The Flyers Who Never Stop Flying
Greetings, everyone! This entry is a bit of a change of pace from me and something that I will be doing monthly from now on: a short oneshot story. I am a bit new at writing stories that are not verbose so I greatly appreciate your constructive feedback and thoughts. It is my hope that I will progressive improve at writing this style of story as I gain more experience. Today's ficlet is not related to my existing Seven Hunters story arc, but rather is set in the normal Land Before Time universe. So no Taunt (sorry) d-;
This short ficlet is a response to the Gang of Five prompt challenge for January 2017. This is a monthly challenge where anyone who wishes to join may post a story to the Gang of Five forum and to this site and get it registered on the story masterlist. This month's prompt was to include the following in a story: "As far as he was concerned if his mom wanted to sleep in instead of her usual habit of waking at daybreak then that was fine with him."
The flyer looked out at the vast expanse in front of him. The valley's lush greenery and azure waters gleamed in the morning sun as the residents of the valley rose from their slumbers. Even in the rocky outcroppings high above the valley, the scent of dew upon the vegetation could be smelled as if one were on the ground. It was yet another radiant day in the Great Valley.
But no radiance showed in the young flyer's eyes. The events of the past day had seen to that.
"Momma, wake up! The Bright Circle is up already!"
"Heh... Looks like mom decided to be a sleepy head today."
Petrie reluctantly rose and rubbed his eyes on his membranous wings. As far as he was concerned if his mom wanted to sleep in instead of her usual habit of waking at daybreak then that was fine with him.
"...Mom?"
The last squawk from one of his sister's made him wake up immediately. There was something off about it. Maybe it was the fact it was a question. Maybe it was the pleading that hung in the question. Maybe it was simply instinct. Petrie would never know. But in that moment he rushed to his mother's side.
As he pushed through the huddle of his siblings he could see his mother resting on the floor of the crevice. Her body was in repose, as if still in the midst of slumber, but something was not right. As if compelled by some unseen force he reached out and nudged part of his mother's wing as if to wake her.
Cold.
His mother's wing was cold.
The rest of the day had been a blur. One moment he and his siblings had been screaming in anguish, whereas in the next they were being comforted by other flyers as his mother's body was slowly lifted into the azure sky. Being sent on her final journey into the Mysterious Beyond, being carried aloft by her distant relatives. As he stared at the macabre scene it reminded him of something his mother had said once when he saw the same ritual being performed on another flyer.
"The scent of death attracts sharpteeth so we must take them away."
"But then sharpteeth eat them!"
"Yes, Petrie, but he is not there anymore. Not what made him who he was anyway."
"Petrie not understand. Then where is that?"
"I don't know Petrie. Some say flyers fly higher in the sky when it is their time. So high that they cannot come down. Why do you think that the stars stay up?"
"Me not know... me guess they have to fly to stay up."
His mother simply nodded. “Stars are the flyers who never stop flying."
Comforting words had been said to them since then. Grandma and Grandpa Longneck, Mr. Thicknose, and even Mr. Threehorn had each given their support in their own way. But mere words would not return their mother to them. Some of the other flyers had made sure that a lush assortment of berries was laid at the nest, but none of the orphans dared partake of the free meal. It had only been with the rising of the Bright Circle that his brothers and sisters had finally decided to consume the food in companionable silence.
But Petrie couldn't stand it. Couldn't bear it. He simply had to get away.
He had been on this rocky bluff ever since. None of his siblings tried to stop him, though on occasion one would fly by and say nothing. Petrie could only suspect that they realized what he was thinking. That perhaps here, away from the nest where he had lost everything, he could be free from his troubled thoughts.
Instead those thoughts now appeared to be his only company.
-------
"He just had to fly all the way up the mountain, didn't he? It will take us all night to get down!"
"Shush, Cera!"
Petrie jolted awake at the hushed whispers. It was only a few moments later that his mind registered the identity of the voices… and the fact that it was pitch black. His reaction was immediate.
Oh no! Me got to get back to nest otherwise Momma be mad at Petrie!
Without another thought the little flyer used both wings and his legs to thrust his body into the air. But no sooner than he had felt the cool brush of the air across his beak, the reality of his situation came upon him like a lightning bolt.
