@monsters-of-the-new-world
In the list of truly awful-awful bad ideas that occasionally made their home of Cornelia’s cranium, there were quite a few contenders for the top spot.
And, in a way that would mortify researchers from all the consecutive fleets to arrive in the New world over the span of 50 years, the common motor to her recklessness tended to be curiosity. Scientific curiosity. Growing up amidst dusty researchers had left its mark and somehow, turned into a bad influence in some minuscule but significant degree. The world was full of questions that needed answering by herself if she couldn’t find it elsewhere.
But to come back to the issue at hand, the idea - well, more like a question, that sprang into her noggin’ that day was easily worthy of the top five.
What in the world did Odogarons have for a snack?
Silly question on the surface, less silly if you considered that Odogarons burned calories like coal furnaces and likely needed very rich meals. Of course, meat was the only thing on their menu, but where did the meat in question come from? To answer that question, Cornelia’s only idea had been to get her hands specifically on an Odogaron’s chosen chunk of meat.
Which usually hung from the Odogaron’s mouth as they patrolled the Rotten Vale. Nevermind that she wasn’t sure how to identify the meal afterwards, the little hunter apprentice had made for the Vale by wingdrake, determined to elucidate that mystery. With the familiar coat of the ghillie mantle, which admittedly smelled worse than usual thanks to having been redecorated, one proper filtration equipment piece and pair of goggles, the youngling found herself waiting.
Not in the most comfortable of positions, sitting in a yellowish fog around a bed of carcasses, looking like the decor thanks to the mantle, but it was a popular spot for the large fanged wyverns to patrol. Holding back her urge to make unsightly gagging sounds, she waited, and waited... until, well, her target appared in the corner of her eye. A quite normal specimen of Odogaron - bright red, claws to tear flesh, teeth equally impressive on a long snout four legs, one club-shaped tail, and a snack in its mouth.
And as luck would have it, she caught a glance of a rather large, black and yellow mass slithering up to the ‘garon; with visible intent to be a bother. The Girros alpha was a pushover in the vale, but it was still hare-brained enough to occasionally snap at neighbors. As would be expected, away from the Odogaron’s mouth fell the chunk as it gave a warning snarl, which saw her, quick and quiet as a church mouse, scamper to it, not minding the commotion, to start tugging it away.