The icy wind whipped through the barren, frosted treetops as Feldhofer trudged through the deep snow, his fur-lined boots crunching the crystallized ice with each heavy step. The once lush, verdant forests of Europa now stretched out before him as a desolate, frozen wasteland - a bleak expanse of skeletal branches and glittering, icy undergrowth beneath a slate-gray sky. The dinosaurs had returned, but the land they sought to reclaim was scarcely recognizable from the epoch they once called home.
Feldhofer adjusted the heavy ammunition pack strapped to his broad, muscular back, the metal frames digging into his calloused skin. As a human, he was spared the necessity of fighting on the frontlines, instead relegated to the menial task of hauling the lifeblood of war - the bullets and shells that would be fed greedily into the maws of the squad's weapons. The birds and their proto kin could not abide the weight of such encumbrances, preferring the freedom of soaring through the frigid air, raining death upon the foes below.
A cacophony of squawks, screeches, and the occasional hiss echoed from behind Feldhofer as his squad caught up to him.
Feldhofer trudged onward, the heavy ammo boxes swaying with each labored step. The squad of prehistoric paravian birds chattered and preened around him, their iridescent feathers shimmering in the dim light filtering through the snow-laden canopy.
One of the birds, a sleek and slender form named schnabel, stretched her wings with a satisfying crack. "Ahh, it feels good to fly again after being cooped up in that cramped transport," she cooed, her voice a melodic trill.
Her sister-in-arms, a robust and sturdy type called Taube, nodded in agreement. "Aye, and it's a right good thing command stuck us with our own pack animal. Wouldn't want to be hauling all this gear ourselves, now would we?" She shot a sidelong glance at Feldhofer, a hint of amusement in her molten amber eyes.
"But let's not forget, girls..." speakers the leader Gretchen, her voice sharp and cutting through the chatter. "Keep a close eye on our little human friend here. Wouldn't want him getting any funny ideas about abandoning us, now would we?"
The other girl, a lithe and agile creature called Meise, piped up from the back of the group. "Speaking of our pint-sized porter, where is she anyway? Shouldn't she be helping the big lug with all that ammo?"
Gretchen turned and fixed Meise with a withering glare. "Worry not, little bird. I'm sure our dear Kinder is just... taking a moment to appreciate the scenery. I've seen how she looks at him when she thinks no one sees." There was a hint of disdain in Gretchen's voice, as if the thought of the raptor favoring the human was the height of silliness.
The other girls burst into a chorus of trilled laughs and cackles, their voices echoing through the forest. "Well, as long as she doesn't eat him first," taunted another, a bird named Fokker with a wicked glint in her eye.
Gretchen waved a dismissive hand. "Hush now, you silly things. The boy's got a job, and that's helping us win this war. So let's focus on the task at hand and stop gossiping like a bunch of toves, eh?"
Sokolov trudged up to the group, her iridescent scales glinting in the dappled forest light. She was a mix of colors - soft pinks, greys, and creams, with hints of shimmering blue and green. "I am sorry, I got lost following that stream and lost track of time. I am still getting used to navigating in these woods," she explained, her voice a unique blend of accents, heavy with Siberian intonation.
"Ugh, how do you lot not get tired? And why are we not having a snack break already?" the achilobattor raptor complained. "I swear, even the human is keeping up better than I am. I'm so hungry, I've resorted to eating bugs off logs. Blegh!" she shuddered, picking a small beetle from her snout and flicking it aside.
Jinguofortis, the slender Chinese proto-bird, turned to Feldhofer with a melodic lilt in her voice. "Ah, Feldhofer, I think the missile is too heavy for me to carry on my own. You should keep this pistol close by, okay? With your feet on the ground, you may need it more." She held out the sleek, black luger to him and at her side she carried a MP40 submachine gun.
( she was clearly doing this as a veiled gesture to tell him that things weren't safe with this dinosaur around but it was implied. )
Feldhofer gripped his own pistol, the Feather Knocksoft Automatic Pistol Ortgies 9mm, tightening his hold on it. He scratched his head, unsure how to respond to the sudden offer. "Wow, uh,I mean, thanks I guess," Feldhofer replied, still trying to process the unexpected offer. "But I'm not sure if it's a good idea for me to be armed. I'm just here to support you girls." He glanced uncertainly at the pistol in his hand, then at the other birds murmuring amongst themselves.
"Is that sensible, letting the monkey have a gun?" Papahele sniped.
Taube turned to Papahele, a wry smile on her beak. "Well, they let you carry a missile, so I suppose the standards must be in the dirt now. The times are desperate indeed."
"Shut up, Taube," Schnabel snapped, fluffing her emerald-green wings in irritation. Her voice had a touch of the British Isles in its cadence.
Meise chuckled, a melodic trill that sounded almost like the chirping of her namesake bird. "Hey now, we gotta make do with what we've got. There's a real shortage of bird power out here, in case you hadn't noticed."
Feldhofer, puzzled, scratched his head. "Don't you mean manpower? I'm just a human, after all."
"No, we mean bird power," Meise clarified, her eyes glinting. "And if we meant non-birds, we'd say 'woman power'. You're a special case, Feldhofer."
Gretchen, the leader, fixed Feldhofer with a piercing gaze, her voice dripping with condescension. "I bet you wish you were in the arms of some sweet girl right now, don't you? Coddling you and letting you make her a sandwich like a good little nest-husband. That's what you males are suited for, isn't it? War and fighting, hmmph!"
Feldhofer blinked in confusion at Gretchen's dismissive remark about men and their supposed roles. "Uhh, what does that even mean?" he asked, annoyance and bewilderment coloring his tone.
Papahele leaned in, her eyes narrowing as she studied Feldhofer with keen interest. "Is it true what they say about humans? That your kind is mostly male, and it's the men who do all the fighting and such? That seems rather... primitive."
Meise scoffed, her voice laced with disdain. "Men as leaders? That's the most asinine thing I've ever heard! If humans truly operate that way, it's no wonder they're little more than dumb beasts. Dinosaurs, birds, archosaurs - we're all led by women, and that's why we dominate this world. It's basic logic."
Taube stroked her chin thoughtfully, her gaze drifting over Feldhofer's unremarkable human form. "Aye, I suppose you have a point, Meise. Most civilized species are predominantly female, and it makes sense not to risk the few males they have. I can't imagine what it must be like to be a species made up of mostly guys. Seems rather... fragile."
Schnabel shuddered, her nose wrinkling in distaste as she eyed Feldhofer. "Damn, maybe I could finally have a boyfriend, but... I don't really like monkeys. They smell weird. In fact, I don't like how he has no feathers, no scales, no claws... He's just so plain and soft. Disgusting."
Gretchen, ever the enigmatic leader, shrugged nonchalantly. "Yeh, humans do look rather peculiar, don't they? But I suppose there's a certain charm to their... simplicity. I could see myself taking one home, like a pet dogfish shark, to be honest. If he wasn't technically the property of the N.E.S.T., that is."
Feldhofer stared at her, utterly baffled. "Excuse me? What the hell is a dogfish shark? And what do you mean, I'm 'public property'? I'm not some damn pet!"
Gretchen just smirked, her eyes glinting with amusement. "Oh, you poor dear. I suppose you really don't get out much, do you? Never mind. Next thing you'll be telling me you don't know what a catfish is."