The Grazing Lands

The jungle opened before him like a curtain parting to reveal a hidden world. He emerged from the thick foliage, his body still as he took in the scene ahead.

A vast clearing stretched out before him, bathed in the golden light of the setting sun. The air was alive with movement and sound—not the subtle rustles of the jungle but the steady rhythm of creatures grazing, walking, and drinking.

Dinosaurs.

They were everywhere. Towering herbivores with long necks reached high into the trees, plucking leaves with surprising delicacy. Smaller ones, no taller than his chest, moved in herds, their heads dipping into a nearby stream. Flying creatures with leathery wings glided above, their cries echoing through the clearing.

It was a sight both surreal and magnificent.

He stepped closer, his feet silent against the soft earth. None of the creatures noticed him—not yet. They were too focused on their grazing, their movements deliberate but peaceful.

His stomach growled again, louder this time, pulling his thoughts back to the gnawing hunger that had been with him since he woke. His eyes drifted to the nearest herbivore, a stout creature with thick, scaly skin and a broad beak. It tore at the grass, oblivious to his presence.

What would it taste like? The thought was unbidden, but it lingered. His body was calm, his mind clear, but the primal need for food was undeniable.

He crouched low, watching the creature. It wasn't large—not like the towering ones further away—but it was big enough to be a challenge. He glanced around, searching for anything he could use as a weapon.

A stone caught his eye, its edge jagged and sharp. He picked it up, testing its weight in his hand. It wasn't much, but it would have to do.

The creature remained unaware of him, its head down as it grazed. He took a step forward, then another, each movement slow and deliberate. The world seemed to narrow, the sounds of the clearing fading as he focused on his target.

But then, a new sound shattered the calm.

A deep, guttural growl came from the far side of the clearing. The herbivores froze, their heads snapping up in unison. Even the flying creatures stilled, their cries silenced.

The predator had arrived.

He turned toward the sound, his grip tightening on the stone. From the shadows of the trees emerged a massive dinosaur, its sleek, muscular frame built for hunting. Its eyes scanned the clearing, and its jaws parted to release another growl that sent the herbivores into a panic.

The clearing erupted into chaos.

The smaller dinosaurs scattered, their hooves thundering against the ground as they fled. The larger ones moved more slowly, their sheer size making escape a challenge. The predator didn't hesitate, its powerful legs propelling it forward as it zeroed in on its prey.

He stood frozen, watching the scene unfold. The predator's speed was breathtaking, its movements precise and efficient. It closed the distance to its target—a young herbivore—within seconds, its claws sinking deep into the creature's flank.

The herbivore let out a pained cry before collapsing, its body limp. The predator stood over its kill, its jaws tearing into the flesh with savage efficiency.

And yet, even as the carnage unfolded, he felt no fear.

The calm within him remained, unshaken by the violence. He turned his gaze back to the scattered herbivores, many of which had fled deeper into the jungle. But a few remained, their fear keeping them rooted in place.

His hunger flared again, sharper now. The predator's feast only reminded him of his own need to eat.

He gripped the stone tightly and stepped forward, his eyes locked on a smaller herbivore that had strayed too far from the others.

Survival wasn't a choice. It was a necessity.