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In what was once northern California, a small settlement was nestled among the redwoods. Drake had come through this place often enough, and the people knew him well enough. At the very least, they didn't have someone with a crossbow keeping an eye on him anymore. Then again, not many people wanted to get close to someone who walked around with a dinosaur the same way people used to lead horses or cows.

Titus was a sweetheart though. His species was much smaller than the species made famous by Hollywood, standing around six feet at the tallest, and weighed in at just over a ton. But those bull-like horns weren't for show, and people kept their distance to avoid getting poked… or gored.

He made his way to the market. Drake had supplies he needed to sell or barter off. Better than that, he hoped that the people here had information about what was happening in the area. Information was key to staying alive outside the walls. What predators were in the area? What were the herbivores doing? Were there hostile groups nearby? Any and all information was crucial.

.

The marketplace wasn't terribly busy. Drake could smell meat being slow-roasted over a fire, hear people discussing different things. Transactions, the weather, family life. It was all very mundane, though there were pauses at the sight of a one-ton dinosaur carrying bags and baskets. Drake hitched Titus to a post and browsed the marketplace.

He first stopped at the booth selling food. A small theropod about the size of a chicken was being roasted. It was remarkable how similar its anatomy was to birds'. The stout woman on the other side of the table offered a smile. "What can I do for you?" she asked.

"Well I have some cured meat that I need to sell," Drake answered. "Juvenile Dryosaur. Nice and tender. I'd rather trade it before it goes bad or I get raided by someone or something looking for a meal." The woman nodded.

"Ah, I see," she said. "You could try Jon. Big guy. Buys and sells different foodstuff for travelers."

"Thank you," Drake said. "How much for a drumstick?"

"Have any nine millimeter rounds? Those tend to be a stable thing to buy and trade with around here." Drake nodded, digging out a small pouch of ammunition. He didn't need pistol rounds, but collecting them whenever possible was always a good idea for trade. He dug in the pouch, sorting the rounds by size. He figured out which were the nine-mil rounds and set them on the table. The woman examined them before nodding. She used a knife and a bit of tugging to free a drumstick from the roasted dinosaur, and Drake nodded in appreciation. "Pleasure doing business with you."

Drake made his way down the line of vendors. He was looking for a big man, huh?