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« on: January 02, 2015, 10:31:39 PM »
This is the beginning of a new fanfic I started. It won't be too long, hopefully. I intend on this being a oneshot. It will focus mostly on Littlefoot, and be, likely, entirely from his viewpoint.
I have yet to name the story. I haven't thought of a title yet.
Here is the first scene-
ëWhy did he do it? Why did he just...leave like that?’
This question played over and over again in Littlefoot’s mind. He knew it was fruitless to keep asking himself that question. His dad had already answered it for him when they had met each other for the first time, back at Crater Valley. His story had been short and simple, but it was enough for him to have a good idea on his father’s mindset and motivations.
...or did it? He had thought he was satisfied, and had even spent some time bonding with him. He had gotten to know his father well, to the point when it came time for him to leave or choose to stay, it was hard to make the decision. Whatever he had chosen would have resulted in a loss of something. He couldn’t ask his friends to stay, and he couldn’t beg his father to abandon his herd. Yet...the question remains.
Why? Why was he so unsatisfied with his dad’s answer? Why couldn’t he just let it go? It was old news. His dad felt bad about it, and if he could, he would have done things differently. So why hang onto it?
Deep down, Littlefoot knew what the problem was. He was still angry with his father. He hadn’t realized it before. He had been too focused on hanging out with his dad, and the bright circle nearly falling out of the sky, that it just...left his mind. It had taken the whole month since he had come back for the old, bitter feelings to return. It was not a pleasant sensation, and Littlefoot was left constantly in the grip of nausea.
He had to do something about it, but what? It wasn’t like his dad was anywhere nearby. He couldn’t just walk all the way to Crater Valley by himself just to speak with him. And he couldn’t expect his father to do the same.
Still, he had to find some way to talk to him. The question was just going to keep burning his mind if he didn’t find out. Maybe he can talk to his grandparents. Yeah, they might know of something.
The young longneck rested at the edge of the small cliff, his head positioned over the jagged edge. He looked down below, seeing his friends play in the distance, running around in an open field. They couldn’t see him; his body was covered up by the green food, mostly cast in the shade of the bright circle. He didn’t want to be seen. He wasn’t in the mood to play today. At the moment, his mind was off wandering too much to really focus on whatever game they wanted to play. He felt guilty for lying to them earlier about being sick, but...he had no choice. He needed time to clear his mind.
His friends would have wanted to help. He knew that’s what they would have said if they find out later he lied. He would have accepted their help. He just didn’t think they could help him with this. He didn’t want them to have the burden they did not deserve. No, he would deal with this his own way.
He felt something moving in the ground. Vibrations, the thuds of heavy feet. At first, he thought it was his grandparents. No, the feet thuds weren’t heavy enough. Mr. Clubtail, perhaps? No, not quite...
Littlefoot’s eyes widened when the bush not far from him parted, revealing the familiar, greyed face of Mr. Threehorn. He immediately turned himself around and stared at the large dinosaur before him.
ëWhat’s he doing here? Did he follow me?’ Littlefoot mentally shook his head at that crazy thought. ëNo, that’s not like him. He usually has better things to do than hang out with longnecks.’
Littlefoot lowered his body as he saw the massive threehorn stare down at him. For a moment, their eyes locked. The young longneck was instantly reminded of when they first met. The intensity of that glare...so much like he was giving now... Littlefoot would never forget that moment. He hadn’t been as terrified as, say, going up against Sharptooth, but that wasn’t saying much. Even now, he still felt a level of...not fear completely, but..apprehension? Yes, apprehension, around him.
Mr. Threehorn looked surprised to see him. Not that it surprised Littlefoot all that much. He was pretty well hidden in the bush, and it wasn’t like he was making a lot of noise. That surprised expression was soon replaced with that familiar frown that he knew all too well. Littlefoot waited for a condescending remark from him, or for him to simply turn around and walk away.
What he got instead was entirely unexpected, considering just who Mr. Threehorn was.
“What is the matter, kid? Got something on your mind?”
Littlefoot spluttered. He hadn’t expect that kind of response from him. Mr. Threehorn wasn’t usually the type to ask how others were feeling. Unable to respond, he just stared at him.
Mr. Threehorn snorted. “I don’t know why you’re looking at me that way.”
“You...never asked me that before...” Littlefoot finally managed a response. “I-I was just...”
Mr. Threehorn tilted his head to one side. He looked at Littlefoot with a single, scrutinizing eye. “What? You think I’m not capable of asking such a question?”
“N-No! That’s not it!” Littlefoot shook his head. “I-It’s just that...” He stammered, struggling to get his sentence finished. “I-I don’t know...”
