The First Storm

He was deaf to the world around him. His eyelids drooped lazily as he gave a light tug, the leaves giving way with ease. With a subtle rumble he didn’t even notice, he ground at the plant matter. It was autopilot. Bite. Tug. Chew. Swallow. Rinse and repeat. Sometimes he had to stretch his legs to reach a particularly tempting cluster. Other times he had to lower his crested head to reach what was just barely touching the grass below. Bite. Tug. Chew. Swallow. It was the easiest task to survival for the young herbivore. Well, it was easy once you knew what to eat. Already in his own head, Turbo recalled his spikey friend, Chamomile. How lucky for him that she had seen him just in time before he had ingested the mushrooms. Perhaps he would not be here today, indulging in such sweet, juicy leaves. 

Bite. Tug. Chew. Swallow. Turbo had not a care in the world as he grazed, such a common habit when spoiled with peaceful days so consecutively. He was especially certain he had cracked the code to life. Hide from hungry predators, eat, drink, avoid the poisons. How good at surviving he was! Another satisfied rumble was barely audible from Turbo as he chewed yet another mouthful of leaves. He didn’t know how much time he spent completely stripping the bush of its decorative leaves, but as he pulled back, savoring the last remnants of flavor on his tongue, he noticed a distinct smell. It was a familiar smell, the exact kind he’d notice appeared just before rainfall. With a calm inhale, the young styracosaurus gave his crested head a little shake as he turned to move on. He was hardly concerned. In fact, he wasn’t the least bit so, as he had been no stranger to rain. Sure, the wet was a little unpleasant, but it was worth enduring for a more complete meal. 

Despite how young he was, being alone with excess time really gave one the resources to learn this area of the first inside out. In fact, Turbo knew this part as well as the horn on his nose! He felt he absolutely deserved a reward of blackberries before heading back to his densite. It also just so happened he knew where the blackberries grew fat and juicy. With a final look at the pathetic bush he had so greedily torn apart, Turbo broke into a trot, eagerness for his favorite treat tingling down to his toes. 

Something roared. 

Turbo’s stomach sank, and instinct kicked in instantly as he froze, shrinking down his rotund body into a crouch. It sounded huge. The bellow was so deep that he could feel the vibrations beneath his feet, even though it was relatively quiet. His green eyes scanned the area, watching for the danger. He waited, and waited. Nothing came. However, he remained where he was for several minutes, just in case. He focused on the silence around him, focusing to detect any subtle stepping noises of a stalking predator. There was nothing. Finally, with the slightest snort, he stood himself up as his head swiveled to continue to scan the area. While he walked forth, he remained on alert. 

Another roar. 

Now Turbo was certain there was something in the area. How quiet the roar was, yet how clearly he could feel it under his feet, it terrified him. It was time to divert his path. Walking in the open was probably not ideal anymore. While it would make the walk a bit trickier, it would be worth it to ensure the hungry creature did not find him. Ducking into the foliage, he was careful to maneuver his head to ensure his growing horns did not get tangled. While he was still seasons away from his prime, his horns at the top of his crest had grown rapidly in the last weeks. Sometimes he hoped they’d grow as tall as the trees covering him. 

The roar was closer this time. 

Turbo’s nails scraped at the ground, loosening up debris and roots as he pulled through the foliage. It rustled quite loudly, and he could hear critters scurrying to make way though he could not see them. How was he to do this silently with how big he was starting to get, come to think of it? Nervousness clawed at his stomach as he focused on the vibrations within the ground. He still could hear no steps. Certainly this was a very sneaky threat. Turbo was so focused on sound that he had now only just realized the rain smell was quite strong, now. Well, perhaps that would be good for him if a rain started. His own scent would be muffled, and perhaps the rainfall sounds would overpower the noises his clumsy sneaking around made. He could even ensure he got muddied to better help blend into the forest floor. 

The loudest bellow he had ever heard in his life. 

His body jolted, and he could feel his stomach practically twist into itself with horror. Turbo had no time to react before he had been completely soaked. The foliage he sought protection in from the supposed predator offered no safety from the sudden downpour. He wasn’t sure what was louder. The bellowing or the rain itself. Turbo shrunk into himself once more, the overwhelming grip of fear clawing its way throughout his body. His breaths came out in little huffs as he forced his legs to work, pushing his body through the foliage once more. Vines tugged at his face, and wet, sticky leaves clung to his scales. As he found himself repeatedly slowed down by the effort, a blinding flash struck him. The bellow once more assaulted his hearing, practically shaking his entire body as he fell over, his left side catching his fall. Turbo thrashed and fought at the vines that gripped him, viciously working to break free. He didn't care what direction he would end up, Turbo just wanted to go home, now. Hunger and indulgence was long forgotten. 

