June 2020 Fanfic Prompt Entry.

FFN Link: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13615460/1/The-Propeller-Swimmer

Description: Born with an abnormally large and cumbersome tail which inhibited her ability to walk, let alone swim, Pellie had the odds stacked against her from the very moment she hatched. This is the tale of how a stubbornly determined swimmer managed to overcome the odds and turn what was once her greatest disability into her greatest asset.

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Words in italics represent character thoughts.

Been looking forward to this one for quite a while! The theme for the Gang of Five Fanfic Prompt of June 2020 is: Adapting.

Potential minor spoilers for The Swimmer Trials by Beaucephalis/The Lone Dragon from Chapter 67 onwards. You don't have to read his story before reading this one, but if you did I think you'd be pleasantly surprised with some tie-ins here.

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"Me? I am a longneck too, see? And I have a lonngggg tail like you!"
— Ducky, The Land Before Time

Chapter 1: Hatching Worries

To most dinosaurs, walking was a necessary ability for them to survive, and one which they took for granted.

But to Ruddy and Hull, it was something that they knew their youngest child would have considerable trouble with from the exact moment the two adult swimmers witnessed it hatching from its egg.

…tail-first.

This particular egg was the last of three to hatch, and though both parents tried to quash the lingering thought about the runt of the litter usually being weaker than their older siblings, the first thing which struck both of them was the size and shape of the tail that had broken through the fragile eggshell.

It had snapped vertically upwards in one swift motion, the force flinging a decent chunk of the membrane previously surrounding it away from the nest as the gray appendage jutted straight up into the air, now freed of its restrictive prison.

What worried the parents, however, was the abnormally large size of the tail when compared to the egg that surrounded it. Considering the sheer strength exerted by the tail as it broke through the eggshell and its size in relation to the remainder of the egg underneath it, they were forced to come to a grim conclusion with some nasty implications that no parent ever wanted to have to face.

That was not at all considered the shape of a normal tail for a hatchling to have, especially when Dribble and Penny could be used as a basis of comparison, the two hatchlings having hatched earlier in the day before the Bright Circle had descended.

Needless to say, the shape of the newborn's tail almost looked like it was the tail of a longneck, but Hull had seen his mate lay her eggs with his own eyes and was certain that it was their child. He gently gripped his mate on her shoulder as a show of support. As if on cue, the cracked egg lost its balance due to the large tail protruding from the domed surface and rolled on its side, splintering into pieces and revealing the hatchling within.

Ruddy let out a choked sob when she saw the hatchling break free from her confines and stretch out her limbs while exposing her underbelly, the mother leaning closer so that she could examine her newborn child from head to toe.

…or in this case, from head to tail.

Unfortunately, it was just as they had suspected. A birth defect in the tail, practically a death sentence for their species given that swimmers used their limbs and tail to assist with swimming. With one's tail overextended like this, it would be exceptionally hard to control, and it wasn't a far stretch to extrapolate that the child's ability to regulate and control their movement would be exceptionally hard, perhaps even impossible.

Curse the Big Water… why, oh why, must this happen to us, Hull wanted to say, though he stilled his tongue for his mate's sake. Despite trying to pull himself together, he felt his heart shattering when he caught sight of his child's inquisitive aquamarine eyes, shining as it reflected the dim light of the Night Circle above.

So young and vibrant, and yet so likely to have their life snuffed out of them by nature before ever reaching the Time of Great Growing. There was a reason that swimmers had many children, and it was because many of them didn't make it to adulthood before meeting a grisly end. To be afflicted with a crippling disability only further diminished the already measly odds of survival that all swimmer children found themselves being stacked against.

Unaware of all of this, the infant slowly wagged its oversized tail from side to side.

"It's a girl," Ruddy eventually stated, beak pressed into a small smile as her daughter started to let out a contagious giggle upon realizing the two large swimmers in front of her were enraptured by her tail, following it with their eyes.

"Gah, she's a really cute one, too." Hull pursed his beak, pointedly scratching his sharpened head crest. This particular child of theirs had inherited the same light gray skin as the rest of her family, and also shared the rounded crest at the back of her head with… well, everyone but him. "Well, what should we name her?" he asked Ruddy with a shrug of his shoulders, "Any ideas, dear?"

As if their daughter could somehow decipher and interpret what her parents' intentions were, she proceeded to obediently make eye contact with them, kicking her tiny feet about as she continued lying on her back. When she noticed the two adults getting closer, the swimmer suddenly bristled in fright, swinging its large tail in an upwards arc and covering her belly with it, which only further made it apparent that her body was positively diminutive relative to her imposing tail.

"Oh dear… I think she's a little frightened, Hull." Ruddy held her arm out to the side, beckoning her mate to take a few steps back. "Give her some space."

The child promptly calmed down when the shadows that had previously loomed over her body retreated backwards. As if on cue, Ruddy snapped her fingers in excitement right at that moment, muttering a single word.

"Pellie."

Hull incredulously glanced back and forth between his mate and his child. "Pellie?" he repeated.

"You heard me right, dear. I think that this precious little dear should be named Pellie. Well, do you have any objections with that name?"

"Nope," he shook his head, before softly rolling the name around with his tongue and finding that Ruddy had made a good choice. Pellie was a nice name. Their little Pellie… yep, it was perfect.

The poignant moment was then broken in an instant when the newly-named Pellie attempted to get up from her belly-up position, only to end up struggling to even lift her head because her lengthy thin tail kept getting in the way.

Both Ruddy and Hull's hearts broke when it dawned on them that their daughter couldn't even get herself into a sitting position. Aside from her tail, Pellie hadn't shifted from her prone posture since she'd hatched, and now the prospect of her being able to move on her own accord at all seemed dimmer than the darkened depths of the Big Water. Her eyes soon flashed with horror when she realized that she couldn't maneuver herself. Pellie continued to writhe, thrashing her body about at random in hopes that she could somehow prop herself up.

Hull averted his eyes from the sight, unable to deal with the facts staring him in the face. The gray swimmer placed his palm in front of him to mask the tendons of his face contorting with agony.

Putting Pellie out of her misery now almost seemed like it would be an act of mercy. The only defense that swimmers had against predators were large numbers in a group and their increased mobility when in water, so it was almost a guarantee that the poor girl would almost certainly wind up as sharptooth fodder if it turned out that she truly was permanently incapacitated…

"Look, Hull!" Ruddy's voice broke the male out of his stupor. "The reason Pellie can't get into a sitting position is not because she's paralyzed… it's because she can't get a foothold thanks to her tail."

Hull jerked his head back to look closely at his thrashing daughter, realizing with a start that his mate was right — the reason Pellie couldn't get up was because she was unable to get a proper footing on the ground thanks to her abnormally large tail. Normally an infant swimmer's feet were roughly close in size to their tail, but in this special case the size discrepancy caused her feet to be unable to touch the ground from her current position.

Ruddy eventually decided to help Pellie out, reaching down to lift up her body so that the young swimmer could finally get into a sitting position. To the adult's surprise however, the brief expression of relief on Pellie's face was quickly replaced by an annoyed pout. She almost seemed frustrated that she had to be aided into a sitting position through the assistance of a third party.

"Oh man. I can clearly see that she's a feisty one," Hull observed the antics of his daughter as Pellie glowered at her mother, letting out an amused chuckle at the irony of it all. Of course the child who was the most disadvantaged by fate would also happen to be the one who was the least likely to take such a weakness lying down… of course that would be his luck.

Ruddy snorted at the remark. "She gets it from you, Hull," she playfully bantered.

"Ugh. And here I thought that her tail would be the only issue we would have to deal with." Hull clutched his head, feeling a migraine slowly coming. "This girl is definitely going to be a heap of trouble when she grows up, I can already foresee…"

…in more ways than one, too.

Hull frowned. There was something else that was nagging at his mind too from the moment he realized how helpless and fragile Pellie was.

"Ruddy? I think we should join up with a herd…"

The female whirled around, shocked at his declaration. "Did I hear you correctly, Hull?" she eyed her mate with a melancholic expression. "Didn't we meet each other solely because we both didn't agree with the traditionalist mindset borne by our respective herds and chose to leave when we were older? Don't tell me you're actually thinking of giving up our independent lifestyle just to go back to that!"

"I didn't finish, dear," Hull interjected, holding up his hand to cut in. "Since when did I say that we would have to join up with a traditionalist herd?" he proceeded to specify, his clarification earning a sigh of relief from his relieved mate. "Come on, Ruddy, you know me. We suffered under those heinous traditions! There is no way I'd ever let our children grow up the way we did!"

Hull abruptly paused, clamping his beak shut as his eye drifted over first to Pellie, then to their other two children who were peacefully sleeping by the side of the nest. "Crud… I almost woke them with that outburst," he muttered.

"Be careful, Hull," Ruddy chided teasingly. "If you already can't handle Pellie on her own, wait until Dribble and Penny both wake up."

"Anyway!" Hull coughed. "Not every herd out there will be like our childhood herds. We just have to find the right one to join, Ruddy. Once we do, the safety of numbers in a herd is more than worth the sacrifice of free volition, especially with Pellie here," he said, gesturing towards a still-grouchy Pellie. "If it's just us out here in the Mysterious Beyond with zero protection and a sharptooth ambushes our family… you and I both know that a swimmer like her will practically be finished."

His dire words hung in the air. Ruddy exhaled a tired breath, tilting her head up and gazing the starry skies above.

"I think you're right, Hull…" she finally admitted. "Let us discuss more and make preparations regarding that tomorrow morning, it is getting rather late." The swimmer then let out a yawn, sluggishly dragging her feet over to Pellie.

"Still, before we turn over for the night, I think we should at least introduce Pellie to her older brother and sister."

Before Pellie could let out a squeak in protest, she was being carted in her mother's arms off to her snoozing siblings, squirming defiantly every step of the way until she was lowered back to the ground.

Hull chortled at the sight, earning himself an annoyed glare from his mate. Rolling her eyes at him one more time for good measure, Ruddy let her frustration simmer away as she gently pat a rambunctious Pellie on the head, slowly coaxing the hatchling to sleep.

Yep. She was definitely going to be a handful.

When Hull saw Pellie drifting off, he decided to lay down for the night as well, with Ruddy following suit barely moments after him.

He could hardly wait for Dribble and Penny to meet their younger sister when they all woke up tomorrow. As far as he could tell, the three children would at least be together for the foreseeable future.

As for what an uncertain future would bring to their precious Pellie, all the anxious parents could do was to wait and see.

The only thing which Hull could hope for was that life would be lenient to her.

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Author's Note:

What's this? I'm actually early for the fanfic prompt for once? Blasphemy.

If you're an avid reader of The Swimmer Trials you might happen to recognize the name of this swimmer hatchling, and you'll probably be right, because yes, Pellie happens to be the swimmer OC that I submitted for that story.

Last December there was a call to action for anyone who wanted to submit their own swimmer characters to participate in the eponymous Swimmer Trials, and of course I snapped that opportunity up after being prodded and sent in my own creation. While drafting up my OC template for submission, I'd managed to flesh out Pellie's backstory enough to decide to give the disadvantaged swimmer her very own story. I really gained a soft spot for Pellie after creating her, I must admit.

This is my first Land Before Time story carried solely by original characters, something I've been apprehensive on doing for a while since I was uncertain if I could succeed in having OCs carry a fic by themselves for the longest time, but I have to give it a try haha! I've already done character studies of many canon characters, after all, so who's to say I can't attempt it with my own creations.

Guido looks like he's about to let out a rant...

Caption away!

January 2020 Fanfic Prompt Entry. Barely made the cut once more, but here's over 20,000 words of delicious sweet angst and tragedy.

FFN Link: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13514349/1/Snowballed-Lies

Description: A chance encounter with a wise wanderer enabled a young child's inner propensity to get what he desired by acting in certain ways. But when those tiny lies end up snowballing into an impeccable façade that is constantly being maintained by an increasingly paranoid individual, what happens when it all comes crashing down? Prequel-of-sorts and a different POV to Five Stages of Grief.

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Words in italics represent character thoughts or flashbacks.

A/N: As this fic follows Mr. Thicknose's point of view in Five Stages of Grief, my August 2018 Fanfic Prompt Entry, it is highly encouraged (though not required, as knowledge of the events that take place in LBT VIII: The Big Freeze is sufficient) for you to read that story first if you want additional context from Ducky's perspective and wish to treat this as a supplementary tale to FSoG. And just like in that story, here's my trigger warning of certain themes in this story. This gets very tragic, especially if you are aware of how these events play out.

The Gang of Five forum fanfic challenge prompt themes (and yes, there is a reason I'm showing all three of the minor prompts this time ) for the month of January 2020 are:

…

One word prompt: Perplexed

Dialogue prompt: "He/she had seen much in his/her life, but nothing had prepared him/her for this."

Major prompt: Never mind how old we are, or how much experience we obtain, life has a way of throwing unexpected surprises in our direction. Write a story where a character is confronted with something that confounds them and which forces them to reconsider some of their previous ideas. This can be played romantically, humorously, or seriously, depending on your preference.

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Romantically, humorously, or seriously? Take one guess as to how this will end up playing out. One. Guess.

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"Learning to learn is part of learning!"
— Ruby, probably

Snowballed Lies

"You are a wise child, Arbor. My special boy… I truly believe with all my heart that you were hatched to do great things."

This was something which his mother had constantly stated to him all throughout his early childhood — that he was gifted with a curious mind from the very moment that he had hatched out of his egg.

As soon as the young thicknose gained the ability to verbally articulate his thoughts through the gift of speech at a relatively young age, Arbor made sure to take full advantage of it to sate his endless curiosity. A fond and inquisitive smile often graced the small child's face as he constantly raised questions with regards to the so-called natural order of things.

"Mommy, who's that? Why does he have something pointy sticking out of his face?"

"That is a threehorn, dear… and please refrain from saying that within earshot of one."

"Huh? Why? What's so bad about saying it? Those things are so obvious! I can clearly see them with my own two eyes!"

"Arbor, please… drop it. I'll tell you next time."

"But mom, I wanna know now! I just have to know exactly what's up with that pointy thing he has on his face!"

"…what did you say, you petulant punk!? You dare insult my horn so nonchalantly?! Say that again to my face, brat! Damn kid, I'll let you know just how 'pointy' this thing really is!"

"A-Ack! Sc-scary grown-up… mommy, h-help! Help me!"

"Don't hurt my Arbor! Please, forgive my child! He doesn't know better… Arbor, hurry and apologize to the threehorn! Quickly, right now!"

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I didn't mean it, mister, I really didn't!"

"You better be sorry, boy! And you… what sort of mother are you? How dare you let your son freely insult my frill and horns — a threehorn's pride and joy? What sort of hands-off parenting approach is this? You should be glad I wasn't in a bad mood when I heard that, else he'd be eating dirt right now! I swear, kids these days…"

"T-Thank you… I promise to make sure that Arbor will show his respect to threehorns such as you in future! This will not happen again, I swear!"

"For his sake, it better not! And let me tell you something, kid… there is such a thing as being too curious for your own good!"

He could recall chuckling at the memory in his youth, brushing off the threehorn's warning as the ramblings of an irritated grown-up. What was so bad about being curious? Even on the few occasions where he bit off more than he could chew, he still came away from it more enlightened, if a bit more cautious whenever it came to encroaching such topics in future.

The thing was, there was literally no disadvantage that Arbor could see when it came to being the wisest hatchling simply by knowing more than others his age. It pleased him to learn the answers to questions which he didn't even know he had, or better still, already know the answers to those questions either through a bit of inference, or simply relying on prior knowledge when he'd previously come across the topic beforehand. Now that always gave the young child a distinct sense of pride.

Besides, he was an unusual kid. Called him gifted, but he intrinsically found himself more attuned to the process of learning and education compared to many of his peers. Where most other kids who were around his age would derive enjoyment from befriending others and playing games, Arbor instead derived it from learning new things… though such a mentality did affect him on a social scale.

Arbor didn't mind it, though. Being socially awkward because he loved to learn about his environments instead of wasting his free time playing around wasn't really an issue so long as he had his mom as a listening ear and support — the question of "where's dad?" was quietly shot down when he'd asked once, and after that he learnt not to prod.

Besides, with all the knowledge he was slowly accruing from the barrage of questions which he had his mom and a few other grown-ups answer to sate his eagerness in understanding the world around him, that was all he really needed. Simple and frugal, but it worked, so why bother messing with things that didn't need to be messed with?

To put it bluntly, life was rather good to Arbor. Over time, things had fallen into a simple and predictable pattern for the young thicknose — he shyly stayed away from his peers unless they needed his expertise (in which case he would come barreling in like a storm and lecture them until the information that they required was pounded in their head), relentlessly pestered and interrogated the grown-ups whenever there was something he didn't know, and generally drove his good-natured mother crazy when she ended up receiving quite a few agitated complaints from the adults he'd irritated, though it never quite reached the level as the threehorn he'd once insulted.

All went well for him, and he quickly acclimatized to this cycle of brashly gleaning information for himself. Unbeknownst to the young dinosaur however, one day, everything was to change.

The ironic thing was that as far as he could recall, for all intents and purposes that day had started out normally. Astounding as it was, nothing out of the ordinary occurred at first. He had groggily woken up, helped himself to a healthy helping of treestars as he always did, before noting a strange anomaly while furtively scanning his surroundings.

In this small community, Arbor knew every kid and adult—every last one of which were targets for him to coax more knowledge from—by name and face. But on that very day, there was someone there who he did not recognize — basically, a complete newcomer to his home.

Many cycles of the Night Circle later, and yet he was still able to vividly remember the first time he had laid eyes on the new guy, right down to being able to describe the whole scene in excruciatingly precise detail.

That was how much of an impact this moment would have on his life.

"Mommy, who's that?" he asked, intrigued when he noticed a large green dinosaur grazing in the distant plains. "I remember the faces of all the grown-ups, and I've never seen him before."

His mom followed his gaze, squinting her eyes as she peered in the distance. "You have a keen eye, Arbor," she muttered, "That dinosaur is known as a wandering farwalker, someone who travels across the lands outside of our home."

Arbor's attention was instantly piqued. "You mean the perilous Mysterious Beyond? Sweet! One day I'll know everything there is to learn about that place!"

"Settle down, Arbor. You won't be leaving the sanctuary we currently live in for some sort of reckless exploration so long as I draw breath," his mom chided. "Most of the wanderers such as this guy usually don't have a choice of settling down. Usually these farwalkers are members of traveling herds, and for them to find the valley isn't exactly what you would call a common occurrence. We live in a very hidden and reclusive place, Arbor. Newcomers don't stumble across us often."