The large, grey threehorn glared down at him. After a second, there was a slight softening of his expression. Not much, but for him, it was a big deal. “Oh, that’s quite all right. It isn’t a question I ask normally...unless it was with Cera, but that goes without saying.”
Littlefoot nodded his head. Of course he would ask that of Cera at least once. She was his daughter after all, and the only member left of his family. Littlefoot felt his heart sting at this realization. Shaking it out of his mind, he turned around and laid himself back down. His chin rested on the ground as his legs were crossed.
“Oh, nothing is wrong.” Littlefoot spoke softly. “I just...came up here to rest. I wasn’t feeling well and...I...” He fell silent for a few moments. “I’m fine.”
“I know something is on your mind, Littlefoot. You can’t keep it hidden from me.” Mr. Threehorn said. Littlefoot could feel the ground move slightly as the large dinosaur took a step forward. When Littlefoot didn’t respond, Mr. Threehorn snorted, his impatience practically transparant. “I’m not stupid, Littlefoot. I know you well enough to recognize when something is bothering you.” He lifted his head up swiftly in a gesturing motion. “Usually, you’re out playing with my daughter and your other friends. To see you sitting here, by yourself, and then trying to lie to me... Yeah, something’s definitely eating you.”
Littlefoot’s eyes widened in horror. “Something is eating me? Where?!” Littlefoot immediately looked around his body.
Mr. Threehorn chuckled dryly. “It was just an expression, Littlefoot.”
Littlefoot relaxed at this. “Oh...” He sat back down. He lowered his head, giving the threehorn an upwards glance. “So..how did you know I was lying?”
“I have my ways, kid.” Mr. Threehorn said with a smile. “Having Cera for a daughter has taught me some tricks in how to tell when someone is lying to me. Besides...” He raised up his foot and motioned it towards Littlefoot. “Your tail was twitching a little too much, and your voice was a little higher pitched than normal. I think it’s safe to assume that you weren’t being all that truthful.”
“Oh..” Littlefoot gave a half smile of embarrassment. “Am I that easy to figure out?”
“If you want to lie, you should try a little harder.” Mr. Threehorn opened his mouth and ripped out some grass from the ground. He chewed it up and swallowed. He turned back to Littlefoot. “So why don’t we start over from the beginning, this time with the truth?”
Littlefoot gritted his teeth. He didn’t feel all that comfortable with talking to Cera’s dad, of all dinosaurs, about his problems. He wasn’t exactly the sentimental type. Even Cera admitted that he was hard to speak to at times. And Littlefoot being a longneck certainly didn’t help things. He had his doubts that Mr. Threehorn would be able to help him, or even want to try all that hard.
Then again, what did he have to lose? It would be good to get this off his chest, even if it was with Mr. Threehorn. If anything, this could be good practice for when he spoke to his grandparents on the issue.
“Well, you see...I...I was just thinking about my dad...” Littlefoot managed to say.
Mr. Threehorn’s expression softened up again, only by a tiny bit. “You mean Bron?” Littlefoot nodded his head. “Yes..I believe Cera mentioned him to me when you kids got back.” There was a slight annoyance in his voice. It was clear that he was not happy that Cera left with the rest of her friends unguarded. “Okay...so what about him?”
“I’m just trying to understand why he left.” Littlefoot admitted. “You see, many years ago, when I was still... Before I was an egg, my dad left to find a safe place to raise me. But when he came back, everything had changed and we were gone. He tried to find me, but he never did... And he eventually found Crater Valley and formed a herd.”
“So he forgot about you?” Asked Mr. Threehorn.
“No! No, it wasn’t like that.” Littlefoot struggled to remember what else his dad had told him. “He was trying to find me. He found out my mom was dead, so he tried to find me. Day in, day out, he looked. But he had no luck.” He turned his head away. “I...guess he thought I was dead.”
“I see.” Mr. Threehorn nodded once, appearing to understand. “Did you two make it up?”
“Yeah. I met him at Crater Valley and he explained what happened. We got to know one another and we did make up for lost time. I was even..reluctant to return. It felt so hard leaving him...” Littlefoot would never forget the look on his dad’s face when he had to leave him behind.
Mr. Threehorn frowned at this. “And...so?”
Littlefoot looked at up him in surprise. “Huh?”
“So...what? If he explained what happened to you, and if you’re on good terms with him, then..what about him is bothering you? Is there something that you aren’t telling me?”
The longneck pondered about how he should tell Mr. Threehorn. How could he word this without sounding weird? He had never admitted something like this before to anyone. He never expected Mr. Threehorn to be his first go. He felt like he was being rushed. The threehorn’s glare wasn’t helping him.
