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LBT Fanfiction / Re: We Will Hold On Forever
« on: September 09, 2018, 09:09:29 AM »
FF.net link: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12535668/13/We-Will-Hold-On-Forever
--
Tria stepped back. Cera and Tricia sat next to Mr. Threehorn as they watched him sternly instruct his mate on how to attack the boulder that had inexplicably rolled into this clearing far from any mountains long ago. Tricia sat on Cera’s foreleg, the sisters chewing leaves almost in tune as the three watched Tria.
Taking a deep breath, Tria charged and her horns crashed into the boulder. There was a spray of rocks and gravel. Shaking her head, Tria backed away and they assessed the damage. So far, less than a quarter of the boulder had been broken, pieces ranging from the size of Cera’s horn to her head scattered about. Tria panted, sweat tracing lines in the dust on her hide.
“Ah, I see the training bug’s catching.”
Verter strolled in, giving a nod to Mr. Threehorn. Chomper followed in the former’s wake. He waved to Cera and Tricia, but didn’t get any closer. With Tricia so young, they didn’t want to leave her with the impression it was okay to approach sharpteeth. Mr. Threehorn looked up and smiled. Cera thought his gaze lingered on Chomper’s few cuts and bruises, but his eyes flicked back to Verter so fast she wondered if she imagined it.
“You could say that, Verter.” Mr. Threehorn greeted. “I think she’s doing fair so far.”
Verter examined Tria’s handiwork. “What’s with the training interest all of a sudden?”
“Well, you heard about our family’s penchant for danger.” Tria said, stepping back. “After one too many near misses, I thought my husband shouldn’t do most of the fighting. If even Cera and Chomper are contributing, I shouldn’t be standing by.”
Verter watched as she backed a few paces and rammed into the boulder again, spraying more rocks onto the ground.
“Well, good luck with that.” He smiled. “Cera, come on. It’s time for us to work up a sweat.”
“Okay.” Cera said, reluctantly pulling her foot from Tricia as she stood.
“Oh, don’t be in a rush, Verter.” Mr. Threehorn waved his head invitingly. “Sit down. Press the grass.”
“I’m afraid I can’t waste time.” Verter said. “To prepare for this threat, these two need to get trained as quickly as possible.”
“I know, but it feels like a waste for you to be here and we don’t spend any time together. Shouldn’t we at least catch up a little?”
Verter hesitated. He smiled. “Well…for old time’s sake. Cera, Chomper, jog around the clearing while me and papa threehorn have a chat.”
“Alright.” Chomper said. “Come on, Cera.”
“Don’t ‘come on, Cera’ me.” Cera said. “I’ll lead the way.”
Chomper laughed but waved for her to walk alongside him.
“Tria, get used to ramming the boulder at that angle,” Mr. Threehorn said.
“Right, Topsy.”
As she and Chomper walked away, Cera couldn’t help glancing back. Tria had retreated and rammed the boulder again and then again, blue eyes unusually sharp. Cera winced. Tria was so sweet, so joyful in life’s little pleasures. It didn’t feel right she was throwing this much seriousness into learning how to protect them. It was only another sign of how abnormal everything had become. Shaking herself, Cera joined Chomper in working up for a morning jog.
Verter sat beside Mr. Threehorn. For a moment, they allowed the sound of Tria’s grunts and the crackle of the boulder to wash over them, soon joined by the fading in and out of Cera and Chomper’s footsteps and panting. Tricia padded over and leaned on Mr. Threehorn’s foreleg, closing her eyes at the contact.
“Your wit was missed yesterday.” Mr. Threehorn said finally. “It would have made the situation with Mr. Clubtail more tolerable.”
“If I did that, I might have hit a nerve and been accused of not taking the situation seriously.” Verter said. “You know the situation. I have to train those two.”
Mr. Threehorn nodded, watching Tria work. “How are they doing?”
“I told you yesterday. It’s only a first day but they are doing splendid. I’ve rarely seen children so young be so dedicated.” Verter smirked. “What, losing your memory at your old age?”
“No. Just,” Mr. Threehorn continued staring ahead, “Cera let slip about the vine you use yesterday.”
Verter frowned. “Topps…”
“Don’t see this as an issue of trust. It’s only natural we would check on our daughter after training. Though whipping…it seem we were right to be worried.”
“That is just to urge them on.” Verter said. “I’m not actually hitting them.”
“But we noticed some markings on her. And Chomper as well.” Mr. Threehorn replied. “This isn’t something we expected with the training you were talking about.”
“I just need to get back into the groove of using the vine. You remember our training when we were younger, harshness like that is normal.”
“But we agreed it wouldn’t be this harsh. They are children, they have limits. And I see how tired you are making them. You’re giving them the proper amounts of breaks, right?”
“I am.” Verter said. “Of course the first few days would be exhausting. They just need some time to acclimate to the routine.”
“I know. Still…” Mr. Threehorn sighed. “We didn’t know all the details. Maybe we were too quick to agree to this.”
Verter raised his head. “Are seriously thinking of calling this off?”
Mr. Threehorn met his eye. “I would if my daughter and her friend are at risk.”
“Since when was Chomper your child?” Verter said. “Will you indulge in their short-term comfort to push aside their long term needs?”
“I’m thinking about their long term wellbeing.” Mr. Threehorn said. “You weren’t exactly honest about the level of training this would be.”
“I thought we agreed on the level of training. Friends should trust each other, Topps. Is this one of Tria’s silly whims?”
“No, I share her worries. If Cera and Chomper are at risk, we might have to put a stop to this.”
Verter got to his feet. “That’s irresponsible!”
Mr. Threehorn stood up as well. “What would be irresponsible is letting two children take on responsibilities that are above them!”
“Is it really responsible to let a sharptooth child live here undisciplined and not have them be prepared when the killer could strike at any second?!”
They glared at each other, tense and ready to lock horns. Then a voice called near Mr. Threehorn’s foot. Tricia was pawing at her father, looking between him and Verter nervously and warbling pleadingly. Verter watched as Mr. Threehorn’s anger started out of him and he lowered his head to trace his muzzle across her side.
“You – you have a point.” Mr. Threehorn sighed. “Chomper does needs to be kept in check. And with this killer around and how adventures the children can be, they need to be prepared. I don’t like it but it’s necessary. This must be the parent in me talking. It can override the thinking part of my brain.”
Verter looked at him with surprise. “Well, that was quick. I didn’t expect you to give in so quickly.”
“Tricia woke me up.” Mr. Threehorn nuzzled her again, her little form relaxing and curling against him. “I didn’t want to start a fight while my youngest daughter was underfoot.”
There had been an abating in the rock cracking and Tria looked at them in concern.
“Everything alright over there?” she called.
“Don’t worry, we’ve settled things.” Mr. Threehorn replied. “Just go back to doing what you’re doing.”
Tria still looked uncertain but she nodded and went back to ramming her boulder. Verter watched Mr. Threehorn, something flickering in his expression.
“Hmm.” Verter sat down. “You sure have changed. I still remember a time you would be willing to fight no matter the time or place to deal with a spoiled upstart.”
“I know.” Mr. Threehorn’s lips twitched. “I still get the urge now and then but at my age, I need to choose my battles.”
“I can understand the sentiment. At our age, you have to become more thoughtful about conflict.” Verter smirked. “Youth was a simpler time. Remember that time someone said you passed the Threehorn Ascension test on a fluke? Oh, did you show him.”
“Yeah.” Mr. Threehorn smirked. “I plowed him into the ground. It was so satisfying to see him get up embarrassed.”
“Right?” Verter chuckled. “Oh, and there was that time an idiot challenged us on a route to a green glen. No matter what we said, he insisted he was right. After a long day of fighting, it was great to see you bend his horns and make him squeal in surrender.”
“It sure was. Oh, the faces he made when we made him eat the least appetizing green food at the glen. Priceless.” Mr. Threehorn chuckled. “Oh, do you also remember how I won a contest of strength? The guy was overconfident but I overpowered him and kept him from getting up until he admitted I was the stronger one. Seeing the look of humiliation on his face was worth all the cuts and bruises that came with fighting him.”
Verter and Mr. Threehorn laughed, old and familiar as they went through fond memories.
“I hear you still fight from time to time.” Verter said. “I’m sure you can keep up the good work.”
“Maybe.” Mr. Threehorn looked away. “But that is frowned upon around here. With so many different kinds and ways, we usually have to talk out our problems.”
“Oh, that’s rough.” Verter said, sympathetic. “To be faced with an absolute moron and not be able to do anything but argue them into submission must be torture.”
“No kidding.” Mr. Threehorn sighed. “Still, at least my daughters don’t have to be exposed to that kind of violence. They can enjoy life here without having to worry about a fight breaking out or seeing blood spilled.”
“Hmm.” Verter watched Tria crack into the boulder, leaving less than half of it left. He smiled. “Well, we saw a lot of fighting as kids and turned out alright.”
Mr. Threehorn snorted. “I’m not sure alright’s the right word. I still remember the blood my mother spilled to protect her territory. And what the herd leader did to that one guy…I’m amazed we had any childhood at all.”
“We still got up to a lot of mischief.” Verter chuckled, looking up in reminiscence. “The stunts you would pull even during the Time of the Great Growing…there was that time you raced the other guys and tricked them into jumping into a mud pool. Oh, the grownups would be mad when they caught us.”
“If they caught us.” Mr. Threehorn smirked. “I don’t think they ever found out why the water turned them blue.”
Verter nodded. “I can’t forget one time in my youth when I attempted to push some rocks uphill, they rolled off and almost hit some kids downhill. Oh, did I get hit behind the tail when the grownups found out.”
Mr. Threehorn winced. “Yeah, I got some of that when I was young. There was worse during the Time of Great Growing. Grownups weren’t very forgiving back then. It was understandable. Those were harsh times and to maintain order, there had to have consequences you would remember. ”
“Yes.” Verter nodded with satisfaction. “You could be harsh to anyone who crossed the line and everyone knew their place. It was tough but we lived it. I’m sure your daughters would’ve been fine in that environment.”
“Maybe.” Mr. Threehorn frowned. “I don’t regret a lot of what happened. But it’s good the valley doesn’t need to deal with that kind of violence.”
“But can you see those times were better, even with the pain, even with-”
“There were good times,” Mr. Threehorn interrupted, “but they have ended. All that harsh behavior was to survive but in the valley, that isn’t necessary. In some ways, I’m glad. Now my family can lead better lives than we had.”
“I see.” Verter said. He was looking away. “Well, it’s good to have a life where your family can relax. That has…value.” He got to his feet. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to be off.”
“What?” Mr. Threehorn double-taked. “Oh, oh. Well, don’t let me keep you. Look after Cera and Chomper for us.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure they’re well taken care of.” Verter looked back. “Good luck with training that mate of yours. Your daughter might be a bit late getting home but I’ll be sure she arrives before sleepy-bye time.”
“Sure. I know I’ve annoyed you with our concerns but thanks for all you’re doing Verter.”
There was a nod and a flicker of a smile but Verter was already walking away, calling for Cera and Chomper to jog with him back to the fighting grounds. For a second, Mr. Threehorn’s eyes lingered on their distancing figures, at a loss for the abrupt departure. A crackle made him turn. Tria had stepped back, catching her breath, the boulder in front of her reduced to more than a quarter of its size. Shifting, he forced a smile and tried to focus.
“Good going, Tria. Next strategy. How about-”
While Mr. Threehorn may have taken his eyes off Verter, someone else hadn’t. Sitting atop a high pine, Don watched Verter jog by with his panting charges. Barely paying attention to the two gossiping flyers on a branch below, he gripped his mount harder.
“For Wing Father’s sake,” Don said, “you’d better not harm them.”
--
“Just a little higher. Yeah, that’s the way.”
Littlefoot laughed as he jumped along. Patty was carefully swinging the tip of her tail over Littlefoot’s feet in slow, relaxed loops. He stumbled a bit at the next pass but upon Patty’s concerned look, he shook his head and motioned for her to continue.
They were at another location. They still stood in the open but near the Great Wall. There was a thick line of bright green trees and bushes pressed into that area but there wasn’t any room for more than a rainbowface-sized dinosaur to hide in. With their view of the rest of their surroundings, only interrupted by the occasional skinny tree or collection of bushes, Patty assured it would be safe spot to play.
After practicing a bit with jumping over their own tails that morning, they decided to move on to jumping over people’s tail. Practicing with Patty’s tail, Littlefoot was now back to tripping again. He wasn’t surprised. Having to coordinate with someone else’s tail was more challenging than coordinating with your own. Still, Littlefoot was making some progress and he was having a good time.
“Good, good.” Patty continued as she swished her tail. “You’re a quick learner.”
“That’s because – I have – a good teacher.” Littlefoot panted, after each jump. “Thanks for being – patient with me.”
“You don’t need to keep thanking me. I’m only doing what I want. Besides, I had a lot of time to be patient and…”
She trailed off. Littlefoot found himself staggering as the tail stopped behind him. Seeing her gaze fixed toward the line of trees, Littlefoot turned. Two cresthead swimmers were shoving each other as they darted between the trees, creaking tree limbs ominously as they pushed them aside. Even as he watched, they broke off two thick branches billowing with greens and laughed as they swung them at one another, nearly unbalancing as their feet caught on a root and stomped bushes flat. Patty’s mouth became thin.
“What are you doing? Don’t be careless with the plants!”
