The Flock of... Not Seagulls?

There was one thing Salt always enjoyed about the beach, the seaside sand and stone; It was consistent. The waves no matter what, always crashed against the shore, and he had yet to see anything that was different than what he was used to. It was a welcome change from any sojourners he took to go and hunt, explore, or investigate the world around him. The Tropeognathus as it sat now, simply sunning on the warm, gray rocks near one of the cliffs that overlooked the sea so close to his nest. The sky partially overcast overhead making him pause for a moment, lifting his head to glance at the sky with gray eyes. He didn’t think it would rain anytime soon, clicking his long beak as he lowered his head back to the ground to enjoy the sun, eyes blinking closed, relaxing as the weak breeze ruffled his fine, delicate feathers. That is until he heard a tumble of small pebbles. His eyes snapping open and head raising, feathers bristling.

What was that? He blinked, jumping up, scrambling really in an undignified manner when he sighted something… strange, no- two, three? They looked like nothing he had seen before; they were dinosaurs yes- but narrow, angular, stick thin even when covered with feathers. The Tropeognathus bristling, wings outstretching to make himself seem larger as he batted them in the air. A clicking sound coming from his throat. They were here to steal from him- to hunt him- they had to be. Their sharp, needle-like teeth a warning in their own right in his mind.

The first was… interesting. A blue-grey colour, almost the same colour of the stone it stood upon. It’s limbs, tail and face terminating into a pale, silvery colour, that soon turned an off cream-white colour, tiny white flecks of streaks spotting along its back flowing out from a dark dorsal stripe along it’s spine that matched the dark brindles that followed it. It’s belly and undersides a soft fade of silver, claws sharp, feathers ornate, even more so than the others. It’s eyes a bright, pale green. As it opened it’s mouth and hissed, revealing a mottled pink and blue tongue. A set of dimorphic markings indicating it was likely male branching from the undersides of its eyes down it’s neck, colourful- a pale teal. It’s claws black as obsidian. It’s eyes darting from him, to another of its kin that tried to twist, sneaking to one side, closest to his nest like it might ambush him, or go for his nest.

The second skulking low, it’s hide featherless, a series of quills spiking up from it’s rump down towards its tail. It’s hide palest, almost ghost-like grey-brown, A splash of hard edged white unders running along it’s undersides. A soft fade of pink along it’s groin, chest, face and the tip of it’s long tail. The tear markings that smattered it’s face, running from it’s eyes outward in a darker, muddy brown, highlighting it’s tongue, which when it opened it’s mouth glowed in shade of pale, bright orange and yellow. A line of bioluminescent spots running along it’s elbows and arms, tapering towards both ends. It’s central torso and back marked by a series of overlapping fawn spots, in the same colour as the tear marks upon it’s face… It’s eyes pale gold, glowing much like it’s tongue and the spots upon it’s arms, terminating all in sharp, pink-white claws. It darted to the left, going for his nest quickly.

The Tropeognathus leaping into the air with a flap of his wings to tackle the paler of the three, knocking it to the ground with a shriek as he pinned it. His head whipping to the third of these strange new dinosaurs that he caught out of the corner of his eye trying to circle behind him. It’s feathering minimal, scruffy so to speak, not even covering it’s head, but it’s neck and further down. This one was a green colour, almost mossy, bordering on yellowing in colour. It’s eyes a dark, reddish hue, the colour of wine. A series of tiger stripes running down its back, dark in colour, matching the dorsal stripe that ran from the base of it’s head down to the tip of it’s tail. A series of pale, green brindles layered beneath the tiger like stripes that ran vertically down it’s hide. The creature the colour of dying leaves almost, rotting having fallen from the tree. The soft countershading on it’s underside the same colour as it’s brindling sitting even below that. White splotches of vitiligo spattering one side of it’s face and neck, a shoulder. A few more spatters along the tip of it’s tail, and it’s opposing side, branching out from the junction where leg met hip, closest to the belly, and along it’s groin, a few toes also marked by that vitiligo. It was a strange creature. And when it opened it’s mouth as it lunged at him it’s tongue was a warm pink, teeth sharp, claws a darker green than it’s darkest markings as it lunged. The fight apparent.

A shriek coming from the Tropeognathus as Saltbrine let go of his current opponent to turn on the one that tried to lunge at him, even if it was a little smaller, less brawny than he was. He could not understand it’s dialect as it chattered at him, and the other two quickly began to join in the attempt to mob him. The air filling with a series of hisses, shrieks and growls as the three tumbled in a ball of claws and teeth, batting, biting, clawing, leaving bruises and rips in skin, feathers flying. The Tropeognathus bunting his long bill into one of the creatures, belly first sending it flying. A shout coming up from one of the strange dinosaurs as they fought. “Neuq Neuq!” Salt snapped his beak at the darkest of the three, making it jump back. They would not get to call for assistance- not if there was more of them, this was his beach.