FINTAIL

𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐄

"CAWWRR!"

AH YES, the sound of a dying pterosaur. A call most predators of the primal age hated. It wasn't pretty, beautiful, or threatening by any means -- it was petty, and accomplished nothing more than bothering the many skulls that were forced to listen to it.

Riptide and Cora were sadly two of them.

As the injured (and loud) flyer squealed and screamed in desperation for an invisible savior, the male spinosaurus quickly slammed his foot upon the writhing flyer, entrapping it to the floor and sealing its fate. He snapped his jaws around the neck, applied as much pressure as a spinosaurus could, and twisted. An echoing crack rocked through the poor body before it seized, and stilled.

And I was there to collect the prize: a nice, still-screeching, pterosaur soul, ripe for the taking.

With a triumphant hiss, the spinosaurus nibbled upon the fallen creature's back and moved his catch over to Cora, who also bore a pterosaur in her jaws. But, unlike Riptide, she wasn't as happy about it.

"Bleh," Cora's snout wrinkled as the dead flyer's leathery skin rubbed against her pink tongue. "Remind me why we're killing this disgusting thing, and not hunting at the river?"

"Pest control," answered Riptide with a snort, gathering his kill as well, "and a fresh, warm breakfast for the two of us."

Cora growled. "Hrrr... It tastes like death."

Excuse me?

"Aren't you a meat-eater?" asked Riptide, beginning to grin through the lifeless corpse swinging beneath his maw. "Come on, it's not that bad! See-" He threw his head back, gobbling up his prey -- wings and all -- with one sharp pull and a hard swallow. His stomach gurgled at the strange meal entering his system, forcing the longsnout to garner a guttural hiss before it was fully welcomed. "T-There..." Riptide finally exhaled, licking at his chops. "Believe me... I've had worse."

"Yeah, no..." the female dropped the flyer on the ground and kicked it away. "I'm sure someone else will enjoy the flavor of scrawny, dried up skin and bone."

"Well, it's best we all get used to it," muttered the male, leaning down to pull Cora's kill to his feet. "These things have been gnawing at our buried kills for months. And Mother needs food to sustain herself from that sickness she has. At the rate this is going for us eight, we'll be starving throughout the winter."

Cora's jaws dropped. "So it wasn't Jagger! Oh..." Her tail drooped. "I guess I owe him an apology. I always assumed he was stealing our patch."

"Oh, I'm sure he has," chuckled Riptide, who playfully swished his thick tail from side to side. "He smells like fish everyday. I wouldn't be surprised if it was true-"

"C-CORA!"

Both longsnouts whirled to the sound; a creature suddenly burst out of the foliage with a heart-broken roar of pain. A roar they both knew by heart. But that wasn't what froze the two predators in their tracks; it was Thorn... and he was covered from head to tail in blood. The crimson color spoiled his scales and drooled down his body like tar from the deep grooves in his body. And it was real; their nostrils inhaled the familiar metallic aroma, which quickly flooded the forest surrounding them. That alone shook the longsnouts to the core.

"O-Oh my..."

"THORN?!" Cora rushed to him first, catching the male as he safely staggered into his sibling's arms. She delivered quick, frantic licks to the crying longsnout, her heart thrumming faster and faster as she uncovered each wound. From above, Riptide could see sharp thorns of splintered wood lodged into his brother's scales, and a fresh coat of mud oozing around the damages. It looked as if he had been thrown by something, but what?