[Trade] A Foggy Morning Jaunt

Dawn had not yet risen by the time the cryolophosaurus rose from his den. He could smell the dampness of the pre-morning air and knew it would soon be prime time for some light exploration. He stretched each leg, then arched his head skyward to limber up his neck. Right, then. Off we go.

He trotted out of his resting site and down a game trail through the jungle. The earth was soft and mist clung to each tree and fern like a hatchling afraid to leave its mother's side. Siren padded along in silence and solitude, keeping his brilliant blue eyes peeled for any sign of prey-- or predator. The gentle thmp-thmp of his feet on the loam set a steady rhythm, broken by the occasional rustle of leaves as he passed through the undergrowth. 

After perhaps an hour of uneventful travel, Siren could smell what he was searching for. The trail dipped down and the treeline yielded to an overgrown grey path. It was hard like stone, but smooth and flat and uniform, and it stretched for some miles in either direction. Human-made, he figured, as it led straight to one of the ruined cities. 

But an even more welcome sight than the road was the thick blanket of fog. It pressed close on all sides, curling down from the jungle and spreading its dreary fingers in every direction. Siren made a soft pleased sort of chortle and stepped down onto the road. His talons clacked with each step here and informed any would-be predators of his presence. But then, that's what the fog was for. 

He was a blur of grey on dull-white fog. His footsteps bounced off of the earthbound cloud-cover and made him hard to pinpoint by hearing. Sure, they could track him by scent, but he could outrun most anything that would make a meal of a cryolophosaurus. Yes, he thought, satisfied, Today is a good day for scavenging.

His legs carried him ever onwards, the road curving to the right and then gently rising upwards until it was above the clinging jungle and gentle cut of a stream. Some cracks had begun to form in the asphault, yielding to sudden drops or twisted knots of rebar. Siren had to slow his pace here, carefully picking his way over the crumbling road and the vacant metal... things lining it. He had heard once that humans used to ride these strange monsters, but Siren couldn't figure how they could possibly do so comfortably. 

One particularly large one was made up of the monstrous front-half, with an elongated box as the back-half. It stretched over a rather large gap in the road, dipping in the middle under its own weight. Siren judged the gap and peered over the edge to the forest floor below. He couldn't quite see the far side with the dense fog surrounding him still. He wasn't a fan of leaping blindly into the unknown. And so he turned his attention to the metal behemoth.

With a low grumble, he paced over to look at it more closely. He gave the side of the box a firm shove with one of his hands. It seemed stable enough... 

He crouched low, then pounced upwards and landed delicately atop the crate. The metal groaned under his weight-- but it did not shift. Not yet, at least. Siren didn't want to tempt fate any further. He rushed forwards towards the front of the behemoth, each step echoing inside the hollow crate loudly. As he reached the edge, he spied the far side of the road and with little time to think, he leapt.

He landed on the other side roughly, leaning with his momentum and scraping his claws along the asphault to find traction. When he had stopped skidding, he looked up to the metal behemoth with a few heavy breaths. But it lay unmoving, seemingly content with not plunging into the jungle beneath it. He twitched his head to look at the road ahead of him.

Massive shadows loomed just out of clear vision in the fog. Tall, far too tall, and wide as well. Buildings, he knew. Humans were strange creatures. He pressed onwards, and soon the fog yielded to the shadows. Metal monuments to a time long passed, with windows broken or cracked to reveal the innards like carcasses. 

He peered into one as he passed and saw plush furniture ripped and torn. The stuffing had been pulled out and tossed around and a coil of metal lay limply out of one side. Nothing of interest here. He pushed on.

Deeper into the city now, he was surprised to find that it was not quiet. Morning birds perching high overhead gave calls to one another. He could hear the echoing chortles and squawks of some fellow cryolophosauri, too, but too far to make out their words. And every now and then, something would groan or snap or twang. He was grateful for the fog; at least he knew he couldn't be watched while it still blanketed the land.

The roads were eroded here as well, and more than once did he have to narrowly avoid getting a foot speared on rusted spears of metal clawing out of the pavement. But it was all worth it as he finally came upon the sight he was hoping to find.

A small building compared to the others, but far wider. It once had a proud series of human symbols etched above the doorway, but now was covered with creeping moss. Siren nosed his way through the twisted-open front doors and padded into the dark interior. 

From what he could understand of this building, he figured it was a place to display trophies from kills. Other dinosaurs had already picked the first few displays clean, but further in the back were more of them. Glass boxes that displayed bones and vague stuffed versions of other animals. The trick was getting into these boxes without cutting yourself. But Siren had just the thing for that.

As he crossed through the lobby towards the far back hallway entrance, he made note of short brass pillars connected with soft velvet ropes. He had no idea what these were used for, as they no doubt made terrible barriers, but they snaked along parallel lines throughout the lobby. Some were toppled over and others still stood, proudly performing whatever job they were designed for. And they just so happened to also make for excellent bats.

Siren selected one of the poles that had tipped over and snapped his jaws around the velvet rope still connecting it to its brethren. With a quick wrench of his head to the side, the velvet shredded between his teeth. He spat out stuffing and sneered at the frayed bits of velvet stuck in his gums, but that would be a task for later. For now, he collected his new tool up into his hands.

Or, he tried to. The brass surface was slippery and impossible to grip in his short arms. With a resigned grumble in his throat, he delicately clutched it between his teeth, and then trotted down the far hall. It was even darker in here, and he had to rely more and more on his night vision and his sense of smell. But before long, he had come to what he was looking for.

A grand display of the human's hunting prowess, no doubt. 

It was a massive scene of cryolophosauri hunting down a therizinosaurus in its prime. Each dinosaur was stuffed versions of themselves, articulated into a fine action scene. The pack were all mottled browns and greens to blend into the forest backdrop, while the therizinosaurus was covered in black and white plumage. 

Siren wanted its claws. 

He adjusted his grip on the brass pole in his jaws with a few scrabblings from his hands. He took a few paces back to give himself space and then with a mighty heave--

PSHHH!

The pole collided with the glass in a shower of shards. Like a frozen lake cracking all at once, the sound was brilliantly loud. And then, it was silent again. Siren knew other dinosaurs would be attracted by the noise; he had to act quick. 

He rushed forwards, leaping over the larger pile of glass shards and landing atop the display's faux-ground. Unceremoniously, he clamped his jaws around the stuffed therizinosaurus's left wrist and tugged, twisted, yanked. It popped off surprisingly easily, and he found that it was... not actually a therizinosaurus's corpse at all. It was just fabric? And wire? What-- 

No time to question the sanity of humanity. 

Clutching the fake-therizinosaurus hand in his jaws, he leapt out of the display and skidded-slipped-slid on the smooth tile floor. He caught himself with one hand before he went sliding into the wall, twisted his balance with his tail, and made a bee-line for the exit. Huffing through the therizinosaurus feathers, he emerged back into the misty daylight. 

He turned to look left, the way he had come from up the road. And to his right, the decidedly bad sound of a carnotaurus grunting somewhere in the middle-distance. Way too close for comfort, and too close to be cautious about his exit. 

Siren took off at a dead sprint, clutching a fake hand in his jaws as he ran the entire way back to the bridge, the behemoth, and finally the safety of the jungle.