Deep in the steamy jungle, a bizarre member of the middle-size ceratops family had adapted to life amid the tangled trunks. Where the lowland's burly Ferrucutus bore the build of a heavyweight boxer, the gracile Sylvaceratops have a dancer's physique. Tall and lithe, they were narrow through the body to allow them to slip easily through the dense maze of trunks, their long crests lying flat along their necks as they pressed through thick vegetation.
When threatened, Sylvaceratops would rely on speed and agility to escape. Only during the nesting season would bulls stand their ground, lowering their shield-like faces to the ground to form a wall of bone and horn between them and their vulnerable eggs and would-be predators.
Like Ferrucutus, Sylvaceratops travelled in small familial herds. Males competed for access to females but became territorial only during the breeding season, permitting several adult males to coexist in harmony within the same herd for most of the year.
Adult male's crests became elaborately colored during the breeding season, with the most brilliant attracting a larger harem of females. Small horns also sprouted seasonally and were used in jousting fights between the bulls to assert dominance. The curving horns allowed the competing bulls to grapple, the winner bringing an opponent to the ground in contests that were as much of balance as of brute strength. Horns were shed later, minimizing the chance of snags or entanglements.
Sylvaceratops's subsisted on shrubs and undergrowth, supplementing their diet with seasonal fruit and nuts fallen from the canopy. At certain times of the year the species would demonstrate uncanny intuition, waiting below a particular tree the very day the fruit began to fall.