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The Sandtide of the Windward Plains is a darkened hellscape flashed by countless lightning strikes overseen on high from railgunned tyrant. Whenever the blackened clouds blot out the sun most creatures had the sense to run and hide.
This, however, was no such beast, for it too was a desert monarch. One too big for a Rey Dau to hunt down unless truly desperate, and even then it’s aggression was only parallel to its dual-horned cousin.
The Monoblos is a rare flying wyvern, brown with red markings on its crest. They have the same relative structure to their Diablos brethren, however the tail and face were noticeably sharper with a bigger frill. Their beaks were narrower to feast on a more general plant diet besides cacti, and their most distinctive feature is the giant, long horn in the middle of its face. Only a true hero could take a creature of this measure down.
But today it was not out for blood or nutrients, no, it was here for love.
This male Monoblos was currently patrolling its territory of sandfilled, half dead plants, repeating a mating call every few minutes.
A rumble got his attention. Emerging from the ground was a female. Unlike the males, females in heat lost its brown pigmentation and displayed a white coloration, not unlike its Black Diablos relative. Though like the former, female Monoblos were exceptionally dangerous to most life forms.
Yet she heard his call. The first trial was over. She surveyed the area before locking eyes onto the male who summoned her. Blood rushed into her crest as she let out an ear piercing roar. She lowered her head and scraped one foot against the ground. A challenge. Now it was up to the male to reciprocate. Rounding on the female, the male Monoblos copied her position. It was time for the fight to commence.
As all things in their lives, the Monoblos mating ritual involved essentially a violent sword fight between individuals. Whether to fight off other males or engage the female directly, this was a test of character for the seeking male.
The joust was already underway. The two flying wyverns had scratches from where their horns grazed flesh. The male rounded on the female once more, rushing his horn towards the female’s face. She blocked the blow, both horns clashing as the female repositioned herself. Yet the male was undeterred, continuing to slash left and right while the female went on the defensive.
Though this is where the female unleashed an additional tactic. She lower her head as the male missed his next strike, and spun her tail at the male’s side. Unbalanced now, she took the advantage and lifted her head, slicing her horn vertically through the male’s face.
She clipped his left eye, blood seeping into his vision. He tried to go in for another attack. Only to be blocked and struck again, barely missing the blow. Another tail swipe from his left clashed with his horn, though he countered and swung at her side, marring the underside of her wing.
The male Monoblos could not afford to extend the fight. A few more consecutive blows could potentially shatter the horn, marking him an eternal bachelor. Their blood, too, would no doubt be attracting potential scavengers looking for an easy target. The female was weakening as well, but with less injury than he. One more hit, one tactical and brutal would secure this Monoblos’ victory and right to mate.
The Monoblos may be considered ‘flying wyverns’, but it was a known fact that did not possess the ability. Their wings no longer were used to fly.
The male Monoblos dug into the ground as fast as he could. There could be no delay for the female would undoubtedly unleash a devastating roar that would displace him underground. Wingarms evolved for digging carried him through the sand and propelled him upwards in front of the female. Quick on the reflex she too used her underdeveloped wings to jump backwards only to realize her mistake. As soon as his feet touched the ground he spun his tail directly into her wounded side. She let out an instinctive cry of pain.
He roared one last time and lowered his head. She in turn focused downwards, horn touching the earth. It was done.
The male had successfully earned the right to pass his genes down to the next generation, the female ensured a strong male to increase her offspring’s survival. She allowed him to guide her towards his den further under the sands for decompression after an intense brawl and…to engage in a more, traditional mating activity.
The young Monoblos would be positioned to enjoy their first few steps in life during the full season of the Plenty, taking every second to their advantage.
All while an unseen force shaped the land in its wake through its own unnatural power.