Perspectives

rhombus · **on:** April 22, 2017, 03:10:40 AM

Good evening, everyone! In this topic you will find both Fyn and I's offerings for Sovereign's (Keijo6) special prompt from winning last month's Gang of Five prompt challenge. As a special bonus, both Fyn (Nimbus) and I have made interconnected tales for this challenge, with my story being posted first from Littlefoot's perspective, and Fyn's story from Cera's perspective being posted second. The prompt we are responding to is:

"Do a story about one of the members of the Gang living their lives before the Great Earthshake. It can be a lesson, a normal day or a little adventure but the story should be from a perspective of one of the Five dealing with the challenges of the Great Migration."

rhombus · **Reply #1 on:** April 22, 2017, 03:11:19 AM

Perspectives - Littlefoot

“Threehorns never play with longnecks!”

Despite his befuddlement at the sudden aggression from his new friend and her intimidating father, he did not resist as his mother begin to lift him by the tail. Within moments he saw the ground fall below him as the larger sauropod took him skyward, out of harm’s way. From his vantage point, dangling from her mouth, he did not see the knowing glance between the two parents, or the threehorns begin to walk away in parting, but as soon as he was placed on his mother’s back he made his thoughts known.

“Mother, what’s a long-neck?”

It was not the most obvious starting point, and it really wasn’t his major concern, but for some reason the mentioning of a “longneck” caught his attention. Maybe if the threehorn couldn’t play with him then this mysterious “longneck” would be welcome to play?

“Why, that’s what we are, dear.”

“Oh.”

In his five short years of life he had mainly kept to his herd, just him, his mother, and his grandparents. He had never considered that all of these odd dinosaurs they told him about or seen from afar might have given his kind a name. Though, the more he thought about it, the name did make sense. They did have rather long necks, compared to the short-necks. His thoughts trailed off after a few seconds before another question entered his mind. A question which more closely reflected his angst.

“Well, why can’t I play with that threehorn?” He laughed as he recalled the Threehorn's antics, “We were having fun!”

“We all keep to our own kind-- The three-horns, the spiketails, the swimmers, the fliers. We never do anything together.”

Despite his youth, Littlefoot knew a deflection when he heard one. His mother had given him a “what” answer, but she did not answer the “why”. Maybe she didn’t hear him?

ëWhy?”

“Well, because we're different,” came her unsatisfactory answer, “It's always been that way.”

She did not mishear, that much was obvious; clearly she simply didn't want to answer. This would not dissuade the little longneck, however.

“Well, why?”

She laughed, “Oh, don't worry so much. When we reach the Great Valley, there will be many, many longnecks for you to play with.”

Littlefoot sighed. Regardless of why the different herds were separate, it would be nice to play with others of his kind. Longnecks, he reminded himself in his mind, that is what the others call us.

“I wish we were there now.”

His mother’s voice almost seemed far-away as she answered, “It's a long way--Past the rock that looks like a long-neck, the mountains that burn. Still a long way, but we'll get there.”

Littlefoot could only hope that she was right.

-----------

The little longneck twitched as the unwelcome light of the Bright Circle appeared through the clouds, making his previously cool resting spot rapidly rise in temperature. This was not what made him open his eyes, however.

“Mother…”

Littlefoot’s eyes opened groggily as he noticed the lack of warm flash underneath his body. In its place was the familiar sting of the scorched ground. It was only when he heard his mother’s thunderous snore to his side that he relaxed.

“Looks like someone just woke up from a nap.”

Littlefoot turned towards the familiar kind voice of his grandfather. His words had come across as a whisper, but had echoed like a distant thunderstorm. The little longneck prepared to speak when the sudden snore of his mother again alerted him to the fact that she was slumbering. As a result he slowly walked to his grandfather as his mother and grandmother slept peacefully.

“Grandpa? Are we staying here?” Littlefoot looked around, “And where is here?”

This earned a hearty chuckle from the elder longneck as he looked out in the distance with his massive neck.

“We might stay here for the night, Littlefoot, but we are not staying here. As for where this is… well it is still the Mysterious Beyond, but at least there is a stream here.”

“A stream?!” Littlefoot exclaimed until his grandmother’s snore again alerted him to the fact that his elders were sleeping. His next words were quieter, “I am thirsty…”

As the little longneck felt the inside of his dry mouth with his tongue he could remember just how long ago it has been since he had a proper drink.

The elderly longneck nodded as he looked towards the stream, “We figured as much, little one. Perhaps you could get a drink and go play while your mother sleeps... just don’t go too far. My neck has limits, you know?” Grandpa Longneck chuckled at his own joke.

This sounded like a perfectly sensible idea to the young longneck, “Great! Maybe I can find a new friend again, like that threehorn!”

As Littlefoot prepared to bound off he did not notice as his grandfather’s expression became one of concern. Taking one more look to make sure that his mate was soundly asleep, he spoke to his grandson once more.

“Littlefoot?”

The little longneck stopped. He knew that voice… that was the voice that usually came before him being corrected about something. But what could he have done wrong here? Reluctantly he turned around.

“Yes, Grandpa?”

The elder sighed. To explain to a child how things should be, and to explain how they actually are, were two totally different things.

“Let me tell you a story.”

Parched mouth or not, Littlefoot needed no further prompting once the subject of a story was brought up. The stories that his grandparents often told about life when they were his age were always engrossing. To hear about lands lush with green, and many longnecks everywhere… it was like something out of a good sleep story. As it was the little longneck had never seen another child of his kind ever since he had been hatched.

In fact, Cera had been one of the few children of another kind he had ever seen.

Seeing that he had the little sauropod’s attention, Grandpa Longneck began his tale, “It all began back before the Mountains darkened the sky, before the streams dried and the herds thinned, before the time of changes, and before I met my Time of Great Growing; back when I was around your age, still a small youngling…”

Littlefoot listened, mesmerized. It was still hard for him to believe that his mother and his grandparents could have been anything else but the wise, massive sauropods that he saw today. But if they said that they had been his age once then that must have been true…

“Back in those days I was part of a small herd, though by no means as small as ours,” he laughed but it was a subdued laugh, “and we resided in a small valley in the shadows of the Four Mountains. It was there that I and my siblings were hatched. Though my poor mother sometimes had difficulty watching us all. As we have found with you, sometimes watching one child can be a lot to handle…”

His grandfather nuzzled him, as Littlefoot laughed.

“…but to watch twelve little ones was a monumental task for even the best of mothers. And your Great-Grandmother was certainly among the best. Because of her seven of us made it to our Time of Great Growing, four of us sadly falling to the coughing sickness.”

Littlefoot looked down at this. He remembered vaguely his experience with the coughing sickness, and how he had felt so warm even though it was in the middle of a Cold Time. The days stretched on like an endless sleep story… until suddenly he began to recover. Though concept of death was still foreign to his personal experience, Littlefoot had begun to realize how close he had come. It seemed that his grandfather’s siblings were not so lucky.

“But it is the one that did not fall to the sickness that I want to tell you about today, little one. Because what happened to him is something that I want you to make sure that you avoid.”

Littlefoot was now quite curious, “What happened?”

