Chapter: 4
Copyright: © characters and places by United Pictures; © Plot and OC by me
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It took quite a while to get the exhausted dinosaurs to safety, most of them needing to be carried by the Longnecks. The three Flyers of the Valley - who had introduced themselves as Pterano, Saphira and Petrie - circled overhead to keep a lookout for the Fast Biters and other Meat-eaters. Petrie, the youngest, had not found any other survivors, leaving the once thriving herds of the forest reduced to a mere dozen tired individuals.
Chomper left them, running ahead to warn both his family and the other valley-residents that they were returning. Soon enough he returned again, taking up his vigil outside the herd.
“Do they enter your valley too?” Hadria was one of the few able to walk under their own power and now looked up to Grandma Longneck.
“Only Chomper and his mother regularly. His sister and father only do so sporadically.” Grandma told her. “And his mother stays mostly around me, while he stays around my grandson and his friends. They don’t really walk around on their own.”
“How did you become friends with them anyway?” The black Clubtail asked.
“Now that is a long story.” She chuckled, as did several other Valley-residents as they remembered that time. “It all began many Cold Times ago when my grandson and his friends – of which Petrie is one – were still young…”
She told them the story as they slowly progressed to the Great Valley. There, in the massive mountains surrounding the fertile valley-floor, they met another Sharptooth, bigger than Chomper and infinitively more threatening.
“This is Chomper’s mother.” Grandma said. “She is named Tyra.” The Sharptooth inclined her head as if in greeting and then simply turned and walked away. “Quite nice, really. Unless you challenge her or threaten her loved ones. She’s far more forgiving than her mate though.”
“Her mate?” Hadria looked scared as she scanned the surrounding mountains.
“Rec. He’s bigger, badder and a lot less inclined to enter the Valley so chances are that you’ll never meet him at any rate.” The Threehorn-female named Tria told her. “But even he listens to reason and is reluctant to kill beyond what he needs to survive, so there’s that.”
“You do realize you are more likely to terrify them than to calm them, no?” Grandma demanded of the pink Threehorn.
“I think your story already did a sufficient job of that.” Tria countered. “What with telling them that a wrong word can cause quite some trouble.”
“It was not that bad…” Grandma countered, frowning. “Everyone got out alive, didn’t they?”
“After you got several more scars.” One of other Longnecks pointed out. The old female said nothing, merely pursing her lips in response. The other Valley-residents chuckled softly again. She soon joined in, shaking her head in exasperation.
She lead them into the valley, where they were briefly introduced to several other residents and then shown to where they could rest and regain their strength.
Only one of them did not fall asleep immediately: the Clubtail-father stayed awake beside his family, glaring lightly as he looked out over the valley-floor.
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The group of the seven young ones gathered near one of the watering holes later that day, talking about the new arrivals excitedly.
“Tria has decided to name the hatchling Platia.” Cera told them. “Said it fitted with her colors.”
“Hopefully after she cleaned her.” Chomper joked. “How is she?”
“Traumatized, but you know Tria.” Cera shrugged. “She’ll have that girl back to her old self – whatever that was – in no time.”
“Yeah, we were lucky that one time, weren’t we?” Ducky mused, remembering that time when they were still young when most of the valley had burned down. “I do think no one died there, did they?”
“If they did, we were not told…” Littlefoot answered. “Everything seemed so much easier back then, didn’t it?”
“Sure did.” Petrie agreed. “Though being big is nice too.”
All of them laughed at that statement.
“At least all of you are now worthy meals.” Chomper threatened, pretending to sneak up on the Threehorn beside him.
Cera’s eyes widened briefly before she wheeled around, facing him. “Wanna see if my horns are worthy too?” She asked smugly, swinging her head from side to side as she advanced a bit.
“You’re on.” Chomper grinned, snapping at her playfully.
“Let’s hope Mr. Threehorn doesn’t come by now, that would be bad, yep yep yep.” Ducky nodded as she and her other friends moved out of the way.
“Depending on how I react.” A deep voice rumbled from behind them. Several of their grown-ups, including Tyra, had walked up on the group, now watching the young Threehorn and Sharptooth with amusement. “At the moment I am more interested in seeing who would win this.”
It seemed it would be neither: Cera had never needed to defend herself before and Chomper had been far from being taught how to hunt Threehorns by his parents. Yet both carried the potential to be formidable…
Tyra lightly started as she sensed someone else watching. She looked away from the mock-battle to see most of the new arrivals looking on, most with worry on their faces. She chuckled softly, calling out to her son. “You must flank her, Chomper. Use your speed to get behind her head-shield!”
Cera meeped ever so softly, knowing enough of the language to realize that she just might be in trouble now.
Chomper grinned at his friend.
“Stay in one place and just turn on the spot to match his movements.” Came the voice of Topps. He himself spoke no Sharptooth at all, but he instinctively knew that the Sharptooth beside him had given her child some pointers. So why shouldn’t he do the same?