The cresthead swimmers stopped their mock duel, the leaves of their makeshift weapons pressing into the grass as they glanced at Patty with confusion.
“What’s your problem, lady?” One cresthead asked.
“You shouldn’t be wasting food like that.” Patty said. “With the branches you broke, there will be less leaves to grow on the trees and bushes.”
The other cresthead scrunched his nose. “Don’t get so bent out of shape. There’s plenty of green food in the valley. Breaking a few branches isn’t going to hurt anyone.”
“But it’s those small actions imitated by so many others that can endanger a valley, especially when scarcity comes.” Patty stepped forward. “Get some sense and have fun in less destructive ways.”
The crestheads examined her, annoyed. Then they jumped as an angry female voice rang out in the distance.
“Hey, did I say you boys can run off? Come back! Did you already forget there’s a killer on the loose?”
Looking a mix of scared and mutinous, one looked at his companion.
“C’mon Cory,” he said. “We can’t stick around.”
“Yeah. We weren’t going to have fun around here anyway.” Cory grimaced, throwing his branch to the ground. “Freaking newbies.”
His companion also dropping a branch, the pair hassled off toward the voice. Patty’s gaze burned after them. Concerned, Littlefoot stepped closer.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“I’m …” Patty took a breath, closing her eyes and opening them to reveal calm. “Sorry for snapping. After seeing everyone scraping for a living in the Mysterious Beyond, it makes me mad to see people waste.”
“Hey, I get it.” Littlefoot replied. “I still remember living in the Mysterious Beyond. I cringe whenever I see someone crush a bush or topple a tree.”
She grimaced. “I’m amazed this valley still has greens available with that kind of attitude. Has there been any food crises?”
“Oh, a few. Not caused by people being careless but I’m sure that didn’t help. The Thundering Falls block up, the swarming leaf gobblers, the white sparkles during cold times…but the valley always bounces back.”
“Really?” Patty widened an eye. “After all of that, the valley is always plentiful, even with that behavior around?”
Littlefoot shrugged helplessly. “There just always seems to be enough. After a disaster, it takes only a few night circle cycles to recover. Sometimes it takes a cold time but it always gets better. I always just accepted it but now that you mention it,” he frowned, “it is strange.”
Patty looked around, considering their surroundings. An understanding came into her eyes.
“Is this one of those places?” she murmured. “So it really is as said…”
“You have an idea what it’s about?” Littlefoot asked.
“I’ve heard a theory. I didn’t believe it but…” Patty said. “You know dinosaurs can shape the environment, right?”
“Uh, yeah.” Littlefoot said, puzzled. “That was why you were so mad at those two. If we break too many plants, we could break the valley.”
“Those are physical influences. I’ve also heard,” she shifted, “beliefs and emotions can impact the environment.”
Littlefoot tilted his head. Patty stood taller, circling on the spot and waving her head.
“Look around you,” she said. “What do you see? A great number of dinosaurs, most recent arrivals but more than a few I guess who’ve lived here for generations, eating, relaxing, and enjoying their lives in the valley.”
“Not recently.” Littlefoot looked around. “These ghosts have got everyone spooked and with this killer…”
Patty winced. “A-anyway, I’d guess the normal mood around here is contentment. There has been a consistent population of happy dinosaurs here for a long time. But most of the world isn’t like that. Most don’t stay in one place long enough for an impact to be made and their emotions aren’t usually strong enough to effect the environment. However, if enough people stay long enough in one location, their emotions can seep in and begin to influence the area.”
“But if I’m in a good mood, that isn’t strong enough to effect things,” he said. “I mean, I can’t make a flower bloom by smiling at it.”
“As much as I want you to believe in yourself, you’re probably right.” She smiled. “But it’s more than that. Normally, it’s hard to get everyone to feel a certain way consistently but with the Great Valley, there is a good reason for them to be content. There is enough green food to go around and they rarely have to worry about sharpteeth. After dinosaurs first settled here, this must have elicited a strong sense of goodwill. And when that seeped into the earth, the next time the plants grew back, it would be just a little faster and the sharpteeth would find it a little harder to get in. That maintains the good will. Before long, that good will sinks back in and the green food grows even faster, and so on and so forth, continuing the cycle. It’s the kind of thing that can keep this place going.”
For several moments, there was a thoughtful silence. Patty was watching her surroundings, impressed by the existence of this place. Distantly, there was the sound of a stern voice telling off two kids. Dinosaurs continued to pass and lol around. A twocrest walked by with a spikeback, saying. “I can’t believe that rumor is being spread. People are suspicious enough of visiting herds without someone stirring up trouble.”
“Huh.” Littlefoot said. “That is an interesting theory.”
Patty gave him a wry look. “You don’t believe me, do you?”
“It’s not that.” Littlefoot said quickly. “It’s just I don’t know either way. There are a lot of unbelievable things I hear about but I like to keep an open mind. You’d have to ask Cera, she’s the disbelieving one. It does explain why the valley rarely has a serious food problem.”
He looked around and his mood lowered.
“I wish those who didn’t make it like Mother could see what the valley looked like,” he said. “So many of us had no idea what such a place really had to offer and I had my ideas but they didn’t compare to actually being here for the first time. Some even doubted the valley would be this good. Mother said she could see it with her heart but if she and others could see it like I did, I’m sure they’d be amazed,” he sighed. “Well, there’s nothing we can do about it now.”
Patty watched him sympathetically. “It must hurt there are people you couldn’t help.”
“Kind of, yeah. Looking back, there were many people we passed on our way to the valley who were clearly struggling. I feel guilty we didn’t stop to help. I mean, were all trying to survive on our own and squabbling over food and water. If only everyone could have stopped fighting and worked together to get to the Great Valley, then they might have made it.”
Littlefoot lowered his head. Patty gave him a brief nuzzle.
“I didn’t mean to bring up such painful thoughts,” she said. “You did wonderfully with what’s possible.”
“I know.” Littlefoot sighed. “I wish it wasn’t like this…but I know.”
Patty sighed. “Sometimes we have to make hard decisions in order to survive.”
Littlefoot averted his gaze. “And sometimes we make decisions that make you really question what you can do.”
Patty looked at him speculatively, and he realized how strange that response sounded. Hastily, he shook his head.
“Anyway, let’s get back to tail jumping,” he said. “That’s better than talking about this depressing stuff, right?”
Patty examined him before smiling. “Right. I don’t know if this talk counts as rest but I think we regained enough energy to resume.”
“Yeah. Though I’m a little hungry.” Littlefoot glanced at the line of trees. “Say, why don’t we eat from plants those crestheads messed up. It would make sure the food isn’t wasted.”
“That’s a wonderful idea. Though you have your fill. I don’t need any.”
“Really?” Littlefoot glanced at her with confusion. “You’ve been really working at it with your tail. That must take some energy.”
“I’m fine.” Patty insisted. “I ate enough this morning before meeting up with you. I know how to eat in a way to make it really last. I can always eat later.”
Littlefoot tilted his head. “Okay. You rarely seem tired.”
A smile flickered on her muzzle. “Let’s say I’m very good at being on the go. Though speaking of those on the go…”
“What?” Littlefoot asked.
Patty hesitated but shook her head and smiled. “Never mind. It’s not important now. Anyway, eat up. I’ll be practicing the right speed to spin my tail until you get yourself filled up.”
Puzzled, Littlefoot nevertheless nodded, dragged a branch over, and started feasting, his thoughts far from the worries of the day and more toward the fun that carefully spinning tail promised.
--
“Hit that rock, come on, really hit it!”
Cera staggered back from her latest strike before shaking herself and rushing forward. She and Chomper were back in the fighting grounds, practicing against new rocks. Only the murmurs of passersby broke their solitude, those fighters from yesterday having never showed up. She concentrated on damaging the rock in front her with as few strikes as possible. She thought she was making some progress. More parts of the rock were breaking away with each hit. Maybe she was on a good wind or the rock was weak but she couldn’t help but be pleased by the results.
There was a smack beside her. “Ow!”
Cera glanced to her right as she walked backwards. Chomper had hit the rock with his muzzle and cried out, blinking as he stepped back and touched a cut under his left nostril. He winced.
“Chomper, is that the best you got?” Verter cried.
Chomper shook his head and glared at the rock before almost launching himself for the latest strike. She bit back a sigh. Chomper had been throwing his all into the training ever since it started. Though he got tired and even hurt a few times, he always got back up, insisting they continue. Really, Cera was impressed. His kind, almost naïve nature belied a brave soul willing to do anything for those he cared about. It was understandable Verter would want to nurture it.
Though did he have to give all of his attention to Chomper?
“Harder, Chomper! Go at it like it’s your most hated enemy!”
Cera glared as she prepared to charge again. She glimpsed Verter staring in Chomper’s direction, barely looked her way. She struggled with the mixed feelings in her stomach. Really, it made sense Verter mightn’t be giving her much focus. Cera was a born threehorn, used to this kind of hard work and repetition. Chomper on the other hand had rarely dealt with anything like these threehorn exercises and they were unfamiliar with the sharptooth routine. It was understandable Verter would put more focus in learning about Chomper and encouraging him onward. As yesterday’s talk showed, Verter had at least some method for his eccentricities. He would get back to her eventually. Even if Cera understood, that didn’t mean she had to like it.
In the hubbub of pebbles and fragments bursting from her rock, she heard a similar rocky crackle beside her.
“Harder, harder!”
Cera heard a growl of frustration. Backing up for the umpteenth time, she lowered her head and charged at her fastest rate yet. There was an almighty crack and much of the rock crumbled. A few twinges of pain in her face and horn made her wince but she only felt pride until she heard the scream.
“Aaah!”
Cera jerked around. Chomper lay curled near his rock, gripping his head while rock fragments were dotted around him. Heart skipping, she scampered over and swept away the debris to look him over.
“Chomper, are you okay?” she demanded. “Chomper!”
Chomper groaned. “Hurts. My head hurts!”
A look up confirmed he managed to knock some decent bits off his rock but at the cost of a red sore and some scrapes on his head. Gritting her teeth, Cera glared up as Verter rumbled over.
“What are you playing at?” she snapped. “You’re egging him on got him hurt!”
Wincing, Verter looked away. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know what his limits were.”
“I thought you knew how to handle training others!”
“I said I know how to train adult threehorns. I don’t know much about sharpteeth.”
Chomper rocked on the ground, hands on temples. “Hurts…”
Cera sighed and glanced down. “You at least know how to treat wounds?”
Verter nodded. “That is simple enough. I’ll be right back.”
He ran off, leaving her to stand awkwardly beside Chomper, who lay curled in a ball. A part of her felt guilty she ever had an envious thought about him. She tried to be reasonable about Verter in her head, that training was naturally dangerous and everyone made mistakes, but she couldn’t help a smidgen of doubt opening in her stomach. With the sound of ripping branches and splashes in the background, Cera moved a paw as though to stroke him but with how he winced thought better of it. Verter charged back in.
“Put these on his wounds.” Verter dropped wet leaves beside her. “They’ll clean them and the cool will calm him.”
Cera nodded. She grabbed one leaf with her mouth to put on Chomper’s head but he pulled away.
“I’m alright. Let’s continue training.”
“Are you serious?” she asked. “Those cuts are bad. They need to be treated.”
“But we can’t waste time. I must keep going.”
”If you collapse from your wounds, you won’t be able to keep training at all.” Cera said impatiently. “Where would that leave us? Now sit still and take it.”
Chomper sighed but stayed still as told, twitching as a wet leaf stung into his head wound and a few other smaller cuts. She layered others on, making him look like he wore a wet green mushroom on his head. Verter sighed.
“I guess now would be a good a time as any to take a break,” he said. “We’ll eat until Chomper’s healed enough to continue. Can you carry him to the forest edge, Cera?”
“If I must.” Cera turned to stare Chomper in the eye. “Don’t even think about saying that you can walk. You are riding me and don’t make a fuss. Understand?”
“Okay, okay.” Chomper said, sulky. “Guess I have to be bossed around.”
Ignoring that remark, Cera leaned in and Verter helped shift Chomper onto her back. He was heavier than Ducky or Petrie but it was weight she could handle. She walked with steady steps as she followed Verter to the edge, where he got them into the shade and started looking around.
“Don’t move,” he said. “I’ll forage for food.”
“Sorry I’m making you look for bugs.” Chomper muttered.
“It’s nothing.” Verter assured. “You’re too valuable to deny a meal. Finding bugs is no big deal.”
He began browsing the area, faint foot booms shushed as he paused and visually traced the outlines of the leaves, the bark of the trees, the silhouette of the grass. Cera sat down, taking this opportunity to relax. She glanced at Chomper. He sat slumped next to her, frustrated eyes looking at the earth. This was concerning. Chomper was a happy, sweet-tempered child and this level of anger was beyond him. She glanced at him, hesitated, but took the chance.
“You were really going at it with that rock,” she said.
“We’re supposed to go hard on them.” Chomper said. “That’s what this training is about.”
“But you were going at it like it insulted your mommy. Hard to train when acting like that.”
Verter chuckled. “And if there’s one thing that would motivate us fighting kinds, it’s besmirching the one who gave birth to us. Seriously, she has a point.”
Chomper looked up. He almost glared at them but something in him broke and he sighed. “I know. But what am I supposed to do? I need to make sure I don’t fall behind but no matter what I do, I…”
“You’re doing fine, Chomper.” Verter said, pulling at a few leaves from a high branch. “Not many can do what you’re doing. You’re getting stronger at your own pace.”
