Morrison Formation, Colorado, 156 Million Years Ago

Dawn approaches, its orange light breaching from the horizon. Glare from the emerging daylight beams shed the shadows of the night, revealing a fern and forest-covered, arid land. The scattered patches of forest are made up of ginkgo and conifer trees of varying sizes and are surrounded by beds of ferns, cycads, horsetails, and shrubs. What would be shades of green and brown are instead stained in more faded colors, scars from the months-long dry season. These effects are also seen in the sunbaked, sandy ground covered in small, beige pebbles. Even what would be rivers and small ponds are reduced to brown puddles in cracked, scarcely wet dirt.

In this drought-stricken land, something large lumbers. Its massive body casts an inching shadow across a patch of dirt. The sounds of its footsteps quake the land like the smallest of earthquakes. Its grumbling and booming sounds are loud enough to vibrate the bones of any animal around it. The source of all this is one of the largest animals to walk the earth, a sauropod dinosaur. Much like other members of its famed family, it walks on four, pillar-shaped legs, has a tail for counterbalance and its long neck lifts its smaller head tens of feet above the ground. Its distinct features are hidden in shadow, a silhouette cast against the rising sun.

The quakes from its heavy footsteps become less frequent as the giant animal comes to a halt. Its back foot digs into the parched ground before pulling backward, kicking up a cloud of beige dust. This action is repeated until eventually, a wide, one-foot-deep hole is carved out in the soft sand. At this point, its digging stops and it slowly lowers the back half of its body over the ditch. The booming and grumbling sounds of the sauropod vanish, replaced with a strained, creaking groan. It is here that this lumbering giant begins to dispense its highly precious cargo... eggs. Each one is perfectly round and roughly the size of a bowling ball. Pure white, hard shells help to protect the still-developing wonders that lie inside.

One by one, each egg softly plops out of the squatting mother until finally, 28 of them fill the hole in the warm sand. Gently, the new mother uses her back foot to spread the dug-up sand onto the eggs. Soon, her future young are completely buried and hidden in a layer of soft, warm soil. For the coming few months, this will function as a natural incubator until the little creatures inside are ready to hatch.

However, it will not be an event that the mother will witness. Once her fragile cargo is safely covered, she starts to march away, the quakes of her footsteps reemerging. Her immense shadow soon follows behind, retreating from the entombed nest and allowing the scorching sunlight to warm it. Her job here is now finished and once her young hatch, their destinies will be their own.

***

Two whole months have now passed and the land that will one day be Colorado has already seen more rain than it has the entirety of the dry season. This has allowed the once-dry plant life to be rejuvenated in more luscious shades of green. Rivers and lakes have also returned with some of their water seeping into the dirt around them. This same dirt has become much moister and more covered in ferns and horsetails.

Though another bit of change is shortly due to come. Mysteriously, a new set of sounds starts to occur. Soft, mewling chirps can be heard, but their source is unseen. Soon, a small part of the ground shifts and breaks as a bump begins to rise from it. The chirps along with whistle-like ones start to become more frequent as the bump grows larger. Cracks and openings in the dirt reveal smooth, scaly, green skin with vertical dark stripes across it. This same skin is reflective, moist, and glossy, causing bits of dirt and eggshell to stick to it as well as light to shimmer off it. The lower parts of this skin had a brighter, yellowish shade of green. More sand and dirt crumble away revealing another part of what the skin belongs to, a head. Its eyes are proportionately massive, its mouth is small with a tiny egg tooth on the top lip, and its nostrils are positioned just below a large bump on top. This head is also carried on a thick, long neck. The eyelids open to reveal orange irises witnessing the above-ground world for the first time. This is a baby sauropod, the first to be born of its mother's massive clutch.

With its body free from the soil, the hatchling's feet sprout out as well to aid in pulling itself out. Now out of its eggshells and dirt prison, its full size is fully clear. It stands only 10 inches tall and weighs roughly 7 and a half pounds, no bigger than a gallon of milk.

Behind the firstborn, more babies sprout from the dirt, sinking it and revealing both broken and still-hatching eggs. In total, there are 11 males as well as 11 females. One of the latter is already born differently from the rest of her many siblings. Rather than her eyes being orange, a slight mutation has caused their color to be closer to that of the sky, earning her the name "Blue-eye."

It is with these eyes that the little youngster spots her destination, a thick back of vegetation leading to the forest. With nothing but instinct driving her, Blue-Eye waddles her way into the wooded haven with the rest of her siblings.

