Error: Code Catholicon (Male Utahraptor x Raptor Squad!)

Desperation

The prey the pack hunted was normally small mammals and dinosaurs. A common tactic was for the sisters to chase and shepard prey along a worn torn trail used by various animals. Grasses worn and broken along the path, but thick and rich with foliage and shadows on all sides. A ripe place for ambush, allowing a sister to rest whilst another leapt from her hidden lair and resumed the hunt, leading their quarry ever closer towards the killing field. When death came, it came swift.

Death was shaped like a sickle upon a single scaled toe.

The pack mainly hunted small prey, for they did not have the numbers, and risk of injury was too high.

This meant that only one pack member would feed at a time, and the others would go hungry until it was their turn to reap.

Now, however, things were different.

The pack was even more splintered.

Echo and Blue were still gone, and in Charlie's state, the youngest sister could not hunt.

The pack was, for all intents and purposes, down to only two hunters.

And Delta was, by far, the better of the two.

The green hued female with coloration so light, she was nigh grey, was accurate with her strikes and slashes. She was swift. She was agile. She was precise. She was stealthy.

All things Amethyst was not. The hulking Utahraptor was too large to run down prey for long distances. Too large to be as agile as any of his mates. Too heavy to be as agile as his females. Too vivid of hue to properly ambush.

The pack normally hunted small prey, fatigued from being run down and only enough for one sister.

Now, they were being forced to target more dangerous prey.

They were targeting prey that was normally only hunted by The Scarred One.

Amethyst and Delta were hunting down the stocky, frilled, horned prey that sported thick armored hides, and were prone to charging.

Or, rather, the pair were after their young.

Delta's golden, serpentine eyes dully glittered in the dim light that broke through the darkness of the canopy, her gaze sharp and focused. Her clawed hands clenched and unclenched in anticipation, breath deep, yet controlled as she awaited for the moment to stripe. Her killings claws twitched and dully tapped upon the leaf and grass trodden forest floor. Beyond the shadows of her hidden lair, lay sunlight.

A small herd of the horned prey meandered and trudged along their grazing fields, the gentle wind of the valley casting the grasses to and fro in a dance, carrying with it the faint scent of the sea. There were several females, and a large, old bull, horned frill scarred from previous battles-but if from predators, or from other males, Delta was unsure.

And she didn't entirely care.

She was more focused upon the calves that were romping around, snorting, kicking up grass and dirt, and butting each other's heads.

As the young calves played, a few of them neared closer and closer to Delta's hiding spot. The female Raptor skulked back slightly, as if fearful of being seen. Though she fought the urge to lunge forth from her hidden sanctuary, instinct beckoning for her to pounce upon such hapless prey.

But Delta couldn't.

She wouldn't.

That would ruin the plan.

And hearing the harrowing, wailing trill of her alpha echo on the opposite end of her shadowed lair, Delta knew the plan had begun.

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