FF.net link: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12535668/11/We-Will-Hold-On-Forever --
We Will Hold On Forever
by
DaveTheAnalyzer
Chapter 11: Seeking Sanctuary Part 2
Cera and Chomper looked around nervously as they followed Verter into an area they never thought they would be in. The grass beneath their feet gave way to tough, cracked earth, too hard for more than little clumps of grass to grow. The land was rough but mostly even with only a handful of rocks dotted here and there. Not all the cracks and craters around were naturally developed by time. Many showed signs that a limb or body had been thrown there. Cera and Chomper wouldn’t have found this place very remarkable, as it looked like many bare areas in the Great Valley and especially the Mysterious Beyond, except for the yells and smacks of dinosaurs exchanging blows.
“So, here we are.” Verter said. “What do you think?”
Cera and Chomper stared. In front of them, three pairs of dinosaurs were engaged in combat. Two flyers swept above, wavering and nearly falling out of the air as they struck at one another with clumsy beaks and talons. Two domeheads exchanged fists and knocked heads, dodging and blocking blows with a swiftness that was almost like a dance. But it was two the squareshields that were the most vicious. Their horns clanked and clashed with great enmity, scratches indicating where a blow managed to slip through. Cera and Chomper made sure to stick close to Verter, wondering what they were doing here.
This was one the few designated battle grounds in the Great Valley. With so many different kinds of dinosaurs living in one place, with so many different ways, it was agreed that most disputes should be settled only with words. Granted, some verbal exchanges could get heated, even elevate to shouting, but most people restrained from flinging themselves at each other and those who almost did were stopped before they did anything violent.
But there were still dinosaurs who saw fighting as the only solution. For them, that was where the battle grounds came in. Here dinosaurs could let loose until they worked out whatever grudge they had, the only limits being not to inflict any serious or mortal injuries on one another. They also made convenient sparring grounds, ones children and some smaller dinosaurs were forbidden from entering. Occasionally, Cera and her friends paused to watch the fights. Cera would sometimes grumble and think she was ready for that action. Now, though…
“In over our heads.” Chomper admitted. “Can we really go at it like these guys?”
Cera was glad that Chomper spoke the thoughts going through her head. These six moved with many cold times of experience. Despite her many adventures, she felt like a hatchling in comparison to what was in front of them.
“Not right away.” Verter looked back and smiled reassuringly. “But all it takes is one well-aimed strike to take even the strongest opponent down. I’ll be doing my best to sharpen those skills.”
Cera sighed. “Looks like we have a lot of hard work ahead of us.”
“Oh, don’t make it sound like a chore,” he said. “Training might be hard work but it can be fun. These people wouldn’t be doing it if they didn’t find it rewarding.”
On cue, one domehead grabbed her opponent, thrust her up, and slammed her into the ground. The tossed domehead gasped, the victor pinning her down. For a moment, burning eyes met each other, bodies thrumming with passion. Then to Cera and Chomper’s surprise, goofy grins split across the domeheads’ faces. The victor pulled her opponent to her feet, and they exchanged backslaps and head-butts. Breathless, covered with sweat and light bruises, they laughed. Seeing the happiness they gained from the extreme bout made Cera and Chomper smile.
“Well, I guess it can’t be that bad.” Cera admitted.
“It’ll be more than not bad.” Verter said. “This will be wonderful for you kids.”
The two domeheads appeared to have heard him. Turning, they gazed curiously at Verter and his charges.
“Oh, it’s that threehorn girl and her sharptooth friend.” The victor domehead said. “What are they doing here?”
“I’m training them.” Verter said. “They need to learn how to protect themselves, since there’s been a murder in the valley.”
The area went quiet. The dueling flyers froze mid-strike and moved to land while even the aggressive squareshields withdrew their horns from each other to look around.
“What?” The defeated domehead said, staring. “Are you serious?”
Verter nodded. “The one killed was a certain Mr. Clubtail, I don’t think I caught his actual name. He was pushed from a high place and was dragged to a sweet bubble patch to make it look like an accident. The killer’s still at large.”
The six fighters stared at Verter, wide-eyed.
“Damn – erm, darn!” One of the flyers said, glancing at Cera and Chomper. “This just happened? I – I need to check on my family!”
“Yeah.” A squareshield nodded faintly. “I guess this means it’s no time to be fighting.”
But the flyers already glanced at each other and took off, enmity forgotten. The squareshields walked away side-by-side, glancing at one another as though they still wanted to go at it.
“After we check on our herd, we should volunteer to patrol.” The victor domehead way saying, earning a nod. She glanced at Verter’s charges. “You’ll train these two? That’s kind of dubious. What can kids do against something that killed a clubtail?”
“Ah, but your recognition of them means you know of their reputation as adventurers and sharptooth combaters.” Verter said. “They’re more competent than they look. Don’t worry, I’ll train them in an age appropriate manner.”
Cera defiantly glared and even Chomper hastily tried to look serious. The domeheads hesitated but in front of Verter’s confident expression, they sighed and turned to leave.
“What is this valley coming to?” The defeated domehead muttered, shaking her head.
Cera and Chomper attempted to ignore them. The two trainees surveyed the landscape for where to start, but Verter’s gaze was on the departing domeheads.
“They sounded very concerned for you, for domeheads,” he observed.
“I guess.” Cera shrugged. “I was wary of them too, since some attacked me on the way to the valley, but here they’re pretty okay. In the valley, you just got to live and let live with the other kinds.”
“Mmm.” Verter shook himself. “Right, training! This way!”
He led them into the fighting grounds, toward a collection of rocks near the Great Wall that ranged from small spherical stones to giant boulders. Some appeared to have grown there while others have rolled or fallen from the Great Wall.
“We’ll begin here.” Verter waved them over. “Go over to two you-sized rocks and practice breaking them down. Cera, you know the threehorns routine. Chomper, strike at the rock with your muzzle, hands, feet, and tail. Time it with her. Don’t go all out, I just want to familiarize myself with what sharpteeth are capable of.”
“That should be easy enough for me to handle.” Cera said. She glanced at Chomper. “Can you keep up?”
He straightened and almost glared. “Yes! I can do this.”
They walked over to the rocks. Cera went for a jumbled one half her size while Chomper made a beeline for one only a bit larger than himself. After they took positions, Verter nodded. Gathering up nerve, the pair scraped their feet on the ground and charged at the rocks. Chomper struck his with his muzzle and stumbled back, a bit stunned. Cera’s horn rammed into her rock and a few cracks radiated out. Recovering for a second, the pair backed up and attacked the rocks again, and again. The effort forced them to concentrate on how hard to hit their targets while making sure not to hurt themselves. All the while, Verter watched them, smiling and nodding as though calculating their strengths and seeing potentials for improvement.
Cera was glad for the activity. It was repetitive but she was used to it and it gave her something to concentrate on that wasn’t the guilt thrumming in her chest. All the mind power that wasn’t focused on the act of attacking her target was filled with triumph or annoyance at the results and thoughts about how to inflict more damage the next go-around. Still, a few thoughts about this morning slipped through.
*It wasn’t a big deal. Others must have said far more annoying things. He wouldn’t have cared what a snarky kid like me said…right?*
Crash.
She didn’t know. Cera only talked with Mr. Clubtail a handful of times. She hadn’t known him like she knew Littlefoot and her other friends. Heck, she knew Ruby and Chomper better than Mr. Clubtail, and they were more recent additions to the valley. Mr. Clubtail had mostly been a neighbor, sometimes pleasant, sometimes irritating, but not someone she had ever been close to. For all she knew, he might have taken her comments personally…
Crash!
He was gone. Even if her comments did have an effect, she couldn’t help him. She just had to accept she would never see him again and move on like she did with…
Crash! Crash!
*Stop! Stop thinking about them! I should be done with this, so why – why can’t I – ?*
“Cera? Cera, stop, you’ll hurt yourself!”
Blinking, Cera woke up to her surroundings. Backing up, she found half of her rock had cracked and crumbled, the pieces pebbled around the ground. As she gazed at the damage, she winced, more than a few cuts twinging to attention. Chomper and Verter stared with concern.
