The boiling midday sun shone above the grasslands. The sun itself was hot, but the grasslands were experiencing a bit of a breeze, as winter was a few weeks away.

It took little to appreciate the light wind.

Most dinosaurs may not even understand what wind was, but humans, who shared an IQ bell curve that put them in the category of the conscious, could appreciate today's nice weather.

Many humans within a five-hundred mile radius used the wind to wash, and dry their clothes. Hygiene was never a priority to them, but some days simply had to be put into good use.

Hundreds of men that marched across the grasslands also appreciated the cool wind.

They've been walking for days, camping only at night, sleeping with one eye open to avoid being torn through by predators.

They haven't had a good time in their travels, that goes without saying, so the cool wind was quite a refreshment for them. In a way, they could feel the wind tearing through their sweat, drying it whole. They started feeling less itchy, and therefore more comfortable.

Their motive, their mission seemed a little bit easier to them now. They felt certain that they were going to destroy the one and only tribe that inhabited the grasslands.

An hour later into their travels, one of the many men spotted a dinosaur in the sky. The brigade panicked a bit, because they could recognize the species.

A terrifyingly big flying dinosaur, which they liked to call a Long Nose, circled a few hundred feet above them.

The couple of tribal Chiefs within the brigade, their name respected, and holding value, insisted that everyone ignored the Long Nose. Unless it decided to swoop down, and try to have one of them as its meal, the Long Nose was not worth worrying about.

The men and women within the brigade listened, and kept charging forward.

Minutes later, a man shouted, "Another one! There's another Long Nose!"

"Ignore it!" A Chief chirped like an angered dinosaur. "What do you suppose we do, rock for brains? Fly up there and kill them?"

"I don't like this, Chief," The man said, "I never saw Long Noses flying close to each other. Maybe that Dinosaur Tamer is up there?"

"He's dead you moron," The Chief yelled, "He… lost his head… Hahaha!"

"Right," The man chuckled, and managed to calm down a little bit.

Half-mindedly, he then looked up, and noticed something odd. He could not see the Long Noses anymore.

Worse yet, the sun itself seemed like it was blocked in an instant! Several beams of light did pierce through the sky, as the sun tried to make its rays ever present, but he knew that something odd was going on.

"The Long Noses shat on us!" The man cried out, "Take cover!"

The brigade started panicking. Poop, or shit wasn't exactly feared under normal circumstances, but the hunters were battle-hardened enough to understand how heavy dinosaur poop was. Or in other words, plentiful.

The brigade couldn't run away from it right now, so they simply stopped walking, held their arms over their heads, and hoped that the dino poop wouldn't land on them.

Seconds later, a wave of screams echoed across the brigade. Bones cracked, skin tore, and muscle tendons were torn into shreds as the dino poop crash-landed on them!

The same Chief that kept discarding the threat the Long Noses posed, saw five of his men, people he had known for three decades, lose their lives. Their skulls caved in.

"No…" He held his breath.

The Chief was okay himself. He escaped the poop attack, he got lucky, but moments later, he bent over, and tried to see if there was anything he could do to help his injured men.

"Dead…" He sighed.

Then he looked up, and noticed that the Long Noses were gone.

"Fuck…" He grunted, "Maybe that fucking moron was right? Long Noses aren't supposed to fly together."

The Chief then looked back down, and spotted several bloody, head-sized rocks.

Close to the rocks, he saw two decaying, severed heads.

"I didn't know dinosaurs ate rocks…" He mumbled, "This doesn't make sense."

The Chief was then pushed, and knocked over by a tide of panicking men and women. They were retreating as if a giant Fat-Neck was chasing after them.

"Where are you going, you cowards!" He barked.

The brigade retreated. Over two hundred of them. They were heading back towards the forest, directly adjacent to the grasslands. The forest was a day away from them, at the very least, but they gathered some wisdom, and decided that the forest was a lot safer than the grasslands.

A minute later, only two people remained in the bloodbath that was inflicted upon them from the sky. The Chief, and another Chief.

They looked at one another from afar, and then they looked around them. They weren't being chased by anything, there weren't any huge dinosaurs coming towards them, and yet the entirety of what remained of the brigade had retreated.

The tribal Chiefs were confused, but then they took another look at the victims, their friends. Some were at their last breaths, trampled by their own friends, and yet too injured to move ever since the sky condemned their presence.

Tens of head-sized rocks were spread across the scene, engulfing the area where the fifty victims laid. Along with the rocks, there were over one-hundred severed heads, some splattered, some cracked open, but heads nonetheless.

"Where did all these heads come from?" One of the Chiefs asked, "Our wounded still have their heads on them… unless headless men can run now?"

The other Chief then ran forward, and shouted, "Are you stupid? We have to run!"

"Run?" He jerked his head up, "Cowardice is punishable by death!"

"Fuck that!" The other exclaimed, "You don't see what's going on, are you? This was a warning! They killed off the tribes from the Middle Hills!"

"How can you be sure?" The Chief asked.

"What do you figure?" He asked, "They had a bunch of heads on stand by? This was not the work of a Long Nose, brother, I stepped on the head of Chief Niles."