"I was never a fan of humanity's focus on accomplishment," the aged voice crackled over the radio. It was a historian. An educator, and a skeptic with a southern drawl, "we've always pushed towards whatever shiny future we think we can create, without ever thinking of if we should."

A young man with pale skin, long black hair and a girlish face rested his hands on the steering wheel of his car reached over to turn the volume control up by a couple of clicks. His dark chocolate eyes flicked briefly towards the scenery outside his window. He was passing by some farms, with rolled up marshmallow-like hay bales and fields being tilled by various feathered dinosaurs pulling carts that churned the dirt.

"These scientists who revived the first dinosaurs a century ago were ignorant to the long-term consequences of bringing back species that this planet can no longer support, and those consequences are coming up on us now."

The young man turned his eyes back to the road. Ahead of him, over a couple of hills was a small city peeking over the horizon, glistening in the evening light.

"Not even beginning to discuss the ridiculousness of the dinosaurs' fight for civil rights, the issue of even producing enough meat to feed a T-Rex or the dangers of apex predators from millions of years ago walking our streets at night-"

The young man turned off the radio, his features twisted into a dark scowl as dark, stormy clouds gathered overhead.. This young man's name was Kaspar, and he was driving to the nearest protest for Dinosaur rights.

Thirty minutes of driving came and went like fleeting snowflakes in a river. Soon, the young man's small grey car was instead of rolling fields and grassy plains, surrounded by towering skyscrapers, pedestrians dressed in monotone colors, and the occasional feathered dinosaur and group of protestors.

The sun shone through the cracks between buildings, catching the city smoke in its brilliant rays as Kaspar pulled into a parking lot. The moment he opened his car door, he was hit with the stench of the city. Piss and cigarettes.

Many small groups of protestors holding signs and shouting at the tops of their lungs lined the streets, growing larger and larger in numbers as Kaspar weaved his way through the crowds towards the epicenter of the protest.

"We've had enough of being slaves!" Cried a triceratops who was stopped in the middle of a street. Cars behind him expressed their dissapproval with sharp honks of their horns, but the dinosaur payed them no heed. The dinosaur continued, "We're just as smart and feeling as the rest of you humans! We deserve rights!"

Kaspar stuffed his hands into his pockets as he watched a woman push her way to the front of the crowd. She looked to be the business type, with a black suit and a pad of pen and paper. The sight of the tools made the weight of Kaspar's own pad and pen stick out against the young man's chest where they were stowed in his jacket.

"Vicky Elle. Wolf news reporter. Tell me, dinosaur-" The reporter tapped her pen against the pen and opened her mouth to continue, but the Triceratops spoke up first.

"I have a name. It's Frank."

"Right- well, Frank, it's been scientifically proven that your kind is just less intelligent than the human race. How could you say you're as smart as a human when your brain is the size of a peanut?"

The triceratops blinked and snorted indignantly, taking a step back as his eyes narrowed. Kaspar took a step away from the two as they stared each other down.

All this political talk gnawed at Kaspar's stomach. Its claws dug into his flesh and made him back away. It wasn't worth the trouble. The dinosaurs' freedom wasn't his problem. If their liberation was anything like his country's history of liberating slaves, being with the dinosaurs would land Kaspar in jail, or hurt. What would happen to his future then? The stormy clouds brought about Kaspar's "what if" thoughts loomed over him as he took a couple of steps backward, his eyes glued warily to the dangerous ancient reptile before him.

Before Kaspar could turn to leave, he bumped into a raptor with multicolored feathers that blended together to create a rainbow kaleidoscope of color. While Kaspar knew dinosaurs were colorful, this was fascinatingly irregular. Upon its snout, it wore glasses, and it had padded covers on its claws.

"Oh! I'm so sorry! Didn't see you there, girlie!" The raptor chirped, backing away from Kaspar. It bore a vibrant smile like a bouquet of flowers.

Kaspar just smiled a tight-lipped smile, pulling out a notepad and pen from his pocket. The young man scratched away at the pad for a brief moment before turning the pad of paper to face the raptor.

_"Sorry, can't speak, and I'm a boy."_

"Ahh, okay." The raptor's eyes squinted as it deciphered the English. "I'm Carlie! What about you?"

