Hybrid Genome: Triceratops base, Stegosaurus spliced.
Size:
37 feet long, 11 feet at the shoulder, 12 tons (bull).
32 feet long, 8 feet at the shoulder, 9 tons (cow).
Diet: Herbivore.
___________________________________________
Zach pressed his lips together nervously as he watched the herd's lead bull with wary eyes.
They hadn't been in the paddock more than a few minutes—just long enough for Dr. Gerry Harding to step out of the Jeep and begin a visual check—when the Stegoceratops alpha stopped at the edge of the herd and turned his full attention toward them. The massive animal went completely still, head lowered slightly, eyes fixed.
He looked far too interested.
Gerry didn't like it either. "Let's do this quick. I'll scan the herd—tell me if he starts pawing."
Owen shifted in the passenger seat, eyes locked on the bull's horns. "Is he gonna charge us?"
"Yes."
That answer didn't help.
The alpha's straight horns jutted forward like twin lances, each nearly eight feet long. His frill bore four massive slash scars, pale and jagged against thick hide—marks that only something truly dangerous could have left behind. The caretakers called him Red Crown, a name earned from the vivid coloration that flooded his frill when he was agitated.
He was one of the few mature males in the park, and the difference showed. Nearly fifty percent heavier than the largest cow, his shoulders bulged with muscle, and the plates lining his back rose higher than any other Stegoceratops in the herd. Four thagomizers tipped his tail, each spike thick as a forearm at the base.
Gerry worked quickly, keeping his movements measured.
Red Crown flared his nostrils and let out a deep, thunderous bellow that rolled across the plains. His frill flushed bright orange-red, plates darkening as his posture stiffened.
"That's good enough," Gerry said sharply, scrambling back into the Jeep.
As the engine roared to life, the bull reared slightly, roaring again—then charged.
"He's chasing us," Owen said, voice calm despite the horned titan barreling toward them.
"I know," Gerry replied, glancing at the speedometer. "He can hit thirty, but he won't keep it."
The ground shook as Red Crown thundered after them, horns lowered, tail swinging wide. After nearly two hundred yards, his pace slowed. He bellowed in frustration and veered aside, slamming his skull into a palm tree and snapping it like kindling.
As if to underline the warning, he lashed his spiked tail through nearby brush, ripping an entire shrub from the ground and flinging it skyward.
Zach let out a shaky whistle. "He's… not exactly friendly."
"Could be worse," Gerry said. "He doesn't charge gyrospheres anymore."
"That's supposed to make me feel better?" Owen muttered.
"He smelled predators," Gerry continued. "You. Raptors don't sit well with him."
Zach frowned. "So he's protecting the herd."
"That's putting it mildly."
They slowed as Red Crown turned back, posture easing as the Jeep put distance between them. One of the cows approached, nudging his flank with a low grunt. He answered in kind, resuming his place at the herd's edge.
"How's he still alive?" Zach asked quietly. "After everything."
Gerry glanced back at the plains. "You remember when the Indominus Rex broke out?"
Owen grimaced. "Hard to forget."
"She came here hunting," Gerry said. "Thought she'd scatter the herd."
"She didn't," Owen said.
"No," Gerry agreed. "Red Crown didn't let her."
Zach swallowed. "He killed the Indominus?"
"Instinct versus instinct," Gerry replied. "She went for his frill. He crippled her leg. After that, it was over."
Far behind them, Red Crown stood watch, massive frame unmoving until the scent of carnivores faded completely.
Only then did he relax.
Red Crown was stubborn like that.And the herd was still alive because of it.