For some reason, I remember something like this being up not to long ago, but when I search for it it's not there... nor do I remember what I am searching for.

But, while I was watching Mysterious Island, the beginning struck me - when the Gang is watching the last tree star and are arguing over who should get it. Cera says, as she walks up to the tree. "I think it should go to, say, the oldest."
Littlefoot protests, "But that's you!"
Cera grins. "I know."

So technically, Cera is the eldest of the Gang, not Ducky, which was what I originally thought - seeing her as the first to hatch.
P.S. if there is a thread like this feel free to delete this and don't forget to redirect me to the original discussion

I finally decided (albeit still mulling it over...) to write up a few narrations on the daily life of my OC's...
Hooray *waves weakly*
Anyway.... Heeeeerrrrrreeeee's Da Ferst Paht!!  

Hadley

   Hadley rolled his eyes. How long had he been in this stupid meeting? A mini-eternity springs first to mind, he thought, rather spitefully. By the Smoking Mountains! We’ve discussed this whole episode ten times at least. When can I leave?

   The Different-Claw had been rudely, and literally, dragged out of his sleeping place in the high cave he shared with his flyer friend, Keirra, by a mob of angry Bigmouths, who had claimed he started a stampede earlier that morning. Which he, in fact did. But it hadn’t really been his fault. He had just been out walking at an hour before the Bright Circle rose, and had just happened to step on a ground hive of Buzzing Stingers, which in turn just happened to make him flip, so of course the first thing he naturally would do is to run, like the hide he prized depended on it, right past the bewildered, bleary-eyed Bigmouths, who had been wakened by the sound of his yells.

   Hadley conveniently left out that one small fact that he had known just where the Buzzing Stinger nest was, and had made sure to run directly past the nesting dinosaurs. He smirked quietly to himself. If only they’d seen their faces. The Different-Claw shook his head.

   Topps the Three-Horn, one of the prosecutors in this case, glowered at the smirking fast-biter mimic. “Well, I think he did it on purpose!” He stomped the ground, challengingly. Hadley fixed the three-horn with a weary frown, appearing like an innocent victim of circumstance and the Council was wasting his time. Hadley caught sight of one of his friends, Dante the blue Claw Hand, among the throng, looking very tired and extremely nervous.

   Dante wasn’t much one for crowds. A relative newcomer to the Valley, the Claw Hand had been found a couple seasons ago by one of the residents, a flyer by name of Pterano. Dante had been unconscious, with a fractured right leg and was bleeding freely from slash marks all over his body from a Fastclaw attack. Now that he was recuperated, he still walked with a limp, since his leg hadn’t healed the right way. The Claw Hand had been invited to join the Council as Dante had proven to the grownups of the Valley that he was an avid problem solver, and quite level-headed. The only thing the Council should have taken into account was that Dante abhorred debating, as well as public speaking, and the Council was something that combined the two. Hadley couldn’t help but give his friend a coy little wink after noticing his annoyed expression.

   Topps growled deep in his throat. If that was supposed to be a threat, it was wasted on the indifferent Hadley, who merely gave an impudent snort right back at his prosecutor. Grandpa Longneck, the admirable-and-by-default Head of the Council (possibly even of the Great Valley, in Hadley’s opinion), sighed and cleared his throat, indicating it was time to come to a verdict.

   “Now, we have stripped this story to its bare bones, and the defendant, Hadley, insists it was an accident that drove him by your herd’s nests.” The longneck turned to the group of Bigmouths, who reluctantly agreed. Grandpa turned back to Topps. “And if we have no further need of debating, then I suggest we call this meeting to an end.” He looked around at the assembled dinosaurs. Some were grumbling, some were indecisive, but the majority was nodding. Probably not for Hadley’s sake, though. It was still pretty early in the morning, and the Different Claw noticed, with intense amusement, that the Council was headed directly back to their nests after the verdict was reached.

   Soon, he was alone at the Stone Arch, apart from Dante. The blue Claw Hand limped slowly over, joining up with Hadley in the middle.

   Dante sighed. “I probably shouldn’t even ask you, right?”

   Hadley winked again as he turned around, indicating that Dante walk with him. “Of course not, as I said,” he crossed his heart. “I was an innocent victim of the moment.” The gleeful smile on his face proved otherwise. Dante rolled his eyes.
=====

Ohh, you wasawy wabbit-troodon-Stenonychosaurus!
  Enjoy!

