You are in the coasts of Germany, 150 million years ago.

The sun had barely broken the horizon, painting the Jurassic lagoon in shades of orange. On the wet sand, dozens of thumbnail-sized sea turtle hatchlings broke free from their sandy nests, instinctive tiny automatons scurrying toward the crashing waves.

Suddenly, a dark shape swoops over and snatches one of the baby turtles in its jaws. It was not a bird as you realized. It had a long snout filled with needle-sharp teeth and leathery, membrane-thin wings that stretched thin and leathery in the late sun. As your gaze follow it rising to the sky with its prize, you spot a few more circling silently, looking down at the commotion of the turtle hatchling scrambling their way to the ocean below.

Then, the other pterodactyls begin to dive. You can see that each of them was no larger than a small gull, but the sheer ferocity in their reptilian eyes were terrifying. They skimmed just feet above you, attempting to snatch the fleeing turtle hatchlings.