dutchsonjaa

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A little thing for the fic ‘What World Have We Inherited?’ finale!! It was an amazing journey o7

(First piece I made for this, almost a year ago ;;)

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the comments on this video killed me

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Tips for Writing a Difficult Scene

Every writer inevitably gets to that scene that just doesn't want to work. It doesn't flow, no matter how hard you try. Well, here are some things to try to get out of that rut:

1. Change the weather

I know this doesn't sound like it'll make much of a difference, but trust me when I say it does.

Every single time I've tried this, it worked and the scene flowed magically.

2. Change the POV

If your book has multiple POV characters, it might be a good idea to switch the scene to another character's perspective.

9/10 times, this will make the scene flow better.

3. Start the scene earlier/later

Oftentimes, a scene just doesn't work because you're not starting in the right place.

Perhaps you're starting too late and giving too little context. Perhaps some description or character introspection is needed before you dive in.

Alternatively, you may be taking too long to get to the actual point of the scene. Would it help to dive straight into the action without much ado?

4. Write only the dialogue

If your scene involves dialogue, it can help immensely to write only the spoken words the first time round.

It's even better if you highlight different characters' speech in different colors.

Then, later on, you can go back and fill in the dialogue tags, description etc.

5. Fuck it and use a placeholder

If nothing works, it's time to move on.

Rather than perpetually getting stuck on that one scene, use a placeholder. Something like: [they escape somehow] or [big emotional talk].

And then continue with the draft.

This'll help you keep momentum and, maybe, make the scene easier to write later on once you have a better grasp on the plot and characters.

Trust me, I do this all the time.

It can take some practice to get past your Type A brain screaming at you, but it's worth it.

So, those are some things to try when a scene is being difficult. I hope that these tips help :)

Reblog if you found this post useful. Comment with your own tips. Follow me for similar content.

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Happy Halloween! To celebrate, I’ve dumped 15 of my favourite mini horror short stories on Imgur, including unreleased material that’s not supposed to come out for a couple months. Here are 7 stories from that set! The rest are here: https://imgur.com/gallery/dUkk6

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Lads on tour

some close ups and a version with effects:

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Windy (Unmute !)

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Unmute !

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yippee

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How to Write Dialogue for (most) Dream SMP Characters

A few months ago, I remembered seeing a lot of posts giving advice on how to write dialogue for DSMP Characters. And while those posts contained numerous helpful pointers, overall, they fall just short of capturing what it means to write in a character’s Voice.

Unique character Voices, while tricky to get right, are usually achieved by giving each character a distinct set of words to say, in a manner that distinguishes them from the rest of the cast. 

With this in mind, I’ve spent the past few days combing through almost Thirty Hours of VOD footage to collect nearly all of the unique words, phrases, and speaking habits of every major and minor character on the Dream SMP (involved in 2+ story arcs.)

Before Reading:

Sentence-Starters are single words or phrases which begin a sentence. (ie. “Y’know, maybe you should try something different.”) 

Sentence Paddings are reoccurring words added to the middle of sentences. (ie. “It’s like he just can’t cry.”) 

Sentence Endings are single words or phrases which end a sentence. (ie. “There’s no need to fight, I hope.”)

All three of these types can be combined with one another to create more natural-sounding sentences. For instance, if a character has the two Sentence-Starters “Okay” and “So,” they can be used like this; “Okay, so, I’m a bit worried.”

(Note: When certain traits or phrases aren’t obvious with how they should be applied to dialogue, an (ie.) will be added below to illustrate them.)

Wilbur

General Traits:

Repeats himself for emphasis. Sometimes these repetitions will add additional information. More often, this repetition is focused around a specific word with the circumstance of the sentence being changed each time.

ie. “I’m living in an eternal limbo again. I’ve been through limbo, I’m out of limbo, and socially, I’m still in this limbo.”

Highly eloquent in language, bordering on poetic.

Highly introspective; significantly less so after Eret’s betrayal and onward.

