A large creature comes charging into sight: A Graphorn—built like a saber-toothed tiger but with slimy tentacles at its mouth. Jacob screams and tries to back off, but Newt grabs hold of his arm, stopping him. NEWT You’re all right. You’re all right. The Graphorn moves closer to Newt. NEWT (stroking the Graphorn) Hello, hello! The Graphorn’s strange slimy tentacles rest on Newt’s shoulder, seeming to embrace him. NEWT So they’re the last breeding pair in existence. If I hadn’t managed to rescue them, that could have been the end of Graphorns—forever. A younger Graphorn trots straight up to
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