Unbeknownst to the newborn sauropods, they are not alone. As the last of the hatchlings climb out of the nest ditch, a bigger animal steps out of the cover of taller ferns. Staring down at the youngsters is a two-legged, feathery carnivore called Coelurus. It has a very slender form with its featherless legs being especially skinny as well as being covered in beige, scaly skin. The feathers of its body are primarily cream-brown with scattered black splotches and a much lighter underbelly. The feathers at the tip of its tail are colored black but also much longer and form a plume.

As long as a common seal, the Coelurus easily outsizes every one of the sauropodlets. However, its glare is not directed at them, but rather at the nest they are abandoning. Out of the 28 eggs that were entombed in the ground, six have failed to hatch. Such a case can either be pointed to the eggs going raw or having been infertile. Either way, they make a good snack for the Coelurus who pecks its mouth through one of the shells and gobbles up the slimy yolk inside.

What can easily be seen as a failure for these eggs is also a fortunate distraction for the babies that have already hatched. The 70-pound predator can prey on Blue-Eye or any of her other siblings with little effort. Now that it has an easier meal, it's otherwise distracted, letting the youngsters escape into the woods like baby sea turtles to the ocean. Such luck, however, will be much rarer from here.

***

The more frequent episodes of rain from the wet seasons have allowed for the development of thicker forests. Ones so packed in conifer and ginkgo trees that light staining the ground is reduced by half. Even the much softer sands of the ground are blanketed by large amounts of ferns, horsetails, and shorter cycads. Such a place is perfect for young sauropods like Blue-eye and her siblings. It has been just 60 days since they broke out of their shells and they have already tripled in size, now nearly half a foot taller than an average house cat.

The secret behind their massive growth rate lies partly in their favorite pastime, eating. All day long, the podlets use their spoon-shaped teeth to strip bits from any vegetation within their reach. From then on, their growing necks transport the plant matter to the stomachs where rocks called gizzard stones grind it all up. At first glance, it may seem like a dull way of life, but it allows the young long-necks to grow at a rate of over 100 pounds a day. So, what better place to spend these growing days than a dense forest?

However, this isn't to say that such a place is completely safe. Blue-eye finds this out the hard way by simply venturing into the wrong batch of taller ferns. She steps into the vegetation bed, her foot making contact with a smooth, scaly mass that immediately squirms faster than the eye can see. The little sauropod freezes as she starts to hear a hissing sound below her. Curiously, she lowers her head below the ferns.

There Blue-eye finds a curious reptile, an ancient member of a family more commonly seen in our modern day. A Diablophis, one of the earliest ancestors of the snakes. Like the familiar serpents of our modern day, its 5-foot body is long with a slender tail. Its body however differs in that it is chunkier around the body in the middle and has small, almost useless limbs. The skin of this stem snake is scaly and smooth, primarily colored in bright red with a single black stripe along the back and a beige-white underbelly.

Being a more primitive member of the serpent family, it has yet to evolve a venomous bite. Despite this, its curling, hissing, and displaying of its open, fanged mouth are enough to make Blue-eye back off. She waddles away, finding a different batch of ferns to feed away at. This time, she approaches more cautiously, having been made aware of what may lie within.

But something bigger and deadlier lies in wait, stalking the young sauropods from the cover of taller ferns and cycads. It is a pack of four Stokesosaurus, smaller predatory predecessors of the tyrannosaur family. Just like T-Rex, they are two-legged carnivores with a long tail to act as a counterbalance. Their bodies however are smaller at up to 13 feet long and more compact with proportionally bigger hands. Long, slender legs lift these same bodies nearly five feet off the ground. A coat of black, downy feathers covers them almost entirely apart from their feet, mouths, and hands, exposing yellow, scaly skin.

Steadily, the Stokesosaurs approach the unsuspecting sauropodlets, keeping their bodies low in the condensed foliage. The predators surround the feeding youngsters from all around them, forming what appears to be a half circle. With a single, misplaced step, however, the cover is soon blown. One of the Stokesosaurs presses its foot onto a Diablophis, causing it to bite back. The carnivore lets out a hissing squawk as it pops out of the fern bed. Blue-eye lifts her head with the rest of her siblings, turning their heads southward to the exposed Stokesosaur.

With the element of surprise lost, the rest of the pack immediately rushes toward the sauropodlets. One young male immediately finds its neck, trapped in the jaws of a Stokesosaur. He struggles and squirms letting out a piercing, strained squeal. The youngster's cries became louder and more frequent as the carnivore dug its teeth further and further into his flesh. Frightened and defenseless, all Blue-eye and the rest of her siblings can do is run deeper into the forest.

