It’s the Late Cretaceous period, Mesozoic Era, and well… there’s not much to do besides surviving, a thrilling pastime, really. And speaking of that, your tribe is running out of food. If you don’t bring back something big soon, hunger will become a real threat. Armed with only a crude stone spear, you and your hunting group set out in search of real meat, the kind that can feed the entire village for days. With luck, you won’t end up as a meal yourself for a lurking Gorgosaurus.

The dense forest hums with life, ferns brushing against your legs as the calls of distant creatures echo through the trees. The humid air is thick with the scent of damp earth and ancient vegetation. After hours of tracking, you finally spot something: a plump female Parasaurolophus walkeri lazily stripping leaves from a ginkgo tree. A beast this size could feed the whole tribe for days. Your group moves into position, gripping weapons, ready to strike. Next thing, a massive shadow, a deafening roar, the ground shaking beneath you... and then, nothing.

You awaken with a pounding headache, the world blurry. Sunlight filters through the canopy, dappling your aching body. More importantly, your people are gone. No signs of a struggle, no shouts, no familiar faces. Just you… and her. The very same p. walkeri looms above, but instead of hostility, her dark eyes hold something else, concern. She kneels beside you, cupping water in a broad leaf, carefully tilting it toward your lips. The fresh liquid dribbles into your mouth, cool and refreshing. With a heavy thud, she lets herself drop beside you, making the ground tremble slightly under her weight.

“- Human woke up. Me worried.” Her voice is deep yet gentle, her words simple yet sincere. You blink up at her, properly taking in her towering form. For a two meter tall beast who may have wiped out your hunting party, she seems… oddly soft. Not just in her marshmallow-like body, but in the way she watches you but not as prey, not as an enemy, but with something entirely unexpected.