The forum should now be back up and running. Please don't hesitate to let us admins know if you run into any issues.
Show Posts
21
LBT Fanfiction / Re: The Vulture and The Seabird
« on: July 30, 2024, 02:39:09 PM »
Chapter 1 is completed! Let me know what you guys think! 
The Bright Circle rose high over the rocky cliffs surrounding the Great Valley, it’s arms outstretched and touching the tips of the tree tops, before cascading down until it met with the snout of a rather eager young Apatosaurus, blinding him in his process of plucking Tree Stars from the higher branches above his stout head. Littlefoot was weary, slow in all movements other than the smacking of his own mouth. He was starving, and what Longneck wouldn’t be? After a deep slumber in the graces of his Grandparent’s presence, Littlefoot’s belly knew what it wanted, and it wanted a snack!
“Careful!” Grandpa teased him, tortling to himself as the little one tried his best to reach the higher leaves, much out of his little neck’s reach. “You might sprain something!”
With that, he leant down and rustled the higher up branches. Littlefoot huffed, pouting that his Granddad had fixed his predicament without allowing the little one to fight for what he wanted- but he could never stay mad for long. Grandpa was only helping, and if that meant making things easy for Littlefoot, especially eating times, then that’s precisely what he’d do.
It wasn’t until Grandma saw this that Grandpa stopped, giving a sheepish grin toward his wife. “Now, Grandpa, if he never learns you’ll be rustling the trees bare his entire life!” She hummed, her voice gentle but laced with a stern glint toward her spouse. Littlefoot, however, was far less interested in the bickering. He was far too busy stuffing himself with the delicious, fresh Tree Stars Grandpa had just provided, gobbling what he could before plopping his booty down on the grass and looking about himself for his friends. “May I please go play with Cera and the others?” He asked curiously, eager to find his pals and play another game.
“Well, I don’t see why not.” Grandpa nodded, looking to Grandma for approval, which she gave. “As long as you’re not hungry.” She added.
Before they even realized, Littlefoot was off, rushing over the hill as quickly as a little Apatosaurus could, tripping over his own legs as he looked back to his Grandparents and gave a sheepish grin. “I’ll find a snack if I do get hungry! Don’t worry!” He called.
The two elders chortled to each other. “Such speed, I remember being that fast when I was his age!” Grandpa commented, only for Grandma to give him a side eye. “What!”
“It’s just hard to imagine anything you do being quick~”
The pair exchanged another laugh, one that echoed through the hills and followed Littlefoot as he hurried along his way to find his friends.
“Cera!” He called, huffing and puffing as finally his speed began to waver, hustling down from Thundering Falls all the way to the western bank of the Great Valley, only pausing his trek when he heard the muffled giggles and grumbles from a familiar group of dinosaurs. “Guys! Where are you?” He called, approaching the sounds. They were seeping from beyond a patch of trees, in the center of which was a small clearing where some trees had fallen during the most recent thunderstorm.
The pines disguised much of the noise, but when Littlefoot finally found his way through the clearing, he spotted his friends, all speaking to someone settled atop a large stump, say for Ruby and Chomper. The figure was colorful, dressed in shades of burnt oranges and yellows, his wings a brown and his beak a bright tan shade. He looked like a walking circus, (not that Littlefoot or the other children knew what that was) his movements dramatic and theatrical, only pausing when they all looked up at Littlefoot.
“Littlefoot!” Petrie cried, fluttering off of Cera’s head and flitting toward his friend, landing on his big flat head. “Must meet our new friend! Comes all the way from Big Water!” He chimed, happily introducing the colorful, flying friend.
“Big Water?” Littlefoot nervously eyed the Flyer, curiosity overpowering the weariness he felt. Meeting strangers never panned out well for him, not that there was anything wrong with them… they just tended to be…
Confusing.
“Hello! Uh-” Littlefoot looked for the Flyer to fill him in on his name, which he proudly announced soon after. “RUSE! Ruse’s name is Ruse.” He didn’t just say his name, he said it 3 times, almost like he was talking about himself. How strange… Not even Petrie in his young age spoke exactly like that, he must really not be from around here.
