The Baby Dinosaur
The nest of green-speckled eggs beckons. You know you shouldn’t be here—she can’t have abandoned them—but you draw nearer. A dull tapping like bare feet running on a wooden floor sounds from one of the eggs. A loud crack and something light-green slithers out. The long neck stretches. The mouth opens. A wail. An answering roar. The ground beneath you shakes. Trees fall and shrubs bend for the approaching mother. You cast one last glance at the baby dinosaur before you turn and run.
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