(no subject)
The Utahraptor inhales deeply, filtering scents through her complex olfactory apparatus in an attempt to find something, anything, familiar. The only things that strikes her as even remotely recognizable is a mammalian smell, only faintly evocative of the multis and other little furballs so common to her. Everything else that passes through her nose is alien. Her eyes aren’t helpful either. The lush greens and browns are all gone, replaced by gaudy, glaring, unnatural colors.
This isn’t my place! This isn’t my territory! Where am I?
The cool, gentle voice, female, ringing out from right at the end of her snout startles the twenty-foot dinosaur, and she rears back, hand claws flexing spasmodically. She doesn’t understand the words, and has no way of knowing that they are her thoughts, translated from images and memories into human language.
Her elongate head swivels back and forth, and shifts her weight nervously from leg to leg, muscles twitching. She is lost, and confused, and has nothing, either in her conscious memory or her instinctive repertoire, to deal with something like this. She sniffs again, trying to find even the slightest molecular trace of her mate, her chicks, her niece--anyone.
Anyone!
The human voice cries out again, louder, more strident, and startles the Utahraptor into a backwards hop, forearms flailing. She lets out a distressed screech, but already she suspects there will be no answering cry.
Typist: Bwahaha! Erm...Raptor Red, the protagonist of Robert Bakker's book of the same name. I promise I won’t let her eat too many people anyone.
This isn’t my place! This isn’t my territory! Where am I?
The cool, gentle voice, female, ringing out from right at the end of her snout startles the twenty-foot dinosaur, and she rears back, hand claws flexing spasmodically. She doesn’t understand the words, and has no way of knowing that they are her thoughts, translated from images and memories into human language.
Her elongate head swivels back and forth, and shifts her weight nervously from leg to leg, muscles twitching. She is lost, and confused, and has nothing, either in her conscious memory or her instinctive repertoire, to deal with something like this. She sniffs again, trying to find even the slightest molecular trace of her mate, her chicks, her niece--anyone.
Anyone!
The human voice cries out again, louder, more strident, and startles the Utahraptor into a backwards hop, forearms flailing. She lets out a distressed screech, but already she suspects there will be no answering cry.
Typist: Bwahaha! Erm...Raptor Red, the protagonist of Robert Bakker's book of the same name. I promise I won’t let her eat too many people anyone.