Pterostaury

Pterosaur, oh Pterosaur, soaring the skies so high, what was the most
awesome sight, you ever did see as you did fly, between Big Bend canyon
walls, over lush forests now parched dry, over monsters awesome but now
forgotten? Was it the fearsome Allosaur, short front claws prepared to
tear, mighty tail gliding through the air, preparing to spar with a
small brained Stegosaur, a dangerous feast nonetheless, whose spiked
mace tail fatal could prove? Was it Triceratops' small nephew,
Protoceratops, small and hornless, sprinting along forest paths on two
hind legs, front legs pawing through the air, howling a primal
symphony? Was it the mighty Barapasaurus, sweeping its neck over an
acre of forest, lumbering through the world, dwarfing hill and dale,
swinging its powerful tail? Or was it a pack of Saurornithoides, those
tiny Tyrannosaurus tyrants, the terror of small mammals, sprinting
across Texas plain, scanning the land for prey with large, intelligent
eyes? Or was it a lady Pterosaur, gliding up the canyon to meet you,
with kite-like wings and bony reaper fingers, howling her ancient
mating song; did her beady eyes to you seem sweet?