Surviving Ragnarok

Disclaimer: I do not own Ark: Survival Evolved, though the characters are all mine.


More than people, Liz missed music.

She had been a 'guest' on the dinosaur-infested continent for months now, and while there were people over the mountains, she preferred living by herself in the area that had been nicknamed Scotland. The horses that dotted the plains were better family than her last one had been, and the mountain folk came down every now and then to trade with her for a mount or two. She was becoming famous for her horses. Her herd numbered in the dozens at the moment, as well as a pair of trikes (named Stompy and Sarah) and a Parasaur (Mule) for hauling large amounts of cargo. She wanted a Raptor eventually, but they couldn't survive in the cold of the Highlands, and she needed to work on her pteradon's stamina anyway (Nimbus).

But more than people, she missed music. It had been so easy to find, to listen to, to create back on Earth, that people took it for granted, and Liz had been no exception. Waking up cold and naked on the shores had been jarring, but not so much as having to run away from a giant fecking spider. It wasn't until finding the Strip of the Bold that she had stopped running, the spider busy fighting a Bronto. She had offered a quiet cheer when the sauropod had squished it, then spend a cold night huddled up against a tree, hastily built fire the only thing that kept her from freezing. It was then that she'd noticed the diamond embedded in her arm, and the fact that her music player was gone, not to mention all of her clothes.

Right now, months after that horrid night, she was about as well off as she was going to get in this area. She leaned back in Misty's saddle, staring up into the sky as she hummed, a small train of new tames plodding behind her. "I breathe underwater, it's all in my head, what can I do? Don't let it fall apart!" she sang, kicking the mare into a gallop over the plains, song swelling as she leaned into the wind.

The paddock wasn't too far ahead, and she jumped down from the saddle to open the gates and lead the train in, Misty waiting patiently outside. The new mounts snorted and whinnied at the rest of the herd, old War Admiral taking charge as the lead stallion. Stormy, an old mare who had been tamed at the same time as Misty, was leaning over the fence waiting for her friend, but Liz was emptying the saddlebags of wood, stone, and narcoberries gathered out from the plain.

The 'castle' was only half finished, the ceiling on, but the walls for the second level only half up. The beginnings of the towers were peeking up, the only corners more than two panels high. The fresh stone was going up as new walls and a few ceiling pieces over one corner to protect the fabricator. The berries went into the basket next to the mortar and pestle, and slim fingers pressed against the diamond. Her eyes glowed the same color of the device, and she drew her hand away, panels forming in mid air.

Yeah, this was the main reason she didn't think she was on Earth anymore. Ignore the dinosaurs, science is amazing, but even she knew that the tech of the diamond was well beyond anything even being researched. The panels went up, slotting into the walls and new ceiling with ease, and she signed before leaning against the stone, pulling a piece of cooked meat out to chew through it hungrily. Parasaur made decent jerky she heard, but the oil needed to make it was very rare on her part of the coast, though more common out in the mountains with the others. In one corner was a hollowed out log, drying out slowly. Hopefully this one would make a good drum, the last two had dried unevenly, and had bad sound. This one was turning out good so far though.

A snort outside the window, and Liz smiled as one of the geldings eyeballed her in annoyance. "Hey Seabiscuit," she crooned, scratching thick fur right above that eye. Her horses were all named after all the famous equines she could remember, from historical to fantasy. War Admiral, Seabiscuit, and another stallion named Pharoah were named for racehorses, while the newest three were Sweetie Bell, Scootaloo, and Appleblossom. The lead mare was a zebra-striped lady named Zecora, and the herd was full of other mounts including Twilight, Artax, and even Shadowfax.

Liz hadn't been an owner of horses back on Earth, but a cog in the machine of the workforce. Every little girl loves horses growing up though, and Liz had been no exception. The oldest mare, a cherry red named Ember, had been her first tame, and an accident. She had given her one of the wild carrots, and she had started following her around. She was now pregnant, along with a handful of the other mares, and Liz was looking forward to seeing tiny foals racing around the paddock. She eyeballed the fence as 'Biscuit leaned into the scratches; she might have to expand the paddock before the foals dropped. She pushed that large head away after another minute, slapping a shoulder to encourage him to rejoin the herd. She was considering gelding some of the other stallions; 'Biscuit was the calmest of them, and it would be a good idea to help control the bloodlines when her mares came into season again.

"Hail the beach!"

Liz ducked her head out the door, grinning at the sight of the string of dinosaurs and their riders coming up onto the beach. At the end of the line was a paracer with a small hut on it's back, a pair of chimneys poking through the roof an indication of how they kept warm enough to get through the MurderSnow. "Hail the train!" she called, stepping out onto the beach to greet the man riding a gray Dire Wolf.

Joe threw back his hood, revealing brown eyes and brown hair matted down with body oils and sweat, but he was grinning too as he pulled his wolf up, offering a pat on the shoulder when the animal whined back at him. He only had two more people with him, a man on a Daedon, and the butch woman on the paracer. The boar was licking the wound on the Paracer's leg, and even as she watched, Liz could see the wound starting to close. "How's it been, Liz? The beach been quiet?"

The woman shrugged, letting the wolf sniff her hand. "Quiet as it can be. Been avoiding the eastern cliffs, saw a trio of allosaurus up there. If you guys can kill them or lead them away, I'd be willing to offer a good price on a gravid mare."

Joe had the eviliest smirk on his face at this. "Yum, I've missed veal."

"Don't be an ass." This came from the man on the Daedon, who was waltzing up after tying the reins to part of the paracer. "Hey Liz, it's good to see you again," he offered, offering a handshake. They clasped arms, the man nodding in approval at the new muscle he could feel in her forearms, and Liz pulling him in for a hug. Nathan, unlike Joe, understood boundaries, so Liz enjoyed his company more than the mountain leader. "We actually have something special for you," he offered, pulling her behind him back to the giant pig. "We took a short cut through the forest near the volcano, and we found this," he placed a hand on a saddlebag, popping open the bag as he continued. "There's no way we can get it back alive, so we were wondering if you'd be willing to try and hatch it."

"Try to hatch w- Oh My Good Lord!" Liz couldn't help the yelp as Nathan pulled out a large poisonous green egg, placing it in her arms. "Why?! Why do you think I can hatch a fucking Dragon?"

"Wyvern. And like I said, it won't survive the journey back over the mountain. But if you hatch it for us and raise it, we'll be more than willing to pay for your time."

Liz looked helplessly at the egg, struggling to wrap her arms around it's scaly outsides. "What the hell will it eat? The Strip doesn't have that many animals I can hunt down."

He had an anwser for that too. The woman driving the paracer climbed down when flagged, a pack in hand. "We found these on a dead wyvern near the egg. It tastes milky, so try these if it refuses anything else." Inside was a few bottles of what seemed to be milk, preserving salt packed deeply around them. Liz sighed; looks like she was going to hatch a Wyvern. The sigh turned into a scowl. "You'll owe me a lot for this. Like, this guys weight in metal. Processed, not raw ore."

"Deal. You have fun with this guy, and we'll be back for him in a month. Till then, you got any equus you're willing to sell?"