No one knew where the creature emerged from. It descended from above and floated over the heads of the onlookers. The audacious few eased in closer to get a better view. The rest of us stood back anticipating the worst, waiting patiently for the brave ones to return to tell us what it was.
"Is it a giant squid? Is it an octopus?" we asked upon their retreat from the giant creature.
"No, it's a Spinosaur," the expedition leader stated. "It's a descendant from dinosaurs, a water dweller," he continued.
We stepped back even further, expecting the spinosaur to attack one of us with its spider-like tentacles. The spinosaur moved with us. It became a choreographed dance, as we moved, he moved. Left. Right. Forward. Back. He followed, and we got frightened. With no other ideas, we continued the dance moving backward, faster and faster until we were nearly running. Our attempted escape route hit a sudden end when we reached the edge of the river. We slowed and looked to one another for a plan to save us, or at least, most of us. At this point self-sacrifice seemed inevitable and a very real option. Before we could decide our plan, the water dinosaur moved away from us, toward the water. He waved his tentacles, as if to say "thank you" for guiding him back to his home. We stood in shock at our change of fortune and tentatively waved back.
To this day, if you look hard enough at the river, sometimes you can spot the spinosaur waving.
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