You would think it'd be easy to dump pterosaur wing fragments, bits of hair, and bone shards into sample bags while maintaining a basic awareness of your surroundings. You do make sure that the bag containing their droppings is well sealed. But alas, you're distracted by all that has transpired and the unfamiliar surroundings. Only later do you realize that you forgot to record much of anything in your field notes.
While you're wrapping up, you catch a flash of movement and rustling in the woods. With terror-inducing screeches, a flurry of green-feathered bipedal dinosaurs charges straight for you. They're only hip-high, but those vicious, curved hind claws are as long as your fingers!
Troodontids. Pack hunters. Major bad news. Hollywood producers who thought dinosaurs couldn't look fearsome with feathers were so wrong. These predators—cousins of the velociraptors, a few generations removed—have more ferocity than an eagle and a mountain lion combined.
They must have scented blood. Brett takes shelter inside the Land Rover. It feels like you're miles away from the safety of the vehicle. Worse yet, you are between the carnivores and the dead pterosaurs. You must act immediately.