_"Kaspar."_

"Riiight-" Carlie pouted. Kaspar made a mental note that she was very expressive for a dinosaur. It almost put him at ease around the carnivore, but Kaspar's thoughts were cut short as Carlie continued, "tell me, why don't you speak?"

_"I can't."_

"You can't?"

Kaspar tapped the pad and paper using his pen, raising an eyebrow at the raptor. Upon closer inspection, it appeared that Carlie had somehow spray painted the vibrant colors over her feathers.

"Why?"

Kaspar rapidly tapped the pad of paper. Harder this time.

"Alright, alright." Carlie closed her mouth and glanced away and her feathery tail swung dangerously close to Kaspar's side. After a brief pause, Carlie turned back to the young man and gestured towards the heated debate between the news reporter and the triceratops. "So, that reporter lady, huh? There's a lot of nonsense coming from her mouth." Carlie's tone was almost hopeful as her eyes met Kasper's.

_"I don't know." _More scrawled words on the pad of paper. Kaspar hesitated as he saw the Raptor's eyes widen at reading the statment. He tried to add an amendment to his usual short answer,_ "It's just hard to tell if anything either side is true."_

__

__

"It's hard to tell if it's true!?" Carlie's jaw dropped, revealing her razor sharp fangs. Kaspar winced at the reaction, glancing around to see if the raptor's outburst had turned any attention towards him. He frantically scratched out an apology, but Carlie didn't let him finish before she went on, "We can talk! We can feel pain! Plus, slavery is wrong! What do you mean it's hard to tell!?"

_"Well, a lot of the people advocating for the dinosaurs are worse, or at the very least just as bad as the companies who mistreat them."_ Kaspar's hands trembled as he held out the pad, almost trying to use it as a shield between him and the angry dinosaur that seemed to bare its fangs.

Carlie had a stormy look on her face, and her presence loomed over Kaspar's very being. He was frozen to his spot as he saw dark clouds gather above him, gazing down at him as though to size up their prey.

But, just as Kaspar expected the raptor to lunge at him or launch into a flurry of angry shouting, Carlie stopped. She looked into his eyes, and took three long breaths in through her nose and out through her mouth. The storm clouds slowly dissipated, though shadows lingered.

"Let's assume that you're right," Carlie started, speaking slowly. Her eyebrows knitted together and her pupils focused on the space between Kaspar's eyes. She continued, "and the people who want equal rights for my people are bad. Does that make what they're fighting for bad?"

Kaspar blinked. It took him a couple of seconds of processing before he got to writing his response.

_"No."_

"So why not?" Carlie's muscles seemed to relax.

Once again, Kaspar stopped to ruminate on Carlie's question. Why didn't he want to? He'd want freedom if he was a slave.

_"I guess I'm just scared."_

__

__

"It's gotta be more than that, man," Carlie pouted. Despite her response, no storm clouds gathered overhead.

_"I don't know."_ A sigh escaped Kaspar's lips as he flipped his pad around to show Carlie what he had written.

"Alright. Do you want to protest with me then?" Carlie grinned, a full grin that showed off every single one of her fangs. A chill went through Kaspar's spine, but not out of fear. As he followed Carlie to the front of the crowd, approaching the Triceratops and the news reporter who still argued with furious sparks flying between them, Kaspar realized that the smile Carlie had shown him held more happiness than the greeting she had given him earlier. She was emoting naturally, and compared to the tight-lipped, oddly human expressions she made when they bumped into each other, this smile that showcased every one of her razor sharp fangs was more vibrant. Like the feeling of the sun in springtime.

"OI! GET OUT OF HERE, LADY!" Carlie roared as the pair finally pushed out of the front of the crowd. A thrilled grin crossed Kaspar's face as he heard Carlie. He imagined the expression on her face must have been fierce, but he didn't see. He was too busy sketching a quick image on his pad of paper.

When the reporter woman turned to respond to Carlie, her eyes went wide, and her face flushed red. Kaspar, with a wide, toothy grin on his face, was holding up his faithful paper pad, with a crude hand holding up a middle finger scrawled over the page he showed.

Protesting felt good, Kaspar thought to himself as the rest of the evening passed in a flash, and after he had said his goodbyes, and was sitting in his car to drive home, he wore a massive, toothy grin that showed off his (not quite) fangs.