>>149
A reasonably thorough inspection of yourself reveals that you are, as best you can tell, the same person you've always been, with the same bodily structure, facial appearance, number and placement of limbs. You are quite relieved at this fact.

>>150
You approach one of the gentlemen, assuming these to be the grunts that the woman mentioned earlier. "Ngrunh," you say, amicably. The man looks at you, wide eyed and slack-jawed, then smiles and grunts enthusiastically in response. You are not quite sure how to respond to this, and settle for letting him get back to picking his nose.

Unfortunately, you cannot locate any apatosauruses - nor, for that matter, any sauropods at all. Even if you could, you suspect that it would be quite an endeavour to kill it, being, as you are, entirely unarmed, and foresee further difficulty in butchering and converting it into edible meat.

>>151
Convenient as it would be, you can't find any processed or tinned meat, nor any savoury pastry products, so improvise by sketching the aforementioned comestibles onto the wall using the available chalk. You are rather proud of the beautifully detailed likenesses, complete with shading and perspective.

You now feel entitled to search the area for tools - not that anyone/thing was particularly stopping you before. You find nothing usable in the plaza, and thus head indoors to where you assume the rest of the camp to be. You find a fairly large, open hexagonal room with various corridors branching off from it. Numerous desks, chairs, filing cabinets and other items of furniture have been gathered into a rough communal living space. There is a campfire in the centre of the room, currently burning low, with more smoke than flame. There are more chalk murals around the space, in a similar style to those you saw earlier. One corridor, leading to the Southeast, has been cordoned off with a dark blue divider, attached to which is a message in unapologetic block capital letters:

DO NOT DISTURB

A few more of the identical people are standing around here as well, though not as many as outside. They all share the same stupefied look, with the exception of one, hunched over in a corner, working feverishly away at a drawing. You cannot see it in detail from where you are, but he seems to be making extensive use of the black and brown chalk.

In your search you find the radio and nail file you had earlier, a lighter with less than a third of its fuel remaining and a pair of scissors.