I really must stop posting in ancient topics... OTL

Aside from all the points already mentioned here, am I the only one that noticed that Grandpa Longneck among other things is also fire-proof?

Chapter: 6
Copyright: © characters and places by United Pictures; © Plot and OC by me

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Days passed, flying by like tree-stars on the wind. The weather finally seemed to match the overall mood: the Sky Water would not stop falling, drenching the earth in and around the Great Valley. More than once rock-walls threatened to give way, opening the Valley to Sharpteeth. Each and every time word of that somehow reached Littlefoot he’d go into shock, all but clinging to his Grandfather for hours afterwards and Grandpa Longneck made it a habit to carry Littlefoot to his nest each evening, both needing the simple closeness of the other.
Where the grandson was haunted by day, the grandfather was haunted at night. Grandpa slept poorly; even in sleep the lack of a body beside him was evident.
He would wake several times in a cold sweat – at least how much that was possible in the downpour – during a single night. Too many memories mixed with her final moments, keeping him from finding rest. Had Littlefoot ever been awake during such a moment, he’d never have recognized the loving father-figure that had raised him in his mother’s stead. Instead, he would have been terrified by the haunted and disoriented look in those once loving eyes.
Despite the silent and unspoken promise not to fall under the pressure, Grandpa Longneck was doing just that.
Relief and help came a few days later. Bron had been near the Valley with his herd when the Sky Water first started falling and they had sought shelter behind the Great Wall from the worst of the storms.
Before he had even properly entered, let alone seen his son, a pink Threehorn had come up to him, asking for a moment of his time. It took him a moment to recognize her as Tria, Old Threehorn’s new mate.
“It’s good you came by.” She told him as they entered the forest.
“How come?” Shorty trailed after him as he followed the female away from the rest of his herd.
“Littlefoot needs you.” Tria bluntly told him. “And before you run off, hear me out.”
“Did something happen to him?” Bron was concerned. His duties kept him away from the Great Valley more than he’d like and months could pass where he didn’t see his son.
“Not to him.” She stopped him, gesturing out from between the trees. “What do you see?”
The falling Sky Water nearly obscured what she was pointing at.
“Littlefoot and Papa Longneck.” Bron answered her, bringing his head down to her level.
“That’s all that’s left.” She whispered. “A week or two ago an earth-shake hit. Several rubble-mounds collapsed in the aftermath. Grandma Longneck was one of those checking which ones had. The one she went to check up upon HAD collapsed. She held the breach in the Great Wall against over a dozen Fast Biters and even managed to cause a rockslide that closed it again, but she did not get back in.”
“Oh no…” Bron breathed, looking up again. He only now noticed how his father-in-law seemed slightly slumped.
“The Fast Biters killed her and her … body was dragged off by several bigger Sharpteeth.” Tria confirmed what he had already realized. “And while Grandpa Longneck truly tries to be there for Littlefoot, his own grief is overwhelming. They need someone who can be there for them. The other Valley-residents try, but it is not enough. What they offer is not what those two need: the support of a loving family.” She motioned towards the form of the older longneck. “They need you right now.”
He nodded, looking over at Shorty, who followed him out from the relative cover of the trees into the downpour.
Tria looked after them for a bit, before turning to return to her own family. As she left the forest on the other side, she was stopped by the voice of one of Cera’s friends. Ruby the Fast Runner softly, but quickly told the Threehorn that all was not well with Chomper: he kept blaming himself for what happened because he did not smell the Fast Biters until it was too late. He thought that if he just had smelled them on time, Littlefoot would not have lost his grandmother.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Tyra froze at the sound of falling stones. A quick glance around told her that no one was there.
They must have come loose from all the Sky Water. She set a few hesitant steps, softly cursing the weather which had not changed for days. While it hid her from her potential prey, it could also hide Red Claw from her and that was something she really could do without.
Despite being a fully-grown adult, she knew that should it come down to it, he’d wipe the ground with her, especially now that she was hunting in the very center of his territory.
She moved on, every sense on high alert. It couldn’t be much further now. Finally she found what she was looking for. She leaned down, studying the Fast Biter. It’d have to do.
Over the sound of the Sky Water came a terrifying roar. She looked up for a second, seeing a silhouette coming ever closer. It’d definitely have to do. She snatched up the Fast Biter and made a run for it.
Over the sounds of Sky Rumbling came a much more terrible sound: a Sharptooth giving chase. Had her mouth not been full, she would have cursed.
The light-green Sharptooth ran for her life as the other one came ever closer. He was not hindered by the weight of a Fast Biter and knew the terrain, which helped him a lot in catching up with her.
But unlike her, he was not desperate. Tyra made a turn left, up a hillside she’d never even have attempted had it not been storming for days beforehand. By some miracle she reached the top before the stones crashed down. She did not stick around to see Red Claw’s reaction to her escape. She didn’t need to: his furious roar echoed for miles in the desolate landscape of the Mysterious Beyond.