"Yeah, the Great Valley," Arbor proceeded to recite a description of his home from memory after he made a show of exaggeratedly clearing his throat — he'd always liked attention. "Luscious and green with a plentiful supply of food and water, the valley boasts itself to be a safe haven for flattooths that protects its inhabitants from danger and sharpteeth."

Arbor's mother proudly nodded at her son's synopsis, though her exasperated face hinted that she didn't quite approve of the pompous faux-adult tone that he used while reciting it. "You are most correct, Arbor. I should stress that the valley we take for granted today would not have remained the fabled urban legend that it is if it can be easily discovered by anyone. Farwalkers have it tough, for the journey across the treacherous mountain range to arrive at this destination is not one that I am confident to make nowadays. Gee, I'm getting old…"

"You certainly are, mommy!" Arbor bluntly agreed, prompting his mom to incredulously shake her head at her son's insensitivity.

"Arborrrrr…" she whined, her voice strained. "…what am I going to do with you?" the female whispered an almost inaudible addendum to the elongated name.

He turned towards his mother as he heard her chiding tone, his head bowed low. "Yes?"

She quickly regained her composure, looking at her son sternly. "Just be careful, dear. One of these days, you will get yourself into trouble with that attitude of yours. Charging headfirst into an uncertain situation with your head held high is the threehorn way, and you know how that tends to end!"

"Don't worry, I'll definitely be cautious!" Arbor reassured with a peppy voice. "Cross my heart!"

An eyebrow twitched. "That's exactly what I was afraid of…" she mumbled, but forced a smile nevertheless.

"La-la-la-la-laaaa~!" A jaunty Arbor sang in an off-key voice as he haughtily marched off before his mom could react. "I can't hear youuuu!"

Incredibly, Arbor somehow managed to suppress the rambunctious laughter that threatened to spill from his lips until he rounded the corner and was out of his mother's sight.

While he did love his mommy tenderly with all his heart, he still wasn't able to resist the innate urge to tease her.

Getting the worst of his laughing fit under control, Arbor then set his eyes on his target, stalking the farwalker from afar as stealthily as he could.

As he approached, the young child was able to make out the dinosaur's more pronounced features. Arbor scrunched his face up when he realized he hadn't quite seen anyone like him before. The wandering visitor had a greenish-grey hue, three rows of rounded spikes adorning his back, and a tail-bopper he knew to be synonymous with clubtails. However, his spikes didn't look like the distinct plated ridges of adult spiketail, and aside from his tail he didn't appear to fit the description of a normal clubtail either.

This only made Arbor more intrigued. Just who was he?

Well, he was about to find out the answers soon enough. He whistled innocuously as he slowly closed in the distance between them. By the time the distracted adult realized that a child was gaining onto him, it was already too late. Arbor didn't give him a chance to escape the conversation, clearing whatever little distance remained between them with a brisk trot and proceeding to look at him with the sappiest eyes he could muster.

This always works on mommy whenever I want to get her to spill things to me… it'll definitely work on this guy too!

"Hey, kid. What are you looking at me like that for? I know you're after something… so spill, what do you want from me?"

Arbor dropped the pleading eyes, stunned as he found himself the recipient of a husky growl and brusque accusation. The tone of voice turned out to be a surprise to him. His sullen and discolored eyelids had given Arbor the impression that he was elderly, but the firmness and coarse tone instead told a different story, suggesting that he was much younger than he appeared.

However, age wasn't Arbor's main concern at the moment. What mattered more was that his victim didn't budge or so much as offer to give him the time of day, instead trying to brush him off immediately. Amazingly, he was somehow refusing to concede, unlike most of the other grown-ups that Arbor had cracked after continuous pestering. This guy, on the other hand, simply had a plainly dispassionate look on his face, one which flagrantly said 'stop wasting my time'.

Being subject to that disdainful gaze played a part in Arbor deciding to be truthful. "Well, I just want to talk," he said, eyes unconsciously flicking over to the tall mountains surrounding the sides of the valley, mountains which the visitor surely must have scaled across. "I was looking around the valley when I chanced upon you. I didn't recognize your face, and I know everyone, so I figured you must be new around these parts!"

"Who would've thought?" The initial gruffness of his voice softened, displaced by the new emotion of amusement infused in his perky tone. "Usually when I go places, I get mobbed by the ones in charge. This is the first time I've seen a herd getting a kid to perform that role." He paused, looking closely at Arbor for a decent while as he was sizing the child up. "Say, didn't your momma ever tell you not to talk to strangers?"

"Oh, she did!" Arbor laughed, a confident smirk quickly forming. "But I don't listen to her, hee!"

A ruminating chuckle escaped the visitor. "You're rather thick-skinned for a young hatchling, aren't you? Poking your nose into such adult affairs…" The grown-up looked at him oddly, tilting his large head at an angle as his eyes twinkled with amusement. Arbor scowled in return, quickly discerning the sneaky verbal pun that the adult had made using his species name — "thick-skinned nose".

"…tch." The grownup cleared his throat. "Hey, kid. You're one of those who can't wait to grow up, aren't ya?"

That question certainly got Arbor's attention. "Oh, you bet!" he found himself readily agreeing. "I have to grovel up to everyone just so I get a chance to learn that sparse bit more! It's not fair that the grown-ups hog all this useful knowledge to themselves just because I'm a kid!"

"That's unusual," the adult mused, crinkling his nose with an emotion behind it that Arbor couldn't quite decipher. His best guess was that it was yet another case of the adults being frustrated of constantly being one-upped by another kid and thus the result of him implicitly showing his displeasure about the situation. Although Arbor was truthful about his reasons for talking to him, the grown-up likely thought that it was just some kid trying to pull the treestar over his eyes.

"Don't laugh because I'm a kid! It's my interest and passion!" Arbor held his head high, frill pointing to the sky. He couldn't help but to let a bit of outrage into his voice. Just because he was different and challenged the conventions of what to meant to be a kid often made him either overlooked or belittled. Being profiled alongside all the other children and treated accordingly was frustrating to deal with long-term when he was far from the norm. "It's not my fault that a bunch of ornery threehorns refuse to facilitate a discussion with me!"

Alright, I've laid the bait. He has to take this! Wait for it…

"Ornery?" With a single brow raised and the new dinosaur actively spinning on his heel to peer closely at a grinning Arbor, it was clear that his interest had definitely been piqued. "That's not a word I hear the young'uns use very often. It's one of those fancy insults we use to make fun of bad-mannered threehorns without them rockheads knowing what it means. Wherever would a kid like you pick a term like that up, I ponder?"

Gotcha, old man! Hook, line, and sinker!

"I heard my mommy say it behind a mean threehorn's back after he threatened me!" Arbor declared proudly, grinning from ear to ear. Success! He had definitely managed to catch his target's attention. Now all he had to do was to reel him into casual conversation and figure out if the new guy had any information which he could add to his repertoire.

The dark green adult let out a chuckle, though due to his size it almost came off as a bellow. "Well, threehorns aren't the most meditative species. You should consider yourself lucky that you and your mother made it out unscathed," he said, looking at Arbor's body for any signs of scars. "Did you bruise their ego, perchance?"

Arbor's eyes went wide when he found himself being pre-empted. He was going to ramble about the threehorn story and use it as a lead-in to his next sentence so that he could find out more about threehorns as he'd very quickly learnt that approaching one to consult about the intricacies of their own species was an extraordinarily biased source of information.

Yet, the grown-up had somehow picked up on his intentions and forestalled that plan. How did he know what Arbor had done to upset the threehorn, even before he revealed it?

There was another chuckle as the newcomer took a furtive glance at Arbor's dumbfounded appearance. "You can stop gaping at me, little fella. Your face is very easy to read."

"W-wait… you were reading my reactions…!" A distraught Arbor finally worked out how the adult disrupted the flow of the conversation he had wanted to control by managing to guess the very conversation topic that he was anticipating to plant. The thicknose's eyes hovered to the ground in shame when it hit him that he had been legitimately bested in a battle of words.

It wasn't often that adults got the better of too-intelligent-and-nosy-for-his-own-good little Arbor… normally, it was the other way around. But it appeared that this time around, he was the one that had been caught flat-footed, and he didn't like it. He desired having complete control over how his conversations went. He hated having the adults view him as a kid and curate their speeches just for him because of his age. Adamantly. Hated. It.

"Of course I was eyeing you." The answer was spoken in a dismissive manner, almost as though the farwalker couldn't believe that he had to explain himself. "Observation is an essential skill to have in the Mysterious Beyond. One would likely die young if they were distracted out there."

Arbor was unable to tell if the grown-up was being smug or not about gaining the upper hand over him. Nevertheless, he scowled at the confirmation, now uncertain of exactly where he stood in the conversation. He was so used to cornering adults and getting the answers he demanded from them that the likelihood of him being scrutinized under someone else's adamant gaze never even occurred to him. Most of them gave in to his pestering, so to have the situation completely upended and flipped right back onto him was a foreign feeling.

But then again, who would have thought that his own body would end up being the very thing that would betray his intentions to the newcomer? Traitor.

Arbor hid the silver of an irritated frown behind an impassive and pointedly neutral expression. He was still irked by the grown-up's uncanny perceptiveness, but he didn't want to let the adult derive any further insights out of him. Meeting his match in an adult was enough to grate on him, he didn't want the observant farwalker to capitalize on his ability to completely figure out his entire life story or something.

"Gah, I admit defeat." It took a lot for Arbor to swallow his pride, but he put aside his ego in hopes of salvaging his botched first impression. "I still can't believe this… you're the first guy to ever get the better of me through sheer wit alone. But seriously, mister, you didn't have to freak me out like that!"

The adult flicked his tail from side to side, face turning contemplative. "Well, I would think your worldview might be a bit narrow if I'm seriously the first person to challenge you. Adversity is part and parcel of life, so for you to claim that you've never faced it before is not only conceited, but also a contentious point of view," he finally stated, his tone disapproving.

"But that said, I do understand why you would think that way," he softened his harsh demeanor, looking at Arbor with serious eyes. "You're a kid, and a fortuitously sheltered one at that. It's only natural that you have yet to face situations that have spun completely out of your control — scenarios where you feel totally helpless and have to weather out the storm on your own," he explained. "Now I can't say that I know who you were at odds with, but being the largest swimmer in the pond means nothing out there in the Big Water. You're puny by comparison in the grand scheme of things, little fella."

Arbor gnashed his teeth in frustration, his head overwhelmed by the unfamiliar term. Curiosity eventually won out against his apprehension, and he tilted his head towards the visitor. "Um, what exactly is a 'Big Water'?" he asked hesitantly, idly fidgeting with his hind feet and crushing blades of grass in the process as his limbs shifted back and forth.

"You see what I mean!? You've perfectly proven my point without even meaning to," he boomed in response, his voice boisterous. He made eye contact with Arbor, smiling fondly at the child. "You are a resident of the valley, correct? Am I right to assume that you've never ventured out to the Mysterious Beyond?"

Although he really didn't want to, Arbor shook his head, promptly wincing when he saw the adult sigh.

"I thought so, little fella. Ever heard of the tale about the hopper in the gorge?"

"No…" Arbor trailed off, but quickly held his ground with a shaky smile. "But I know what a hopper is! I don't get where you're going with this analogy, mister. What does a gorge have to do with a mere hopper?"

The dinosaur's sullen eyes unconsciously rolled upwards, signifying that he was apparently reminiscing about a melancholic memory. "A gorge is a landmark that's even narrower than a valley like the one we're in right now, but is similarly surrounded on both sides by steep cliffs. In that sense, you're synonymous with a hopper who's trapped in a narrow gorge and making the fallacy of thinking that it is their entire world. You and the hopper lie ignorant to the fact that a swath of great unknowns lie just outside your dwelling should you venture out of your comfort zone."

With shining eyes, he gazed down at the attentive Arbor. "It's only natural that you think you know everything, but in reality you've only discovered but a mere fraction of what this world has to offer. The rest is but a vast unknown, and without any knowledge of its existence and the willingness to take risks, you would never discover the truths that experience will bestow upon you."

Such an enigmatic grown-up. Arbor couldn't help but be fascinated, completely entranced by his words.

Noticing that he had successfully managed to enrapture Arbor, the adult's jawline widened from side to side to form a soft smile. "This is why farwalkers like myself migrate all the time. With continual change comes new experiences, and different experiences means that you can always look forward to a new and unique day tomorrow. That's something you don't get if you are complacent and perfectly content with living a mundane existence, opting to stay put in one place." He paused and gave a cursory glance around the valley, but quickly barreled on, "Such arrogance never bodes well. We are given the opportunity to live in this world, and it would be a foolish thought to presume that you can free yourself from the obligation of partaking in new and enriching experiences. That, in essence, is the nature of the Great Circle of Life that all of us go through."

"B-But me being content with what I currently know isn't true at all!" Arbor cried out, slightly outraged by the insinuation. "It's just that unlike you, I don't have the freedom to wander the world! I'm curious and eager to know stuff, but I can't experience naught while stuck here in the valley! That's why I'm trying to find out all I can from grown-ups like you!" he argued, finally seeing an opportunity to broach the topic. "I genuinely am curious about things, and I do want to learn! I just don't have the chance, that's all!"

The adult's eyes darkened, his sunken eyelids exacerbating the severity of his expression. "If so, then I don't get your actions, kid. Why didn't you just directly state your intentions instead of approaching it in a roundabout way?" he spat vitriolically, before flinching back when he realized that he had lost his temper in front of a child and thus relaxed accordingly, his muscles visibly loosening as he slouched.

"Look, sorry about that," he apologized in a gentler tone, tilting his head down, "It's just… there's no need to be insidious around me. You ain't a sharptooth, so don't act like those sneaky unscrupulous fiends when there's no reason to."

"It's not my fault…" Arbor tried to justify, dejectedly looking down towards the ground. "The only reason I act this way is because nobody wants to tell me anything whenever I ask them, not even my mommy! I have to resort to doing stuff like this just to get them to listen to my questions. If only I was older, then it wouldn't be an issue…"

Hearing Arbor's pained lament, the adult gently consoled him. "There, there, little fella. Just let it all out." He then slowly hobbled over, his large and bulky size playing a factor in his sedate pace of movement, at least in relation to the energetic Arbor. When the adult was so close that his underbelly was practically right on top of Arbor, he proceeded to drop a pertinent question that almost made Arbor fall over in shock.

"What if I told you there was a way for you to learn things without explicitly asking for it?"

Arbor's jaw dropped until it was almost touching the ground. "Y-you really mean it!?" he asked when he managed to close his mouth before it caught any stinging buzzers, desperation audible in his voice.

"Of course I am, little fella," came the answer. "The solution to your conundrum is rather simple, too — you can learn passively with your eyes and ears," he said, eyeballing the grassy pastures to his side. "There are many things which I have absorbed just from observing things taking place around me."

His eyes slid back to Arbor. "Body language tells me a lot. Actions speak louder than words." With a soft chortle, he proceeded to give an example — Arbor himself. "You are standing at attention, your eyes widened and focused. Even if you hadn't gasped out loud earlier, I can confirm through visuals alone that I have you fully enraptured."

"And that I am indeed…" Arbor mumbled in awe, astounded by the miraculous trick that he was witnessing in front of his eyes. "Wow, you're really incredible, mister!"

"When the Bright Circle falls, the Night Circle will rise," he quoted in response to a fully alert Arbor before doling out his recommendation. "If being direct doesn't work out because of your age, you can always try a different approach. Maybe instead of demanding for answers at every waking moment, you can attempt to get the answers to your questions in a more organic approach catered to each individual. Instead of putting them on the spot, pay attention to their mood and query them at the right time and place. They will be more willing to divulge the necessary information to you then."

He let out a snort, his large body quaking in laughter. "I mean, if you need further convincing, you're the proof of concept!"

"M-me!?" Arbor was taken aback, blinking repeatedly in stupor at the proclamation.

"Yes, little fella… you. Through careful scrutiny of your words and body language, I managed to extrapolate what you wanted out of our talk, and with that knowledge I've naturally changed the flow of the topic to one that benefits us both," he confessed to a stunned Arbor. "Now, I know you told me you were planning to do that to me earlier, although in a more blatant manner. But once I took over the conversation, did you actually find yourself needing to forcefully shift the scope of the topic to get to the point you wanted?" A wry grin crossed his face. "And moreover, did you even realize that you were being strung along by me to reach a mutually beneficial outcome throughout the entire duration of our talk?"

"N-no… not at all…" The perplexed Arbor found himself tongue-tied by the wanderer's admission.

"You see? When the other party doesn't feel like they're being coerced into something, they would naturally be more willing to comply with your requests."

Arbor looked contemplative at that. "But would that really work…?" he asked, a twinge of natural skepticism still casting shadows of doubts within him in spite of the overwhelming evidence.

"I'm not your mother, kid. I can only provide an advisory role. The onus is on you to do what you think works out best for you. You shouldn't expect the world to revolve around you, because it most certainly does not. Always anticipate the unexpected, because the Great Circle of Life will continue turning on whether you're prepared for it or not." His eyes then darted towards a nearby tree. "And when life gives you rotten tree sweets, crush them and use the pungent smell of the juice as trail markers instead of outright throwing them away. Don't waste a prime opportunity by focusing on what could have been instead of simply turning a bad situation around by making use of what you have to better yourself."

Arbor scrunched up his face, the creases on his frill a clear indicator to any outside observer that he was deep in thought. "So that means if I do what you say, I can get what I want?"

He didn't even try to mask the eagerness in his voice.

The adult smiled fondly at his charge. "The power of observation isn't one to take lightly. Knowing how to read a situation and say the right things at the right time can greatly affect how interactions go. Let me pose a scenario to you — say if you were to run into an orphan in the Mysterious Beyond, what would you say to him or her?"

"Um… I'll… uh…"

Pausing momentarily and getting nothing but a garbled response, the dinosaur swiftly continued when he was sure Arbor couldn't give a coherent answer that would be to his satisfaction. "What you did right there would be game over. And sure enough, most of us would freeze up like you just did, unsure of what to do, and quite unaware that being a silent bystander only ends up hurting the child more. To a hurt orphan, such a reaction screams of crushing apathy. Your words and actions can have lasting consequences when perceived in a certain light, even if it isn't your intent."

"Hmph!" Arbor looked away with a huff. "Like you're so special! I can't see you being immune to this fallacy! Surely you'd be too shocked to react in such a case yourself!"

