I find myself at the Tyrrell today, which is most unusual. Though it still proves useful, this museum is not the sort of place I can effective maintain my position in the Pack [of the Primordial Feather]. At least until possibly today.
Typically I like to stay close to the front lines, and monitor the war closely, though not too close and risk being caught in the trenches, mind you. I'm no hunter [in the pack hunter=warrior]. I shouldn't have to divide my attention as much as I have been lately.
The Gondwanaians have been getting ever more bold in their actions against us. Not to mention the challenges I must contend with from within the Primordial's own ranks. Normally I can't afford being side tracked by minor distractions. The worst of which must be the complaints made by Primordials about their contact with the human public in their postings as museum exhibits.
As a momentary aside, what they think is so hard about being a tourist attraction I do not understand? I served the pack in that capacity for 6 years, and it was by no means my hardest challenge. If anything it was among the easiest times of my life. It also served as a constant reminder just how inferior the mammals are to us saurians, and why we in the pack must always be alert and ready to pounce on any time they show weakness... However I digress.
When one is in my position in the pack, to give credence to such complaints is dangerous. Not only does it waste precious time and energy, but it makes you appear sympathetic to the weak and useless. Such weakness would undermine me as the current right claw advisor to the royals.
Yet here I am at the Tyrrell. Following up just such a complaint. Or at least a complaint on the surface. Had I not caught wind of a very minute detail that is. The encounter in the museum was not with a human, but rather a vivus dinosaurs who thinks he is a human. Which suddenly meant this complaint was not below me. Sadly it accelerated it to my top priority. Especially given its timing.
Thus here I am, in the Tyrrell's learning centre, to get all the intelligence on the situation I can.The incident was reported by a lowly bull Albertosaur, which means I'm taking an awful risk in pursuing this personally.
He may be of the royal lineage of the pack [Tyrannosaurids] and thus be of a higher pride than myself, but as a male and a splinter [Albertosaurinae] off the true royal line [Tyrannosaurus Rex] he is, practically speaking, far below my station in the pack's hierarchy. So if it turns out I am following a mere tale of fancy, and not what I fear he is suggesting, I risk losing severe face if word of my being here were ever to get out amoung the pack.
I'd gone out of my way to suppress and bury his report. Apart from my two trusted matriarchs, none in the pack had picked up on the issue's significance from what I could tell, and I had waited and watched a good week to ensure it had remained unnoticed before pursuing it.
The bull told me precisely what I'd expected to hear. Last week the runt had indeed shown up here at the museum, at least noticeable shown up. I suspect he has been here longer, but I had no way of confirming that. At least not yet! In either case it was a most annoying and potentially disastrous turn of events.I'd already planned and put in place an entire operation against Traumador, but in New Zealand. It was perfectly designed to bring the runt to his knees, and force him to join us. It was all in place and ready, but waiting for him in Dunedin. For the longest time the runt has simply disappeared from the map after a reported presence in Australia. Only to show up here!
The runt's Australian appearance I had deemed to be a mere coincidence. Yes on the one hand, he suddenly appeared in close proximity to my other large project, the absconder Lillian, right as I was in the middle of executing my plan against her. However the fact I successful played two of the Primordial's key foes, Paradigm off Annex Co, and thus effectively ended Lillian's last remnant of stardom, was proof the runt wasn't in Australia for any true reason but rather due to pure chance. Had he been there in an effort to stop me, I would have expected the result to be better than him randomly shipping the absconder across the world.
Yet now I wasn't so sure. His timing was too perfect. For a second time no less!
The pack was on the eve of reaping untold gains from our long investment into the "14th crate" (as Razi Saurornithoides, matriarch of the Troodontid pride, had dubbed her pride project). The "crate" was not only being kept here at the Tyrrell, where the runt was now poking around, but we were in the midst of the most sensitive phase of the operation, a timing on the part of the runt I couldn't help but feel nervous about.
Did he know of our plans? In the most likely case of yes (why else would he come back to this the place of his ultimate disgrace?!?) how was it he had come to know them? Most important of all, what was he planning? Clearly he wouldn't have come all the way here unless he planned to challenge us.
I couldn't risk ruin to this operation. Razi had pegged too many of her hopes on the "crate" to have them all come to ruin. As her closest ally among the matriarchs I had no choice but to help her. Especially given the current engagements occupying her in Asia.
Again, my presence here was risking enough. I couldn't afford any more problems developing.
Fortunately being a matriarch made this situation easy to take control of. Especially since none of the prides or matriarchs had ever headquartered here. The Tyrrell was too tied into Paradigm's schemes and thus under heavy monitoring of Palaeo-Central for any of us to be stupid enough to invite his meddling.
My first order of business was silencing the Albertosaur. I couldn't risk anyone I didn't wish to, learn of my presence here or the threat that probably loomed over Razi's project.The problem was even though we had several pack members present at the Tyrrell, I couldn't retask any of them to help me. I couldn't trust any of them with this information, and more to the point none of them were able hunters. I was going to need extremely able warriors to deal with the runt, and yet not draw attention to themselves or the "crate".
Paradigm's presence here at this time was no coincidence either after all. He clearly suspected something was going on here, but had he known for sure, he wouldn't be waiting. Paradigm as a mammalian hunter. He'd have made the kill already. The "crate" was still safe, but only for now.
None of my own pride were capable hunters or very discrete, and in most cases neither. This meant I was going to have to approach another matriarch for assistance, not a prospect I longed for, but given the situation, a prospect I was going to have to bear none the less.
As I worked my way through the potentials, I could only make one choice. Which pained me, as if I had any other choice I'd have taken it. However I had no other choice.
Swallowing my pride I contacted Desdemona. Fortunately her Dromaeosaurid temperament saw the runts actions as an affront to herself, on behalf of the pack, and thus she missed any political leverage my approaching her might gain her. Meaning I would be gaining Desdemona's assistance at no cost to myself.
More to the point, I was about to get the Crimson Talons at my full disposal. The runt was about to very much regret his decision to meddle in our affairs!
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