He soon realized that he had no idea how he was going to say this. He knew what was wrong and what was bothering him. But to put it to words... That was a whole different story. Organizing the proper thoughts and sentences in his head was a lot harder than he thought it was going to be. He wondered if this was what dinosaurs like Mr. Thicknose had to go through when trying to explain something personal. He recalled it wasn’t exactly easy for the thicknose to confess about him never having left the Great Valley and how all his knowledge of the outside world came from farwalkers.
Before he could speak another word, Mr. Threehorn’s voice stopped him.
“It’s because you aren’t satisfied with his answer...isn’t it?”
Littlefoot stared wide-eyed at the grey threehorn. Was he a mind reader? Swallowing dryly, he nodded. “Yeah... I mean...I know he told me what he could, but..something just feels...wrong, I guess.” He looked away. “I’m not sure how to explain it.”
“You feel that he could have done more. You feel that he shouldn’t have left, and you can’t come to peace with what he did.” Mr. Threehorn said as he stared down at Littlefoot. The longneck didn’t look up. He heard the sound of chewing and swallowing. He felt another step towards him. “Trust me, kid. I know how you feel.”
“Y-You do...?” Littlefoot raised his head a little higher. “How? Did you have a father that left you?” Mr. Threehorn shook his head. “Then how could you possibly understand...?” Littlefoot rested his head back down. He should have known that the old dinosaur wouldn’t understand.
“Because I am a father...and I’m a leader.” The grey dinosaur backtracked and corrected himself. “I was a leader...” For a moment, there was a look of sorrow in the threehorn’s eyes. It was brief and fleeting, and with a quick shake of his head, it was gone. “I have had to make many hard decisions in my life, both for my family, and for the good of my herd. Sometimes, they were the right choice. Other times, they would backfire horribly on me. I felt every loss, even if I didn’t show it. But I would always question why I made them, why I didn’t try something different, how things might have been different.”
Littlefoot looked at the threehorn sympathetically. The inflexion of his voice suggested some..personal experience with bad decision making. He wondered if this had anything to do with the disappearance of his mate and other children. He decided it was best not to press the matter. “So...do you know why my dad would just..leave like that?”
Mr. Threehorn snorted at this. “Of course not! I don’t know him! But you do.” He lowered his head slightly. “Only you can fully answer that.” He raised his head back up. “However, I can tell you what I think. I can give you an idea of what it must have been like for him. Now, I don’t know how you longnecks run your herds, and frankly, I’m not all that interested.” He shook his head. “But I’m sure that Bron’s reason was at least partially influenced by the burden of being the leader.”
“Leader?” Littlefoot narrowed his eyes in confusion.
“Wasn’t he the leader of your family group?” Asked the threehorn.
“I...” Littlefoot looked left and right. He had never really thought to ask his dad that. He was the leader of the current herd, yes. But he did not know about his immediate family group, with his mom and grandparents. Well, it would make sense if he was. “I..think so.”
“Then if he was, when he made the choice, a thousand questions must have been racing through his mind. Something must have prompted the decision for him to leave.” Mr. Threehorn explained.
“But what? Why couldn’t he have stayed?” Littlefoot tried his best to keep himself under control. He didn’t mean to get this emotional about it. But the anger was still there, yearning for understanding. “Why didn’t he just take my mom with her? Then we would have been together! We....”
“Could all have been killed.” Mr. Threehorn’s answer was blunt, precise, and to the point. Littlefoot couldn’t even think of a response to that. “I was around during that time. I remember being with my...mate, discussing the decision to move on. The land we lived in was great, so full of food and life. But..the winds of change had been long approaching, and we knew it was only a matter of time before something happened.”
“The winds of change?” Littlefoot was confused. What did the threehorn mean by that?
“It’s something you longnecks wouldn’t understand. But you see...we threehorns have a better sense of smell.” Mr. Threehorn explained. “It’s not noticeable when we are kids, but as adults, we can smell things better than most other kinds. It’s not as good as sharpteeth’s... but it’s still better than yours.”
“I see...” Littlefoot tried to wrap his mind around that. He didn’t expect threehorns to have that good sense a smell. He tried not to dwell on it too much. “So you could smell something was coming?”
Mr. Threehorn nodded his head. “Yes. It’s...hard to explain. But yes, we could definitely smell something was coming. So we had to leave. We didn’t stick around for long and we departed.” He raised his head up, his eyes fixating towards the sky for a few seconds. “I’m sure your father probably saw me leave, and realized something was wrong.” He looked down at Littlefoot. “We threehorns are the toughest dinosaurs in existence.”
Littlefoot tried not to smirk at his show of arrogance. This was more like the Mr. Threehorn that he knew. “So when you guys leave, everybody knows something is up?”