Arbor was pleased when he saw that he managed to actually catch the other dinosaur off guard with his retort. It actually took him a moment to collect his thoughts and compose an answer. "Perhaps…" he conceded, "…but as I told you, life is unpredictable. Being mentally prepared for anything will greatly assist you in the long run. Learning is a lifelong journey…"

He then straightened himself up, starting to walk away. "I'm afraid that's all the time I have to offer today. You're a good lad, kid. Spunky and inexperienced, but you have the drive and passion to really go far in life. If you ever need assistance, just go and tell someone that Rooter's got your back. I might be a lone farwalker, but I know many dinosaurs out there in the wilderness. Using my name can get you places."

"Rooter…?" Arbor repeated. "Your name's Rooter?"

"Names are overrated in my opinion," the dark green dinosaur heaved a sigh before giving a proper answer. "But yes, I go by Rooter." As he continued strolling away, Rooter suddenly found himself facing the young thicknose, who had apparently sprinted ahead to cut him off.

"I didn't introduce myself either, so my name's Arbor!" he announced to a bemused Rooter, proudly holding his head up high. "Thank you for teaching me everything, Mr. Rooter! You've really opened my eyes! I'll solemnly take your advice to heart!"

Though Rooter stiffened at first, taken aback by the sudden greeting, he was able to regain his composure soon enough and gave the young child a nod of approval. "Well… I'll hold you to that, little fella," he grunted with a wink before taking his leave, leaving behind a gleeful and motivated Arbor.

"I promise you, Rooter!" Arbor yelled at the retreating farwalker as his figure got smaller. "I promise that I'll make you proud by using everything you've taught me here today! If we meet again, I want us to meet as equals!"

And for better or worse, that will be a promise he would keep.

While he didn't manage to get what he had initially approached Rooter for, Arbor ended up gaining so much more from their relatively brief encounter. Even his mom had noticed his perky mood when he returned and questioned him about it.

"You certainly seem happy, Arbor. I presume the farwalker told you everything that you wanted to know?"

"Not exactly… but he told me something that was even better! Muhihihihi! This is great! This is the best day ever, mommy! I feel like a brand new thicknose now, wahey!"

"I worry for you, dear…"

At Rooter's bequest, Arbor had ended up adopting a more taciturn approach when it came to garnering answers. He was now decisively more laid-back compared to the more direct and imprudent method he had used in his early days. Being sycophantic and confronting the adults with blatant intentions of using their conversation to gain information about the world for himself had paid off dividends in the past, but with this new advice Arbor didn't even have to communicate with the grown-ups, instead gleaning everything off them by listening obsequiously.

Truth be told, he vastly preferred it this way. Arbor occasionally felt as though he was treading on dangerous territory when trying to coax information from increasingly unreceptive elders with his assertive words and queries. Knowing that he didn't have to be so brash against his meeker nature was cathartic for him.

Siphoning scraps of information from the farwalkers by listening to them tell him the stories of their travels instead of asking questions was thus his choice of accumulating knowledge from that point on. Not only was it easier to listen to them tell the valley stories of what they'd seen while forging through the Mysterious Beyond on their own accord, Rooter was completely right on the mark. Many times, they unintentionally gave him the answers to questions that Arbor didn't even realize he had.

From that moment on, Arbor was one of the most eager valley residents to greet new farwalkers, knowing that sooner or later being in close proximity to them would pay off. Chances were he would end up being educated about something he didn't know about just by being around them and hearing them make small talk. The enticing allure of learning more constantly kept him on his toes.

This decision paid off in spades. The tales they told him about their travels were so vivid and detailed that he was able to imagine the journey that they underwent in his head as though he had traveled with them all along, all without needing to leave the valley at all.

As time went on, Arbor slowly lost his aggressive demeanor, having only resorted to it for coercing the adults in the first place. His more reserved personality was being brought to the surface more and more once he lost the need to be assertive now that he was extrapolating silently instead of questioning assertively. His propensity to be shy and withdrawn gradually took hold, with the sole exception being when he was talking with his mother…

…and whenever he wanted to insert himself into a conversation so that he could correct his peers when they were clearly incorrect about something. Despite being bashful and socially introverted when compared to the rest of the kids his age, the others quickly learned that Arbor was a reliable source of knowledge who they could easily approach.

He might be a know-it-all, but he was the know-it-all.

"So that's why there's a difference in taste when I munch on pale-colored tree sweets compared to foraging brightly-colored ones!"

"Gee, you're so much better at explaining than my daddy! He beat about the treestar bush and didn't even properly answer my question about where eggs and hatchlings come from!"

"I asked mom about the different swimming styles that you had explained to me in detail yesterday and she told me that you were right! Good going, man! That's the first time I made my parents tongue-tied!"

"Yeah, you may be quiet and hate playing with us, but we can definitely count on you! You know everything, Arbor!"

The young Arbor had quickly fallen into a standardized routine that he quickly found himself getting used to, and it remained so until one fine day…

---

"Alina was a wonderful thicknose. The Great Circle of life has claimed her, and she will be deeply missed by all of us who remain in the Great Valley. She will not be forgotten."

His mother simply did not wake up from her sleep on what would have been—should have been—a perfectly random morning.

But Arbor knew better.

With a heavy heart, the teenager knew that his mom wasn't sleeping in when he felt that her body was cool to the touch and unreceptive to any kind of stimuli. Her pale frill was a dead giveaway.

A tear slid down his cheek when the realization dawned on him.

The mother who had always been by his side from young was gone.

"She has passed on peacefully in her sleep, a mercy compared to those in the Mysterious Beyond who often meet a grislier end…"

When Arbor was young, he had wanted to venture out to the Mysterious Beyond to see it for himself. But now that he was older and the concept of death had hit home with his mother's passing, he realized just how foolish of a decision that would be.

He didn't have to go to the Mysterious Beyond to gain any new insights of his own when he managed to amass all the knowledge which he currently had just by staying put in the valley. The risks involved in undertaking such a journey weren't worth the effort of verifying his sources.

Ironically, talking to farwalkers all the time had broadened his depth of understanding in terms of how things were in the Mysterious Beyond, their stories revealing just how dangerous a life out there was. A young and naïve Arbor would have been far more likely to recklessly leave behind the safe confines of the valley to satisfy his curiosity, but he was naturally more cautious now, especially when he didn't actually need to go out to the Mysterious Beyond now that he learned everything simply by listening to the recounts of numerous wanderers who had done all of the nitty-gritty for him.

Learning through a proxy was more than enough to satisfy him now that he had an extensive wealth of knowledge under his pelt… sorry, his skin. The small amount of personal experiences that he would add to his knowledge bank if he did venture out there would be a superfluous decision. His personal anecdote would be insignificant when he had at least fifty other examples to choose from.

And thus, Arbor quashed that desire to experience those stories for himself. It just wasn't necessary.

The teenage dinosaur took a yearning look at her cooling body, reminiscing about the fond phrase that his mother would often repeat to him as a child.

"You are a wise child, Arbor. My special boy… I truly believe with all my heart that you were hatched to do great things."

That he was. That he was…

Just you see, mom. I know you never quite approved of my incessant knowledge sourcing, but I promise that it'll all pay off! I'll make you proud, just like I'll make Rooter proud!

---

"Call me Mr. Thicknose," he had said, masking his first name behind formalities.

Things had changed greatly since his mother had left him all by himself. Although he lost the parental support she had given him, he gained the freedom to do and act however he wanted without constraints. He had always been someone who inherently was predisposed to learn, and now that he was on the cusp of adulthood, the next logical step for him was to utilize said knowledge of his in a more meaningful way.

Although he was already intrinsically presupposed to living his life in a certain way, extrinsic factors forced a slight change in his behavior now that he was all grown up. Yes… a substantial amount of his current mindset could in fact be traced back to that one conversation he'd had with Rooter. Every single word that transpired between them was etched in his mind from childhood up till present day.

Thicknose now used his species name as a moniker, dissociating himself from the knowledge-hungry kid who he once was. Arbor has long since vanished, a relic of the past. He was a new dinosaur now.

He felt like it was incumbent on him to impact the lives of others by letting his students study on everything he had learnt over the course of his early life, and through the act he would gradually gain a sense of self-indulgent pleasure and satisfaction in educating others over time.

That was the life of a teacher, of a role model… of an educator! He would use his sway and position to bring resonance and meaning to the lives of others, much like how Rooter had brought purpose to his.

Such was the role of an influencer! It was what he was born to do! His mother had foretold and always said that he was destined for greatness. Being assigned the prestigious role of chief educator while simultaneously serving as the prime information source of the valley? That was all the proof he needed to prove his point!

Indeed, Thicknose would proceed to set the precedent of formalizing—and then conducting—standardized learning sessions for the valley's youth to be educated long before Grandpa and Grandma Longneck indirectly followed in his footsteps by reciting stories of their own. He was the cornerstone behind the conception of communal learning in the valley, being the one who had pushed for it the most — its most fervent advocate. By seeking out reform and change in the way that the youth was being taught, Thicknose was taking an ambitious leap of faith into uncharted territory, not just for him, but for the valley as a whole.

He was able to distract the aspiring youth from the weary droll of a routine life by spinning many stories based off of his memories, thereby enlightening his audience by recounting and highlighting the many eccentricities that he had come across from others in the past. Yes, he would open his students' eyes to the world around them, just as Rooter had done for him!

After a long time, he had finally managed to succeed in his goal. Nowadays, all one had to do was simply mention the word 'teacher', and by association the name Thicknose would intuitively be the natural follow-up in the mind of any valley resident. His lessons and knowledge had become a permanent fixture of the valley. Whenever someone wanted a reliable source to back them up or required the assistance of a teacher to enroll their children in lessons during the day, Thicknose was the name and figure who instantly sprang to mind.

His role was indispensable. He had become the face of wisdom to everyone in the valley, so much so that he stood among the elite who made plans for the future of the valley, having been appointed as a key advisor whose sagacious opinions and insights bore weight in critical decisions made during routine valley meetings held at the Rock Circle.

Others tended to value his input, and for good reason. Several of the dinosaurs were often left awestruck by the opulence on display whenever he helmed the front, especially as he had been proven right time after time again. There were two instances in recent times that stood out in Thicknose's mind as situations where a lesser dinosaur would have panicked and seeked out greener pastures, but he alone remained unfettered by the blind panic that spread across the valley residents.

They were the Thundering Falls water shortage, and the swarming leaf-gobbler food crisis — two major incidents that had plagued the valley in rapid succession of each other. Even when most of the valley had collectively agreed to explore and scavenge the Mysterious Beyond in search for sustainable food sources in the latter case, Thicknose had weighed his options and realized that he didn't need to follow them since the dramatically reduced population will allow him to subsist on the few food sources that had remained unscathed in the aftermath.

Yes, he was well aware from all the data that he had ingested that sweet bubbles were renewable through the use of seeds, and by careful rationing and constant replanting Thicknose was able to get by, his meager diet supplemented by the few treestars that had survived the swarm. The plentiful green food soon returned after those scarce few Night Circle cycles, just as he predicted they would.

His calculations were worth the smug look that he had shot Topps when the threehorn stared at him in stupor when the rest of them had come back to the valley, complete disbelief written all over his frill that Thicknose somehow managed to survive when he had previously declared the teacher mad for staying in what he considered a dead valley. Thicknose reviled in the subsequent praise, shrewdly deciding that he wasn't going to tell them that the only reason he had managed to subsist on scraps was because they'd left him alone, resulting in no one being in the barren valley to compete with him for resources.

It was truly serendipitous in the way that Topps being his usual paranoid self and taking the entire population valley with him had unknowingly given Thicknose the very means to enable the success of his survival plan.

Thicknose took pride in always managing to maintain a cool mind, which helped to ensure that he wasn't susceptible to the whims of others. Staying true to what he had told himself since his mother had left for the Great Beyond, he saw no need to risk life and limb to head out to the Mysterious Beyond. In fact, he had never left the Great Valley throughout his entire tenure.

If threats of famine didn't faze him once he had analyzed the situation and realized it was to his benefit to stay, nothing would.

Through the years, he had become a self-purported beacon of knowledge, something which he repeatedly emphasized to his audience until it had reached the extent where accounts of his wisdom wound up being greatly exaggerated through word-of-mouth. It helped that many of the young children who he had sporadically assisted when he was young were now adults too, those of them who stayed in the valley quite willing to corroborate with Thicknose to give a satisfied testimonial and back up his wisdom to anyone who asked.

Over time, that was how the "been everywhere, knows everything" moniker stuck with him. While it was blatantly untrue, Thicknose never bothered to correct the saying, secretly finding the quote rather catchy.

It was an ostensibly shaky claim, however, and rightfully so.

Because unbeknownst to many, he hadn't been everywhere, and didn't know everything… and this was something that really aggravated him the older an aging Thicknose became.

"Is this really true, Mr. Thicknose? I must be honest, I kinda have trouble believing this…"

"Are you trying to belittle me, little one?" he had questioned with a grunt, staring down the swimmer who had spoken. Devin, Detras… was it? No wait, Delta was his name, he recalled. "Need I remind you that I've been around and have seen things before you even hatched out from your egg," Thicknose told him bluntly, holding his head high and using his large frill to intimidate the child. "Or are you perhaps implying that what I am currently imparting to you is not factually accurate?"

"N-no!" he gasped, "Of course not, Mr. Thicknose! I'm so sorry for acting out of line… I didn't mean it!"

The downcast look on the youngling after his teacher had rebutted him in such a crude way caused Thicknose's own mood to spiral, a dour expression on his face which he disguised as that of irritation.

Alas, he had no choice — his own needs superseded those of the young child.

There was a small part of Thicknose's mind that tried to persuade him that he was being irrationally paranoid, that he'd misconstrued things, that there was no way that a young child like that swimmer could have malicious intent to seek and undermine his achievements. However, it was also times like this—where Thicknose began to second-guess himself—that he would suddenly remember the unscrupulous motives behind his own actions towards the grown-ups when he himself had been a child, and all those fears about paranoia were pushed aside along with any pangs of regret.

One could never be too careful.

Those disconcerting and nagging thoughts adamantly persisted despite his best attempts to suppress them. Being staunchly dogmatic helped shoot down any potential criticism from his detractors before they unearthed his vulnerabilities.

The simple fact remained that all of his teachings were mere recountings of others who actually experienced them — this was Thicknose's main concern. He hadn't lived through or seen many of the things that had been mentioned to him, and yet he was forced to regurgitate out every scrap of second-hand knowledge that he'd amassed without actually processing any of it for himself.

As the population of the valley grew and he had to take more and more students under his frill, he slowly began weaving in tasty treestar trinkets of exaggerations seamlessly into the narrative to spruce up his tales and teachings. At first, it started out with small exaggerations here, minute overstatements there.

But as time went on, Thicknose was forced to infer more and more as the young children began prodding him for details which he couldn't possibly know as a middleman. The unwillingness to reveal that he was narrating another dinosaur's experience resulted in him having to concoct and fabricate feasible-sounding explanations and extrapolations to fill in the holes in the stories, and thus embellishing them to a far larger degree than ever before.

Did it bother him that he had to resort to such means? At times, yes. However, he had a ubiquitous presence around the valley. His opinion and insights were respected by all, and he had worked hard to uphold that reputation.

Was he being a bit pretentious? Well… yes, but keeping up that façade of his was an irrevocable commitment. Given how deeply he was ingrained on the minds of everyone in that valley, he couldn't back out now even if he wanted to, and could only double down harder than before to reaffirm that pristine image in everyone's mind.

The ends would justify the means… that was the key message he had managed to gather from his talk with Rooter, the bulk of that fateful conversation translated and summarized into a memorable parable.

Sure, having to come up with those little white lies when he was unsure about a subject and having to be cold to certain students was an uncomfortable prospect, but it was necessary to keep up the subterfuge of being an infallible teacher for the greater good.

Little did Thicknose know that his moral conscience would soon end up being put to the ultimate test…

---

"Long, long ago, further back than anyone can remember…" Thicknose intonated, admittedly fatigued that he had to recite this very lesson for the fourth time today. At least this batch of children would be his last class for the day, and that uplifting thought spurred him to push on and get it over with. "…great creatures first crawled up from the murky ooze, onto the dry land, and thus began the age of the dino—"

"Excuse me, Mr. Thicknose?" a peppy voice interjected.

Thicknose narrowed his eyes, focusing on the longneck who had spoken up from his position on an elevated stone perch. Without fail, there was always some rambunctious kid or a know-it-all heckler who would inevitably try and disrupt his class in every single one of his lessons.

It appeared that today was no exception.

Already frustrated by the three classes that he'd conducted earlier, Thicknose gruffed at the speaker. "I beg your pardon?" he deadpanned.

Yes… Littlefoot was his name. He was the grandson of the two eldest longnecks in the valley, and the lad certainly had the reputation to boot. Besides, there was only one longneck Thicknose knew who always made sure to take that seat in his classes, so he did take note of it. It was an unusual trait, as perching on a rock was more exhibitive of flyer behavior since grown-up longnecks couldn't very well sit on a small stone without crushing it. If he were to guess, the kid had most likely opted for that position so he could be more attentive, as the surface of the mossy stone was smoother and cooler than that of the grassy terrain surrounding the area.

But if Littlefoot was disappointed or frightened by his teacher's vexation, the kid sure didn't show it. "Well… if it's too far back for anyone to remember, then how do you know it even happened?" he asked.

Thicknose found himself stumbling on his words as he tried to think of a plausible response to the question, "I, uh, well, um… well, uh, we know it happened," he finally blustered, before inhaling a deep breath and improvising when he realized that his starting words actually could form the basis of a respectable counter. "Well, if it hadn't, we wouldn't be here!" he retorted matter-of-factly.

"Duh." Topps' daughter was quick to shoot her friend a cheeky smirk. Maybe it was a threehorn thing, but Cera seemed to relish in her friend's suffering as he 'got owned' — a hip term that the young'uns had a tendency to say.

This time however, Littlefoot did react, a momentary frown and glare appearing on his visage at being the recipient of Cera's searing taunt. Upon seeing her placative smile, he dropped all hostilities and jumped off his usual rocky perch. "Yeah, but how do you know the first ones came from the murky ooze?"

C-Crap! Does he know that I made that part up?

"Me flyer!" Skylar's youngest kid, Petrie the flyer, added on as he flapped his wings to get airborne, "Family maybe come down from high hills!"

Not you too! Thicknose looked at the flyer disdainfully. Quit trying to tear down my argument, will you!?

"And Ducky's family are swimmers," Littlefoot mentioned as Petrie landed on his head. "Maybe they swam right up from the Big Water."

Petrie tilted his head to the side. "Wonder where Spike's family come from?"

