God's Own Wrath

Fade ripped through and tore out the invasive plants encroaching on the edge of bask territory with powerful claws. It was... one of the only powerful parts of him left.

His was vision half-gone, his sense of smell still not fully recovered. An odd, constant ringing sound had replaced some of his hearing, present day and night and leaving him to never again experience the peace of solitude and silence or enjoy the pure sound of morning birdsong. He had never been strong, but the time it had taken him to recover from his injuries hadn’t done him any favours. It was difficult to navigate underwater when he could see only half the world at a time, and fishing had gotten exponentially more difficult. If Hyperion’s rule over the bask hadn’t ended… he wasn’t sure where that would have left him, after the night of the storm.

He certainly wouldn’t be here, shredding the fastest-spreading plant life that he’d ever encountered. Mostly they weren’t dangerous, from what he’d seen. They were vines that crawled across the earth and swallowed up whatever they were growing across in a matter of days and choked out all the other plants, and curiously shaped leaves that grew to massive proportions and shielded the ground from the sun. Neither of which seemed particularly offensive, and hadn’t been at first, until the bask began to realise the gravity of the plant’s spread.

The vines grew so quickly they were beginning to impede movement around the shipyard. Not only that, but they created habitats for venomous species of snake to get closer and closer to where the swimlings liked to play. It wasn’t so dangerous for an adult suchomimus, who had thicker scales or feathers dense enough that a snake’s fangs couldn’t pierce them, but swimlings were still susceptible to all manners of dangers. The large leaves gave shade and shelter for the utahraptors to plot ambushes from, and some grew… strangely. Unnaturally, even. The vines snaked and constricted over sleeping bodies who had to be cut free before they were suffocated. They grew thorns and teeth and reacted to touch, some producing massive fleshy leaves that snapped shut and tried to eat curious suchomimus who were just curious about what these plants were. They grew deep pitchers with sticky insides that were almost impossible for a swimling to climb out of, they grew long tendrils laden with sticky bulbs that threatened to capture and incapacitate even the strongest adult suchomimus.

The decision was made that the bask didn’t want them here, so they had to be removed. Cut back, before they swallowed the shipyard entirely. With many of the bask’s youngest members needing less supervision now, there was less for him to do as a “queen” and he’d taken it upon himself to make daily loops around the edge of the shipyard to rip out what had tried to take root overnight.

He’d heard that “oviraptors” were the cause of the green plague that spread not only around the borders of Shipyard territory, but across both of the Kiama isles. There were at least three kinds of newcomer that he'd heard of: oviraptors (utahs, but stretched), euoplocephalus (squat and stony), and iguanodons (malformed parasaurs), though he had not yet had the chance to meet any of these newcomers himself. If it was anything like the appearance and arrival of the other dinosaurs that had been released from containment and spread across the islands over the years, very little around the bask would change. The islands might become a bit more crowded, but they would stand their ground and hold their claim over this territory, just as they had since the beginning.

As… others had.

Fade paused and sighed deeply, his head bowed as he stared blankly at the ground. He was tired, suddenly. So tired. The kind of fatigue that settled deep in his bones that he never let anyone else see. It came out from time to time, when he was alone like this. It was like a fog in his head that made his limbs feel extra heavy.

Heavy, at least, until a horrific, agonised shriek ripped through the salt-scented air and tore him from his thoughts. He abandoned his self-imposed duties and raced across the shipyard to the shoreline where he’d heard the cry, others following suit. He knew the voice. Heron, one of Hyperion’s offspring he’d been charged with watching over when she was very small, and who he had more or less adopted when Hyperion proved to be just as distant a father to his children as their mother had been to them.

He dreaded what scene he would come upon for Heron to have made such a sound.

Fear gave him extra swiftness, and what he saw both horrified and enraged him. An assortment of strange dinosaurs - oviraptors, euoplos, and most importantly, what he assumed to be an iguanodon who was standing over Heron’s body, crumpled in the sand. The iguanodon - a massive grey male with scars across his chest and forelimbs - was reared up on his hind legs, presumably to finish what he had started.

Fade’s feet sank into the hot sand on the beach as he came to a stop, his one good eye blazing as he glared at the male with his jaws parted slightly and claws at the ready in an obvious threat. He uttered a growl, a low sound that rattled in his chest and hissed out from his throat. A warning.

