Hello! I was going to have this chapter be longer, but I hit what felt like a natural break between this chapter and the next. Since ideas for the next chapter are fresh in my mind, I will probably work on it this week, though I can't give an estimated release date, unfortunately. It depends on how strong my mojo is and how much free time I have.
When I originally tried to write this chapter, I failed and ended up writing a one shot called Touch, which has sexual content. I began writing it after realizing Rexy would have had very little to no pleasant physical contact, since almost everything she ends up encountering attacks her and tries to kill her. I just found that sad.
Either way, thank you for so much support!
Circling.
Circling, they were.
Testing and debating, searching for weakness.
Weakness that the Bull hid well, but not well enough.
It was useless to hide the scent of blood, the scent of torn flesh, even in the downpour of the storm. The grassy knoll began to swell with muddy waters, swirling and churning in the flows of the forcing winds and pounding rains, trembling under the power of the surge. The water rolled and sloshed around the Bull's feet, diverging to make way around his form. The sideways rains pelted his hide, illuminating his scales under the dark skies when a flash of light struck a nearby tree, the zap of the bolt being heard as the tree burst into wooden shrapnel and fire.
The Spinosaur's emerald gaze fell upon the three Metriacanthosaurus: One blue, the second green, and the third, black.
The Bull towered over the wolves, rain racing down his gaping, broken maw in a waterfall mixed with red, his taloned hands gripping and grasping at the air, clawed fingers cracking in preparation. A guttural, almost crocodilian hiss escaped his scaled throat. A warning. A threat. Sorna's Spinosaurus briefly craned his neck towards his quarry, towards Nublar's Queen. She was struggling to get up. Struggling, and so far failing. The swelling lake that was once the knoll was growing, the mud and damp earth making it difficult for Roberta to get proper footing with her injured foot.
The Spinosaurus then turned his gaze back towards the wolven pack.
No.
They were not getting her.
Not unless he died.
She was his prey, and no one else's.
Once more, the lighting struck in the distance, alighting the sky as the strong gales battered the island and churned the sea.
The three Metriacanthosaurus did not know what this large beast was. All they knew was that the monster came from the sea, and with it, served as a harbinger for the coming storm. For when it came, the storm came.
And just like the storm, the sailed predator was force of nature.
And just like the storm, he would see these parasites drown in his wrath and fury.
'Twas then that a wolf-the black one-struck. It moved to charge head on, seeking to use the dark of the storm to is advantage. It was a mistake that cost it dearly.
A sudden forceful strike of jagged talon raked through its scales and flesh, bones breaking as the Bull struck with force and rage with his well arm. The Metriacanthosaurus twisted with the raw power of the blow, getting knocked off its feet and into the swelling waters and viscous mud. No sooner had the smaller predator found itself drenched in water and mud, it soon found itself trapped within the gripping earth. The animal struggled to regain its senses, struggled to rise to escape the looming beast above it, struggled to keep its neck above the grueling surf.
Water appeared to be rupturing and dancing all around the fallen animal as it fought to regain its footing, the pounding of the rain upon the water nigh deafening. A sudden, dominating weight forced the wolf under the swirling waters and rising mud, Sorna's apex predator having pressed upon the Metriacanthosaurus with a massive foot.
The animal struggled and thrashed underneath him, yet the Spinosaurus merely held the smaller carnivore down, gaze fixated upon the movements of its struggles. His jaded gaze darkened with a glint of malice, his toes curling, digging into the flesh of his opponent. He felt the wolf writhe and tense underneath him. Felt it weaken as it began to lose consciousness, or perhaps fully drown.
Briefly, if ever so briefly, the Bull debated. He could kill it. He could.
...But what would be the fun in that?
Suddenly, the male Spinosaur released his hold upon the Metriacanthosaurus, the animal breaking through the churning flood waters, breaths deep and greedy as it spat out mud and water. The breath it took was but a second's length, before the same great weight descended upon the beast, and once more, it was submerged.
A swelling of pride filled the male's chest. The pride of victory. The pride of domination. The pride and sadism of knowing this creature underneath his clawed foot was completely at his mercy. That he was this animal's mercy. This beast's wrath. This parasite's god.