In Europe (at least my part of it) they do the Animation first too, as far as I know :3

I remember seeing footage of peeps recording their character's voices and them watching at footage of the movie so they could time what they're saying with how the mouth of their character moved.

*whistles innocently*

Thank you, I am glad you enjoy it that much, but to quote Rec:

but if the signs are any indication she is too old to recover from the wounds those Fast Biters dealt her.

Chapter: 5
Copyright: © characters and places by United Pictures; © Plot and OC by me

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The young sharptooth was deeply asleep, unlike her parents. Her mother was looking out into the falling Sky Water, keeping watch to ensure Red Claw could not come upon them unawares. Her father had finally come round and now was tending the wounded female laying deeper in the cave. Sky Fire illuminated the world for a brief moment, immediately followed by the loud clap of Sky Rumbling.
The female started at what she had seen for a brief moment. A lone tree had thrown a long shadow, but it had not fit the form of the thing itself. Somehow, it had looked like a longneck, looking directly at the cave.
The next Sky Fire did the same. She narrowed her eyes, trying to get a better visual. Yes, definitely a Longneck-shadow. But there were no Longnecks around to throw it and the tree simply did not match the form at all. She hissed in surprise when Sky Fire struck the tree, setting it ablaze despite the downpour. Thankfully that tree was the only one, so there was no danger.
Blood-red eyes widened when the flames threw long shadows… in the form of a longneck. Something was seriously off here. She backed away from the cave-opening, never once taking her eyes of the dark form on the opposite mountain-wall.
As the fire finally was quenched by the falling Sky Water the shadow faded and when the next bolt of Sky Fire crossed the sky, the tree threw a normal shadow again.
“Tyra.” The voice of her husband came from deeper in the cave. “I did all I could.”
She looked one last time at the tree, before joining him. He was an accomplished healer, and the wounded dinosaur looked somewhat better now that he had tended to her.
Tyra looked her over. “Then we wait, until she either lives or dies.”
“There is not much else we can do anyway, is there?” Her mate said. “How about you get some rest and I’ll keep watch?”
“Good idea.” She made herself comfortable next to their sleeping daughter. “Rec?”
“Yes?” He turned back to her.
“Healer’s opinion. Will she make it?” She gestured to the massive body next to her.
“She is old. The blood-loss was severe.” Rec answered slowly. “Were she younger she might, but if the signs are any indication she is too old to recover from the wounds those Fast Biters dealt her.”
His mate sighed sadly at the notion. “Poor little one.”
“He already believes her dead. There was a flyer over the spot, remember? She probably saw us carry her off.” He lovingly nuzzled her. “Try to sleep, my dear.”
“I will.” Tyra whispered, watching as he took up watch at the cave-entrance.
She did not sleep much. Instead she watched the slow rise and fall on the massive chest next to her. She had no idea why she had even insisted they should try to save the older female. After all, by all accounts they should have feasted that day. She shifted her head, studying the unmoving face. She recalled her first meeting with the other female. She had been searching for her son in the very valley they were now only a short journey away from, together with her husband. But before finding their son – who had been hatched by some little ones, which ironically were the very same young ones she and Rec tried to eat – they had had a run-in with several grown-ups, including two old longnecks. Chomper had later told them those longnecks were the grandparents of the longneck who had hatched him. Perhaps that was why she had insisted they try to save the old longneck: she could relate to her. They both would go to great lengths to save their little ones. Sadly, it seemed that the lengths the flattooth had gone to were greater than she could survive.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

