Let's Be Alone, Together

In a patch of woods on a dinosaur-infested island, a young theriznosaurus picked her way through the undergrowth. Her solitary species kept to themselves, even at such a young age, and she saw no problem with it. Her own company was all she needed. Her feathers were all black, except for her extremities and the verdant marking on her chest, so she could sneak through the dark forest, unseen and unacknowledged, as easily as the shadows cast by the trees.

On that particular afternoon, her wanderings brought her to a small clearing, and she was not alone. A young parasaur, dark brown with white feet and a striking blaze on his face, ate away at a bushel of bright red berries. He’d been there first, but the theriznosaurus was born armed with razor-sharp claws, and she wasn’t afraid to use them. And she was hungry.

She stepped out of the underbrush, her vivid green claws shining bright even in the limited sunlight. The parasaur heard her approaching, and let out an inquisitive trumpet. An offer to share. She crept forward silently, brandishing her claws in warning. The parasaur took a few uneasy steps backwards, glancing at the berries.

Not good enough. She lunged forward, her claws a vicious blur as they slashed the parasaur's throat. He let out a wretched, wet cry, rearing and falling heavily on his side.

She was sure he wouldn't bother her anymore, so she turned her attention to the ripe berries she was after. They were as delisious as she’d hoped. Tart skin gave way to sweet pulp beneath. She chewed at her leisure, knowing no one would take her prize from her.

The sound of footsteps behind her made her whip around, nearly snapping the branch from the bush.

It was a little cryolophosaurus, no doubt drawn in by the smell of fresh blood. At first, she thought the predator was nothing but a greedy glutton: his face was already stained red, meaning he must have eaten recently. But as she studied him, she realized it was only the natural color of his muzzle. There was a similar splatter on the left side of his chest, as though his first act after hatching was to tear out and devour his own heart.

The idea was rather captivating. His pale green feathers and white stripes made him look like a ghost, a corpse that still walked.

He was tiny compared to her, barely reaching her hips, and his little teeth would clearly be no match for her claws. Still, he slowly crept closer to the injured parasaur—and her.

As a rule, she didn’t like the company of other dinosaurs. They were competitors. Annoyances. Dangers. But only an idiotic cryolophosaurus would attack her when there was much easier prey right next to her, and he wouldn’t be interested in her berries…

She went back to eating, but she watched him out of the corner of her eye, just to be safe.

He kept his head low and inched forward slowly, his violet eyes flicking from the parasaur, to her, and back again. The parasaur groaned, knowing what fate was coming for him, but he was bleeding too heavily to get to his feet. The theriznosaurus felt no pity for him.

The ghostly cryolophosaurus pounced, his fangs sinking into the wounds already left by the theriznosaurus. Once again, the parasaur cried out, voice thick with blood and mucus. The noise was beginning to wear on her nerves. She made a mental note to end her enemies more quickly next time.

Soon the parasaur was dead. The cryolophosaurus met her gaze for a moment, as though asking permission to eat.

She narrowed her eyes, as if to say, “What do I care? He’s already dead,” prompting him to pull the parasaur just a little further away from her. Then both of them were enjoying a fresh meal.

She’d never spent much time around predators. There was usually little reason for an herbivore to spend time with a carnivore, unless they were at death’s door, not to mention she’d rarely had the chance; she’d only hatched recently.

Of all the things to expect from him, she didn’t know he’d be so noisy when he ate.

The sound of skin and flesh tearing seemed to echo in the clearing, drowning out the distant birdsong and the river bubbling nearby. It was the sound of a life not only ended, but violated, torn asunder.

She realized at some point that she’d stopped eating herself, and all of her attention was on the carcass.

He growled as he tore away at it. She wondered if he even noticed. He ripped at the parasaur’s chest with manic determiniation blazing in his eyes.

He plunged his snout deep between the ribs, and with a satisfied grunt, pulled his head back with the parasaur’s heart between his jaws. The plump little organ looked so supple and soft.

He stopped suddenly, and bolted upright; his violet eyes met hers again. Slowly, he leaned over, and set the heart beneath one of his feet. With a loud tear, he ripped the heart in two, and set the half in his mouth, very delicately, at her feet. He scampered away with his own half, but didn’t eat it, even as his mouth watered. He was watching her.

…Was the heart a gift for her?

Did he not understand that she was an herbivore? Theriznosauruses were not supposed to eat flesh; she knew this was well as she knew her dark feathers.

She glanced at the cryolophosaurus. Without breaking eye contact, he lowered his head and scooped his half into his mouth, chewing slowly, like a parent teaching its child to eat. His patronizing attitude would have insulted her, if her mind wasn’t already crammed with thoughts of intrigue and bafflement.

She poked the heart with her claws. It was squishy and a bit disgusting. Since it had been torn down the middle, most of the blood had already gushed out and stained the grass.

Would he be offended if she threw it away? What could he ever do to her if he was? She could easily overpower him, she thought… But she didn’t want to hurt him. That mania in his eyes—she’d never seen anything like it. And he’d offered her a gift.

She lowered her long neck to the ground. The smell was… strange. Sweet and sickly. She opened her beak, and nibbled.

She tasted the blood first, acrid and rusty against her tongue, a harsh constrast to the sugary berries. When she bit into the heart itself, she discovered the texture wasn’t unlike a large, overripe fruit. It gave way easily between her teeth. And it was so warm on the inside. Even as mangled as it was, life still clung to it, like the parasaur groaning as its killer closed in.

And now the theriznosaurus was devouring it, robbing it of any chance it had at living.

She licked her muzzle. She wasn’t sure if she liked the taste, but it wasn’t as nauseating as it appeared. Or smelled.

Seeing her piece was eaten, the cryolophosaurus gulped down his heart in one gulp. He went back to the carcass, but he seemed more in control of himself now; he ate at a slower, reasonable pace, and the ferocity in his eyes had faded.

The heart was his favorite part, she realized, and he’d cut it in half so that she could enjoy it, too.

He was a strange little carnivore, to be sure, but she didn’t mind the noise of him eating anymore. She knew where he was coming from, even if she didn’t think it completely justified his zeal.

She could handle his presence, she thought, unlike any other dinosaur she’d ever met. They made quite the pair. A shadow and a spectre.

The bitterness of the heart lingered in her mouth. If her new friend stuck around, she may just develop a taste for meat.