Occasionally makes literary analogies and references, sometimes breaking the Fourth Wall to do so.

Curses semi-frequently. Wilbur is the only known character to use the word “cunt,” although rare.

Common Go-To Swears - Fuck, Shit, Prick, Bastard, Hell, Ass (Including all variations and combinations.)

Tends to hum when he thinks to himself.

Stutters most often when offended, shocked, or surprised.

Generally addresses characters semi-formally, often by title or role.

Often slips into long-form monologues when self-reflecting.

Usually defaults to being the head of a conversation; introducing, managing, and elaborating on topics throughout, especially when speaking to three or more people.

Circumstantial Phrases:

You and I, we’re ━ (To connect positively with someone.)

ie. “You and I, we’re used to seeing the good in people.”

I wanna pick your brain / Can I pick your brain? (To ask about someone else.)

Don’t say that, I’ll cry (Affectionate banter, only to Tommy.)

I’m afraid ━ (When hopeless or delivering bad news.)

ie. “I’m afraid there’s no getting out of this now.”

There’s no reason to ━ / There’s no reason for ━ / There’s no need for ━  (When being threatened or breaking up a fight.)

ie. “There’s no need for violence, gentlemen.”

Lees verder

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Writing advice from my uni teachers:

If your dialog feels flat, rewrite the scene pretending the characters cannot at any cost say exactly what they mean. No one says “I’m mad” but they can say it in 100 other ways.

Wrote a chapter but you dislike it? Rewrite it again from memory. That way you’re only remembering the main parts and can fill in extra details. My teacher who was a playwright literally writes every single script twice because of this.

Don’t overuse metaphors, or they lose their potency. Limit yourself.

Before you write your novel, write a page of anything from your characters POV so you can get their voice right. Do this for every main character introduced.

[dutchsonjaa]

He never got to enjoy his afternoon tea.

Philza’s POV on the ending of the Dream SMP. 1448 words AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43111627 Huge thanks to my friends @energy-emi1y and  @Bokuaka_Official on AO3!

He’d just put the kettle on the fire, preparing it for a nice cup of afternoon tea after an hard day of working outside in the cold, the snow that he dragged in through his boots now laying in half-molten puddles on their hard wooden floor. The lullaby he’d been murmuring as he picked through his stockpile of teabags, neatly stored in an hand-carved basket, searching for something he’d have an taste for halted abruptly in his throat as his gaze found the missile. Gazing through the open window, Philza felt his shoulders sag as he watched the projectile ascend high into the sky until it was finally lost beyond the low-hanging clouds of an cold afternoon. Hands trembling with dread, the man put the casket down before he could lose his grip on it. He’d always known that the long-lasting skirmish between Tommy and the pretend-God would eventually end the world. He never could’ve known it literally would.

             The shrill whistle of the kettle filled the room, signaling to Philza that his tea was ready. The noise startled some of the crows, perched on the shelves around the room. Phil let out a small crow in an half-hearted attempt to calm them as he allowed his mind to wander. The tea would never be cool enough in time to drink anyway. It just didn’t matter anymore. Just the other day had he met the golden-haired boy, finding him at his son’s memorial, startling the lad as the Angel of Death had descended the sky with the intent to pay his own respects to the shrine. If Tommy rapidly swept the tears away that shone in the young man’s eyes, Philza had chosen not to comment on that. He’d had let plenty of tears fall when he’d visited this site himself. There had been something fierce in Tommy’s gaze that day; a feral determination that made his sapphire-blue eyes burn like an cold, undying fire as he spoke of his plan. With their goodbyes said, did Philza had watch him go, the lad now armed with the armor and the blessing he presented him. Only after Tommy had turned his back, did Philza whisper an prayer to his late wife to keep the golden-haired man safe.