"Wherever it was, it must've been a long walk, 'cause he's awful tired."

Thicknose shifted his attention over to the swimmer and spiketail at Cera's remark, and right on cue the duo fell on their sides, to collective laughter from the rest of the students.

"Wh-whaa…" Ducky murmured, her voice slurred.

He stared at the swimmer as she clutched her head in pain. Had Ducky… been sleeping through his class? Sheesh, and she wasn't even being discreet about it, too! Her groggy voice was a dead giveaway!

Now, Thicknose wouldn't lie. Though he tried to look past it due to possible extenuating circumstances that could be behind her tiredness, he still felt rather irritated by that lack of respect and thus elected to treat it as a perceived infraction from the swimmer. Heck, even though he was tired himself, he tried to stifle his exhaustion for the sake of delivering an optimal learning experience.

"Young ones, please!" Thicknose had to step in to quell the laughter. He could feel his brow twitching as he observed the scene playing out around him. His meticulously crafted lesson plans always ended up being derailed in one way or another, and being one to rigidly adhere to his routine, this really frustrated him.

His routine wasn't the only thing he was adamant about. Thicknose was a stern enforcer of the rules whenever he was teaching, and flouting them was frowned upon by him. What ticked him off here was that it was a flagrant violation of his jurisdiction, and that disrespect was something he would not tolerate. "Ducky," he directed his gaze at the offending swimmer as she crouched on her haunches, "was your herd up all night gathering treestars?"

Ducky had the decency to look solemn at his accusation. "No…" she mumbled, her blue eyes glimmering with emotion as she was admonished.

"Then, please, try to stay awake."

Her jaw dropped in shock at being reprimanded, though it didn't take her long to glower at a chortling Spike. "That is so not fair," the swimmer muttered, getting to her feet and pointing a finger at him, "You were asleep too!" Ducky accused.

Thicknose looked around to see Cera goading her friend on with approving eyes and Petrie trying to suppress a laugh and couldn't help but be stymied by their behavior. Gah, kids. Always distracted by their pursuit of games and fun, traits which generally didn't carry over to adulthood. He was giving them a head-start over their peers if they listened to him, but only a small fraction of his students actually bothered to pay attention to his teachings.

Did the rest have to be so discourteous to him, though? Ducky was behaving quite irrationally today, considering that she was being unusually prickly with her foster brother. Making up his mind to put a premature end to their argument before it escalated and got distractingly out of hand, Thicknose found himself taking a step forward as Ducky continued berating her brother.

"Why does he pick on—"

"Ducky!" he raised his voice scathingly, cutting her off with a harsh tone that even managed to get the attention of those who weren't even involved in the scuffle between the siblings.

Thicknose held the opinion that he was perfectly justified to be pedantic when he taught. Being able to recite the coveted knowledge that he'd acquired throughout his life was a testament to just how much he was able to remember from the many wanderers passing through the valley. If he had to take drastic measures against a specific few troublemakers just to ensure that his lesson had a conducive environment that would ensure maximum learning potential for those interested to learn, he would do it in an instant.

"Could you please be a little quieter?" Thicknose decided to request from Ducky as he poked his head towards her. "Like Spike," he beamed in approval. The spiketail was probably his ideal student — still, silent, and never a nuisance. A great listener overall.

Ignoring Ducky's cry of indignation, he cleared his throat. "Now, uh, where was I?"

"You were explaining where we came from," Littlefoot prompted.

"Oh, yes, yes. Well…"

Thicknose didn't even make it a single word into his explanation before Littlefoot opened his big mouth and broke his train of thought yet again.

"And I said, 'how do you really know where we came from?' And you said—"

"I remember," Thicknose forcefully cut in, "Perhaps… we should talk about something else," he hinted to Littlefoot in a passive-aggressive manner to drop the topic.

He had a very polarizing opinion of Littlefoot because of moments like this. Though Thicknose was forced to shoot down his question, deep down he felt a sense of connection with the young longneck. In many ways he saw himself in the young child because of Littlefoot's insatiable thirst for knowledge. It was almost like he was glancing at a carbon copy of himself from long ago, except now he was the one who was sitting in the position that Rooter had previously occupied.

Thicknose just hoped that the brief explanation from earlier would keep the longneck's curiosity in check. Every lesson that he conducted was a rigid dichotomy between being cautious and being through, a fragile balance that needed to be maintained between the two so that he wouldn't be exposed.

Keeping the scope as general and broad as possible while taking care not to furnish too many details was something which he painstakingly took great care to consciously do whenever he was lecturing about a topic that he wasn't completely sure of, as staying vague helped circumvent the possibility of accidentally contradicting himself if he went in-depth.

"Through careful scrutiny of your words and body language, I managed to extrapolate what you wanted out of our talk, and with that knowledge I've naturally changed the flow of the topic to one that benefits us both."

"Did you even realize that you were being strung along by me to reach a mutually beneficial outcome throughout the entire duration of our talk?"

All advice pertaining to this topic remained firmly entrenched in his memory. Rooter had run circles around him back in the day, and he would follow in his mentor's example by using the power of observation to try and predict where a topic was heading in advance. By analyzing a whole host of factors, he could take note of anyone who came uncannily close to deciphering the truth before distracting those possible threats. He didn't budge on this until the moment he sensed danger. If someone were to prod, he would use his authority to conjure up some digression to divert attention away from the topic, immediately shutting down the offending question before it could do any lasting damage.

And divert their attention away, he surely did.

What would be a good topic… aha!

"Food gathering."

Now this was a subject he felt more than qualified to teach, and it showed as Thicknose projected an aura of confidence while narrating it. "I have had the opportunity to study the many methods used by different herds to gain sustenance from the green food, which surrounds us here in our fertile Great Valley. Spiketails and threehorns employ the cranio-impactus method—" which was a fancy term he coined for someone bashing down an object with their body, "—ramming trees with their head to make treestars fall. Flyers use their wings to fly to the tip top branches—"

"Oh, oh, oh!" Littlefoot enthusiastically exclaimed. "I know how longnecks do it."

Thicknose disgruntledly turned his head towards his most fervently passionate student. He appreciated the longneck's eagerness, but cutting in and heckling was a no-no for him. "Yes, Littlefoot. So do I," he deadpanned, "But I am not talking about lonngggnecks at the moment," he elongated the species name just to make a point to an increasingly despondent Littlefoot.

"Now, where was I? Threehorns, longnecks, spiketails…" he counted off the species he had already discussed, "…oh, yes. Oh, yes." Clearing his throat and closing his eyes to get his muddled thoughts in order, he then calmly resumed his narration. "But, perhaps the most—"

"No, no, no!"

Oh, come on! "What is it now?!" Thicknose snapped, whirling towards Ducky and Spike.

"Spike ate my special treestars," a downcast Ducky tried to explain, "My mom gave them just to me…"

Her lament was cut short when Spike opened his jaw wide and swallowed what was left of the pile in one fell swoop, belching in reply to a startled Ducky, who definitely did not expect such a move at all.

"All these interruptions… I can't think straight!" Thicknose moped. "Here, you two move away from each other. Ducky, you go here. Spike, over there." He gestured for the two to be split apart with his foot, before nodding his head off towards the distance. "And a perfect example of what I was just relating — notice that some of the spiketails graze, while others are using the cranio-impactus method I spoke of earlier. These spiketails are wanderers. They come to the Great Valley every now and then on their travels, searching for food. Luckily, we have plenty here for all, and peaceful visitors are welcome."

"Pfffffttttt!"

Thicknose wrinkled his nose at the noise, looking down to see Ducky making a face at her brother. The swimmer was definitely testing his patience today. Her feud with Spike was unnecessary and actively disrupting his lesson.

Still, it was unusual for her to be so hostile, especially to Spike of all dinosaurs. He looked at Ducky with disapproval. He would definitely have a word with her mother later. Maybe there was something going on behind-the-scenes that he wasn't aware of plaguing the swimmer girl.

Thicknose prided himself on his observational skills, and he knew the young swimmer rather well, enough to know that the circumstances behind her bond with Spike was certainly quite atypical. If anything, she and Spike were supposed to have the closest bond of all.

Ducky was born to a clutch of seven in the Mysterious Beyond, the eldest one of Shoal's children. When the mother swimmer had first made it to the valley along with many of the current populous during the Great Migration that took place three years ago, she only had three children left — Spring, Oxbow, and Delta. That was the cruelty of the Mysterious Beyond at play, and a key factor as to why Thicknose had never gone there himself.

But then Ducky had appeared out of nowhere, cheating death and the Great Beyond as she rode on the back of a spiketail to greet her parents before immediately demanding that he be adopted as her younger brother.

Really, who were they to say no? Despite the species barrier, the Great Beyond had granted them a rare reprieve, allowing one of the children they'd consigned to an unknown fate a second chance against all the odds.

A swimmer and a spiketail as siblings. Who would have thought? He hadn't believed Shoal himself until he had seen her children playing in the water with his own two eyes, and even then it took him a long time to accept that such an unusual event could actually happen.

"To continue," he finally stated to get the topic back on track, "food gathering." Without much trouble he managed to resume back at the point where he left, namely because he hadn't been interrupted mid-sentence for once and still had a coherent chain of thoughts. "Perhaps the most interesting technique of all is that used by hollowhorns. They bellow so loudly through the horns on their heads that treestars just fall all around them. Of course, some trees will not give up their green food so easily."

He trudged forward, gazing up at a large tree to his front. "Perhaps the most reluctant is this one here, just above me. Its broad, pointed, leafy greens, though succulent to the taste, often prove too frustrating to—"

Honk!

A rancid bellow reverberated right behind his tail, shocking him into a running start that caused Thicknose to plow into the trunk nose-first, a perfect reenactment of the cranio-impactus method he'd been describing.

"What do ya' know?" Littlefoot chuckled sheepishly as they met eyes, treestars scattering to the ground all around them. "It works…"

A fruit then bopped him right on the nose, loosened by the impact.

Okay, today officially sucks.

"That is it," the humiliated teacher snapped at this transgression, shakily getting to his feet. "Class is dismissed for today," Thicknose stated bluntly. "I will see you all again tomorrow when the Bright Circle is at the usual point in the sky, and I expect to see better behavior from my students by then," he concluded with a firm voice that conveyed an appropriate sense of finality.

As the visibly elated students took their leave, Thicknose focused his attention on two in particular.

Ducky had shot Thicknose a rare stink eye as she slunk away from his class. Once again, she was definitely acting out of the norm.

And as for Littlefoot… Thicknose could still spy a glimmer of hope glinting off his eyes as the longneck walked away.

Yes, he definitely had to be cautious about this one. If Littlefoot was anything like the way he had been as a child… then he would have to nip this in the bud before things got out of hand.

It was certainly unfortunate, but that curiosity would have to be quashed while Thicknose still had the opportunity.

---

"He seems quite bright, but regrettably I find that he has a very negative attitude. He doesn't seem to realize that I am the oldest and wisest in the Great Valley. He needs to learn some respect!"

Thicknose had hoped that the feedback he had given to Littlefoot's grandfather the previous day would have some effect.

Evidently, it did not. And thus, here they were.

"What's that? Hahaha!" Thicknose laughed, "Frozen sky stars, falling on your head?!"

"Uh-huh!" Liittlefoot affirmed, clapping his two front feet against the rock he was on, "And when you touch them, they turn to water!"

While Thicknose continued to chuckle on the outside, things were a different story on the inside. Littlefoot had given him a one-to-one description of the frigid climate that many farwalkers had complained to him about. Just how the longneck had come across that knowledge, Thicknose had no clue, but he could attest that the details Littlefoot had given were perfectly valid.

Still, the fact remained that the child did somehow manage to learn about the unusual phenomenon. Thicknose decided to chalk it up to a repressed memory. Littlefoot was one of those kids who had used to live in the Mysterious Beyond. Perhaps he had simply recalled an old experience from the past.

One thing was clear to Thicknose, though. Littlefoot was trying to show him up by rubbing this piece of knowledge in his face.

…the tenacity of this guy!

Why did Littlefoot have to be so agnostic? The kid was always questioning and belittling everything he said. It just made everything so much harder for him…

Thicknose let out a breath, making sure to maintain a straight face in spite of his tumultuous thoughts. It came with years of experience — he made sure to always be reticent when it came to such matters.

Yes, his insecurity over his teachings would never see the light of day.

"Now Littlefoot, really," he began, deciding to let the longneck down gently. He wouldn't be fooled by Littlefoot's tricks to force a reaction out of him. "Such a thing is not unheard of, but never in the Great Valley… only in distant places that farwalkers come here to get away from."

What could he say? That was technically the truth, after all. And once again, the longneck had a dismal expression on his visage at receiving an answer that wasn't to his liking.

"But I saw it!" Littlefoot protested, "I…"

The icy glare Thicknose shot him was enough to get Littlefoot to quieten down. His hard countenance made it impossible to rebuke him.

"…'kay. Sorry," the defeated longneck conceded, a miserable expression plastered on his face as he sat down, hunching his neck forward and flumping his belly back onto the rock.

"Very well," Thicknose acknowledged his apology, "Now, to return to our previous discussion…"

As he resumed narrating today's tale, Thicknose took special care to not just blindly shut off his brain while reciting as he normally would. Instead, he paid close attention to those attentively listening.

"You believe me… don't you?"

Littlefoot's forlorn inquiry towards the flyer seated to his left caught Thicknose's ears. It would seem that despite his repeated attempts to discourage the child, Littlefoot remained undeterred by his teacher's attempt to shut him down.

This was definitely a worrying variable. Every lesson with Littlefoot was a constant battle of attrition between him and the young child's inquisitive mind, and Thicknose knew just how easy it was to wear down and erode another dinosaur's resilience and mental fortitude by constantly grating on them, doubly so since he had been in the longneck's footsteps before when it came to the act of annoying his elders till they spilled, only now for the roles to be reversed once he was all grown up.

Gah, this had to be some sort of payback for all the times he'd pestered others as Arbor.

"Oh, sure! But then, me believe anything."

At the sound of the boyish voice, Thicknose refocused his attention on Petrie, who had chirped in agreement to Littlefoot's question before supplying an addendum that changed the entire meaning behind his belated reply.

Thicknose found himself covertly grinning at Petrie's confession. In his opinion, students like these were the best, as they would mindlessly absorb everything he said without question. After having to deal with countless hecklers, this category of children was by far the easiest and least troublesome to teach.

Of course, the true irony was that Thicknose would have loved to have an active student like Littlefoot over a passive one like Petrie… if he had been qualified to answer all of the questions that were directed at him. But alas, his overt focus on his pride and ego ended up being his greatest drawback — it permeated his thoughts and behavior every waking second.

It had technically been nothing more than a little white lie at first — technically it was considered a lie by omission since nobody had ever asked if he had lived through his own tales first-hand, and thus he'd never bothered to tell them otherwise. But as the tales of his vast wisdom and knowledge began to proliferate through word-of-mouth, before Thicknose even knew it his reputation as a teacher and wise dinosaur preceded him. It was then, and only then, when he realized that he had unwittingly gone past the point where he could come clean without losing face… that threshold had been passed a long time ago.

Because Thicknose had always spoke with conviction, no one had ever scrutinized his stories, much less question the supposition that he had lived through them. It was, in a way, why he shot Littlefoot down so callously… he was Littlefoot, once upon a time when a young Arbor had asked just as many questions. But now, he couldn't afford to have the young inquisitive mind prod holes into his rock-solid image.

Uncertainty and inconsistencies slowly add up, becoming hushed whispers and rumors. It was why he was always careful to never contradict himself, even when teaching mere children. Because even if it was coming from a kid, should one of the elders lend credence to one of those rumors and investigate further, Thicknose knew that he would crack under scrutiny.

He had reaped the rewards of his reputation and knowledge, allowing him free reign over the residents and the opportunity to teach as many dinosaurs as possible. But it all hinged on one very important variable — that in the eyes of the valley, he was nothing short of perfect.

And he would have to maintain that perfection, no matter what. As deplorable as it sounded, it was a crutch that he leaned on.

Upholding that immaculate image on a constant basis was a miserable and exhausting existence for Thicknose. The paranoia of constantly looking over his shoulder almost got the better of him at times. But it was the path he had chosen to walk, and he'd lost the chance to deviate and break away from it years ago.

"Hey, is it true that you can do whatever you want when you're big?" a student named Hyp had asked of him once.

"Don't be preposterous!" Thicknose had laughed it off then. "Sure, you get that freedom to do what you want as a grown-up, but you're also shackled by the responsibilities of adult life. It's a trade-off that comes with the passage of time."

Those words would come back to haunt him in the present day. As he witnessed the somber Littlefoot letting out a sigh, a melancholic Thicknose found himself wishing that he could trade places with the young child and be free of the enormous burden he carried.

---

He had seen much in his life, but nothing had prepared him for this.

Thicknose was absolutely floored by what he saw, the dinosaur tentatively prodding at the substance that had accumulated by his feet overnight in sheer disbelief.

It can't be… pungent treestars, I think I'm going to faint…

The white ground sparkles that the farwalkers had told him about… it had come to the Great Valley. This was such an aberration that Thicknose had never seen it coming. It went against everything he knew, such a departure from the norm that none of the stories and tales he heard from the many wandering farwalkers had covered such an unlikely and implausible scenario.

Indeed, all of the farwalkers he had talked to claimed that the valley would never be hit by such weather. There was rather compelling evidence for this, too. Why would so many wanderers even attempt to brave the perilous trek over to the valley in the first place if the risks weren't worth the luscious greens that they expected from their destination?

But now, the impossible was staring at him, right in the face.

I-Impossible… this cannot be happening! What I'm seeing right now goes against everything that I had been told… it goes against everything I know!

The longer he stared blankly at the snow by his feet, the more bristled Thicknose got. In a rare lapse of self-control, he proceeded to kick the pile in a fit of frustration, scattering it to a flurry of individual white ground sparkles and leaving a sunken horizontal trough right where his foot had gone straight through.

His breath was misting up in front of his face due to a combination of the chilly weather and his rapid breathing. He closed his eyes with trepidation, before slowly dragging his way over to the Rock Circle, his feet forming deep imprints in the snow as he trudged his way there.

This was outrageous. The conditions of the valley were supposed to be stable, not capricious! The sudden influx of white ground sparkles was an exogenous change, and one which he hadn't been prepared for. Thicknose could explain away the swarming leaf-gobblers as a one-time occurrence, but the fact that he had failed to forecast something which he had definitely talked about prior would certainly raise some eyebrows. After all, his intuition had never failed him or the valley in the past before.