“Ruse?” Littlefoot repeated, confused by the name. Even that sounded foreign to him. “That’s a- cool name- You come from the Big Water?”
“Yes, Ruse is very cool. Ruse is here to bring lotsa new fun! Ruse knows many games. Would Littlefoot like to play too?” He lifted his brow, eyeing the young Longneck. For a moment, Littlefoot contemplated on playing with a stranger, especially one so strange. His Grandparents were always so aware, recently highly weary over who he got along with, not that they judged like Cera’s dad. They were more so just trying to keep him safe, though- he supposed that’s just what Cera’s dad was doing, in his own way.
Not that that was an excuse to treat others badly. Littlefoot had to keep that in mind. It was not an excuse.
“I suppose!” He murmured, still a bit cautious. Cera picked up on this, also not in tune with whatever this strange Flyer had to offer, though her feelings stemmed from her father’s aggression and fear rather than true caution. “What are your games, anyways?” She asked, squinting down at Ruse. Ruse retorted with a cock of his colorful head, chortling up at her in defiance. “Ruse plays many games- but Ruse would rather show than tell, yes?” He hobbled, Littlefoot instantly picking up on the way the other walked. Instead of on two feet like Petrie’s Mom or Uncle, Ruse walked on all fours, favoring his right front leg as he scuttled off the stump and into the grass below him.
“I’d like to know more about you first-” Littlefoot wearily smiled, earning himself a side eye from Ruse. “What does Longneck want to know?”
“Well, uhm- h-how did you come to the Great Valley? Are you with anyone? And- why do you walk and talk like that?” These were all questions that could be answered, but Ruse, instead, turned toward the others and grinned.
“Let’s play Spy first, then Ruse tells all about himself.” He hummed. Littlefoot frowned deeply, but the others didn’t seem to notice, too enamored by the fowl’s promise of games.
“Ruse flies high in the air, Ruse pretends to hunt you- if Ruse spots you, you fall down and play dead!”
“That sounds stupid.” Cera said, rather annoyed. “Not stupid. If Threehorn has better games, Threehorn can play them with self!” He puffed up, before leaping into the air and fluttering up a few feet.
Ducky lunged at the idea of a new game, nodding excitedly, her hands pressed together. “I would very much like to play this new game, yes, yes, yes.” She insisted, giving Cera a wide eyed look. “But it would not be the same without Cera!” Cera returned with an uncomfortable, scrunched up expression, urged by those tearful, wet Swimmer eyes. “Fine!” She huffed, before stomping her way from the stump she had been sulking at. “I’ll play…”
Ruse gave a gleeful chirp. For a Flyer his size, he sure had a wingspan, picking up speed and lifting higher above the group. Littlefoot paused, peeking around. “Well, shouldn’t we wait for Ruby and Chomper?” He asked, only for Cera to roll her eyes. “He’s here now, if they’re still hunting stink bugs then I’d rather not wait!”
“Hide!” Ruse insisted, giggling. “Hide so Ruse can spot you!”
Littlefoot couldn’t help but raise his brows, but upon the rush of Ruse, he hustled to one of the various treelinings and began to hide, tucking his tail about his legs and waddling slowly through the underbrush. The rest of the children darted to hide. He swept down into the brush, through the trees, showing off his excellent, exotic acrobatics mid-air. He held his wings out straight, breaking on the air in order to slow his pace. They were all hidden, and Ruse gave them a moment to settle, before he spotted Spike’s tail peeking from a bush.
He came in hot, his big beak leaned back to peck at the big tubby Spiketail’s tail tip, yanking it so that he knew he had been caught. “SPY YOU!” He squawked, making poor Spike yelp and fall over onto his back. A laugh erupted from the Flyer, hurrying to lift off the ground again as Spike moaned out in annoyance, his poor tail crumpled toward him. Unknown to either, he had just toppled the big Spiketail straight onto Ducky, who was squeaking and flailing about beneath him. “Spike! Too heavy!” She barely got out, before he finally rolled off and gave a low murr in apology.
