Flock Them Up - foxhimbo

The cool stream that fed into the sea was calm at this time of day. The brackish split between saltwater and sweetwater burbled over smooth stones, and the distant bird song danced about the jungle. There was nothing more pleasant in the world than this, especially for an Atopodentatus. Just a calm current, fine grazing, and no apex predators around.

All Dog Food wanted at this very moment was to pick over a pile of human scraps that had been carried downstream. Metal bits, shiny reflective glass, and a strange human figurine with a comically oversized head. It stood on a little plastic base with faded, scratched lettering that read: “Captain Coolguy”. Probably some kind of human god, no doubt. 

Dog Food plucked this relic from the sediment and kicked off the riverbed with his hind flippers. He surfaced with a soft pffh of an exhale from his nose, with his prize clutched in his bill. After a short paddle to the shoreline, he found a nice perch to display Captain Coolguy-- a rocky outcropping overlooking his grazing spot. With a satisfied hrmf!, Dog Food turned and dove back beneath the surface for more goodies.

He had just gotten to the riverbed once again to paw through more detritus when something moved to his left flank. He turned with a sharp swish of his tail, beady eyes searching the depths. The pondweeds swayed in the morning light, casting ever-moving shadows all around. He held still, waiting.

But there was nothing. Perhaps a minnow had gotten sight of him and scattered. Or a crab. 

He turned back to his pickings and secured a shiny reddish coin from the silt. With a quick paddle back to the surface, Dog Food was delighted to introduce Captain Coolguy to it. He took in a gulp of air, set the coin on the empty rock and--

Why was the rock empty? Where was Captain Coolguy? Dog Food hauled himself up onto the shore to get a proper look. Maybe he had fallen over in a breeze, or was unsteady on the rock. It had been underwater for who knows how long, wasting away. Maybe it made it all uneven!

Dog Food turned over pebbles and stones, dug into the clay, even tore a few plants out of the way to try and spy any sign of the figurine. 

“Looking for something?” something chuckled from the water’s edge. 

Dog Food quickly waddled back to the stream and there it was-- some kind of… raptor? 

It wasn’t very tall, like a Utahraptor. It also didn’t have the hard bony plate on its forehead like a Cryolophosaurus. It was feathery, fluffy even with a long tail and webbing between its onyx-colored claws. It looked like the color of a lovely ball of moss, especially when the sunlight hit its feathers.

Clutched in its tiny hands was Captain Coolguy. 

“Hey!” Dog Food shouted and made a rush towards the strange creature. “Finder’s keepers, man!” 

Now at a closer range, he could clearly see the pastel-olive striping on its ankles and wrists that ran up to about its knees and elbows. Stripes of that same color cut sharp lines on either thigh horizontally, while a brilliant white dorsal line ran the length of it from skull to tail-tip. 

It cocked its head to one side, peering one bright orange eye at Dog Food. The eye was rimmed with black that seemed to drip down its cheek and jaw. It tapped its claws against Captain Coolguy pointedly.

“What even are you?” Dog Food asked and raised up in an attempt to seem bigger. The creature chuckled a wet sort of sound, and he could see that its tongue was a disgusting shade of yellow, like bile after a bad fish. 

“A neuquenraptor, you freaky duck. What are you?” it cackled, and flared its tail feathers for emphasis. 

“I’m an atopodentatus. Or just atopo, really. Look, just give me the toy back,” Dog Food replied and tried not to sound pleading. The raptor… thing… just made a trilling sound and shook its head. 

“Nope. Gonna need a deal, ducky-boy. I’m new ‘round here. You want this back? You gotta give me some tips to get around. How’s that sound?”

“That’s it?” Dog Food replied. “I mean, sure. The sea is that way,” he bobbed his head downstream. “And a nice pond full of catfish is that way,” another bob of his head, upstream. “Avoid the carnos, the acros, and the alberts. There’s some other kinds of raptors around here buuuut, you’re awfully small. They might just munch you if you’re not careful.”

“That’s it? Don’t get eaten?” the raptor replied. “Gonna need more than the obvious, pal.” It strutted over to the rock where the figurine had once sat and hopped atop it. Dog Food could clearly see the same ugly yellow that was on its tongue was also coloring its breast, barely as big as his flipper. 

“I mean… the place was crawling with humans once?” he offered with a raise of his head. “If you bring me stuff with their weird symbols on it, I can read it for you.” He clacked his bill together in the raptor’s direction, adding, “Like that thing you’re holding. It says Captain Coolguy. I think that’s like, a name or something.” 

The raptor made a strange sort of clucking in its throat and it tilted its head sharply to one side. “Really?” it asked. “You can read their symbols? Now that is interesting.” It cackled again and set the figurine down on the rock. 

And then it pounced forward, landing with a flourish barely a foot from Dog Food’s bill. He scurried back in alarm, but out of the water he was quite slow. Thankfully, the raptor only seemed to bark a loud laugh. “Scare ya? Alright, duck. You got a deal. I bring you stuff to read, you tell me what it says, and I get to keep anything I want.”

“Uh… sure?” Dog Food replied, trying to inch himself closer to the water behind him.

“Excellent. Starting with this thing,” it raised one feathery arm. Clipped deep into the flesh was a metal tag of some kind, old and dull. Dog Food could see the engraved symbols of the human language on its surface. He gave the raptor a dubious glare, then waddled a few paces forwards. With a squint, but not daring to get any closer, he began to read aloud.

“Subject…Ten.” 

The neuquenraptor tapped its opposite claw to its chin and made a little “hrmm” sound. “Subject Ten? That’s what they called me? Pfft. Not the creative sort!” Unceremoniously, it strutted away from Dog Food and towards the bank of the stream. Without so much as a word, it dove straight into the water like an arrow.

It resurfaced not a few moments later with a long pipe in its claws that Dog Food recognized from his pickings pile at the bottom of the stream. “Hey!” he barked. 

“It’s the deal, duck. You read what I want you to read, I keep what I wanna keep. Besides, there’s plenty of junk for us to share, right?” it said with a toothy grin. Dog Food groaned inwardly and slipped back into the water with a glare in the raptor’s direction.

So much for the peace and quiet.