The ëpoor little one’ had been found not long after the talk between his grandfather and Mr. Threehorn. Now Grandpa Longneck and Littlefoot were curled up at their resting-grounds, the older longneck using his body to shield the young one from the worst brunt of the elements. They had been talking the entire time now, mostly about their feelings.
The tirade of the threehorn had finally woken up Littlefoot’s grandfather and he had silently sworn that he would use his energy to support Littlefoot, who was far too young to have to deal with this, rather than allow himself to succumb to his grief.
“I never heard you sing…” The whisper barely reached his ears over the sounds of the storm above them.
“What do you mean?” Grandpa brought his face closer to the small one of his grandson.
“You hardly ever sang.” Littlefoot looked up. “Can you sing that lullaby to me?”
The older male blinked a few times in surprise, before slowly nodding. “You might find I don’t have a good singing voice though.”
The circle of life
Is simple yet profound
A quite straight forward line
That goes around and round and round
It starts at the beginning
And it will never end
And that to me
Must surely be
Life's secret, my friend
For the circle of life
Continues every day
None of us can stop it
From going on its’ way
With each new generation
One more circle is complete
On and on and on
It goes repeating
Repeating
Repeating
Repeating
It nurtures the young
Until they're fully grown
And soon life's magic circle
Brings them children of their own
The family of nature
Each husband and wife
Enhances the circle
The ever-widening circle
The wonderful circle of life
Littlefoot smiled weakly. His grandfather’s voice was much deeper than his grandmother’s had been, but the song still sounded wonderful with it.

*cough*

Perhaps he does, but he never saw reason to show it? *shrug*

Nope, he's heart-broken atm xD

It sure looked like a meteorite, but immediately after the fire started, Littlefoot implied that it had come from a smoking mountain. "fire rock" was previously used to refer to lava bombs in "Canyon of the Shiny Stones", while the term "flying rock" is reserved for meteorites. (I'd even go so far as to guess that if the rock was intended to be a meteorite, there was some miscommunication between the animators and the scriptwriters, and it was instead described as a lava bomb.) I'm hesitant to use both terms, for fear of making things confusing.
 

Sorry for popping in late, but couldn't it be that they use 'Fire Rock' for any flying rock that is also hot? That could both apply to the Meteorite (Flying Rock that is on FIRE) and the Lava-bombs (Fire Rocks that FLIES)...

Sneaky Wifi-use is Sneaky, I assume?

Well, at least that means I don't have to worry about you falling off the island  

Rating: T
Warnings: Blood, Character Death (Same level as first Movie)
Chapter: 3
Copyright: © characters and places by United Pictures; © Plot and OC by me
Author's Note: Anyone who is going to/has read this over on FF.net, please no spoilering for those that want to read it on here, kay? :3 Reviews and Critisism is appreciated

