When I first happened upon the inlet that I now call home, I spent many a day exploring the coast around it. On a particularly sunny afternoon, when the air was full of the sweet scent of ripe berries dangling off their bushes in clumps of color, I walked East, and happened upon an Iguanodon.

It was a noble creature, meandering across the flower-speckled sand with its head held high. It’s hide was a creamy tan, dotted with orange speckles and it’s spine covered in a long dark stripe.

Cautious of the glossy black spikes protruding from the animals thumbs, I sent a bola twirling towards it’s feet. The Iguanodon trumpeted furiously, immobilized, as I moved in with a crude wooden club, intent on striking the dinosaur unconscious.

Foolishly, I stepped within range of the creatures arms, and paid for it with a painful slash across my forearm from one of those wicked thumb spikes.

Bleeding, and a little angry, I dealt several fierce blows to the Iguanodon, and my face split in a triumphant smile as it fell, unconscious, to the beach.

Once the creature had worked up a sufficient appetite, I fed her - for it was a her - a handful of Mejoberries from my outstretched palm.

By twilight she had awoken and was tamed, and as we walked West together, I made up my mind to call her Apricot, after the orange spots that were scattered across her belly and sides.

Since that warm afternoon so long ago, Apricot has been an invaluable friend and mount, full of surprising and incredibly useful abilities. She’s a fierce fighter; I once found the corpse of a wild raptor at her feet and Apricot was completely unscathed.

As I have progressed through my journey on the ARK, I have domesticated stronger and more fearsome creatures, and have not needed to ride Apricot as frequently as I had. As such, I have decided to retire her to a lovely life in a fenced pasture overlooking the sea, and have even found her a mate: a handsome orange and red fellow named Mango.