Agni | A Crown Of Thorns

A young styracosaurus stood apart from the herd with his nose down in the ferns. He was old and big enough for his mother not to constantly shadow him and that freedom had long made him brave. Brave enough he left the protective circle of muscle. Past the sight of the lead bull and past his mother’s protective wisdom to search for his favorite young, green fernheads. He used his nasal horn to shove through the undergrowth, bullying his way to the sweetest and best of treats. He traveled following his nose, winding through dense underbrush and past towering trees. He hunted for so long that by the time he cared to raise his head he was far from the open clearing the herd had been in and was now in the depths of the jungle. 

The bravery of youth made him unconcerned about how far he’d gone and how unsafe his surroundings could potentially be. As the foliage grew denser the world grew darker around him. Sunlight was blotted out by the heavy crowns of the trees that had reached their fingers up as high as they possibly could to choke out their neighbors. In this faux twilight the world became ethereal, the sounds more poignant and every motion in the corner of his eye more alluring. 

The small bull bellowed out a deep breath, listening as the insect life fell silent around him for a heartbeat before starting up again. A new excitement entered his trot as he began to explore the new, strange world around him. It wasn’t just a regular jungle, not in the way he was used to seeing it, but the more he looked the more strange and unusual plants he was spotting. New plants meant new food. Agni was already imagining what all this new flora would taste like. He couldn’t stop himself from tearing vines from around trees, uprooting palms, and scarfing down as much as he could fit in his mouth- that was until the sharp end of a thorn pierced the soft meat of the roof of his mouth. 

A wretched, squeaking honk startled birds from the trees. Agni shook his head viciously, trying to dislodge the offending thorn from his soft palate. A small splatter of blood followed the vine as he spat it out. What horrid things were these? He could taste the foul iron of his own blood as he looked over the vines. They were wretched things, covered in bristling, threatening thorns. The more he looked around the more of these vicious plants he noticed. The damn thing had bitten him back. Since when were plants able to fight? More and more Agni followed the cruel, twisting vines the more of the plants he discovered. They twisted around the jungle trees, reaching up high and strangling the life from the trees. These weren’t plants the young styracosaurus realized, they were predators. 

He planted his feet in the ground, shaking his frilled head. His horns weren’t completely mature, but they were big enough. He blew hot air from his nose like he saw the big bulls do before when meat-eaters came creeping around. With his beak he grabbed a long vine and began to tear it from its seat around the thick trunk of a magnolia. With all of his weight he managed to rip the one vine down and with the confidence addled by success he began to unseat every single thorny, invasive vine he could find. He was nearly giddy with the wreckage he was creating, with each green tendril that came whipping down to the forest floor the more eager he was to find the next and the next and the next…

The styracosaurus suddenly burst through the thicket of the wilds where the forest thinned dramatically. Sunlight assaulted his eyes, causing him to skid to a halt. He had to blink back the watering of his eyes as they adjusted. He snorted angrily, shaking his big head once more. He turned slowly, looking back to where he had just come. He could see the trail he left behind from tearing and bulldozing his way through the forest. A spark of pride warmed in his chest. But his gleaming delight stuttered as he heard scuffing and chirping that was unlike any small bird he’d heard before. 

Easily distracted he turned to follow the noise, but what he stumbled upon was like nothing he’d ever seen before in his young life. Agni had seen birds of all sizes before but these were… something else. Long necked and long legged, they were gangly things that only managed to be taller than him because of those lanky features. What was even more confusing than their appearance was what they were doing. 

The trio of birds were digging holes and planting seeds of all things. They left trails of dirt mounds everywhere they went and in the distance of the clearing Agni could see little sprouts of vicious vines poking up. They were responsible for the biting plants. His tongue pressed to the hole in his palate and the anger of the wound rekindled in his chest. Once more the young bull bellowed, kicking up dirt as he trotted closer to the weird birds. The closest one’s head popped up- a poor thing called Sombra by its friends. It was a murky grey and striped thing that quickly skittered away from him, much to Agni’s delight. His feet kicked up as he hopped into a quick gallop after the bird, his head lowered into a threatening sight of muscle and horns. 

The bird- an oviraptor, though he did not know that word- was much faster than him on those long, thin legs. It easily outpaced him but the adolescent bull was persistent. He barreled over mounds of dirt, kicking and scattering them apart with his horns. It was that that caught the attention of the two other raptors. The darkest of the trio, nearly black and spotted, was the angriest of the trio. It took chase after Agni, howling and chittering dissent as it chased the bull in turn. 

It would have been comedic to see, had Agni not taken being chased as a threat- the only things he knew of that chased were predators and he knew exactly how he was supposed to react to predators. Agni slammed on the brakes, forgetting his cowering target to spin on the hunter. He was in a blind fury now, turning to dog after this new oviraptor instead. While the last raptor, Khaṭika, turned to run beyond Agni’s range- another grey strip and spotted thing that was a blur in the corner of his eye- the dark one didn’t seem the least bit scared.

This raptor, Deimos, hissed while standing its ground, its feathers fluffed up in a threat. Agni, a youth-bolstered, over-confident bull, didn’t know well enough if he was actually in any real danger. His charge slowed to a stop and he took to the tactic of bellowing and kicking up dust. Deimos was… unimpressed to say the least. The oviraptor grew larger as his feathers frayed out as he hissed and barked at the styracosaurus. Even when Agni bluffed a charge a second time the bird barely flinched- and this time he blew a deep blow to his confidence and pride.

A heavy foot kicked out, smacking him hard right between his eyes. It hurt, more than Agni assumed the raptor would have ever been able to do. He wasn’t bleeding, but his conviction was shaken. He shuffled a step back and the birds took it as an opening. Deimos charged and Agni couldn’t hold his ground anymore. He turned to run for the path he had formed in the jungle. Though the birds stopped at the edge of the trees- kicking the young bull to death wasn’t the goal, now that his pride was shattered and he would be too ashamed to turn around and come back. 

In the safety of the forest Agni shook off his shame, ramming his massive horned head into a young tree to reassure himself that he wasn’t a complete coward. He took his rage out on more vines, more young trees, and anything vaguely thorny that he came across as he went running back for his mother’s protection.