Since he knew nothing and was basically in the dark about the current crisis, he was left straddling the line between experience and throwing out a wild, yet plausible hypothesis. An empty rhetoric was all he could offer, as he was just as knowledgeable as the rest of the valley regarding the sudden cold snap.

Hedging his bets by being prudent with his response tended to pay off for him, but as he saw rounded the corner and saw the gathering crowd preparing to ask him a swath of questions about the sudden swerve in climate, it became clear that this time he would have to do some damage control to appease the unnerved residents.

Threehorn and the longnecks had corralled an emergency valley meeting, unsurprisingly. He could already sense the dissent amongst their ranks as he approached the meeting place. And nowhere was that feeling more palpable than in Topps, the valley's top-ranked threehorn looking close to blowing his top.

"Well, uh," Thicknose started with a stammer. Not good. "Uh, I've never known this to happen in the Great Valley, in all my years."

Dang, that was a terrible opening statement. That was rhetorical! He was so alarmed internally that he'd basically stated the obvious.

Sure enough, the frustrated onlookers began picking it apart. "So why is it happening now?" a duckbill immediately questioned.

A clubtail immediately followed with a complaint of her own. "This stuff is horrible. It's everywhere!"

"I'll say…" Topps lumbered forward, "it's so slippery, I almost couldn't make it up the hill from my nest."

"Yeah, he slid backwards right into my nose!" a crested swimmer muttered as he cradled said appendage. His vocal inflections were nuanced as he whined, most likely from the injury that would result from having one's nose bashed in by a fully grown threehorn's behind.

A haughty laugh from above caught Thicknose's attention.

"Ahahahaha! It was really funny!"

Thicknose glanced up to see an amused Cera, the threehorn standing together with her friends on an outcropping which overlooked the meeting area. It didn't take a genius to see that she had decided to take a crack at her father's unfortunate plight.

It was, however, the next statement which started a chain reaction that soon proved impossible to contain.

"See?" Littlefoot jumped towards Cera, a sense of validation laced in his triumphant voice. "White sparkles from the sky, just like I told you."

How could he have forgotten about that? Littlefoot had indeed maintained it yesterday! So the kid had been telling the truth after all! Thicknose felt a pang of shame for thinking that Littlefoot was out to get him, but that emotion quickly subsided when the implications rapidly set in.

"What did you say, Littlefoot?"

Thicknose could feel his blood turn to ice when he heard Topps. He side-eyed him to see that the threehorn's interest was now piqued.

"Go ahead, Littlefoot," Grandpa Longneck prodded.

"I, uh, I just saw some of the white sparkles fall the other night, and I told…" he trailed off.

Thicknose could feel his face shifting several shades of colors when an anxious Topps charged forward and demanded an answer. "Told who…?" he raised his voice, "Who'd you tell?!"

"Um, my friends…" Littlefoot started to answer before pensively stretching his neck back and hesitating. It was only when Topps shot the longneck a warning look that he apprehensively made eye contact with Thicknose and gave his teacher an apologetic gaze.

Thicknose felt his heart drop, knowing what was coming. Sure enough…

"…and Mr. Thicknose," Littlefoot delivered the coup de grâce, his admission causing the crowd to immediately erupt into hushed whispers.

Topps instantly rounded onto Thicknose, making the teacher immediately wish he could crawl under a rock and hide when he found himself the recipient of multiple scrutinizing gazes. "You knew this stuff was falling?" the threehorn demanded, clearly outraged by the possibility that Thicknose had failed to divulge the information in advance.

"Hee…" Thicknose tried acting aloof, "the boy said something, but it seemed so unlikely…" he attempted to downplay.

It didn't work.

Topps shot him a critical eye before doing what threehorns do best — lambasting everyone outside of their species.

"We're really disappointed in you," he said on behalf of everyone present, "We thought you knew everything." The disappointment from his assertion hung in the air.

The unspoken insinuation was obvious — "if you did know everything, why would you not take Littlefoot's word at face value and warn us all?"

Never did Thicknose think that after all his prudence in hiding his knowledge deficit, his fall would instead be precipitated by the most unexpected of all his comments — caused by something which he was certain he was correct about instead of something that he was unconfident and knew nothing about.

With a defeated sigh, Thicknose turned away. He couldn't bear to look at anyone.

"So did I…" he mumbled as he stumbled away from the valley meeting, his spirit completely crushed.

---

Thicknose was left reeling at this unfortunate turn of events. His worst fear had materialized, and there was nothing he could do about it.

While the rest of the valley was having fun with the white sparkles, he had silently retreated in shame. He couldn't even manage to garner a smidge of sympathy from anyone. That was how pathetic he was after the scandal had happened.

He was left all by his lonesome again, just like when his mother had passed on in his teenage years.

All he could latch on to as support now were merely his thoughts to provide him some semblance of hope and comfort in such trying times. He held on to the fact that despite all his experience it was the unusual extenuating circumstances which had played a factor in him being unable to foresee this outcome, something which would absolve him of his mistake.

The idea that the depth of his knowledge was too shallow due to a lack of experience and had indirectly caused his fall from grace was one that he wasn't willing to face just yet.

He fell into a restless sleep with those uneasy thoughts, only to wake up freezing. The weather had taken a turn for the worst during the night.

Thicknose gazed around, performing a double-take when he noticed that all the trees within his peripheral vision were completely barren.

Of course! How could he have forgotten!? He actually knew about this unfortunate side-effect for the white ground sparkles from the farwalkers, but the amalgamation of emotions he felt from Topps and the valley blaming him for a lack of an advisory warning had overwhelmed him. His prime focus was to save face, and thus the thought of further consequences should the situation escalate never even came to mind. In the heat of the moment, he wasn't given the chance to think. He simply stumbled away from the Rock Circle as all he wanted to do was curl in and avoid social interaction until he was in a better mood.

That contemporary distraction would prove fatal.

Unlike with the swarming leaf-gobblers, Thicknose was cognizant to the fact that he couldn't cheat the system this time. There was absolutely nothing that anyone could possibly grow in this frigid condition. With the frozen ground sparkles turning conditions undesirable, all the plants would die, and the valley would once again be plunged into a food crisis.

Or in this case, it already was in the middle of a food crisis. He didn't have to have years of experience or all his stories to know that the resulting fallout would be devastating.

Whoosh!

A glimpse of green juxtaposed against white was enough to attract Thicknose's attention.

The dinosaur tracked a lone falling treestar with his eyes as it was blown about in the wind, before eventually fluttering to the ground. Right as he was about to bite onto the meager source of food, a harsh bark caused him to double back.

"Back off, Thicknose!"

Thicknose recognized that voice anywhere. He apprehensively raised his head, coming face-to-face with an unimpressed Topps. Somehow, he managed to look the threehorn pitifully in the eye and try and justify things. "But I'm…" he paused for a moment, contemplating whether it was worth completing the sentence, "…I'm so hungry."

"So what?! Everyone's hungry!" Topps instantly retorted with a snarl, his agitation that Thicknose thought himself to be special clearly showing. He stepped forward, "There's almost no food left, and if you ask me, it's all your fault!" he blamed the aged tutor, smashing his leg and squishing the treestar under his full weight.

"Mine? But, I-I…" Thicknose stuttered, unable to spit out the rest of his sentence when Topps lifted his foot and revealed the torn remains of the crushed treestar. He couldn't help but feel like Topps had imagined his head in that exact spot when he took his anger out.

Seeing that he was in a bind, Grandpa Longneck decided to help him out. "Come, now. You can't blame Mr. Thicknose for the weather."

"Well, maybe not," Topps was forced to admit to the longneck with an irritated grovel, but it didn't take him long to whirl back onto Thicknose. "But if he's so smart, why didn't he know that the white ground sparkles brought such cold with them that it killed all the food?" he pointed out, suitably incensed, "Why didn't he warn us to store away some treestars until warmer weather!?"

"But I couldn't!" Thicknose argued. "I mean, how could I…" he trailed off, clamping his jaw shut.

How could he indeed? He'd almost admitted to his lack of knowledge by accident to the one who was most likely to skewer him for it.

Funnily enough, it was his refusal to admit that he had no clue of the cold snap which had done him in. If he hadn't been so eager to prove himself by gambling on the previous crises, maybe he still could've been able to claim plausible deniability when things went south.

Eerily similar to Topps and his ego, ironically. Perhaps he wasn't all too different from the threehorns in the end…

"This has never happened in the valley before. Why would you expect him to know what it would be like?" Grandpa continued to argue on his behalf, something which made Thicknose feel like garbage, because in a way, Topps was entirely justified in his crusade to smear and put down the valley teacher.

"Well, everybody says he's been everywhere, and he knows everything," Topps rolled his eyes as he mocked the quote. He then shot such a hateful glare over to him that Thicknose was sure that the threehorn would rend him into pieces through the sheer force of his eyes alone if he could achieve such a feat.

"If you ask me, he doesn't know much at all, and I don't think he should be allowed to confuse the young ones with his crackpot ideas!"

Thicknose didn't even have the heart to mask his sorrow after that. The ignominy of Topps slamming him with a fiery accusation that hit close to home was too much for him to handle.

His mind was a total blank for the rest of the conversation. The only thing that he remotely processed was that the farwalker spiketail herd that had taken refuge backpedaled on their decision and decided that they were going to leave effective immediately.

Why? Because they no longer felt welcome.

And neither am I…

While everyone's attention was focused on the spiketails, a forgotten Thicknose lumbered away from a disillusioned valley who no longer respected or cared about him.

---

A depressed Thicknose aimlessly walked around the valley in vain, the gravitas of his dismal situation crushing him like the billowing blizzard.

He couldn't even bring himself to glower at the accumulating ground sparkles — the very thing that had ruined him so completely that he couldn't ever visualize a future where he could recover from this debacle and return to his former post with his head held high.

Years and years of hard work had all been destroyed in an instant. There was no preamble, no warning, and certainly no fanfare.

The hapless dinosaur continued plodding along the snowy path until a dulling pain on his knee caught his attention. He turned his head down, only to see a groaning swimmer who had fallen backwards onto her tail.

"Mr. Thicknose?" the swimmer quipped as she peered at him in dawning recognition. "What are you doing way out here in this cold?"

That was a good question, and one he couldn't even answer. The best he could do was resort to what he'd always done when he was at a loss — change the question by spinning the situation around. "I for one echo your sentiments," he said with a restrained voice, "In fact, I believe that I can throw the exact same question back to you, Ducky."

He was legitimately curious, after all. What was his student doing, wandering around all alone here on the outskirts of the valley? They were encroaching the Great Wall, and children like Ducky were often warned to stay away from this area.

For a moment, Ducky looked like she was mulling over the question, the swimmer strumming her fingers contemplatively together as she saw his disheveled state.

But then, as though a thought had come to her, she abruptly folded her arms. And almost instantly, a change swept across her and her entire expression changed.

She went from being easy to read to barely looking fazed by anything that was happening around her. Thicknose recalled Rooter's teachings and tried to scrutinize her face, but it was to no avail. Her formerly brim blue eyes were icy cold and virtually inscrutable. The swimmer remained emotionless as she sized her teacher up, her soulless expression squarely locking in place as though a mask of hard water had frozen over her visage.

"You are upset too, are you not?" Ducky finally asked, her voice melancholic as her eyes pierced his like an icicle made out of hard water. "I can see it in your eyes, Mr. Thicknose. I can, I can."

He furrowed his brow at her proclamation. He suspected it wasn't just his eyes which gave away his mood. Every facet of his body must be articulating his despair, plain as day for anyone to see. He exhaled a tired sigh, his relatively warmer breath frosting up in the air as it escaped his mouth and immediately condensed into a fine mist due to the surrounding conditions. "You got me, Ducky. I'm afraid that all your parents gave me a rather harsh talking-to after this whole ground sparkle mess."

Ducky had an irate expression as she responded. "Oh, do you mean when Littlefoot was talking to you about the falling white stuff and you chose to dismiss him?" she mentioned sardonically, throwing shade at him without a care in the world.

Thicknose scrunched up his face. He didn't need his analytical skills to predict the swimmer's mood, and his own state of mind fared no better. "Yes. It is about that."

Ducky looked positively affronted by what she heard, the deadpan expression on her face very much making it appear almost as though she'd witnessed some atrocity taking place. "Well, I think that it serves you right for being such a stick-in-the-mud." The consternation and contempt on her face grew more apparent as the swimmer launched herself into a lengthy rant. "In my personal opinion, you deserve to be wrong for once after always acting so high and mighty and scolding me during your lesson all the time! You do, you do!"

"Bu-bu-but—" he found himself babbling incoherently, futilely trying to defend himself as he was taken down a peg… well, a notch that was even further down from where his tattered reputation currently lay.

Now that there was no longer any need to keep up the charade, Ducky criticizing his style of teaching allowed Thicknose to view his actions from an impartial point of view. The former teacher realized that a good chunk of his actions for a greater part of his adult life had been fueled and motivated by fear of being discovered as a fraud, and now that those fears were realized, the guilt began to set in.

Only upon reflection of why he acted in such a way did it dawn on Thicknose that he had always been intrinsically motivated. In the grand scheme of things, it was never about how much those around him knew.

It was about how much more he knew in relation to them. Or more specifically, how much more they thought he knew.

Only when Thicknose ended up losing everything did that become painfully clear.

He could sense the animosity radiating off Ducky as her voice became increasingly strident. "Oh, but I honestly do not mind the scolding. It is nothing at all compared to the next thing I am about to say." The swimmer paused for a brief moment, sucking in a breath before yelling at his face.

"The truth is that I think that you are a terrible teacher, Mr. Thicknose!"

He staggered back at her words, looking at the swimmer only to tremble under the weight of her gaze. "Wh-what?" he eventually stammered, "Du-Ducky… is that really how you feel about me?"

The air around them felt brittle as Ducky pondered the question. "Yep, yep, yep," she quickly confirmed her earlier words, "That is what I think about you." The swimmer soon proved that she had no chill whatsoever when she launched into an emotion-filled tirade, one that cut deeply into Thicknose. "Cera's dad was absolutely right. You are a very bad teacher! You are, yes you are! You say that you have been everywhere and you have seen everything but yet you let this happen."

Thicknose couldn't meet her gaze. There it was again… the damn myth that'd shadowed him from the start of his tenure as valley teacher. The rumor that he had 'been everywhere, knows everything.'

Curse it all, it was anything but!

Ducky's posture then stiffened up, the swimmer clearly getting more and more angry the longer she talked. An unhealthy glut of emotions had taken control of the dreary swimmer, and it didn't take long before she let her frustration loose on him. "If you really knew everything, then why would you be so horrible and let the cold ruin all the treestars? Why would you, Mr. Thicknose!?"

It would seem like his penance for all the lies he had told was coming at him full force. There were a host of different excuses that Thicknose wanted to use to defend himself from Ducky's accusations, but the words he wanted to say were frozen on the tip of his tongue when he opened his mouth to speak, very much like the frigid slush under his feet.

For a brief moment, Thicknose blinked his eyes and the swimmer to his front was replaced by a growling threehorn, a long-repressed memory springing to the forefront of his mind.

"…what did you say, you petulant punk!? You dare insult my horn so nonchalantly?! Say that again to my face, brat! Damn kid, I'll let you know just how 'pointy' this thing really is!"

"A-Ack! Sc-scary grown-up… mommy, h-help! Help me!"

It was actually downright terrifying that his current talk reminded him of how powerless he once was, as once again Thicknose found himself trapped on the losing end of a conversation. Barring the ridiculous reality of a small hadrosaur like Ducky scaring Thicknose as much as a fully-grown threehorn baring his horns at him, it was a stark reminder that his mother wasn't here to save him from a confrontation he had no control over when he once again found himself in a situation where he had bitten off more than he could chew.

Nevertheless, Thicknose still tried to take control, attempting to abate and pacify the rapidly deteriorating situation. "B-b-but Ducky… I never wanted this to happen! I never wanted any of this to happen!" he tried to tell the cynical swimmer in a pained voice, shaking his head ruefully to express his sorrow. "How was I supposed to know that Littlefoot would be right about the white sparkles? It was just one minor mistake… one minor mistake…"

His perceived denial caused a stark change in Ducky's appearance. In the span of time it took for him to blink, Ducky's eyes filled with rage. He was honestly taken aback by just how infuriated the normally demure swimmer was after she had heard his evasive comment.

"Well, if you ask me, I do not think that it was an honest mistake. Nope, nope, nope," she rebuked, her voice slowing to a droll as she spat her triple disaffirmation. She glared at him with her arms on her hips, before making a claim which caused Thicknose to audibly gasp.

"It was because you did not know anything about the white ground sparkles, did you?"

The accuracy of her condemnation caught Thicknose unawares, causing him to flinch and look down at the ground sparkles in question. Unfortunately for him, his body language and reaction was confirmation enough to Ducky that she had hit her mark.

"Hmph! So you truly did not know about this at all." Ducky seemed more disappointed than angry as she said those words, almost as if she'd expected it. "But that is the real reason that the spiketails left the valley. You not knowing about the white ground sparkles was what caused all of this to happen in the first place!" she stated tartly.

Thicknose shrank back into himself as she hit him where it hurt. "But… I knew about… ah, who am I kidding…" he trailed off, quickly realizing that pretending he knew would be futile. First of all, Ducky would not be very forthcoming to such a preposition.

And second of all, she didn't look like she would be tricked by such a blatant lie.

He was nothing but a talentless hack. If a kid like Ducky could see right through his flimsy smokescreen, then who could he possibly fool? Not Mr. Threehorn, not Grandpa and Grandma Longneck…

…not even himself.

"I… didn't know…" Thicknose finally admitted out loud, the words surprisingly liberating.

All this time, the reason he had refused to admit that there were things he lacked knowledge about was surprisingly trivial. While superficially it was because he couldn't afford to have a blemish on a perfectly spotless record…

…deep down, such an admission would confirm what he'd always known — that he was nothing more than a talentless hack, a complete fraud who had gained his reputation not through his own merits, but by a stroke of fortuitous luck that had bolstered his name and perpetuated the lie of having seen and done everything to the point where he was regarded as a living legend.

A lie which had deadly consequences.

Of course the valley wouldn't know that every story that he'd sprouted from his mouth was told from farwalkers. Really, how were they to know? He'd learnt so much from the farwalkers that he had mastered the art of hiding that fact by twisting the numerous stories and sometimes even combining them together to make them sound legitimate to even the most incredulous and skeptical of threehorns.