His grandfather raised his neck further, as if he were looking at something in the distance. As if he were looking for a lost friend that was just out of sight.

“Gatus was like me in many ways at that age. A playful boy, but also quite a source of trouble when it came to being back at the nest in time for sleep. He would often lead us on adventures in those young days… from trying to find tinysauruses that supposedly existed in the mountains, to trying to find sweet bubbles by the streams. Many of my earliest memories involve him in some way. But, sadly, he never learned the lesson that the rest of us learned before it was too late. That was because he was the one who forced us to learn that hard lesson.”

“It all began one fine morning, before the Bright Circle had even risen. I felt Gatus nudge my side…”

“Hmmm… What is it Gatus, the Bright Circle is still asleep and I think it has a good idea.”

The playful brown longneck rolled his eyes, “Oh don’t be lazy-neck, Baku! I saw it again.”

By this time Baku was quite ready to return to his slumber, even faking a snore in the hopes that Gatus would take the hint. As soon as he felt a small tail cover his nostrils playfully, he gave up his attempt. As soon as Gatus put his mind up to something there was little that could dissuade him.

“Saw what?” Baku groaned as he forced himself off, shaking the morning dew off of his extremities.

“The all-necks!” Gatus beamed, “Which means that someone owes me their share of the sweet bubbles today…”

Baku glared at his brother, “And you think I am going to take your word for it? Show me these supposed all-necks, Gatus.”

The elderly longneck shook his head, “But much to my amazement the all-necks, as we children called them then, were right where Gatus had indicated. Several small belly-sliders, as they are actually called, slithered on the bare rocks in the shadows of the Four Mountains. I was quite prepared to concede my sweet bubbles, but Gatus just couldn’t let it stop there. This was something new… something exciting… he just had to find out more…”

“I don’t think that they can talk.”

As if in response to Gatus’s observation, the larger of the belly sliders began to raise its head skyward, its imposing body now becoming visible. Even Gatus could not mistake this for something other than a threat display.

He reared back just in time to avoid any further escalation as the belly slider hissed at him.

“Well good job, Gatus. I don’t know what it just said, but I don’t think it is happy with you.”

Gatus smirked at his brother, “Oh you are just bitter because you lost our bet! But I wonder why Momma never really told us about these.”

Baku shrugged with his neck, “Maybe she has never seen them before?”

Gatus rolled his eyes as he looked back at his brother, momentarily taking his eyes off of the snakes, “Oh come on, Mom has seen everything! I am sure that…”

What happened next would forever be etched into Grandpa Longneck’s mind even though it only took a few seconds. Unknown to the small sauropods, the belly sliders they could see where only the juveniles of a much larger snake. In the end Gatus never saw the large snake in the trees until it was too late. In one swift motion it fell from the tree and wrapped itself around the small sauropod, preventing him from even letting out more than a panicked squeak. Within moments his brother’s eyes bulged as he was slowly suffocated by the massive predator. The frightened stare of his brother as his life left him was something that would forever remain in the small sauropod’s mind.

The time of adventures had come to an end.

Grandpa Longneck shivered. He had avoided giving his small grandson any of the gruesome details in his retelling, but that did not stop the memories from playing in his mind.

“Later, once we had mourned brave Gatus, our mother explained to us what those were. They were belly sliders, and though they often looked harmless and were quite small, some could act like sharpteeth when it came to younglings. This was where Gatus’s bravery and curiosity had led, and we all learned a hard lesson that day: A longneck does not need to be afraid of everything, but he does need to be cautious; never greet a new situation until you learn more about it.”

To say that Littlefoot was shocked into silence would be an understatement. He had only seen a belly slider once, and had wondered why his grandparents had quickly stomped on it before it could get closer to him. Now he knew the answer. Sometimes danger came from even the least likely places.

“This is why we want you to be careful about playing with other kinds, Littlefoot. You are still young and learning, but sometimes life does not give us time to learn all of the lessons that we need. This is why we have parents and grandparents who can help us learn these things. Do you understand?”

Littlefoot nodded. “But… the threehorn did not seem like a belly slider. She had more than just a neck. Her dad was scary though.”

Grandpa Longneck could only chuckle at his grandson’s innocence. He still had much to learn about the ways of the world and his experienced would harden his mind, but he knew that his grandson’s heart was pure.

“Well, just remember to let us know if you see any others, okay? It is better to watch from afar than to put yourself in potential danger,” Grandpa Longneck asked before his grandson nodded in agreement, “But I think a certain little longneck might want to get a drink of water and play before his mother wakes up… we have a long journey ahead of us.”

Littlefoot needed no further prompting as he bounded off towards the steam. It was as if the horrors of the story had not even reached his awareness. For some reason this made the elder smile.

He had no idea how wrong he was.

-----------

"A longneck does not need to be afraid of everything, but he does need to be cautious; never greet a new situation until you learn more about it."

His grandfather’s voice echoed in the longneck’s head as he sniffed around the dried bushes, looking for anything to do. He would have loved to play with that threehorn, but his elder’s wise words did more than even his mother’s to instill a sense of caution. But, as was common with the mind of a young child, mischief soon made itself known in the form of a question.

I can’t play with her, but maybe I can watch her? After all, Grandpa said that I should learn more about stuff before I see stuff.

The longneck’s face turned from one of speculation to one of determination. Yes… that was exactly what he was going to do.

Placing his head towards the ground in the best attempt at hiding his body that he could muster, he proceeded into the bushes, seeing if he could find the mysterious threehorn once more.

As he scurried through the bushes, or rather, what was left of their desiccated husks, he allowed his thoughts to turn to the threehorn once more. She certainly acted tough, but Littlefoot could sense that she was a kid like him. How threatening could she be?

But that was when a terrifying thought came to him: the snake in his Grandpa’s story appeared friendly as well. But that did not save his childhood friend…

Littlefoot did not realize that he had hunkered down even further until his neck nearly collided with a small rock. It was only then that he decided to stick his head out of the bushes in order to see if he could find a sign of the elusive threehorn. What greeted his eyes instead was something no less interesting.

Water!

He rose from his hiding spot and proceeded to run towards the small stream, before suddenly skidding to a halt, remembering his self-imposed mission. He could not find the threehorn if she found him first… and what could happen to him if that happened?

Against his will he forced himself back into the bushes, deciding to follow the stream. Perhaps the threehorn would have the same idea as him and drink without looking first? If so then he could do his watching, just like his Grandpa had said.

Littlefoot did not let the fact that his Grandfather had said nothing specifically about spying on threehorns dissuade him from his reasoning. How else was he supposed to learn about threehorns except by watching them?

He kept his body flush with the dessicated bushes until he heard something in the distance. Something that sounded like an agitated sigh.

He hunkered down. He had found her.

He peered over the dried remains of a bush as he took a good look at the yellow threehorn. This was not the prideful spitfire that he had seen on display earlier on this day, but rather a brooding collection of horns and angst. How could something change so profoundly.

Just like the snake...

“It’s not fair!”

