Crash!
The noise-makers were still at it, but Dagger-mouth barely noticed. His heart was too heavy with other matters.
King of the predators — that’s what his heritage was. Perhaps king of the predators for all time!
What if he never learned the skills to attack and triumph? It was a dismal thought. It stayed with Dagger-mouth for most of the day.
But as the sun crept low again and the shadows of pteranodons passed over him, something changed inside him.
Perhaps it began with the gnawing hunger that was gripping his innards again.
Perhaps it began when a pteranodon dipped low and cast its shadow and Dagger-mouth looked at it squarely instead of shuddering.
Perhaps it was seeing the successful attacker swagger back, looking disgustingly full and arrogant.
Perhaps it was seeing the swift young tyrannosaur, hungry-looking and exhausted on the ground.
Perhaps it was something of all these things that made Dagger-mouth feel strong and determined as he stared at the fiery volcano that night. Once more he fixed his focus firmly.
It was as though the fire of the volcano burned with the fire inside him and gave him a sense of courage and power.
Perhaps that’s why, when the moon came up and the stars came out, and a brilliant body made its path across the sky, Dagger-mouth did not notice it at all.