In fact, he had succeeded at this endeavor for so long that sometimes Thicknose actually bought into his very own embellished take of things, the storyteller sucked so deeply into his carefully crafted tale to the extent that his own imagination let him forget that he hadn't actually lived them out in reality. If Thicknose could even manage to trick himself into believing all his stories and the vast array of knowledge he'd acquired through living them out were legitimate even though he knew otherwise, then it was no wonder his unsuspecting audience would never even consider the possibility of them being second-hand recounts from a timorous fraud.

But no masquerade could last forever, and now the stark truth was laid bare as he was called out as the sham he was. The fact that it had come in the form of a child didn't make it any less painful, in fact it arguably made it worse.

In an ironic way, Ducky figuring out the truth had absolved him of explaining. He doubted that his current tongue-tied state could even stutter out anything coherent to the swimmer anyway.

Now that Ducky had callously called him out for his lack of a moral conscience with regards to his title ever since he had started lying more and more to cover his tracks, the surmounting guilt behind everything he'd done for a better portion of his life came crashing down on him like a bolt of sky fire. He had come into conflict with his psychological conscience for a long time, but this was the first time where he was truly haunted by the extent of his actions to suppress the truth.

Where had he gone so wrong? Hadn't he once been Arbor, seeker of knowledge and truths?

How had the pursuit of a steady reputation to spread his knowledge corrupted him this far, where the ramifications of his lies had much a greater impact than he could have possibly imagined? How did he lose sight of the greater picture? Hadn't he had humble beginnings? Didn't his mother always assure him that he was destined for greatness?

"You are a wise child, Arbor. My special boy… I truly believe with all my heart that you were hatched to do great things."

Well, not only did it turn out that he wasn't quite as wise as he had thought, all he had managed to do was ruin everything for everyone. So his mother had turned out to be wrong on both counts, unless her definition of 'great things' meant making a mistake of great magnitude.

It was the sound of the swimmer's footstep as she moved forward that drew Thicknose back to reality from his distressing thoughts. Ducky had remained strangely silent up until now, but her livid face was a hint that it was all about to change.

She then went ballistic. Absolutely ballistic.

"Well, if you had known about it then maybe we could have stored some green food," Ducky tightly clenched her fist as she squinted her eyes shut, her grief-wrought face on the verge of breaking into tears as she forced the next words from her beak, "and then the spiketails would not have to leave the valley and take-ed Spike with them."

It was that outburst which finally clued Thicknose in as to what this was all about.

Spike.

It was about Spike!

Spike left with the spiketail herd? Thicknose couldn't believe what he'd heard. But why!? Ducky and Spike are as close as—

He never had the chance to finish his thought as Ducky proceeded to scream right at his face. "It is all your fault, Mr. Thicknose! It is, it is!" she yelled until her voice became hoarse, tears trickling down her face as her howl reverberated across the plains.

Thicknose could see the outrage in her eyes when the swimmer lost her cool, hurling the harsh truth regarding what she thought about how he had handled the situation without the slightest hint of mercy or sympathy.

It was common knowledge that Ducky was one of the—if not the—nicest swimmer in the entire valley, so for her to act so wildly out of character highlighted just how wronged and hurt she felt. The implication was clear — Ducky found Thicknose complicit in Spike's choice to leave her and the valley, a cardinal sin in her eyes.

And now, the vengeful swimmer was demanding reparation.

Hot tears obscured his vision as he realized why Ducky was so furious at him.

To cope with the fuming Ducky and her barrage of demeaning words as she launched further blame towards her teacher over his mishandling of the situation, it was detrimental for Thicknose and his deteriorating emotional state that he tried to rationalize how external events outside of his control caused things to cascade into such a mess so that he could shift part of the blame away from himself.

But the more Thicknose thought about it, the more he came to the chilling conclusion that being wrong about the white ground sparkles was simply a catalyst behind the loss of the valley's trust, and that it had in fact been precipitated long before he chose to dismiss the case when Littlefoot suggested it.

Everything all boiled down to the fact that his words were anecdotal. His lack of relevant, up-to-date knowledge was the root cause behind all of his unscrupulous actions. When push came to shove, his reluctance to adapt to changing times and choosing to hide behind his imperfections caused him to stumble. His famous title was nothing more than a misnomer, and his misguided efforts to hide that fact by posing as someone who he was not for eons only ended up creating more problems.

In the end, lies only begets more lies. It was a vicious cycle that he had trapped himself in, and the nature of winging it that he had adopted with regards to things he didn't know about meant that disaster was eventually inevitable.

And in this case…

He rapidly blinked away the misty tears forming in his eyes to get a close look at Ducky. The mask of rage had dissipated, and all that remained was a broken swimmer who was reeling from her loss, one who yearned for her brother.

The unspoken thoughts written on her distraught face could easily be gleaned. Give Spike back to me! It is all your fault that he left-ed! All your fault… yours, yours, yours!

Yep… there was no defending this. Thicknose had torn her entire family dynamic apart, and now the tear-stricken child was left in denial over the loss of her spiketail brother.

All of this was on him.

He tore his gaze away from her, the weight of his actions finally catching up with him. With Ducky berating him and Thicknose finally understanding why she was saying all those hurtful things in what would normally be considered an out-of-character moment knowing the swimmer's gentle character, it became impossible for him to ignore the consequences.

Thicknose finally conjured a reply, cobbling together a mess of sincere words that he hoped was able to convey his feelings. "I… I see… I'm so sorry you feel… this way, Ducky." 'Sorry that I caused you to feel this way', was what he had really wanted to say, but even now he couldn't muster up the courage to take responsibility.

But to Thicknose's dismay, Ducky didn't seem to buy his apology. The child let out a sniff, her reddened eyes looking at him with suspicious ire.

"I… know that I've been a t… ter… terrible teacher to all of you young'uns." It became increasingly difficult to force the words from his mouth as he tried to make amends with a swimmer who refused to be appeased. "I guess I really know nothing after all."

More tears began to cloud Thicknose's vision, threatening to fall as he found himself on the verge of a complete breakdown.

Finally, he could take it no more.

"Please, Ducky… tell the valley that I'm sorry. I can't face them myself…"

And with that, he charged forward and ran.

"Um, Mr. Thicknose?" he heard Ducky say, the swimmer appearing as a green blur as he shot past her. "Where are you going?" a tinge of confusion had crept into her voice at his sudden departure, before turning into horror with her next exclamation. "Wait… come back!"

Thicknose ignored the swimmer, refusing to stop and accede to her request. He simply couldn't. All he could do as he sprinted away from the reminder of all his problems was howl out a final apology to the aggrieved Ducky, his legs having taken on a life of their own.

"I'm sorry…"

He plowed through the snow, his tears now freely falling. He ran and ran and ran until he couldn't run anymore, legs giving way under him as he collapsed on a pile of white ground sparkles which cushioned his fall.

A dazed Thicknose looked around him, seeing nothing but a deathly white that coated the ground.

He laughed derisively. He had more than deserved this verbal lashing.

Thicknose shivered as he lay on the cold substance, the harsh drop in the temperature affecting him to the extent that his teeth were chattering. He could feel the piercing cold penetrating his thick hide. As he lay there and wondered how his life had crumbled in the span of two days, he thought back to his conversation with Rooter from long ago.

What would his role model think of him now?

He hadn't seen Rooter since the day they had talked. He knew that Rooter prided himself on being a wanderer, but Thicknose still held out hope that one day the wise and aged dinosaur would return to the valley and that he would be able to show Rooter what he had achieved.

But as his reputation and life lay in shambles, Thicknose was forced to reflect if Rooter would have genuinely been proud of his charge.

Of course he would, his mind argued. Even if it all went south at the end, I still followed everything he'd said!

Are you sure? The cynical part of his mind pulled no punches. Did you really?

That's right, his pride retorted. I did as he asked! That's how I became who I am today!

Well, after you ran away from Ducky and the valley, it would appear that you're nothing but a colossal failure! What would Rooter really think of you, huh!?

As the pessimistic part of his mind began to dominate his thoughts, Thicknose sought refuge in facts. Emotions would not overwhelm him!

He hankered himself back to the conversation, trying to recall what Rooter had said.

"Body language tells me a lot. Actions speak louder than words."

That it did! He'd studiously studied everyone's body language, as Rooter had recommended.

"The power of observation isn't one to take lightly. Knowing how to read a situation and say the right things at the right time can greatly affect how interactions go."

Exactly right! He'd always been a good observer…

Thicknose found his thought process screeching to a grinding halt, a caveat to Rooter's exact words instantly appearing with the roaring impact of an earthshake.

It was then that he reached an epiphany. He'd always been good at that… as a kid. But as an adult? He'd royally botched up that part of his mentor's advice.

He had inherently abused it for his own benefit, disregarding the emotions of the other parties as long as he could manipulate interactions and conversations to his liking.

With a dawning realization of horror, Thicknose realized that he had fatally misconstrued Rooter's advice, his mind hyper-fixated on the learning points that he had a tendency to adopt, and thus only taking those specific points away from his conversation with him.

In other words, confirmation bias.

The young Arbor had zeroed in on the key part of the advice that was exclusively beneficial to him, and everything else he had ignored in favor of an offhand remark that Rooter had mentioned.

But as he thought about it more and more, he realized that Rooter hadn't abetted him to be a pathological and compulsive liar. In fact, he had requested the opposite.

"Your words and actions can have lasting consequences when perceived in a certain light, even if it isn't your intent."

It was Thicknose who had misinterpreted his mentor's advice and did all of that on his own accord just to bolster his dignity. While he had been subject to a demonstration by Rooter, he was just doing it to prove a point, and Rooter never meant any malicious intent.

But how many times had he used his age, experience, or other psychological means to intimidate and shut down a conversation? Every time he had crushed their questions, it was always unequivocally for his own personal selfish need. Until this point he always suppressed his conscience, so he had never thought about how much his disparaging words affected those he belittled.

"In my personal opinion, you deserve to be wrong for once after always acting so high and mighty and scolding me during your lesson all the time! You do, you do!"

"The truth is that I think that you are a terrible teacher, Mr. Thicknose!"

Until one of those he ostracized bit back and reality slapped him on his thick nose.

He had always rationalized that maintaining his image and career so that he could continue to teach superseded all other priorities. After all, if the truth came out and he couldn't teach, how were they going to learn? The valley children needed a good tutor to educate them about the world!

But as it turned out, the brimstone path that led to the Smoking Mountains was often paved with good intentions.

Not only did it strike him now just how self-centered that view was, the very last lesson he had conducted highlighted that his obsessive behavior had led to undesirable traits being inculcated in his students.

Teaching what he knew was a therapeutic relief, a distraction from that nagging feeling of adequacy and doubt. Apathy was simply his defense mechanism. He had mentally conditioned himself to ignore all criticism unless it bothered him, in which case Thicknose would fight back scathingly against the instigator.

Even if it happened to be a kid.

Instead of grooming the valley children to be curious and eager to learn like he once had been, his repeated standoffish tendencies led to the opposite effect. After repeatedly being berated, many of them adopted a reserved mindset to avoid upsetting their teacher.

Or as Petrie had so eloquently put it to Littlefoot…

"Oh, sure! But then, me believe anything."

What was he doing!? He had deliberately limited the potential of these kids just for the sake of his pride and image!

Instead of encouraging more behavior like Littlefoot, he curbed their natural desire to learn for the sake of them absorbing a narrative that he felt comfortable teaching. He would rather take an entire herd of passive dinosaurs like Petrie over introspective knowledge-seekers such as Littlefoot, all because they wouldn't bruise his ego by probing his words.

That should never have happened. As someone who is in a position of power, he should have been more prudent over his words and the effect that a poorly worded remark would have on others.

But alas, that wasn't the case. It was only when Ducky's own crushing accusations ended up piercing through his heart did Thicknose realize just how much words could hurt.

When did this selfishness all start? When had he cared so much about what others thought of him? When had his life become nothing more than maintaining a fragile web of lies?

If his past self could see him now, he would be shaking his head in mortal terror. He had become the very thing that a young Arbor had constantly complained about.

What a hypocritical situation. He had morphed into one of those grouchy adults who actively hid stuff from kids.

Thicknose couldn't take it anymore. He used up the last remnants of his energy to crawl forward so that he could catch a glimpse of a reflection of himself in a lake of frozen hard water that happened to be in front of him.

The vacant look in his tear-stained eyes told him all he needed to know.

"You shouldn't expect the world to revolve around you, because it most certainly does not. Always anticipate the unexpected, because the Great Circle of Life will continue turning on whether you're prepared for it or not."

And as another one of Rooter's statements came to mind, it soon became clear that Rooter would never have approved of what Thicknose had become today.

In a way, he was a victim of his own hubris. For a long time now, he had habituated himself to that routine, that age-old song and dance.

No one had dared to challenge him. With his vast wealth of information, he held a monopoly over the information flow of the valley.

That air of confidence was what had brought him down in the end.

"With continual change comes new experiences, and different experiences means that you can always look forward to a new and unique day tomorrow. That's something you don't get if you are complacent and perfectly content with living a mundane existence, opting to stay put in one place. Such arrogance never bodes well."

As Rooter had predicted, he had been blinded by his faith, as being left unchallenged by anyone led to him becoming pompous and arrogant.

"Being mentally prepared for anything will greatly assist you in the long run. Learning is a lifelong journey…"

What he should have done was to take Rooter's advice. In spite of the risks, he should have gone out to the Mysterious Beyond and learnt things for himself. He should never have set an arbitrary stopping point in his pursuit of knowledge.

"It's only natural that you think you know everything, but in reality you've only discovered but a mere fraction of what this world has to offer. The rest is but a vast unknown, and without any knowledge of its existence and the willingness to take risks, you would never discover the truths that experience will bestow upon you."

Thicknose fought to keep his blurring vision clear, only to realize that now, and only now, he was outside of the valley.

Covered in white, the treacherous Mysterious Beyond he'd built up in his mind and feared… turned out to not be all that different from the valley he lived in all his life. Thicknose struggled to stand up, but as more and more ground sparkles fell, he eventually realized that it was futile.

He'd hesitated to take the first step into the Mysterious Beyond for his entire life, and now that he had finally crossed that hurdle… it was out of his reach forever.

"In that sense, you're synonymous with a hopper who's trapped in a narrow gorge and making the fallacy of thinking that it is their entire world. You and the hopper lie ignorant to the fact that a swath of great unknowns lie just outside your dwelling should you venture out of your comfort zone."

Thicknose choked on his sobs, blinking away the cold tears streaking down his face, tears that seemed even colder in the icy climate.

Why, oh why, hadn't he explored the splendors of the world for himself when he had the chance?

There was no chance of that happening now. He could feel his sustenance—the very life force that drove and sustained him—leaching from his cooling body and draining down into the barren and slushy ground below his exposed underbelly.

But he didn't care.

He'd failed everyone who had put forth their trust in his ability to use his "knowledge".

The valley, Rooter, Mr. Threehorn, Littlefoot, Ducky…

…literally everyone.

When he was but a young thicknose, Arbor had pinned all his hopes and dreams on a piece of advice that was merely a fragmented part of a greater whole. But as an adult, Thicknose had abused those misguided beliefs and wound up hurt the emotions of many children just to keep up a fruitless charade.

As Thicknose went catatonic and felt his eyelids getting heavy, he realized that this was all he amounted to.

This was his legacy, one that had been propped on his ego until it could bear no more and collapsed in on itself.

It was a sobering thought which made him squint his eyes shut as his body began to shut down.

"My special boy… I truly believe with all my heart that you were hatched to do great things."

I'm so sorry, mommy. I guess that just like everything else, this too, is also a lie…

---

A flyer like Skylar had seen much in her life, but nothing had prepared her for this.

"'Find some green food', he says," the flyer mocked Topps under her breath, emulating the threehorn's brash voice as she was battered by the harsh winds. "If he makes it sound like it's so easy, why isn't Mr. Threehorn out here too, then?"

Despite her complaints, she had taken up the responsibility. It was a massive undertaking, but someone had to do it, and it might as well be her.

That did not mean that the flyer was pleased to learn that she had a ghastly conundrum to deal with. A single glance at her surroundings was enough to hint to her about the enormity of the task ahead.

There wasn't a speck of green anywhere.

"Man, the whole terrain looks depressing."

An airborne Skylar glanced to her left at the remark to see her eldest daughter craning her neck around in disappointment. She had to admit, she was glad that Pitch had pitched in to help. At least Pitch's vibrant russet-brown wings made it easy to spot her in contrast to all the white ground sparkles.

To think that she had been playing with this stuff just yesterday. If she had known that all of the tree stars would die off, she'd have told Petrie to stop, gathered up the rest of her children, and stockpile whatever food she could find.

"Still nothing?" Skylar prompted.

"Nope. I see…" Pitch's voice suddenly halted, the flyer straining her eyes before shouting in excitement. "Hold up! I see something unusual, mom!"

The adult flyer followed her daughter's eye, and she soon saw the same thing that had caught Pitch's attention.

A large mound of snow.

Both flyers made eye contact, a single nod communicating their intent without words.

The possibility of treestars being under there, however scant, was a tantalizing one.

Skylar was the first to land, and she didn't waste any time in using her wings to scoop away some of the snow and uncover the contents hidden beneath.

But of all the things she expected to find under this potential treasure trove, never in her wildest sleep stories did she anticipate being greeted by the empty face of Thicknose himself.

The flyer fought down the urge to scream, though she recoiled back a few steps. With a single look, however, she knew that it was already too late. Thicknose had already succumbed to the cold.

"Pitch!" she called upwards. "It's Thicknose! He's trapped under that slush of frozen sky sparkles!"

Her daughter circled the skies, confusion abound on her face. "Yeah, I can see that! What's he doing under there?"

That was a good question, and one that Skylar was afraid she knew the answer to.

"It's Mr. Threehorn," she cursed. "He berated Thicknose in front of the whole valley yesterday."

It was likely Mr. Threehorn's denouncement and the denouement of his career that had pushed Thicknose over the breaking point.

Normally, making mistakes was considered an acceptable folly. No one liked it, but such instances still happened. It was simply a part of life.

It only took the flyer until now to realize that Thicknose's dignity didn't allow the tutor to be humbled through committing the occasional error every now and then. He didn't have the opportunity to learn how to taste the bitter sting of defeat in a controlled environment until it was the real deal.

For someone who held themselves to such lofty standards, was it really any wonder that he reacted to failure in such a devastating way?

"He ventured out here to die… he died of a broken heart," Skylar finally deduced.

Pitch cocked her head at her mother's words, tightening her arc as she flew so that she could swerve closer to the ground. "Broken heart?" she repeated after her mom. "Color me surprised! I didn't know that Mr. Thicknose was hurting this much inside…"

But in hindsight, they should have been able to see that Thicknose was under enormous stress.

