The location where the dialect camped should have been more than 300 meters above the ground, according to his own eyesight.

And the geological changes of 150 million years make it impossible for dialects without precise positioning tools to know whether they will appear on the ground or ...... when they return to modern times.

More than 300 meters in the air?

It was a very serious question, and he struggled with it for a long time at night.

……

Early in the morning, as usual, I woke up to the cry of the little pterodactyl, "Wow! Phew! It seems to have become a timed alarm clock for dialects......

As is customary, Fang Yan wrenched a biscuit and fed it to the little pterosaur before looking up at the bright sun.

In fact, he also considered returning to the modern day with a little pterodactyl, but the death of the mouse made him break the idea.

Moreover, even if the little pterosaur goes back alive, is it really its destination in modern times?

The tongue doesn't know, and I don't want to know,

He always knew that he was just a passerby, and if he stayed in Jurassic for the rest of his life, maybe in the end, suicide would be the best outcome.

It's not appalling, it's not pessimistic,

Why did Robinson live on a desert island for 28 years, because of dogs, wild people, and hope to return to society......

Shaking his head, the dialect emptied his boring thoughts and looked around.

The little pterosaur had returned to the hut and cowered inside, seemingly fond of the trimmed nest.

Fang Yan looked at it and smiled, and took a step to the way down the mountain.

Although the road was a little drier, it was still damp, and when I stepped lightly on my foot, a shoe print appeared.

Between the spirit of scientific research and his life, Fang Yan still chose his own life, he didn't want to try the feeling of free fall at an altitude of 300 meters.

Sighing, Fang Yan walked back again, it was still early, and he only needed to walk to the flat ground before dusk, so there was no need to rush.

Back in the tent, he began to pack up what he needed to take with him, but it wasn't much.

It's good to bring a set of summer clothes, so as not to wear a combat uniform when you go back, which looks a little high-profile.

It's better to take the rifle home, but it needs to be disassembled into parts, the pistol is pinned to the waist, and the bullet is just two magazines.

The tablet must be brought, and this can also be used for positioning at that time, and you can also talk to people from the national security side, and you can also take it out to play when you are bored.

All the sabers were stuffed into the backpack, a little rations of military rations, and two bottles of water......

Dressed in a suit, suited, looking at the small backpack that couldn't fit anything, Fang Yan thought about it and put the camera aside.

Almost......

Fang Yan thought, walked out of the tent, came to the little pterodactyl's hut, put something on the ground, and sat down.

"I'm leaving!" The dialect said, "You won't see me anymore!" ”

The little pterosaur blinked and tilted its head, revealing curiosity and confusion.

"Forget it, you don't understand it either...... Fang Yan sighed, sat down quietly, and looked into the distance.

The little pterosaur may be his only friend in this era, and even though he can't understand what it says, it can't understand what it says......

But that's how wonderful the world is, isn't it?

……

"Let's keep a memento!"

After a long time, Fang Yan turned his head to look at the little pterosaur and said, turned back to the tent, dismantled a piece of the shell of the metal ammunition box, and then took a pen from the side.

"Dialect - pterosaur, testimony of friendship, 150 million years before history, dialect remains."

A line of words was crookedly engraved on the metal shell by the dialect, and the little pterosaur looked at it, stroked its mouth with its meat wings, and opened its eyes, as if it was curious about what the dialect was doing.

"That's it!"

Fang Yan was busy for a while, and all the ink of the pen was applied to the scratches, and the words that were not clear became clearly visible.

"The handwriting is ugly, don't pay too much attention to it!" Fang Yan smiled, looked at the confused little pterodactyl, put the metal sign on top of the wooden house, turned around and went back to get a piece of rope out.

A military dagger was used to make a hole in the metal shell, and the dialect was threaded with a rope and tied to the wooden house.

"That's it!" Fang Yan clapped his hands, put the military dagger back down, and looked at his watch, it was already noon.

After thinking about it, Fang Yan returned to the tent, took a pack of compressed biscuits, then took the camera and returned to the front of the wooden house.

"Little one, you come back every morning to call the door, but there is nothing to eat!" Fang Yan hung the camera in front of him, unwrapped the biscuits, and pinched a piece for the pterodactyl.

"Wow! Phew! ”

The pterosaur shouted, reaching out and taking the biscuit in its mouth, swallowing it, and looking up at the dialect again.

"Wow! Phew! ”

Fang Yan couldn't stand its little eyes, and broke another piece of the biscuit with a smile, and said, "Okay, okay, I'll give you another piece!" ”

The little pterosaur stretched out its slender mouth again, took it in its small teeth, tilted its head slightly, swallowed, and looked at the dialect again.

"It's gone!" Fang Yan shoved the biscuit into his mouth, spread his hands, and muttered.

"Wow! Phew! The little pterosaur continued to shout, seeming a little grumbling.

"It's not that I won't give it to you, you have to know that I'm doing it for your good!" Fang Yan chewed the biscuit in his mouth, swallowed it in one gulp, and then quickly drank two sips of water.

He didn't plan to leave any compressed biscuits for the little pterodactyl, compressed biscuits, focusing on the word "compressed", in case he ate too much, it would also be a trouble for the little pterodactyl.

Like people, animals also have diarrhea, and their digestive ability is also limited, just like raising cats and dogs, it is not good to eat too much.

"Wow! Phew! ”

"Don't move!" Fang Yan held up his camera.

The little pterosaur in the lens opened its mouth slightly, looked at the dialect, and showed a puzzled look.

"Click!"

A soft sound came, and the time on the photo was forever frozen at this moment......

……

"Alright, it's almost time." Fang Yan looked at his watch and sighed, stood up, looked at the wooden house, and turned around silently.

The sun has reached its peak of radiance, and the originally warm sunshine has brought a trace of heat, and the sound of insects has flourished a lot......

Back inside the tent, Fang Yan took off the memory card from the camera, put it in a plastic bag, wrapped it and put it in the backpack.

Looking around, my eyes focused on the plastic bags on the ground, which were gifts from the little pterosaur yesterday.

Fang Yan smiled, unloaded the backpack, put the scarab and praying mantis that still had vitality in it, put the backpack back on, put the helmet on, and walked out.

Before walking to the road down the mountain, Fang Yan looked back at the wooden house he had built with his own hands, waved his hand, and sighed softly,

"Goodbye, little one......"