Littlefoot fought against every instinct as the threehorn called out in rage and kicked a pebble into the water, causing a minor splash before sinking out of sight. This was true anger. Littlefoot had never really seen this before, and as such it both excited and terrified him. Moving his neck to catch a better view, he finally decided to step out into the tall grass, using their mighty stalks as his hiding place. It was right then that the threehorn turned around.

Littlefoot’s heart skipped a beat. Had she seen him?

He didn’t have to wait long for his answer as the threehorn reared back and began to paw at the ground, trying her best to look intimidating.

“Show yourself!”

Littlefoot hesitated, for a moment unsure of what to do. Should he run? Should he obey the threehorn’s command? It was only with reluctance that he stepped through the grass, his face an impassive mask.

“You…” the threehorn whispered, grating her teeth together. In that moment Littlefoot wondered if he had made the wrong decision. What if this threehorn was like the snake, appearing to be friendly one moment and then vicious the next?

“I thought I told you- Threehorns never play with Longnecks! Go back to your own kind before I… before I….” Cera sighed, pawing weakly at the ground. “Just go away.”

Now this was not like the snake in Grandpa’s story. Behind this anger was something else… something the small longneck couldn’t quite place. As a result he stayed where he was, looking at her with concern.

“Are you alright?”

“No!” Cera barked, “and I won’t be alright until you’re long gone! My daddy warned me about you. I know what you are. I know what you can do.” She lowered her head, presenting her single horn to Littlefoot in an aggressive display. “But if you think you can hurt me, I’d like to see you try.”

Littlefoot looked at the threehorn with a befuddled expression, for a moment not thinking that he had heard her correctly. This only lasted a few seconds, however, before the reality of the words set in and he reacted the only way that he could.

He laughed.

As he laughed at the absurdity of the threehorn’s paranoia, he did not notice the hint of fear on her features. The uncertainty about how to proceed… about his intentions.

“I know what you’re doing!” Cera yelled, her voice noticeably shaking, “and it’s not working! I won’t fall for your tricks.”

It was the shaking voice that alerted Littlefoot that something was off. There was real fear here. Though, the longneck deduced, the threehorn probably would never admit it.

“How could I hurt you? You’re the one with a horn sticking out of your face,” Littlefoot struggled to bring his giggles under control, “I just have this long neck.”

As if to demonstrate he tilted his head at an odd angle, as if he were looking at her while facing the other direction, and then stuck out his tongue in a poor replication of her antics earlier when he had been carried away by his mother. Though any onlooker would agree that Littlefoot couldn’t scare a stingless buzzer.

“Well you’re right about that. I am the one with the horn. Maybe you should be scared of me,” she puffed, “my daddy told me my horn is the sharpest out of all the kids in my herd, you know.” As she said this, she tried moving her head around to follow the Longneck’s strange contortions to absolutely no avail.

Littlefoot actually felt relieved to see some of the prideful arrogance back in the threehorn. It was so different than the melancholy that was there before. But then again the words of his Grandpa echoed in his mind: beware of things that do not appear to be what they are. The threehorn had acted all scared, and now was acting confident and poised. Could it have been an act? Just like the snake?

He maintained his distance, merely giving her a smile. Cera returned the gesture with something that could only be described as a half-grimace.

“Now tell me why you’re following me. Don’t make me show you just how sharp my horn is.” There was less anger in her voice now, but the threat was still clear.

Littlefoot forced himself to stand tall, but he could not hide a slight tremble in his neck, “I-I was just watching. My Grandpa said I should look at things before meeting them.”

“Watching me, huh? Yeah, right. My daddy said that I shouldn’t trust anyone. Not even a little longneck like you.” The threehorn’s eyes went wide for a moment, as if she had come to some realization, “and you shouldn’t have snuck up on me like that. It’s not nice.”

Littlefoot considered this for a few moments. The threehorn did have a point. What would he have done if he thought something was staring at him in the bushes?

“Well… um…” he began, trying to think of how to explain himself. He eventually decided to walk on over to the stream, “Well… I was just going to get a drink before I saw you along.”

He took a deep drink from the stream as if to punctuate his point.

The threehorn did not respond immediately, keeping her distance from the longneck. When she finally did speak her voice sounded more resigned than accusatory.

“Fine. So get your drink and move along. We’re not supposed to be talking to each other, remember?”

Upon again hearing the threehorn’s bossy demeanor, he couldn’t help but feel challenged in some way. As if the threehorn and him were playing a game where getting the last word in would be a loss.

Littlefoot couldn’t help himself. Upon hearing the arrogant response of the threehorn, he raised his tail into the air and hit a pebble with all of his might, sending it skipping twice before it sank into the water.

His only reply to her words was to give her a cheeky smile. That is how you skip a stone, threehorn!

Littlefoot resisted the urge to laugh as the threehorn looked at him in shock, “How did you do that?”

Littlefoot shrugged, a playful glint in his eyes, “I thought we weren’t supposed to talk to one another, remember?”

Cera turned up her nose with a resounding “hmph.”

“I’m not talking to you. I’m…” she paused, as if looking for the right words, “I’m talking beside you… to... the stream. You know. Just wondering aloud.”

Littlefoot laughed at the threehorn’s obvious attempt to go around her father’s rules. It was so transparent as if to invite mockery. In response he pretended to talk to his own reflection in the stream.

“What do you think, Reflection? Should we tell her how we beat her at skipping the rock?”

He could not see the threehorn’s reaction, but he did hear her response.

“What kind of a dummy talks to his own reflection! Just tell me how you skipped the rock!”

The threehorn stopped, quickly shutting her mouth as both dinosaurs made eye contact. Littlefoot could only smile as he had won this round. Taking his time, he walked over to a nearby rock, being careful to maintain his distance as per his self-imposed rule. Then raising his tail again, he spoke.

“You have to hit it with the tip,” he then whipped his tail as he had done before, sending the stone skipping clear across to the other end of the stream. Upon seeing his feat, he gave Cera an encouraging smile.

Your turn.

Littlefoot could only watch with amusement as the threehorn tried to find a suitable rock while at the same time not taking her eyes off of the longneck. It was as if she were searching for food but had to also keep an eye on some sharptooth in the distance. It would not be for many seasons that he would truly understand why that felt so very wrong. Eventually, however she found a somewhat smooth rock, a bit jagged on one end. As she moved it into position she raised her tail and, only for a moment, kept her attention on the rock as she struck it.

And then her eyes snapped back to him.

Littlefoot was not looking at the threehorn at the moment, however, as he watched the stone skip on the water before falling into its murky depths.

“Nice!” Littlefoot praised as he sized up another pebble. This was a lot more fun with someone else to compete with. Though as soon as he heard her response…

“Hey, that’s pretty neat! I bet that’s farther than anyone else has ever skipped a rock.”

…he did have to avoid rolling his eyes. After all, he had a better response than words for that. Slapping his tail against a particularly smooth stone, he sent it sailing across the water, going in front of the threehorn as it did so. Now it was Littlefoot’s turn to taunt her.

“Whatever,” the threehorn scoffed, “you’re just lucky.” She set up her first stone from her small pile and smacked it. The rock wobbled before sinking, having not skipped even once.