The murder of crows, the ever-so loyal flock Philza’d affectionately been calling ‘Chat’, were truly panicking now, sensing the impending doom. Their terrified caws seemed to even drown out the still sound of the whistle of the kettle, left behind to burn out on the stove. Philza let out a weary sign; he knew time was running short. The explosion would soon be upon them, destroying everything in its wake. Blowing a short, shrill whistle to his birds, he quickly gained their attention. Black beady eyes fixed on the man as they awaited his command, bristling their wings as they anticipated his words. “Go find Wilbur”, the Angel of Death breathed, his voice sounding stronger than he felt. The sound of flapping wings filled the room as the birds took wing for the open sky as they found their way through the unlocked window. There’d be no more time for goodbyes or I love you’s. It pained Philza deeply to know that he should’ve said it more when there was still time. His son had inherited his mother’s brain though, he’d have to understand. Philza hoped he would understand. The man watched the second-to-last crow reach for the open sky, finding their way to wherever Philza’s son resided. The Angel of Death’s fallen descendant would at last be getting his feathers.

             Only one crow remained, as Philza knew he would. Dave, the smallest of the flock, that Philza himself hand-fed and nursed back to health after finding the bird, still just a chick back then, freezing and alone in the winter’s cold. The bird had never really adhered to his commands, nor would he now. Little crow-feet landed on Philza’s shoulder as he tenderly nibbled at his ear. With the bird now happily perched on his shoulder, did Philza found his way to the bed chambers where he knew he’d find his friend resting. Technoblade was right where he’d expected him to be. His pupil, his ally, his best friend, would truly sleep through everything. Even the end of the world, Philza thought, though he suppressed the bleak thought almost immediately. The Piglin-Hybrid lay in a deep slumber, his chest gently rising and falling, blissfully unaware of the situation going outside his personal dream world. He looked so peaceful, Philza realized, giving him a feeling of tranquility as he eyed his friend snore softly in his sleep. They still had one Totem of Undying left; the last one remaining after the failed attempts of trying to resurrect Philza’s son, so many moons ago.

             Philza briefly considered shoving the figure into the Hybrid’s hands; saving his friends life. Yet when he watched the man he’d almost consider a second son rest so peacefully, his gaze untroubled, he recognized he couldn’t, even though the thought made his heart break even more. Technoblade would never truly forgive the Angel, nor would he let himself forget, if he were to survive. Instead, the Piglin-Hybrid would waste the rest of his days trying to find a way to resurrect his winged friend; just as he had already done for their fallen friend and member of the Syndicate, Ranboo. No, as much as the thought brought him sorrow, he knew it’d be a kinder fate to let his Technoblade rest alongside him. They’d both reconcile with their Enderman friend soon enough. Philza had to bite his cheek from screaming out in agony, the tear in his heart growing with the weight of his decision as he picked up the blanket from the ground which his friend had thrown off him in his sleep. With trembling hands, he gently tucked in his friend, suppressing the urge to give the other man a peck on the cheek like he used to do with Wil, back when his son still needed him. Delicately stroking a few pink strands of hair away from his friend’s face, he smiled down affectionately at his friend. A single tear ran down his cheek.

It’d be almost time soon. Philza strode towards the stairs, sparing the resting figure of his dearest friend one last glance as he desperately tried to ignore the lump in his throat. Finding his way through their cabin, Philza passed by the portraits of his son and his son’s best friend. He kept walking. The whistling of the kettle had ceased; apparently having given up on gaining his attention. His coat he left hanging on the coatrack as he kicked open the front door, welcoming the icy wind from outside enveloping him. The outside world was eerily quiet; all animals had fled in their attempt to survive. Some would make it to safety. The fresh layer of snow cracked underneath his boots as Philza’s scanned the horizon for the missile, finding it on it already to be on its descent soon enough. His final flight would have to be a short one.           Spreading out his wings, ignoring the freezing cold ruffling his plumage, threatening to freeze his smaller feathers, rendering them useless, did Philza take off, scattering the powdery snow surrounding him around with a powerful beat of his wings. He knew that if he turned his gaze towards the air next to him, he’d find Dave, joining him in his final ascend to the horizon. Instead, Philza kept his eyes locked on the clouds, blocking off the sun from view. Though struggling as the air grew thinner around him and his still-healing wings aching, was Philza determined to make it. He let out a yowl as he finally broke through the clouds, enjoying himself despite everything. Dave followed shortly after, cawing happily as the bird flew in circles around him. It was pleasant up here, above the clouds. The sun felt warm upon his face and Philza allowed himself to enjoy this brief moment of peace. Somewhere in the distance, somewhere far down below him on the earth, did he hear the dull sound of an explosion. The Angel of Death exhaled before folding his wings behind him, letting himself fall. Philza did not know if the fall would kill him or the blast of the explosion. The fear still lay deep in his chest as he crashed through the clouds, Dave not far behind as the bird followed him in their final dive. As the ground rushed towards him, the man closed his eyes. He knew his late wife would catch him. Philza never got to enjoy his afternoon tea.

