Librarian

Darryl felt the slow and steady shifting under his seat, the gentle back and forth rocking as his mounted library proceeded forward. He had never considered himself a particularly smart person, so much as he had a good memory. He traveled with an ever growing collection of books, all of which he had read, was in the process of reading, or was going to read. Everything from fiction to autobiographies and textbooks - and from them he had gathered a massive wealth of knowledge. Still, he wouldn't call himself smart - just well informed.

And it was thanks to that wealth of information that he had been able to tame the dinosaur upon whose back he now rode, a home for his library built and mounted onto the back of the massive creature, held in place by a series of levers and pulleys, strategically placed to keep it upright and level upon the dinosaur's back. Darryl had been able to recognize the creature as an Argentinosaurus, making it herbivorous and fairly calm. With some work, a lot of edible plants, and even more patience, he had been able to convince the massive beast to allow him to ride it, and build his library atop it. And that project had taken him even longer than taming the Argentinosaurus. But now that all of that work was out of the way and completed, it had proven well worth the blood, sweat, and tears.

Along with the library, he had constructed a riding and steering platform, from which he could comfortably sit, lead his mount, and most importantly, read. He was always reading. His library contained more books than he could likely read in his lifetime at this point, and yet he continued to add more to his collection. Many of the books he recovered were in poor condition, and he cared for them carefully, reconstructing them to the best of his ability and giving them a home in which they could remain safe.

It had been many centuries since the end of civilization. There was little evidence left of the old world - the world which he read about, where men were kings, and animals were hunted for sport rather than necessity. Sometimes it was difficult to tell how much of his stories were really true. There were some that were clearly labeled as fact, and yet the stories held within them were so fantastical that he could hardly believe them.

After all, he was riding a dinosaur at this very moment. How could they possibly have gone extinct?