Luckily for her, however, the longneck was no longer watching her attempt as he attempted to up the ante and strike an even larger stone into the stream. Such a heavier weight would require more force, and as such he raised his tail and prepared himself to strike the stone with all of his might. With a final deep breath he prepared himself for the impact…

Only to feel himself collapse onto the ground, his hindquarters stinging fiercely. The longneck had missed his target and fallen over. He had taunted the threehorn and now gravity had taunted him.

The laughter of the threehorn was contagious, despite also being infuriating. The entire situation was so absurd that Littlefoot couldn’t help but to laugh, not matter whatever damage his sense of pride might have taken. Within moments both dinosaurs were on the ground, laughing hysterically at the spectacle.

It was a few moments later that the threehorn returned to her pile of stones and began to speak again.

“You know, you’re not what my daddy said you’d be like.”

Littlefoot ignored the stinging sensation in his flank as he sized up another pebble, seeking to redeem himself. “What did your dad say I was like?”

“He said Longnecks were stuck-up, untrustworthy know-it-alls. But you don’t seem like that. Not right now, anyway.”

Littlefoot nodded at her words as he hit another pebble, sending it skipping twice. Based upon her reactions thus far it did not surprise him that she had some odd views on longnecks. “And you don’t seem like the belly slider in my Grandpa’s story.”

“Belly Slider?” The threehorn looked insulted by this insinuation. “Of course I’m not like a belly slider. What a dumb thing to say.”

Littlefoot felt compelled to explain, “Well… his friends tried to play with it and… um… he got eaten.”

“Oh,” the threehorn seemed stunned for a moment, “So you thought… you thought I was someone that looked nice, but wasn’t nice inside. I think I get it. My daddy… My daddy actually said something like that to me, too.”

Littlefoot stopped looking for more stones as he focused all of his attention on the threehorn. She was acting strange, like she had when he had first began to watch her… but now he knew why she was acting this way.

That was why he didn’t mind that she was only a few body-lengths away. As she realized it, Cera tensed.

But would he be okay with her being any closer? His mother had told him that each kind kept to themselves. And mother had never been wrong before…

Without thinking about it Littlefoot expanded the distance between himself and the threehorn ever so slightly. Seeing this, the Threehorn relaxed again.

That was when a familiar booming voice made itself known.

“Cera? Cera! It’s time to come back.”

The threehorn seemed torn for a moment, as if pulled between her duties and her wants. Littlefoot could see that it looked similar to the distress she was under when he first saw her, but now it had a different context. When she finally did speak her voice sounded resigned.

“I should go,” she said quietly, “that’s my daddy calling.”

Littlefoot felt a pang of disappointment at this, but also a sense of resolution. If what his mother and grandfather had said was true, then perhaps this was for the best? He forced a smile on his face as she gave her a nod, reminiscent of the respectful nod his mother and the threehorn had shared earlier in the day.

“So the name’s Cera?”

The threehorn nodded affirmatively.

“Yeah. How about you?”

“Littlefoot,” he answered simply, keeping his gaze upon her.

“Littlefoot…” her voice trailed off as she nodded. “That’s a nice name. I-”

“Cera!”

Littlefoot watched as the threehorn, Cera, looked out in the direction where her father’s voice had echoed. In an instant her somewhat passive demeanor changed into the assertive threehorn that he had seen before. The time for them to merely be children had again passed; now it was time to again be of different herds, different paths.

“It was nice to meet you, Littlefoot, and I hope you and your herd finds what they’re looking for,” the threehorn paused for a moment, a second of uncertainty passing through her features, “but I think we should stay with our own kind. It’s what our parents would want.”

Littlefoot frowned at this but nodded nonetheless, trying to ignore the feeling of utter wrongness washing over him, “I hope that you find what you are looking for too. Goodbye, Cera.”

The longneck watched the threehorn disappear from view for several moments as her presence left his sight and hearing. In the end he was left alone with the grass and stones all around him, an endless area of play for one. The only child of his herd. As he prepared to turn back towards his herd once more, he shivered at the previously unknown feeling of loss.

He hoped that was a feeling that he would never have to feel again.

Fyn16 · **Reply #2 on:** April 22, 2017, 03:21:40 AM

Perspectives: Cera

“Come, Cera. Threehorns never play with Longnecks.”

Cera stood by her father’s enormous foot, unsure of what to do. When the great Threehorn arrived, she’d only thought he was joining in, the same way he did when she played within the confines of the herd, But this was different. He was glaring, snarling at the young Longneck who had surprised her, the one who had dared to laugh at her admitted embarrassment at the tail end of a squirting buzzer. In other words, it seemed “play” was the farthest thing from his mind. Was this strange creature an enemy of some kind? Cera was deeply confused. Behind the safety of her father’s foot, she stuck her tongue out at the Longneck, payback for his mocking laughter. As if to back her up, her father growled menacingly at him, forcing the Longneck back until he was well clear of her.

It was clear now to Cera where her father stood on the Longneck’s presence. He was something weaker, something to be intimidated. And even as her long-necked adversary’s mother approached, a towering creature that would probably have frightened her had she been alone, she decided to prove herself to him, to prove once again that she could be just as strong as her father.

“Threehorns never play with Longnecks!” she echoed, just before a familiar pressure clamped down on her tail, dragging her back and up into the air. She looked up just in time to see the mother Longneck and her own father meet each other’s eyes before giving one another a curt nod and parting ways.

She didn’t understand it. If her father didn’t want the Longneck around, but didn’t want her going anywhere near him, then what was she to do? She wasn’t about to let some stranger laugh at her and get away with it, and she doubted her father would have wanted that either. He’d always told her to stick up for herself, and this? This was hardly that. This was running away.

“Daddy, where are we going? Why’d you take me away from the Longneck?”

The larger Threehorn set his daughter down, and when she looked up at him, she saw disappointment in his eyes.

“You ran away from our lesson, Cera. I won’t have you hanging around with stuck-up, untrustworthy Longnecks while there are still things I have left to teach you. The Mysterious Beyond is not a forgiving place, and I-”

“But he laughed at me!” she protested, “and you just pulled me away!”

“Don’t interrupt me!” her father barked, and Cera settled down. She knew that voice, and it was a voice best obeyed. Disobedience could cost her a meal, or ground her to the herd for the next few days, both of which were less than appealing options.

“Cera, I don’t want you anywhere near that Longneck or his kind,” he continued, looking down the hill. At the bottom, the rest of his herd had gathered, some enjoying the afternoon light, others going about their business, eating whatever food they could find and drinking from the nearby stream.

“Why not? He wasn’t stuck-up or anything. I just didn’t want him to laugh at me, that’s all! I thought you wanted me to stick up for myself!”

“I do, but… but this is different.”

“Why is it different? I was just trying to be like you!”

“I don’t want you to be like me, Cera. Not right now, anyway. Right now, I want you to listen so that one day you have the chance to grow up and be like me.”

“I wasn’t going to hurt him or anything,” she protested.

“I’m not worried about whether or not some Longneck child gets hurt. It’s you I’m looking out for.”