#mcyt #MCYT fandom #dreamsmp #dream smp #philza minecraft #ph1lza #sbi #sleepybois inc #sleepy bois fanfic #tommyinnit #tommy innit #emerald duo #technoblade #wilbursoot #wilbur soot #c!philza #c!tommy #c!technoblade #c!wilbur #ranboo

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If I think too much about it (villaininnit au) I can’t breathe~

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a foreign gentleness

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Probably going to delete this soon as there’s probably a reason why it was removed-

But someone reuploaded the VOD! <3

#tommyinnit #tommy innit #tom simons #jamesmarriot #james marriot #dsmp #mcyt #dreamsmp

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Tommy no-

#tommyinnit #tommy innit #wilbursoot #wilbur soot #crimeboys #dsmp #sad-ist #mcyt

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pet pet :3

reblog to pet the sad cat 　　　　　　 ＿＿ 　　　　　／＞　　フ 　　　　　|  　_　 _ l 　 　　　／` ミ＿xノ 　　 　 /　　　 　 | 　　　 /　 ヽ　　 ﾉ 　 　 │　　|　|　| 　／￣|　　 |　|　| 　| (￣ヽ＿_ヽ_)__) 　＼二つ

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The Isle: The ways of the Utahraptor.

Words: 3071 AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/37497418

A young female Utahraptor her eyes against the ferns brushing past her snout as she quietly stalked through the overgrowth, zeroing in on the female Dilophosaurus which had invaded their hunting grounds. The Utah would have to be careful, she knew, for the Dilophosaurus was a fearsome opponent, one they’d much rather avoid an confrontation with. Yet, after their Matriach, a formidable Raptor with a while-scaled skin littered with scars, had been stalking it, it became clear that this one seemed intent on building a nest on their territory. Heavy with eggs, it seemed like the Dilophosaurus would be due any day now, but the Utahraptor wouldn’t feel any remorse for the unborn Hatchlings still in their mother’s belly. It was just the law of nature.

They were close now, the female Utahraptor and the hunting party she was leading, almost close enough for them to launch an attack without having to put up a chase. The female felt her heart pound in her chest. Just one error on her end could cost her packmates early. She wouldn’t make any mistakes. The dark-green scales that covered her body, practically black, rendered her almost invisible in the night’s sky, making her nearly impossible to spot between the shrubbery.  She wasn’t the biggest of the pack, fully grown just under 7 meters of length, having been the smallest of her litter, born in the midst of Winter after her mother had returned pregnant from her little ‘adventure’. This female and her sister had been the only one to make it to adulthood, her sister having been killed the year prior in a fight for leadership over the pack with their current Matriach. The female’s speed made up where she lacked in size however, and she had become a respected member of the pack.

A shrill shriek cut through the night’s air, as a Velociraptor, a little beast known to be preying on the smaller and weaker dinos, shot from the bush, making the Dilophosaurus head dart up in alarm, tasting the air as it scanned the undergrowth suspiciously. The female Raptor eyed the young male, an unexperienced yearling that had made his way to their pack in hopes of finding a mate, as he slinked back into the thicket, not yet spotted, but the female knew it wouldn’t take long for the Dilophosaurus to catch on to his scent. Indicating the plan to her packmates surrounding her with a signal with her tail, she leaped from the brush with an intimidating cry, charging towards the Dilophosaurus as the shrubbery sprang to life around her.