Guerilla seemed to weigh his options for a moment, returning Fade’s glare with a calm and level one of his own. He looked Fade over. There were few dinosaurs on the surface that had been reported to rival an iguanodon in terms of size and strength, but suchomimus were a kind that came close. This one was a titan. Even as thin as Fade was, he still sported heavy weaponry. Claws, currently stained with the green blood and viscera of the plants he had been shredding, debris drying onto the keratin. Sharp, backwards-curving teeth that would make escape difficult. And he was riddled with scars. Maybe he was a capable fighter. Maybe he was just lucky. Guerilla decided that it was best to not find out, for now.

Fade mirrored Guerilla’s movements - as the iguanodon stepped back, Fade stepped forwards, wickedly curved claws and teeth still on display as another growl rumbled deep in his chest, shaking the bones of the Atlanteans present. Guerilla rumbled out his own wordless warning, and the Atlanteans started to retreat back to whatever hole they had climbed out of.

Fade’s shadow settled over Heron’s shaking form as he grew nearer. “You’re alright, little bird. I know it hurts. You’re gonna be alright, we’ll get you fixed up. You’re just fine.” His voice was soft when he spoke to her, his muzzle close so she could hear him and hopefully find some comfort, knowing that it was him and not the iguanodon that towered over her. She was safe now. He’d… he’d fix this.

Being this close confirmed what he had assumed, seeing her from afar. A gash was ripped across her body, from… her eye, down her neck and side. The eye wouldn’t recover. Guerilla had blinded his adopted daughter. He tried to keep the rage from his voice as he continued to murmur soft, comforting words to her.

The Atlanteans were retreating but he couldn’t - he couldn’t -

Rage bubbled up inside Fade, Vesuvian in nature. Heron was so young. She was innocent. She was going to bear those scars for the rest of her life. She would only see half of what the world had to offer for the rest of her life.

He couldn’t let Guerilla walk away from this without consequences.

More of the bask were coming to help Heron. He promised her he’d be with her. Everything was going to be alright. They were going to help her get back to shelter, back to safety. He’d be with her, he’d keep her safe. Nothing else was going to hurt her.

After he saw the Atlanteans off with a very, very clear message.

Fade started to walk in the direction the Atlanteans had left, then broke into a run. The sand cushioned his feet, muffling his footsteps. They had little idea that he was approaching until one of the oviraptors squawked in alarm. Guerilla started to turn just in time for Fade to swing his claws back - and sink them deep into the iguanodon’s tail, ripping him backwards and pulling Guerilla towards him with a roar that cracked through the air like thunder.

Guerilla made a sound of pained outrage. As the oviraptors started to sprint away, the iguanodon started to buck, trying to kick Fade away. It did nothing but sink Fade's claws deeper into his tail. The massive suchomimus was faster and more nimble than he appeared and Fade jerked out of the way, rending even more devasating wounds into Guerilla’s tail as he started to drag the iguanodon towards the water. Fade was accustomed to walking on sand - Guerilla was, evidently, not.

Still, the iguanodon managed to stand and turn, swinging his thumb spikes towards Fade to do some damage in return. Fade met Guerilla’s swing with one of his own - sinking the claws of his opposite hand into the flesh of Guerilla’s forelimb, cruelly ripping and tearing through the muscle. He snapped his jaws, biting and ripping and twisting at whatever meat he could get a grip on.

Blood spattered against the sand, drying where the sea hadn’t soaked in and staining the water when waves washed up the shore. He would rip the iguanodon into ribbons - and would have continued doing so, if not for the near miss of a euoplo’s club near his ankle. Fade wasn’t familiar with euoplocephalus, but he did know about the strength of a shuno’s tail, and euoplos looked even sturdier than shuno. He released Guerilla, backing off with a hiss. Blood and saliva stringed out between his upper and lower jaws and dripped onto the sand as he backed away. Guerilla started to charge him, but faltered when he slid on the sand and his own limbs struggled to support his weight due to his injuries.

Fade bellowed in return, a taunt which echoed across the water. Their plants were not welcome here, and neither were they.

The remaining Atlanteans stood on guard, waiting for Fade to attack again or otherwise come into their reach, but he had made his point. Another hiss escaped from between his teeth as he turned and made his way back towards the shipyard. 

He rejoined the bask more quietly than he had left. His body ached. He hadn’t escaped entirely unscathed, but really, what was one more scar on his worn and tattered hide? Whatever injuries he'd sustained would be lost in a sea of other marks just like it. Heron… 

He settled down beside her, feeling a great and terrible ache in his chest. She was so young, to be marked like this.

“I’m here, little bird. I’m here.”