“Are you okay?” Chomper asked.
“I’m – I’m fine.” Cera had a hard time making eye contact. “Just got caught up in the moment, that’s all.”
“Try not to do that.” Verter said. “You tend to be less aware of yourself when cooped up in your thoughts, so you might hurt yourself more than you think.”
“R-right.”
Cera resumed ramming her rock at a slower and more careful pace. Chomper attempted to match her, ravaging the rock with claws and a tail slam this time, but he found his gaze kept drifting to her. She was taking Mr. Clubtail’s death hard, he thought. Her outburst after the news was more than a momentary flare of grief. This was clearly eating at her. Chomper felt a surge of sympathy. He didn’t know Mr. Clubtail for long but to hear he might have died alone tore him up as well.
Though even in her state, Cera was doing well in the training. Rubbing his chest, Chomper watched her reduce her rock to a third its size, various-shaped pieces spraying out after each other. He had been able to dislodge a few pebbles and put some cracks in his rock but compared to hers, it was clear who had the greater strength here. Chomper had attacked some larger dinosaurs with his bite, but all he could do at best was provide a brief distraction. Cera probably wouldn’t take down any large dinosaurs but at least her horn could do more damage, maybe even hobble an opponent. She would be more useful. For a moment, a flash of anger made him charge and slam his rock with more force. He was so small, why couldn’t he be helpful like her?
“Chomper, calm down.”
Chomper started and stepped back. Verter’s eyes were serious.
“Be careful with that anger.” Verter continued. “If you must have it, make sure its focused on the target.”
Chomper looked around. Cera was looking at him, wary with concern. He gulped.
“R-right,” he said.
He hit the rock again but with much less anger. He saw Verter watching him closely and kept his hits more measured accordingly. He tried to keep himself focused so his attention wouldn’t stray to Cera and whatever anger that remained wouldn’t stray from the rock but he wasn’t sure how successful he was. Verter eventually called for a break.
“Let’s see what you’ve done.”
The pair stepped back for Verter to examine what remained of their rocks. Cera’s was nothing more than a memory, a scattered pile of pebbles and pieces. Chomper had several loose bits dislodged and cracks entered but otherwise remained solid. Chomper schooled his emotions to neutral.
“Not bad, not bad.” Verter hummed. “There does need to be improvement on how you two angle yourselves so you could crush the rocks more quickly. Don’t worry, I’ll teach you how. For now, let’s get to exercises.”
“Exercises?” Cera repeated. “We get plenty of exercise. Our group runs around and plays all the time.”
“As I’ve deduced. But I’m talking about different kind of exercise. Stretches, jogging, climbing…those will get your muscles used to doing greater work. First, stretches.”
Soon Cera and Chomper found themselves doing such, pulling their limbs out, leaning to the side, and cranking back in particular ways that Verter carefully instructed. Already Chomper could feel the strain as his muscles were pulled into positions they never reached before. He kept his breaths even but Cera was growling under her breath from the exertion. Occasionally, Verter looked around as he spoke, but his focus always returned to them, often to Chomper in particular.
*Great.* Chomper thought. *So I’m a threat to my friends too.*
He wrestled with the guilt and annoyance in his chest. He had heard Verter’s comments to the crowd about his “unique needs,” and they reawakened his anxieties. Chomper had often worried about what might happen if he lost control of his sharptooth instincts with his friends. He committed completely to a diet of bugs and snapping shells and pushed away thoughts about how tasty the leaf eaters looked. Even when menaced by suspicious leaf eaters or threatening sharpteeth, he refused to bite in self-defense. For the most part, he succeeded. Chomper only looked at the valley residents as friends and neighbors now and it hardly occurred to him to find them delectable.
But for the next many days, he would be learning to fight, imagining how he could hurt and take down an opponent. All those buried instincts would resurface. If he wasn’t careful, he might not be able to hold the same control again. Chomper hated this. He wanted to protect his friends, but in order to gain the ability to do so, he would likely have to reawaken instincts that could very well get them hurt. It could add another challenge to his long term stay in the Great Valley.
*Would I be dealing with this if I only had sharptooth friends? Our kind do like to get into fights. Maybe if I was with my parents, they would be teaching me how to get along with others…*
The thought of parents made Chomper aware of a scent that had been lingering in the air for some time. Blinking, he continued his stretches but glanced to the side where the scent originated. Standing in the shadows of the distant treeline was Mr. Threehorn. His expression was neutral but there was a fatherly watchfulness to him. It appeared he wanted to make sure the training was going smoothly.
Acting casual, aware of when Verter’s attention strayed, Chomper flicked his eyes to Cera until he got her attention. He glanced significantly in Mr. Threehorn’s direction. She looked confused but he repeated the eye motion until she cottoned on. Her gaze followed where he indicated and she saw her father. She stood straighter and did her stretches more methodically, looking nervously at Mr. Threehorn. A smile flickered in, indicating she needn’t mind him and continue on as normal. Cera continued the stretches, energized by the encouragement in her father’s expression.
For a while. Mr. Threehorn watched Verter encourage and instruct Cera and Chomper in their stretches. Though the pair appeared somewhat tired, they did their best to keep up. Once Mr. Threehorn seemed sure they were being well taken care of, he gave a supportive nod and walked off. Cera found herself in better spirits. At least her father appeared proud of what they were doing.
There was a crack at their feet, and Cera and Chomper yelped. They looked around wildly only to realize it had been Verter, flicking a vine with his teeth.
“Good to keep you on your toes,” he chuckled. “Now, let’s get running. Laps around the area. Scoot.”
Meanwhile, Tria sat at a distance, watching Tricia wrestle with Dinah and Dana. Somehow, Tricia had overpowered the rough-and-tumble twins, batting away their squirming attempts to get back on top. From their squeals, it sounded like they were having the time of their lives. Tria smiled. Near the toddlers, Dinah and Dana’s parents looked up briefly to exchange similar expressions with her. At least there was some joy happening on this terrible day.
The sound of footsteps became apparent and Tria turned to find Mr. Threehorn approaching, thoughtful.
“How did it go?” she asked.
Mr. Threehorn sat beside her. “Don’t worry. Verter’s not making Cera and Chomper do any more than they have to. In fact, when Cera started hitting a rock a bit too hard during a rock breaking test, Verter ordered her to stop. Those two are in safe paws.”
Tria sighed. “I’m still not happy about this.”
“I know. But as much as I hate to admit it, Verter’s right – we can’t watch over Cera and her friends forever. They’re bound to slip off sooner or later. Even when we stepped to the task against that sharptooth, they had to save us. If there’s a way we can make sure they come back alive from whatever they get involved in, we should take it.”
Tria looked away. “I suppose we haven’t been doing a good job at protecting them. Still, I’m scared. Cera doesn’t always know her limits and Chomper’s so young. If they get hurt, the injuries might stay with them for the rest of their lives.”
He frowned. “You seem very concerned about what happens to Chomper.”
“Well, of course I am,” she said. “He’s Cera’s friend. I’d be worried about any of them”
“He’s also a sharptooth. Verter’s right, he should be trained while we he still isn’t a threat to the children.”
“Not this again.” Tria said with exasperation. “Chomper has been so nice with the others kids. How can you be saying this?”
“I’m saying this because I’m realistic.” Mr. Threehorn said. He sighed. “Chomper has a good heart. I can see that. But he’s still a sharptooth. A good heart can only do so much before he needs to address his diet. Even with the risks, we need to find a way to control him. I’m sure even he would agree with me. He wouldn’t want to hurt his friends – it would hurt his kind nature too much to turn against-” he sighed with frustration. “I wish we didn’t have to deal with this. Knowing sharpteeth have complex inner lives isn’t going to be of any help if they’re menacing us. Sometimes I wish he and Ruby could have solved their problems among their own kind, then we wouldn’t be in this situation.”
Silence. Tria shuffled, almost guilty.
“I do see a point with your frustrations,” she admitted. “But for whatever the problems, I’m glad to know Chomper. Besides, we can’t change the past anyway.”
“True.” Mr. Threehorn sighed. “If it makes you feel any better, I did point out to Verter how Chomper’s parents might react if their son got injured in this training. I’m sure he’ll be careful.”
