Meanwhile, back at the savanna, Rikjak was chewing down on some of the hunted bird-Wyvern. It had a primitive, fiery taste, but it tasted so good, Rikjak didn't even mind the fact he was eating fresh kill, usually he was fed regurgitated food from his parents maw. He looked up after the carcass was stripped and chirped<span style="color: #FF8000"> "That was nice, but we should think of finding some kind of spring up near the mountains, It would be a great spot to build my nest, and some steam vents would keep your eggs warm and safe." </span>And so, wiping the blood of his jaws, and preening his frills, Rikjak pressed onwards, making sure his two-headed chum wasn't too far behind.