Guido hesitated for several seconds, as if he were still trying to comprehend that his friends wanted to
help this pair of mysterious nest robbers. Eventually, though, he seemed to realize that almost everyone had left without him, and with a cry of, “Hey, wait for me!” he took off in pursuit.
--------------------------------------------------
Pangaea saw Sparky waving at him out of the corner of his eye, but he figured that waving back might upset his flight pattern. So instead he just smiled back at her, craning his neck slightly downward and twisting his head to the side so that his face would be more visible from below. This position was slightly less aerodynamic, but it didn’t significantly effect the stability of his glide.
It did, however, affect Pangaea’s ability to perceive what was in front of him.
In this case, a green
Archaeopteryx sleeping in the tree ahead of him, on the same branch Pangaea was going to land on.
Moments before his anticipated alightment on the tree which he had scoped out from several yards away (too far to have noticed its feathery, camouflaged occupant), Pangaea turned his head to face forward again. Several things then happened in quick succession: A squawk of surprise from Pangaea as he spotted the
Archaeopteryx. The bird’s eyes snapping open in response, an instant before it let out an alarmed cry of its own. A small explosion of red and green feathers commemorating the second collision between two feathered creatures of those colors seen in the Great Valley in the past two days. And finally, a racket of squawks of alternating aggravation and pain (from two respective sources), mixed with the sounds of a flurry of rapid, plumage-cushioned blows, as a cranky
Archaeopteryx railed on the bumbling
Microraptor with beak, claws, wings, and syrinx* alike.
Normally, Pangaea would have been thrilled to encounter a live
Archaeopteryx. This time, however…well, he was still thrilled, but he also wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible.
“Sorry, sorry!” Pangaea whimpered meekly as he rushed to jump from another branch. His apologies seemed to be of no avail, however, as the
Archaeopteryx’s beating wings and furiously pecking toothy beak continued to hammer him. “Didn’t mean to land on you thereóOw! It was an accident! Ow, ow, ow!” Pangaea couldn’t really blame the
Archaeopteryx; it was probably frightened, perhaps thinking that Pangaea had been attacking it. It couldn’t have been too happy about being so rudely awoken from its sleep, either. Heck, it might have even had a nest or something; Pangaea hadn’t been able to see whether that was the case.
Now that would be irony for ya, he thought.
On my way to save a couple of dinosaurs from getting in trouble for raiding a nest, I get in trouble for “attacking” a nest. A blow from the
Archaeopteryx’s beak right on the top of his skull threw Pangaea from his train of thought. Pangaea clenched his teeth. That one
really hurt. Not wasting any more time, he launched himself into the air.
But the
Archaeopteryx wasn’t finished with him yet. And although it was slightly smaller than Pangaea, it had an advantage over him in the air: the capacity for powered flight. This information was brought to Pangaea’s attention when he felt a nip on his tail in mid-flight; he glanced over his shoulder to see the
Archaeopteryx chasing him.
“Aw, c’mon!” he complained. “Look at me, I’m leaving! You can go back to your nap now!”
The
Archaeopteryx only flapped its wings faster, speeding up until it was flying directly above Pangaea. Its beak then darted down and plucked a feather from Pangaea’s back.
“Yeow!” Pangaea yelped. “I told you, I’m sorry! I totally acknowledge you as the boss! Please, just leave me alone!”
The only response he got was a series of loud, shrill caws from the pursuing bird. Pangaea started in surprise as these were answered by a chorus of identical cries from the trees around him, and as he heard the rustle of many wings taking to the air, he suddenly realized that the situation had gotten several times worse. The cawing continued, and a glimpse out of the corners of his eyes dispelled all doubts. A small flock of
Archaeopteryx was descending on the fleeing
Microraptor. Apparently, like many modern birds,
Archaeopteryx practiced mobbing behavior.
Pangaea muttered what would probably be considered the appropriate response for anyone in his position:
“Oh, crap.”
*That’s the avian equivalent of vocal cords, for those who don’t know.