Tria frowned. “Wait…I don’t remember you mentioning Chomper’s parents to him.”
“I talked about them last night. He came around while I was having trouble sleeping and we chatted.”
“You didn’t tell me about this.”
“I turned him down.” Mr. Threehorn said defensively. “I used the same logic you did. I would have told you at some point but Mr. Clubtail drove it clean from my mind.”
Tria shook her head. “I can’t believe this. Still, I understand. Mr. Clubtail’s death has thrown us all off our feet.” She paused. “Why did he come around when the herd leader gave a curfew?”
“Oh, you know him. He’s rarely concerned about breaking the rules. We talked about some of my recent worries – that’s all.”
“Your worries…so he didn’t talk about himself.”
“Well, no.” Mr. Threehorn said, confused. “Most of his comments were about me and the kids. What are you getting at?”
“Topsy,” Tria said hesitantly, “I don’t mean to accuse Verter of anything, but…it sounds like he was trying to find a way to pressure you into giving permission to train Cera and Chomper.”
“What?” Mr. Threehorn shook his head. “No, no. He might get up to mischief but you knew him. He isn’t that kind of person.”
“I’m not so sure. I do remember him being very good with his words. With how he was talking this morning, it was like he was rushing us to agree.”
“Listen to yourself.” Mr. Threehorn said shortly. “Do you think this is some sort of conspiracy? What nefarious purpose would he have for training those two?”
“I – I don’t know.” Tria lowered her head uncertainly. “I just think…didn’t how he push us kind of bother you?”
Narrowing his eyes, Mr. Threehorn opened his mouth but paused in thought. Looking uncomfortable, it took several seconds for him to respond.
“He might be doing this because he’s worried about us,” he said. “When you want to help those you love, sometimes you have to do questionable things to get them to cooperate. To make sure the kids would be safe, he had to push us to have Cera and Chomper trained.”
“Y-yeah. That does sound like something he would do.” Tria said slowly. Looking back, Verter did use his word play to push others in positive directions. He almost never seemed to think about those actions, but many valued him for it. There were times Verter played people for his own ends but…what other reasons would he have for wanting to train Cera and Chomper? In the end, maybe Verter did pressure them out of genuine concern. Tria knew plenty of difficult people (one of whom, she was guilty to admit, was her own husband) and most of the time they were only trying to accomplish what they considered was the greater good. It made sense. Besides, she shouldn’t let her paranoia drive away a friend whose good humor could give the family some relief in this crises. Seeing her relax, Mr. Threehorn smiled.
“See, nothing to worry about,” he said. “Tria, what is this about? You aren’t normally this suspicious of anyone.”
“I don’t know,” she sighed. “I guess I am overthinking things. Maybe it’s what you said earlier. We can’t do anything to prevent Cera and her friends from wandering off, or protect them from any threats. I was barely able to slow that sharptooth down. I just feel a bit useless. As a mother, I should be able to protest my children. I thought the training you gave me would help but…I guess someone who couldn’t pass the regiment can’t just play catch up now.”
“What? No, Tria…you’re not...” Mr. Threehorn said, distressed by her self-criticism. “What are you talking about?”
“It’s what Verter said. He probably didn’t mean anything by it, but he talked about Cera and Chomper passing in a way that made me think about my failures with the Threehorn Ascension. You know I gave up on it early when we were young. The regiments were so difficult. I tried to stick with them but I thought it wasn’t for me. After joining the family, I thought I could just pick up where I left off but,” she lowered her head, “I guess that was arrogant of me. I can never be as strong as you.”
“Oh, Tria.” Mr. Threehorn stepped closer. “Don’t think you’re useless. You’re so helpful in taking care of the girls and dealing with our family challenges. And as for being strong…much as I hate to admit it I was thrown around as much as you were with that sharptooth. We can get better, we just need to train more. Even with your late start, you improved so much when we made time for threehorn practice. If given more time, I’m sure you’ll become even better.”
“You think so?” Tria said, raising her head. “I’m not as spry as I used to be. It’s harder to learn things when you’re older.”
“Hey, you adapted to being a wife and mother quickly enough. Improving our fighting skills will only take a bit more time. I know we’ve kind of slacked off lately, with parenting and other matters, but we could resume those lessons anytime.”
Tria hesitated. “If – if it wouldn’t be too much of a demand on you.”
“Hey, I still have some energy in these old bones. I’d be more than happy to.” Mr. Threehorn nuzzled her. “We’ll get through this, Tria. Sooner or later, we’ll figure out where these ghosts are coming from and find a way to deal with them. Then the valley will return to normal. Cera and her friends will be safe. I swear it.”
A smile flicking in, Tria nuzzled him back. She wanted to believe he was right. That was what she liked about him, his sure confidence when attempting to protect those he loved. She came to know he wasn’t always right and it could be frustrating instead of assuring but he did so much to help the family. She decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. Currently, they settled in and watched Tricia have fun with her cousins, discussing the particulars of future training.
--
Littlefoot accompanied his grandparents through the valley, eyes lowered. He had become too deadened to shed anymore tears. The death of a dear valley member was more than he could take, so all thought shut down. All he could do now was put one foot in front of the other. He was just going through the motions, hoping, beseeching for this day to end.
Then a walk up a slight incline forced Littlefoot to raise his gaze. From his position between his grandparents’ forefeet, he glimpsed forlorn expressions. There was regret in their eyes. Suddenly, he realized they hadn’t said much since his outburst back near Mr. Clubtail’s body. He thought he heard them talk to two people but he barely noticed. He supposed they were only trying to give him space but he was starting to realize it was more than that. Somewhere among the numbness, a sliver of icy guilt settled in, small but sharp.
“There you longnecks are.”
The spikethumb leader marched toward them, expression grim.
“I've heard what happened this morning,” she continued. “We need to talk.”
Grandpa and Grandma Longneck glanced at their grandson.
“Littlefoot, may you stand over there while we speak with the herd leader?” Grandpa Longneck asked. “This might be…difficult.”
Littlefoot hesitated, took one look at the spikethumb leader’s face, and decided discretion was the better part of valor. Quickly, he walked a fair distance until he stood under a pennation tree, where his grandparents could see him clearly. By the time he turned back, the spikethumb leader was whispering fiercely to them. From his grandparents’ expressions, she hadn’t come by for a friendly chat. Though they kept their voices quiet, Littlefoot managed to catch a few bits of the exchange.
“…told us it would be safe.” The spikethumb leader said.
“We aren’t even sure this is a murder.” Grandpa Longneck said. “The body is too battered to tell.”
“This is a rumor that is spreading wildly.” Grandma Longneck said. “We are frustrated with this too. People should be more careful about what they say.”
“Then why aren’t you doing more to stem the rumors?” The spikethumb leader snapped. “I need to know if my herd is in danger, and since it’s hard to sort fact from story, they’re starting to panic…”
She continued on quietly, Grandpa and Grandma Longneck attempting to appear reassuring and contrite. The sliver of icy guilt in bloomed in Littlefoot’s chest. He closed his eyes, but he couldn’t block out their voices.
*They were only trying to help me,* he thought. *Why did I snap like that?*
He thought he knew why. For the last couple of days, he was confronted by death wherever he looked – there was the dream about his grandparents, the murder attempts by Ichy and Dil and the sharptooth ghost, the emotional fallout over the many ghost revelations, and his conversation with his grandparents two days back. Any of those events would be stressful enough on their own, but after happening back-to-back, sometimes with more than one happening in a single day, it was more than Littlefoot could take. These past few days had made him cognizant of everyone’s mortality. At any moment, someone could die, randomly and without reason, and those left behind had little choice but pick up the pieces. No one had any idea of the time they had left – Ichy, Hyp’s mother, and Cera’s mother and sisters demonstrated that. Littlefoot had only watched this pain from the sidelines, but Mr. Clubtail’s death reopened those feelings of personal loss and it made him realize…
*My friends, my family…we’ve been so lucky since Mother’s death. We helped save so many people. But we can’t save everyone. Even if this killer is caught, there are so many dangers out there. How much time will pass before – before -*
That was the crux of Littlefoot’s issue. He felt powerless to do anything about death. He helped avert it for many individuals, but that was only delaying the inevitable. Sooner or later, Littlefoot’s efforts would fall short or he just wouldn’t be present when a crises happened, and someone he treasured would be lost. Even if no other dangers wracked the valley again, he would still have to watch his loved ones age and pass one by one. Was this what he had to look forward to? Those he loved leaving him, sometimes without any misunderstandings cleared, or even a goodbye? He didn’t want that. How could anyone live with that? But what could he do?