It was easy to expect perfection from someone of his caliber. But conversely, was it right that they also faulted Thicknose for failing to meet said inflated expectations?

No, that would be hypocritical of them. There was no dodging the fact that they had taken his wisdom for granted. And now, all of that wealth of knowledge and experience was gone, lost with him.

"Um, mom? Should we… uh, report this back to the valley?"

Skylar grimaced, her eyes darting back and forth between Thicknose's frozen body and her daughter.

Finally, she made a call.

"We should, Pitch. This famine might be far worse than we expected," Her resigned eyes shifted to the snow-covered Thicknose. "The one dinosaur who could have guided us in our hour of need has perished."

As Pitch nodded and began to ascend, Skylar shifted her feet across the slush under her, making distinct markings in the snow in case they needed to return to this spot later.

It was ironic how something so soft to the touch and seemingly innocuous ended up bringing such devastation and destruction to those around it. As brand new white sparkles fell back onto the exposed region of Thicknose's frill, the flyer found that all the snow that she had previously brushed away from the corpse's face was replaced, the harsh weather engulfing him under a layer of snow once again — the cruelty of nature at its finest.

With a forlorn sigh, Skylar silently took off to the skies above. The onus was now on her to break the depressing news to the valley.

In the span of a single day, one of the valley's great pillars of support and wisdom—the wise teacher who they had all taken for granted—was now gone.

And in the wake of his passing, the flyer felt hollow. Thicknose's presence and influence was ubiquitous, and his loss opened a gaping void that would not be mended easily.

To lose a dedicated teacher like Thicknose simply because of a few insensitive words that had been uttered in the heat of the moment…

…now that was the real tragedy.

---

Author's Note:

Gotta have that angst tragedy. It's virtually a tradition for Land Before Time by this point…

First things first, I named Thicknose Arbor because the name has forestry connotations in it, so 'tree of knowledge' and all that. Who managed to guess that the wandering dinosaur he was talking to was Rooter before the end of their talk, anyway?

The 'hopper in the gorge' analogy is based on the Chinese adage of 'the frog in the well'. I hope I adapted it well to the current context, and the moral is indeed the same — someone who lives under a rock all their life can be ignorant of the big picture, having a narrow view of the world.

And now moving on as to why this story even exists in the first place. Yep… Five Stages of Grief. Never thought that I'd come back to it. Those of you who know me on Discord probably are aware that this wasn't supposed to be my original Jan prompt at all. Additionally, this could actually pass off as a The Big Freeze story if not for the scene between Ducky and Thicknose, a scene originally from FSoG just with the opposite POV, as everything else in this fic was original or freshly adapted from the source film. I'd received reviews that the portrayal of Ducky's outburst in Five Stages of Grief was spectacularly crafted, and I would just like to express my personal opinion that the reason as to why it had made such an impact is less so because of how it went down, but rather more because the events led to an uncharacteristically angry—and justifiably so—Ducky acting in a way that seems foreign to most of us.

LBT almost never portrays Ducky in an antagonistic or negative light with the exception of her animosity towards Spike in The Big Freeze—what a coincidence, huh?—and the TV series episode Search for the Sky Colored Stones, so to see Ducky genuinely lose her temper in any kind of capacity is truly terrifying indeed, especially when compounded with the effect it ended up having on an already distressed Thicknose. Interesting butterfly effect to ponder about — if Ducky didn't venture out after Spike, then the gang wouldn't have ventured out to look for her and found Thicknose in the snow…

I didn't manage to explore the full ramifications and consequences of her actions due to FSoG primarily being a Ducky-centric story, which was partially why I decided to write this as a follow-up, but I think the point I would like to stress here is that words can be a very important asset when used correctly, but also a damning tool when used poorly at the wrong time. Or as I shall proceed to quote from someone who told me the following words and inspired me to come back to this AU…

"Your words and actions have a great influence on others, positive or negative. Always exercise mercy, because you will never know what the other party is feeling inside. If you end up hurting others unknowingly, the consequences and guilt can last a lifetime."

And conversely, the opposite also holds true. Your words can affect others in more ways than one. They can pick someone up, but they can also ruin their day, and like with Thicknose sometimes you can't tell that they're hurting inside. So with all that said and done… who will you be around others in your daily life? Would you be a Rooter, or will you be a Thicknose and Ducky?

---

Well, I hope you enjoyed this tale, as painful as it is. I refuse to write something correlated to Five Stages of Grief if it doesn't at least hold a candle to the original, so I hope it shows! Poor, poor Thicknose...

It was inevitable that I come up with something in this board, lol.

Now we've all heard the spiels and debates regarding the age and birth order of the Gang, so let's try something different and more amiable instead: making up their birthdays!

Rules are simple. Name any LBT character and give a reason for choosing that Star Day for them! The reasoning can be completely serious or absolutely idiosyncratic. Even if someone above has already come up with one for said character, you can still add your own opinion if you have a different date in mind.
Sentence structure would be "I believe *insert LBT character*'s Star Day is *insert chosen date* because *state your reason*".

So, I'll start.
I believe Ruby's Star Day is February 2nd because everything she does is double.

So for the turn of the decade, resident fanfic author Owls shall attempt (key word) to foray in the vast unexplored realm of fanart.

Just a heads up, I am not the best artist.

Here is my submission for the Nov/Dec 2019 Fanart Prompt: Humanization

Spike the Composting Machine

(ignore the composing typo)

The idea for this came when I was reading about biofuels. But seriously, wouldn't Spike be a perfect compost machine if the Gang were in our world? He'll gobble up your excess food and provide you a ton of stinky biofuel.

It's a win-win, and Spike will be one happy spiketail! Hope you liked it!

Redclaw, and Red Claw.

I've seen both spellings in forum posts, wiki comments, the internet, the likes.

Now I see Red Claw (with two words - and that's the one the TV series credits use themselves) more than the other, and that is the term I prefer, but is there a clear consensus and one you prefer over the other? Or do you use them interchangeably and confuse even more people. Does the spelling even bother you or is it just me?

June 2019 Fanfic prompt entry.
Time to turn that frown upside-down!
…or is that the other way around?

FFN Link: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13347415/1/Of-Broken-Words-and-Mud-Brothers

Description: Ostracized and considered an oddball amidst his peers, a Big Water swimmer tries to prove himself, allowing a storm to send him careening into the Great Valley. Hungry for company, he cunningly entangles his fate with that of five young landwalkers. But can the nascent bonds of friendship between those who are so different really be forced, or will this end up backfiring terribly?

---

Of Broken Words and Mud Brothers

Words in italics indicate character thoughts.

Alright, I've been away from the prompt challenge for a while due to real life affairs, but I'm back for now and hopefully here to stay for the remainder of 2019. Man, I seriously missed writing for these prompts.

Without further ado, the theme for the month of June 2019 is: "Write a story where a character learns a lesson about the facts of life. This can be played for seriousness or for laughs."

A/N: Prologue chapter is set before the events of LBT IX: Journey to Big Water.

---

Chapter 1: Vivid and Vibrant Purple

Big Water Mo ho-o-ome!

…but, Mo not like Big Water…

If one could look into the colorful swimmer's head, his thought process appeared to be rather outlandish… in fact, it seemed nonsensically paradoxical.

How could such an opinion possibly come to be? It made no apparent sense. From the very moment that Mo had been born, aquamarine blue already surrounded his eyes. Water was as much of a part of him as his water foot. It was practically everywhere, washing over his body as he swam. As such, how could an individual who was attuned to such a lifestyle ever since young choose not to accept it, especially when they were constantly surrounded by water?

The very thought lies madness!

And yet, that was truly what Mo felt. Unlike what most would think, he had never felt at home in the Big Water…

"Hey, lookie here! If it isn't Mo, my favorite quirky swimmer!"

Mo froze, his body going stiff as he heard the smarmy voice that rang out from the distance. He then squinted his eyes, using his species' innate gift of excellent vision to discern the source.

Although a quick scan through his eyes came up with zilch, Mo felt the length of his body tensing up, the swimmer already preparing for the inevitable. After all, part of the reason as to why he felt this way about his so-called home was because of the one who had spoken from afar.

He spun his tail about, rapidly moving his body in the direction of food and hoping to lose his pursuers. With any luck, he would be able to catch some hapless fish in his jaws and eat in peace.

"Hmph!" A triumphant cackle which permeated through the water put a quick end to that fleeting thought. "Would you look at that, Kelp? I think he's trying to run away!"

Any such luck had eluded him, it would seem. The voice from earlier made a curt observation to his partner-in-crime, and more alarmingly for Mo, was much louder in amplitude than his initial words from earlier, signaling to the distressed Mo that they were closing in on him.

Before he even knew it, Mo saw two shadows fall across his face, telling him without a doubt that the duo had descended upon him.

There they were. Orca and Kelp. The two swimmers who Mo definitely did not want to see right now.

The swimmers in question were similar in their builds and appearances to Mo, the only major difference being their significantly duller colors as compared to his vibrant indigo body and sandy yellow underbelly.

But unfortunately, that was where the similarities ended. They couldn't be more different from him.

"Going somewhere, Mo?" Orca challenged when he heard no response coming from Mo, his brow furrowed as he snorted. "Judging by your apprehensive face, I take it that there's no chance for us to have a friendly chat?"

Mo initially looked away and stilled upon discerning Orca's voice and the unpleasant message that had been conveyed by the male's remark, but he eventually willed himself to whirl around with an exaggerated U-turn, a jovial smile instantly turning his frown upside-down before anyone was able to catch sight of his somber mood. "Well, look like you caught Mo out," he warbled to the two in a careful tone before rapidly waving his fins at them. "So hello there, friends!"

"Hush now." Orca glowered at Mo with a serious expression, signaling for him to cut the gesture. "We are not friends," the swimmer made sure to correct Mo, hitting his bottom fins against each other to further emphasize his point. "The two of us are just kin mates… and reluctant ones at that! Acquaintances, Mo," he stressed again. "Get that fact drilled into your head."

"But that not mean we cannot be friends… Orca still can be friends with Mo!" he cheekily retorted, now feeling calmer as he relentlessly teased Orca. Mo prudently kept the distress he felt out of his eyes, nodding his head slightly to acknowledge the swimmer drifting by Orca's side. "And what brings you here too-o-o?"

"We've been looking for you." The female voice chided, her snide tone of voice allowing Mo to tell even if he hadn't had any visual cues that the curt remark had come from Kelp, who had remained silent up until now.

Mo slowly alternated his tail fin left and right, edging away from the troublesome duo. "Well, you manage find Mo," he said, putting on a tough front as his eyes darted between the two swimmers. "So what you both want from Mo-o-o-o?"

Orca chortled at Mo's embellished enunciation of his name, the swimmer flashing his teeth in amusement. "Don't act all innocuous. That tactic won't work on me—"

"—or me!" Kelp added as she interrupted her partner, much to the male's annoyance. "Acting like you don't know why we're here when you've constantly kept yourself secluded from the rest of us…" she continued. "We wouldn't be pestering you so much if you didn't always seem so keen to dodge our interactions."

Seeing Mo blink at her in befuddlement, Kelp snorted and looked at the swimmer with an expression which conveyed pure disappointment. "You always keep to yourself, you know? I mean, you barely contribute to the overall well-being of our group when we should be a cohesive water kin."

Mo frowned very slightly. It was no mere coincidence, of course. And yet, Orca and Kelp seemed to enjoy bringing this observation up to his attention over and over again. It was as if they wanted to force some change in his behavior by continually embarrassing him, treating his refusal to be around the other swimmers as some sort of scornful act, a deliberate move of defiance on his part.

Quite the over-exaggeration, Mo had to say.

"Ahhhh… Mo not able click well with you both," he tried to shrug it off, downplaying the issue once more by giving Orca and Kelp the same excuse that he'd always given them. "Need more time before we can be friends!"

"Oh, Mo…" Kelp giggled, rubbing her underbelly with her bottom fins in bemusement. "You misunderstand. Orca and I didn't swim all the way here just to pester you."

…for once, Mo added in his mind, fighting to keep the mental scowl off his face.

"We were actually tasked to find you," Orca followed, his amber eyes flashing as they shifted from Kelp to Mo. "Our water kin has called for a meeting, and you, my friend—" he practically sneered the word out, "—are going to be the centerpiece of it!"

"What this about?" Mo hedged, a sense of apprehension slowly swirling within him. "Why water kin want summon Mo?"

Unable to contain her excitement, Kelp held her fin out to stop Orca before he could answer. Her violet eyes twinkling, she spun about in a circle before barking her response.

"It's the Old One! Tenor is calling a meeting!"

As the reverberation of Kelp's declaration died down and her words registered in Mo's mind, Mo found himself unable to keep up his nonchalant charade. His jaw dropped in a spectacular display before a look of concern found itself firmly etched on his face.

Tenor call water kin meeting? Ohhhh… Mo not like sound of this…

"Hey, Mo!" An irritated Orca snapped him out of his stupor before he could dwell on this new tidbit. "I know you're slow to absorb things, but you're not as slow as a star swimmer! So let's hurry and get a move on already!"

Before Mo could even react, Orca and Kelp had made their way to his left and right respectively, surrounding him on both sides. "What you doin-n-ng to Mo?" he asked, looking at them uneasily when he noted that they were both conveniently situated in a position where they would be able to intercept him if he attempted an escape.

"Um… isn't the answer as plain as the Big Water is vast? We're escorting you to the meeting, duh!" Kelp responded with a melodramatic sigh, rolling her eyes at Mo for good measure. The dismissive gesture wasn't needed to show her contempt, however. Her disdainful voice was enough to make it clear that she didn't like the task that she had been assigned in the slightest.

Sensing that he—and Orca and Kelp as well, it would seem—had no choice or say in the matter, Mo relented and didn't put up any additional verbal struggle, letting the two swimmers usher him back to the others.

As Mo swam back under escort and ploughed through the water, he eventually made visual with everyone else. The rest of the water kin was already waiting for them, forming a circle with a large reef structure situated behind them.

To an untrained eye, they were practically invisible as the similar colors between the swimmers and the vibrant coral allowed them to keep themselves hidden from any predators. Even in the unlikely event of any attack, any potential enemy would be quickly spotted as they could only close in from specific angles because the rocky formation blocked all other approaches from behind.

In other words, it was the perfect meeting spot.

Though Mo may have perked up at the sight of his water kin, he inwardly felt a sense of dread.

And the source of that foreboding was the swimmer who was directly in the middle of the clan. His most striking feature was the many maroon red spots and stripes that decorated his body and eyes. It was certainly a unique trait, as most of the other swimmers had an orange hue to these spots.

There was no mistaking him. This was Tenor, the Old One of his water kin.

Every swimmer who swam in the Big Water knew about the Old Ones. They were a collective group of wise Big Water swimmer elders, each one put in charge of their very own shoal of water kin.

However, the reverend title of 'Old One' wasn't actually a static one. It was ever-changing, and could actually be conferred onto any member. As their species operated on a junior-senior hierarchy, whenever a swimmer leader found themselves too incapacitated to carry out their duties or passed on to the Great Beyond, the mantle would be thrust upon the oldest of the next generation, who would then take charge of their group and continue the cycle anew.

For the water kin that Mo was in, the age range and proportions of the various swimmers were relatively on the young side compared to some others. The current oldest swimmer in their water kin was the one named Tenor who Kelp had spoken of with great fanfare earlier, a large and modest middle-aged swimmer. Their previous leader had unfortunately succumbed just the day before, so this was Tenor's first meeting as the newly promoted leader of their water kin.

This change of command gravely concerned him. Tenor was significantly younger than his predecessor and Mo was quite worried that the new leader might end up being easily swayed by the some of the others, especially as he needed to retain popular support among the swimmers lest he lose his flimsy power hold over the small group. He was, after all, a brand new leader who had just taken over.

In fact, it was quite likely the reason as to why Tenor had called for the meeting to begin with. Although Mo did not understand the full reasoning and complex politics behind such a move, even he was able to understand Tenor's intentions through his very own personal philosophy.

When you have more friends by your side, you will have more fu-u-u-un!

"Ah, it looks like Orca and Kelp have managed to locate Mo," Tenor said with a smile when he saw the last three swimmers closing up the circle. "We are finally at full strength, so I think that now is the time. Let us begin in earnest!" he declared to the joy of the waiting swimmers.

As the others cheered, Mo could feel the ominous sense of foreboding surge through him, a feeling that was only amplified as Tenor opened his speech.

"Greetings, fellow water kin!" Tenor started when the noise has subsided, his green eyes flitting around the various swimmers as he addressed the group. "It is with great honor that I now assume the roles and responsibilities that have been bestowed upon me as the new Old One."

There was another round of excited claps and whistles as Tenor spoke, forcing the new leader to clamp his mouth shut until his hyperactive audience calmed themselves down.

His gaze then darkened as his eyes fell on a certain swimmer in particular. "Let us get down to business. I have convened this meeting because of something that has been brought to my attention. It is a topic that I think we are all very well aware of…"

Mo shuddered, hiding his eyes behind his fins as he felt all eyes turn on him even before Tenor had completed his sentence. Though he already had a feeling that it was coming, having it actually play out first-hand was still a frightening experience that no amount of internal preparation can ready an individual for.

Seeing that the swimmers under his charge were a few water feet ahead of him, Tenor decided to jump ahead and skip directly to the point. "As a water kin, we need synergy to coexist with one another. Everyone must band together as a collective team of swimmers in order to succeed. That is why I hold the opinion that excluding a swimmer is bad form, so I would like to know why I've seen the whole lot of you do exactly that to Mo for many seasons prior."

Mo peeked out when he heard Tenor's words. Was he calling out those like Orca and Kelp? Ostensible as it was, the direction of the talk at hand was certainly not what he had in mind.

"Reasons? I can give you a whole lot of reasons, Old One!"

Mo suppressed a groan as Orca jerked towards Tenor, the youthful swimmer looking ready to unleash a barrage of comments. Now this meeting was headed in the direction that he had anticipated.

"This fella right here," Orca gestured to Mo, "is going to make us the laughing stock of the entire Big Water."

"I am well aware of that, Orca." Tenor grimaced. "I have heard that complaint brought up to the previous Old One many times before. You must recall that I have been my predecessor's deputy for many Cold Times past before taking up the position of Old One myself."

Even the brash Orca knew when he had crossed a line. Mo had to admit that he had a wider grin than usual when he saw his rival bowing his head. "My apologies, Old One. I know that you never interacted much with Mo as compared to many of us, but please hear me out, Old One. He… he…" the swimmer trailed off at the end, twiddling his fins together as he struggled to find the most tactful words that he could use to describe Mo.