“But I can’t go ‘at my own pace’ when there’s a killer around. I’m trying to be faster but that I’m not able to keep up with Cera in running or even rock breaking is-”
Chomper thumped a foot into the ground. Cera looked at him speculatively.
“Is this size thing really bothering you?” she asked.
“It’s not about my size.” Chomper said. “It’s just…I want to help you guys. I want to do more.”
“From what I hear, you helped your friends plenty of times with your sniffer and sharptooth language.” Verter said.
“That isn’t good enough. I hate not being able to do much when my friends get endangered. After everything you all have done for me, it wouldn’t be right for me to sit back, especially after-” he stopped, glancing down awkwardly.
“What?” Cera asked. “Especially what?” At Chomper’s hesitation, she said. “Come on, I won’t laugh. We won’t be able to understand what’s going on if you don’t tell us.”
There were whispers to the side. Verter looked up and a longcrest swimmer and clubtail hidden behind some foliage a bit ahead stopped talking to stare at him. He offered a smile, but they turned and walked away.
“She’s right,” he said, shaking his attention back to the pair. “If this issue is effecting your training, it doesn’t sound like the kind of thing to laugh about. Come on, tell us.”
Cera nodded. Chomper looked between them, hesitating, but he exhaled slowly and met their eyes.
“I’m also doing this for my parents,” he said. “I’m a weirdo sharptooth who likes being nice and seeking friends even in our food, but they accepted me. They were troubled about the seeking friends in food part, but as long I could be tough and smart enough to survive, they allowed me to be who I am. They comforted me after other sharpteeth made fun of me and when I got lonely. They wanted me to be happy. They even fought Red Claw when he got angry me and Ruby’s families were friends but then they got hurt and…”
“Chomper,” Cera’s gaze was sympathetic, “it’s not your fault. There was nothing you could do.”
“That’s the problem!” Chomper threw his hands up. “Our families were friends because me and Ruby became friends. My parents fought to keep us together. That I couldn’t do anything but watch is…” He took a breath. “The least I could do is make sure no one else has to fight my battles. If they knew I could really take care of myself…at least they might be happy.”
“Huh.” Verter’s eyes were raised thoughtfully. “You sharpteeth go through a lot more than I thought.”
Cera nodded. “Was this eating at you this whole time?”
“A little.” Chomper admitted. “But not until these past few days. It’s just, with these ghosts, they made me realize what’s important. You guys have done so much to make sure me and Ruby could stay here. I just can’t stand aside and goof around anymore. I have to actually be useful, even if it’s hard and the challenges just make me-”
Chomper ripped bits of grass in frustration. Cera looked at him with concern.
“Anger has its place but I don’t think this is good for you,” she said.
“That’s kind of weird for you to say, since you’re known for getting angry.” Chomper said. “Anger can be good. It can get me focused.”
“It’s not good all the time. What if it makes you lash out at our friends?”
Verter nodded. “Unfocused anger isn’t very useful. Especially with who you are, don’t you want to be careful about that it?”
Chomper faltered. He lowered his eyes. “I – I don’t want to hurt my friends. But what am I supposed to do with this to keep them safe?”
“You would just need to learn to push aside your emotions.” Verter replied. “When I was talking with Topps back there, I was able to shove my worries aside and enjoy being with an old pal. Outside of training, aside from eating right and not getting your neck broken, you should learn to let go of your worries and enjoy the moment. Heck, you need it to sleep more easily. This will help not only focus your anger during training but life in general.”
“You think so?” Chomper asked.
Cera nodded. “As my daddy say, manage it carefully and put it to something useful.”
“Okay.” Chomper sighed but looked determined. “I’ll do my best to focus my anger on the training.”
There were sighs of relief. Verter broke a stick off a tree and gave it to Chomper, which was covered in bugs. Verter also handed leaves to Cera and they began to eat, Chomper actually looking perked up as he nibbled bugs off.
“I’m glad you two made me see things clearly,” he commented. “It is better to fight for our friends instead of with them.”
“It usually is.” Almost quietly, Cera added. “Boy, did I need to learn that lesson.”
Verter glanced at her. “What was that?”
“Oh, nothing.” She averted her gaze.
Verter examined her before gazing around. “Well, not much crawlies around here I can find. I’ll go check somewhere else.”
“Oh, you don’t need to do that.” Chomper said. “These will be fine.”
“Nonsense! You’re training. My trainees need the best food so they can keep going. Won’t be long.”
With a nod, Verter walked off. Chomper watched him go with a fond smile.
“He’s nice,” he said. “We’re fortunate to have such a good trainer.”
Cera narrowed her eyes to where Verter departed. “Maybe. He wasn’t so good with getting you injured though.”
“Hey, that was my fault.” Chomper protested. “I was getting too in the moment.”
“I know. Still, even if he is inexperienced with sharpteeth, you would think he would know to be careful with that. He wasn’t exactly telling the truth about enjoying being with my dad either. Didn’t you hear them yell earlier?”
“Yeah,” he admitted. “I just thought that was your dad being your dad. Besides, maybe it’s been awhile since Verter trained others?” He looked at her. “Where are all these doubts coming from?”
“I just – oh, I don’t know.” She shook her head. “I guess it’s normal to have doubts the first few days but the way he’s been treating you is kind of weird. He was so ready to jump into training us moments after he finding out friendly sharpteeth exist. I don’t mean to blow this out of proportion but…do you really trust he knows what he’s doing?”
Chomper opened his mouth but uncertainty came in and he rubbed at his chest. They sat in silence until the rumble of a few dinosaurs passing by and whispering came to the fore. Verter came in from that group, bearing some leaves like a cup, gaze troubled.
“Why the long faces?” he asked. “Don’t tell me you talked about the meaning of life while I was away.”
“Huh? Oh, no!” Chomper started, forcing a laugh. “We were just …thinking about how to train better!” He patted his leaf covering and pumped his arms. “I’m feeling much better now. Still sore but I barely notice it.”
Verter surveyed them before smiling. “Well, I have something that might heal things faster.” He laid down leaves with crawlers writhing and crawling on top of them. “Here’s some of the promised grub. Got them on some good leaves, might as well fill both of my trainees’ stomachs.”
“Oh, you shouldn’t have!” Chomper laughed. He licked his lips. “Yum!”
“There are bugs on them?” Cera shuddered. “Gross.”
“Don’t worry Cera.” He pointed to his nose. “My sniffer will make sure your leaves are nice and bug-free before you have a bite.”
She sighed. “Just make sure not to leave too much slobber on them.”
Verter chuckled. “Once you’re done, we’ll resume training. We’ll avoid any more head ramming to allow Chomper’s head time to heal. Speaking of time, Cera…after seeing you help Chomper, I realized I hadn’t been paying as much attention to you as I thought. I apologize. You really did some impressive work on that rock. You’re both valuable to this mission and I should give you both equal due.”
“Huh? Oh, uh, thanks.” Cera said, taken aback. “I’ll make sure to eat when Chomper finishes the leaves.”
Chomper rose from eating to give her a look that said, “See? He knows what he’s doing.” Cera ignored him as he slurped up bugs from the leaves, some of his cheerful energy returning. Verter watched Chomper sniff around for more bugs before smiling at her. She jerked, forced a grin, and looked away. Now he was here, she felt some guilt. With the substantial threat of Mr. Clubtail’s killer, she shouldn’t sabotage their training with her suspicions. Her friends’ words about Verter rose in her head but she shoved them aside. Once Chomper finished eating, she stepped in and attacked the leaves with the determination to put her all into her training.
But a sliver of doubt remained.
--
Ruby stood with Petrie as she watched the various dinosaurs pass by the flyer family nest. The next day had brought a slight ease to the valley residents but most of them still walked cautiously, eyes on the lookout for any sudden movements. In the brief seconds passersby appeared and disappeared amongst the foliage below, she tried to note their body language, what they said if it was audible and with what tone, noting how they acted when another person was in the vicinity. Trying to get a snapshot of each dinosaur’s character was a challenge but she had done some of this in the Mysterious Beyond to wile away her days, so it shouldn’t be that hard, right?
Even as she tried to note the character of the individuals, her attention couldn’t help but stray to how they reacted to others, especially to different kinds. For so many cold times, this diverse intermingling had been her normal but now she tried to pay attention to what made it normal in the first place.
*What is it about the Great Valley that makes my parents and Chomper’s parents think is so great?* she mused. *It must be something about how the kinds relate to other kinds. Let’s see, that domehead passes the threehorn without growling, that threehorn doesn’t glare at the spiketail, the spiketail allows the thicknose to eat from the bush before she does…*
“Please don’t space out, Ruby.”
Ruby jumped. Don stood nearby, cool gaze on her.
“I’m aware it might be difficult for those your age, but do try to pay attention,” he said.
“Of course,” she said. “Sorry.”
Don harrumphed and walked past. Beside her, Petrie sent a sympathetic look. Beyond the sounds of Don pacing, Ruby could hear the chatter of Petrie’s brothers and sister and his parents talking fondly. Ruby thought she saw Petrie’s gaze almost waver to the nest but he stared ahead. Ruby’s heart stung. As someone separated from her family, she didn’t feel it was right he was sacrificing this rare family time to improve his deduction skills for others.
“After minutes of watching,” Don said, “I believe it’s time to assess what you can say about the people below. Don’t look around, just keep watching. When I point to someone, rattle off what you can tell me about them. Ready?” He pointed “That whiptail longneck over there.”
“Huh?” Petrie tilted his head. “Oh. He – she have tail raised, walk straightly, and look around. She trying to, um, guard?”
“Okay, but guard for who, what does this say about her?”
“She is trying to guard herself and anyone that’s nearby.” Ruby said. “She’s experienced with living in the Mysterious Beyond, so she knows how to live in times of crises and wants to help.”
“Adequate.” Don said. “Though the swing of the head does indicate some paranoia. Next: the sprinter in that direction.”
“He have a lot of scars.” Petrie said. “He look very grumpy. He look like – ooh, he get in lots of fights.”
“That is obvious.”
“He is probably the type who fights to maintain his pride.” Ruby said. “Pride is very important to him, so he will do anything to maintain it.”
“Those scars look like they come from punishment for his temper but Ruby’s guess is closer –a natural consequence for a kind whose size requires sneakiness.”
Ruby frowned. It felt good to be validated but not for that validation to be used to for his generalizations. Petrie glanced up with traces of distress
“Well temper and pride often together, so maybe both,” he said.
“But they can be separate.” Don said. “The crestless swimmer to your left.”
“Oh, she…seems to be thinking about something.” Ruby frowned. “Maybe thinking about the killer? She doesn’t seem to be paying much attention to her surroundings, so it must be very deep thought.”
“Most likely about how this crises impacts her family. She has a motherly look in her eyes.”
“What? Oh.” Petrie said. “Me – me think me see that…”
“Not bad, not bad.” Don said. “The spikeback to the right.”
They continued and Ruby kept up as best as she could. Her cold times of observing others in the Mysterious Beyond provided some help but she was discovering many gaps in her knowledge. She had some familiarity with a few kinds but others she barely knew well enough to deduce whether Don’s judgement of them had any basis or not. She had to make up for that. But there were so many kinds out there, so many different ways. Though she felt that was what made the world wonderful, Ruby now found it crushing. How was she going to gather the knowledge to save the Mysterious Beyond from Red Claw in time? She pushed those thoughts down to concentrate but the worry remained. Fortunately, Don called a break after a few minutes and they rested their soothed throats.
“You are getting better.” Don admitted. His lips twitched. “But you have a long way to go.”
“Understood.” Ruby said.
Petrie glanced up at her. “You seem to be doing okay.”
“Okay isn’t good enough,” she said. “Good enough is getting better, more quickly.”
He looked down. “You still say some good things. Me wonder if me getting better.”
“Hey, you are.” Ruby put a hand on his back. “This is just the first round, and for a first round, you made some decent observations. We all get better at our own paces.”
“Is that a good thing? What if killer able to do bad thing because me too slow to learn how to watch and think?”
“Then practice harder and more frequently.” Don said. “Absent of magic, that is the only way to improve.”
Petrie sighed. “More people watching? Me hope it works.”
Ruby hesitated, but saw that now was a good time to make her suggestion. “Maybe we can improve our observation skills by talking to other dinosaurs. By being up close and personal, we can learn who they are.”
Don frowned. “I’m not sure how helpful that is. Dinosaurs do lie to others.”
“Even so, a person’s own words and actions involving you can help you judge what kind of person they are,” she persisted.
“There are still disadvantages,” he said. “For Wing Father’s sake, people hide parts of themselves, especially with strangers. Do you think many people would be honest or want to talk to you in this climate? If anything, they would be suspicious and not many would want to speak with you.”
“That is…” Ruby opened and closed her mouth. “Even with fewer people, it could still be useful. If we hear their reasoning about things, it could expand on how we judge people individually and as part of their kinds.”
“Mistruth and deception will still get in the way. Observing them from a distance is better. If they don’t know you’re watching, they are unguarded and you can judge them without being swayed by how they spin their actions. Some individuals and especially certain kinds love to put a positive light on what they do, especially if it might be suspect.”
“That’s…” Ruby clung her chin reluctantly. “There is a point there. I do remember when people watching in the Mysterious Beyond that people were guarded with others, even if they were nice. I thought here in the valley people might be more honest but in this climate, I guess my idea isn’t that much use after all.”