Then his grandparents mentioned the circle of life and all that despair turned to fury. All of the suffering and death was because of how that concept arranged the world. Why should he have any warm feelings toward it? With how distraught he was, it was only understandable when his grandparents tried to point out the positives of the circle, he lashed out.
*Sometimes, I really hate how accepting they are of terrible things. I want that to change…but I don’t want to make them miserable. I mean – what if something bad happens to them?*
Littlefoot shivered. The concept of his grandparents being murdered, taken away like Mr. Clubtail had been, was almost too much for him to take. He thought the talk with his grandparents two days back helped him prepare for what was to come but now…suddenly, he wanted more time with his grandparents, to play and smile and be with them in all the ways he could think of. It was hard enough to accept his mother was gone but to face a future without their gentle presence… he didn’t want it.
Littlefoot hated this, didn’t think he could ever accept the circle of life, but he didn’t wish to fight with his grandparents over it. If this was the reality, he wanted them to be happy but he couldn’t think he could ever keep quiet if they spoke approvingly of it. Littlefoot felt like he was in a bind. He either had to accept he would lose his grandparents to the sands of time or have them lose their happiness to his discontent. Neither option was tenable but what else was there?
*Mother, can you hear me? I don’t know what to do. I don’t want to lose anybody but I don’t want to hurt my grandparents either. Can I fix this? Mother, are you there? Please, I need help. Mother…*
“Littlefoot, is that you?”
Littlefoot started. Opening his eyes, he looked to his right and found Patty gazing at him uncertainly. He had been leaning against the tree, head bowed in distress. Hastily, he got to his feet.
“Oh, Patty,” he said. “I was just resting. Today has been grueling. What are you up to?”
“I’ve been walking around.” Patty swept her gaze about. “The Great Valley is beautiful. I can see why the people here have defended it so passionately.”
“Yeah.” Littlefoot also looked around. “There’s usually enough green food to go around. Everyone can get along. It’s beautiful. It’s become home.”
“That’s good,” she said. “After everything you've been through, you deserve to have a home like this.”
He smiled. She was right. After all the danger and terror that could encompass his life, it was nice to always have a home to go back to. Everyone should have a home like this. His stomach growled.
Patty’s lips twitched. “It looks like you haven’t had your morning meal.”
Littlefoot blushed. She only tilted her head invitingly and led him to a tall tree with crisp and dark-toned leaves, detaching several and laying them at his feet. He scanned them with delight.
“Thanks. I’m starving.” Littlefoot lowered his head and chomped down, shutting his eyes at the delicious taste spreading across his tongue. He was about to take another bite but looked up. “Aren’t you going to have any?”
“Don’t worry, Littlefoot.” Patty said. “I already had my fill. Take all you need.”
Without further distraction, he bit down another mouthful of leaves. He felt himself ease as he ate. Now he partly saw why Spike liked to inhale so much green food. It was soothing. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Patty watch him with interest.
“You really are going at it,” she said. “Why did you wait so long to eat anyway?”
Littlefoot gulped down his latest. “Me and my grandparents were going to get green food from the watering hole but then…we got distracted by a crowd. They were looking at Mr. Clubtail. He’s…gone.”
Patty’s expression turned sad. “I’m sorry to hear that. Was he that clubtail near you when your grandparents greeted the herd?”
“Yes. He was kind a grouch but he could be nice and…”
Littlefoot’s eyes stung. He lowered down to eat more of the leaves but his throat was dry and he had to blink to clear his sight. Maybe he should have given Mr. Clubtail a present at some point. Some sweet bubbles or the higher treestars. For no other reason than to be nice. Mr. Clubtail could have been reminded that though some were annoyed by him, he was still liked anyway. But his death made those thoughts irrelevant. Littlefoot would never speak to him again.
Patty blew out a breath. “It seems we can’t escape death even in this valley. Wherever we go, it always follows, robbing us of those we care about on the greatest of whims.”
“It’s scary how the grownups accept it.” Littlefoot said. “They’re sad, they want to know what happened, but they sigh and say it’s part of the circle of life. I don’t like to think I’d one day be like that.”
“The circle of life is an idea used to help cope with the cruelty of the world,” she said. “The thought you’re part of some greater design, where even if something terrible happens, you might end up somewhere happy…it makes you feel like there’s a purpose to life.”
“My grandparents believe it,” he said quietly.
“Believing it doesn’t make them bad people.” Patty replied. “Though it sounds like you believed it yourself until recently.”
“I just kind of accepted it.” Littlefoot looked down. “I didn’t entirely like the circle of life but I just nodded along whenever someone mentioned it. But during times like this…I really don’t like it.”
“When you feel powerless, it’s only natural to dislike the thing you feel is robbing you of power,” she said.
“Yeah,” he said. “I wonder if Mother would be okay with me being angry about it. My grandparents believed in the circle of life, so I wonder if they taught it to her. I can’t remember her saying anything about it.”
“I’m sure she would understand.” Patty said. “We all do things out of grief we don’t mean to. Though I can relate to your worries. Sometimes, I wonder if my mom approves of what I’ve been doing…”
She lowered her head. Her gaze was so downcast that Littlefoot couldn’t help stepping forward.
“No matter what you did, I’m sure she still loves you,” he said. “You’re helping me right now. I’m sure she’d be proud of that.”
“I guess.” Patty sighed. “Sorry. It has been so long since I spoke to her that I really begin to question what she was really like.”
“That’s okay. Sometimes I go through that too.” Littlefoot became thoughtful. “Maybe we can talk about her. Doing that with my grandparents and dad helps keep my memories of Mother fresh. Erm, that is, if you want to. I know this might be painful…”
“It’s okay. I like talking about her,” she smiled faintly. “She was…very kind. If I had a worry, she’d always have something soothing to say. Since Dad left before my birth, we had to rely on each other to survive. She would teach me how to talk with people in the herds we joined. If I like someone, I can get along with them fine but if they rub me the wrong way, I can’t help giving them the cold shoulder. That always annoyed her and she’d tried to get me to be polite. As you probably saw with that threehorn yesterday, it hasn’t been a success.”
Littlefoot chuckled. “We all noticed. Though I didn’t see why, he seemed nice enough.”
“People aren’t always as they seem.” Patty said. “Back to more pleasant people – Mom often told me to keep my less-than-friendly opinions to myself. I didn’t see why – if you didn’t get along with someone, you shouldn’t pretend otherwise. But I got better for her. She was my only friend in those travels, so I often checked on her health. She sometimes teased that she should be the one making a fuss over me but I think she liked it. We were so happy. I thought we would be together for many cold times to come.”
Patty fell into a long silence. Littlefoot stepped closer.
“Then the sharptooth came,” he said quietly.
She nodded faintly. “We’ve seen sharpteeth before, at a distance. We always managed to avoid them. But that time, one hid itself better. One second, we were walking in a canyon, with no sign of anyone around. The next, I heard a roar and a sailback sharptooth charged us from behind. I barely escaped getting my back bit off. My mother charged in to defend me. She whipped her tail with all her fury against the sailback. It was amazing. I had never seen her fight so hard.
“She kept the sailback at bay but it was in no mood to be driven back. I tried to go in and help but Mom said to stay back. The sailback claws started getting past her tail. There were scratches all over her neck and front. Despite her efforts, she was getting tired. She kept glancing around to make sure I didn’t get involved, since I kept trying to find a way to jump in. The sailback took advantage of this. On one of her looks, I saw it crouch and lash out with its mouth. Then…”
Patty’s voice wavered. Littlefoot didn’t need her to finish the sentence. He could almost see those long jaws snap in, hear the heartrending scream of someone dealt an injury there was no recovery from.