Soon, the rest of the pack jumps out, chasing after the podlets. The youngsters are only able to waddle so fast with how their bodies are built. Thus, the predators easily catch up, attacking one female and another male. The only hope left for the remaining siblings lies in an expansive, compact batch of tall ferns and shorter trees.

Blue-eye, however, isn't in the best spot with her family. She's lagging, tied with one of her sisters for last in the herd. Both siblings turn their heads back seeing one last Stokesosaurus, its opening jaws looming nearer by the second. The two turn back forward, struggling to outpace each other. It isn't long before they find themselves about to cross into the patch of greenery. At this split second, the Stokesosaurus grasps its jaws around the neck of one sibling, pulling it to the ground and quickly suffocating it.

In the chaos, one sister makes it into the opaque foliage... Blue-eye. In total, four of her siblings died to the swift predators, but she and 17 of her siblings were lucky enough to make it out. It is because of moments like this that traveling in such large numbers is best for the safety of these otherwise defenseless youngsters.

***

An hour passes and the remaining sauropodlets have far escaped the hungry Stokesosaurus pack. Now in a much thicker collective of ferns and cycads, they employ a new strategy to be extra safe. They lay their bodies down on the ground below the vegetation, allowing their skin to blend seamlessly. Even if the carnivores were to still be following, they're now less likely to see tired youngsters... or at least hopefully.

All has grown nearly silent, only the buzzing and chirping of primitive insects filling the forest air. Soon, however, another different sound starts to appear, one unfamiliar to the youngsters. Blue-eye keeps her body frozen to the ground, her only movement being the pulsing of her stomach as she breathes. She impulsively makes a soft chip as the three-toed foot of an animal steps right in front of it. Another foot drops beside it as the animal it belongs to stops and lets out a series of deep, pigeon-like coos. In response, Blue-eye shuts her lids, further blending into the bottom of the foliage bed. The head of the bigger animal sinks into the foliage, nearing the little sauropodlet.

Oddly, rather than a bite, she instead feels a series of soft sniffs before hearing the munching of plant matter right next to her. Blue-eye opens her lids back up to see the animal above her. Finally, it's not a predator but a 10-foot-long herbivore that thrives in this part of the forest. A Dryosaurus is a slender animal that stands on two long legs with a long tail counterbalancing it. Its head is large and flat with a beak-like mouth as well as large, reddish-yellow eyes. A coat of deep brown, fur-like feathers adorn most of their body. The only exception is their feet and faces, revealing white, scaly skin.

It becomes obvious to Blue-eye that she and her sibling are now safe, prompting her to let out a series of assuring chirps. Her siblings respond by rising out and resuming their foraging.

In the process, they find more Dryosaurs, a colony of over 20 individuals. These included males with longer red, quill-like feathers along their backs on top of their already present coats. There are also some youngsters a sixth of their adult size, sporting feathers that are thicker and fluffier. The coos and trills of these peaceful vegetarians fill the forest air. At last, a group of animals to eat with as opposed to being eaten by.

***

Four months after hatching, the time has come for the young sauropods to leave their dense home. This part of their journey is brought on by their change in size but also their skin. Their green coloring is fading toward their backs, slowly turning into a dark beige with faded streaks. A sign of maturity that also removes their ability to camouflage from the predators of the thick forests. Now that they're 4 feet tall, much of the vegetation they've been growing up feeding on is too low for their long necks. Thus, to find more vegetation within their taller reach, they must venture out of the forest.

As they approach the outskirts of the forest, they come across another predatory obstacle. Lying next to a bed of ferns is a 22-foot-long carnivore known as Ceratosaurus. Its name means "horned lizard" after the three keratinous horn-like structures on top of its head. One sits on top of its snout while the other two stick out from above its eyes. The body of this predator is muscular, carried by two powerful legs. It also has two short arms that each sport four fingers, the first three sporting sharp claws. The jaws of this animal are deep and filled with long, blade-like teeth. Its scaly skin is a reddish-brown with thin, black stripes and a white underbelly. There is also a row of black, round osteoderms that runs from the middle of its neck, down its back and ends at the tip of its deep tail.

Strangely though, it remains still, seemingly unaware of the sauropodlets. Slowly, Blue-eye inches toward the Ceratosaur whereupon further inspection, she finds its eyes closed. Steady, deep breaths leave its nostrils as its stomach inflates and deflates. Alas, the medium-size predator is asleep.