She looked down, feeling Petrie touch her hand in sympathy. Don watched, wings crossed. His features softened slightly.
“From your limited experience, that was a decent idea,” he said. “Maybe these exercises can help you think of a better one.”
Ruby and Petrie looked up with surprise. Did Don just try to comfort her? His praise of the pair’ progress seemed genuine, albeit grudging, but this was a whole other level. Uncomfortable with their attention, Don coughed and his voice became more businesslike.
“As I was saying, if you want to improve faster, practice more. Let’s resume the exercise. So, what are your thoughts on that squareshi-”
He was cut off by the sound of angry whispering. Starting, they turned to find Papa Flyer irritably waving a paw-ful of berries. Incensed, Mama Flyer pointed hard at one of the kids and whispered back. Petrie’s brothers and sisters looked between their parents, this argument unexpected and unwanted. After another back and forth, Papa Flyer closed his eyes and took a determined breath before talking more calmly. Though annoyed, Mama Flyer relaxed enough to talk him down to handing half the berries over to the kids before walking off to near Petrie, Ruby, and Don’s standing spot, wings crossed. Don exhaled through his nose.
“For Wing Father’s sake, if it isn’t one interruption, it’s another with this family.”
Ruby sent him a look but fortunately Don had said this under his breath, so she didn’t think Mama Flyer heard. Thinking objectively, though, Ruby could understand why. Even if the killer’s threat necessitated it, learning in a noisy family’s presence could be distracting.
“Everything alright?” Petrie asked.
“It’s fine.” Mama Flyer managed a faint smile. “Just a disagreement over what is healthy to feed your brothers. We just need to cool off.”
Petrie’s gaze flicked down. “You even fight over that.” He fidgeted. “Mama, why can’t you and Papa get along more?”
Her comforting expression flickered before she sighed. “Oh Petrie, I wish we could but our personalities clash. It makes it hard to settle disagreements.”
“But why can’t you talk it out? Me talk with friends after fights and me still friends with them after.”
“Settling disputes between friends can be different from settling disputes between mates. It shouldn’t be but…he can be so frustrating, with his unnecessary boundaries, unreasonable suspicion and-” Mama Flyer stopped and forced a breath. “Sorry. I don’t mean to force this on you.”
“It’s only understandable, you know.” Don said.
Mama Flyer glanced at him in confusion. “I’m sorry?”
“The conflict between you two. Male flyers were never meant to be mates.”
Mama Flyer blinked, as though stunned. Then she bristled. “Now you see here, that has nothing to do with our fights.”
“Does it not?” Don asked. “It’s only nature. A mother flyer’s role is to raise the next generation and the male’s is to initiate the process. That is all. Trying to do more only leads to unnecessary conflict.”
“Don’t bring this up to nature! There are many reasons why relationships fail. That you would force this reason on us is -”
“What’s going on?” Papa Flyer walked over, gaze sweeping around.
Mama Flyer pointed. “He’s saying our relationship’s current status is because of flyer nature."
“Is he now?” Papa Flyer’s eyes bore onto Don. “Well, you do like offering opinions on things that aren’t your business.”
“I was merely comforting your former mate with objective facts.” Don said. “It was doomed from the beginning, so there’s only so much blame you can share between you two.”
“What makes you think nature is what happened to us?” Papa Flyer challenged. “Stop with that nonsense. You know nothing about us. We are more than our natures, don’t come in with your generalizations.”
Don looked between Mama Flyer and Papa Flyer, irritated, analyzing. Nervous, Ruby tugged on his wing but he didn’t notice.
“I thought so.” Don said at last. “’More than our natures.’ You were part of that coupling movement.”
“Coupling? Movement?” Petrie repeated. “What you talking about?”
“In your parents’ generation, there was a movement to change flyer tradition.” Don answered. “Male flyers wanted to be with those they mated with and the females wanted a companion to help raise the young. They observed the mating rituals of other kinds and suddenly wanted some version of that relationship. But just because it works for some kinds doesn’t mean it’ll work for us. Your mother and father’s example only demonstrates the movement’s failure.”
“Now don’t you go there.” Mama Flyer said. “With so many pursuing a major change in relations, it’s only inevitable a few will fail. Unfortunately, we are among them.”
“Do you have any facts to back that up?” Don asked. “I’ve heard it’s more than a few. For Wing Father’s sake, we aren’t built for relationships.”
“It’s what we aren’t experienced in.” Papa Flyer retorted. “I know more than a few couples who have succeeded and it has changed their lives for the better.”
“Have you checked to make sure that is still so? They’re likely putting on a front so they could refuse to admit there are challenges or their instincts are rebelling against them.” Don put his hands behind his back “Our way has worked for generations. We shouldn’t change our natures for change’s sake or just to be trendy.”
“Some say that long ago it was common for children not to be taken care of by their mothers.” Mama Flyer retorted. “If that was true, we changed that. Male flyers can do the same to take on roles in mating and parenting. For all your proclaimed wisdoms, you’re unwise about the complexity our own kinds display.”
Don sneered. “I thought veterans of adulthood would have a wiser view on the actions of their youth. Your mothers warned your generation about this and instead of accepting their wisdoms, you continue to dwell in denial. You’re as ignorant and disrespectful as when you first thanked them for attempting to pass down their knowledge by spitting in their faces.”
There was an intake of breath. Mama Flyer’s shocked expression turned into a glare. Petrie gazed up at Don with an angry grit to his beak. Ruby could relate. She wanted to shake Don; this was far out of line. Papa Flyer’s eyes bored into Don’s. He clenched and unclenched his hands, but stayed where he was.
“You know what dear, I change my mind about your brother.” Papa Flyer said. “At least Pterano was sometimes pleasant company. The same can’t be said for this – this…I won’t use that word in front of children. If this is how you always acted, no wonder your former flock kicked you out.”
Don jerked as though slapped. He glared back. Mama Flyer put a hand on her former mate’s shoulder.
“Dear.”
Papa Flyer didn’t seem to notice. Then he turned around. “I’m done. I’ve made my point here.”
He marched back to the nest. Mama Flyer hesitated but followed, her glance at Don not holding much sympathy. Petrie and Ruby stood next to Don, atmosphere tense.
“Why you have to talk like that?” Petrie said quietly. “Mama and Papa being together a good thing. It – it could be better but – why couldn’t you be quiet?”
“Yes, Don.” Ruby put her fists on her hips. “If you had kept your disagreement to yourself, we wouldn’t have argued. And the arguing wouldn’t have upset everyone.”
“It did.” Don murmured.
“Now because we’re upset, me and Petrie will have trouble concentrating on the lesson. Please concentrate on those consequences next time before bringing up your opinions.”
Don grimaced slightly. “As much as I hate considering others’ feelings when a truth must be told…it has value. I wouldn’t have had to deal with that unnecessary drama then.”
He walked over and sat on the edge. Ruby and Petrie continued to glare, but as he remained still, uncertainty set in. Tentatively, they stepped closer. His gaze on the distant mountains was hard and he frowned with grim contemplation. The expression didn’t look unusual on Don’s face, but it was unhappy enough compared to his usual attitude they felt moved to speak.
“Um, you okay?” Petrie said.
“I’m fine.” Don said. “That jab just hit a sore point. A lucky shot. It will go away.”
“When people are made angry, they tend to strike back.” Ruby said. Her tone wasn’t scolding but matter-of-fact. “Sometimes those strikes are very hard.”
“I should have expected that. None of what the young say should hit me but I suppose even my emotions are fickle things.”
“Did – did what cause fickling have to do with what you say yesterday?” Petrie asked. “About your old flock not accepting you back?”
“You also said something about an event a night circle cycle back.” Ruby said. “Is that related?”
Don averted his gaze. “That is none of your business. That’s a private matter.”
“My parents’ relationship also private matter, yet you still talked.” Petrie said. More softly, he continued. “When you have issue, sometimes talking can help.”
Ruby nodded. “Petrie has a point. If you’re training us, it would be advantageous if you’re not distracted by past points of distress.”
Looking at the pair, Don opened his mouth but paused. He gripped his chin, uncertainty weaving in his eyes. After several seconds, he sighed.
“I could do with no distractions.” He adjusted his posture, waving for the pair to sit down. “The event you reference does have a connection to what occurred with my flock. It only confirmed what I knew but…let me give you some background. I had already been kicked out of my flock for a few night circle cycles. I had glimpsed their activities and they sure didn’t appear to miss me. It burned to be thrown away so easily but I came to like having little contact with the ignorant. It meant fewer interruption to my contemplations. Still, it was dull to have no one to share my wisdoms with.
“Then one day, while I was flying around the Mysterious Beyond to clear my thoughts, I heard a cry for help. Far from the valley, I found one of my younger flockmates on a tall rock formation, looking scared and calling for help. I went over to ask him what the trouble was. Apparently while doing some exercise flights, he had got himself blown into the Mysterious Beyond and he forgot which way the valley was. I informed him about the air current that could get him back and he was so relieved. He actually seemed to appreciate my help. That was satisfying but before I could dwell on it, a shadow fell over us.
“It was a sharptooth. A great big sailback with long jaws. It lunged for us but we took off. Maybe it was desperate for food - who knows how they think – but it followed us. We would have normally flown into the sky but our morning flights exhausted us. We barely stayed out of reach. We urged each other on, gave each other tips to fly faster. Even with how terrified he was, he stayed beside me. I thought at least this demonstrated he was loyal to a former flockmate.”
Don’s tone became bitter. “We could feel the sharptooth’s snaps getting closer. I was tiring, falling behind. I am old, I can’t fly as fast as I used to. He kept glancing at me, and I thought he was fearful for my well-being. We continued to urge each other on but at last, on one of those snaps, he screamed and,” his voice broke, “flapped his wings enough to gain a second wind and rise into the sky. Flew away – leaving me behind. After all my wisdoms, he only used me so far as it could help him and once he saw me as a liability, he threw me away. Left me to be eaten like a common creature.
“Of course,” he sighed shakily, “I got away…but only barely. Some of my former flock came to check on me, claiming concern, but I turned them away. Nearly dying made me learn something – I can’t trust anyone to be reliable. Whether it’s for intelligence or compassion, they will let you down. I had enough of that, so I cut all ties with them. I would be on my own, improving my knowledge. I would prefer people engage with my ideas but if sticking to my views means that I have to be alone, so be it. I won’t compromise the truth for the fancy of others.”
Don exhaled slowly. Ruby and Petrie stared as they sorted through the mix of emotions swirling in them. Ruby tried to comprehend it – a friend, maybe even a child of a friend you knew your entire life, abandoning you out of fear. Placing any of their friends in that position made her heart ache.
“Wow, that just,” Petrie waved, “me not think it something that big.”
“It sounds like this flyer was appreciative but got scared and ran,” Ruby said, “but abandonment by impulse is still something you have a right to be angry about.”
“If nothing else, danger shows who your true allies are.” Don replied. “Sometimes relations can never be the same. It’s best to cut those ties and move on.”
“R-really?” Petrie murmured. “Even if it would be better to try to fix things you care about?”
“You can try, but no matter how much we fight it, there are relationships that can no longer be repaired.”
Petrie glanced at his parents as they engaged with their children, in the nest but standing apart. He gave a sad sigh.
“Anyway, that must have been hard.” Ruby said. “We hope talking about that hard thing at least helped a bit.”
“Yes,” Don stood, “I…do appreciate you listened to my story. That is a very unusual thing from your generation. It did help focus me on what’s really important.”
Ruby and Petrie sat up. Don was looking at them from the side, having challenge maintaining eye contact. Slowly, they smiled.
“So we return to lesson?” Petrie asked.
“Of course.” Don turned to them, all severe business again. “We wasted enough time. For Wing Father’s sake, we need to get our focus back on finding the killer’s identity. Let’s resume our scenario debates.”
“We’re going to break off from people judging to debating?” Ruby said skeptically. ”Wouldn’t finishing off where we started mean we start debates on a better foot?”
“Everything will make sense in time.” Don waved for them to walk from the cliffs and sit in a circle near the path walls. “We shall revisit a theme from yesterday: scheming. Whoever killed Mr. Clubtail is a cunning sort. Related to this, do you think he did the deed for some other purpose?”
Ruby frowned. “Don’t tell me we’re going to look at ‘scheming dinosaurs’ again? Looking in that way would only be a distraction.”
“If a kind has a certain tendency, it’s only natural to search for suspects among them.” Don said irritably. “But yes, we shouldn’t limit ourselves. No matter the temperament, all dinosaurs are scheming in some way. Not even the aggressive are exempt.”
“The aggressive…” Ruby repeated.
She and Petrie exchanged concerned glances, Don’s words bring a certain green threehorn to mind. Verter had bragged about his fighting record yet appeared so friendly. Ruby remembered how quickly his smoothed over his disappointment Cera’s parents rejected his request to train her and Chomper, transitioning back to bantering with Chomper and Cera’s family and making them laugh again. As soon as it occurred to her, Ruby dismissed this old suspicion as silly. Some didn’t tend to dwell on the negative; she knew people like that. Nevertheless an unsettled feeling lingered in her stomach…
Soon she and Petrie shall shake themselves and attempt to return to the debate but for several seconds Don watched closely as confusion and worry plagued their expressions.
They didn’t notice the guilt that flickered through his eyes.
--
Note: Didn't quite make the end of August but the week after isn't too late. Knocking on wood, I hope to post part 2 next week.