At this, Cera tilted her head in confusion. There was nothing remotely dangerous about the Longneck. It wasn’t as if he was a Sharptooth, and when they’d met, she hadn’t seen anything dangerous about him. Just a curious kid about her age with a goofy smile and an annoying laugh.

“I don’t need protection. There’s nothing dangerous about Leaf Eaters. It’s just Sharpteeth I should be scared of.”

Her father sighed, his shoulders sagging in the way they did when she wasn’t listening to him. He looked down the hill, past the stream, as if trying to find something. When his eyes locked onto it, he nodded.

“Come with me, Cera. There’s something I want to show you.”
…

Cera and her father walked down the hill, past the stream and a short distance away from the herd. The area he led her to wasn’t anything special; it looked like everywhere else nearby- dry with a few scattered bushes here and there for grazing. The whole place was a bit of a shallow canyon or depression, the sort of place water might have gathered in wetter times.

Her father led her on in silence to a dry riverbank where he stopped. Cera couldn’t see what was on the other side of him; he seemed to be deliberately blocking her line of sight with his body. But there was a strange smell in the air- a sort of musty, dead-leaf smell that caused her to wrinkle her nose in disgust. She wasn’t sure what was in this place that was so important for her to see, but she suddenly felt uneasy. Whatever it was, it wasn’t anything good.

Her father seemed to hesitate for a moment, his head turning as he looked at something only he could see. Then, closing his eyes, he took a few steps back, revealing what his body had blocked from her sight. Cera had to hold back a scream. Bones, bleached white by the Bright Circle, littered the ground, making up an entire Threehorn skeleton lying on its side near the riverbed. She’d never seen a skeleton up close before, and the rush of sheer terror she felt almost sent her scrambling back to the herd for safety. But her father’s strong foot held firm behind her, keeping her from retreating.

“Look.”

Against every instinct urging her not to, Cera looked, staring into the hollow sockets where once eyes sat, eyeing the teeth curved in a perpetual, horrifying grin. She imagined the whole thing standing up, approaching her as she stood locked in place, its white teeth chattering as breeze twisted and wormed its way through hollow cheekbones and cavernous ribs. She fell onto her belly, trembling as she shut her eyes, covering them with her feet.

“Cera, open your eyes” her father said. He didn’t sound angry, but his tone carried a measure of force within it. “Be brave. Stand up and walk with me.”

Shivering, she slowly removed her front feet from her eyes, lifting herself onto wobbly, unsteady legs as she tried to avoid those terrible, empty sockets. Her father was already making his way over to the skeleton. He stood between herself and it, and that seemed to bring a small amount of comfort to her. Swallowing back her fears, she followed him. He stood by the carcass, examining the unfortunate Threehorn’s ribs, eyeing them carefully.

“What do you think did this?” he asked, not taking his eyes off the bones.

“Sh- Sharptooth,” she whispered, quaking as she gave him the only answer that seemed logical. Sharpteeth were killers, enemies of the herd and of all Leaf Eaters. But to her surprise, her father shook his head.

“No. Look closer at these bones. See how they’re cracked? And there are no tooth marks at all. This wasn’t done by a Sharptooth; it was done by another Leaf Eater. Probably a Threehorn.”

In that instant, Cera felt as if someone had struck her. She actually stumbled, losing her balance for a moment as she tried to comprehend her father’s words.

“But… but… Leaf Eaters aren’t supposed to kill each other. That doesn’t make any sense.”

“No, it doesn’t. But it still happens. Sharpteeth aren’t the only threat we face. Sometimes the greatest dangers are the ones we don’t expect; the ones that hide behind a friendly face.” He nudged the skeleton to prove his point, and the rattle it produced made Cera shiver.

“That’s why I can’t let you play with the Longneck. He may be a Leaf Eater, he may even be just like you, but he is not harmless, and the rest of his kind is certainly not harmless. The truth is- It’s not just Longnecks, Cera. You can’t trust anyone. Not until you’ve earned their respect, at least. Not until you know you can trust them with your life. Forget that even once, and you could end up like this poor fellow here. The world we live in does not care about you. No one you meet has your best interests in mind. Live for yourself, and no one else. Forget the Longneck, and one day you’ll be glad you did.”

Devastated, Cera fell back down, shaking uncontrollably. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she covered her eyes again. Her father only grunted a response.

“So you see, now, that some things do scare me.”

Cera continued to weep quietly, shuddering as she lay on the ground. Had she seen her father at that moment, she might have noticed the pity in his eyes, a fleeting image that passed as quickly as it appeared.

“Get up,” he said.

Obediently, Cera did as she was told. She was a mess, the tears mingling with the buzzer juice on her face from earlier.

“Chin up, Cera. You’re stronger than this. I know this is hard, but you’re a Threehorn. The world expects you to push through this, and so do I.” He looked down at the bones again, this time bearing an angry scowl.

“Day is fading. We should go now. Go wash yourself in the stream before you return.”

“Yes, Daddy,” Cera sniffed, getting to her feet and plodding off toward the sound of the trickling stream.

“And Cera-”

She turned around, fixing him with her baleful, gleaming green eyes.

“Don’t go anywhere near the Longnecks.”

But those words weren’t necessary anymore. Right now, she had no intention of going anywhere near anything without three horns on its head. And even that was a stretch.

…

For the first time that day, Cera was alone, with nothing but her own thoughts to keep her company. She hated it. Every time she closed her eyes, listening to the soft trickle of the stream as it flowed uncaringly on, she saw the hollow, dark eye sockets, imagined the clacking teeth and that terrifying, frozen grin.

It’s not just Longnecks, Cera. You can’t trust anyone. Not until you’ve earned their respect, at least. Not you know you can trust them with your life. Forget that even once, and you could end up like this poor fellow here. The world we live in does not care about you. No one you meet has your best interests in mind. Live for yourself, and no one else. Forget the Longneck, and one day you’ll be glad you did.

She wished she could. Right now, she wished she had never met the Longneck in the first place. He’d seemed so friendly, so inquisitive (in a goofy sort of way), but how much of that could she believe anymore? What if he was just waiting for the chance to finish her off, just like the dead Threehorn? Cera shivered in spite of the warm afternoon air. These weren’t the sort of things one should think about before bedtime.

A leaf floated downstream, shriveled and dead just like most of the others, and she was reminded of why the grown-ups were making this migration in the first place. At the end of their trail lay the Great Valley. Up until today the prospect of a green paradise filled with all sorts of strange and wonderful dinosaurs had seemed too good to be true. Now it only filled her with dread. So many unfamiliar faces, just like the Longneck. Who could say which ones were sincere and which were not? She sighed, watching the leaf trail away until it disappeared, either beneath the surface of the water or behind some unseen bend. These were grown-up problems, not hers.

“It’s not fair!” she growled, kicking a pebble into the water. The projectile made an insignificant splash, creating barely a ripple before it, too, sunk out of sight. She turned away from the stream; even rock-kicking wasn’t enough to alleviate her fears.

And then she saw it- something unnatural, standing perfectly still among the gently blowing blades of tall grass. She didn’t know exactly what it was, but it definitely wasn’t something natural. Something glinted among the dull colors of the grass. Eyes? Someone was watching her; had to be. A chill ran down her spine, and she began to paw at the ground, snorting.

