You are in the coastal shorelines of South America, 112 million years ago.

The humid air of the Early Cretaceous Brazilian lagoon hung heavy as you crouched behind a dense patch of fern-like vegetation. A soft scratching sound drew your attention to the shoreline.

There, just twenty feet away, a male Tupandactylus was foraging. It was smaller than you expected, with a wingspan of only about 3 meters, but its head was dominated by an absurdly large, sail-like crest, bright red and yellow, with dark, velvety filaments lining the back. It looked less like a reptile and more like a strange, prehistoric parrot.

The Tupandactylus used its long, toothless beak to poke through the mud and wet sand, likely searching for insects or fallen fruit. Its large, dark eyes surveyed the area, and it gave a soft, raspy call. As you shifted slightly, it froze, the massive crest turning to face you...