...
Closer and closer the space rocks came, heralding nothing but imminent destruction. By now, the large rock was surrounded by a veritable swarm of smaller pieces, all following the same path. The small blue planet was now in sight, and still they sped on, sightless, unfeeling, with the power to cause damage no Sharptooth or Earthshake could ever rival.
…
On his perch, Fyn stared down into the Valley below, watching as the last of the dinosaurs went back to their nests to sleep. It felt... grown-up, he decided, watching everyone go about their lives, and with that feeling came an intense sense of responsibility. It was kind of scary, but invigorating, too. Fyn swept his eyes among the lush forests, sweeping hills, rolling plains, and clear blue water. Then something caught his eye: another dinosaur, still awake and sitting by the lake. Fyn took a closer look. It was his father! From his vantage point, Fyn saw the great Longneck turn to look in his direction and felt a surge of joy. He’d acknowledged him! From all the way down in the Valley! Fyn beamed. He truly had the best dad around. He tried thinking about how hard it must have been for Labon to perform Starfall, and gave up. Fyn could never have imagined yelling at his own child, if he’d ever decided to have children.
“Which I won’t,” he thought with the utmost certainty. He liked being around his friends, and had fond memories of them as children, but actually having to raise Young Ones? Absolutely not. They were too much of a hassle. Plus, he’d have to have a mate, and that was completely out of the question. Females, he’d decided from having been around Salde and Rya, just seemed to get stranger as they got older. He wanted a life of adventure, and a mate would only slow him down.
Fyn turned his attention back to the lakeside. Labon was still there. Fyn wondered briefly if the herd leader was required to sit vigil, but dismissed the idea. Knowing his father, he was probably simply staying up with his son, as encouragement. Fyn decided to get comfortable. After all, tonight had barely started, and it looked to be long.
…
Littlefoot returned late to his nest with his grandparents. In celebration of his completion of Starfall, they had taken him to the best trees in the Great Valley, where Littlefoot had gorged himself on a delicious meal and met the rest of his friends. There, they’d talked, laughed, played, ate, and had fun. The entire time, however, he never felt quite right. He really wanted Fyn to be with him, but until morning, his friend would be sitting awake on one of the highest peaks in the Great Valley. Even now, as he was settling down and preparing for sleep, the thought troubled him.
“Grandma, Grandpa?” Littlefoot asked as he lay down in his nest.
“Yes, Littlefoot?” his grandmother answered.
“Is something the matter?” asked his grandfather.
“Well, sort of.”
“Go on,” said his grandmother.
“Well, I got to celebrate right after Starfall, but Fyn’s still up on the Great Wall by himself. I feel terrible for getting to do all of these great things while he’s still not done.”
“Well,” said Grandpa Longneck, “Fyn’s a Fin-Neck, and as Starfall is their custom, there’s an additional act that must be completed. Longnecks like us don’t go through Starfall, with the exception of you. I’m sure it must feel amazing to be the first of your kind to participate in Starfall.”
“It is, I guess,” Littlefoot said, frowning, “but I still don’t feel right about it.”
“Then listen to me, Littlefoot,” said Grandma Longneck, “Starfall is over for you. What you do now is your choice.”
“Are you saying I should sit vigil, too?”
“All I’m saying is that you are free to decide what to do,” Grandma Longneck said, evasively.
Littlefoot nodded. “Thanks. Good night Grandma, good night, Grandpa.”
“Good night, Littlefoot,” they said together. Then the pair of old Longnecks closed their eyes and settled down for sleep. When Littlefoot was convinced they were, in fact, asleep, he made his move and began to slip away, confident in his secrecy. If he got in trouble tomorrow for what he was about to do, he reasoned, he’d explain his actions thoroughly, but he couldn’t back out now. This simply had to be done.
Back in the nest, both old Longnecks cracked their eyes open, watching as Littlefoot left.
“I knew he’d do it,” Grandma Longneck whispered.
Her mate nodded, “that’s our Grandson, someone we can always count on to do the right thing.”
And with that, the two of them fell contentedly asleep.
