The First Setback

The air crackled with an energy that was decidedly *not* festive. Dr. Aris Thorne, clutching his battered notebook like a shield, squinted at the blur of teeth and claws that was currently attempting to dismantle a perfectly good, albeit somewhat dented, police car. “Remarkable,” he muttered, scribbling furiously. “The coordination. It’s almost… intelligent.”

Rexy ‘The Roar’ Sterling, ever the professional, had managed to find a relatively intact lipstick in the glove compartment of said police car and was applying a fresh coat of ‘Apocalypse Red’ with unwavering focus. “Intelligent? Darling, they’re just trying to get a better angle on us. Honestly, the lack of professional lighting is just *appalling* for a chase scene this dramatic.” She paused, tilting her head. “Nibbles, darling, could you possibly get a tighter shot on my pout? The lighting’s just not doing me any favors.”

Nibbles, currently perched precariously on Thorne’s shoulder, gave a series of indignant squeaks, his tiny paws scrabbling at the paleontologist’s tweed jacket. He nudged Thorne’s ear, then pointed a determined claw towards the rapidly approaching pack of velociraptors. These weren’t the lumbering, easily distracted beasts of Malakor’s earlier, more *artistic* displays. These were lean, mean, and terrifyingly efficient. They moved like a well-oiled, reptilian machine, their sickle claws glinting in the afternoon sun.