Many Eyes

Waves crashed in rhythmic serenity along the beachside retreat. Each toss sent cascades of salty water lapping at the shoreline, dampening the sand and tickling at the toes of the behemoth passing by. Crowley was a far walk from the safety of the Iguanodon herd. He'd set out on a mighty quest, in search of a very specific bed of moss to line his nest. Naturally, with Spring rolling into play—Summer approaching swifter than he could have ever accounted for—it was time that he stepped up his game and attempted to woo his long-time partner: Adur. She deserved nothing but the best; or perhaps it was just that she'd only accept his very best. Regardless, that was what had driven Crowley to come all this way in the first place.

Even the beaches that lined the Kiama Archipelago could be spooky at night. Never as spooky as the dense jungles, or structures left by those before them, but unsettling nonetheless. With the setting sun, crickets began to chirp, and strange birds wooped and cried off in the distance. Crowley had never been known for his bravery, a pretty boy and romantic at heart, it was no wonder that the darkening scenery would put him on edge.

A fuzzy head turned, his paws shifting in the wet stand he stood upon. The path home was looking more and more tantalizing with each step. Had he assigned himself this excursion far earlier in the day, he wouldn't be stranded out here in the approaching night. It might be unwise to return empty pawed, though he was almost certain Adur wouldn't rightly mind it. Maybe a mango would sate her for the time being, until he could retrace his steps tomorrow and fetch that moss bed for her? What a silly thought. No—that simply would not do. Not for her.

When he'd just about made up his mind, and turned on his heel to continue the trek, Crowley was met with a vast group of eyes, gleaming as they peered out of the trees ahead. Not one pair, nor two, nor three. Dozens. Tiny pinpricks leering out from within the dense, leafy canopy. All staring at him. Crowley froze, as any coward would, standing there with a flabbergasted, horrified expression. Had it been his pacing that had attracted the crowd, or had that entire inner-monologue taken place aloud?
On unsteady feet, the brute reversed several steps, his neck curled and chin lifted in a display of unmistakable fear. The skittering of tiny footsteps just nearly set him off in a dead run. He scrambled, turned, and found himself face to face with.. the tiniest raptor he'd ever seen. A thin muzzle, just nearly touching his, and tiny talons furled up to their chest. The beast hopped backwards—halfheartedly, not quite wary of the Iguanodontid standing before it—and tipped its head, speaking in a rasping, feminine voice,

"You're not from around here, are you?"

Crowley might have mistaken the raptor for just a bird, had it not spoken to him. He squawked, and stumbled in the opposite direction of the scavenger, eyes blown wide. To any bystander, this was much the same dynamic of an elephant afraid of a mouse. Perhaps he'd have been less scared, had there not been at least ten more of these little things in the trees. Teeth, no matter the size, were sharp. Deceptively so, when there were so many sets of them.

The raptor continued, feathers on her head flattening as she spoke. "No, darling, you certainly are not. Aren't you a beautiful specimen?" She croaked. Standing up tall, her feathers glimmered in the setting sun. Black, with faux iridescence glittering all across them. Greens, reds, and teals gently scattered along the dense, shrouded plummage, further accentuated by the radiant orange light of the setting sun.
"What is your name, dear?"

Crowley frowned, his brow upturned with concern. Perhaps this stranger, and their kin, held no ill-intent for him? He sidestepped; thundering paws sunk into the sandy sludge with each stiffened movement. The poor thing, his mouth had gone all but bone dry, and his words crackled with uncertainty in his throat. "Crowley." A simple response, clearly still concerned with his current predicament. Before he'd been given the chance to tack on any details, she was interjecting again.

"You may call me Celie. Relax, Crowley! Don't be stranger," she crooned. Not entirely the pennacle of trustworthy, a distinct hint of insincerity laced her voice. The Neuqenraptor clicked at him, and offered a wry smile the brute's way.
Crowley, in all his naivety, thought she seemed nice enough. He flicked his tail tip, and glanced around. "You're not.. gonna eat me then?" He asked, sheepishly. Celie looked pointed, her nose turning up at the question. "Well, you're not a fish, are you? Not a bug either?" When Crowley looked confused, she just said: "No."

He still looked tense, but that was… a bit of a relief. The Iguanodon nodded his head, peering down at his patron with wide eyes. To Celie, it looked like the behemoth was about to pop. Iguanodontids weren't known for their cowardice, were they? She was baffled by it, seeing such a strong specimen put on edge by a group of tiny, fish eating raptors.
"Aren't you far from home? I'd hate to keep you long, young Crowley," she commented, casting a glance over his shoulder. Hadn't he been considering tucking tail in the first place? If the herbivore was that terrified, he should have just ran in the first place. Sly, orange eyes caught and clung to the rays of disappearing daylight as the sun began to disappear under the vast, oceanic horizon. The Iguanodon nodded.

"Yes! Yes, I'll be going now- er, Celie," he said, unable to mask his enthusiasm. This had been quite the adventure. Furthermore, enough excitement for him in one day. It was about time he returned to the forest and settled down with the herd. They'd all be asleep by the time he returned, he reckoned.

The corvid-like raptor trilled. She understood. "Perhaps next time, you should bring back up." She gave her coat a quick shake, turning to preen at the long feathers of her arms casually. Crowley frowned. Unable to protest such a comment, he just turned his head up. "I had best be on my way!" He chirped.

As the Iguanodontid turned, the rhythmic thud-thud-thud of his paws on the sand punctuating his depature, the Neuquenraptor lifted her darkened head from beneath her wing, gazing down the beach at his rapidly retreating form. Celie smiled, her glittering feathers catching the distant sunlight one last time before her sleek form disappeared into the dense palms surrounding their home.