You are in the deserts of Mongolia, Asia, 75 million years ago.

The wind whipped across the red sandstones, bringing with it the scent of impending rain. You crouched behind a rocky outcrop, your camera lens focused on a narrow fissure in the rock. You were told this was a nesting area, but it had been quiet for hours.

Then, the shadows changed.

At first, you thought it was a large, grounded bird. It moved with a jerky, swift grace, feathered in shades of mottled grey and pale dusty yellow, blending perfectly with the arid landscape. But as it came closer, you saw the head—long, intelligent, and bird-like, with disproportionately large eyes that seemed to analyze your entire position in a fraction of a second.

It was a Saurornithoides. It wasn’t looking at you with panic, but with curiosity.

It stopped fifteen feet away, its long, stiff tail balancing its body. You stayed absolutely still. It tilted its head, that massive brain assessing the threat. Its foot, adorned with the signature sickle claw of a troodontid, dug casually into the sand, yet it kept its gaze locked on you.