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Challenger

—»It was still, in the quiet hours of pre-dawn.

Stars flickered and faded, attempting for a few bare moments to shine through the overwhelming light of the steadily approaching sun, before slipping beneath a veil of murky purple. Beneath it all, the beast was anxious.

Not for fear, no, but for impose of threat did she pace her paddock. This was new. This was danger. This was c h a l l e n g e.

A low rumbled spilled betwixt parted fangs, the rex scenting the air once more. It was undeniable. There was another-an apex, top of the chain. Like her. The rex did not need intellect to recognize the thick scent blowing gently through the breeze.

Parting jaws wider lo did she [ bellow, ] a tremendous, terrifying sound--for she was queen and ruler here. This was her land; even if she could not SEE the threat-

-the old rex, snapping her jaws shut, knew the threat would hear her.

#observations;#matriarch;#[this is literally just a drabble of Rexy/matriarch smelling Indominus and feeling territorial what the heck else #am I supposed to write about with a t rex stuck in a paddock lmao]

Stagnant.

Routine.

Every day, like clockwork. She awoke, and she would roam her enclosure. It was...adequate. Enough for her to walk and not feel trapped. Enough for her to see different trees, to scent the crosswinds that flowed across the island.

But it’s not enough.

More. More is what she had, more to walk and more to see and venture until she reached the sand and the bitter-water and the cries of the nameless things that cried noisily in the sky.

Stagnant, she would think. Were she capable of it. Boring. The crying-same-food would appear, the soft-things would be there. She would see them. She would not eat them. She would eat the crying-same-food. Many times this would happen, and she would not question. She could not question.

But she could be bored.

She was bored.

Until she remembered the others. Little ones, of the nest. Not grown but not new. At her side, bickering, even they were routine. But at least they kept her busy. The aged titan rumbled, a noise that would terrify lesser creatures. To the two, half-fledged and only belly-high, it was nothing.

The Matriarch rumbled once more, this time with the parting of jaws, the flashing of teeth. The bickering stopped.

There was silence, and now she could rest.

#drabbles #Matriarch;#ofthenest;#[Idk I'm not really writing anything plotworthy just trying to get a writing style down]#[get a feel for the muse by writing various situations]#[trying to figure out how a T. rex would view the world is tiresome]

Meet Indominus Rex yet?

Noise. Unnecessary noise from yet another of the little creatures, the soft-things that came every day to watch. The things that have been there forever, always watching.

The Matriarch gave the thing as much attention as she gave any of the other faces in the crowd, not understanding the inquiry. Perhaps for a lack of basic speech, or maybe her brain just wasn’t developed enough to be capable of understanding, who knew.

However, had the aged creature been able to comprehend, she’d have been able to give some sense of an answer. For the words would have inspired scents, new scents.

Something new on the island. Her island. something unwelcome. Another. like her, but not. Top of the realm, a challenger. Unseen, beyond the barriers, beyond and in what once was all hers.

Trespasser, she would think, were she capable of organized thought.

She snorts, and tilts her head back to allow the goat she had been resting on her tongue to slip back down her yawning throat.

#Matriarch;#faceinthecrowd;