Paraflight
The allothere was giving Velociraptor a run for her money. A delicious, fuzzy little morsel with wide black eyes and brindled hide, its kind were rare in the sahel, which only made Velociraptor’s mouth water when she noticed it rooting around for grubs beneath a gnetophyte bush. It spotted her in the same instant, and took off into the brush. That was the start of the chase.
Allotheres were fleet-footed, and this kind especially. Its legs were short and plump, but it was swift as a bird in flight as it bounded over the sand. The playa-brown tail was tipped in an enticing snow-white brush, and the mammal’s long, white ears likewise flopped behind it as it fled. Such stark colors were meant to signal fitness to potential mates, but now they only served as homing beacons for Velociraptor as she chased the zigzagging allothere through the dense maze of scrub.
Velociraptor was nimble, too, but her endurance was short. She was built for ambushing her prey, and could not keep up a chase for long. As the seconds ticked on, her legs grew sore and her heart galloped tightly. Her only motivations to continue the chase were the continual sight of the allothere’s twitching tail and the delicious, irresistible scent it released in its panic.
The allothere disappeared into a withered Welwitschia, and Velociraptor lost sight of it for a moment. She skidded to a stop, welcoming the reprieve so she could catch her breath. Then she began circling the dead-looking bush, her keen amber eyes inspecting each parched leaf for signs of her hidden quarry. She also took a brief moment to shake herself off, ruffling the chase’s accumulated dust out of her feathers and briefly creating a miniature sandstorm around her. Her natural color was a sharp, gunmetal grey, but long years of living in the gritty scrublands had drabbened her to the same sepia tone as the allothere.
Suddenly the allothere broke cover, sprinting twixt between Velociraptor’s legs. Behind the Welwitschia was a withered magnolia, thin but tall, and covered in tough, sturdy bark. Its trunk corkscrewed upwards like flame frozen in wood, the result of decades of torment by the desert winds. No flowers bloomed this late in the season, and it was nearly bare of leaf, too, for autumn was coming fast upon the sahel. Only a single green oval clung to one of the uppermost branches, waving like a pennant in the arid breeze.
To the allothere, the stunted tree was salvation- it hit the trunk and scrabbled halfway up before Velociraptor had finished pivoting around to see where it had gone. She only just caught a glimpse of the white tail before it vanished up into the thicket of branches and stopped to look down at her. The allothere’s long, snowfelt ears tilted forward mockingly, while its whiskers twitched wryly. Velociraptor hissed her frustration up at it, pacing the ground at the base of the trunk and staring daggers at the allothere. She wanted it very badly.
Badly enough to attempt the unthinkable.
She hissed at the allothere once more, then turned and strutted back over to the Welwitschia. Turning slowly, she faced the tree again and looked it over with analytic cunning. It was nearly vertical, but angled back ever so slightly, just enough that it might be possible. She gazed once more up at her quarry, though not in frustration- just to make sure it was still there.
Then, she took off.
Feet pounding against the playa, she held her sickle-claws aloft to prevent them from being damaged in the sprint. Her stout wings flapped furiously, helping her gain speed as she hit the trunk with her right foot. She connected with her left foot an instant later, and continued running, straight up the trunk. Her wings flapped fiercely, a half a dozen beats a second, hoisting her up the trunk and into the thicket of branches where her shocked allothere dinner awaited.
The allothere tried to back away as the dinosaur’s gaping, razor-toothed maw approached, but the game was up. Velociraptor snapped once. The fuzzball squeaked pitifully. There was a brittle snap somewhere in its spine, and it went limp in her jaws.
The last leaf broke from the branch above her and floated slowly to the ground. Velociraptor perched triumphantly on the stout branch, savoring the allothere’s tender flesh for all of three bites.
She looked out over the windswept scrub from this unusual vantage point, and was pleased to see a waterhole only a scant mile and a half away.
Boldly, she spread her wings once more and leaped from her perch. She flapped hard, raising and lowering her broad, feathered tail-fan as needed to stabilize her descent, and glided in to a rough, dirt-strip landing right beside the Welwitschia she had used as a starting marker a few minutes before.
Shaking the dust away once more, she set out for the oasis to wash down her dinner.'