Treats and Annoyance

The crisp winter air carried a biting chill as Bramble, a Parasaurolophus adorned in unusual spines and spikes, trudged through the snow-laden forest. He sniffed the air, his sensitive nostrils catching the faint, sweet scent of sap. This seemed to be quite the popular spot to lap up some sweet tree syrups to bear the colder seasons. The trees here showed old scars and fresh scratches, bark hiding a sugary treat that would help animals endure the cold season.

His legs crunched through the snow, leaving curved footprints from his overgrown claws. The journey was slow paced as he wasn’t in any rush. Not many dare to fight someone with as much weaponry attached as him, nor can the trees run out of the treat he’s after. He felt the birches would make a nice treat, which was convenient as he had found a promising grove not too far from the riverbank on a prior exploration.

Once he approached the grove, glad his memory wasn’t faulty, his spirits lifted. The birch trees stood pale and elegant against the snow, their slim trunks stripped of their bark in some places. Some creatures are after the bark itself and some rather carve deeper.

Bramble chose a tree that looked healthy and largely undisturbed. He wouldn’t want to put too much stress on a tree that has been already carved in too many places after all. He still looks forward to the next year and the years after. Considering this tree fit, he practically body checked the tree, scraping his spined shoulder against the tree. Curls and chunks of white and black bark peeled away, and soon, the tree’s sap began to ooze out in an attempt to seal the gashes.

Bramble leaned in, his tongue flicking over the sticky liquid. It was sweet and satisfying. Not necessarily something that would keep him fed, but a nice treat for once in a while.

He hummed content, savoring the flavor.

A loud, raspy squawk shattered the quiet, making him jerk his head up. From above, a flash of black, grey and a pop of magenta streaked through the sky.

The trouble had arrived: Orchid, a scarred Tapejara hiding chaos behind a well-spoken front, swooped down and perched on a low branch near Bramble’s head. His dark coat and bright crest contrasted the surrounding snow and bleached trees like a foreboding banner as he regarded him with one curious, glittering eye.

“Fancy seeing you here, Bramble,” Orchid chirped, his voice carrying hushed mockery. “You always find the best spots, don’t you?”

Bramble restrained a low groan in his throat. “Hello, Orchid.”

Orchid was already hopping closer, his narrow, broken beak tilting toward the fresh sap Bramble had uncovered. Without so much as a warning or ask for permission, he darted his head down and took a quick snap at the sap.

“Mmm!” he exclaimed. “This is good. You’ve got a real talent for finding tasty treats.”

“Orchid…” Bramble let out an exasperated huff. “Find your own tree or some smaller plant to get sap from.”

“Why bother when you’re so good at ripping them open? We can share,” he teased, his wings twitching as he shifted to another branch.

The moment the parasaur made his move to ignore the new company and take another lick at his food, Orchid boldly snapped at his face. Pecking at the far larger dinosaur, so respect or fear of the spiked face, each time he was in reach.

Jerking his head away, not letting his eye be pecked out, he only glared at the tapejara. Oh, not this game again. This was far more of an annoyance, even if he ignored the harmless bites, eating food was made far less enjoyable. This was supposed to be a calm breakfast.

Bramble glared at him in silence and simply decided to move on. He wasn’t about to waste his energy fighting with nothing else but a nuisance in his eyes. He lumbered toward another birch tree nearby and began scraping at its bark the same as before, hoping Orchid was satisfied with the previous tree and stayed there instead.

No such luck.

As soon as the sap flowed down and the brown parasaur attempted to nibble at it, Orchid swooped down again, landing on a branch croaking in played curiosity. “Oh, you broke this one pretty good too!” he said, helping himself to a taste once again. A treat just tasted better when someone else tried it before. He might think his own morals high and right, but maybe the influence of the seagulls he lived near altered his view.

Bramble let out a long-suffering sigh. “You can’t just steal from every tree I open up, Orchid. You could’ve just stayed with the other one if you wanted the syrup so bad.”

“I could tell you the same!” Orchid replied with mock offend. “Or is my mere presence enough to drive you away? That’s pretty rude, you know.”

Bramble stepped back, but didn’t retaliate. He knows better than to fall for an annoying “bird’s” squawks. This isn’t their first encounter and he knows Orchid likes to bully bigger creatures for their food, even if he himself denied such. Greedy little thing.

“Hmm, not bad,” Orchid said, tapping his beak thoughtfully against the tree after another scoop of the trees liquid. “But I think your first tree was better.”

Bramble turned to face him, his patience snapping. “Why are you even here, Orchid? Are you bored?”

He tilted his head, eyeing the far larger ornithopod with his striking blue eye. “Not really. Besides, it’s winter. Food’s harder to find, and you’re just so talented at this.”

Bramble let out an unconvinced huff, sending a cloud into the cold air. He took a deep breath and maybe he should snap. Maybe he was far too passive than to frighten such a little annoyance. How else was he to get rid of him?

“Alright,” he said, his tone unchanging, almost unbothered, and he moved his neck to lap up his uncovered snack.

Orchid blinked, surprised as he was met with such nonchalantness. Maybe he felt the shift in the air, or saw the subtle strain in the parasaurs neck, coiled like a spring, ready to move. If he messed around more he’ll find out the consequence. A bite or swipe from such a thorned and unpleasantly sharp dinosaur would easily make him lose a wing. Time to skidaddle.

“Ah, hah,” Orchid let out a raspy chuckle. “You’re no fun when you fold so easily. As I said though, your first tree has the better juices, way sweeter and tastier. I think I’ll visit that one. Join me unless you want to hurt more untouched trees then.”

The previous tree wasn’t too terribly far away after all, and even once the flyer retreated, it didn’t save Bramble from one or the other comment or sarcastic compliment.

With this conclusion to their encounter, Bramble and Orchid each enjoyed their respective trees’ treats, the quiet forest settling around them. For all his mischief, Orchid wasn’t the worst company, when he stayed on his side of the grove, at least.

And as winter wore on, Bramble found himself almost looking forward to their playful arguments. Almost. Maybe with a little fewer pecks towards his face.

(1217 words according to Google Docs)