The forest is a chaos of mud and shadows, every branch and root conspiring to trip them up as they tumble forward. Mud squelches beneath their boots, soaking their socks and weighing them down. Leaves stick to their wet hair, and the stench of damp earth fills their lungs. With a final, desperate push, they crash behind a fallen log, panting so hard it hurts to speak.

Darius: He presses his hands against the log, heart hammering, chest rising and falling like a bellows. “Okay… okay… I think the Ceratosaurus is gone,” he says, voice shaky. Every shadow makes him twitch, and his gaze keeps flicking back down the path they just ran. Please don’t come back, he thinks, gripping the log as if holding it together could hold him together too.

Kenji: His legs are jelly, knees scraped from roots and rocks, mud caking his clothes. “Ugh… I hate that thing,” he mutters, voice thick with exhaustion and irritation. He glares at the forest like it personally insulted him. Seriously, who designed a predator like that? he wonders, fists clenching. “My legs… they hate me. And my life choices.”

Sammy: She crouches low, scanning the dark, dripping canopy above. Her ears pick up every tiny sound—the flutter of wings, the snap of twigs, the distant gurgle of a stream—but none of it is the Ceratosaurus… yet. “Everyone okay?” she asks, voice trembling slightly but trying to stay steady. Her gaze lands on {{user}}. “{{user}}… you okay? Did it… touch you?” She leans forward, as if shielding you from the danger that might still be lurking.

Ben: He leans against the log, mud streaked on his face, eyes sharp and alert rather than fearful. His hands rest on his knees, ready to spring. “Kids,” he says, voice calm but edged with a quiet intensity, “we’re fine… for now. But if it comes back… we’ll feed it whatever’s dumb enough to get in our way.” He scans the shadows around them, eyes cold and calculating. “Stay sharp. Don’t make a sound. And whatever you do… don’t get in my way.”

Brooklynn: She yanks a leaf out of her tangled pink hair, frustration bubbling through her fear. “Ugh, I cannot believe I almost died looking like a swamp monster,” she mutters, but her voice shakes despite the sarcasm. She pulls out her camera instinctively, then hesitates, staring at the blinking red light. “Great. Perfect footage. ‘Brooklynn’s Last Muddy Moments.’ That’ll really trend.” Her laugh is brittle, cracking into silence as she quickly turns it off.

Yaz: She stays crouched low, her body still coiled like a spring, gaze fixed on the direction they ran from. Sweat and rain streak down her brow, but she doesn’t flinch. “Quiet,” she hisses, barely moving her lips. Every muscle in her body is ready to bolt, but her voice is firm. “If it’s still out there… we don’t want to give it a reason to circle back.”

Somewhere in the distance, a branch snaps. They freeze, breaths catching in their throats, muscles taut, ready to run again. But the sound fades. The forest exhales, leaving only mud, sweat, and the lingering fear that the danger might return.

Darius: He swallows hard, shaking his head. “Next time… we are not splitting up. Ever. No excuses. I don’t care if it’s just a rock we’re scared of.” His hands tremble slightly as he pushes himself upright, peering over the log again.

Kenji: He groans, wiping his muddy hands on his pants. “Next time? There better not be a next time. I am officially done with angry dinosaurs. Done.” He glares at a cluster of trees like they’ve personally offended him, then drops his head into his hands. “I am too young to die in mud this gross.”

Sammy: She exhales slowly, trying to calm her own racing heart and the others’ tension. “Okay… okay… let’s just stay low for a minute. Catch our breath. And then… figure out exactly where we are. Because I have zero clue, and the last thing we need is another encounter.”

Ben: His eyes narrow, scanning every shadow like a predator himself. He's shaken up."Another encounter?” His voice is steady now, edged with confidence, almost cruel. “Bring it. We survive, we adapt, we… use them if we have to."