Momma…
He landed on the ground with a thud as he bowed his head. At least in his dreamless sleep he had been spared the specters of the present. But now the weight of his burden was again too much to bear. No longer having any tears to shed or words to say he merely fixed his gaze on the ground and awaited his friends to say whatever words they had in mind. He had heard more than his fair share of words in the past day, but none of them mattered. His mother was gone and no words would bring her back.
But much to his surprise only the whisperings of the wind greeted his ears. His friends were silent.
Me guess friends just check on me… Petrie thought about turning around and talking to them. But some part of him still pulled him away. It was an odd emotion that he could not place. The drive to desperately want affection in his time of need, but at the same time desired to push everyone away.
He eventually found himself staring at the stars.
From the ground the canopy of the night sky seemed enormous. It was as if the land which the land-dwellers knew was only a speck of dust in the rustlings of the wind. But the mysterious stars… those humbled flyer and land-dweller alike. It was as he gazed at the multitude of distant suns that words carried on the wind. Words that Petrie recognized from long ago.
Stars are the flyers who never stop flying.
The flyer allowed his eyes to dart across the sky as he watched the various star patterns that Mr. Thicknose had told them about. The lonely spiketail, the lost horn, the fastbiter in the stars… but there were no constellations with flyers. None that the elder dinosaur had told them about anyway.
“I like to think that she is watching from up there.”
Petrie nearly jumped when he heard the longneck’s voice. It was only then that he realized that his friends were no longer behind him. They were sitting just like he was, gazing up at the night sky.
The longneck did not seem to notice that Petrie was no longer looking at the sky as he gestured with his neck at one particular group of stars. “That right there… those stars that look like a long neck. I think my mom is in there somewhere.” His friend’s voice was oddly distant for the usually extroverted longneck and it did not take a brilliant dinosaur to deduce why.
Petrie forced himself to look up at where Littlefoot was gazing. Sure enough Petrie could make out what looked like a slender neck across the horizon. It was as if a longneck were peeking across the end of the world to gaze upon it with curiosity. It was a majestic sight in its own way, though one that an observer would only see if they knew what they were looking for. It was like trying to see something in the clouds, Petrie realized. Very contrived.
And probably not real.
Petrie looked down again as if the sky had offended him. In a manner of speaking it had. He had been the one to insist on the Bright Circle celebration with his friends for the previous two Warm Times. He had been the one convinced that if they didn’t celebrate the Bright Circle then it would get mad and punish the valley. He had been the one willing to see the unseen behind every mystery, whether it be an imaginary friend or a vengeful Bright Circle.
But not today. He had seen death in all of its horror and there had been no mystery there. Only a mother who would never return.
He turned in the opposite direction and prepared to fly away. His friends could ruminate on the nonsense all that they wanted, but right now all Petrie wanted was to be left alone. But, as was often the case, it would be Cera’s words that would throw him into confusion.
“I guess mom and my sisters are up there helping to look for the lost horn.”
Petrie froze, suddenly feeling lost. He had struggled to keep his emotions in check around his friends, but Cera’s participation in this was the last straw.
“What you mean?!” Petrie squawked. “Me thought threehorns not believe in nonsense!”
Littlefoot rose to speak, but Cera quickly silenced him with a glare, but Petrie went on, oblivious to Cera’s anger.
“Me thought Bright Circle like Petrie, but now Momma dead! Maybe it just stupid light!” he kicked a stick off of the ledge with as much force as he could muster, which was then followed by a small rock. “Maybe if Petrie not look at things that not there then Momma still be here. Maybe we find something to help her like Night Flower. But Petrie not see anything! Petrie too busy with silly things! Petrie…”
“Petrie was busy being alive.” Cera retorted in an odd monotone that made Petrie stare at her in shock. The uncharacteristic lack of judgment in her voice almost scared him. “The dead don’t have that chance anymore.” With that final statement she looked back at the constellation in the sky. The lost horn. This made something break in the poor flyer as he looked with resignation at the ground.
Silence reigned for several moments before the threehorn again spoke.
“You don’t believe in them anymore.”
Petrie turned towards Cera. “What?”
“I said that you don’t believe in the stars anymore. You mentioned looking at things that weren’t there.” Cera continued to look at the stars as she shook her head. “Is that what I sound like to you?”
Petrie was a bit taken aback by this. “Um… yes?”