Blue-eye marches away, gradually guiding her siblings to not wake the slumbering meat-eater. Soon, she finds a steep, 1-foot-tall cliff of mud, lying at the edge of their next obstacle. Separating them from their destination is a river over 30 feet wide, filled with calm, muddy brown water. Each of the youngsters repeatedly looks to their left and right, finding no end to it on either side.

With a sleeping carnivore mere feet away, their only option now is to start crossing. Blue-eye takes the first tumble, sliding down the muddy cliff at a steady rate. As the other youngsters follow, she takes her steps into the river's murky water. Quickly she finds her body sinking into the over 3-foot-deep stream. Luckily, Blue-eye and her siblings are just tall enough for their heads to stand above the surface as they trudge through.

With half of them now in the water, one male makes a small, but dangerous mistake. He slips, causing himself and some loose rocks to fall into the ditch below. His sudden squeal and the clacking of the stones are enough to open the eyes of the Ceratosaurus. Now conscious, the predator opens its jaws to let out a deep, rumbling yawn before rising seven and a half feet off the ground. It sets its attention to the podlets who immediately start to rush themselves down the cliff.

Gradually, the Ceratosaurus starts marching toward the escaping youngsters, leaving three-toed footprints in the ground beneath him. With only three of the sauropodlets yet to cross, the predator becomes faster. One by one the remaining siblings slide down the cliff, entering the muddy water below. However, one female soon finds her neck trapped in the jaws and teeth of the Ceratosaurus. Panicked, she squeals, piercingly as the carnivore throws her to the ground while shaking her neck back and forth. Blue-eye looks back, unable to see her sister's fate past the cliff. All she can do now is to continue guiding what's left of her family through the river water.

It isn't long until another danger presents itself. The threat comes in the form of a long, mysterious shape moving under the water's surface. Straight from the much deeper side of the river to the left of the podlets, another hungry denizen peers through the muddy water. It's another Ceratosaurus, a male that is slightly larger at 23 feet long. Thanks to adaptations like its crocodile-esque tail and flexible body, this predator can comfortably swim through the brown freshwater.

Such an advantage doesn't bode well for the young sauropods. Blue-eye continues to trudge through the water, just barely keeping her nostrils above the surface. In some brief moments, both she and her siblings end up sinking in, their bodies too heavy to float on top. Soon, Blue-eye finds herself out of the water and on the other side of the river. She starts dragging herself up the muddy cliff as her remaining siblings arrive one by one.

Suddenly, the swimming male Ceratosaurus jumps from the water and clasps its jaws around an unlucky female podlet. Attempting to let out a cry, the youngster gets dragged away by the carnivore and swallowed by the river water. The Ceratosaurus swims away, podlet in its mouth and a trail of crimson following alongside.

At this point, 16 young sauropods remain and have finally made it across the river. From here, they'll venture on to find more food for their drastically growing bodies. Eventually, it will be this process that will make them too big for predators such as Ceratosaurus. That time, however, won't come for an exceedingly long while.

***

November has arrived and with it is the dry season. One month in and many of the ferns and cycads of the wider plains are becoming fewer and farther between. What's left is surrounded by dry shrubs and crisp, gravely, sandy dirt. Fortunately, Blue-eye and her siblings were able to find enough food to reach their 6-month-old size of five and a half feet tall. The green skin of their forest years has completely vanished, leaving the dark beige of their matured forms. Males however are starting to differ with a faded blue coloring on top of their heads and running down their necks and backs. These will only grow brighter as they continue to mature and only stop once they reach maturity.

To do that, they'll first need to make it through their first dry season, something that many young animals here don't survive. Their biggest challenge thus far has been finding water amongst the arid plains of Colorado. Even after days of exhaustive trudging, they have yet to find a source of refreshment. If they don't soon, they may succumb to dehydration.

Soon, Blue-eye catches a glimpse of their goal. It lies just a mere mile away, obscured by the heatwaves of the horizon. She lets out a squeaky groan as she marches forward. The rest of the podlets follow suit but only as fast as their tired, drying bodies will allow them to.

As they venture closer and closer, the heatwaves lift revealing their ultimate lifeline. It is a puddle of water reaching 10 feet in diameter and nearly 3 feet deep. Although only a fraction of what's seen in the wet season, it's already the most water they've seen since the dry season started.

Blue-eye quickly notices that they aren't the only ones who've found this watering hole. The edges of it are sounded by quadrupedal animals that are up to 25 feet in length. These are Camptosaurus, larger, medium-sized relatives of Dryosaurus. Much like the smaller animals Blue-eye knows from the forest, they too are herbivores.