“She only had the strength to tell me to run, to live,” she continued. “I was so shocked at what I saw, I did run. Only when I found a cave far away did I realize what happened. I sneaked back as fast I dared. I tried to deny what I saw, but when I got there, it was night and…there wasn’t much left of her. Only then did it sink in – Mom would never come back. She was gone. I was alone in the world.
“I wandered around in a daze for many days. It didn’t occur to me to eat. I,” she averted her gaze, “nearly lost my hope to live. But then I found a herd and started eating again. I tried to live on as she said. I clung to her memories as best I could, with each action trying to think of what she would say. But it’s hard to get over the silence where her footsteps should be.”
Patty gazed into the middle distance. Littlefoot stared up, looking for a positive effect, trying to think of something to say.
“From what I heard, it sounds like your mom wouldn’t be mad at you,” he said. “If anything, she would be proud of the progress you’re making.”
She stirred hopefully. “You think?”
Littlefoot nodded. “She sounds very nice. Even if you made mistakes, I’m sure she would forgive you. She’s probably cheering you on from wherever she is. Though I get the struggle with the silence – it gets hard to remember what Mother sounded like. I wish it didn’t have to be this way.”
“Yes.” Patty murmured. “Is Mom I hear in my head still her? Or a voice I made up? Is it natural in the circle of life for parents to leave before their time and to struggle to keep their memories in your head? Maybe we’ll never know but if it is the circle of life…I despise it.”
Patty gazed off, angry and sad…and alone. Alone for so long. Littlefoot felt a swell of emotion. He wanted to say things would get better, but he didn’t know how much truth there was to that saying.
A few distant voices rose in, giving Littlefoot a guilty start. He turned to find the spikethumb leader gesticulating sharply at Grandpa and Grandma Longneck, who attempted to respond clearly, not standing with their usual assurance even when losing an argument. Littlefoot winced.
“I should have kept my mouth shut,” he muttered.
“What do you mean? Were you smart with her?” Patty had stirred to look at the three as well. “Don’t take it personally. She cares a lot about the herd, so when something goes wrong, she takes it out on the nearest authority figure.”
“Oh no. It’s more about…what I said to them. They were only trying to comfort me about Mr. Clubtail but when they talked about the circle of life,” Littlefoot averted his gaze, “I yelled at them for making me get used to bad things. Now they can’t deal with a simple argument.”
“Oh.” Patty’s expression cleared. “Well, it’s only natural for kids to snap under stress. It sounds like you’ve been under a lot of that with these ghosts.”
“But I can’t remember snapping at them like this before,” he sighed. “These ghosts have been too weird for us to deal with. Everyone’s tired. Still, things might’ve been better if I didn’t have that stupid sleep story.”
“Sleep story?”
“Several days back, I had a sleep story where I found my grandparents died in their sleep. I would have shrugged it off but it reminded me that my grandparents, well,” Littlefoot lowered his head “they won’t be around long. I try not to think about it but…it’s been hard.”
She listened sympathetically. “Do your grandparents know about this?”
“I told them two days ago. I didn’t want to bother them but after the sharptooth ghost nearly killed them, I couldn’t hide it any longer. I thought our talk settled it but then Mr. Clubtail happened and…” Littlefoot closed his eyes. “It’s just…I’m tired of people dying on me. I don’t like the circle of life but I don’t want to always argue with them about it. What – what do I do?”
He shook his head, a few tears trickling down. Littlefoot wiped them embarrassedly, but Patty watched with no judgement. If anything, she appeared to be searching for something soothing to say.
“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” she said. “It’s a wonder you’re as composed as you are now. I’m sure your grandparents don’t blame you for snapping. Though there’s one thing you could do that could help you make up with them.”
Drying his face, Littlefoot looked up. “What’s that?”
“Apologize, but agree to disagree.”
He stared. “What? But it’s because I disagreed with them that I hurt their feelings in the first place.”
“And if you pretend the disagreement doesn’t exist, it’ll go away?” When there was no response, Patty continued. “Just make it clear that the circle of life is upsetting to you. Since none of you are going to change your minds about it anytime soon, just put it aside. It’s normal for families to disagree – even Mom and I had to agree to disagree sometime to keep the peace. Your grandparents will go along with it. All they want is to make sure you’re happy.”
Littlefoot considered her proposal. With a killer on the loose, he didn’t want to distract his grandparents. He didn’t like fighting with them and debating the merits of the circle of life would only upset them all. If they could put it aside, they would be more at ease with one another. The more he thought about it, the more encouraged he felt. He began to smile.
“It sounds like a great idea,” he said. “I think I’ll try it. Thanks, Patty.”
“No problem.” Patty said. “As people with similar experiences, I thought I must do something to make life at least a bit easier for you.”
Littlefoot nodded, then paused. What she said made him bow his head in thought. He looked at her speculatively, remembering what he observed about her.
“Do you like anyone in the herd, Patty?” he asked. “Anyone you consider a friend?”
“Um, no.” Patty said. “I’m so busy traveling, going from herd to herd, that it’s hard to maintain friendships.” She seemed taken aback by the question. “Why do you ask?”
“Well, I was thinking.” Littlefoot averted his gaze. “After I lost Mother and got separated from my grandparents, I met other kids who were also alone. We decided to travel to the valley together. We didn’t get along at first and nearly broke up a few times but something about that experience kept us together. After we got to the valley, we’ve been inseparable ever since.”
Patty widened an eye, charmed. “Where is this going?”
“I’m just saying, those shared experiences made us friends. And since we both lost our mothers to sharpteeth…maybe we can be friends too.”
Patty blinked. “What? That’s – I didn’t see – but our ages are far apart. People with vastly different ages don’t usually become friends.”
“Age won’t be a problem.” Littlefoot chuckled. “Me and my friends have lots of old friends. Mr. Thicknose is among the oldest in the valley yet we hang out with him and consider him a friend.”
“That’s wonderful. But I’ve been wandering for so long – I might leave the valley with the herd soon.”
“I’ve made friends with travelers too. Just because they’re away doesn’t mean they still aren’t my friends. You need a friend, Patty, and I want to be it. Wherever you go, no matter how long you might be gone, we’ll always be connected. Count on it.”
For a second, Patty didn’t know what to say. Her eyes looked Littlefoot up and down, taking in his bright posture. Then she smiled.
“Thank you. It…looks like I have a friend after all.”
Littlefoot grinned. For the first time since this morning, he felt good about something in the world.
“So, uh,” Patty looked away, and laughed. “Now that pact has been made, now what? Is there something you want to do?”
Littlefoot smiled. “Well, there is one thing I want to learn.”
A few minutes later, Grandpa and Grandma Longneck watched the spikethumb leader stomp off. Sighing, they turned to check on Littlefoot. For a moment, they panicked when they didn’t see him under the tree. But they soon caught light giggles in the air. Turning, they found Patty gently demonstrating how to swing her tail and have her rear feet jump over it. They were encouraged as Littlefoot watched her, laughing as the rumbles shook him.
“Well, it’s good to see some smiling faces.” Grandpa Longneck said.
Littlefoot was crouching as though on the verge of swinging his tail like her, but at his grandfather’s voice, he looked up and hastily straightened. Patty turned and smiled as the grandparents approached.
“Hello, Patty.” Grandma Longneck greeted. “It seems you’ve found yourself entertaining our grandson again.”
“Don’t worry, I approached him first.” Patty said. “Littlefoot looked so sad leaning against that tree I couldn’t not reach out. We’ve just decided to lighten the mood by learning my tail trick he’s so interested in.”
“You should lighten your moods by eating, Grandpa, Grandma.” Littlefoot said. “C’mon, aren’t you starving?”
Grandpa and Grandma started. For a moment, they stared at Littlefoot nervously. Then they registered his words and threw their heads back with laughter.
“Oh, that’s right. We didn’t eat this morning.” Grandpa Longneck chuckled. “I – I can’t believe we forgot something so basic.”
“Then don’t deny yourselves the bounty around you.” Patty said. “Eat up.”
