No CGI: Migration 3
Story by Tagenar on SoFurry
3 chapters in a row without yiff. This must be what story progression is like.
No CGI: Migration 3
by tagenar (https://www.furaffinity.net/user/tagenar | https://tagenar.sofurry.com/)
{Dinosaurs can drive. They would rather run.}
Charles had a splitting headache, and he could barely move his arm, let alone lift his head. He was lying in the passenger seat of his car, reclined all the way. He looked over at the driver’s seat.
It was reclined as far back as it would go. J was lying on his back, arms just barely reaching the steering wheel, legs easily touching the pedals. His tail occupied some of the back seat.
Charles moaned.
J looked at him. “Co[m]ing around?”
“How are you...?” The human ran out of breath.
The tip of J’s tail tapped the seat. “This is just as unco[m]fortable as it looks. I did so[m]e stunt driving for a few TV shows years ago. Dinosaurs aren’t allowed to drive, but so[m]e of us know how. Unofficially. I’[m] taking you to a hos[p]ital. You are dehydrated and [p]ro[bab]ly have other things going on. Since you’re awake, you can tell [m]e what the hell you were thinking. You’ll [b]e joining us in California next week.”
They hit a bump. It tossed Charles in his seat. He could barely right himself.
“Why am I so weak? So weak...”
“Ok, you’re not thinking. Well, ti[m]e for [m]e to [pl]ay shrink and get you talking. First though, I’[m] kind of i[mp]ressed you found us. How did you? _I_ didn’t even know where we were until I followed your trail [b]ack to your car and saw a road sign.”
Charles lay still for a moment, blinking, staring at the comical sight of a utahraptor crammed into the driver’s seat of a sedan. Eventually, he found breath.
“T smells even better now. I couldn’t... I didn’t want to be away from it. I can smell her from the road. I just kept going.”
J drummed the wheel with his claws. “You couldn’t wait until next week?”
Charles drifted. He heard himself speaking. “They’re my eggs. I can’t leave her. I wanted to go with all of you. It feels like... Like I should be able to keep up. I should have been fine. I should be. Why am I so weak?” He paused. Caught his breath. More words came out. “Feels like I should be faster. I should be able to sleep outside. Why can’t I?”
“You are not a dinosaur, Charles.”
“I should be... be able...”
Charles drifted all the way.
*
Z-I.
G.
And three other females circled T. Now that her mate was away, she felt vulnerable and exposed to their leering eyes and envious sniffing.
Jealousy and admiration in their scents and body language.
She had asked J to go with Charles. He liked the idea of letting T play with this status she had acquired. Everyone knew what it meant. Now would be an opportune time for them to indulge.
T approached them, tail raised, flaunting her scent, making sure they could not ignore it. She felt a few noses under her tail, followed by hissing and circling. They had to respect her, for she carried the next generation. Back when their kind were animals, that was all that mattered. Having eggs. Raising the next generation. The couples who successfully had clutches became the envy of the group. Jealously became a survival mechanism—a way to push others to hunt more, fight harder. This is what the other females felt right now. Respect crossing into hatred followed by the urge to hunt harder to conceive likewise.
T carried herself higher as they circled her, tasting her scent, snarling in respect and envy.
Z-I scented her. She snarled, and T felt claws across her flank. T pivoted and faced her.
Z-I: [Why you?! It should be me!]
T: [Don’t you dare hurt me! I’m the future!]
She felt more snouts scenting her. Now that Z-I had broken the truce, the others followed, letting the jealousy overtake them. T felt more claws on her, not enough to break the skin, but enough for her to feel. She backed away, turning to face and spread her claws at all of them. They grouped together and formed a semi-circle, snarling and jeering in their native language, voices blending into one animalistic cry.
[It won’t be you again!]
[I’ll eat your eggs as soon as they come out! Then it will have to be me!]
[I’m better than you!]
[I’m sick of your scent filling up the pack!]
[We don’t need more of it running around!]