Ruse squawked, flying up into the air again, swooping toward the left where he had spotted a familiar yellow tail peeking from behind the bushes. Littlefoot crawled toward Ducky and Spike, whispering to them. “Did he say anything about where he came from before I arrived?” He asked, attempting to avoid being spotted by the Flyer. Ducky and Spike both shake their heads, looking toward each other curiously at the question. “No, he said he was from the Big Water, that he swims and eats fish so we don’t need to be afraid!” She assured, her little hand touching Littlefoot’s foot. “Why are you so asking, Littlefoot?” Ducky questioned. “Do you think he is not good?” She whispered this, cupping her hands to her duck billed mouth. Meanwhile, the Thalassodromeus flittered toward Cera, pulling on her tail with his back legs, giggling deviously. “Fat yellow one has been found!”
“FAT!!”
Cera’s voice shrieked, a snort erupting from her as she turned on her feet and rutted her horn toward the Flyer, making him yelp and scramble away. “DON’T call me FAT!” Ruse jumped again as she rammed her nose toward him again, more or less shuffling him toward the center of the clearing. “Ruse is sorry~!” He laughed, rolling over himself as he scuttled to avoid her horn. “Ruse won’t call you fat again~!”
Littlefoot leaned down toward Ducky. “I just think we should be careful…” He murmured, looking up toward Ruse and Cera bickering. “Last time we trusted an adult we didn’t know, well…it was Uncle Pterano.” He looked down to Ducky, who looked toward Spike. “Well, what if we ask him now! I think Ruse would understand our worries, yep, yep, yep!” She nodded, very sure of herself as she shifted to leave the bushes. Littlefoot’s tail encircled her, pulling her back in. “Let me ask.” He said, gently. Ducky tilted her head, but nodded, following his lead. Petrie had been spectating from up above, not yet spotted by the Flyer, his head tilting at the sudden pause to the game. He fluttered down, landing on Littlefoot’s head. “Petrie help~! Good with talkin’ to Flyers.” Littlefoot gives him an odd look, before progressing toward the pair ahead of them.
Littlefoot wandered from the hiding place, Ruse squawking and chortling of amusement over Cera’s bucking and rearing of her horns and head overpowered by Littlefoot clearing his throat. “Ahem.” He was ending the game, and Ruse and Cera understood, slowing their bickering. Cera glared at Ruse, chuffing and sticking her nose in the air, before circling back to Littlefoot. Ruse returned her snooty behavior with his tongue, promptly stuck out in her general direction.
“Ruse, can we ask some questions?” He murmured, Ruse quirking his head to the side. “Q-Questions?” He laughed, his smile faltering.
“Why ask Ruse questions when we are having so much fun!”
“That’s just it, Ruse. I’m…” Littlefoot looked to the rest of the gang, “We’re wondering some things about you- You seem very nice but our parents told us not to talk or play with strangers…”
“Oh!” Ruse scoffed, waving one of his hands toward the five. “Well, Ruse is not a stranger! Ruse is Ruse! Come from Big Water!” “You’ve said that.” Littlefoot interjected, giving another weary smile. “Maybe Ruse can meet our parents! Then we not be as nervous to play!” Petrie spoke up, peeping over the conversation.
Ruse smiled even more so, though this time he seemed nervous, his brow knit, his hands gripping the grass beneath them. “Yes~! Ruse meet parents! Then Ruse not be so strange to you!”
Littlefoot nods, relief washing over him as he sighed. “Yes, that would be a good idea! Thank you Petrie!” He peeped up, looking up at his flying friend. Ruse watched as the five hurried off to find their respective parents, the Flyer sweating. “Ruse will be here!” He slowly sat, his tail tucking beneath his bottom as he did so.