…
Still sitting and watching, Fyn was now fully awake. His leg had cramped miserably when he’d started nodding off due to the strenuous exercise he’d undergone earlier. Now he was fully awake, and watching over his sore leg. Still, he gazed over the Valley. There certainly wasn’t anything else to do.
At that moment, a movement caught his eye over near Littlefoot’s nest. Fyn was instantly alert. Was it an Egg Stealer perhaps? Maybe just a visitor? Or perhaps something much worse? Fyn had heard stories about Sharpteeth coming into the Valley. In fact, he’d seen it happen before. He’d actually made friends with one once: a Twobreed called Terra, so he knew it was definitely possible. Although it wasn’t likely, if a Sharptooth did happen to be over by Littlefoot’s nest...
Then the stranger revealed himself and Fyn breathed a sigh of relief and relaxed. The dinosaur at Littlefoot’s nest was none other than Littlefoot himself. Fyn watched with curiosity as the Longneck below snuck out of the trees and began to head for the opposite side of the Great Wall. What was he doing? Then Fyn saw him begin to climb the wall, heading for a somewhat smaller peak, and it dawned on him: Littlefoot was going to sit vigil with him! Now Fyn was truly excited. First, his father, and now his best friend. What an excellent night this was turning out to be! He watched Littlefoot’s progress. After all, he had nothing but time. After a while, Littlefoot had finally made it to the top of his peak, and sat down. He called out, his Longneck’s cry almost mournful, echoing across the Valley and reaching the ears of Fyn. When the Fin-Neck heard him, he reared up his head and answered back. Then came the biggest surprise of all. From down below in the Valley, Labon answered both of them. Fyn felt the moment was truly surreal: the trio which had started Starfall together would now finish it together, for better or worse, although Fyn truly hoped “worse” was not an option.
Unfortunately, as always, nature had other plans.
…
Littlefoot didn’t know how long he’d been sitting up on his peak for, but he imagined it must be close to morning by now. The sky was still dark, but there was an extremely faint sliver of blue on the horizon. The Bright Circle still wouldn’t rise for quite some time, he knew, but at least the night was more than halfway over. Just a little while longer... Littlefoot lay down on his side, desperately hoping something would happen. Things up here were getting quite boring, he’d decided. Still, he was happy knowing that he was supporting his friend, and happier still that Labon had decided to stay awake and support both of them. There was something else that made him feel good as well, though. For perhaps the first time, tonight, he truly felt mature. That, perhaps, was what kept him up here and awake more than anything else.
…
Ripping across the upper bounds of the atmosphere, the space rocks were beginning their final and lethal descent. As they fell, they began to burn, giving off an intense orange-white glow and a trail of smoke. The largest rock was beginning to crack, straining under the immense pressure. It was this rock, lagging behind the others, which was to truly be the final blow in the attack that was about to occur upon the unsuspecting Valley. Slowly, the rocks fell, accelerating and burning all the way. The time had come.
…
Fyn gazed into the night sky, staring at the stars above. Tonight, they were all very clear, and he was amusing himself by trying to do something his grandfather had once taught him: finding shapes in the stars. Fyn had never been good at it. All he could see was shapeless blobs formed by connecting the little points of light, not the many creatures his grandfather saw, but it was still fun to try. As he was trying to see if a particular group of stars looked more like a Sharptooth or a Hopper, something strange caught his eye, something in the sky, in fact. Fyn had just seen it, but now he’d lost it.
“Oh well,” he reasoned, “probably just me not getting enough sleep.”
Then the strange... thing caught his eye again. Fyn looked up once more. Now he could see it perfectly. It was a glow, orange, like himself, that had suddenly appeared amidst the other stars.
“Is that a star?” he whispered to himself, trying harder to see the object.
“No, it couldn’t be,” he answered himself, still whispering, “star’s don’t just appear. That’s something else.”