Shaking their heads, Grandpa and Grandma Longneck stepped to the tree Patty got treestars for Littlefoot earlier and began to have a meal. As they ripped leaves away and swallowed, a light came back into their eyes and their movements were exhausted with relief. Littlefoot joined them, occasionally eating from some of the falling treestars. In between pauses to eat, they turned and addressed Patty.
“I hope you weren’t too embarrassed with doing those tricks for Littlefoot.” Grandma Longneck said.
“Don’t worry, I’ve rarely cared about how others might perceive my games.” Patty replied. “Even if it was embarrassing, it was worth it to make Littlefoot happy.”
“Is that so?” Grandpa Longneck murmured, smiling around his next bite of leaves. “Then we thank you for going out of your way to make our grandson smile.”
“There needs to be more smiles.” Patty said. “I saw you talking with our herd leader. Sorry about her. She’s the type who believes harsh times need harsh words to get things done.”
“Oh, we can bear it.” Grandpa Longneck replied, swallowing. “It is her right to be worried.”
“Maybe she would not have taken the situation well no matter what we said but it would have been better if we confronted her with full bellies.” Grandma Longneck said. “We haven’t been on the top of our game. I mean, it took us a bit to remember to send escorts with Littlefoot’s friends when there could be a killer on the loose.”
“You just dealt with the death of a valley member.” Patty said. “That would throw anybody off.”
“That is true but still…” Grandpa Longneck sighed. “She was rather angry we didn’t know if this was a murder or not. I admit, we’re rather frustrated everyone is assuming that’s the case. It hasn’t really been confirmed yet, so if it’s otherwise, it’s going to be hard to tamp the rumors down. Oh, if only Verter didn’t stir such a scene for his theory.”
Patty frowned. “What did he do?”
“He was the one who introduced the idea that Mr. Clubtail was murdered. He was using it to push rather hard to train Cera and Chomper.” Grandma Longneck sighed. “There are always some who would take advantage of a crises situation.”
“That is true.” Grandpa Longneck said. “Still, he is Mr. Threehorn and Tria’s friend. Maybe some good can come out of making sure those two learn to defend their friends.”
“Though we weren’t so good with quelling rumors and figuring out the facts of this death.” Grandma Longneck said. “I can see why she scolded us. As the more prominent members of the valley, we do have a certain responsibility to contribute.”
“Which brings us to our current situation.” Grandpa Longneck said. “In order to calm the valley and keep people safe, we need to determine if this is a murder and track the killer down if that’s the case. We’ll join Mr. Thicknose and those working with him to help make sure the investigation goes smoothly. This will be grim and time consuming. Someone else will have to look after our grandson, so if you don’t mind…”
Littlefoot, listening to the conversation, felt his heart sink. Patty looked surprised. Considering the proposal, she smiled.
“I’d be more than happy to watch over Littlefoot,” she said. “He’s a good kid. It’d be a treat.”
“G-great.” Littlefoot tried to smile. “I’m thankful for this, Patty, really. But…” He turned to his grandparents. “Are you going to be safe? If you’re looking for this killer, well…if you find him you might get hurt. What if he thinks you’re getting closer and-”
“We’ll take all the precautions we can, Littlefoot.” Grandma Longneck brought her head close. “You’ve seen that we can defend ourselves. Don’t worry.”
“I know, it’s just…” Littlefoot lowered his gaze. ”You know my worries.”
“Yes.” Grandpa Longneck closed his eyes briefly. “We can’t guarantee there won’t be any risks but we assure you we won’t be reckless.”
“I – yeah. This killer does need to be found.”
But still, his silence was nervous. Hastily, Grandma Longneck jerked her head to his right.
“Anyway, this isn’t all bad,” she said. “You’ll get to with Patty for the most of the day. Isn’t that what you want?”
Littlefoot looked at Patty, who stood there and smiled welcomingly. After a moment, he stood straighter and smiled.
“Yeah…” Then with more energy. “Yeah! I wish things were better but…Thanks, Patty. I’ll try not to be too hard. We’ll have fun, you’ll see”
Patty chuckled. “At least I won’t be bored. Thanks for bringing some light into my life.”
Grandpa and Grandma Longneck smiled with relief. Taking some final bites from the tree, they looked at the bright circle’s position.
“Will you be able to start now?” Grandma Longneck asked.
“I don’t have much to do anyway.” Patty replied. “Even if I did, making sure your son’s safe would be the priority.”
“We appreciate your generosity.” Grandpa Longneck said. “Littlefoot, behave with Patty. Explore the valley if you wish but stay away from high places and be in view of others. This investigation might hold us up but Grandma and I will try to return by nightfall. Maybe by then we’ll know a bit more of what happened.”
“Good luck.” Littlefoot said. “Stay safe. And – remember to eat!”
Grandma Longneck chuckled. “What would we do without you looking after our best interests? See you tonight.”
There were exchanges of nods and tail waves before Grandpa and Grandma Longneck departed. Littlefoot watched them disappear in the distance, and watched some more. Feeling a gentle touch on his back, he turned to Patty’s reassuring smile.
“Don’t worry,” she said. “They seem wise. I’m sure they’ll be safe.”
“Yeah…” Littlefoot relaxed and returned the smile. “So, can you show me how you did those jumps again? I still can’t see how your feet clear the tail.”
“It depends on how you swing it. If you angle it like this, then…”
Littlefoot watched as Patty resumed demonstrating the trick, the earth rumbling each time her rear feet landed on the ground. He stared in concentration, standing a bit stiffly, only for a rumble to make him fall to his side. That was embarrassing but he and Patty laughed it off. Making an embarrassment of himself was preferable to reflecting on the day’s events. Right now, he was content to stand and try to memorize the trick of a new friend he was happy to be with.
--
“…and um, that why the killer a relative.” Petrie said. “Did me get that right?”
Don sighed. “Do you know anything about Mr. Clubtail’s relatives that makes you think one might hold a grudge against him?”
“Um, no.” Petrie admitted. “Me think me heard he have cousin who have child.”
“You would need to know more than that.” Don said. “What are their personalities, feelings, habits? What have they said in the past few days? Without any of that, you can’t build a good argument that can find and actually corner the killer. Under that scenario, how would you gather evidence to make your argument?”
Frowning, Petrie crossed his arms and thought again. They were at his nest. The advantage of his new home was that his land walker friends could visit without the awkwardness of Petrie having to fly back and forth to be with them. They could sit with his siblings among the twigs and shade or in the light where they could sunbathe. Petrie was happy with the arrangement. He, Ruby, and Don had currently squeezed themselves to the side of the nest’s rocky shelter, where there was just enough room for them to sit and face each other while going through the hypothetical scenarios that were supposed to challenge their thinking skills.
Mama Flyer appeared at their side. “It’s nearly lunchtime. Anyone want berries?”
“Oh yes, please.” Ruby said.
“Me too.” Petrie said distractedly. “Eating is good for thinking.”
Mama Flyer smiled and deposited a few red orbs into each of their hands. Hesitating, she turned to the third person present.
“Do you want anything, Don?”
“No thank you.” Don gave a dismissive wave. “Feed the rest of your brood. Maybe it’ll quiet their chatter.”
Mama Flyer’s beak tightened but she merely gave Petrie and Ruby a confused look before disappearing around the corner. There was the sound of shuffling and a few raised voices as she distributed food but Petrie’s siblings weren’t as talkative as he was used to. The news of Mr. Clubtail’s murder had shocked the family and they didn’t know how to carry on with the usual boasts and squabbly anecdotes that made the nest a lively home. Petrie snacked on his berry, hoping its nutrients might stir his brain with good ideas.
“Me would go and ask relatives about Mr. Clubtail.” Petrie said finally. “Learn about them with talking. At least they might know where he was last night, right?”
“Good.” Don said. “But you would have to do more than ask questions. You would need to examine how they move, their tone of voice, how they meet your eye. You can’t only trust their word.”
“Why not?”
“Because they mightn’t tell the truth or the whole truth.” Ruby said. “Sometimes people hide things because they are guilty – but sometimes they hide things because they want privacy.”