Why did this always have to be so difficult…
The Bright Circle rose high over the rocky cliffs surrounding the Great Valley, it’s arms outstretched and touching the tips of the tree tops, before cascading down until it met with the snout of a rather eager young Apatosaurus, blinding him in his process of plucking Tree Stars from the higher branches above his stout head. Littlefoot was weary, slow in all movements other than the smacking of his own mouth. He was starving, and what Longneck wouldn’t be? After a deep slumber in the graces of his Grandparent’s presence, Littlefoot’s belly knew what it wanted, and it wanted a snack!
“Careful!” Grandpa teased him, tortling to himself as the little one tried his best to reach the higher leaves, much out of his little neck’s reach. “You might sprain something!”
With that, he leant down and rustled the higher up branches. Littlefoot huffed, pouting that his Granddad had fixed his predicament without allowing the little one to fight for what he wanted- but he could never stay mad for long. Grandpa was only helping, and if that meant making things easy for Littlefoot, especially eating times, then that’s precisely what he’d do.
It wasn’t until Grandma saw this that Grandpa stopped, giving a sheepish grin toward his wife. “Now, Grandpa, if he never learns you’ll be rustling the trees bare his entire life!” She hummed, her voice gentle but laced with a stern glint toward her spouse. Littlefoot, however, was far less interested in the bickering. He was far too busy stuffing himself with the delicious, fresh Tree Stars Grandpa had just provided, gobbling what he could before plopping his booty down on the grass and looking about himself for his friends. “May I please go play with Cera and the others?” He asked curiously, eager to find his pals and play another game.
“Well, I don’t see why not.” Grandpa nodded, looking to Grandma for approval, which she gave. “As long as you’re not hungry.” She added.
Before they even realized, Littlefoot was off, rushing over the hill as quickly as a little Apatosaurus could, tripping over his own legs as he looked back to his Grandparents and gave a sheepish grin. “I’ll find a snack if I do get hungry! Don’t worry!” He called.
The two elders chortled to each other. “Such speed, I remember being that fast when I was his age!” Grandpa commented, only for Grandma to give him a side eye. “What!”
“It’s just hard to imagine anything you do being quick~”
The pair exchanged another laugh, one that echoed through the hills and followed Littlefoot as he hurried along his way to find his friends.
“Cera!” He called, huffing and puffing as finally his speed began to waver, hustling down from Thundering Falls all the way to the western bank of the Great Valley, only pausing his trek when he heard the muffled giggles and grumbles from a familiar group of dinosaurs. “Guys! Where are you?” He called, approaching the sounds. They were seeping from beyond a patch of trees, in the center of which was a small clearing where some trees had fallen during the most recent thunderstorm.
The pines disguised much of the noise, but when Littlefoot finally found his way through the clearing, he spotted his friends, all speaking to someone settled atop a large stump, say for Ruby and Chomper. The figure was colorful, dressed in shades of burnt oranges and yellows, his wings a brown and his beak a bright tan shade. He looked like a walking circus, (not that Littlefoot or the other children knew what that was) his movements dramatic and theatrical, only pausing when they all looked up at Littlefoot.
“Littlefoot!” Petrie cried, fluttering off of Cera’s head and flitting toward his friend, landing on his big flat head. “Must meet our new friend! Comes all the way from Big Water!” He chimed, happily introducing the colorful, flying friend.
“Big Water?” Littlefoot nervously eyed the Flyer, curiosity overpowering the weariness he felt. Meeting strangers never panned out well for him, not that there was anything wrong with them… they just tended to be…
Confusing.
“Hello! Uh-” Littlefoot looked for the Flyer to fill him in on his name, which he proudly announced soon after. “RUSE! Ruse’s name is Ruse.” He didn’t just say his name, he said it 3 times, almost like he was talking about himself. How strange… Not even Petrie in his young age spoke exactly like that, he must really not be from around here.
“Ruse?” Littlefoot repeated, confused by the name. Even that sounded foreign to him. “That’s a- cool name- You come from the Big Water?”