--
We Will Hold On Forever
by
DaveTheAnalyzer
Chapter 13: New Routines Part 1
“Angle your head like that Tria. Yes, that’s it…”by
DaveTheAnalyzer
Chapter 13: New Routines Part 1
Tria stepped back. Cera and Tricia sat next to Mr. Threehorn as they watched him sternly instruct his mate on how to attack the boulder that had inexplicably rolled into this clearing far from any mountains long ago. Tricia sat on Cera’s foreleg, the sisters chewing leaves almost in tune as the three watched Tria.
Taking a deep breath, Tria charged and her horns crashed into the boulder. There was a spray of rocks and gravel. Shaking her head, Tria backed away and they assessed the damage. So far, less than a quarter of the boulder had been broken, pieces ranging from the size of Cera’s horn to her head scattered about. Tria panted, sweat tracing lines in the dust on her hide.
“Ah, I see the training bug’s catching.”
Verter strolled in, giving a nod to Mr. Threehorn. Chomper followed in the former’s wake. He waved to Cera and Tricia, but didn’t get any closer. With Tricia so young, they didn’t want to leave her with the impression it was okay to approach sharpteeth. Mr. Threehorn looked up and smiled. Cera thought his gaze lingered on Chomper’s few cuts and bruises, but his eyes flicked back to Verter so fast she wondered if she imagined it.
“You could say that, Verter.” Mr. Threehorn greeted. “I think she’s doing fair so far.”
Verter examined Tria’s handiwork. “What’s with the training interest all of a sudden?”
“Well, you heard about our family’s penchant for danger.” Tria said, stepping back. “After one too many near misses, I thought my husband shouldn’t do most of the fighting. If even Cera and Chomper are contributing, I shouldn’t be standing by.”
Verter watched as she backed a few paces and rammed into the boulder again, spraying more rocks onto the ground.
“Well, good luck with that.” He smiled. “Cera, come on. It’s time for us to work up a sweat.”
“Okay.” Cera said, reluctantly pulling her foot from Tricia as she stood.
“Oh, don’t be in a rush, Verter.” Mr. Threehorn waved his head invitingly. “Sit down. Press the grass.”
“I’m afraid I can’t waste time.” Verter said. “To prepare for this threat, these two need to get trained as quickly as possible.”
“I know, but it feels like a waste for you to be here and we don’t spend any time together. Shouldn’t we at least catch up a little?”
Verter hesitated. He smiled. “Well…for old time’s sake. Cera, Chomper, jog around the clearing while me and papa threehorn have a chat.”
“Alright.” Chomper said. “Come on, Cera.”
“Don’t ‘come on, Cera’ me.” Cera said. “I’ll lead the way.”
Chomper laughed but waved for her to walk alongside him.
“Tria, get used to ramming the boulder at that angle,” Mr. Threehorn said.
“Right, Topsy.”
As she and Chomper walked away, Cera couldn’t help glancing back. Tria had retreated and rammed the boulder again and then again, blue eyes unusually sharp. Cera winced. Tria was so sweet, so joyful in life’s little pleasures. It didn’t feel right she was throwing this much seriousness into learning how to protect them. It was only another sign of how abnormal everything had become. Shaking herself, Cera joined Chomper in working up for a morning jog.
Verter sat beside Mr. Threehorn. For a moment, they allowed the sound of Tria’s grunts and the crackle of the boulder to wash over them, soon joined by the fading in and out of Cera and Chomper’s footsteps and panting. Tricia padded over and leaned on Mr. Threehorn’s foreleg, closing her eyes at the contact.
“Your wit was missed yesterday.” Mr. Threehorn said finally. “It would have made the situation with Mr. Clubtail more tolerable.”
“If I did that, I might have hit a nerve and been accused of not taking the situation seriously.” Verter said. “You know the situation. I have to train those two.”
Mr. Threehorn nodded, watching Tria work. “How are they doing?”
“I told you yesterday. It’s only a first day but they are doing splendid. I’ve rarely seen children so young be so dedicated.” Verter smirked. “What, losing your memory at your old age?”
“No. Just,” Mr. Threehorn continued staring ahead, “Cera let slip about the vine you use yesterday.”
Verter frowned. “Topps…”
“Don’t see this as an issue of trust. It’s only natural we would check on our daughter after training. Though whipping…it seem we were right to be worried.”
“That is just to urge them on.” Verter said. “I’m not actually hitting them.”
“But we noticed some markings on her. And Chomper as well.” Mr. Threehorn replied. “This isn’t something we expected with the training you were talking about.”
“I just need to get back into the groove of using the vine. You remember our training when we were younger, harshness like that is normal.”
“But we agreed it wouldn’t be this harsh. They are children, they have limits. And I see how tired you are making them. You’re giving them the proper amounts of breaks, right?”
“I am.” Verter said. “Of course the first few days would be exhausting. They just need some time to acclimate to the routine.”
“I know. Still…” Mr. Threehorn sighed. “We didn’t know all the details. Maybe we were too quick to agree to this.”
Verter raised his head. “Are seriously thinking of calling this off?”
Mr. Threehorn met his eye. “I would if my daughter and her friend are at risk.”
“Since when was Chomper your child?” Verter said. “Will you indulge in their short-term comfort to push aside their long term needs?”
“I’m thinking about their long term wellbeing.” Mr. Threehorn said. “You weren’t exactly honest about the level of training this would be.”
“I thought we agreed on the level of training. Friends should trust each other, Topps. Is this one of Tria’s silly whims?”
“No, I share her worries. If Cera and Chomper are at risk, we might have to put a stop to this.”
Verter got to his feet. “That’s irresponsible!”
Mr. Threehorn stood up as well. “What would be irresponsible is letting two children take on responsibilities that are above them!”
“Is it really responsible to let a sharptooth child live here undisciplined and not have them be prepared when the killer could strike at any second?!”
They glared at each other, tense and ready to lock horns. Then a voice called near Mr. Threehorn’s foot. Tricia was pawing at her father, looking between him and Verter nervously and warbling pleadingly. Verter watched as Mr. Threehorn’s anger started out of him and he lowered his head to trace his muzzle across her side.
“You – you have a point.” Mr. Threehorn sighed. “Chomper does needs to be kept in check. And with this killer around and how adventures the children can be, they need to be prepared. I don’t like it but it’s necessary. This must be the parent in me talking. It can override the thinking part of my brain.”
Verter looked at him with surprise. “Well, that was quick. I didn’t expect you to give in so quickly.”
“Tricia woke me up.” Mr. Threehorn nuzzled her again, her little form relaxing and curling against him. “I didn’t want to start a fight while my youngest daughter was underfoot.”
There had been an abating in the rock cracking and Tria looked at them in concern.
“Everything alright over there?” she called.
“Don’t worry, we’ve settled things.” Mr. Threehorn replied. “Just go back to doing what you’re doing.”
Tria still looked uncertain but she nodded and went back to ramming her boulder. Verter watched Mr. Threehorn, something flickering in his expression.
“Hmm.” Verter sat down. “You sure have changed. I still remember a time you would be willing to fight no matter the time or place to deal with a spoiled upstart.”
“I know.” Mr. Threehorn’s lips twitched. “I still get the urge now and then but at my age, I need to choose my battles.”
“I can understand the sentiment. At our age, you have to become more thoughtful about conflict.” Verter smirked. “Youth was a simpler time. Remember that time someone said you passed the Threehorn Ascension test on a fluke? Oh, did you show him.”
“Yeah.” Mr. Threehorn smirked. “I plowed him into the ground. It was so satisfying to see him get up embarrassed.”
“Right?” Verter chuckled. “Oh, and there was that time an idiot challenged us on a route to a green glen. No matter what we said, he insisted he was right. After a long day of fighting, it was great to see you bend his horns and make him squeal in surrender.”
“It sure was. Oh, the faces he made when we made him eat the least appetizing green food at the glen. Priceless.” Mr. Threehorn chuckled. “Oh, do you also remember how I won a contest of strength? The guy was overconfident but I overpowered him and kept him from getting up until he admitted I was the stronger one. Seeing the look of humiliation on his face was worth all the cuts and bruises that came with fighting him.”
Verter and Mr. Threehorn laughed, old and familiar as they went through fond memories.
“I hear you still fight from time to time.” Verter said. “I’m sure you can keep up the good work.”
“Maybe.” Mr. Threehorn looked away. “But that is frowned upon around here. With so many different kinds and ways, we usually have to talk out our problems.”
“Oh, that’s rough.” Verter said, sympathetic. “To be faced with an absolute moron and not be able to do anything but argue them into submission must be torture.”
“No kidding.” Mr. Threehorn sighed. “Still, at least my daughters don’t have to be exposed to that kind of violence. They can enjoy life here without having to worry about a fight breaking out or seeing blood spilled.”
“Hmm.” Verter watched Tria crack into the boulder, leaving less than half of it left. He smiled. “Well, we saw a lot of fighting as kids and turned out alright.”
Mr. Threehorn snorted. “I’m not sure alright’s the right word. I still remember the blood my mother spilled to protect her territory. And what the herd leader did to that one guy…I’m amazed we had any childhood at all.”
“We still got up to a lot of mischief.” Verter chuckled, looking up in reminiscence. “The stunts you would pull even during the Time of the Great Growing…there was that time you raced the other guys and tricked them into jumping into a mud pool. Oh, the grownups would be mad when they caught us.”
“If they caught us.” Mr. Threehorn smirked. “I don’t think they ever found out why the water turned them blue.”
Verter nodded. “I can’t forget one time in my youth when I attempted to push some rocks uphill, they rolled off and almost hit some kids downhill. Oh, did I get hit behind the tail when the grownups found out.”
Mr. Threehorn winced. “Yeah, I got some of that when I was young. There was worse during the Time of Great Growing. Grownups weren’t very forgiving back then. It was understandable. Those were harsh times and to maintain order, there had to have consequences you would remember. ”
“Yes.” Verter nodded with satisfaction. “You could be harsh to anyone who crossed the line and everyone knew their place. It was tough but we lived it. I’m sure your daughters would’ve been fine in that environment.”
“Maybe.” Mr. Threehorn frowned. “I don’t regret a lot of what happened. But it’s good the valley doesn’t need to deal with that kind of violence.”
“But can you see those times were better, even with the pain, even with-”
“There were good times,” Mr. Threehorn interrupted, “but they have ended. All that harsh behavior was to survive but in the valley, that isn’t necessary. In some ways, I’m glad. Now my family can lead better lives than we had.”
“I see.” Verter said. He was looking away. “Well, it’s good to have a life where your family can relax. That has…value.” He got to his feet. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to be off.”
“What?” Mr. Threehorn double-taked. “Oh, oh. Well, don’t let me keep you. Look after Cera and Chomper for us.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure they’re well taken care of.” Verter looked back. “Good luck with training that mate of yours. Your daughter might be a bit late getting home but I’ll be sure she arrives before sleepy-bye time.”
“Sure. I know I’ve annoyed you with our concerns but thanks for all you’re doing Verter.”
There was a nod and a flicker of a smile but Verter was already walking away, calling for Cera and Chomper to jog with him back to the fighting grounds. For a second, Mr. Threehorn’s eyes lingered on their distancing figures, at a loss for the abrupt departure. A crackle made him turn. Tria had stepped back, catching her breath, the boulder in front of her reduced to more than a quarter of its size. Shifting, he forced a smile and tried to focus.
“Good going, Tria. Next strategy. How about-”
While Mr. Threehorn may have taken his eyes off Verter, someone else hadn’t. Sitting atop a high pine, Don watched Verter jog by with his panting charges. Barely paying attention to the two gossiping flyers on a branch below, he gripped his mount harder.
“For Wing Father’s sake,” Don said, “you’d better not harm them.”
--
“Just a little higher. Yeah, that’s the way.”
Littlefoot laughed as he jumped along. Patty was carefully swinging the tip of her tail over Littlefoot’s feet in slow, relaxed loops. He stumbled a bit at the next pass but upon Patty’s concerned look, he shook his head and motioned for her to continue.
They were at another location. They still stood in the open but near the Great Wall. There was a thick line of bright green trees and bushes pressed into that area but there wasn’t any room for more than a rainbowface-sized dinosaur to hide in. With their view of the rest of their surroundings, only interrupted by the occasional skinny tree or collection of bushes, Patty assured it would be safe spot to play.
After practicing a bit with jumping over their own tails that morning, they decided to move on to jumping over people’s tail. Practicing with Patty’s tail, Littlefoot was now back to tripping again. He wasn’t surprised. Having to coordinate with someone else’s tail was more challenging than coordinating with your own. Still, Littlefoot was making some progress and he was having a good time.
“Good, good.” Patty continued as she swished her tail. “You’re a quick learner.”
“That’s because – I have – a good teacher.” Littlefoot panted, after each jump. “Thanks for being – patient with me.”
“You don’t need to keep thanking me. I’m only doing what I want. Besides, I had a lot of time to be patient and…”
She trailed off. Littlefoot found himself staggering as the tail stopped behind him. Seeing her gaze fixed toward the line of trees, Littlefoot turned. Two cresthead swimmers were shoving each other as they darted between the trees, creaking tree limbs ominously as they pushed them aside. Even as he watched, they broke off two thick branches billowing with greens and laughed as they swung them at one another, nearly unbalancing as their feet caught on a root and stomped bushes flat. Patty’s mouth became thin.
“What are you doing? Don’t be careless with the plants!”