They do, however. greatly differ from their forest-dwelling cousins in appearance. Their eyes are still large and rest on a head that's small compared to the rest of their bodies. Despite also having the same beak as well, their snouts are longer. Their bodies are still slender but comparatively bulkier and held up by four sturdy legs. They also have no feathers, instead having bright orange, scaly skin with faded, brown streaks and a white underbelly. Males differ by having a mix of green and blue coloring around their eyes. The sounds of these animals are mainly groans and grunts, mixed in with the gurgling sounds of them swallowing up the freshwater.

Blue-eye and two of her other siblings walk into the crowd of Camptosaurs, desperate to find room and drink as well. There they find a different resident of the watering hole, a Mymoorapelta. This smaller, 10-foot-long herbivore is a member of the armored ankylosaur family, specifically the branch known as the nodosaurids.

It's much like its later cousin, Ankylosaurus, in that it's a quadrupedal animal with hard armor on top of its body. However, Mymoorapelta and other nodosaurids differ by not having a tail club, but instead a row of spikes along the sides of their tails. Its head is triangular when viewed from the side with a narrow snout and beaked mouth. The skin is primarily a yellowish-tan as seen on its legs, the side of its stomach, the underbelly, and the neck. Every other part is covered with solid green, bony armor in addition to gray spikes and bumps. The spikes in addition to growing from the sides of its tail also grow from the sides and top of the front half of his body armor. From above its back hips downward, and the rest of its armor is covered in gray bumps.

Although small compared to the Camptosaurs, the Mymoorapelta is intimidating enough as a living tank. Despite this, Blue-eye squeezes herself between the ankylosaur and one of the larger herbivores. In response, the Mymoorapelta lets out low rumbling and whooping sounds directed at the 6-month-old sauropod. She assumes nothing of this display and reaches her head to the water for gulping. Before her tongue could even touch the liquid below her, the Mymoorapelta takes action.

Suddenly, the ankylosaur bumps its side against Blue-eye, driving one of its spikes across her skin. She quickly backs away letting out a squealing, pain-filled groan. Starting to limp slightly, she returns to her siblings, now sporting a gash on her left front leg. Goes to show that once sources are scarce and competition is high, even herbivores will be aggressively unwilling to share.

In these harsh times, it's not just herbivores that are desperate for water. The young sauropods start to hear thumping noises, each one growing incrementally louder than the last. Blue-eye looks to her side before backing up with her siblings. They only sit and stare, becoming engulfed by the shadow of a much larger animal making deep, gurgling growls. The Camptosaurus notice the sounds as well and turn their attention backward. One lets out a loud honk before it and the rest of the herd scatters away from the watering hole. The Mymoorapelta stays, however, still drinking the enriching liquid. It soon stops as a large, mysterious veil of shadow creeps over it. Curiously, the ankylosaur turns around to see a pair of three-toed feet stomp not far from it, each one as long as a skateboard.

Shaken, the armored herbivore turns its head upward to see the full animal in front of it, a Saurophaganax, the "lord of the lizard eaters." It is an absolute giant carnivore measuring 34 feet from snout to tail tip and a little over 4 tons. Just taller than a single-story building, it easily towers over both the Mymoorapelta and the young sauropodlets.

The body of this massive predator is held up by two sturdy legs and balanced by a big tail. The smaller arms of the carnivore sport three-fingered hands, each one equipped with large, strong claws. Its large head is narrow and elongated, held up by a short neck. Above its eyes are small horns that are colored in red, signifying that it's a male. Dozens of sharp, serrated teeth fill its long jaws. Its scaly skin is primarily dark green with black streaks across its back and solid white on its underbelly.

The Saurophaganax simply stands above the Mymoorapelta, growling as he looks down on the armored herbivore. While the ankylosaur may have the advantage in defensive armor, it is easily outsized by the carnivore. Thus, the Mymoorapelta runs off, allowing the predator to approach the edge of the watering hole. He lets his head down, his jaws gradually opening and gulping in large volumes of water. The Saurophaganax repeats this process again and again, draining the hole of its precious liquid.

Soon, the apex predator's drinking stops. He then looks down at the Blue-eye and her siblings who impulsively huddle up together. The Saurophaganax lets out a single low growl before walking away. As the top predator of the Morrison Formation, he could easily make a meal out of the young sauropods. However, large predators like him have bigger fish to fry.

With the Saurophaganax gone, Blue-eye and the other podlets immediately jump to gulp down what remains of the watering hole. In their extreme thirst, they do not think about preserving what's left. Instead, they wolf down whatever amount of precious water will quench their desire. As far as the dry season is concerned, this may be the most water they'll see in a long time.

