(hardVore. male pokemon pred. disposal)
The scent of the previous Tauros' saliva still clings to your tiny body, though you get the feeling the scent of bull would permeate the air even if your body wasn't fresh out of a what amounts to a car-wash courtesy of that Tauros' gigantic tongue. The saliva isn't the only aspect of the Tauros that's still clinging to you. A stray tuft of fur the size of a spear is stuck to your body, snaking along your back, over your shoulder, and against your thigh as if it were an awkward tattoo. Little bits of mulched foliage cling to you as well. You could do for an actual bath right about now....
But hygiene is the last of your concerns, for another Tauros is already upon you. Gazing ahead of you, you are able to make out the colossal beast's form, though it is framed by surrounding blades of grass. Just a bit ahead of you, to the left and right, you see its building sized legs, each disappearing into the sea of grass. Although obscured by the underbrush, the Tauros possesses tremendous hooves capable of crushing entire buildings into flattened ruins. His underbelly has all the scale of the interior of an indoor stadium's ceiling...and at the far end of that ceiling dangles a vulgar stalactite of flesh, the Tauros' animal anatomy seemingly more fit to impregnate a mountain than a Miltank.
Your observations of the gigantic Tauros' underside are made all the more foreboding by the constant thundering of hoofbeats and bellowing of distant bulls. The Tauros is not the only in the pack, and you can see several others off in the periphery. The thought that each of them has a shaft big enough to drown you in its discharge is humbling, to say the least. And what are you to do?
Walking this field would be as much effort in futility as it would be fatal. At your current height you're scarcely able to keep track of yourself, let alone a dozen fast-moving giants whose hooves tread craters into the earth and whose maws deliver chomps with wide enough areas-of-effect to uproot entire gardens. Ultimately, the most direct route to safety is to get the attention of one of these forces of nature. You hid away from the last Tauros out of instinctive fear, a decision that nearly cost you your life. But perhaps if you actually let yourself be seen... perhaps you will be able to win his favor. Yes... that's it. Then, and only then, will you have a chance to make your way to safety.
You brace yourself, getting ready to commune with a god. You turn your head up to see... the Tauros descending maw! Blast! You've dawdled for too long! You sprint away across the dirt, diving forward onto your chest right as the Tauros' maw clamps down right behind you, the burst of sound loud enough to send a painful ringing through your ears. You roll onto your back, finding yourself little over an inch away from the massive wall of brown fur that is the Tauros' muzzle. Before you can regain your balance, the ground begins to rumble beneath your feet, as if the Tauros is channeling magic into the earth itself. What follows, however, is not the result of magic, even though it might as well be. The Tauros rips at the stalks of grass, the surrounding soil buckling from the force exerted upon it. A loud tearing noise reverberates as the Tauros lifts his head up, leaving a swath of empty air where once grass stalks stood. Grass particles dance in the air over the freshly hewed grasspatch, and as you step into the clearing you cannot help but sneeze.
You turn your attention up to the Tauros' muzzle. The Pokemon seems intently focused on his current mouthful. You should have enough time to get his attention. You race through the patch of freshly chomped grass, making your way to a curled grass stalk right beside it. As you ascend, you occasionally steal glances at the gigantic bull. You watch as what remains of the tree-sized grass blades gradually disappear into the Tauros' maw, a maw that seems to possess all the destructive power of a gigantic industrial combine. It's a sight that sends shivers down your spine, equal parts awe inspiring and frightful. Yet, even though you were in a maw just moments ago, you cannot bring yourself to fully fathom the danger it poses. The otherwise harmless sight of the Tauros munching on grass doesn't elicit the degree of fear it should... but your conscious realization that this apocalyptic beast is just an ordinary farm animal leaves you humiliated to the core.
You eventually scale your way up to the top of a blade of grass. This one happens to not be immediately in front of the Tauros. Close enough for you to be seen, but far enough to avoid getting devoured, assuming the Tauros attacks the field with a predictable trajectory, either thrusting his maw forward or moving it laterally... but not diagonally.
Your position is ideal. You're about to be in eye shot. The time is now!
