Troodontidae – Tyrant King Press

[Fiction] The Beasts of Kulig County, Chapter 7

Gina gunned the engine and twisted the handlebars, barely evading the long, ridged nasal horn of the bull hudu. The Styracosaurus continued to pursue her for a ways, but soon turned back to his herd with one last threatening bellow. Gina laughed to herself as she left the animals behind, heading for the dubious shade of a thicket of slash pines and saw palmettos. A small flock of hypsilophodonts fled the sound of her motorbike, pronking as they ran. She sat on her bike and watched them for a moment before unclipping her canteen from her belt and taking a drink.

[Fiction] The Beasts of Kulig County, Chapter 4

Gina didn’t remember much of what had happened after her jeep had gone into the ditch, but according to the doctor currently shining a light in her eyes she had been found by a couple motorists wandering along the road, dazed and covered in blood. The last thing she remembered was the hopper crashing through her windshield and the world spinning crazily, and then she was taking a reflexive swing at the young nurse trying to stitch up a cut above her right eye and having to be physically restrained until she realized where she was. Thankfully, between the nurse’s good reflexes and her own disorientation, her swing had missed. Between those two events though, things got fuzzy.

[Fiction] The Beasts of Kulig County, Chapter 3

“Keeping an eye out up there, Maggie?”

In the cockpit of her Damselfly, Maggie Ovo looked out over the prairie and shook her head. “Everything looks clear up here,” she said into her headset’s microphone as she passed her little helicopter above the herd. “Just mgonzi and you shitkickers.”

[Fiction] Long Winter Night, Chapter 3

He didn’t know what had woken him up. All was silent outside, or at least too muffled by their snowy tomb for them to hear. What had woken him up?

There it was again: the sound that his ears had deemed important enough to pull him out of sleep for. He heard a deep snuffling, followed by a scraping crunch. Something was digging its way in. Ben was suddenly acutely aware of the smell of blood on his clothes. Quickly he dug out his revolver, made sure it was loaded, and shook Finch awake. She grabbed her rifle and pointed it at the sound, and in the fading light of the glowstick they saw snow begin to flake from the wall. More and more snow fell, until finally there was a violent cascade as the animal broke though. A snout was thrust through the screen of pine needles, covered with dark mottled scales, gray and brown feathers, and topped with a blunt, horny boss. It could only belong to a grendol.