***

January arrives and the dry season has only gotten worse. The ground has become shriveled and cracked, the only low-lying vegetation being gray shrubs. Trees have especially become fewer and farther between, only existing in small patches across the scorching, arid landscape. Even the large river where a Ceratosaurus swam is now reduced to dried-up silt at the bottom of a deep trench.

Blue-eye and her siblings are now 8 months old, their eyes have reduced proportionately, and their sounds have become booms and creaking groans. Despite now being as tall as two baseball bats, there are only 12 of them remaining, 6 males and 6 females. Drought alone had already taken its toll, stealing the lives of 4 podlets since November. Blue-eye's cut from the Mymoorapelta has thankfully healed, but left a great, white scar on her front left knee. Although she's still able to walk, her limp is only barely present.

As she exhaustedly trudges through the land, she continuously looks around for even the smallest amount of water. The young sauropods even investigate the river they once swam through, witnessing only its desiccated state. Tired and with nowhere to go as far as they know, the youngsters are completely lost.

However, all hope may not be lost. They soon hear a different type of noise; one they had never heard from anything but themselves. It was a series of low grumbles and booms, followed by a creaking groan. At last, they are hearing another sauropod, perhaps one of their kind. Instinctively, Blue-eye leads her siblings away from the river and toward the source of the sounds.

After walking through miles of hot, dry dirt, the podlets arrive at something they hadn't seen in months, a small lake. It's thinner and longer than the one they encountered two months prior, but also has cracked, light brown mud around the edges. Already, it's a contrast to the beige, sandy ground the youngsters have become sadly accustomed to. It also provides a blessing they've been in desperate need of.

Unfortunately, they quickly realize they may not entirely be safe here. Blue-eye spots a form that she and her siblings are familiar with, a Ceratosaurus resting at the muddy edge of the lake. They've already seen what this predator is capable of firsthand and are thus reluctant to be within even 20 feet of it.

Just then, the sounds that lead them here occur once again. This time they are mixed with thunderous thuds that become louder as they happen. Not even the Saurophaganax has footsteps as loud as these. Whatever these belong to is much heavier and thus much larger. Soon, they see a large animal approach the small lake. At last, they found another long-necked dinosaur. However, this one is quite different from Blue-eye and her siblings.

Although it still has a small head carried by a long, thick neck, it grows horizontally from the body before curving upright rather than growing straight up. Its tail is also much longer to match this different position, along with ending in a flexible, whip-like tip. Most obviously, the size position of its legs is off, with the hind legs being held higher than the front as opposed to the other way around. Its head is also elongated and doesn't have the same bump that Blue-eye has. Even its skin is different, being primarily a bluish brown with a more yellowish underbelly that blends in with the dust kicked up by its steps. It's not one of Blue-eye's kind, but rather a Brontosaurus, the "thunder lizard." At 72 feet long and weighing nearly 20 tons, it's easily the largest animal they've seen so far.

Blue-eye and her siblings simply stare, frozen in awe at the lumbering behemoth. Hardly does much, only just walks to the watering hole and starts to gulp the muddied water from it. However, one thing strikes them as odd at this moment. The Ceratosaurus they spotted when arriving does not react to the Brontosaur's presence, only continues to lay there... motionless.

Blue-eye cautiously walks over to the edge of the small lake, accompanied by one brother and one sister. They inch and plod, increasingly careful not to disturb the carnivore. Suddenly, Blue-eye stops, containing a soft muffled groan in her mouth. She looks downward and slightly lifts her scarred foot acting up again. Her attention then turns to the Ceratosaurus, still lying motionless by the edge of the lake.

Now being a mere three feet away from the still carnivore, she's able to notice a few more things about it. Its skin is much paler, almost a lifeless gray. The predator's legs are completely absent, seemingly absorbed by the mud. Remarkably, the Ceratosaur's eyes are still open, but they have become ghostly white and completely parched.

Suddenly, Blue-eye's focus on the still predator is broken by the creaking groans of the Brontosaurus whose feet are now sticking in the light brown mud. Her two siblings let out higher-pitched cries as they too have become entrapped by the lakeside soil. Even worse, their feed slowly vanishes as they start to sink into it.

This is no ordinary lake, but rather a mud trap, one that has already claimed a Ceratosaurus but has now imprisoned a Brontosaurus and two sauropodlets. Blue-eye looks in shock, her feet only a foot away from the edge of the viscous, brown sludge. She also looks back out at her two trapped siblings, groaning more frequently as they struggle to escape the deadly mire. Sadly, all she can do now is guide her 9 remaining siblings away from the wet prison. If they are to find water, it won't be here.

