The gray triceratops rumbled and thrashed his horns, flashing the bright blue of his crest into the air. His opponent, a chestnut brown with a golden crest, bellowed back in an attempt to contest. The gray trike was the bull of the herd, as he had been for many seasons. He was growing old, and it was at this moment that one of the young males was to challenge him.

The two began their slow approach, circling around each other with replicated rumbles of superiority. The young male, who's horns were still a bit stubby from youth, lifted his front mass and stomped down to the ground with a show of his strength. The bull replicated the stomp with one of his own, the impact greater and shooting plumes of dust skyrocketing into the air.

The young brown male huffed, pawing at the ground and glaring at the older male through narrowed eyes. The bull snorted and shook his massive head, flashing his colors ever more.

The young male was unpleased to the bull's show, and without a moment to waste, he charged.

The gray male was ready and interlocked his horns with the brown one's, however the brown trike's horns were not as long, and the bull sliced into its golden crest, scattering it with scarlet droplets. The younger male scrambled away, clicking his jaw and letting out an unsatisfied, and slightly pained grumble. He snorted, before continuing his pace as the two circled each other.

The eldest one was slower, so he held back his charge, waiting for the brown trike to make the move. The brown one studied the older triceratops, snorting and thrashing his horns in an occasional tease, trying to egg on the other male.

The gray male stomped his feet against the ground with a bellowing snarl, twisting his horns throughout the air in an unspoken rage. The gray male grew impatient, and charged forward. It took a few moments to get his run going due to his great mass, and the young male ran out of the vicinity of his horns. The brown one turned sharply, and raked his horns through the bull's flank. The gray trike bellowed with pain and fury, and while lifting his hind legs into the air he spun around, smashing his feet into the ground in an explosion of dust.

The bull barely missed his competitor, and the brown trike backed away as swift as he could with alarm flashing through his body like bolts of electricity. He held back his cry of distress, as it would end the contest. Instead, he let out a mighty bellow. As the bull rose up for another stomp, the young male charged forward and shoved his horns upwards, slicing into the bull's soft belly. The rip of flesh and scales sounded through the air, a disgusting noise to the herd's ears.

The bull cried out, his distress and pain clear as day. The younger male tilted his head, his neck aching from the weight of the older one, and let the body fall to the ground. The bull had failed the contest, and the name had now passed on to the brown male. The new bull lowered his head, speaking softly in gentle rumbles, offering a chance for the older male to start anew, and remain in the herd at the lowest of ranks.

The older male looked up with pain in his eyes, and firmly shook his head. He had lost. His herd was his life, and now that it was no longer his herd, his life was over. The young bull looked at the intensity of the wounds, and saw the heavy flow of blood running from the older male's stomach. The wounds he had inflicted.

Grief choked him, and he cried out into the sky, summoning his herd to his side to grieve for the once great leader.

~*~
Written on February 22nd, 2019.