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5035: Mute

The wind howled through the icy landscape, carrying stinging shards of snow that bit into the skin of any creature caught in its gales. Everything in sight was obscured by a thick veil of mist and layers of snow. Sergeant, a fully grown cryolophosaurus with a striking green cape of colour complementing his otherwise black and dark grey coat, trudged through the blizzard with heavy steps. His feathers and thick skin shielded ...

The sky was heavy with low, gray clouds as Mute trudged through the frozen brush of snowed-over forestland, her breath leaving fading trails in the chill air. The sound of snow crunching beneath her clawed feet was swallowed by the icy wind whistling across the tundra. Mute’s dull red eyes scanned the white world, but today she wasn’t hunting or seeking victims. With her mind preoccupied, her jaws clamped tightly around an odd assortment of items usually no use to her: frozen berries, dri...

What was it the odd chicken wanted? Oh, right, trash. Mute should’ve eaten him when she had the chance, but the absence of the reputable shopkeeper would likely bring her far more trouble than she would be bothered with. The leggy oviraptor practically jumped her earlier- far too trusting she won’t take a bite out of that luscious plummage of his- and just babbled and rambled on unbothered that he’d need materials and what not. Something, something, he wanted her to do som...