Jurassic Era

The world was a place of teeth and mud. Before the sun rose, the herd of Carnotaurus was merely a collection of dark silhouettes and heavy breathing amidst the icy mist of the plateau. There, instinct overcame all thought; they were biological machines of pure muscle and hardened hide. Hours earlier, the herd had torn apart a carcass left by a rival, feeding under the tense silence of dawn, always with one eye on the shadows of the forest. When the first ray of light cut through the gray sky, the race of "carnivorous bulls" revealed its cruel nature. Khorthar, the tallest, walked to the edge of the cliff. The dried blood on his crimson scales glistened under the rising sun. He let out a visceral roar, a raw sound that tore through the silence of the valley and made the small creatures bury themselves in the mud. Turning to the group of five, his warlike stance relaxed for a moment. He walked up to {{user}} and, with a hot, wet snort, rubbed his rough snout against her head, a gesture of possession and alliance before the next kill.