Finally, he broke from the vines, and he shot himself from the depths of his hiding place, out in the open once more. While he could freely move again, he felt completely vulnerable as the rain hit his back and his face. Squinting his green eyes, the young male worked to orient himself. He could hardly see through the rain. Every tree looked like the same indistinct blob, and no landmarks could be made out. The sky was darker than he’d ever seen, and so suddenly, too. Even the aggressive flashes of light that had terrified him were no help. The brightness and suddenness was simply far too disorienting and threatened to make him spin and tumble. 

The next crashing bellow had completely allowed fear to take over the young styracosaurus. He shot forward, a loud bleat for help that would never come accompanying him. Who was he even bleating for? Water splashed around Turbo as he sprinted blindly through the forest. Which way was home? Where was safety? Did safety even exist for this kind of event? He had been familiar with ducking under rocks or trees to keep himself relatively dry from rain, but it felt like this rain could penetrate anything and everything. Why was it so aggressive? Was this normal? What if the world was ending? Cold terror tightened his chest as he continued to sprint, weaving around trees and blockages in his path. There was nowhere to run from this. Everything looked the same, and Turbo could not distinguish which way was home. 

Another bleat erupted from his jaws as Turbo felt a jerk at his right forelimb. He had not seen the branch that caught his ankle, but he felt the consequences of it when his face slammed into wet grass. Perhaps if his own face wasn’t so soaked, the tears that spilled from his eyes could be made out. The young styracosaurus gasped as he pushed himself up. Perhaps he would have preferred a giant carnivore right now. At least they were more predictable than an angry sky. His head lifted as he regarded the bleak clouds above him. They completely blocked out any hint of what was blue before, and he could see distant flashes of light. Accompanying each flash were the roars that had initially frightened him. Sometimes the bellows were almost immediate, and the immediate ones were far louder. The ones that trailed slowly after softer flashes, though they were quieter, they were just as intense within his chest. Where could he run to? 

He squinted through the rain and his own tears as he looked towards his left, and then his right. Everything still looked the same. Shapes blurred together, and shadows threatened to hide a secondary looming threat. Turbo swallowed. Then he saw it. It was no cave or tunnel, but it looked like something he could hide under. Turbo charged, with all of his sprinting power, towards the fallen branch. With a closer look, he could see it propped up sturdily against a rock formation. Though the branch wasn’t as wide as his body, it was thick and did not look like it was going to budge anytime soon. The next roar from the sky made his choice for him. A reflexive bleat burst from the youngster once more, and he shoved himself under the branch. His horns offered some resistance, forcing the styracosaurus to angle his head to get past the blockage. Then, he leaned his body against the stone. This stone and this branch, his only protector. His only shelter that could block out even some of the harsh rain that slammed against his back. 

Another flash, and Turbo braced himself. Perhaps all of the bracing in the world could have been done, and he still could not help the bleat of horror. It felt as if the rage of the sky would never end. With each flash and roar, Turbo tensed, squeezing his eyes shut. His body jolted each time, and the anticipation of each round was just as agonizing. Finally, when he simply could not bear it anymore, Turbo pressed his forelimbs over his face, just behind the horn on his nose. He kept his eyes tightly shut and decided all he could do was wait for it to be over.

Turbo didn’t know how long he waited. Gradually, though, the roars of the sky lessened in frequency. The rain that poured onto his back end softened with time until he realized he could hear individual drops hitting the ground rather than aggressive hissing. Cautiously, he lifted his head from its hiding place. Leaning forward, he looked toward the sky. While it still looked bleak and dark, it did not appear so aggressive. Still, he remained where he was, just in case. He would not dare to risk being caught out in that again. Only when he saw the fight band of sunlight peaking through the clouds did Turbo decide it was finally safe. As he slowly abandoned his hiding spot, he looked around with tired, heavy eyelids. Turbo dared an exhausted sigh as he regarded notable debris on the ground. Small branches, twigs, leaves, pebbles… While the area looked somewhat different, he could recognize subtle shapes in the trees that were familiar. Finally able to orient himself, he picked a direction and began to trudge back home. He was done with his outing. 

Perhaps he would just sleep for the next week.