13
A Triceratops is charging at us, its three horns threatening to skewer us like a kebab.
‘You may think it has a horn on its beak but it’s actually not a horn at all. It’s a soft protein called keratin—’
‘Be right back,’ I say, and I disconnect my comms before Charles can utter another word. There’s tension in the group, yet no one moves. The three-horn is about ten metres from us when it trips over its own front legs and falls head-first into the dirt.
Waa!
It’s a baby Triceratops, not quite as big as the Protoceratops that Raptor Robbie took down. But still big enough to cause damage with its developing horns.
Takeshi has a beaming smile I haven’t seen from him before.
‘I never thought I’d see a Triceratops up close.’
Baby T gets to her feet. She quits whining and eyes us up.