“Yes, Ruse is very cool. Ruse is here to bring lotsa new fun! Ruse knows many games. Would Littlefoot like to play too?” He lifted his brow, eyeing the young Longneck. For a moment, Littlefoot contemplated on playing with a stranger, especially one so strange. His Grandparents were always so aware, recently highly weary over who he got along with, not that they judged like Cera’s dad. They were more so just trying to keep him safe, though- he supposed that’s just what Cera’s dad was doing, in his own way.
Not that that was an excuse to treat others badly. Littlefoot had to keep that in mind. It was not an excuse.
“I suppose!” He murmured, still a bit cautious. Cera picked up on this, also not in tune with whatever this strange Flyer had to offer, though her feelings stemmed from her father’s aggression and fear rather than true caution. “What are your games, anyways?” She asked, squinting down at Ruse. Ruse retorted with a cock of his colorful head, chortling up at her in defiance. “Ruse plays many games- but Ruse would rather show than tell, yes?” He hobbled, Littlefoot instantly picking up on the way the other walked. Instead of on two feet like Petrie’s Mom or Uncle, Ruse walked on all fours, favoring his right front leg as he scuttled off the stump and into the grass below him.
“I’d like to know more about you first-” Littlefoot wearily smiled, earning himself a side eye from Ruse. “What does Longneck want to know?”
“Well, uhm- h-how did you come to the Great Valley? Are you with anyone? And- why do you walk and talk like that?” These were all questions that could be answered, but Ruse, instead, turned toward the others and grinned.
“Let’s play Spy first, then Ruse tells all about himself.” He hummed. Littlefoot frowned deeply, but the others didn’t seem to notice, too enamored by the fowl’s promise of games.
“Ruse flies high in the air, Ruse pretends to hunt you- if Ruse spots you, you fall down and play dead!”
“That sounds stupid.” Cera said, rather annoyed. “Not stupid. If Threehorn has better games, Threehorn can play them with self!” He puffed up, before leaping into the air and fluttering up a few feet.
Ducky lunged at the idea of a new game, nodding excitedly, her hands pressed together. “I would very much like to play this new game, yes, yes, yes.” She insisted, giving Cera a wide eyed look. “But it would not be the same without Cera!” Cera returned with an uncomfortable, scrunched up expression, urged by those tearful, wet Swimmer eyes. “Fine!” She huffed, before stomping her way from the stump she had been sulking at. “I’ll play…”
Ruse gave a gleeful chirp. For a Flyer his size, he sure had a wingspan, picking up speed and lifting higher above the group. Littlefoot paused, peeking around. “Well, shouldn’t we wait for Ruby and Chomper?” He asked, only for Cera to roll her eyes. “He’s here now, if they’re still hunting stink bugs then I’d rather not wait!”
“Hide!” Ruse insisted, giggling. “Hide so Ruse can spot you!”
Littlefoot couldn’t help but raise his brows, but upon the rush of Ruse, he hustled to one of the various treelinings and began to hide, tucking his tail about his legs and waddling slowly through the underbrush. The rest of the children darted to hide. He swept down into the brush, through the trees, showing off his excellent, exotic acrobatics mid-air. He held his wings out straight, breaking on the air in order to slow his pace. They were all hidden, and Ruse gave them a moment to settle, before he spotted Spike’s tail peeking from a bush.
He came in hot, his big beak leaned back to peck at the big tubby Spiketail’s tail tip, yanking it so that he knew he had been caught. “SPY YOU!” He squawked, making poor Spike yelp and fall over onto his back. A laugh erupted from the Flyer, hurrying to lift off the ground again as Spike moaned out in annoyance, his poor tail crumpled toward him. Unknown to either, he had just toppled the big Spiketail straight onto Ducky, who was squeaking and flailing about beneath him. “Spike! Too heavy!” She barely got out, before he finally rolled off and gave a low murr in apology.