The cresthead swimmers stopped their mock duel, the leaves of their makeshift weapons pressing into the grass as they glanced at Patty with confusion.
“What’s your problem, lady?” One cresthead asked.
“You shouldn’t be wasting food like that.” Patty said. “With the branches you broke, there will be less leaves to grow on the trees and bushes.”
The other cresthead scrunched his nose. “Don’t get so bent out of shape. There’s plenty of green food in the valley. Breaking a few branches isn’t going to hurt anyone.”
“But it’s those small actions imitated by so many others that can endanger a valley, especially when scarcity comes.” Patty stepped forward. “Get some sense and have fun in less destructive ways.”
The crestheads examined her, annoyed. Then they jumped as an angry female voice rang out in the distance.
“Hey, did I say you boys can run off? Come back! Did you already forget there’s a killer on the loose?”
Looking a mix of scared and mutinous, one looked at his companion.
“C’mon Cory,” he said. “We can’t stick around.”
“Yeah. We weren’t going to have fun around here anyway.” Cory grimaced, throwing his branch to the ground. “Freaking newbies.”
His companion also dropping a branch, the pair hassled off toward the voice. Patty’s gaze burned after them. Concerned, Littlefoot stepped closer.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“I’m …” Patty took a breath, closing her eyes and opening them to reveal calm. “Sorry for snapping. After seeing everyone scraping for a living in the Mysterious Beyond, it makes me mad to see people waste.”
“Hey, I get it.” Littlefoot replied. “I still remember living in the Mysterious Beyond. I cringe whenever I see someone crush a bush or topple a tree.”
She grimaced. “I’m amazed this valley still has greens available with that kind of attitude. Has there been any food crises?”
“Oh, a few. Not caused by people being careless but I’m sure that didn’t help. The Thundering Falls block up, the swarming leaf gobblers, the white sparkles during cold times…but the valley always bounces back.”
“Really?” Patty widened an eye. “After all of that, the valley is always plentiful, even with that behavior around?”
Littlefoot shrugged helplessly. “There just always seems to be enough. After a disaster, it takes only a few night circle cycles to recover. Sometimes it takes a cold time but it always gets better. I always just accepted it but now that you mention it,” he frowned, “it is strange.”
Patty looked around, considering their surroundings. An understanding came into her eyes.
“Is this one of those places?” she murmured. “So it really is as said…”
“You have an idea what it’s about?” Littlefoot asked.
“I’ve heard a theory. I didn’t believe it but…” Patty said. “You know dinosaurs can shape the environment, right?”
“Uh, yeah.” Littlefoot said, puzzled. “That was why you were so mad at those two. If we break too many plants, we could break the valley.”
“Those are physical influences. I’ve also heard,” she shifted, “beliefs and emotions can impact the environment.”
Littlefoot tilted his head. Patty stood taller, circling on the spot and waving her head.
“Look around you,” she said. “What do you see? A great number of dinosaurs, most recent arrivals but more than a few I guess who’ve lived here for generations, eating, relaxing, and enjoying their lives in the valley.”
“Not recently.” Littlefoot looked around. “These ghosts have got everyone spooked and with this killer…”
Patty winced. “A-anyway, I’d guess the normal mood around here is contentment. There has been a consistent population of happy dinosaurs here for a long time. But most of the world isn’t like that. Most don’t stay in one place long enough for an impact to be made and their emotions aren’t usually strong enough to effect the environment. However, if enough people stay long enough in one location, their emotions can seep in and begin to influence the area.”
“But if I’m in a good mood, that isn’t strong enough to effect things,” he said. “I mean, I can’t make a flower bloom by smiling at it.”
“As much as I want you to believe in yourself, you’re probably right.” She smiled. “But it’s more than that. Normally, it’s hard to get everyone to feel a certain way consistently but with the Great Valley, there is a good reason for them to be content. There is enough green food to go around and they rarely have to worry about sharpteeth. After dinosaurs first settled here, this must have elicited a strong sense of goodwill. And when that seeped into the earth, the next time the plants grew back, it would be just a little faster and the sharpteeth would find it a little harder to get in. That maintains the good will. Before long, that good will sinks back in and the green food grows even faster, and so on and so forth, continuing the cycle. It’s the kind of thing that can keep this place going.”
For several moments, there was a thoughtful silence. Patty was watching her surroundings, impressed by the existence of this place. Distantly, there was the sound of a stern voice telling off two kids. Dinosaurs continued to pass and lol around. A twocrest walked by with a spikeback, saying. “I can’t believe that rumor is being spread. People are suspicious enough of visiting herds without someone stirring up trouble.”
“Huh.” Littlefoot said. “That is an interesting theory.”
Patty gave him a wry look. “You don’t believe me, do you?”
“It’s not that.” Littlefoot said quickly. “It’s just I don’t know either way. There are a lot of unbelievable things I hear about but I like to keep an open mind. You’d have to ask Cera, she’s the disbelieving one. It does explain why the valley rarely has a serious food problem.”
He looked around and his mood lowered.
“I wish those who didn’t make it like Mother could see what the valley looked like,” he said. “So many of us had no idea what such a place really had to offer and I had my ideas but they didn’t compare to actually being here for the first time. Some even doubted the valley would be this good. Mother said she could see it with her heart but if she and others could see it like I did, I’m sure they’d be amazed,” he sighed. “Well, there’s nothing we can do about it now.”
Patty watched him sympathetically. “It must hurt there are people you couldn’t help.”
“Kind of, yeah. Looking back, there were many people we passed on our way to the valley who were clearly struggling. I feel guilty we didn’t stop to help. I mean, were all trying to survive on our own and squabbling over food and water. If only everyone could have stopped fighting and worked together to get to the Great Valley, then they might have made it.”
Littlefoot lowered his head. Patty gave him a brief nuzzle.
“I didn’t mean to bring up such painful thoughts,” she said. “You did wonderfully with what’s possible.”
“I know.” Littlefoot sighed. “I wish it wasn’t like this…but I know.”
Patty sighed. “Sometimes we have to make hard decisions in order to survive.”
Littlefoot averted his gaze. “And sometimes we make decisions that make you really question what you can do.”
Patty looked at him speculatively, and he realized how strange that response sounded. Hastily, he shook his head.
“Anyway, let’s get back to tail jumping,” he said. “That’s better than talking about this depressing stuff, right?”
Patty examined him before smiling. “Right. I don’t know if this talk counts as rest but I think we regained enough energy to resume.”
“Yeah. Though I’m a little hungry.” Littlefoot glanced at the line of trees. “Say, why don’t we eat from plants those crestheads messed up. It would make sure the food isn’t wasted.”
“That’s a wonderful idea. Though you have your fill. I don’t need any.”
“Really?” Littlefoot glanced at her with confusion. “You’ve been really working at it with your tail. That must take some energy.”
“I’m fine.” Patty insisted. “I ate enough this morning before meeting up with you. I know how to eat in a way to make it really last. I can always eat later.”
Littlefoot tilted his head. “Okay. You rarely seem tired.”
A smile flickered on her muzzle. “Let’s say I’m very good at being on the go. Though speaking of those on the go…”
“What?” Littlefoot asked.
Patty hesitated but shook her head and smiled. “Never mind. It’s not important now. Anyway, eat up. I’ll be practicing the right speed to spin my tail until you get yourself filled up.”
Puzzled, Littlefoot nevertheless nodded, dragged a branch over, and started feasting, his thoughts far from the worries of the day and more toward the fun that carefully spinning tail promised.
--
“Hit that rock, come on, really hit it!”
Cera staggered back from her latest strike before shaking herself and rushing forward. She and Chomper were back in the fighting grounds, practicing against new rocks. Only the murmurs of passersby broke their solitude, those fighters from yesterday having never showed up. She concentrated on damaging the rock in front her with as few strikes as possible. She thought she was making some progress. More parts of the rock were breaking away with each hit. Maybe she was on a good wind or the rock was weak but she couldn’t help but be pleased by the results.
There was a smack beside her. “Ow!”
Cera glanced to her right as she walked backwards. Chomper had hit the rock with his muzzle and cried out, blinking as he stepped back and touched a cut under his left nostril. He winced.
“Chomper, is that the best you got?” Verter cried.
Chomper shook his head and glared at the rock before almost launching himself for the latest strike. She bit back a sigh. Chomper had been throwing his all into the training ever since it started. Though he got tired and even hurt a few times, he always got back up, insisting they continue. Really, Cera was impressed. His kind, almost naïve nature belied a brave soul willing to do anything for those he cared about. It was understandable Verter would want to nurture it.
Though did he have to give all of his attention to Chomper?
“Harder, Chomper! Go at it like it’s your most hated enemy!”
Cera glared as she prepared to charge again. She glimpsed Verter staring in Chomper’s direction, barely looked her way. She struggled with the mixed feelings in her stomach. Really, it made sense Verter mightn’t be giving her much focus. Cera was a born threehorn, used to this kind of hard work and repetition. Chomper on the other hand had rarely dealt with anything like these threehorn exercises and they were unfamiliar with the sharptooth routine. It was understandable Verter would put more focus in learning about Chomper and encouraging him onward. As yesterday’s talk showed, Verter had at least some method for his eccentricities. He would get back to her eventually. Even if Cera understood, that didn’t mean she had to like it.
In the hubbub of pebbles and fragments bursting from her rock, she heard a similar rocky crackle beside her.
“Harder, harder!”
Cera heard a growl of frustration. Backing up for the umpteenth time, she lowered her head and charged at her fastest rate yet. There was an almighty crack and much of the rock crumbled. A few twinges of pain in her face and horn made her wince but she only felt pride until she heard the scream.
“Aaah!”
Cera jerked around. Chomper lay curled near his rock, gripping his head while rock fragments were dotted around him. Heart skipping, she scampered over and swept away the debris to look him over.
“Chomper, are you okay?” she demanded. “Chomper!”
Chomper groaned. “Hurts. My head hurts!”
A look up confirmed he managed to knock some decent bits off his rock but at the cost of a red sore and some scrapes on his head. Gritting her teeth, Cera glared up as Verter rumbled over.
“What are you playing at?” she snapped. “You’re egging him on got him hurt!”
Wincing, Verter looked away. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know what his limits were.”
“I thought you knew how to handle training others!”
“I said I know how to train adult threehorns. I don’t know much about sharpteeth.”
Chomper rocked on the ground, hands on temples. “Hurts…”
Cera sighed and glanced down. “You at least know how to treat wounds?”
Verter nodded. “That is simple enough. I’ll be right back.”
He ran off, leaving her to stand awkwardly beside Chomper, who lay curled in a ball. A part of her felt guilty she ever had an envious thought about him. She tried to be reasonable about Verter in her head, that training was naturally dangerous and everyone made mistakes, but she couldn’t help a smidgen of doubt opening in her stomach. With the sound of ripping branches and splashes in the background, Cera moved a paw as though to stroke him but with how he winced thought better of it. Verter charged back in.
“Put these on his wounds.” Verter dropped wet leaves beside her. “They’ll clean them and the cool will calm him.”
Cera nodded. She grabbed one leaf with her mouth to put on Chomper’s head but he pulled away.
“I’m alright. Let’s continue training.”
“Are you serious?” she asked. “Those cuts are bad. They need to be treated.”
“But we can’t waste time. I must keep going.”
”If you collapse from your wounds, you won’t be able to keep training at all.” Cera said impatiently. “Where would that leave us? Now sit still and take it.”
Chomper sighed but stayed still as told, twitching as a wet leaf stung into his head wound and a few other smaller cuts. She layered others on, making him look like he wore a wet green mushroom on his head. Verter sighed.
“I guess now would be a good a time as any to take a break,” he said. “We’ll eat until Chomper’s healed enough to continue. Can you carry him to the forest edge, Cera?”
“If I must.” Cera turned to stare Chomper in the eye. “Don’t even think about saying that you can walk. You are riding me and don’t make a fuss. Understand?”
“Okay, okay.” Chomper said, sulky. “Guess I have to be bossed around.”
Ignoring that remark, Cera leaned in and Verter helped shift Chomper onto her back. He was heavier than Ducky or Petrie but it was weight she could handle. She walked with steady steps as she followed Verter to the edge, where he got them into the shade and started looking around.
“Don’t move,” he said. “I’ll forage for food.”
“Sorry I’m making you look for bugs.” Chomper muttered.
“It’s nothing.” Verter assured. “You’re too valuable to deny a meal. Finding bugs is no big deal.”
He began browsing the area, faint foot booms shushed as he paused and visually traced the outlines of the leaves, the bark of the trees, the silhouette of the grass. Cera sat down, taking this opportunity to relax. She glanced at Chomper. He sat slumped next to her, frustrated eyes looking at the earth. This was concerning. Chomper was a happy, sweet-tempered child and this level of anger was beyond him. She glanced at him, hesitated, but took the chance.
“You were really going at it with that rock,” she said.
“We’re supposed to go hard on them.” Chomper said. “That’s what this training is about.”
“But you were going at it like it insulted your mommy. Hard to train when acting like that.”
Verter chuckled. “And if there’s one thing that would motivate us fighting kinds, it’s besmirching the one who gave birth to us. Seriously, she has a point.”
Chomper looked up. He almost glared at them but something in him broke and he sighed. “I know. But what am I supposed to do? I need to make sure I don’t fall behind but no matter what I do, I…”
“You’re doing fine, Chomper.” Verter said, pulling at a few leaves from a high branch. “Not many can do what you’re doing. You’re getting stronger at your own pace.”