The sense of control the Bull felt was enough to spark excitement within his body, an arousal beginning to form. His emerald gaze was so intent upon watching the Metriacanthosaurus struggle in sadistic glee, that he failed to realize the approach of the second wolf-the blue one. He only noticed upon feeling a pair of jaws clamp upon his uninjured arm.
A shrill, wrathful wail ruptured forth from his scaled throat, rain water flying from the force of his cry, as if a water dragon spewing currents of the seas. The blue predator attempted to thrash, twist and turn upon the limb locked between its jaws, but found itself being dragged by the greater weight of the looming beast. Jaws gaping wide, dark and red water spilling from his maw, the Spined Dragon raised his head, neck extending upwards, muscles tensing. And then he descended, his top jaw striking the Metriacanthosaurus with such a blow that the animal nigh lost its balance, a crack ringing out that cut flesh and fractured bone upon its shoulder.
The blue predator let go almost instantly, body reeling away and attempting to shake itself free of pain. A second axe like blow from above sent the animal down to the ground, body spasming and muscles thrashing, spinal nerves severed upon its nape.
The Water Dragon released a snort, green eyes briefly falling to his now injured arm, then to the Metriacanthosaurus before him, still spasming lifelessly within the muddy lake of the knoll, then to the black beast that was held by his weight. It was not moving.
Hmmm. A shame. He wanted to toy with it more. The Bull raised his leg, and settled it back down within the murky waters as a flash of light, followed by a rumble in the distance. The rain still caused the waters of the knoll to dance, though it was to a more gentle tune as the storm began to pass.
The Spinosaur craned his neck to turn towards his quarry. Roberta had risen to her feet, posture fatigued and spent, but appeared to be lacking of further injuries. The male then turned towards the remaining pack member-or rather-where he thought it was. Alas, the animal was nowhere in sight. At least, not anywhere that he could see in the darkening skies. Once more, he turned his gaze towards the Queen.
He looked upon her.
She looked upon him.
They held gazes for a long time, debating and testing. None dared move. The humidity wrought upon by the storm was thick within the air, and it did little to alleviate the tension of an ensuing battle, no matter how fatigued the participants were.
It was then that Roberta exhaled, slowly and deeply, and produced a heavy chuff, hot wisps of breath escaping her scaled maw. Her muscles fell lax, and slowly her gait carried her away from the flooded knoll, and towards her previous kill upon higher ground. Her limp was heavy and strained. She would not be able to run for quite some time.
The Bull Spinosaur watched the Queen as she moved, jaded gaze following, then moving from the Tyrant, and towards the water logged corpses. He was in no condition to hunt, nor kill. He was now regretting his choice of using his maw to kill that scavenger, even if it was not used with the force of his lower jaw. Sorna's Spinosaurus watched the bodies, stared at them, studied them, as if they were suddenly going to up and move about. As if they were not yet dead. Truly dead.
Upon being satisfied the corpses would not be washed away, the male made his way towards the elevated knoll, and removed himself from flooded ground. Roberta lay upon the other side of the knoll, the rainfall now soft upon her scales. She rested with discomfort, attempting to lay in a position that did not cause any more pain to her injured leg and stinging wounds. The Queen tilted her head towards the source of footfalls approaching, seeing her rival near. He ceased his walking to just stand upon the crest opposite of her, the corpse between them.
The Bull stared upon the Queen.
The Queen stared upon the Bull.
Slowly, painfully, the Spinosaurus lowered himself to the ground, injured arms and ruined jaw finally at rest. Upon spying her rival lay down to rest, Roberta, herself, did the same, a great breath escaping her.
The Queen supposed this would do for now, this...agreement. She was too fatigued to fight, and the male clearly was as well. She was in no condition to hunt, and neither was he. They could stay here, upon the knoll, in peace, if ever briefly. They had several corpses to feed upon, after all, and thus, could focus upon healing from their wounds.
Yes, they could certainly stay like this, for now.
As Roberta felt her body succumb to sleep, peace fell over her tired form.
The rain softened to a light drizzle, before stopping entirely.
The wind died down, and the rumbles of thunder ceased.
The sky brightened, and the sun began to peek out shyly from behind broken clouds.
In the wake of the raging storm, peace reigned within the Queen's domain once more, if however briefly.
I once more apologize for the length.
Thank you for reading and have a good day!