Playtime

122 Million years BCE

Texas

Midday

Despite popular opinion, large carnivores often lead boring lives.

Take one of the largest to ever have lived, for example. Acrocanthosaurus atokensis, able to reach eleven meters in length and weighing up to six metric tons, didn’t need to eat so often once it reached adulthood. Our particular specimen, a fifteen-year-old male, has just finished dining on the carcass of an adolescent Astrodon: a long-necked giant in its own right, but easy prey for a creature with five-inch claws on his hand. His efficient metabolism also means that he may not need to kill for another month or so. Even so, he’s not prone to sharing with older, more aggressive males, so he grabs his prey by the neck with his powerful jaws and drags it away from its resting spot in the open fern prairie towards the edge of the forest, his two-meter-high spine arching over the prehistoric landscape.

Our Acrocanthosaurus lives during a remarkable time in North America’s history. The start of the mighty Cretaceous period, this age is remarkably cooler than the previous Jurassic, and ice has started forming glaciers to the north. This has dried the ancient Pacific, forming an arctic land-bridge that has allowed Asian species to cross east to the new world for the first time in eighty million years. The newly-formed caps also release enormous amounts of moisture during the summers, forming lush floodplains through the center of the continent. One day, this will form a vast, shallow sea, but for now, it is a time of plenty for the animals that make their home here, including the dinosaurs.

None of that matters much to our creature, though. The only thing that drives his brain at the moment are survival, and getting his food into the shade will make it much more comfortable.

At last, he reaches the forest front. Letting the prey’s long neck drop, he pants in relief and exhaustion. It may have only been a distance of a hundred meters or so, but heaving the extra ten tons is more work than one Acro is really meant to do on his own. But now, he is in the cooler shadows, and out of sight of most plain-dwelling animals.

Before he lies down for his afternoon nap, he first needs to scratch. He plods over to the nearest tree and rubs his massive side firmly against it, prying off any dead skin and parasites that may have latched on.

“Drub-drub-drub”

Wrong tree.

Pine cones, shaken loose by the scratching, pelt the still-sore Acro. With a deep grunt, he side-steps away. He’s still not entirely satiated, but he isn’t quite ready for another bombardment. So, our giant stumbles away towards his resting spot, defeated.

The Acro picks a spot a few meters away from his kill, just to keep it in sight, and lets his gigantic body fall to the ground. With a thud and crackle of undergrowth, he sits down, now a three-meter-high ridge in the forest. Now that he’s certain no predator can harm him, he lays down his head to close his eyes, ready to regain all his lost energy for the day.

*   *   *

Not even an hour later, a chorus of chirping and squeaking disturbs our Acro. With a groan, he opens his heavy eyelids to see what the trouble is.

A family of Deinonychus antirrhopus is investigating the kill. These animals are relative newcomers to the world of the Acro, but they have already proven themselves to be quite the nuisance. Standing a meter and a half in height, dressed to the brim with insulating feathers, and wielding a 12-centemeter-long claw on each foot, they are also devilishly smart by dinosaur standards, and efficient opportunists. Even so, the two adults, a mating pair, know better than to confront an animal twenty times their weight. They still nibble at the carcass, but they keep their distance from the slumbering giant.

The four chicks, on the other hand, have no such fear. Like the Acro, they have had their fill, but their attention is now drawn to the snoring mountain of flesh next to it. The little grey tufts of protofeather climb all around their new friend, bickering and squealing at each other. The parents keep a close eye on them, but as long as the giant keeps still, the four are happy.

Two of the chicks suddenly break into a squabble right next to the Acro’s sensitive ears. He swings his massive head towards them: mouth closed, but it’s enough to scatter them and frighten the parents. With a screech and a flurry of feathers, they disappear into the ferns.

The Acro grunts and lays his head back down. With some peace and quiet, maybe he can fall back to sleep.

Only minutes pass this time. Acro hasn’t even fallen asleep yet when he feels small, padded feet prance across his back again. The distressed parents nearby are calling their children furiously, but all four of the chicks have wandered back to their plaything. Now they’ve found their game, and neither team knows who is really in charge.

One of the chicks takes a nibble at the Acro’s spine. The giant turns his snout and hisses at the children, all of which jump off and rush to the side, but not as far and still staring at their ‘friend’. He doesn’t even get the chance to lie down again before they’ve already jumped back on top of him. The next few minutes are a frustrating cycle of being waken up, warding the intruders off, and lying back down only to wake up again.

At this point, the Acro is getting frustrated. He could easily snap one of the animals in two with the sheer weight of his skull, but the chicks are making a strong point to avoid his face, just to see how much he can be annoyed.

Devilishly smart indeed.

One of the chicks makes a habit of running back and forth across the creature from the tip of his tail to the top of his arching spine. With a little “pip”, the youngster slips and falls forward, landing belly-first onto the giant’s face. Her little snout staring right into the Acro’s bloodshot eyes, she instinctively digs her claws into the ridge of his snout.

This was enough.

All of the raptors scatter as the Acro raises himself to full height, growling in fury. The chick clings on for her dear life as she is shaken violently by the beast, not knowing that she is probably in the most dangerous place she can be.

With a crash, Acro rams his head into a nearby tree. This is finally enough to fling the chick away, but a flurry of pine cones is sent careening into the giant’s hide. He screams as loud as he can as the seeds pry into the new scars.

He shakes off the pain as best he can, but by the time he opens his eyes, all six Deinonychus are gone. Vanished without a trace.

Good riddance.

He stumbles back over to his resting spot, now more exhausted than before. He’s still bitter, but now that the forest is quiet again, he can resume his rest. With a thud and a snort, he closes his eyes, trying to resume his rest.

But the chicks have found their new plaything, and they are excellent climbers.

“Pub-pub-pub”