The threehorn snorted. “The stars may just be lights, Petrie, and the Bright Circle may just be a bigger light… but I know that my family is still around.”
The flyer looked desperate. “How?”
Littlefoot answered for his threehorn friend. “Do your mother’s words still talk to you, Petrie?”
"Yes, Petrie, but he is not there anymore. Not what made him who he was anyway."
"Petrie not understand. Then where is that?"
“Yes…” Petrie spoke in a whisper.
“And can you still see her in your thoughts?” Cera questioned.
Petrie merely nodded. The maternal flyer had barely left his mind for a single moment since his siblings had found her lifeless body.
“Then she is still there. Somewhere.” Cera added with a sad smile.
“You may not be able to see her with your eyes, but she is still there.” Littlefoot echoed as if he were remembering something.
Petrie sniffed as he processed what his friends had told him. They had helped him confront one doubt, but this did not change his doubts about the future. A future without the guiding force in his life. The mother he had journeyed across the Mysterious Beyond to reunite with.
But yet something had changed since his friends had encountered the reclusive flyer on the perch. Regardless of him pushing them away, they had persisted in order to help him. Now, he was done pushing them away.
“How… how you all handle it? When…”
“Badly.” Littlefoot answered immediately as he gave the flyer a reassuring nudge. “I was like you back then, Petrie. Keeping to myself, ignoring the world, just waiting…”
The longneck shook his head as he spoke in a faraway voice. “Until someone told me what I need to hear. What I needed in order to carry on… and then I found Ducky and the rest of you came later.”
Petrie nodded. It sounded like someone had comforted Littlefoot in the Mysterious Beyond like how he was being comforted now. He was about to ask his longneck friend about the mysterious benefactor when Cera spoke up.
“I didn’t find out until I got the Great Valley.”
Petrie turned to the threehorn and was amazed at what he saw. Tears.
“It was the only time my father didn’t get on to me for showing weakness.” The threehorn sniffed as she quickly tried to regain her composure. “He said there were exceptions to every rule… herds mourn their own.”
Petrie opened his mouth to speak, but it took several attempts to get anything out. “Cera… are you…”
The threehorn gave the flyer a warning glare. “Yes, and don’t you dare tell a soul!” She quickly dried her eyes on her front legs. “I only let the flathead see this because no respectable threehorn would believe him anyway!”
Littlefoot gave her a smirk despite the moisture in his own eyes as he gave an ironic “Hmph!” in response. He knew quite well what his friend was trying to say even if she could not bring herself to actually say it.
Petrie allowed himself to laugh at the display as the two friends joined him. It was as if the Thundering Falls had been blocked and then suddenly allowed to flow once more as the emotions of the last few days rushed through him. It was only several moments later, when he wiped his eyes with his wing, that he noticed the moisture.
Me guess me still had a few tears left.
“Why you only tell Petrie about this now?” Petrie finally asked. “None of you talk like this around others.”
“Tell me, Petrie, before this happened did you really understand what it was like?” Cera voice was again its usually gruff self.
Petrie didn’t need to think about his answer as he wiped the last of the tears away. He merely shook his head.
“We did this quite often when we first got to the valley. Now we do it each time the Night Circle goes to sleep and cannot hide the stars.” Littlefoot clarified.
This made Petrie look back up at the stars once more. He had doubted earlier in the night, but he was convinced that the appearance of his friends to cheer him up couldn’t have been a coincidence. If the stars were not looking out for him then something far closer to earth sure was.
That was when he saw it.
From the edge of his vision he could see the small ball of light as it suddenly appeared. Within the span of a moment it streaked across the sky before again disappearing into the black void. It was a sight that would have been completely missed had he not been looking at that very moment.
Stars are the flyers who never stop flying.
His two companions appeared to have not noticed the momentary visitor in the sky above as they approached their friend.
“You are invited whenever we do this.” Cera’s voice echoed behind him.
“It’s okay if you don’t believe in the stars, Petrie, the important thing is that you know that you are not alone. You can’t keep this to yourself.” Littlefoot added.
The little flyer nodded as he gazed at where the shooting star had been. “Thank you. Me… me would like to do that. Momma needs company.”
As he embraced Littlefoot’s foot and Cera offered him a nuzzle, he gave the sky one last look.
Goodbye, Momma. Have a good flight.
