[Trade] Food Fight

"What the hell is that?" Kisse hissed at her companions.

"Big bird," Roswell said sarcastically. In truth, it was a decently sized Tropeognathus, dark gray in colour with flashes of white across its beak and wing tips. It was also currently hunched over the raptors' kill and gulping down chunks of meat as fast as it could.

"Let's chase it off, that kill is ours," Kisse growled. Bandit stuck her forearm in front of her chest to stop her from launching straight into an attack.

"It flies and it's huge, use some common sense," she said, quietly but firmly. 

"We'll spread out and attack at the same time," Roswell proposed, "Pincer manoeuvre, overwhelm her and force her to panic." She had gotten a lot more strategic as she had grown. She still mostly applied this strategic mind to hunting imaginary human tracks through the forest but it still had its uses on hunts and defending their territory.

"Good idea. Kisse, stay here, Ros, go north of her, I'll go west, where there isn't a lot of cover. She should see me first, when she notices me that's your time to strike. She'll be distracted and you'll get the jump on her," Bandit said confidently. She was no slouch at strategy either and her cool head under pressure made the twins rely on her more often than not in high stakes situations. Roswell disappeared into the bushes as Kisse hunkered down, her eyes never leaving the Trope still choking back their kill. Bandit hurried into the undergrowth too, relying on the heavy cover to keep her out of sight until she reached the edge of the clearing. She stopped just before breaking cover, sticking her head out just slightly to see the Trope with its back to her, perfect positioning. She waited for a moment to allow Roswell time to get into position but she couldn't wait too long, lest the Trope devour the entire carcass.  Bandit wasn't fond of challenging other dinosaurs for food, but a Tropeognathus wasn't too big, and even if it was a serious threat to an adolescent Utahraptor, there were three of them.

Bandit stepped out from the bushes, interrupting the Trope with a loud clearing of her throat. 

"Enjoying youself?" she asked, keeping her tone as cool and unaffected as possible. The grey Trope's head jerked up, and it turned awkwardly on its spindly wings to face her. As it did, the twins charged from their cover and lunged at the flier. With a startled shriek, the Trope tried to take to the air but Kisse had al;ready latched on to its dangling limbs, pulling it back to earth with a loud thump. Roswell joined her sister and stomped on the Trope's wings, managing to gouge a cement hole into the membrane with her claw. Bandit approached, standing at the Trope's head. "It's time for you to fuck off now," she sneered, "Girls, let her go, I think she's learned her lesson." When the twins stood back, the Trope decided to make it known that she, very clearly, had not learned her lesson. Her beak snapped shut on Bandit's arm and within seconds the adolescent Utahraptor was airborne. The hole in her wing made gaining height difficult, but the Trope still carried her forward and allowed the tree branches to beat against the raptor's body. Bandit tried to twist her body and snap at her captor, but she was just barely out of range to deliver an effective bite. She looked down at the forest floor rushing past her and saw the faint brown and white blurs of her friends running after her. The Trope was already losing steam, her flapping more laboured and their height gradually dipping. Bandit tried again to bite, but this time she managed to throw them enough off course to send them both smack into a tree. She could see the grey shape tumbling next to her, but she was violently snapped to reality by a cracking sound as she hit the ground. Pain shot through her arm like electricity, jolting her entire shoulder and making her screech out loud. The sound drew her companions straight to her, the pair running to her side.

"Bandit," Kisse gasped, "Are you okay?" Bandit couldn't warn them in time, seeing the stunned but mobile Trope rising behind the other raptors. It lunged at them, seizing the back of Roswell's neck, any more force and it could have hit bone, but Ros's instinctive reaction to pull her neck into her shoulders managed to pull the teeth of the beak looser. The Trope yanked backwards, lifting Ros clean off the ground and starting to throttle her. Enraged by the attack on her sister, Kisse screeched and grabbed hold of the nearest wing and shook her head like she was killing a rat. The sinew and membrane tore under her teeth, shredding the wing to the point of uselessness. The Trope tried to let go, but it had already put itself at a disadvantage by trying to grab the spotted raptor. Kisse attacked again, aiming for the neck this time and making contact. She twisted her head after clamping down, tearing the throat of the Trope and sending it stumbling backwards, gasping. It turned to flee and Kisse redirected her attention into tending to her companions. Roswell was fine, just stunned from being dropped but Bandit was still cradling her arm to her chest. 

“Oh, Bandit,” Kiss tutted sympathetically, “That might be broken.” The black raptor flinched away from the other’s searching touch and looked back to the Trope instead. She watched as it limped away, struggling to make any ground before finally collapsing on the forest floor, crimson seeping out from below it.

“I’ll be alright, let’s just find the craftsmaster and see if he has anything for it,” Bandit figuratively shrugged it off, considering doing it literally might aggravate the break even more. 

“Take it easy,” Roswell told her, “Nice and steady, anything tries to come for us while you hobble your way there and we’ll kick its ass.” She was clearly riding the high of their victory, but Bandit grinned at her nonetheless, her excitement contagious.