After the fight, a pair of Utahs found themselves basking in the morning’s sun, sitting on one of the rusty sea-containers in the midst of the abandoned human structure, now long abandoned. The younger of the two was busy with nursing her injured leg, sustained in the fight against the Dilophosaurus the previous night, now just a corpse, dragged by them to the middle of their territory as the Matriach was now picking through it for the juiciest pieces before allowing her pack to feast upon the scraps left behind. The young female was just about to doze off, content to sleep the day away in the warmth of the sun, when a shadow fell upon her. Opening one eye, she quickly bit back the snarl that rumbled in her throat as the Matriach sat herself down beside her. Stretching, the female quickly started grooming herself to look presentable, feeling slightly embarrassed by her appearance, when a short chirp from the Matriach made her look up. Her tongue still sticking out, she followed her elder’s gaze as a trio of males entered the territory. The Matriach had already continued grooming her as the female watched the three mingle amongst her packmates, chittering and barking as they looked amongst the female raptors for a suitable mate. With the mating season now upon them, this was a reoccurring theme. The males would find a female, mate with them and provide them with food and care until the Hatchlings could eat solid food, before either deciding to leave and go back to wandering, or stay with the female of their choosing, becoming a permanent member of their pack before either of them died. The young female had hit the age of maternity the year prior, but had rejected every male that approached her, not being too fond of the idea of being stuck in the nursery for weeks at a time. This year however, with a sickness that had run through their pack, leaving many females still too frail to lay their eggs, she’d have a duty to enfill. It’d be her first litter of eggs.

Her gaze had landed on one of the males, currently occupied with mock-fighting with one of the young males born in the late summer of the year prior, while testing the youngling’s fighting skills as he did so. This male was a bit older than her, and she wouldn’t be his first, but his previous litter had been big and strong. He’d be as good as a choice as any. Leaping from the container she had been perched upon, landing softly in the sand, she gracefully approached the male, chirping to gather his attention to her. He was a bit taller than her, strong muscles visible beneath his skin. A few deep scars ran across his muzzle, white lines in contrast to his brown scales. The female felt her heartbeat quicken as he lifted his gaze to meet her, as she waited for his approval a few meters in front of him. He walked around her, inspecting her muscles and strength, before letting out a small chirp and engaging in a mating dance. The female followed his movements willingly, albeit a bit nervously, before nuzzling his chest, feeling his hot breath in her neck as he returned the gesture. She’d be his mate.

Most males were pretty adamant to mate with their female in the middle of their territory, for all to see, to show their claim over ‘their woman’. This one surprised her by flicking his tail, gesturing for her to follow him. He led her to a small clearing just outside of the concrete walls surrounding the human structure they had made their home in, sitting her down in a patch of grass, before running off into the woods. Puzzled, the female kept sitting where he left her, grooming her chest as she waited. He returned soon after, carrying a gorgeous blue wildflower between his jaws. Chirping in delight, she took the flower from him, swallowing it whole as he preened her neck. When she was done, he stepped back, tilting his head slightly as he looking at her questioningly, and she knew he was asking her for permission. Her eyes glistening, she stepped up to him, purring loudly. There was no hesitation anymore. She would have his offspring. He gave her a few small, loving bites in the neck as she approved of him, as she purred loudly to show her content. As they became mates, all she could feel was love.

The female rested her head on her forepaws as she lay in her nest, bored out of her mind. The extra weight of the eggs in her belly made her feel fat and clumsy, so all she could do was lay around all day. Her mate provided her with all the love and care she could wish for, going the extra mile to catch her favorite prey for her. Her nest was littered with Orodromeus feathers and soft moss to keep the eggs warm when it was time to lay them, and her mate wouldn’t leave her side as her due date grew closer. When the pains finally hit and she instinctively crouched down over her nest, he was at her side to distract her from the pain, albeit unsuccessfully, and comfort her.

