You are in the coastal forests of Europe, 190 million years ago.

The air in the Jurassic coastlines was heavy and humid, smells of pine and decay thick enough to taste. You had been trailing a herd of Scelidosaurus, hoping to map their behavior. You didn’t notice the sound—a dry, raspy clicking—until it was directly above you.

You looked up. Perched about ten feet above you on a rocky outcrop was a creature no larger than a fox, yet entirely alien. It was a Dimorphodon.

Its head was massive, a deeply built, top-heavy skull that seemed too heavy for its body. Its eyes were huge and black, staring down with a cold, predatory intelligence. You could see the teeth—not just a single row, but specialized, long fangs in the front and short, snapping teeth behind.

It didn't fly immediately. Instead, it moved with an awkward, hopping gait, using its large, clawed forelimbs to drag itself forward—a master of both climbing and walking. It turned its head sideways, surveying you with a terrifyingly sharp gaze, perhaps assessing if you were a threat…