***

The bright searing light of the March sun bears down scorched, arid plains. In the two months since escaping the mud trap, four more of Blue-eye's siblings have lost their lives to the everlasting dry season. She is now one of 6 sauropodlets that have survived to grow just short of 9 feet tall. As they have time and time again since leaving the once lush forest, they find themselves searching for food. Low-lying shrubs that are scattered throughout the cracked dirt won't do as the drought had sucked the nutrition out of them. Now they're nothing more than gray, wilted masses of twigs. Tired along with craving both food and water, the siblings push forward ever forcibly.

Alas, it isn't long before they find a batch of over 30 trees, some twenty or so feet, while others are eight to nine feet. Upon this sight, Blue-eye lets out a few excited grunts as she runs toward the trees. Swiftly, her siblings follow, testing the limits on the speed of their bodies.

Now only a few feet away from the trees, podlets find them accompanied by the second sauropod species they've ever seen. This species is remarkably like them, having a neck posture that allows them to stand up to 25 feet tall. Although the legs are close to matching Blue-eye and her siblings, they are closer in height rather than the front limbs being taller than the hind ones. Their tails are similar, but the necks of these other sauropods are proportionately shorter. These necks carry an arched, square head that has a blunt snout and a mouth filled with peg-like teeth. Their bodies are stock, containing over 50 tons of weight. Muddy green with dark brown, scattered circles color their scaly skin, along with a yellowish-gray on their underbellies.

This new group of sauropods may not be Blue-eye's kind, but they are a closely related species known as Camarasaurus. There are eight of these large long-necks, half of which are juveniles that only reach 10 feet in height. Blue-eye moves closer to the trees, but very cautiously. She's already witnessed how aggressive some animals may get over contested resources, even herbivores.

So far, however, the Camarasaurs remain oblivious. Even as she bites down on a cycad her height, the larger long-necks pay her no mind. At last, a group of true, gentle giants Blue-eye and her siblings can forage with. Her siblings immediately join in, tearing and swallowing any vegetation they can reach with no hesitation. Such resources and kinship have been a long time coming, but to Blue-eye and her family, the wait was well worth it.

Soon, another change starts to occur in the skies above. This whole time, gray clouds have been slowly forming and gathering. Now they've reached the point that even the sun can no longer be seen past them. The land below now lies engulfed in the shadow brought on by the clouds. Bright, white flashes occur from the layers of gray gas followed by loud crashes.

It is among the thunder and lightning that Blue-eye experiences an odd sensation, a single drop of water dropping on her snout. Bewildered, her eyes fixate on the droplet as it slides down her head and drops to the ground. Eventually, more of them start to drop from the sky. At first, they seem to drop every second before becoming every half-second till finally a new drop of water appears every millisecond. Finally, the dry season is ending with a massive flux of what life here has been so desperately in need of... rain. It won't be long till the dried-up ditches and mud once again become full lakes and rivers. Despite how incredible an event this is, Blue-eye and her siblings stay under the cover of the trees along with their other large sauropods.

One young Camarasaur, however, cherishes the rainfall, holding its head up high and catching raindrops and its mouth. Little does this youngster know that danger is lurking near. It comes in the form of a male Saurophaganax, its thumping footsteps concealed by the crashing and rumbling of the thunder. Even when lightning flashes, the juvenile fails to notice the large predator with how distracted it is. The adult Camarasaurs see the massive predator stalking the juvenile and let out deep groans to alert. This, however, only prompts the Saurophaganax to charge at the youngster.

By the time the smaller Camarasaur sees the carnivore, he's already biting and grazing its legs. The sauropod lets out a piercing, creaking cry as he attempts to escape. It's soon stopped by the Saurophaganax biting down on its neck and slashing its claws around its throat. Trapped and bleeding, all the juvenile can do now is let out one last fading groan as the predator makes snapping, crocodile-like bites on its neck. Finally, its head collapses to the ground, still and lifeless.

Blue-eye watches, frozen in fear at the sight of the Saurophaganax biting into the side of the Camarasaur. The predator raises his head from behind the juvenile's stomach, its mouth stained in dripping crimson mixed with rain. Suddenly, he snaps his jaws open to let out a low, gurgling bellow, one that instills chills into Blue-eye. Though it wasn't the carnivore's sound that scared her but rather what the Camarasaur's fate may mean for her. At the rate that Blue-eye and siblings are growing, it won't be long before they find themselves on the menu for the Morrison Formation's lord of the lizard eaters.

