getting hungry. Larry could only hear their little tummies rumbling and Tiramisu's pointed sighs for so long before he caved.

"Alright, you're all hungry, go hunt something," he said sharply, stopping dead and feeling Foxglove walk into the back of his legs. He turned to see her huge pink eyes staring up at him, her fruit still clutched in her arms.

"We only brought food for you," she said slowly, "We don't eat fruit."

"I don't eat just fruit either, y'know?" he told them, watching their heads perk up, "I hunt and fish too, we can go on a hunting trip together if you want." The girls nodded enthusiastically and even Tiramisu's sulking didn't prevent him from perking up. "Well then, we won't make the Arch before sunset so we might as well make a detour for dinner, come along." He guided the three raptors into the long grass, knowing by scent that there was a watering hole around here somewhere. Water drew life, life meant prey, it was a simple calculation, one that even the children would know.

"The watering hole," Tiramisu said blankly, "Is that where we're going?" 

"Rude, Misu," Thistle tutted, "He's worried about the crocodile that lives there," she informed Larry. The Oviraptor's blood ran cold at the thought, he was glad he wasn't about to wander blindly into infested waters. He wondered how the little ones knew about it, did they live here? Did they have to steal gulps of water from a lake where death lurked below the surface? He couldn't imagine it.

With their destination confirmed, the Utahraptors took the lead, fanning out in a wide triangle in front of their new companion. Thistle took point, clearly the leader of their little gang when it came to most matters of tactics. Foxglove had the left and Tiramisu had the right, both scanning the grass for a target. Larry watched them, bemused, fascinated by such small yet vicious creatures, Thistle stopped dead, dropped the fruit from her claws and raised her tail above the grass. The others saw her and stopped too, creeping slowly to join back up with her. The purple raptor shot a glance back and Larry quickly crouched and took cover in the grass, shuffling towards the three of them as quiet as he could.

"Pig," she said simply, a determined grit to her voice. Larry couldn't see whatever she was referring to but the other two raptors seemed to lock on to something beyond the tall grass. "Stay," she said firmly to the Oviraptor. He didn't want to impose, so he did as he was told and watched their feathery tails disappear into the brittle savanna grass. The wait was agonising, not knowing what the hatchlings had gotten themselves into, whether he should intervene or let them find their feet. Dear great vines, was this what it was like to be a parent?

Foxglove took the lead on their hunt, Thistle was smarter but Fox always saw the best line of ambush and acted as the pack's flusher most often. She could see the bristly brown fur of the pig just ahead of her, feeling the wind in her face as it kept her scent from his nostrils. She stayed crouched in position until she saw a rustle of movement in the grass on the far side of the pig. Its head raised, turning towards the noise and giving Foxglove the opening she needed. She flung herself from cover and landed on the boar's back, kicking and clawing at it until it threw her off with a loud squeal. She was ready for it, landing on her feet and watching it charge blindly away from her. It would probably circle back to charge her but it never got the chance, Thistle was lying in wait and jumped on it, similar to what Foxglove had done but with intent. At this, the pink Utahraptor ran to join her friend and saw her brown striped packmate doing the same. With the full strength of their teamwork, the boar soon lay defeated with its throat torn open.
"We did it!" Tiramisu panted, "We have to show Larry!" The girls nodded eagerly and each took a stiff limb in their jaws to drag it back to where they had last seen their friend.

Hauling their kill was trickier than actually bringing it down, luckily their de facto guardian arrived before any unfortunate muscle tears.

“Well done everyone,” he praised them enthusiastically, “that was incredible! You're all very talented!” Tiramisu couldn't help but preen at the praise, being won over by the strange gangly raptor's parental instincts.

“We've done this for a long time, ever since we were hatched.” Foxglove nodded in agreement as she began to tear into their kill.

“We never had parents,” she elaborated, licking the blood from her lips. “Just us. I found Thistle first and then we found Misu together.” She resumed her meal, missing the look of heartbreak that crossed Larry's face. Thistle looked embarrassed by Foxglove's manners but looked longingly at the pig carcass while her stomach rumbled.

“Please, you three eat first since you were so kind and caught dinner for all of us, I can wait my turn,” the older Oviraptor assured them. It was the only signal the other two needed, descending on the pig like a pack of ravenous... Utahraptors, he supposed. He settled on the ground nearby, far enough away to avoid the splash zone of their enthusiastic feeding.

The sun was barely touching the horizon when the raptor hatchlings finished their piece, sitting back to preen. Tiramisu gestured at Larry to come join them at the pig.

“Come on Larry, your turn,” he said pleasantly, his earlier tantrum seemingly forgotten. Larry obliged, pricking his claws into the bloodied flesh and beginning his feast.

Thistle sat closest to him as he ate, so he noticed first when she tensed. The purple hatchling rose to her feet, feathers raised and her arms spread, making a fan around herself. Tiramisu noticed next, also standing up and looking where Thistle was scowling into the grass. Her cover blown, a fully grown Suchomimus rose from the ground, towering over all four of them and stripping her teeth in an unfriendly smile. 

"Not every day I see some little rats making a move on my turf, taking my kills," she said in a voice that was trying hard to appear amicable. The menace underneath wouldn't be stifled, and the three hatchlings ruffled their feathers again. They weren't sure how they'd missed this behemoth sneaking up on them, though it probably had something to do with mottled brown and sandy feathers, letting her blend into the savanna long enough to get the drop on them. "You going to pay my toll for coming through here, poaching on my territory?"

“Our kill,” Thistle growled.

“Very impressive,” the Sucho said mockingly, “I could use a snack, hand it over.”

“Ours, end of story, move on, long nose,” Tiramisu hissed.

"You're going to fight me for it? That means more of a meal for me," the Sucho said cockily. She crouched, her entire head the size of one of the raptor's bodies and hissed loudly through her long snout. One orange iris was swallowed by a slit pupil as it widened to fully take in the little menaces. She had to hold back a laugh at the pathetic display.

"We hunted it, we killed it, it's ours!" Foxglove yelled, stamping her feet at the enormous Sucho.

"Well, would you look at that, I've just finished," Larry blurted out. All four heads turned to look at him. "We must be going anyway, miles to go before we sleep and all that," he rambled, not even sure of what he was saying. He hustled over and scooped each hatchling into his arms before taking off in a full sprint across the plains.

"What the heck, Larry?" Tiramisu grumbled.

"Yeah Larry, we totally had that!" Foxglove protested, muffled from where her snout was stuffed in the crook of his elbow.

"I know you want to stand your ground children, but you must learn to pick your battles wisely. A half-eaten pig is not worth dying for," he chastised. The hatchlings complained about it but he tuned them out, solely focused on getting all four of them to safety within the confines of the flock.