Ruse squawked, flying up into the air again, swooping toward the left where he had spotted a familiar yellow tail peeking from behind the bushes. Littlefoot crawled toward Ducky and Spike, whispering to them. “Did he say anything about where he came from before I arrived?” He asked, attempting to avoid being spotted by the Flyer. Ducky and Spike both shake their heads, looking toward each other curiously at the question. “No, he said he was from the Big Water, that he swims and eats fish so we don’t need to be afraid!” She assured, her little hand touching Littlefoot’s foot. “Why are you so asking, Littlefoot?” Ducky questioned. “Do you think he is not good?” She whispered this, cupping her hands to her duck billed mouth. Meanwhile, the Thalassodromeus flittered toward Cera, pulling on her tail with his back legs, giggling deviously. “Fat yellow one has been found!”
“FAT!!”
Cera’s voice shrieked, a snort erupting from her as she turned on her feet and rutted her horn toward the Flyer, making him yelp and scramble away. “DON’T call me FAT!” Ruse jumped again as she rammed her nose toward him again, more or less shuffling him toward the center of the clearing. “Ruse is sorry~!” He laughed, rolling over himself as he scuttled to avoid her horn. “Ruse won’t call you fat again~!”
Littlefoot leaned down toward Ducky. “I just think we should be careful…” He murmured, looking up toward Ruse and Cera bickering. “Last time we trusted an adult we didn’t know, well…it was Uncle Pterano.” He looked down to Ducky, who looked toward Spike. “Well, what if we ask him now! I think Ruse would understand our worries, yep, yep, yep!” She nodded, very sure of herself as she shifted to leave the bushes. Littlefoot’s tail encircled her, pulling her back in. “Let me ask.” He said, gently. Ducky tilted her head, but nodded, following his lead. Petrie had been spectating from up above, not yet spotted by the Flyer, his head tilting at the sudden pause to the game. He fluttered down, landing on Littlefoot’s head. “Petrie help~! Good with talkin’ to Flyers.” Littlefoot gives him an odd look, before progressing toward the pair ahead of them.
Littlefoot wandered from the hiding place, Ruse squawking and chortling of amusement over Cera’s bucking and rearing of her horns and head overpowered by Littlefoot clearing his throat. “Ahem.” He was ending the game, and Ruse and Cera understood, slowing their bickering. Cera glared at Ruse, chuffing and sticking her nose in the air, before circling back to Littlefoot. Ruse returned her snooty behavior with his tongue, promptly stuck out in her general direction.
“Ruse, can we ask some questions?” He murmured, Ruse quirking his head to the side. “Q-Questions?” He laughed, his smile faltering.
“Why ask Ruse questions when we are having so much fun!”
“That’s just it, Ruse. I’m…” Littlefoot looked to the rest of the gang, “We’re wondering some things about you- You seem very nice but our parents told us not to talk or play with strangers…”
“Oh!” Ruse scoffed, waving one of his hands toward the five. “Well, Ruse is not a stranger! Ruse is Ruse! Come from Big Water!” “You’ve said that.” Littlefoot interjected, giving another weary smile. “Maybe Ruse can meet our parents! Then we not be as nervous to play!” Petrie spoke up, peeping over the conversation.
Ruse smiled even more so, though this time he seemed nervous, his brow knit, his hands gripping the grass beneath them. “Yes~! Ruse meet parents! Then Ruse not be so strange to you!”
Littlefoot nods, relief washing over him as he sighed. “Yes, that would be a good idea! Thank you Petrie!” He peeped up, looking up at his flying friend. Ruse watched as the five hurried off to find their respective parents, the Flyer sweating. “Ruse will be here!” He slowly sat, his tail tucking beneath his bottom as he did so.
Why did this always have to be so difficult…
)
I thought I'd make one of these to pass some time! Not sure how they work, but I'd love to give it a go! Ask me anything! (Even about my ocs!)
), since Mo-o-o still enjoy reading what you have to say about the characters overall. For some reason... Mo-o-o had predicted before the swimmer OC reveal that it wasn't actually gonna be a bellydragger for Koen's partner, but another swimmer species. I was right, yes! 
Welcome to the Gang of Five forums!! Lovely to have you here!
