You’ve got the windpipe there. You’ve got the jugular vein, which if opened up will mean that that Sauroposeidon is dead meat. 

 

But death does not come quickly or pleasantly. For a pack of Deinonychus, a kill this big means a feast. And their skulls are specially designed for competitive eating. Its jaws are narrow and lightly built. And its gums are equipped with 70 sharp, serrated teeth. They’re like walking piranhas, perfect at eviscerating a victim. 

 

If you look at the teeth carefully, they’re ridiculously small. They are very, very delicate. They’re not killing weapons. 

 

A single adolescent Sauroposeidon, an animal more than 10 times the size of its killer can feed a pack of hungry Deinonychus for weeks, making the kill worth the effort and the risk. 

 

Texas, 68 million years ago, here death comes not only from well-armed gargantuan dinosaurs, sometime it swoops down from the sky on the wings of a flying reptile, Quetzalcoatlus. 

 

A Quetzalcoatlus could be kind of seen as a Cretaceous stealth bomber, air-to-ground weaponry at its finest. 

 

They weren’t big, fragile kites. They were big, mean, terrifying bats from hell.

 

Quetzalcoatlus is arguably the largest, most sophisticated animal ever to fly. A wingspan of almost 12 meters holds aloft a body weighing 180 kilograms.