[The pack won’t smell like you! Not after I lay a clutch! My hatchlings will kill yours!]
[I’ll be the future!]
[Not you!]
They turned on one another, clawing snouts, careful not to do too much damage, but still letting the sensations take them. The very thought of hatchlings that smelled like someone else—the pack taking on the scent of some other female—made them so angry. Jealousy pushing them higher, making them want to bear eggs to keep up.
This was not like the sparring males did during heat cycles. No proving one was worthy. The females fought for other reasons.
The fight lasted about twenty minutes, and then everyone just collapsed into a sitting position. The sensations had passed, and now they looked at one another.
They laughed.
So rare they were ever allowed to experience this. A taste of how their ancestors felt. Being aware of what these sensations meant prevented them from being controlled by them.
They collapsed in laughter. T crawled close to G and nuzzled her. G returned the gesture.
The others followed, having let the indulgence run its course. Eventually, they just lay there where they fell, out of breath.
“Just as [m]other told [m]e,” T said, gasping.
“Wow,” Z-I panted. “I’d only heard. The envy. The anger.”
They ran out of words and just lay flat on the ground.
Applause.
T rolled halfway over and looked. E and R were sitting hip to hip, clapping.
“You [pl]ayed the [b]itch very well,” said the orange raptor. “You should show our agent that [b]ecause you are a natural!”
T gave him the finger, and her arm dropped to the ground, too tired to keep it raised as the gay raptors progressed to a standing ovation.
*
J glanced at Charles in the passenger seat. He was still breathing, but he passed in and out of lucidity, muttering about how he shouldn’t be so tired—he should be running faster—he should be this or that. Now he merely mumbled.
For hours J endured being crumpled on top of the driver’s seat, straining to keep one foot on the accelerator, and grateful Charles drove an automatic. J knew how to drive a stick, but it was a pain for a theropod.
Only two cars on the road the entire time, and now he came to a main state route. A sign pointed him in two directions, one town’s name was closer than the other, so he turned to wheel to the right.
Before he did, he reached over and felt Charles. Clammy skin. Hot breath. Hopefully the water had done him some good; it was the wrong way to treat dehydration but they had no other way to help him.
As J’s claws hovered near the human’s face, he had a thought.
J wondered how his blood smelled now that he was dehydrated and vulnerable.
The scent of his rival, but wounded.
He had never sampled a scent like that before.
J set the tip of his claw on Charles’s shoulder. Just a prick. Easily explained away as a tree branch scraping him. He wouldn’t even need to scent it; the wounded scent of his rival would fill up the car. It might even help him stay awake.
Before he broke the skin, J pulled his hand back and accelerated onto the main road. He kept a death-grip on the steering wheel, willing himself to focus without it.
He couldn’t believe he had almost done it.
Again.
It had gotten him in trouble back home, and in Hollywood’s dinosaur district. His reputation had never recovered, and he was glad to follow T to Ohio and leave it all behind.
J thought he had moved on. Here it was again, tempting him to repeat the past. He meditated on what Charles had been mumbling about.
_think I’ve been holding my own good enough without help._
J thought he understood, thinking back on the day he began helping Charles learn how to spar. All the times they fought before, the human seemed more frustrated that he couldn’t do more damage.
Charles learned how to spar, and the knives made up for his lack of claws, but no matter how much training he did, he would never be able to run cross-country and keep up with a pack of dinosaurs.
_I shouldn’t need an airplane. I want to run._
Everything in him felt he should be better, but he wasn’t.
_I followed your scent. I can do this. I shouldn’t be tired._
A disconnect between the mind and the body.
He had managed to track them down. Somehow he had picked up their scents. He had kept up, going without sleep and food this whole time, in denial about his body’s limitations.
A streetlight illuminated Charles for a moment. J looked at Charles from the corner of his eye. For only an instant, J saw something other than a human lying on the seat beside him. When he turned his head, the illusion had gone.
Less than an hour later, he entered a small town. J followed the blue H signs.
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