Her mate pushed one of the eggs closer to her side before nuzzling her lovingly as they gazed upon their offspring. Her first litter was a small one, having lain only three eggs, but she loved them with all her heart. The Matriach, once again pregnant with a litter herself, had blessed them, ignoring the female’s instinctive snarls as she came too close to her litter. Her eggs would be due any day now too, so she had made her nest close to the new couple, giving the Hatchlings the chance to mingle amongst each other once hatched.

The female was dozing when she felt the first egg move and watched as a crack appeared on its shell. Barking at the Utah standing watch at the entrance to the nursery to fetch her mate, knowing that he’d want to be there, she held her breath a second crack appeared. The Matriach, laying in the nest next to her, her tail protectively curled around five eggs, opened one eye to a slit to watch.                    The female’s mate came running in as a tiny snout pressed through the protective covering, letting out a tiny squeak as the Hatchling within breathed in the air for the first time. The female felt her heart glow inside her chest, her mate pressed at her side, as they watched their offspring be born. The smallest girl needed a little help escaping the casing, and all of them needed a thorough bath, but soon enough all three Hatchlings sat squeaking contently in the warm nest, surrounded by their loving parents and a few curious packmates.

Their children grew quickly, almost too quickly, if you were to ask the female. Their bites as they pounced on tails of their parents started to become painful, and as an experienced father, the male had to convince his mate to let them try real meat, not the partially digested stuff anymore. The one boy seemed hesitant to eat, begging his parents for something else, but after some encouragement and taking the first tiny bite of the Orodromeus lain down before them, the child swore he’d be the first of his family to catch one.

If only he’d gotten the chance to. The Hatchlings grew into Juvelines as the days turned into weeks and it became time for their first hunting lesson, taught by their parents as by tradition. All it took was one second for him to get snatched up by a Velociraptor when his parents weren’t looking. His shrill shrieks as he was carried off by the little predator sounded through the air before being cut off as his parents desperately tried to find him. It was an tradition for the pack to eat the bodies of the deceased, as it was their belief that would strengthen their memory, but they were never even able to find the little one’s corpse.

The female was heartbroken. She lay curled in on herself on her favorite spot on one of the containers, watching her two remaining daughters play in a little patch of sunlight. She would never let them out of her sight again. Her packmates had tried to ease her grief, telling her that those things just happen, that not all Juvelines make it to adulthood. Deep down, she knew that they had been right. She had seen it happen before, had even seen some Juvelines survive the attack only for them to succumb from their injuries later on. Her mate had pledged to stay with her, hunted for her and guided her to the stream which cut through the land just outside the gates for her to drink, when she was too deep into her grief for her to move. Even when she pleaded with him to leave her, as she swore she would never have offspring again after the loss of her first son, did he stay.

She had panicked when she woke up one morning and couldn’t find her two daughters. Barking for them to reveal themselves, waking up the whole pack as she did so, she eventually found them, entering back through the gates with their father, a prey item hanging from each their jaws. She had attacked her mate then, clawing at him, nipping at his chest and snarling obscenities. All he did was block her attacks from doing too much harm, although some drops of blood did splatter on the ground as the Matriach herded their daughters away. Even when she finally tired and broke down, did he lay with her until she could breathe normally again. The next day she would reluctantly agree to allow her daughters to learn on how to hunt.

 The winter had been a rough one, freezing over the stream and forcing them to have to forage further from their territory in the search of food. The female had watched her mate grow weak as he was battling an illness, caused by the lack of food and nutrients. The same weakness had claimed the life of their Matriach, whom had been too busy to make sure her pack was fed and healthy to take the required rest, finally succumbing to her illness one cold winter night, as she died suffocating in her nest. One of her daughters from a previous litter, though grief-stricken, had taken up her lead and had shown promise that, despite her inexperience, she’d be a great Matriach someday.

