The Jenasaur Files

It was warm that day.

I could feel it in the air; it was the day where my herd and I were to go amongst our own, though in more confined quarters.  I sensed, rather than saw, the prevailing excitement among the little ones, as our leader, one in the middle stages of pregnancy, rallied them up for the strenuous journey ahead.  I was impressed that she did this without biting.

Our guides placed us in a long, narrow vehicle, which was adequate for our journey, and I managed to keep the little ones of the herd (indeed, they comprised the majority of our herd, as our numbers have admittedly thinned) in line for the entire duration.  The ride was long, but we knew it was necessary for our pilgrimage.

The air was still when we arrived and exited the vehicle.  I had never had much use for human automobiles, for they truly baffled me--but I suppose lacking monkey thumbs and proper eyesight (such a limitation for humans) makes me a bit biased in this regard.  However, it brought my herd to our destination, so as a show of gratitude, I did not devour the driver.

As the little Duckieatopses trotted about and stretched their legs, I looked out at what lay before us: this land's, Germania's, largest dinosaur "reserve," a place for my kind to wander with freedom among our very own.  My kind.  My people.  One of the Jenasaur.

Our Fearless Leader and I guided the Duckieatopses into the park, first coming upon a horrific sight: a mound of sand bricks, which we were told held the remains of our brethren who had been brutally murdered by our enemies, the humans.  We dug and dug to preserve our kind's remains, to cleanse them of the earth and give them a proper memorial, working relentlessly to free the skeletons of dinosaurs long since gone.  It was a grueling task, and one especially hard on the little ones, who until now had been sheltered from the cruel reality of our war with the humans.

The rest of the time was spent getting to know the permanent residents of the park and how they have adapted to confinement.  The Duckietopses, their hearts heavy with their first task, were somewhat refreshed by this step, as they stood in awe of such specimen as Parrot Lizard.  One of us, and yet so different.

The Duckieatopses, being somewhat drawn to me, kept me company throughout our venture into the wilderness.  One such, named Sarahsaurus, particularly attached herself to me, and Indrosaur and his rather large straw hat (I chose not to ask where he had acquired such a human decoration) painted an amusing picture.

This was, of course, until the little ones started devouring one of their own.

It was a horrifying scene, really.  It appeared that a Tyrannosaurus had actually done the job, but the herd leaped upon the dying Triceratops's body without abandon, gnawing at the open flesh and surrounding it like the flies that plague the human carrion.  I watched with disgust, not acting upon instinct in case they were to turn on me.

Reeling from such an occurrence, our Fearless Leader and I rushed the Duckieatopses through the rest of the park before they could do more damage in order to reunite with more of our pack--more, less cannibal, Duckieatopses.  It being a warm, sunny day, we allowed the little ones some playtime in the sand, whereas such Duckieatopses as Nelesaur, Marthasaurus, and even Juliatops beckoned me to partake in their playing.  Still, the unsettling feeling remained, and I knew that we must leave the Dino-Park, even if it meant returning to the realm of humans, our enemies.

As we were once again herded into the long, narrow vehicle and were transported back to Celle, I knew that this adventure among our own kind was worth it.  But, I still lie awake at night, reeling from the nightmares that my cannibalistic Duckietopses have created for me...thus creating my own existential crisis about who exactly is in the right in this war of dinosaurs versus humans.


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(OH HEY, the Dino-Park was lots of fun.)