“Suddenly appearing” wasn’t the only strange thing going on with the object now, Fyn noticed. Now, it seemed to be growing, getting larger each moment. In fact, Fyn could clearly see it now. It was an orange, burning ball, and it appeared to be coming closer. Littlefoot had told him about these. They were called Flying Rocks. He said they often streaked by overhead, but were never dangerous, just mysterious and fun to watch. The sight, truth be told, had begun to make Fyn nervous, but now with Littlefoot’s words in his mind, he was feeling better. The Flying Rock wouldn’t touch them, and he’d even get a good show out of it. He settled back to watch. The rock grew bigger still, until it was close enough for Fyn to decide it was about as big as he was. Just as he came to his conclusion, the rock soared by with a terrible, whistling scream. Fyn felt the rush of air as it passed, trailing smoke, and watched in disbelief at what happened next.
Instead of simply “flying by” as all other Flying Rocks had done in the past, this rock did something different. It came in low, and without warning, smashed into the Great Wall, near the Smoking Mountain with a tremendous crashing noise, followed by a burst of light. Whoever had decided that Flying Rocks were safe was wrong, Fyn decided. At least, he thought, it had been the only one. Fyn turned back to the sky, and his jaw dropped suddenly at the sight before him: not one, but dozens, maybe hundreds of small orange spots filled the sky.
And they were all headed straight for the Great Valley.
…
Labon had watched in horror as the first Flying Rock impacted the Great Wall. Now, he turned his gaze back to see the rest of the danger.
“Oh no,” he breathed, and instantly stood up and took off running for his mate and daughters. The Valley had to be warned.
…
Littlefoot, too, saw the action, and was instantly on his feet. He was the first to see the next wave of flying rocks coming in. Immediately, he began to run back down to the Valley, to try to warn the others. If the rest of the Flying Rocks he saw could only do a fraction of the damage the first had caused, everyone would need to get to a safe spot, and fast. As he hit the Valley floor, he began running and yelling “Flying Rocks, everyone! Wake up! Get your families to safety!” As he passed dinosaurs, they began to stand up, angry at having been woken up at such an inconvenient time. However, most soon saw the approaching trouble and understood the gravity of the situation. They, too, began to assist Littlefoot, waking up whoever they could.
By now, Littlefoot had almost reached the lake. He could see Fyn on the other side, rousing families and trying to push them to safety. Littlefoot heard a flapping noise by his head and looked up to see Petrie.
“Petrie!” he said, “what are you doing here?”
“Asking you what going on!” the Flyer answered. Then the second Flying Rock screamed over and crashed into some nearby trees. The blast was deafening, and startled Petrie into almost falling to the ground.
“Flying Rocks?” he said to no one in particular, “I thought they only fly over Great Valley, not into it!”
“Well tonight, they do,” Littlefoot said, “get the gang and tell them to wake up whoever they can. We need to get underneath something for safety!”
“Okay!” Petrie said, scooting away into the sky.
“Be careful!” Littlefoot called after him. Petrie nodded and waved his wings, to show he understood. Then he was gone.
Now, Flying Rocks of all sizes were impacting the Valley like a nightmarish rain. The bombardment was shaking the ground, and the sounds were ear-shattering. Littlefoot gritted his teeth. Now was the time to focus. He continued running, trying to avoid where it seemed the Flying Rocks would hit. Things were about to get dangerous and busy, just the sort of environments Littlefoot thrived in.
…
Fyn raced through the panicking dinosaurs, telling them all to head for shelter, all the while heading for home. He hoped beyond hope that his family was safe. A small Flying Rock impacted the ground in front of him, throwing a dense cloud of dirt and debris into Fyn’s face. He coughed and shook his head, trying to clear his eyes of the dust that was now trapped in them. He blinked a few times, then continued onwards. His eyes were still burning, but at least he could see. He was glad to note that, despite the chaos, everyone was heading for the Great Wall, which held an abundance of caves. Right now, a cave was probably the safest place to be. Fyn dodged the falling shards of rock, all the while being pelted by debris, some of it still hot, from all sides. The “storm” of falling rock had intensified, and now being out in the open was becoming risky. Fyn could see the small cluster of trees that marked his home. He could even see the tree where he’d eaten his last breakfast before Starfall.
“Starfall,” he thought to himself, a notion suddenly occurring to him, “how ironic.”