“But I can’t go ‘at my own pace’ when there’s a killer around. I’m trying to be faster but that I’m not able to keep up with Cera in running or even rock breaking is-”
Chomper thumped a foot into the ground. Cera looked at him speculatively.
“Is this size thing really bothering you?” she asked.
“It’s not about my size.” Chomper said. “It’s just…I want to help you guys. I want to do more.”
“From what I hear, you helped your friends plenty of times with your sniffer and sharptooth language.” Verter said.
“That isn’t good enough. I hate not being able to do much when my friends get endangered. After everything you all have done for me, it wouldn’t be right for me to sit back, especially after-” he stopped, glancing down awkwardly.
“What?” Cera asked. “Especially what?” At Chomper’s hesitation, she said. “Come on, I won’t laugh. We won’t be able to understand what’s going on if you don’t tell us.”
There were whispers to the side. Verter looked up and a longcrest swimmer and clubtail hidden behind some foliage a bit ahead stopped talking to stare at him. He offered a smile, but they turned and walked away.
“She’s right,” he said, shaking his attention back to the pair. “If this issue is effecting your training, it doesn’t sound like the kind of thing to laugh about. Come on, tell us.”
Cera nodded. Chomper looked between them, hesitating, but he exhaled slowly and met their eyes.
“I’m also doing this for my parents,” he said. “I’m a weirdo sharptooth who likes being nice and seeking friends even in our food, but they accepted me. They were troubled about the seeking friends in food part, but as long I could be tough and smart enough to survive, they allowed me to be who I am. They comforted me after other sharpteeth made fun of me and when I got lonely. They wanted me to be happy. They even fought Red Claw when he got angry me and Ruby’s families were friends but then they got hurt and…”
“Chomper,” Cera’s gaze was sympathetic, “it’s not your fault. There was nothing you could do.”
“That’s the problem!” Chomper threw his hands up. “Our families were friends because me and Ruby became friends. My parents fought to keep us together. That I couldn’t do anything but watch is…” He took a breath. “The least I could do is make sure no one else has to fight my battles. If they knew I could really take care of myself…at least they might be happy.”
“Huh.” Verter’s eyes were raised thoughtfully. “You sharpteeth go through a lot more than I thought.”
Cera nodded. “Was this eating at you this whole time?”
“A little.” Chomper admitted. “But not until these past few days. It’s just, with these ghosts, they made me realize what’s important. You guys have done so much to make sure me and Ruby could stay here. I just can’t stand aside and goof around anymore. I have to actually be useful, even if it’s hard and the challenges just make me-”
Chomper ripped bits of grass in frustration. Cera looked at him with concern.
“Anger has its place but I don’t think this is good for you,” she said.
“That’s kind of weird for you to say, since you’re known for getting angry.” Chomper said. “Anger can be good. It can get me focused.”
“It’s not good all the time. What if it makes you lash out at our friends?”
Verter nodded. “Unfocused anger isn’t very useful. Especially with who you are, don’t you want to be careful about that it?”
Chomper faltered. He lowered his eyes. “I – I don’t want to hurt my friends. But what am I supposed to do with this to keep them safe?”
“You would just need to learn to push aside your emotions.” Verter replied. “When I was talking with Topps back there, I was able to shove my worries aside and enjoy being with an old pal. Outside of training, aside from eating right and not getting your neck broken, you should learn to let go of your worries and enjoy the moment. Heck, you need it to sleep more easily. This will help not only focus your anger during training but life in general.”
“You think so?” Chomper asked.
Cera nodded. “As my daddy say, manage it carefully and put it to something useful.”
“Okay.” Chomper sighed but looked determined. “I’ll do my best to focus my anger on the training.”
There were sighs of relief. Verter broke a stick off a tree and gave it to Chomper, which was covered in bugs. Verter also handed leaves to Cera and they began to eat, Chomper actually looking perked up as he nibbled bugs off.
“I’m glad you two made me see things clearly,” he commented. “It is better to fight for our friends instead of with them.”
“It usually is.” Almost quietly, Cera added. “Boy, did I need to learn that lesson.”
Verter glanced at her. “What was that?”
“Oh, nothing.” She averted her gaze.
Verter examined her before gazing around. “Well, not much crawlies around here I can find. I’ll go check somewhere else.”
“Oh, you don’t need to do that.” Chomper said. “These will be fine.”
“Nonsense! You’re training. My trainees need the best food so they can keep going. Won’t be long.”
With a nod, Verter walked off. Chomper watched him go with a fond smile.
“He’s nice,” he said. “We’re fortunate to have such a good trainer.”
Cera narrowed her eyes to where Verter departed. “Maybe. He wasn’t so good with getting you injured though.”
“Hey, that was my fault.” Chomper protested. “I was getting too in the moment.”
“I know. Still, even if he is inexperienced with sharpteeth, you would think he would know to be careful with that. He wasn’t exactly telling the truth about enjoying being with my dad either. Didn’t you hear them yell earlier?”
“Yeah,” he admitted. “I just thought that was your dad being your dad. Besides, maybe it’s been awhile since Verter trained others?” He looked at her. “Where are all these doubts coming from?”
“I just – oh, I don’t know.” She shook her head. “I guess it’s normal to have doubts the first few days but the way he’s been treating you is kind of weird. He was so ready to jump into training us moments after he finding out friendly sharpteeth exist. I don’t mean to blow this out of proportion but…do you really trust he knows what he’s doing?”
Chomper opened his mouth but uncertainty came in and he rubbed at his chest. They sat in silence until the rumble of a few dinosaurs passing by and whispering came to the fore. Verter came in from that group, bearing some leaves like a cup, gaze troubled.
“Why the long faces?” he asked. “Don’t tell me you talked about the meaning of life while I was away.”
“Huh? Oh, no!” Chomper started, forcing a laugh. “We were just …thinking about how to train better!” He patted his leaf covering and pumped his arms. “I’m feeling much better now. Still sore but I barely notice it.”
Verter surveyed them before smiling. “Well, I have something that might heal things faster.” He laid down leaves with crawlers writhing and crawling on top of them. “Here’s some of the promised grub. Got them on some good leaves, might as well fill both of my trainees’ stomachs.”
“Oh, you shouldn’t have!” Chomper laughed. He licked his lips. “Yum!”
“There are bugs on them?” Cera shuddered. “Gross.”
“Don’t worry Cera.” He pointed to his nose. “My sniffer will make sure your leaves are nice and bug-free before you have a bite.”
She sighed. “Just make sure not to leave too much slobber on them.”
Verter chuckled. “Once you’re done, we’ll resume training. We’ll avoid any more head ramming to allow Chomper’s head time to heal. Speaking of time, Cera…after seeing you help Chomper, I realized I hadn’t been paying as much attention to you as I thought. I apologize. You really did some impressive work on that rock. You’re both valuable to this mission and I should give you both equal due.”
“Huh? Oh, uh, thanks.” Cera said, taken aback. “I’ll make sure to eat when Chomper finishes the leaves.”
Chomper rose from eating to give her a look that said, “See? He knows what he’s doing.” Cera ignored him as he slurped up bugs from the leaves, some of his cheerful energy returning. Verter watched Chomper sniff around for more bugs before smiling at her. She jerked, forced a grin, and looked away. Now he was here, she felt some guilt. With the substantial threat of Mr. Clubtail’s killer, she shouldn’t sabotage their training with her suspicions. Her friends’ words about Verter rose in her head but she shoved them aside. Once Chomper finished eating, she stepped in and attacked the leaves with the determination to put her all into her training.
But a sliver of doubt remained.
--
Ruby stood with Petrie as she watched the various dinosaurs pass by the flyer family nest. The next day had brought a slight ease to the valley residents but most of them still walked cautiously, eyes on the lookout for any sudden movements. In the brief seconds passersby appeared and disappeared amongst the foliage below, she tried to note their body language, what they said if it was audible and with what tone, noting how they acted when another person was in the vicinity. Trying to get a snapshot of each dinosaur’s character was a challenge but she had done some of this in the Mysterious Beyond to wile away her days, so it shouldn’t be that hard, right?
Even as she tried to note the character of the individuals, her attention couldn’t help but stray to how they reacted to others, especially to different kinds. For so many cold times, this diverse intermingling had been her normal but now she tried to pay attention to what made it normal in the first place.
*What is it about the Great Valley that makes my parents and Chomper’s parents think is so great?* she mused. *It must be something about how the kinds relate to other kinds. Let’s see, that domehead passes the threehorn without growling, that threehorn doesn’t glare at the spiketail, the spiketail allows the thicknose to eat from the bush before she does…*
“Please don’t space out, Ruby.”
Ruby jumped. Don stood nearby, cool gaze on her.
“I’m aware it might be difficult for those your age, but do try to pay attention,” he said.
“Of course,” she said. “Sorry.”
Don harrumphed and walked past. Beside her, Petrie sent a sympathetic look. Beyond the sounds of Don pacing, Ruby could hear the chatter of Petrie’s brothers and sister and his parents talking fondly. Ruby thought she saw Petrie’s gaze almost waver to the nest but he stared ahead. Ruby’s heart stung. As someone separated from her family, she didn’t feel it was right he was sacrificing this rare family time to improve his deduction skills for others.
“After minutes of watching,” Don said, “I believe it’s time to assess what you can say about the people below. Don’t look around, just keep watching. When I point to someone, rattle off what you can tell me about them. Ready?” He pointed “That whiptail longneck over there.”
“Huh?” Petrie tilted his head. “Oh. He – she have tail raised, walk straightly, and look around. She trying to, um, guard?”
“Okay, but guard for who, what does this say about her?”
“She is trying to guard herself and anyone that’s nearby.” Ruby said. “She’s experienced with living in the Mysterious Beyond, so she knows how to live in times of crises and wants to help.”
“Adequate.” Don said. “Though the swing of the head does indicate some paranoia. Next: the sprinter in that direction.”
“He have a lot of scars.” Petrie said. “He look very grumpy. He look like – ooh, he get in lots of fights.”
“That is obvious.”
“He is probably the type who fights to maintain his pride.” Ruby said. “Pride is very important to him, so he will do anything to maintain it.”
“Those scars look like they come from punishment for his temper but Ruby’s guess is closer –a natural consequence for a kind whose size requires sneakiness.”
Ruby frowned. It felt good to be validated but not for that validation to be used to for his generalizations. Petrie glanced up with traces of distress
“Well temper and pride often together, so maybe both,” he said.
“But they can be separate.” Don said. “The crestless swimmer to your left.”
“Oh, she…seems to be thinking about something.” Ruby frowned. “Maybe thinking about the killer? She doesn’t seem to be paying much attention to her surroundings, so it must be very deep thought.”
“Most likely about how this crises impacts her family. She has a motherly look in her eyes.”
“What? Oh.” Petrie said. “Me – me think me see that…”
“Not bad, not bad.” Don said. “The spikeback to the right.”
They continued and Ruby kept up as best as she could. Her cold times of observing others in the Mysterious Beyond provided some help but she was discovering many gaps in her knowledge. She had some familiarity with a few kinds but others she barely knew well enough to deduce whether Don’s judgement of them had any basis or not. She had to make up for that. But there were so many kinds out there, so many different ways. Though she felt that was what made the world wonderful, Ruby now found it crushing. How was she going to gather the knowledge to save the Mysterious Beyond from Red Claw in time? She pushed those thoughts down to concentrate but the worry remained. Fortunately, Don called a break after a few minutes and they rested their soothed throats.
“You are getting better.” Don admitted. His lips twitched. “But you have a long way to go.”
“Understood.” Ruby said.
Petrie glanced up at her. “You seem to be doing okay.”
“Okay isn’t good enough,” she said. “Good enough is getting better, more quickly.”
He looked down. “You still say some good things. Me wonder if me getting better.”
“Hey, you are.” Ruby put a hand on his back. “This is just the first round, and for a first round, you made some decent observations. We all get better at our own paces.”
“Is that a good thing? What if killer able to do bad thing because me too slow to learn how to watch and think?”
“Then practice harder and more frequently.” Don said. “Absent of magic, that is the only way to improve.”
Petrie sighed. “More people watching? Me hope it works.”
Ruby hesitated, but saw that now was a good time to make her suggestion. “Maybe we can improve our observation skills by talking to other dinosaurs. By being up close and personal, we can learn who they are.”
Don frowned. “I’m not sure how helpful that is. Dinosaurs do lie to others.”
“Even so, a person’s own words and actions involving you can help you judge what kind of person they are,” she persisted.
“There are still disadvantages,” he said. “For Wing Father’s sake, people hide parts of themselves, especially with strangers. Do you think many people would be honest or want to talk to you in this climate? If anything, they would be suspicious and not many would want to speak with you.”
“That is…” Ruby opened and closed her mouth. “Even with fewer people, it could still be useful. If we hear their reasoning about things, it could expand on how we judge people individually and as part of their kinds.”
“Mistruth and deception will still get in the way. Observing them from a distance is better. If they don’t know you’re watching, they are unguarded and you can judge them without being swayed by how they spin their actions. Some individuals and especially certain kinds love to put a positive light on what they do, especially if it might be suspect.”
“That’s…” Ruby clung her chin reluctantly. “There is a point there. I do remember when people watching in the Mysterious Beyond that people were guarded with others, even if they were nice. I thought here in the valley people might be more honest but in this climate, I guess my idea isn’t that much use after all.”
