But it looks tasty!

A soft, rhythmic grinding could be heard as Doog chewed some of the long, tough grasses that lined the shore. And chewed. And continued to chew. And then chewed some more. Chewing as endless and relentless as the waves that steadily rolled onto the beach. The hatchling sprawled on his belly on the soft sand, grunting a little as he worked on turning the stringy, fibrous mass into something halfway palatable. Finally, he titled his head back and swallowed, gulping it down in a hastily awkward way that might make an observer wonder if he'd really finished chewing, or had simply gotten too impatient to continue bothering. Then he laid his head down with a sigh, rolling over onto his side and kicking at the sand irritably. Lately it had always been like this for every meal every day, the same old tough shore grass over and over again, with only the occasional small leafy thing for variety. That, or the oh so salty seaweed that he still could hardly stand the smell of, let alone the taste.

Doog was tired of it. He wanted something different for once! Or at least something tastier.

With a soft snort he rose to his feet again, taking a moment to shake loose the fine grains of sand that inevitably lodged in his sand-colored down. He was still hungry, of course, but he wasn't so hungry that he needed to eat more right now. Maybe he could still mange to find something else that somebody had overlooked. He vaguely was aware that he really wasn't supposed to wander off on his own, but he shouldn't have to go far. Just a little bit beyond the beach, away from the wind and salt spray that only the toughest plants seemed able to withstand. A brief and short walk, a quick and better-tasting meal, and then back again before anyone noticed. A perfect, completely foolproof plan to solve such an important and imperative problem.

His course of action decided, Doog started making his way away from the shore, scrambling over sandy dunes and clambering up the far bank. It was a little steep in this area, so it took him a several moments and more than a few tries, but eventually he was able to pull himself up over it. There, above the bank, he was rewarded with the sight of... even more grasses. Grasses and rocks in all directions, and maybe a short, woody shrub or two to break up the monotony. He could see trees further off in the distance inland, of course, but it was hard to tell from his low vantage point whether there was anything growing low enough that he could actually reach among them. Not to mention that it might be too far for him to get to without being missed and called back, anyway. Slightly disheartened, but not ready to give up just yet, Doog set about searching the immediate area anyway, as thoroughly as possible.

Unfortunately for him, most of what he found was, well, grass. And still more grass. There was perhaps a little more variety of kinds of grasses up here, but they were still just grass, and having come this far, Doog didn't want to settle for another version of the same so easily. More searching found some equally tough-looking and spiny weeds, which were even worse, and a few tiny, tender seedlings just sprouting. Those Doog gobbled up, but they barely merited any thought, hardly amounting to even a mouthful combined. He continued a little further, then, finally coming to the reluctant conclusion that maybe there was nothing up here after all, turned to begin to circle back to where he came.

That was when he spotted it. A series of broad, thick, dark green leaves splayed outward across the ground from a stem so short they might as well simply be sprouting directly from the dirt. In the middle of the leaves a small cluster of pointed, cup-shaped violet flowers stood out. Intrigued, Doog trotted over to the unknown plant, circling and sniffing at it. It did look tasty, with those big and lush leaves, and it was definitely the biggest thing he'd found yet, but it still was low-ground and not all that large. Fortunately, however, as it happened all it took was a little inquisitive pawing at the ground under it to reveal a nice, thick root that forked into a couple of funny-shaped prongs. Why, with this, it should keep him full for whole hours! Pleased with himself and his lucky find, Doog leaned in, beaked mouth gaping wide to gulp it down... And then suddenly froze in place, not moving a muscle as a large shadow blocked out the sun and loomed over him.

"Doog," came a voice as gentle as gentle as sea spray, as soft as waves lapping the shore. "That one is poison."

Doog closed his mouth and slowly turned, looking back behind and above. A patchwork of grays and beige filled his vision as he stared up at Cordea, looming over so close to him he had to crane his little neck back to see her. "... Poison?" he asked, all questions about how she even found him so soon, let alone managed to approach without him even noticing, forgotten in his surprise.

The older Styracosaurus nodded sagely, then spoke in her quiet tone. "Should you eat that, you will become dizzy and disoriented. Your head will ache and your heart will race. Your tongue will dry and your skin will burn Your vision will blur and yet you will see wild visions. It has its uses, at times, but is not to simply be eaten."

"Oh." Doog sat back on his haunches, staring at the plant as if doing so could somehow give him more or better answers while he thought over what he'd been told. "What if... What about a little bit?" he finally asked, in a hopeful tone.

"It is still poison," was the calm and implacable reply. "Remember this, should you find it again."

With that, Cordea turned to go, apparently satisfied that she had conveyed all that she needed to say on the matter. Doog rose and started to dutifully follow, as now that he'd been found the others would be expecting him to come back, then hesitated, glancing back at the plant sprawling across the ground again. With it's lush, green, delicious-looking leaves. "But there's nothing else good to eat here!" he cried. "It's always grass, and grass, and more grass. I'm tired of grass!" He punctuated the last bit with a little stomp of his foot, just to show how angry he was. If that had any effect on Cordea, well, she didn't show it, seeing as how she barely paused to glance back and respond.

"There is always the sea's bounty, as well, which is plentiful here," she replied, then continued on her way.

That was most definitely not the answer the little hatchling wanted to hear, and he sank to the ground once more in a stubborn sulk. Even the grasses were a little salty from the sea spray and wind, if he didn't even like that much, how could anyone expect him to eat the much, much saltier weeds that grew in the water itself? Not to mention that it had been the very toughness of trying to chew those grasses that had started him off on his quest in the first place. He didn't like it, and it just wasn't fair at all.

Doog lay there for another few minutes, quietly bemoaning his clearly terrible fate. Eventually, though, his stomach began to remind him of how he'd cut his previous meal rather short in favor of going off looking for better food. Only just a little bit, at first, but then more and more insistently, until eventually there was simply no more ignoring it. He snorted sharply, then finally clambered back to his feet. He still didn't like being stuck eating nothing but grass or--shudder--seaweed, but he liked feeling hungry even less than that. And the more time passed, the hungrier and hungrier he got. In fact, if this continued, he felt like he was going to get closer and closer to outright starving at this rate. He'd just have to deal with it and eat something, no matter how boring or tough or disgusting it was. Although...

He cast one last glance over at the violet-flowered plant, the one that Cordea had told him was poisonous. With its lush-looking and sprawling green leaves, and its large and thick root with the funny shape. Surely it wouldn't hurt to have just a little nibble? Maybe just one leaf, for the sake of a bit of variety and flavor, and then he could go eat the shore grass for the rest of the day. If that's all, he'd be fine, right? Most things were only really poisonous if you ate too much of them, weren't they?

A few days and a lot of sick later, Doog was so utterly famished that he didn't complain once about just eating the shore grass.