“Show yourself!” she called out, her gruff Threehorn voice unable to mask the wavering fear in her tone.

Cera recognized the Longneck as soon as he left his hiding place in the grass. She’d remember his pale, reddish-brown colors, his dark eyes, and that quirky smile anywhere. But where once she’d seen only a potential friend, or at least a friendly rival, now she felt doubt.

He’s here to kill me.

The thought, a little, irrational nugget of “what if” was the first thing to cross her mind. She didn’t want to so much as consider it- after all, this Longneck wasn’t any older than she was- but after what her father had said, she wasn’t so sure she could dismiss the possibility. He was a potential threat now; everyone was.

“You,” Cera whispered, grating her teeth together as she tensed, readying herself to fight or flee, “I thought I told you- Threehorns never play with Longnecks! Go back to your own kind before I… before I….” she sighed, pawing weakly at the ground. She wasn’t her father. Not yet, anyway, and the things he showed her had left her tired more than anything else. She didn’t have the strength to fight off the Longneck, so she tried one more time, muttering weakly, “just go away.”

“Are you alright?” The Longneck stayed put, seemingly rooted in place. His question seemed genuine, and Cera gave him a genuine answer.

“No! And I won’t be alright until you’re long gone! My daddy warned me about you. I know what you are. I know what you can do.” She lowered her head, presenting her single horn to the Longneck in an aggressive display, her fire returning as she thought of the skeleton.

That won’t be me, she thought to herself.

“But if you think you can hurt me, I’d like to see you try.”

The Longneck paused for a moment, and then did something Cera could never have expected.

He laughed.

Cera froze in place, unsure whether to attack or stay put. Maybe that was his plan. Just like before, when he met her challenge with nothing but that annoying smile, maybe he was only trying to confuse her.

To catch her off guard.

“I know what you’re doing!” she said, her voice shaking, “and it’s not working! I won’t fall for your tricks.”

“How could I hurt you?” the Longneck replied, “you’re the one with a horn sticking out of your face. I just have this long neck.”

Apparently he found this funny, because he began to giggle softly. As he did so, he tilted his neck, craning it at an unusual angle that Cera would probably have found funny had the situation not been so tense. She tried moving her head to follow him, but it was impossible. When he tried sticking his tongue out, a clear attempt at returning her own rude gesture from earlier, she actually found she had to hold back a giggle. It was actually quite surprising to her. The Longneck had had plenty of opportunities to attack by now, and taken none of them. Her father had called Longnecks dangerous, hadn’t he? What was so dangerous about having a long neck? And he was right- out of the two of them, she was clearly the more dangerous one. At this, she stood a little taller, instinctively.

“Well you’re right about that. I am the one with the horn. Maybe you should be scared of me,” she puffed, “my daddy told me my horn is the sharpest out of all the kids in my herd, you know.”

The Longneck smiled at this, and Cera tried giving him one in return. Unfortunately, she was only able to pull off what could best be described as a half-grimace. The Longneck didn’t draw any closer, but it felt to Cera as if tensions had fallen, if only a little. She did not, however, let that catch her off guard. Being comfortable right now was an easy way to get her in a bad situation.

“Now tell me why you’re following me,” she said, trying to turn the conversation back on course, “don’t make me show you just how sharp my horn is.”

The Longneck began to quiver, though he was clearly trying to hide it. Cera, on the other claw, breathed a little easier. Finally, a response she could understand. If he wasn’t fearless, then maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t to be feared, either.

“I-I was just watching. My Grandpa said I should look at things before meeting them.”

“Watching me, huh?” she pressed him, pushing him on. She wanted to see his true side, to see that he too was capable of being afraid. “Yeah, right. My daddy said that I shouldn’t trust anyone. Not even a little Longneck like you.”

And then something dawned on her. How long had he been watching? Had he seen her crying? Seeing him shake, finally feeling like she was in the position of power, she realized that this was her biggest concern now, that this stranger had seen her show weakness. It was just like something her dad would say.

“And you shouldn’t have snuck up on me like that. It’s not nice.”

The Longneck was silent for a few moments. When he began to speak again he did so haltingly, carefully, as if every word was important. In a way, they were.

“Well… um…” he began, making his way cautiously over to the stream, “Well, I was just going to get a drink before I saw you along.”

He took a deep drink from the stream. Not entirely convinced, Cera kept her distance, but as he didn’t bring anything up about her crying earlier, she decided to let it go. .

“Fine. So get your drink and move along. We’re not supposed to be talking to each other, remember?”

And then what? she thought, do I just go back to sitting by myself at the waterside? She glanced over at the Longneck again, nervously, hoping he’d take the hint and just go. But he didn’t. Instead, he raised his tail in the air, as if to strike something.

Cera didn’t know what to expect, so she did the only thing that came to mind. She lowered herself, baring her horn just as her father did when threatened. But to her surprise, she wasn’t the target at all. Instead, he hit a small, smooth pebble which flew out over the stream, skipping on the way. She’d never seen anything like it before; she certainly had no clue how he’d done it. He turned to her, that same annoying grin from before on his face.

Nothing at that point in time could have made Cera more infuriated.

“How did you do that?” she asked finally, struggling to keep her temper in check. .

The Longneck shrugged as his demeanor became more playful, “I thought we weren’t supposed to talk to one another, remember?”

“Hmph.” Cera turned her snout up at him. This Longneck was a good talker, and despite the obvious danger a word-twister like him presented, she was more annoyed than scared now. He’d backed her into a corner, and she needed a way out to avoid making a fool of herself.

Again, she thought, reminded of the incident with the squirting buzzer.

“I’m not talking to you. I’m…” she paused, searching for the right word, the right phrase to counter the Longneck’s wit, “I’m talking beside you… to... the stream. You know. Just wondering aloud.”

The Longneck laughed at this, turning to the water as he did. To Cera’s utter bewilderment, he began to speak to his own reflection in the water’s surface. .

“What do you think, Reflection? Should we tell her how we beat her at skipping the rock?”

Beat me?! Cera’s eye twitched. It was personal now. The Longneck had decided to make it a competition, and ignoring her to talk to his own reflection? That only added dirt to the wound. Her outburst was immediate, and came without a moment of thought beforehand.

“What kind of a dummy talks to his own reflection? Just tell me how you skipped the rock!”

And then she stopped, shutting her mouth immediately as she realized what she’d done.

She made eye contact with him. More importantly, she’d spoken to him. Just like her father had warned her not to.

Uh oh…

Apparently oblivious to Cera’s own internal struggles, the Longneck found another rock and raised his tail again. Despite every urge to tackle the smug Longneck and knock him senseless, Cera’s curiosity got the better of her, and she found herself transfixed as she watched and learned.

“You have to hit it with the tip,” he said, repeating his previous motion and sending the stone skipping across to the other end of the stream. As it sunk out of sight, he smiled at her again, but this time it was a friendly smile, perhaps even one of encouragement.

Just turn around and go back to the herd. He’s trying to trick you.