“Exactly.” Don said. “Mr. Clubtail’s relatives would hesitate to reveal anything to a flyer youth they barely know. They might say anything to be left in peace and hey would be especially wary now since there is the risk his ghost might come back and complicate their grief.”
Petrie shuddered. “That would be spooky. Though…maybe that could help? We could ask him who killer is.”
“That is dubious. Depending on what happened to him, he mightn’t have gotten a good look at the killer.” Don rubbed his beak, troubled. “Though it isn’t a path we should dismiss.”
“Hey, we can’t do that.” Ruby said, sitting up with distress. “That would be cruel. Mr. Clubtail wasn’t a cruel person, so if he comes back as a ghost, we should leave him in peace.”
“Even if it might be cruel, does it outweigh the benefit of making sure other lives are spared from this killer?” Don asked. Ruby could only look down. He turned to Petrie. “But we can’t rely on the unpredictability of a ghost showing up. We must find clues in the living, who are already unreliable. Which means, Petrie, you’d have to watch closely for signs any of Mr. Clubtail’s family might be evading the truth. So what would you do?”
“Oh, um.” Petrie said, thrown by the switch in topic. “Me think me would speak to saddest relative and they tell the truth. If they sad, they would want to know what happened.”
Don narrowed his eyes. “How would you be sure the saddest isn’t a good actor? Even if they are genuine, they still might not tell you everything. If the killer is a relative, how are you going to make the others be honest with you in a way that would disincline them from innocently informing him of what you did?”
“Um…me would be nice and tell them not to talk to other relatives?”
“So you would just trust them and not watch the others you interview closely in case they don’t keep their word?”
“…yes? No? Maybe?”
“That is too trusting. That naiveté would endanger you if you actually underwent that scenario. You need to watch people’s body language and tone closely to spot if they are lying and keep yourself composed to make sure they aren’t aware you know they’re lying.”
“But me not good at telling when people are lying!” Petrie protested. “Me try to see their faces and hear how they speak but no matter what, me can’t notice those things. Oh, this all so hard. Maybe me can’t do it after all.”
Petrie hung his head. Don’s hard gaze remained on him for several moments before he rubbed his temples.
“Look,” Don said, “I could be doing anything right now, but instead I’m sitting with two children trying to teach them wisdoms. I want to be sure I’m not wasting my time. I know these lessons might be difficult, so I suggest finding a motivation to keep you committed. When dealing with a challenging task, there’s nothing like a good motivation to pull you through. I hope you can find one that can be good enough”
“O-okay.” Petrie looked down. “Me will try.”
He felt Ruby touch his back soothingly. Don turned to her.
“Continuing on with our discussion about suspects,” he said, “you believe only a large dinosaur must have pushed him off. Why?”
“Right.” Ruby took a deep breath. “A small dinosaur could do this if clever enough but from the marks you heard were on him, it seems only a dinosaur around a clubtail’s size would have the strength to push a clubtail off a cliff and drag him to the sweet bubble patch. There would need to be a lot of small dinosaurs to do that and involving a lot of people would be too risky for keeping the secret.”
“Small dinosaurs are sneaky, so it’s possible.” Don mused, making Ruby frown. “But I agree. I would suggest looking at the more aggressive kinds for suspects, like other clubtails.”
“Clubtails are aggressive?” she asked. “I don’t know. The clubtails I know didn’t display much aggression.”
“Since clubtails use their clubbed tails for combat, they are aggressive. It’s merely common knowledge.”
“Was this common knowledge gained now, or before dinosaurs integrated, when dinosaurs didn’t know much about each other?”
“This was gleamed from observation and common sense.” Don sent her a cool look. “I don’t see how-”
“Dear, there you are!”
A male voice cut into the discussion. Mama Flyer walked into view as a crested flyer rapidly flew toward them. He stirred up dust in his landing, looking around with wide eyes.
“I heard about what happened to the clubtail.” The male flyer, Petrie’s father, continued. “Are you all okay?”
“We’re fine.” Mama Flyer replied. “None of us were involved. We’re only shaken, that’s all”
“As is the rest of the valley.” Papa Flyer’s eyes strayed behind her. “Good, you have all the kids here. Wait, where’s Petrie?”
His gaze slide to the right of the nest and landed on Petrie. Papa Flyer’s face relaxed with relief but it turned to confusion when he saw Ruby next to his son. As he saw the elderly flyer beside them, he frowned.
“Isn’t that Don? What’s he doing here?”
“Petrie and Ruby brought him along to help them guess what happened to Mr. Clubtail.” Mama Flyer answered. “Since they’re talking quietly, I allowed it.”
Papa Flyer turned to her with narrowed eyes. “You’re allowing them to talk about the murder?”
“Don’t worry, they only want to know what to look out for so they could notify an adult and prevent this from happening again,” she said. “They said they won’t get involved with anything.”
“Hmm, like they’ve said before.” He glanced at her, displeased. “I don’t see why you’d allow this. Our son and his friends get involved in enough weirdness.”
Mama Flyer bristled. “Now, dear-”
“To even allow that crazy old flyer near our home-”
“I was as surprised to see him as you are but if Petrie and Ruby want his company, who am I to judge?”
“Talk about preventing tragedies isn’t normal.”
“I’m not going to question how our son and his friend grieve. They knew Mr. Clubtail, they need space to process this.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. But it concerns me our boy has any connection at all to this mess and he is already connected to one too many with those friends of his.”
“I’m also concerned about what he and friends get up to but I’m doing my best to tamp that down, not control his-” Mama Flyer closed her eyes and breathed deeply. “Look, can we not talk about this now? Especially with…Mr. Clubtail.”
Papa Flyer sighed. “Yes. Today, we should be a center of normalcy for our children.”
Attempting to compose himself, he smiled and joined Mama Flyer into walking to the nest. Don glanced around, irritated.
“As I was saying before I was interrupted,” he said. “Well…it doesn’t sound like I’m wanted here anyway. Should I even bother to continue the discussion?”
“Continue discussion.” Petrie said suddenly. “Let just…continue talking.”
“Are you sure?” Ruby asked.
“Yes.” Petrie was staring at where his parents stood. “Me – me find one motivation to get me through this.”
Ruby smiled. Don watched Petrie. For a moment, his lips twitched up but no one noticed. He turned back to her.
“Back to the topic of suspects,” Don said, “why do you have such issue with my knowledge of aggressive dinosaurs?”
Ruby started, hastily getting back to her train of thought. “The – the reason I have an issue with it is that I was told the same things too but being in the valley showed me things were different from what I was told. Do you actually know any clubtails?”
“Why should I have to talk with aggressive dinosaurs? Observation is enough to know their ways.”
“But even close observation doesn’t give you the complete truth of who they are. When I engaged with clubtails and threehorns and domeheads, I got a better idea of what their ways are. There are many who aren’t aggressive or who have changed and don’t practice some of their worst practices anymore. I’m not saying the killer couldn’t be one of them but relying on those incomplete judgements would only mislead us in an investigation.”
Don sighed. “I thought you wanted to catch this killer. Why do you have so much interest in denying my truth?”
Ruby averted her gaze. “I’m just interested in how those who are different work. I’ve seen some other kinds but I hadn’t really talked with many until I moved to the Great Valley. Being able to talk with so many kinds is one of the amazing things about this place.”
“Ah, that’s right.” Don rubbed his chin, eyes on her. “Everyone knows of you and the sharptooth youth’s story. This would be a different environment for your kind. No wonder you are so curious.”
Ruby hesitated. “It isn’t just curiosity.”
Don widened an eye. “Oh?”
Ruby looked down. She gave Don a distrustful look, fiddling with her hands, but she gathered the nerve to speak.
“Say – say you find where the solution to a problem is,” she said. “The people who care for you say to take your time to find an answer but they expect you to find one eventually. But there are many places in that place to find it. You try a few but they don’t work out, so you put off working out the others. But then other things get your attention and… ”
“You never finds the solution to the problem.” Don finished. “It seems this person realizes their error. Why don’t they solve it now?”
“That person tries. But you get only more confused. You discover you don’t have the experience to see the details and know how to put them together. It’s frustrating, since people count on you to solve the problem but you need time to know how to solve problems in the first place.”
