Tens of millions of years before anyone was watching, a smaller predator left its mark on one of the great hunters of the Cretaceous — and the evidence survived long enough for a graduate student in Alberta to find it. Tooth marks on an Albertosaurus jaw, discovered by a passerby in the Drumheller badlands and analyzed over four years at the University of Alberta, offer the first concrete proof that raptors preyed upon tyrannosaurs. It is a rare moment in paleontology when the fossil record speaks directly to a question long held only in theory, reminding us that the past yields its secrets sl
U of A researchers discover first evidence of raptors preying on tyrannosaurs
Three raking tooth marks on a jaw that rewrote the rules
So a random person found this fossil and just turned it in? How does that even happen?
It does happen more than you'd think. People are out hiking or walking through badlands, they spot something unusual, and they bring it to a museum. This person noticed the jaw looked odd enough to be worth showing someone.
But we should be clear—we don't know much about the finder. The story doesn't tell us who they were or exactly where they found it, just that it came from the Drumheller badlands area.
Fair point. So then it went to the Royal Tyrrell Museum, and they spotted the tooth marks?
Yes. The technicians there examined it and saw those three parallel grooves. That's when it became interesting enough to send to a researcher.
And that researcher was a master's student. Which is fine—graduate students do serious work—but it's worth noting this wasn't a senior paleontologist's first instinct. It went to Doyon because he was interested in the question.
What makes this discovery so rare, exactly?
Finding evidence that one carnivore ate another carnivore is almost never documented in fossils. You find herbivore bones with predator teeth marks. You find predator kills. But predator-on-predator feeding? That's the first time they've found it.
Though we should note—they concluded it was "most likely" a raptor. It's their best interpretation of the evidence, but it's not like they have a video. The tooth marks match raptor teeth, but there's some inference involved.
Four years to figure that out?
Four years of careful analysis. Comparing the marks to known tooth patterns, ruling out other possibilities, building the case. That's how paleontology works.
And it's worth asking: will other paleontologists agree? Currie himself said future studies might reach different conclusions. So this is the first word, not the final word.
What does this tell us about how these dinosaurs actually lived?
It suggests the ecosystem was more complex than we thought. Raptors weren't just hunting small prey. They were capable of taking on or at least scavenging from the largest predators. It changes the food web.
Or it tells us about one specific instance. We have one fossil with bite marks. That's evidence of one event, or possibly a few events. We can't generalize too far from a single specimen.
El Pulso
- Three faint parallel grooves on a fossilized jaw — easy to overlook, impossible to explain away — have upended assumptions about who hunted whom in the late Cretaceous.
- The rarity of carnivore-on-carnivore bite evidence makes this find exceptional; such interactions leave almost no trace in the fossil record, making each confirmed case a scientific event.
- Master's student Joshua Doyon spent four years cross-referencing the wound pattern against known predator teeth, a painstaking process that transformed a curious rock into a peer-reviewed argument.
- The finding reframes raptors not merely as hunters of smaller prey but as predators capable of targeting apex animals far larger than themselves.
- Paleontologist Philip Currie suggests the discovery may pull additional research teams to Alberta's badlands, multiplying the chances of uncovering further evidence of prehistoric predator dynamics.
Tens of millions of years before anyone was watching, a smaller predator left its mark on one of the great hunters of the Cretaceous — and the evidence survived long enough for a graduate student in Alberta to find it. Tooth marks on an Albertosaurus jaw, discovered by a passerby in the Drumheller badlands and analyzed over four years at the University of Alberta, offer the first concrete proof that raptors preyed upon tyrannosaurs. It is a rare moment in paleontology when the fossil record speaks directly to a question long held only in theory, reminding us that the past yields its secrets slowly, and often to those simply paying attention.
In 2022, someone walking through Alberta's Drumheller badlands picked up a fossil and brought it to the Royal Tyrrell Museum. Technicians examining the specimen noticed something unusual: three thin, parallel grooves carved into the lower jaw of an Albertosaurus. They were teeth marks — evidence of a bite.
The fossil passed to Joshua Doyon, a master's student in paleontology at the University of Alberta, who had long wondered how meat-eating dinosaurs actually interacted with one another. Over four years, Doyon and his supervisors compared the wound pattern against the known teeth of predators from the late Cretaceous period. Their conclusion was striking: the marks had been made by a raptor feeding on an Albertosaurus, a much larger tyrannosaur that roamed Alberta between 67 and 73 million years ago.
Such evidence is extraordinarily rare. Supervisor Philip Currie noted that finding the teeth marks of one carnivore on another almost never happens. The discovery matters because it moves a long-held theory — that smaller, agile raptors could prey on apex predators — into the realm of documented fact.
For Doyon, who has loved dinosaurs since childhood, spending years with a single specimen piecing together its story represents the kind of deep engagement that drives the field. Currie suggested the finding could draw additional research teams to Alberta's badlands, each bringing new questions to the region.
What began as a rock noticed by a passerby has become evidence that reshapes the picture of an ancient ecosystem — a reminder that major paleontological discoveries often start not in a laboratory, but with someone in the field paying attention to what others might walk past.
In 2022, someone walking through Alberta's Drumheller badlands picked up a rock that would eventually reshape what paleontologists know about how meat-eating dinosaurs hunted one another. The finder brought the fossil to the Royal Tyrrell Museum, where technicians examined it closely and noticed something unusual: three thin, parallel grooves carved into the lower jaw of an Albertosaurus. These were not random marks. They were teeth marks—evidence of a bite.
The fossil moved into the hands of Joshua Doyon, a master's student in paleontology at the University of Alberta, who saw in those scratches a window into a question that had long intrigued him: how did dinosaurs actually interact with each other? For four years, Doyon and his supervisors studied the specimen, comparing the wound pattern against what they knew about the teeth of various predators from that era. Their conclusion was striking. The marks had been made by a raptor—a smaller, agile carnivore—feeding on an Albertosaurus, a much larger tyrannosaur that had roamed Alberta between 67 and 73 million years ago during the late Cretaceous period.
Finding evidence of one meat-eating dinosaur preying on another is extraordinarily rare in the fossil record. Philip Currie, one of Doyon's supervisors, put it plainly: it is not very often that researchers uncover the teeth marks of a carnivore on another carnivore. The discovery matters because it offers concrete evidence of predatory behavior between species that paleontologists have long theorized about but rarely documented. It shows that the smaller, faster raptors were not just scavengers or hunters of smaller prey—they were capable of taking down or at least feeding on one of the apex predators of their time.
Doyon, who has loved dinosaurs since childhood and never lost that fascination into adulthood, described the experience of analyzing the specimen as fortunate. Spending years with a single fossil, piecing together its story, is the kind of deep engagement that drives paleontological work. The discovery also carries implications for how Alberta's badlands are perceived in the scientific community. Currie suggested that the finding could draw more research teams to the region, each bringing their own questions and methods. Whether future studies confirm the team's conclusions or propose different interpretations, the work will likely generate additional scientific papers and deepen the understanding of how these ancient predators lived and died.
The small marks on a jawbone, noticed by a passerby and preserved in stone for millions of years, have now become a piece of evidence that changes the picture of the Cretaceous ecosystem. It is a reminder that major discoveries in paleontology often begin not in a laboratory but in the field, with someone paying attention to what others might overlook.
Citas Notables
It's not very often you find meat-eating dinosaur teeth on meat-eating dinosaurs— Philip Currie, U of A paleontology supervisor
I'm pretty lucky that I got to spend quite a few years analyzing this specimen— Joshua Doyon, lead researcher and master's student