She wanted to listen to the voice, to the sane part of her telling her to listen to her father and just go home, but there was a smooth rock within reach. She regarded it longingly, then made up her mind. Cera raised her tail.

Daddy never has to know.

She kept her eyes on him the whole time as she set up for her strike, making sure he wasn’t using the opportunity to set up an attack. She could ignore her father’s advice, but it would be stupid to forget it altogether. She had to be ready to react in an instant if things went wrong. When her tail reached its highest point, she brought her eyes down to the rock for just a moment-

Don’t make me regret this.

Before striking it as hard as she could. Immediately she snapped her eyes back up to the Longneck. He hadn’t moved. In fact, he seemed to be watching something. Against her better judgement, Cera followed his gaze just in time to see her stone skip before plunging into the stream.

“Nice!” the Longneck said, gathering up another pebble. It actually sounded like genuine praise to Cera. Maybe there wasn’t anything sinister about him after all. She grinned back at the Longneck. Now it was a competition, and she lived for competition.

“Hey, that’s pretty neat! I bet that’s farther than anyone else has ever skipped a rock.” A little less wary of him now, she set about finding more rocks to fling, looking up just in time to see another stone go whizzing past her, traveling much farther than her own shot.

“Whatever,” Cera scoffed, “you’re just lucky.” She set up her first stone from the small pile she had gathered and smacked it. The rock wobbled before sinking, having not skipped even once. Cera frowned.

It seemed, however, that she was not the only one to be visited by the misfortune. While her stone had failed to skip, the Longneck misjudged his swing completely and landed squarely on his rump. .

Cera couldn’t help it. She laughed. When the Longneck began to laugh with her, she began to laugh even harder, losing her balance and falling over, laughing away all the fear and insecurity she’d felt earlier. Everything melted away in that wild moment of expression; it was almost as if she and the Longneck had never been separated in the first place, and at that point, her father’s words were barely more than an echo in her mind.

As her laughter began to die down, Cera returned to her pile, still determined to beat the Longneck at his own game. “You know, you’re not what my daddy said you’d be like,” she said, taking aim and letting another rock fly. She managed a single skip. It wasn’t quite as spectacular as her first hit, but it was a start

“What did your dad say I was like?” the Longneck asked, going back to his own pile.

Cera considered bringing up the dead threehorn and her father’s lesson about strangers, but thought better of it. Somehow it didn’t seem right; she didn’t want the Longneck to be as scared of her as she had been of him.

“He said Longnecks were stuck-up and untrustworthy. But you don’t seem like that. Not right now, anyway.”

The Longneck nodded skipping another pebble. “And you don’t seem like the belly slider in my Grandpa’s story.”

“Belly slider?” Cera seemed almost insulted. What sort of idiot would compare a Threehorn to a belly slider? They weren’t similar at all! “Of course I’m not like a belly slider. What a dumb thing to say.”

The Longneck didn’t seem to mind the insult, however. “Well… his friends tried to play with it and… um… he got eaten.”

“Oh,” Cera said simply. She’d heard of Belly Sliders and their poisonous bites before. While she’d never heard of one eating a dinosaur before, that wasn’t entirely out of the question, either. In any case, it was a chilling prospect, one eerily familiar. She was beginning to see his point, and the realization came as a surprise to her. Had he been given the same talk as her after their first meeting today?

“So you thought… you thought I was someone that looked nice, but wasn’t nice inside,” she began to work through her thoughts aloud. “I think I get it. My daddy-” she stopped herself, not wanting to return that dry riverbed where the bones of the dead Threehorn sat, turning slowly to dust.

“My daddy actually said something like that to me, too.”

The Longneck moved closer as if to comfort her, but Cera bristled as he did. He was friendly, but that didn’t mean she could trust him. After all, that dead Threehorn might well have trusted his killer before he died. Thankfully, the Longneck seemed to sense her discomfort, and backed up, maintaining their respectful distance, and Cera relaxed again.

“Cera? Cera! It’s time to come back.”

Cera looked away from the Longneck and up to the sky. The Bright Circle was descending below the horizon, tinting everything above it with an orange-pink hue. She hadn’t meant to look afraid when the Longneck came closer; it was a sign of weakness, and she genuinely believed he meant her no harm. Yet her father’s words cast a shadow of doubt over her. There was always a chance. .

“I should go,” she said quietly, “that’s my daddy calling.”

Smiling, Littlefoot nodded at her, and for a moment Cera remembered the respectful nod her father and the Longneck’s mother had shared before splitting them up.

“So the name’s Cera?”

“Yeah. How about you?”

“Littlefoot,” he answered. His eyes never left her own. It was a symbol of trust, and to Cera, it was a moment of realization. He was not weak. Few could hold eye contact; it was a respectable trait.

“Littlefoot…” her voice trailed off as she nodded. “That’s a nice name. I-”

“Cera!”

She looked toward the sound of her father’s voice. That voice brought everything she’d learned today back at once, a swirling mess of fear, insecurity, and awareness that, despite the steps she’d taken to build up a friendship with the Longneck, brought everything grinding to a halt. She couldn’t continue with this; if she did, then her father would have taught her nothing. Bearing this in mind, she made her choice in that moment.

“It was nice to meet you, Littlefoot, and I hope you and your herd finds what they’re looking for,” she paused for a moment, “but I think we should stay with our own kind. It’s what our parents would want,” she added, trying to sound helpful.

Littlefoot frowned at this but nodded anyway. "I hope that you find what you are looking for too. Goodbye, Cera.”

And then Cera turned away from him and started off in the direction of her father’s voice. She didn’t look back, even as the Longneck’s footsteps finally faded away. Doing so, she reasoned, would only complicate things further.

“Good riddance,” she muttered under her breath. The words had little meaning behind them, but they helped- if only a little- to remind her of her place. The Longneck was not her friend. If anything, he was someone to be respected as an equal now, but not trusted. She looked back in his direction. To her relief, he was long gone.

“Threehorns never play with Longnecks,” she said, echoing her father’s words from before.

“Cera, it’s time to come home for dinner!”

She could see some of the other Threehorns up ahead. Her father was somewhere among them, waiting for her to arrive. They would go looking for food as a family tonight, Threehorns in the company of Threehorns, as it should be. She started forward eagerly, but stopped when something caught her eye.

A rock. Flat, circular, just within reach of her tail. She looked to the herd, then back to the rock, and without a moment’s thought, she lifted her tail and brought it back down, striking the rock and sending it spinning out over the water.

One skip, two skips, three skips. She grinned.

“Cera?”

“I’m coming, Daddy!” she answered him, watching as the ripples marking her achievement faded. Three skips. The Longneck had only managed two.

Let’s see you beat that.

Cera headed home.

Sovereign · **Reply #3 on:** April 22, 2017, 11:51:58 AM

It was certainly a nice idea to do a story about two competing perspectives about this single meeting and the events that unfolded in the aftermath.

The lessons of the parents and the encounter after them were done greatly in both stories and they managed to deepen the personalities of the two during their early childhood while respecting the different "cultures" of the herds.

