There was something odd about the sound. It took Thorne a moment to realize what it was. It came from more than one source: more than one big animal, purring beyond the foliage directly ahead. Thorne bent over, picked up a handful of grass, and released it in the air. The grass blew back toward his legs: he was downwind. He slipped forward through the foliage. The ferns around him were huge and dense, but up ahead he could see sunlight shining through, from a clearing beyond. The sound of purring was very loud now. There was another sound as well—an odd, squeaking sound. It was high-pitched,
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OH FUCK! Is he at the trex nest?
