Metaplacenticeras. Upper Cretaceous. Hokkaido. Japan
Smilodon, Roy G. Krenkel
It had been a turbulent summer. The sky was always moving, always changing, islands of clouds skimming below the blue, ushering seas of grey and waves of rain every day. Smilodon spent more time than usual on the lee sides of outcroppings, huddled against stone to keep out of chilling showers. Lighting cracked at nearby trees, drew searing lines between earth and sky. The ground was soggy and uncomfortable underfoot after these storms. The cat was miserable.
And it was happening again. The sky heaved layers of white and slate, piled into thunderheads pushing gusts of cold air over the valley. The proboscideans didn’t seem to mind. Maybe they were too massive to care about wind and clouds. Maybe the sky wasn’t dark enough to warrant attention.
There were a few calves in the group. They squeaked between the adults’ trumpets, gamboled under their mothers’ swaying tree-trunk legs, and pulled dead branches from undeserving bushes.
Smilodon watched the mammoths, drooled when it saw the babies. The breeze swept up from the valley and filled its nose with the smell of the things. But it would be stupid to go after a mammoth calf alone. The wind moved again, brought the smell of oncoming rain, and the cat sulked back to the rocks to wait out the next storm.
Roy G. Krenkel was born on this day in 1918.
So a while back I did an illustration of an unnamed small theropod dinosaur (nicknamed “Lori”) to help raise funds and awareness for research. She got a name yesterday! Check out Hartman et al’s paper describing the new dinosaur:
NOM NOM NOM!!! “Rare fossil in a fossil reveals a dinosaur’s surprising last meal” https://ift.tt/2G6pBmY