She looked down, feeling Petrie touch her hand in sympathy. Don watched, wings crossed. His features softened slightly.
“From your limited experience, that was a decent idea,” he said. “Maybe these exercises can help you think of a better one.”
Ruby and Petrie looked up with surprise. Did Don just try to comfort her? His praise of the pair’ progress seemed genuine, albeit grudging, but this was a whole other level. Uncomfortable with their attention, Don coughed and his voice became more businesslike.
“As I was saying, if you want to improve faster, practice more. Let’s resume the exercise. So, what are your thoughts on that squareshi-”
He was cut off by the sound of angry whispering. Starting, they turned to find Papa Flyer irritably waving a paw-ful of berries. Incensed, Mama Flyer pointed hard at one of the kids and whispered back. Petrie’s brothers and sisters looked between their parents, this argument unexpected and unwanted. After another back and forth, Papa Flyer closed his eyes and took a determined breath before talking more calmly. Though annoyed, Mama Flyer relaxed enough to talk him down to handing half the berries over to the kids before walking off to near Petrie, Ruby, and Don’s standing spot, wings crossed. Don exhaled through his nose.
“For Wing Father’s sake, if it isn’t one interruption, it’s another with this family.”
Ruby sent him a look but fortunately Don had said this under his breath, so she didn’t think Mama Flyer heard. Thinking objectively, though, Ruby could understand why. Even if the killer’s threat necessitated it, learning in a noisy family’s presence could be distracting.
“Everything alright?” Petrie asked.
“It’s fine.” Mama Flyer managed a faint smile. “Just a disagreement over what is healthy to feed your brothers. We just need to cool off.”
Petrie’s gaze flicked down. “You even fight over that.” He fidgeted. “Mama, why can’t you and Papa get along more?”
Her comforting expression flickered before she sighed. “Oh Petrie, I wish we could but our personalities clash. It makes it hard to settle disagreements.”
“But why can’t you talk it out? Me talk with friends after fights and me still friends with them after.”
“Settling disputes between friends can be different from settling disputes between mates. It shouldn’t be but…he can be so frustrating, with his unnecessary boundaries, unreasonable suspicion and-” Mama Flyer stopped and forced a breath. “Sorry. I don’t mean to force this on you.”
“It’s only understandable, you know.” Don said.
Mama Flyer glanced at him in confusion. “I’m sorry?”
“The conflict between you two. Male flyers were never meant to be mates.”
Mama Flyer blinked, as though stunned. Then she bristled. “Now you see here, that has nothing to do with our fights.”
“Does it not?” Don asked. “It’s only nature. A mother flyer’s role is to raise the next generation and the male’s is to initiate the process. That is all. Trying to do more only leads to unnecessary conflict.”
“Don’t bring this up to nature! There are many reasons why relationships fail. That you would force this reason on us is -”
“What’s going on?” Papa Flyer walked over, gaze sweeping around.
Mama Flyer pointed. “He’s saying our relationship’s current status is because of flyer nature."
“Is he now?” Papa Flyer’s eyes bore onto Don. “Well, you do like offering opinions on things that aren’t your business.”
“I was merely comforting your former mate with objective facts.” Don said. “It was doomed from the beginning, so there’s only so much blame you can share between you two.”
“What makes you think nature is what happened to us?” Papa Flyer challenged. “Stop with that nonsense. You know nothing about us. We are more than our natures, don’t come in with your generalizations.”
Don looked between Mama Flyer and Papa Flyer, irritated, analyzing. Nervous, Ruby tugged on his wing but he didn’t notice.
“I thought so.” Don said at last. “’More than our natures.’ You were part of that coupling movement.”
“Coupling? Movement?” Petrie repeated. “What you talking about?”
“In your parents’ generation, there was a movement to change flyer tradition.” Don answered. “Male flyers wanted to be with those they mated with and the females wanted a companion to help raise the young. They observed the mating rituals of other kinds and suddenly wanted some version of that relationship. But just because it works for some kinds doesn’t mean it’ll work for us. Your mother and father’s example only demonstrates the movement’s failure.”
“Now don’t you go there.” Mama Flyer said. “With so many pursuing a major change in relations, it’s only inevitable a few will fail. Unfortunately, we are among them.”
“Do you have any facts to back that up?” Don asked. “I’ve heard it’s more than a few. For Wing Father’s sake, we aren’t built for relationships.”
“It’s what we aren’t experienced in.” Papa Flyer retorted. “I know more than a few couples who have succeeded and it has changed their lives for the better.”
“Have you checked to make sure that is still so? They’re likely putting on a front so they could refuse to admit there are challenges or their instincts are rebelling against them.” Don put his hands behind his back “Our way has worked for generations. We shouldn’t change our natures for change’s sake or just to be trendy.”
“Some say that long ago it was common for children not to be taken care of by their mothers.” Mama Flyer retorted. “If that was true, we changed that. Male flyers can do the same to take on roles in mating and parenting. For all your proclaimed wisdoms, you’re unwise about the complexity our own kinds display.”
Don sneered. “I thought veterans of adulthood would have a wiser view on the actions of their youth. Your mothers warned your generation about this and instead of accepting their wisdoms, you continue to dwell in denial. You’re as ignorant and disrespectful as when you first thanked them for attempting to pass down their knowledge by spitting in their faces.”
There was an intake of breath. Mama Flyer’s shocked expression turned into a glare. Petrie gazed up at Don with an angry grit to his beak. Ruby could relate. She wanted to shake Don; this was far out of line. Papa Flyer’s eyes bored into Don’s. He clenched and unclenched his hands, but stayed where he was.
“You know what dear, I change my mind about your brother.” Papa Flyer said. “At least Pterano was sometimes pleasant company. The same can’t be said for this – this…I won’t use that word in front of children. If this is how you always acted, no wonder your former flock kicked you out.”
Don jerked as though slapped. He glared back. Mama Flyer put a hand on her former mate’s shoulder.
“Dear.”
Papa Flyer didn’t seem to notice. Then he turned around. “I’m done. I’ve made my point here.”
He marched back to the nest. Mama Flyer hesitated but followed, her glance at Don not holding much sympathy. Petrie and Ruby stood next to Don, atmosphere tense.
“Why you have to talk like that?” Petrie said quietly. “Mama and Papa being together a good thing. It – it could be better but – why couldn’t you be quiet?”
“Yes, Don.” Ruby put her fists on her hips. “If you had kept your disagreement to yourself, we wouldn’t have argued. And the arguing wouldn’t have upset everyone.”
“It did.” Don murmured.
“Now because we’re upset, me and Petrie will have trouble concentrating on the lesson. Please concentrate on those consequences next time before bringing up your opinions.”
Don grimaced slightly. “As much as I hate considering others’ feelings when a truth must be told…it has value. I wouldn’t have had to deal with that unnecessary drama then.”
He walked over and sat on the edge. Ruby and Petrie continued to glare, but as he remained still, uncertainty set in. Tentatively, they stepped closer. His gaze on the distant mountains was hard and he frowned with grim contemplation. The expression didn’t look unusual on Don’s face, but it was unhappy enough compared to his usual attitude they felt moved to speak.
“Um, you okay?” Petrie said.
“I’m fine.” Don said. “That jab just hit a sore point. A lucky shot. It will go away.”
“When people are made angry, they tend to strike back.” Ruby said. Her tone wasn’t scolding but matter-of-fact. “Sometimes those strikes are very hard.”
“I should have expected that. None of what the young say should hit me but I suppose even my emotions are fickle things.”
“Did – did what cause fickling have to do with what you say yesterday?” Petrie asked. “About your old flock not accepting you back?”
“You also said something about an event a night circle cycle back.” Ruby said. “Is that related?”
Don averted his gaze. “That is none of your business. That’s a private matter.”
“My parents’ relationship also private matter, yet you still talked.” Petrie said. More softly, he continued. “When you have issue, sometimes talking can help.”
Ruby nodded. “Petrie has a point. If you’re training us, it would be advantageous if you’re not distracted by past points of distress.”
Looking at the pair, Don opened his mouth but paused. He gripped his chin, uncertainty weaving in his eyes. After several seconds, he sighed.
“I could do with no distractions.” He adjusted his posture, waving for the pair to sit down. “The event you reference does have a connection to what occurred with my flock. It only confirmed what I knew but…let me give you some background. I had already been kicked out of my flock for a few night circle cycles. I had glimpsed their activities and they sure didn’t appear to miss me. It burned to be thrown away so easily but I came to like having little contact with the ignorant. It meant fewer interruption to my contemplations. Still, it was dull to have no one to share my wisdoms with.
“Then one day, while I was flying around the Mysterious Beyond to clear my thoughts, I heard a cry for help. Far from the valley, I found one of my younger flockmates on a tall rock formation, looking scared and calling for help. I went over to ask him what the trouble was. Apparently while doing some exercise flights, he had got himself blown into the Mysterious Beyond and he forgot which way the valley was. I informed him about the air current that could get him back and he was so relieved. He actually seemed to appreciate my help. That was satisfying but before I could dwell on it, a shadow fell over us.
“It was a sharptooth. A great big sailback with long jaws. It lunged for us but we took off. Maybe it was desperate for food - who knows how they think – but it followed us. We would have normally flown into the sky but our morning flights exhausted us. We barely stayed out of reach. We urged each other on, gave each other tips to fly faster. Even with how terrified he was, he stayed beside me. I thought at least this demonstrated he was loyal to a former flockmate.”
Don’s tone became bitter. “We could feel the sharptooth’s snaps getting closer. I was tiring, falling behind. I am old, I can’t fly as fast as I used to. He kept glancing at me, and I thought he was fearful for my well-being. We continued to urge each other on but at last, on one of those snaps, he screamed and,” his voice broke, “flapped his wings enough to gain a second wind and rise into the sky. Flew away – leaving me behind. After all my wisdoms, he only used me so far as it could help him and once he saw me as a liability, he threw me away. Left me to be eaten like a common creature.
“Of course,” he sighed shakily, “I got away…but only barely. Some of my former flock came to check on me, claiming concern, but I turned them away. Nearly dying made me learn something – I can’t trust anyone to be reliable. Whether it’s for intelligence or compassion, they will let you down. I had enough of that, so I cut all ties with them. I would be on my own, improving my knowledge. I would prefer people engage with my ideas but if sticking to my views means that I have to be alone, so be it. I won’t compromise the truth for the fancy of others.”
Don exhaled slowly. Ruby and Petrie stared as they sorted through the mix of emotions swirling in them. Ruby tried to comprehend it – a friend, maybe even a child of a friend you knew your entire life, abandoning you out of fear. Placing any of their friends in that position made her heart ache.
“Wow, that just,” Petrie waved, “me not think it something that big.”
“It sounds like this flyer was appreciative but got scared and ran,” Ruby said, “but abandonment by impulse is still something you have a right to be angry about.”
“If nothing else, danger shows who your true allies are.” Don replied. “Sometimes relations can never be the same. It’s best to cut those ties and move on.”
“R-really?” Petrie murmured. “Even if it would be better to try to fix things you care about?”
“You can try, but no matter how much we fight it, there are relationships that can no longer be repaired.”
Petrie glanced at his parents as they engaged with their children, in the nest but standing apart. He gave a sad sigh.
“Anyway, that must have been hard.” Ruby said. “We hope talking about that hard thing at least helped a bit.”
“Yes,” Don stood, “I…do appreciate you listened to my story. That is a very unusual thing from your generation. It did help focus me on what’s really important.”
Ruby and Petrie sat up. Don was looking at them from the side, having challenge maintaining eye contact. Slowly, they smiled.
“So we return to lesson?” Petrie asked.
“Of course.” Don turned to them, all severe business again. “We wasted enough time. For Wing Father’s sake, we need to get our focus back on finding the killer’s identity. Let’s resume our scenario debates.”
“We’re going to break off from people judging to debating?” Ruby said skeptically. ”Wouldn’t finishing off where we started mean we start debates on a better foot?”
“Everything will make sense in time.” Don waved for them to walk from the cliffs and sit in a circle near the path walls. “We shall revisit a theme from yesterday: scheming. Whoever killed Mr. Clubtail is a cunning sort. Related to this, do you think he did the deed for some other purpose?”
Ruby frowned. “Don’t tell me we’re going to look at ‘scheming dinosaurs’ again? Looking in that way would only be a distraction.”
“If a kind has a certain tendency, it’s only natural to search for suspects among them.” Don said irritably. “But yes, we shouldn’t limit ourselves. No matter the temperament, all dinosaurs are scheming in some way. Not even the aggressive are exempt.”
“The aggressive…” Ruby repeated.
She and Petrie exchanged concerned glances, Don’s words bring a certain green threehorn to mind. Verter had bragged about his fighting record yet appeared so friendly. Ruby remembered how quickly his smoothed over his disappointment Cera’s parents rejected his request to train her and Chomper, transitioning back to bantering with Chomper and Cera’s family and making them laugh again. As soon as it occurred to her, Ruby dismissed this old suspicion as silly. Some didn’t tend to dwell on the negative; she knew people like that. Nevertheless an unsettled feeling lingered in her stomach…
Soon she and Petrie shall shake themselves and attempt to return to the debate but for several seconds Don watched closely as confusion and worry plagued their expressions.
They didn’t notice the guilt that flickered through his eyes.
Next time…
Part 2
Part 2
--
Note: Didn't quite make the end of August but the week after isn't too late. Knocking on wood, I hope to post part 2 next week.