You begin jumping up and down, waving your arms, screaming at the top of your lungs, anything to get the attention of the bull. The Tauros seems lost in its meal, the sound of its own teeth grinding the grass blades to shreds overpowering your tiny voice. But that's to be expected. You take a breather for a moment, until a hot snort that nearly sends you tumbling to the dirt below emerges from the Tauros' muzzle, heralding his victory over his last mouthful. Ok... NOW it's time!
You watch as the Tauros lowers his head down, thunderous thuds sounding out as he takes a slight step forward, his hoof smashing not too far from your position. You track his head's descend for a moment and realize you're in the clear. As his head nears a patch of grass not too far from your position you begin to shout. You cup your hands around your mouth and scream. You even go so far as to leap from one bent stalk to another, the grass rustling from your movements.
The Tauros' motions slow near to a halt, his open maw hanging just over the nearby grass patch. Looking up at his head, you catch a glimpse of his eye. You wave nervously to the Tauros, who at last seems to have spotted you. Thank the heavens this thing is a herbivore. "Hi! I'm a human!" You proclaim, glad to have finally gotten the attention of a (potentially) friendly Pokemon. You're not sure if the Tauros will know what to do with you, but you find yourself trusting the titan that has discovered you.
The Tauros snorts for a moment before adjusting his head thirty degreees to the west and taking a bite out of the grass, immediately trapping you in the darkness of his maw with a deafening CLACK. Roaring bursts of wind assail you as the Tauros grunts out in exertion. That modicum of exertion lasts for all of a few seconds, as he casually rips the grass from the soil. You scream out in fear and anguish, once more finding yourself in the maw of a Tauros. But why? He's a herbivore... he shouldn't eat me! And he directly saw you.
You ponder this from your helpless prison inside of the creature's maw. You are swept about the vast, dark expanse of his yucky maw as his teeth go to down on the grass. His tongue thrashes around against the foliage, every lap and thrust carrying with it the possibility that he might just lick you. You're in his maw for all of a minute before his tongue at last makes contact with you. And when it does, you are swiftly and methodically swiped to the right end of his maw. Your screams reverberate through the Tauros' cavernous maw, but go completely unheard.
You land atop a blunt tooth big enough to be a ceremonial alter. Before you can do anything beyond let out a pathetic scream, the Tauros smashes his teeth together, immediately breaking every bone in your body. The sound of your body crunching is not unlike that of a crouton crunching between a pair of teeth. And, unfortunately for you, your body is no more intact than a chewed up crouton is. With a simple grind of his teeth, the Tauros causes your tiny body to pop into little more than a smear. What little remains of you winds up getting swept up by the mulched grass.
As it turns out, 'crouton' is indeed an apt comparison for you. The Tauros had not initially intended to snack on anything other than grass... but the sound of a rustle in the grass lead him to pay further attention to the farm's offerings below. It was then that he noticed the source of the rustle. An insect of sorts squirming around in the grass . After a brief inspection he determined that the insect was likely not hazardous to eat. It was also liable to disappear should he give it the time. For a split second the Tauros compared the patch of grass he had initially intended to bite with the one bearing the humanoid insect, his evaluation not unlike a restaurant patron determining what part of a salad to dine on first. And like most patrons, he chose the most interesting one to eat. The little insect drew him in as if it were a crouton. And it gave a satisfying crunch when he ground it between his teeth.
The Tauros truly paid no heed to his prey. From his perspective, the distinction between insect and plant was borderline inconsequential. Both are a bounty offered from the earth, to help sustain him. True, some bugs are dangerous. But some plants have thorns, too. For all he knows, bugs may well be some form of nut to begin with.
He continued eating, as did the rest of the pack. He does not forget the bug-man, for he never truly acknowledged it as anything worth devoting thought to in the first place.
Thoroughly obliterated before even interesting his first stomach chamber, your body (or, rather, the drenched clump of mulched grass that absorbed your moist remains) pleads nolo contendere as it is drained of its energy and digested. You emerge a while later as nothing more than a mushy runny bull-ie.
YOU DIED
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