You are in the forests of North America, 76 million years ago.

Dusk has fallen and you have just set up a camp in the middle of the forest. The air is thick with the scent of pine, but a low, vibrating snort breaks the evening quiet.

Emerging from the woods is not the familiar shape of a Triceratops, but something else. It’s smaller—about 15 feet long—with a remarkably deep, almost circular snout. As it steps into the clearing, the falling sunlight catches the most striking feature: two long, yet unusual, cow-like horns extending forward and outward over its eyes, unlike the upward-pointing horns of its relatives. You identify the new arrival as a Nasutoceratops.

The horned dinosaur walks with a heavy, steady gait, acting less like a territorial titan and more like a massive, armored bull. Two other adults follow, flanking a small, wobbly calf with stubs for its horns. They seem calm, browsing on the low-lying ferns, but you maintain a good, safe distance from them, knowing that they can be protective over their young and will charge if provoked.