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The weather was mocking him Littlefoot decided. It was two days ago that his Grandmother had died, and ever since there had been nothing but sunshine, only a few tiny sky puffies floating overhead. A gentle breeze was all that disturbed the long grass. In other words, the weather was downright mocking him.
His friends tried to support him, but how could they know what he felt? He had lost his mother a few years prior and now had lost his mother-figure in pretty much the same way. He huffed, a few stray tears falling down his cheeks. Why did such things always happen to him?
His grandfather was gone most of the time, only returning to their resting-place to sleep. The older Longneck would spend the better part of the day just standing in front of the blocked-off ravine, not moving for hours. They rarely spoke to one another these days, each desperately trying to cope with the loss.
“Littlefoot?” The young Longneck turned at the voice. Mr. Threehorn was standing a short distance away, watching him with something like concern in his eyes. “You haven’t moved, have you?”
“Go away.” He didn’t care if his rudeness would call forth the famed temper of the Threehorn, all he wanted was to be left alone. Neither happened.
“You can’t remain here forever, you know.” A shadow fell over the young one. “Your friends worry about you.”
“Let them.” Littlefoot turns away from the grown-up.
“That’s a very wrong attitude.” Littlefoot heard a heavy body lay down. “Will you look at me, Littlefoot?”
Reluctantly the young one turned to look at the Threehorn beside him.
“Hiding here from those that care about you isn’t the way to deal with this, young one.”
“Why? I lost everything…” A sob nearly escaped his lips and he was surprised when he felt the gentle touch of a nuzzle on his back.
“You have your grandfather and father, even if he isn’t here at the moment, and your friends.”
“Grandpa is gone the entire time.” Littlefoot huffed. “He just stands at the ravine the entire time. He hasn’t talked to me in days.”
“Can you blame him? He lost the love of his live.” Mr. Threehorn said. “Do you recall when you all came here after the Great Earthshake?”
“Yes.” Littlefoot didn’t quite catch what he was trying to say, but went along anyway.
“Do you recall ever seeing Cera’s mother after you did?”
The young Longneck shook his head. He had not been paying that much attention to the Threehorn-family, to be honest, but now that he thought about it he really hadn’t seen her. Or Cera’s sisters for that matter.
“They were killed by Sharpteeth. I was heartbroken, the only thing driving me on was my pride which refused to allow me to give in to despair and just get myself killed too. Mind you, until Cera actually ran up to me I thought I had lost her too.”
“Why are you telling me this, Mr. Threehorn?” Littlefoot asked, looking up in the gray face of Cera’s father.
“Because I want you to understand WHY your grandfather is standing in front of that ravine the entire day.” He looked down in the brown eyes of the Longneck. “Imagine how much is needed to bring me down. Your grandfather is feeling that exact feeling right now.”
“But… aren’t that two different situations?” He meekly asked, growing unnerved under the scrutiny of the grown-up.
“What makes you think that?” Mr. Threehorn turned to look at the faraway silhouette of the older Longneck. “I think they are very much the same: I lost a mate and children back then and in a way, he lost a mate and child two days ago. And yes, I know your mother died years ago…” He cut off the little one who made to retaliate. “But you can’t tell me you didn’t draw the parallels between how she died and your grandmother did. Your grandfather drew those same parallels and now not only grieves for your grandmother, but also your mother. And right now that grief drowns out all other feelings he has.”  
At that, Littlefoot broke down. He cried and cried and his tears just wouldn’t stop. He didn’t notice how several other grown-ups arrived, having heard his wails off sorrow. The old Threehorn just shook his head at them, telling them silently to leave the young one be.
It was hours later that Littlefoot finally managed to calm down somewhat, having exhausted himself some time earlier.
“Feeling a bit better?” He asked when the little Longneck had grown completely silent. Littlefoot nodded meekly. “Good, now go to those friends of you. They might not know how you feel, but they can support you.”
“But Grandpa…”
“Let that be my problem for now.” The old Threehorn rose from the ground again. “I know what he is feeling right now and believe me, what he needs right now is a good kick against his hindquarters. I believe you’re too small for that though.”
Littlefoot nodded and walked off to find his friends.
“How did I become the grief-counselor of the Longnecks?” Topps sighed, looking up when he heard rustling leaves. Tria walked up to him, looking after the young Longneck as she did so.
“You said it yourself: you were pretty much in the same situation Grandpa Longneck is right now.” She rubbed her head against his lovingly. “You understand him, because quite frankly, under that tough exterior you are soft.”
“Am not.” Her mate exclaimed indignantly.
“Says the guy who was so flustered by simply seeing me he failed to see a big tree and ran it through with his horn.” She answered him dryly. “Not to mention being almost adorably awkward around me. And don’t you dare refute it: Cera will back me up on this.”
He grunted, before turning and walking away, grumbling under his breath. He heard her chuckle behind him as she watched him head to the ravine with every intention of beating sense into the head of the oldest Longneck in the valley, even if that meant literally beating him.

I'd give you the link to my other stories over at FF.net, but then you could spoiler the fanfic's I'm going to post here  

I do have two PokÈmon-in-progress over at DA though, if you wanna