We should have breakfast before such a great trek.
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adversely, we should also get a move on before any potential threat arrives on the scene.
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You get up from your slumber and start to get a move on. The pain is starting to throb. It did not feel like this prior; no doubt the adrenaline has ran out. And there is the matter of breakfast. By now, the carcass looks to be swarmed with flies. Something fresher is in order.
Well do not look at me, I am not food, Oliver tells you. I am fine grazing but your hunting will be bad with that wound. Maybe you should try for those eggs? I’ll keep the pteradon away.
Shall we trust his plan, or should we find food on our own?
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Eating the pteranodon eggs under protection sounds like an OK plan.
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“Then they shall be eaten”, you muster.
Climbing the tree is more difficult this time, as the aching of your wounds amplifies. Yet, you manage to press on and get to the tree top. There, you see a mother Pteradon guarding the eggs. You hiss at the Pteradon, and she screeches at you back. Oliver sticks his head into the branches and looks at the Pteradon. But this time, the Pteradon stands her ground, and pecks at Oliver. Oliver rescinds back, hurt by her sharp beak, and she hisses at you again.
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I begin to mutter expletives I have picked up from the humans
How much larger than me is it? And would it be able to tell that I am hurt?
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You are around the same size as her. Your chest certainly had some swelling from the wound that is noticable, so yes.
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Are there any nearby environmental features that my new intelligence could pick up on and use to my advantage?
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You are surrounded by branches, the one you’re on is sturdy but you’re unsure if the weaker ones the pteradon is at can support you.
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Are they weak enough that I could break them with my tail, or have Oliver do this?
You are largely unsure. However, the Pteradon is getting angrier. You may have to think fast.
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How enclosed is this space? Is the Pteranodon able to maneuver with it’s wings or does it rely on the branches?
It can certainly maneuver.
It takes it’s time to strike now, since we have waited. It manages to get a critical hit against you, as it jabs into your arm. The adrenaline rushes again within you.
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shoot the risk of taking another question didn’t pay off
I want to try and violently spin on my branch, slamming the pteranodon with my tail.
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You spin through the air and wap your tail against the pteradon. You managed to slam her off the branch, and you slam the branch where the eggs are. They fall off the branch and land onto the ground. They do not crack; they are leathery and look durable. However, they are now exposed, and the Pteradon is really mad!
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Is this activity attracting attention?
I look around for a way to retreat out of her reach. I hiss and make my tail rigid, hoping my species’ reputation as prime predators is enough to buy time for escape.
pretty please can I make an intimidation check 
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We shall try to intimidate her.
You spread your feathery arms, despite the injury, and give off a terrible boinking sound with your throat. You make sure to present your sharp teeth to the Pteradon.
It is successful! The pteradon backs away, and flies away from danger as she realizes this is not a fight she wishes to be entangled in. You now have her precious eggs to eat as a tasty breakfast, but you have sustained another injury.
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ok it’s late and I have a book to read
I try to eat the eggs in an area of solitude and protection.
the only reason I’m not proud of getting out of that is because I instigated that mess in the first place.
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And you do so. You break them open with your teeth and swallow the yoke and remains whole. It tastes like a hearty meal to you, though a little perverse considering they were her offspring. But it matters not: you have survived in this moment, and the journey to the mountains awaits.
Following Oliver, you begin to pass through the cliffs, but grow tiresome. Oliver opts to carry you on his back instead, so you climb on top and take a rest from there. What a strange sight: a carnivorous Utahraptor becoming friends with a Brontosaurus.
Actually, it is strange that a Utahraptor and Brontosaurus exist at the same time at all, considering the Brontosaurus no longer existed by the time of the cretaceous period when the Utahraptor arose. But it matters not, considering you know something is completely not right with the world presented before you.
You begin to think about the humans, what you once only knew as the strange bipeds. You think about it: are you not also a biped? And also intelligent? If only you were not feathered… No, that is stupid logic. Nevermind that. Still, something intrigues you about the humans.
The recollection you have of them is that they do not like your kind. But is that because your kind eats them? That would make sense. Or perhaps it is another reason. The more you think, the more you realize none of this makes sense. There is knowledge here about the existence of things: you are aware that horses, mice, and cattle should not be in the same world as pteradons and dinosaurs like yourself. In fact, neither should humans.
You remember now: there was once a mass extinction event that wiped out the dinosaurs. From this, mammals grew into dominance and led to the rise of human civilization. Your kind had their time and were eliminated. So why are you here now, with humans? Why can you think and talk like them, despite having the mind of a carnivorous Utahraptor? The more and more you think about it, the more you realize your own existence is horrendously perverse.
Is this all connected to this concept of “Plorg” that you somehow recall the name to? The thoughts disturb you, but not enough to distract you from the pain of your injuries.
Nightfall comes again, and you come to sleep, as well as Oliver. The dreams come once again.
Dreams of the wild hunt, being chased somehow by a strange metallic creature. You are with your brothers, until a large crack is heard in the air. One of them falls. You try and sprint, but the metallic creature is relentless and never tires like you do. Eventually, the world goes black for you.
Then, blinding lights. Strange humans hovering over you, saying things that are entirely indistinguishable. They hold strange tools, and bring them towards you…
You wake up, and notice that Oliver has already carried you toward the mountains. You can see in the distance what appears to be smoke and lights burning during the twilight.
Hang in there little buddy, Oliver says. We are almost there.
What was probably an hour felt like a few minutes due to you passing out again. As you awake, you see the sight of these humans looking at you: tan-skinned folks, wearing strange clothing, and dimorphic for their sexes. What a strange species. The ones with the hair on their faces hold strange sticks and metal objects toward you and Oliver. Wait, no, these are not strange. Those are guns. A familiar weapon to you, for one was used to kill your kin.
Oliver turns to some of the humans. “Can you help my friend here?”
One of the humans, a man with grey hair on his head and face, visibly concerned, holds his arms away from the men and tells them, “put the guns down. This one is herbivorous, it will not harm us. But be watchful for the raptor there.”
“He is injured,” Oliver says. “He is one of my only friends, I just want him to be well again.”
The man crosses his arms. “And aid the enemy? Those raptors have done nothing but kill us. The fact that you are helping him makes me question your judgement, Oliver.”
“He is one of the talkers,” Oliver explains. “Like me. Even if you do not trust him, for the sake of doing the right thing, aid him. Hasn’t your kind said that medical aid is a right of all sentient life?”
“Yes,” the man says, nodding. “But if those ones are sentient now… We are in trouble indeed.”
The grey-haired man, dressed in robes and a strange bandolier over himself, comes up to you, holding a gun. “Speak, creature. Explain your behavior, and promise that you will not attack any of us.”
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Roll for BS.
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