The female cut off the screech of the Psittacosaurus, content with her kill as she felt it’s hot blood run over her jaws. Proudly, she lifted her tail triumphally. She had been sitting as still as a statue for as long as it took, waiting for the little Herbivore to finally leave its burrow so she could snatch it. Her mate would love this, she knew. He’d been recovering well from the illness that had claimed many, but still needed a lot of rest until he would be back until his full strength. After everything he’d done for her, she’d be happy to provide that.

As she entered the gates, she passed one of her daughters, letting out a small purr in greeting. Her daughter returned the greeting before tasting the air in search of some prey. The female watched her go, concern on her face. Her youngest had shown interest in leaving the pack when she hit maturity and going to wander. The female knew she’d have to let them both go sometimes. Both daughters had grown up so very quickly, and although not yet fully grown, had turned out to be two formidable Utahraptors. Still, she wished she had been able to see her son grow up too.

The weather was slowly growing warmer again, promising a hot spring this year. The female knew another mating season would soon upon them, and some of the females were already growing a bit restless. The litters from the previous years would sit this one out, not yet old enough to bear children themselves. Instead, they would watch, and learn so they would be ready for the year that followed. Some of the males would engage in a mock-challenge with one of the wandering males, which most would gladly take part in.

The female brought the prey before her mate, whom lay resting in his nest, watching with delight as his eyes light up at her presence. Preening his neck as he ate, she would purr affectionately. The grief of the loss of her son had passed, though she would always miss him, she would have another litter with her mate if he regained his strength quickly enough.

 An Utahraptor warning call cut through the air, making her head shoot up at the sound. Her mate tried to get up himself, but she quickly pushed him back in his nest with a reassuring purr, giving him a quick nuzzle before running towards the hisses and barks that now filled the air. She gulped in a breath as she came within sight of what was happening. A hungry Tyrannosaurus Rex had entered their territory, looking for an easy meal. One of her packmates lay unmoving in the sand, blood pooling around her as tooth marks littered her body, while the others ran around the bigger Predator, trying to frighten it. The female quickly joined them, hissing and calling at the creature, hoping to intimidate it enough for it to retreat. Her heart pounded in her chest with adrenaline, but she wouldn’t back off. Not with the lives of her daughters on the line if this beast were to go berserk. The Tyrannosaurus Rex snapped at some, causing some to dart back, only to return to the line mere moments later, outraged. With a screech, the Matriach jumped on the Predator’s spine, nipping and clawing at its flesh. A few others daring enough quickly followed her lead, the female among them. She sprang on one of his hind legs, using her hind claws for support as she clawed and bit. Suddenly, the Tyrannosaurus Rex staggered, and with a loud bellow, did the female feel herself lose grip and fall into the sand, making a small cloud of dust rise up as she landed heavy. Dazed, she staggered back up her feet, when one of her packmates shrieked at her, warning her. The Tyrannosaurus Rex had seen her fall and had zeroed on her, ignoring the others that desperately tried to get its attention off her. Panicking, she let out a horrified shriek as she realized the situation she was in. It couldn’t reach her on the containers, she knew. Forcing her muscles in motion, she charged towards them, leaping the last few meters.

She was airborne when an agonizing pain shot through her tail and she knew the Predator’s jaws had closed around it. Her front paws landed on the container and she desperately fought to get a grip, but the bigger Predator was simply too big for her. With a huge force, she was pulled from what would be her safe haven and thrown back into the sand with a force that left her dazed. The saliva hit her mere moments before the jaws closed on around her spine, plucking her from the sand. She desperately tried to fight the beast off in her last living moments, when the pressure around her spine increased and she could feel it’s razor-sharp teeth digging into her flesh. A wet crack sounded, her body went limp and then there was nothing.

#the isle #utahraptor #dinosaur #velociraptor #ark: survival evolved #path of titans #raptor #Isle Port #jurassicpark #jurassic park #the isle game #evrima #primal