Mr. Threehorn nodded. “Precisely.”
“So...how would my folks have died if they left together?” Littlefoot narrowed his eyes in confusion. “You didn’t tell me that.”
“Oh I didn’t?” Mr. Threehorn widened his eyes slightly. “Oh yes, I forgot to add that part.” He cleared his throat. “Well, our herd was migrating at the time, and we had come in front the direction your father headed in.”
“I thought you left before him.” Littlefoot interjected.
“We did. But it’s hard to miss a massive dinosaur like your father, even from a distance.” Mr. Threehorn said with a smile. The smirk quickly faded as he continued, “That land had a lot of dangers in it, kid. Nothing like you had ever faced before. I’m surprised that he went alone, let alone even survived it.”
Littlefoot’s eyes widened in horror. “Why would my dad take such a risk?”
“Because there was food there. There was a land beyond that we had been to before. Great place.” Mr. Threehorn said. “It was the pinnacle of herd migrations before the Great Valley was ever brought up again. Tree Sweet Meadows I believe it was called. It was surrounded by these plants that masked our scent and warded off sharpteeth, so it was a pretty safe place to be.” He tilted his head to one side. “I’m sure that’s where your father was going.”
The mention of the plants immediately reminded Littlefoot of those stinky plants that Chomper hid them in. He didn’t know how they could work on a large scale like that. But perhaps the old dinosaur was talking about a larger, more robust version of the plant, with a stronger smell. Littlefoot wrinkled his nose at the thought. He wasn’t sure if he would like the idea of living in a place like that.
“I know how you feel, kid. But you get used to the smell.” Said Mr. Threehorn.
“Yeah, I’m sure...” Littlefoot looked up at Mr. Threehorn. “So you’re saying that my mom could have been killed by these...dangers that you mentioned?”
Mr. Threehorn said, “I wouldn’t doubt it. In her...condition, she would have been a bit slower, and sharpteeth would have picked up on her condition and attacked her. Bron might be a young, strong longneck I’m sure, but even he would have a hard time defending his pregnant mate in a place like that. Even if the sharpteeth were taken care of, there was the land itself, and...” A quick flash of horror graced his face. “Be glad you will never have to go there, kid.”
Littlefoot’s mind played through images of dangers that the threehorn could be referring to. His imagination rapidly went wild as bizarre and horrendeous things came to mind. He shook his head, getting those thoughts out of his head. “So, my dad couldn’t stay because of the winds of change...and he couldn’t take mom with because she might have been killed...along with me...”
Mr. Threehorn nodded his head. “That sounds about right, yes. Now I’m not saying that’s how it would have been. But...as a leader, and a father, you have to be careful with your choices. Bron may have thought him leaving on his own, and then coming back, would have been the best choice.” He paused for a moment. “Was it the best choice? Maybe not. Does he regret it? I’m sure he does. But that’s the thing about leadership, Littlefoot. You will always make a decision you don’t like.”
Littlefoot lowered his head. “I just wish I knew exactly why he left...”
“You could always ask him...if he ever happens to stop by.” Suggested the threehorn.
“Yeah...I could.. Thanks.” Littlefoot said softly, his mind sifting through this new information he had been given. Even if he didn’t still fully understand, Mr. Threehorn did at least help put things into perspective.
“Well I better get going now.” Mr. Threehorn turned his head, looking back to where he guessed the nest was. “Cera will be coming back to the nest shortly for supper.” He eyed Littlefoot. “I won’t tell her about your little lie if you promise you don’t tell her about this conversation. It never happened. Got it?”
Littlefoot smirked and nodded. “My mouth is closed.”
“Good.” With that, Mr. Threehorn turned and walked away.
Littlefoot watched as the threehorn left. He was not surprised by the threehorn’s request. If anything, he would have been more shocked if he didn’t bring that up. Mr. Threehorn usually didn’t carry out conversations like this, especially not with another kind. He probably didn’t want his daughter thinking that he was going soft.
He looked back out towards his friends. It was a little easier to see them now. They were coming closer. They still hadn’t spotted him, not even Petrie. He was glad. He was still not comfortable with speaking to them on this manner. Maybe he will later on, once he came to grips with his feelings on the subject, and once he understood things better. He took Mr. Threehorn’s words into consideration. Yeah, talking with his father might work, an idea he had before.
Littlefoot didn’t know when he was going to see his dad again, though. And he realized that there may be only one way he could get in touch with him. He hated the idea of leaving the Great Valley again, especially since it felt as though he had just gotten back. But there were little options available to him.
Getting up from his resting spot, the longneck turned and headed back towards his nest. It was time to speak to his grandparents.