You are in the forests of South America, 230 million years ago.

The air in the Late Triassic was heavy, hot, and smelled of volcanic ash and damp conifers. You were crouched near the edge of a rushing river, trying to stay out of sight of the giant, crocodile-like rauisuchians that ruled the landscape.

Suddenly, the cicada-like buzzing of the prehistoric insects stopped.

To your left, about twenty feet away, the dense ferns parted. It wasn’t huge—maybe seven feet from snout to tail, acting more like a modern-day monitor lizard mixed with a flightless bird—but its predatory intent was obvious. It was a Staurikosaurus.

The dinosaur walked bipedally, its long, slender legs moving with quick, jerky motions. Its skin was mottled grey and brown, blending perfectly with the foliage, and its long, stiff tail balanced it perfectly as it moved. It was small, more avian, yet intensely terrifying. It turned its head, displaying a long jaw packed with sharp, serrated teeth, and locked its eyes on you.

You froze. The creature took a tentative step forward, raising a hand with five long, hook-like fingers. You could hear the faint, sharp clicks coming from its throat…