He dashed for the trees as fast as he could go, but he wasn’t fast enough. A massive Flying Rock, as big or slightly bigger than a fully-grown Longneck plowed into the midst of where Fyn knew his nest was. The resulting explosion tore up every tree nearby and knocked Fyn back with a loud roar. Fyn regained his footing and senses and looked at the burning crater where his home had once been.
“No!” he screamed, running towards the site of destruction, “Mom, Dad, Salde, Rya, someone answer me!”
“Fyn!” he heard a voice cry from a distance. Fyn looked for the sound, then almost broke down in relief. It was his family, safely away from the devastation and heading for the wall. Labon was not among them.
“Come on, let’s go!” Salde shrieked.
“Wait!” Fyn yelled, “where’s Dad?”
“He’s out doing what you were just doing,” Keva answered, “helping others to safety.”
“Then I’ve got to help him,” Fyn said, “get to safety!”
Keva, hearing the adult-like intensity in her son’s voice, complied. She knew what her son had been through that day, and scared as she was of what might happen, knew her son would handle the situation well.
Fyn raced back towards the lake, where his father had last been. The ground was now cratered, and the sky was filled with the terrible shrieks of Flying Rocks. On top of it all, parts of the Valley were now burning. It was hard to see anything amongst all of the smoke, explosions, and flying debris, but Fyn thought he saw a slight movement ahead. There was only one dinosaur who would still be out here: his father. Fyn ran towards the sight, and called out.
“Dad, Dad, are you there?” Another falling rock impacted nearby, throwing Fyn off balance. When the smoke and dust cleared, he stood up and tried again. He could now see clearly ahead. His father was in front of him.
“Come on, Dad!” Fyn yelled, “everyone’s safe! Let’s get back to the family!”
“Fyn!” Labon yelled back, “don’t stand in one place! It’s dangerous!”
Fyn, however, did not hear him over the loud crashes. “What did you say!”
Suddenly, Fyn saw Labon’s head whip upward. An expression of terror was on his face. He began to sprint towards Fyn. Fyn, of course, assumed that he was finally coming to join him.
“Run, Fyn!” Labon yelled, but Fyn still couldn’t hear him.
“I said go!”
Fyn strained to make out his father’s words, but nothing made sense. Then he saw his father’s expression and looked up in time to see a Flying Rock bearing down on him. There was nowhere he could go in time. Fyn prepared himself for the inevitable.
“Get down!” Labon yelled, tackling Fyn to the ground. Everything following seemed to Fyn to happen very slowly. As he fell to the ground, twisting to avoid landing on his spines, he looked over his father’s back. There was a flash, and another loud rumble as the Flying Rock hit the ground right in front of them. This one was big, perhaps Cera’s size, and the resulting explosion blasted both Fyn and Labon off their feet and backwards. Fyn hit the ground hard and Labon landed almost on top of him. The landing was anything but painless, but at least they were alive, and it seemed as if the rock storm was dying down finally. Fyn got up from under his father slowly and looked back to the sky, hoping he was right.
“What?” he whispered in horrified disbelief. There was still one more cruel trick nature had to play. There was only one speck of light left, but it was massive. It was, in fact, the Flying Rock that had lagged behind all of the others, and the strains that falling through the atmosphere had placed upon it were finally about to take effect. There was a sudden, blinding flash of light in the skies above the Great Valley.
“Get down again!” Fyn yelled to Labon, but it seemed as if his father had already been prepared. He was already on the ground. Fyn dove to his side as the sound hit. It was unlike anything he’d ever heard before, and he only heard it for an instant. It was a terrible, loud, whooshing sound, unlike any roar a Sharptooth had ever made. Then there was silence, save for a ringing in Fyn’s ears. Then came the worst part. A massive wave of displaced and heated air hit the Valley. Fyn felt it rock him, threatening to tear him from the Valley floor, but he stayed pressed to the ground. The air was hot, hotter than the strongest summer heat, and it hurt as it washed over him, but Fyn did not flinch. He watched as nearby trees were completely uprooted, and flung about like sticks, then his vision went dark. The true Starfall, it seemed, had just happened.