Petrie glanced between her and Don, trying to follow along but still confused. Don examined her.
“That is quite a quandary the hypothetical person is in,” he said finally
Ruby nodded distantly. “It is.”
Don held his chin as he stared away. “This problem – it doesn’t have anything to do with Red Claw, does it?”
Ruby’s head jerked up. Petrie gave a yelp.
“Red Claw?” he said. “O-oh.”
“How did you know?” Ruby then sighed. “Wait, you said our story is common knowledge.”
“I only made the logical connection his presence in your former home is related to the scenario you detailed out.” Don said.
She hesitated again but eventually blew out a breath.
“You’re right,” she admitted. “Our parents did think the Great Valley and Chomper’s friends could be a solution to the Red Claw problem. But when I tried to find that solution – I realized the problem was too big for me. I could feel the solution for some big problems but don’t always know how I got there. I tried to think about it more but with my new friends and new life in the valley…”
Don sighed. “There is a reason children are not trusted with such a heavy responsibility. The youth do not have the maturity deal with long-term tasks. Was it wise for your parents to send you here for such a task?”
“They didn’t force me. But…”
Ruby looked down again. Petrie looked between her and Don.
“Hey, that not fair!” he said. “Ruby plenty wise. She really good at learning and helping others. If anyone can do it, she can.”
Don nodded faintly. “You do give the impression you feel shamed enough to make up for your lapse. So that is the reason you want to listen to my wisdoms.”
“Maybe.” Ruby sent him a dubious look. “I don’t think your wisdoms are all good but I’ve seen enough glimmers in those wisdoms that I think they might be helpful. I want to learn how to watch out for details and put them together in the right ways. I need to, so I can be of help to my friends and family. If I don’t, I might make mistakes that might hurt them.”
“Hmm.” Though displeased by her criticisms, Don wore a thinking expression. “For Wing Father’s sake, this is a heavier responsibility than I anticipated.” He raised his gaze “Will that motivation be enough to get you through this process?”
Ruby looked up, more determined. “As long as this process is composed of more than inaccurate stereotypes.”
Don snorted. “I guess I’ll have to demonstrate the greater breadth of my knowledge. Very well.”
“Go on,” she said. “Give us your best shot.”
Petrie nodded. “Me think me ready to listen too.”
Don rose, arms becoming animated. “If you want to really find out what’s special about your friends or the valley, keep an eye out for anything that seems unique to them. Do your friends, for instance, speak in ways that are different to how those you knew speak? Does the valley influence people here to behave differently, discuss different topics?” He met her eye. “If you constantly study those elements, you might find the answer to your question.”
“That’s,” Ruby touched the tip of her mouth, “actually not bad advice. I do notice interesting or helpful things without looking for them in our adventures. I suppose I need to be more active in noticing them.”
Don nodded, satisfied. “It is through constant observation, putting away details, and interrogating them that you come to an answer.”
“Wow.” Petrie said. “You must know lots of what people do with all that watching and thinking.”
Don’s gaze turned skyward. “Well, keeping a flock in order was busy work. You have to always be on alert to make sure no one is up to mischief.”
Ruby looked at him, disbelieving. “You were a flock leader?”
“I was merely the advisor. I rarely spoke outside that role but when I did, I backed my words up with facts. It was useful when others got themselves into funny business they didn’t understand. More than one life has been saved because of me.”
“Ooh.” Petrie said, impressed. “You sounded really important.”
Don nodded with some satisfaction “Even if some didn’t like me, at least they respected my skills. When there were questions about how to get to a destination, they would ask me which wind currents to take. When we needed a safe place to rest, I pointed out caves sheltered from the elements, or kinds that were safe to sit nearby. For so many cold times, they had trusted my judgement. I had a place in the flock, one that I deserved.”
For a moment, Don sat straight, pride radiating from every pore. Then he wilted.
“Then – well, you two are old enough to remember what happened: the climate changed and the herds intermixed. Because of that, my flock began to think my knowledge was out of date. When I made a few mistakes, they began to disrespect me. After we settled into the valley, some became especially unruly. When I rightly slapped some miscreants into their place, the flock thought it was beyond the pale and indicated I was no longer welcome among them. All that work, and they throw me away like yesterday’s shiny rock. I ended up alone. No one will listen to me anymore.”
Don glared at the Great Wall mountains. Petrie watched with sympathy. Ruby could understand why. She heard many stories from her parents about those who fell out of their role in a group through age or circumstance and she felt for them. Nevertheless, she saw some holes in Don’s story.
“That sounds like a hard experience,” she said delicately. “I can understand why you take it so hard.”
“Yes. It was a rude awakening to see the true idiocy of-” Don stopped and glared. “There is a ‘but’ coming.”
“I don’t mean to be insensitive but I wonder if…” Ruby hesitated. “Did you try to adapt to the changes that came around?”
“Just because the world changes, it doesn’t mean elder wisdom becomes no longer accurate.” Don said loftily. “You’re not being very respectful if you question everything an elder says.”
“Being respectful doesn’t mean being unquestioning,” she retorted. “I only mean – when you advise your flock to use a wind current that’s no longer there, when the shelter you point to have crumpled due to the weather change, when ‘unapproachable’ dinosaurs start becoming approachable…those wisdoms aren’t accurate anymore and some might have never been accurate. Maybe if you adapted and added to your knowledge, your standing mightn’t have changed.”
Don stared hard at her. She attempted to meet his gaze calmly, reminding herself this was nothing compared to the sharpteeth she stared down. He looked away.
“Why should I have to change?” he muttered. “I’ve worked so long to get that position. Why should I have to start over again and again just to make sure some unworthy upstart doesn’t take my place?”
“There’s nothing we can do about time,” she said. “But you still have time to learn more. My parents told me if you have fun learning, you’ll more likely remember what you learned. Mr. Thicknose is an example of that: he’s among the oldest in the valley yet is still learning and has fun doing so. If you work at it and come to enjoy learning again, you might regain your previous standing.”
Don frowned but then a thoughtful look came in. Left and right, left and right, that hand went under his beak as, for a moment, hope seemed to light in his eyes. Then he stopped and lowered his hand.
“No. They wouldn’t accept me back,” he said. “They didn’t even show proper gratefulness for saving one of them several night circle cycles back. Oh, if only time didn’t rob you of what you deserve…”
Don trailed off. Petrie and Ruby were confused but then he turned to them and for a moment, pity almost entered his expression, as though he felt sorry for these two children who have yet to experience the kind of pain many elders go through…
Then he shook himself and all that old severity came back.
“We have gotten far off topic. Ruby, your arguments are on the right track with the culprit but it still needs work. You and Petrie will need far more evidence to figure out any mystery, never mind who this killer is.”
Ruby was startled by this switch in attitude, her mind struggling to shift gears. She bristled at the critiques but sighed.
“There is a point there. We can’t point to any dinosaur with only guesses.”
“Exactly.” Don said, satisfied. “What should you be on the lookout for?”
“Anyone who’s sleepy or is sleeping. Pulling a clubtail across the valley would be exhausting.”
“There are those who are good at covering up their exhaustion.”
“Would a normal relative be good at not looking tired?”
“Murders aren’t always personal.” Don said, raising a finger. “They could be a means for other ends.”
Ruby blinked before shaking her head. “We don’t have evidence for that either. Even so, it’s still personal if-”
Ruby and Don continued arguing. Petrie watched. Strangely, Ruby and Don appeared to be energized by the argument. Petrie was a bit lost but supposed it was sort of like how his friends bickered with Cera. Really, he was amazed Ruby could keep up with Don. Their talk was almost on another level. Still, Petrie tried to keep up. He chimed in with his own ideas whenever he could, he and Ruby determined to become smart enough to keep their loved ones safe.
Next time…
Part 3
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6/27 Note: So yeah, I've been editing down these four chapters so much, I realized they could be combined into three. So here's a additional ten page section added to this chapter. Of course, this throws off my release schedule. I won't get part three up by Sunday. At worst, it would have to be the 7/8 Sunday at the latest but to compensate for this change, if I finish part three early, I'll post it at any day before 7/8. Hope this new material is satisfying enough to tide you enough until then!