Hey, Y'all, wow I've been so inactive here as of late, rest assured, I am alive and kicking... very weakly and without much effort, but kicking nonetheless^^

Thought I'd give you all a taste of my average art talents, if you're interested. Show of hands? XD lol



Soooo, Pterano in action! TKD is da choice form of Martial arts for flyers

And here I guess I have a chance to show of my average writing skills^^
This is my first LBT fanfic!

==
   Pterano meant no harm, really. All he wanted was a chance, a chance to prove that no job was too big for him, a chance to convince everyone he was capable of being a leader. But, that wasn’t how it had turned out, much like all of his schemes. He was still regarded as a ne’er-do-well, a wild, crazy flyer who never thought things through; a pompous, stuck-up, self-centered jerk with absolutely no sense of responsibility. Pterano snorted in mid-air, staring gloomily ahead into the dusky horizon as the Bright Circle lowered itself before her sister circle took over her nightly duties.

   It had only been a little over a month since his banishment, but already, it had seemed to Pterano that he had waited out over five cold times in the Mysterious Beyond. He was still with the far walkers, figuring it better to stick with greater numbers while he abided to his punishment. Now they were traveling along dry plains. Water and food here were scarce, but thankfully, the place where they were resting for the night happened to bear a considerable amount of green food. Pterano had cut off from the group upon entering this oasis and settled himself in a tree a ways off. It wasn’t that he disliked the company, but he had been feeling rather restless on the road and preferred to keep to himself. The other far walkers gave him a wide berth under these circumstances; really, under any circumstances. Pterano wasn’t very popular around here, but the old flyer didn’t really mind. It gave him time to think: about his banishment… about that idiotic Stone… about Rinkus and Sierra, his two henchmen that he hadn’t seen since his banishment and hoped he never would.

   Rinkus and Sierra, Pterano mused absently. Rinkus was naive, borderline clueless, and easily manipulated. Pterano wouldn’t hesitate to land a hard whack on Rinkus’ head for some stupid idea or action, but Sierra was different. Nearly matching Pterano in height, wingspan, but being at least six seasons younger and bearing an awful temper, Sierra made a nasty foe. Pterano remembered one such incident when the two had a disagreement, which quickly escalated to a full-blown duel. Both of them ended up winded and nearly knocked senseless from repeated wing-blows, but Sierra, youth still somewhat on his side, kept getting up and coming back harder until Rinkus leapt in-between the dueling flyers and insisted they stop. Pterano couldn’t help shaking one nagging thought: Sierra had nearly beaten him. But aside from all the drama, Rinkus and Sierra had made good enough stooges.

   Then the two had ditched him when he had returned to the Great Valley to seek the strange new Stone of Cold Fire. He blamed those ratty Rainbow Faces for spinning all that fancy-talk about the oh-so-magical-and-wonderful stone. Tripe! It was all frivolous tripe, and he was an idiot for listening. But he couldn’t forget that feeling he had, that stirring deep within his gut, that churning desire to go after that stone and claim its powers for himself.

   Well, that plan had worked out fabulously. Not only had Rinkus and Sierra turned their backs on him at the last possible moment, but the Stone had also turned out to be a fake. Pterano sighed, hidden within his wings. Nothing had changed for him: he was still banished, but his sentence had been reduced somewhat. ëFive cold times’ is reduced? Well, at least he had been forgiven. And by whom? That oaf Topps still hates my guts, and I’m pretty sure Old Man Longneck would have rather my sentence be a lot longer.

   Pterano’s eyebrows lowered in a pensive frown. Had there been any good that had come out of that episode…? Of course, seeing his nephews and nieces again! In their eyes, he was a hero; a brave and bold individual. Most of all, to little Petrie. A minute grin tugged at the corner of his beak. Petrie, his favorite nephew, still believed in him. The little flyer was convinced that Pterano, regardless of the fact that he had a hand in that little swimmer Ducky’s kidnapping (and not to mention that long-ago episode of leading half the herd into a deadly nest of fastbiters; the reason he was banished in the first place) could still change for the better. He had witnessed it himself, when his uncle had saved Ducky from a perilous fall.

   Obviously, having ëgood’ inside you is not enough. Pterano grunted. But what else can I do to show them?
==

Tadaah!

Edit: I edited the title of this thread at StrutEggStealer's request.