***

May has arrived once again and with it a massive reemergence of trees, ferns, horsetails, and cycads. All of this is thanks to the return of the brief yet plentiful wet season. Two months of periodic rain had even helped the lush forests to return once again.

Amidst this greenery lies the carcass of the juvenile Camarasaurus that was killed at the start of the wet season. Through months of decay and feasting, it has been reduced to rotting flesh and decayed skin resting on a weathered, gnawed skeleton. Even now, the aroma emitted by the meat remaining attracts carnivores all around. Currently, a pack of four Stokesosaurs guard the carcass and much-desired meat inside.

However, the scent of the massive carrion is enough to attract another native carnivore. This time, a Ceratosaurus emerges from a batch of forest right next to the dead body. The smaller predators repeatedly squawk as they huddle around the carcass. In response, the horned carnivore lets out a deep, raspy hiss, but fails to scare off the pack.

The predators quickly grow silent as different sounds emerge from the forest to their right. From the lush patch of tall evergreen emerges a familiar yet much larger sight, Blue-eye and her five remaining siblings. It has now been a whole year since these long-necks hatched and they're already grown to each be half a foot taller than a basketball hoop and as heavy as a racehorse. Now they are big enough to look down on the carnivores that once terrorized them in their early youth.

There is still one, however, they have yet to avoid. After glancing past the sauropod siblings, the Stokesosaurus pack lets out squawks before running away. Even the larger Ceratosaurus scampers off too, following not far behind. Never in their entire life had Blue-eye and her family seen such behavior from either predator. Prompted by their bewilderment, they turn around before letting out fearful groans. They've once again spotted the biggest land carnivore of the Jurassic, a Saurophaganax.

The once small sauropods may have grown a lot since their first encounter with it, but they each still have yet to outsize it. Thus, they have yet to leave this predator's menu. Instinctively, they huddle together and let out a series of creaking groans. Unthreatened, the Saurophaganax lets out a gurgling bellow as it steadily approaches Blue-eye and her siblings.

Curiously, the apex predator freezes just as frequent, shaking rumbles start to appear. The earth and trees around shook slightly with every one of these, almost as if they were experiencing a miniature earthquake. One of the sauropod siblings looks down at a small puddle that also ripples every massive vibration. They also hear low rumbles and deep, creaking groans that reverberate for hundreds of feet around them. Soon, a long shadow is cast over both predator and prey, blocking out the sun in their path almost entirely.

Blue-eye, her siblings, and the turning Saurophaganax look up and see the silhouette of a long-necked giant. It stands four times as tall as each of the siblings, easily towering over them and the predator. As the lumbering mountain of an animal moves away from the sun's path, its physical features become much clearer. Its appearance is identical to that of Blue-eye and her siblings, having the same color of skin, the same upright-held neck, and the same egg-shaped bump on its proportionately small head. Even the posture of its legs is the same, with the forelimbs being taller than the back ones. It primarily differs in size with a total body length of 72 feet and a weight of over 60 tons, ten heavier than a humpback whale. The neck of this giant alone is as long as the biggest modern-day anaconda. Finally, the sauropod siblings have met another of their kind, a Brachiosaurus, the "arm lizard."

This booming titan is so large that it's too much for even a full-grown Saurophaganax to prey on. That, however, doesn't stop the lord of the lizard eaters from bellowing and spreading out its class. In response, the adult Brachiosaur lets out a groan while lifting its foot. Instantly, it drops its foot back down onto the ground, creating a powerful stomp that shudders the ground along with kicking up dirt and soil. Outmatched, the carnivore grumbles before walking away.

With the Saurophaganax gone, the adult Brachiosaurus lowers its neck till its head is at eye level with Blue-eye and her siblings. It lets out soft rumbles as it sniffs the yearlings a few times. By instinct, they rumble too as they move closer to each other. The adult rubs her head with the youngster, the truth now becoming clear. This massive female isn't just another of the siblings' kind... she's also their mother.

Better yet, she's not alone. Hearing more creaking groans, Blue-eye finds more Brachiosaurs. Over twenty lumbering behemoths emerging from the horizon. Some of them have bright blue coloring on top of their heads and running down their necks and backs, signs that they are fully matured males. Not only have Blue-eye and her siblings found more of their family, but they also now have a herd to travel with. At last, the troublesome first year of these youngsters is over and a new chapter begins in the journey of the long-necks.