In rhombus' story, the overall atmosphere was executed very nicely, having the warmer, more positive feeling of the two stories. The dialogue and Littlefoot's inner thoughts worked nicely and it was really pleasant to see the four longnecks together for the last day. Also, Grandpa's story was realistic and understandable and underlined the most important skill in the Mysterious Beyond. However, the name Baku was quite funny. After all, Baku is the capital city of Azerbaijan.

In the end scene, the impact of Grandpa's story and Littlefoot's natural curiosity were intertwined very nicely and the scene was a good way to continue the duo's relationship. The scene when Littlefoot talks to his reflection and Cera's reaction to it were hilarious.

The way this whole sequence was done was really worked due to it's funny dialogue and descriptions and the ending was a good way to show that Littlefoot's loneliness didn't suit him at all.

As for Fyn's story, Cera's lack of knowledge in treating with other kinds was a nice perspective that I didn't think of it during the film. Cera seemed more used to meeting with other dinosaurs but it's very plausible that she didn't understand even her father's way of thought well. This overall weakness in Cera's character was carried very well and it created a new perspective to her actions.

Also, the fact that the duo's lessons were very similar despite the different style in telling is a believable thing. Despite the different ways of seeing the world, each of the different kinds share the same basic needs. In addition, Cera's reaction to seeing the skeleton told a lot about her still-innocent personality and the harsher way her father wants to teach his children.

In this story, the ending sequence managed to tie Cera's lessons with her personality in her inability to chase Littlefoot away for good. The way he kept getting on her nerves while still stirring positive emotions in her were told very nicely and as such, this story showed Cera's internal struggles very believably.

Overall, these two stories built once again the ending scene very cleverly, making both of the two utilize their lessons and inner fears and personalities in a entertaining and believable, yet funny way. They really managed to tell about their overall feeling during the Migration while making the two learn a very important lesson in a good, funny way. Excellent job with these two stories!

Sneak · **Reply #4 on:** April 25, 2017, 12:22:43 PM

You don't know what feeling of loss is, Littlefoot. For now...

has just read Littlefoot's part.

Still like it!

That tale about snakes made me shiver... Did you add this scene after that deleted scene from movie, where Littlefoot encountered snake?

Though, I am kinda sad that Cera is... isn't bitchy in Littlefoot's eyes at all. Lol. I didn't know someday I will be confused by that!

Also, I remember Topps called Cera by name right before telling about "Threehorn-Longneck play" speech.

only strange thing: why does Grandpa call the place "mysterious beyond"? It's kind of lame. I think this name was created only after they found the valley, because it makes more sense.

Will read Cera's part soon.

Ducky123 · **Reply #5 on:** April 26, 2017, 11:28:39 AM

You know, guys, this conversation could very well take place in my own new story. Now I have to be careful not to feel inspired too much, damn

Truth be told, though, this was excellent. The idea alone to collaborate on this challenge in the way you did is one of your better, I'd say and that's not an empty phrase to say

The way you described the events of the movie and expanded them was very well done. The dialogue you added felt so natural and in-character that I felt tempted to read out loud, speaking for each character in their unique way. Grandpa's slow and gentle flow of talk full of wisdom, Topps' deep and gruff voice, Littlefoot's kind as well as Cera's often prideful and boastful voice. You captured all of them excellently in my opinion. The dialogues felt canon to me, especially between Cera and Littlefoot. Honestly, it would be nice to see such a scene animated, I'm not kidding. Once more I wish I were a better artist able to pull such illustrations off just from memory.

It seems like both got a well thought of lecture in a way (I wonder where inspiration for "Belly Sliders" came from

) that deeply affected their behavior towards each other yet, in the end, they disobeyed their parents. Moreover, though, they did so with their words firmly in mind. Had Cera not been told to be wary of Longnecks, she surely wouldn't have been acting like a scared hatchling towards Littlefoot but rather in her usual manner that only breaks through again after she begins to trust the Longneck.

I find the last few lines were especially well-written. It almost feels out of character for Cera to talk like that but, under these circumstances, it's totally understandable for her to be nice

Simply a joy to read, well done guys. I may reread this and record myself failing to pronounce all kind of words just for the fun of it at some point

Before I hit the post button, one question: How did you write this? As in... how did you make sure to follow the same storyline? I'm gonna assume you guys wrote a dialogue for each of you to follow and then wrote your piece each?

rhombus · **Reply #6 on:** April 26, 2017, 12:00:29 PM

Quote from: Ducky123,Apr 26 2017 on 10:28 AM

Before I hit the post button, one question: How did you write this? As in... how did you make sure to follow the same storyline? I'm gonna assume you guys wrote a dialogue for each of you to follow and then wrote your piece each?

That is a good question. The initial idea to do a collaboration in this way came from Fyn, so he should take much of the credit for this collaboration happening. We began by starting with an idea of when the scene would happen, and began our intro (and parental lesson) scenes on our own. Then from there we went ahead and looked over the intros to make sure that their were no discrepancies, and then we worked out the dialogue and events in a RP-type format on GoogleDocs. Once the RP-style narrative was constructed we each modified it so that it would be from our character's perspective and put everything together.

Thanks for the reviews, everyone.

I am glad to see that our stories were well received. Who knows, we might consider doing something like this again in the future.

Fyn16 · **Reply #7 on:** April 26, 2017, 03:22:41 PM

I, too, would like to thank you all for your reviews, and as Rhombus said- yes, I'm definitely open to potential collabs like this in the future. After all, there are many more months in the year...

Now I do feel that I should explain my take on Cera, and why she's less of a jerk at the end here than how she's usually portrayed. The one thing to keep in mind here is that both of these characters are pretty young, with little world experience (either positive or negative). The only "negative" trait Cera has going for her is the traditional Threehorn stubbornness and defensiveness, not necessarily the borderline bigotry she picks up throughout the second half of the film, so when she snarks back at Littlefoot during their first meeting, it's not because he's different and a Longneck, but because he dared to laugh at her, highlighting a mistake she made. If there's one thing we know about Cera, it's that she hates being proven wrong. This goes on to explain why her father's interruption confuses her; he sees the Longnecks (or any outsider) as a potential threat, therefore his bigotry is born of fear. When he instills that same fear in Cera (the skeleton scene), he plants the seeds that will become Cera's outlook on the rest of the Gang later in the movie, but for the moment, she is simply confused by it. She continues to be confused, and almost rejects it during the rock-skipping scene with Littlefoot, but hearing her father manages to bring his lesson full circle and, in a surprising moment of maturity, Cera drops all emotion and realizes that her place in the world (at least according to the grown-ups) is not with Littlefoot, so she chooses to obey, willingly giving into a lifestyle of fear and mistrust, because it is how she believes the world has to work. This is why, when they meet again, she is less kind towards Littlefoot, because he is once again challenging her view of a world where separation is ideal.

In short, I believed that it would not do Cera's character justice to make her bossy and cranky just because "that's the way Threehorns are." I felt it would be fun and enlightening to go into the reasons why she and most of her kind think this way. In any case, I'm glad the result wasn't too jarring, and I'm particularly glad that you've all found this new take on a collaborative piece to be interesting. With feedback like this, I have no doubt that we can make something like this happen again in the future!