However, Kelp was much less concerned about being sensitive in front of Tenor.

"He talks like a complete dolt! That Mo… he must have been hit hard in the head by a rock face when he was born! I mean, seriously… he's a complete embarrassment! Who even talks like that? Is it any wonder that no other group wants to associate with our school of water kin so long as Mo remains in our ranks?"

Mo kept on smiling even as Kelp put him down, her negative words cutting him like a swimming sharptooth's jaw. His happy mood was all a front though, but he kept it up nevertheless.

After all, if he didn't smile, he would cry.

"Look, Orca," Kelp gestured to Mo, the female swimmer giggling to herself, "he has that dumb smile plastered on his face again. It's like whatever we say just goes right through him. I mean, it's Mo we're talking about here."

"Please keep your personal opinions out of this discussion." Tenor raised his fins to silence Kelp, an annoyed look flashing across his face. It probably only just hit him that he had to mediate this talk with the presence of such vocal speakers. "We are trying to be as objective as possible," he appended an explanation when he saw Kelp pouting at him.

Kelp only whined further, trying to insist on her point. "You can ask the others, Old One! They all share my opinion!" she professed.

Tenor pursed his lips. "Is that so?" he asked, looking at the crowd expectantly.

Mo adamantly kept silent as the others judged him with their eyes as Tenor looked on. Though many of them had indeed teased him for his distinct manner of speech before, the true instigators were primarily Orca and Kelp. The others usually had to be coerced by those two to join in with the bouts of bullying.

As a result, it was quite imperative that he didn't let those two get the upper hand by opening his mouth. If he spoke, it would be easy for Orca and Kelp to prove their point. And once that happened, the other swimmers would fearlessly join in and sully his good name.

Like Mo had expected, his strategy worked. Without Orca or Kelp to take command, none of the swimmers felt pressured to target Mo.

"Well, Kelp." Tenor finally broke the silence that had ensued. "No one here has so much as said a word in concurrence. Therefore, I feel inclined to believe that what you'd just said pertaining to Mo is not the case—"

"Hold it right there!"

Everyone turned to Orca, who had interrupted Tenor mid-speech. Mo could see that the swimmer was seething at the turn of events.

But then, his anger dissipated almost instantaneously. Mo perked up, glancing at Orca with morbid curiosity. Seeing him calm down instead of lashing out was definitely an unnerving display considering Orca's typical behavior.

Of course, it turned out that Orca had a very good reason for reacting this way.

His jaw curled into a sardonic smirk as he made direct eye contact with Mo. "Say, your bright colors are very noticeable, even when we dive deep down into the depths in areas where the Bright Circle can't reach…" he accused, his gleaming amber eyes flitting between Mo and the many swimmers who now had their undivided attention on him.

"Don't you see, Mo? Because of your striking colors, you are a prominent target who can easily be seen from afar. In other words, you could attract the swimming sharpteeth to us! You're a danger to us all, and you have been for many Cold Times! The safety of the water kin may be compromised because of you and your vivid tint of purple!"

W-Where that come from?!

Mo hadn't expected that at all. He had been prepared for Orca badmouthing him to Tenor, but this was the first time that Orca had ever brought this up. It must have been a last resort, something that he must have saved for a moment like this.

The swimmer suddenly felt very self-conscious. Mo was certainly aware that his body's shade of indigo was more pronounced and brighter in saturation as compared to most of his kind, but it had never once crossed his mind that his distinct color would make such a difference or have such a profound impact.

Bright purple color make Mo special! No other swimmer have color like Mo! So why does water kin think Mo being bright purple is bad thing? Should be good, not bad! Tenor also different color! Why water kin only target Mo!? It not fair!

"I… I never really noticed that before," Tenor confessed, unable to take his eyes off Mo.

As though that remark from their leader was a signal, everyone began chattering to one another, gossiping amongst themselves.

"It's true, isn't it!? Orca has a point!"

"Yeah! Mo's skin color is brighter than the rest of us! It genuinely might be bait for sharpteeth!"

"Is that why my parents used to tell me to stay away from Mo?"

"Like gee, I knew about his speaking issues, but this is probably ten times worse!"

Mo grit his teeth and gnashed them together in frustration as he heard the influx of disparaging remarks, but otherwise kept up his jolly smile. He didn't want to show his contemporaries just how much they were affecting him by their words. Sucked in by Orca's observation, the others had misconstrued Orca's words, taking the swimmer's exaggerated tales about Mo out of context and completely blowing the whole thing way out of proportion.

Thankfully, he was saved by the Old One himself.

"Silence!" Tenor raised his voice to drown out the chatter before it could get further out of hand, the new leader paddling towards the center of the group as he glared at his kin mates. "Cease your incessant squabbling at once, all of you!"

The effects of his words was instantaneous. The rage in their elder's voice was so succinct that it quelled the formerly rowdy crowd significantly.

As his eyes darted around, Tenor gave the members of his water kin a reprimanding gaze. It was a simple, nondescript look which conveyed volumes about the situation.

The message was clear — keep things under control, or else.

"I have heard enough from all of you," the larger swimmer said, shooting everyone a warning gaze once more. "And loath as I am to admit it, a couple of you have brought up some valid points regarding Mo," he conceded with a sigh. "I am still a firm believer that we must all be close-knit as one water kin. So as reluctant as it may be, if the majority of you truly feel that Mo is not a good fit for us, I may have to let him go from our water kin…"

Mo gaped, making an audible sound for the first time since the meeting had begun. He swallowed, feeling faint as the full ramifications of what Tenor had said hit him.

"Alright! Y'all heard it from Tenor! It is at this very moment that the new Old One has requested that we make a stand about Mo!" As Orca was preaching to the crowd about the momentous decision that his speech had all been leading up to, he covertly shot Mo a shrewd look which screamed of victory.

Kelp also took this chance to speak up, the female gleefully relishing the moment. "Orca's right! Listen up, all of you!" she said to the swimmers. "This is your chance to finally say what you feel about Mo after multiple Cold Times of having to tolerate his nonsense—"

"The Old One has requested for a vote," Orca lowered his voice to bring the topic back on track, the full weight of the situation crashing down as he took a tentative pause to give their kin mates time to ponder. He swam back and forth across the circle of swimmers, sadly shaking his head as he feigned an emotion of despair over having to pose the dreaded question.

"Will Mo be a part of our new water kin… or not?"

Mo held his breath, unwilling to face the crowd. Even without being prompted, he turned his back to the murmuring swimmers, nerves getting the better of him as he began to quiver.

The whole thing all seemed so surreal. Were his kin mates really debating his fate just behind him? Was this really happening?

"Ahem!" Mo heard Tenor clearing his throat, freezing in place as the elder continued to speak. "It would appear that the decision has been made."

Indeed, it was.

Mo felt his heart sinking like a sunken stone as he slowly turned around and swept his eyes across the various members of his water kin. He could do naught but merely blink his aqua eyes repeatedly when he saw every single swimmer in the vicinity raising a fin in agreement with Orca and Kelp.

It was a unanimous vote of no confidence.

Tenor clicked his tongue, despondently shaking his head as he said four simple words to Mo that summarized the situation perfectly.

"I'm so sorry."

Mo composed himself at Tenor's apology, struggling not to burst into tears. In one fell swoop, his name and reputation had been thoroughly besmirched. Even those who had a neutral opinion at first most likely had their impressions of him marred and tarnished when Orca brought the possible safety concern up to their attention.

Needless to say, Mo was absolutely crestfallen, unable to believe that he had deceived himself into somehow presuming that the outcome of the meeting would favor him. Tenor's amiability had caught him off guard at first, allowing Mo to maintain some faith that he would be vindicated when Orca and Kelp had tried to have their way right up to the very end.

He had been terribly wrong. And as a harsh consequence, Mo also learned an important lesson the hard way.

Regardless of how cozy the atmosphere around might be, it was important to never let one's guard down. The cruel stab of treachery and betrayal might strike at any time and come from anyone, no matter how unlikely the source of it might be.

Look like water kin not really friends with Mo after all. They all not want Mo be around them…

Mo very sad. Mo not able trust anybody now…

And indeed, there was nobody that one could trust more than yourself. After all, the truest and most loyal of friends were rare specimens indeed.

To have real friends who could see him for who he truly was and not as a bumbling failure of a swimmer…

…it was but a fleeting dream.

---

Author's Note:

This fic was supposed to be a oneshot. It was, it really was. However, there were two reasons as to why that is no longer the case. One is the impending prompt response deadline, and the other is that after planning the story outline the estimated final word count appeared to hover around 20K+ words, which is way above my threshold for a oneshot. A combination of those factors eventually led to me splitting this into a multi-chapter fic.

Much like The Threehorn Way, I also feel that this chapter by itself doesn't fully nail the prompt the way that I originally intended. While it certainly works and fulfills the prompt requirement on its lonesome, I'll definitely recommend reading the entire piece when it is complete, and only then, compare it to the prompt as a whole.

Anyway, the main character here is Mo! Surprised? There hasn't been a lot of Mo-centric fics involving him or his water kin (The Perils of the Deep—though Mo wasn't the main character there—and a few chapters of The Swimmer Trials are all that come to mind in recent memory), so I decided to give our favorite optimistic swimmer a moment in the spotlight. Though speaking of optimistic, Mo might seem significantly less jovial than one might expect from his character, but just stick with me on this, okay?

Still, I do hope you enjoy this tale overall. This is my first attempt (second if you count the few sparse moments that the swimmer herd has been seen in Waves Crashing Upon the Sky thus far) in capturing complex herd dynamics and interactions with OC herd members. It's more of a Rhombus and Sovereign thing, really.

Next time, we'll see how a despondent Mo copes with his fellow swimmers kicking him out.

---

Really wanted to have this be a long single-chap oneshot like Five Stages of Grief last year, but alas the time crunch got me for the prompt! I'll be working hard on Chapter 2 now and try to release it asap!

December 2018 Fanfic prompt entry. Just in time, too!

FFN Link: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13193267/1/The-Threehorn-Way

Description: What makes Cera tick? Are threehorns always right and the best at everything?

---

The Threehorn Way

Words in italics indicate flashbacks.

The Gang of Five forum's Fanfic Prompt Challenge for the year of 2019 is up! Since I'd thoroughly enjoyed the creative writing prompts for the July and August entries in the previous year, I'm hoping to be a bit more active for the contest this year.

Granted, not all the prompts are my cup of tea, but I'll do my best for those I'm confident about! The theme for the month of December 2018 is: "Religious or not, we all have beliefs or certainties that sustain us, even in our most desperate moments. Write a story showcasing a character relying on his/her beliefs, morals, or philosophy to overcome an obstacle or hardship."

---

Chapter 1: Daddy's Threehorn Way

"You must remember to always be strong and unrelenting, Cera. Threehorns like us must never give up. We shall not falter… even in the face of defeat, we must never surrender without giving it our all!"

"…and the reason for that is because we threehorns are the best at everything! We're better than longnecks, swimmers, spiketails, even those stupid flyers! There's a reason we don't need to be together with anyone, and that's because we're better than them all!"

That was what I had been taught by my mommy and daddy from hatch day.

And yeah, sure, I guess I don't actually remember my hatch day, but having your mommy and daddy constantly emphasize those words every night for the past five Cold Times of your life meant that it eventually got ingrained into me.

Mama always tells me the first statement, while daddy always says the second. According to my daddy, this is what he calls the Threehorn Way. Yes… that's the way that we threehorns breathe and live!

Did I mention that I was a threehorn?

…no?

Hmph! Come on, isn't it obvious?

Is the answer still no?

Well, let me say it here, then! In fact, let me mention it so many times that our ancestors hanging out in the stars above will never forget it for the rest of their eternal afterlife in the Great Beyond!

I'm Cera, and I am the very best threehorn that there is!

That's right! I may be young, but I just know that I'm destined to be the greatest threehorn in the whole wide Mysterious Beyond! Heh! I betcha that I'm better than all of my sisters… yes, even Jabber! Even if she'd hatched the first out of all of us, I swear that I'll surpass her one day, and the fact that I'm the runt of the litter won't change that!

I'll prove it, too! Soon I'll be a big threehorn, just like my mommy and daddy! And once that happens… the world will tremble before the great Cera's might! Muhahahaha!

If I close my eyes right now, I could see the road to my glorious future paved for me right under my feet! I'll be a herd leader, yes… the strongest threehorn of them all! I'll be so strong by that point that I'll be able to crush smoking mountains with my bare three horns! Hee hee hee!

Of course, I would actually have to make it to adulthood first… which, unfortunately, is quite a problem at the moment.

For you see, I most unfortunately happen to be in quite a bit of a pickle right now. And why, you may ask?

Hmph! Ya think I'd tell you, just like that? I'm not someone who lets sensitive information slip from my tongue haphazardly! You have some nerve to assume that!

…wait, really?

Hee, you're certainly persistent! I like that! You have the threehorn attitude, don'tcha? Well, it is quite a confusing tale, so perhaps I should start at the very beginning…

---

To think that it had all started with a laugh.

Looking back, it had been such a minor occurrence compared to all the nonsense that I've had to go through thereafter. Funny how one only realized that in retrospect.

But before suffering through all of that, that moment was one of the most memorable moments for me… in a bad kind of way.

I had just gotten sprayed by the vilest thing ever from a buzzer, and in the most humiliating manner too. While shaking the disgusting purple liquid off my face, I felt my heart stop when my ears were able to discern the sound of a childish laugh.

Flicking the last of the annoying liquid off my eyes, I shift my hind legs about to spin around and get a close look at the source of the voice, only to find myself surprised to see that it had come from a young longneck boy giggling at me. He was trying to keep himself hidden in the tall ferns… though he wasn't doing a very good job at it, considering that his very own laugh gave him away.

Are these dinosaurs called longnecks, anyway? Daddy mentioned them in passing once or twice… but I don't really recall. I mean, we threehorns keep to ourselves most of the time, so I don't see other species often. Not that it matters… we are the best, after all!

Needless to say, I wasn't pleased to learn that there was a witness to that embarrassing incident. It was something that I had intended to take with me to my end, even if said end was a sharptooth's jaw, and now someone else knows about it?

How dare he?! That disrespectful, spying little flathead jerk! I'll show him! This was now a matter of pride — I'll make sure that he'll never, ever have the guts to narrate this mortifying incident to another dinosaur, even if I have to force him to agree to my terms and conditions by beating him to a pulp!

"What are you laughing at?!" I snarled furiously at him, relishing the gasp of surprise on him when he realized that he'd been caught out like a fresh treestar against this barren wasteland.

I wasn't going to give the longneck any time to contemplate his life choices, however. This was one mistake that was going to end in painful bruises for him. Pawing at the ground with my front legs, I leaned forward and prepared to unleash some pain.

A growl left my mouth when I saw him jump out of the vegetation and attempt to mimic my movements — crouching down and pawing at the ground as well.

Why, that little…! Did he actually think that he was a threehorn? The gall of him! Oh, that's the last straw! How dare that punk even try to mimic my movements? I'm gonna pummel him!

Closing my eyes tightly shut, I let my instincts guide me as I lunged towards him, thrusting my single horn forward as I charged in the direction of the ignorant boy with all my might. Opening my mouth, I let out a furious bellow, feeling the wind blowing hard against my face at the speed that I was racing towards my target.

But my Daddy beat me to it.

With a large looming shadow, he backed me up and hissed a low growl at the longneck. Sure enough, he got the hint and began backing away.

Daddy then took that as his cue for his job being done. With a firm voice that brokered no disagreement, he turned towards me. "Come, Cera. Threehorns never play with long… necks."

He was trying to keep a level head, but I could see that Daddy was fuming within. Why else would he drawl out the word "longnecks" and mispronounce the species name when I knew perfectly well that he could say it correctly had he wanted to.

Of course, Daddy's behavior made it glaringly obvious to me that he didn't want to dignify a lower species like them.

With my Daddy by my back, I feel a burst of confidence flow through me, making me stick my tongue out at the flathead before stomping out from under my Daddy's feet to personally confront him. "Threehorns never play with longnecks!" I articulated to the longneck, repeating my Daddy's statement while glaring daggers at the ignorant, pesky boy as I nonchalantly shot down whatever idea he might have had brewing in his flat little head.

The confused lad didn't even get the chance to reply. As I aggressively strut towards him as an intimidation tactic, his—very big—parent gently lifted the flathead up by the tail and headed off.

Hah! Serves that stalker right! Yeah, you better run!

A moment later, I felt my own situation mirroring the longneck's. I panicked for a brief moment until I realized that it was my own Daddy that was lifting me off the ground to get us away from that filthy flathead.

As my Daddy and the big longneck began heading in opposite directions, I let a smirk adorn my face when I realize that I'd won.

I beat that longneck fair and square! He was terrified of me… he feared me! Muhahahaha!

Very unlike my usual self, I let out a tiny squeal of joy. Beating that flathead stalker was the first step on my path of following my Daddy's teachings to become the best threehorn to ever roam this land. It appeared to me that obeying what he said would allow me to succeed in the goal that I'd promised myself to achieve — being the very best threehorn ever.

In other words, this Threehorn Way that my father spoke off as gospel? It totally ruled!

---

The elation eventually wore off, though. It slowly left me as the Bright Circle set and the Night Circle came up.

I stretch my feet on the dirt ground, groggily gazing at my family as my mama cooed my sisters.

"Why aren't you with them, Cera?" My Daddy called out in curiosity, tilting his head inquisitively as he asked me what I personally felt was an admittedly stupid question.

I distinctly remember answering him in jest, holding my head proudly up to the night sky. "Well, I'm better than them, Daddy! I'm a big girl now, I can sleep all by myself!"

Daddy appeared to be momentarily shocked, but a wide grin and a hearty laugh soon replaced the flicker of mild concern that flashed on his face. Before I could whine and complain to Daddy about being too overprotective of me, he surprised me by nuzzling my face with his horn.

"Now that's my Cera! That's my big threehorn daughter!" he heartily said to me, causing me to giggle in return and reciprocate the gesture.

"Topps?" I perk my head as I heard my Mama calling for my Daddy. "A little help with the other kids here? They're being extra clingy today!"

"I'm coming, dear!" Daddy muttered with a sigh, before facing me with jubilant eyes. "Remember the Threehorn Way, Cera. We threehorns are the best at everything, and you've just proved that to me by showing bravery."

But as he stood up and walked over, Daddy suddenly murmured in a soft voice. "Stepping outside her comfort zone… they grow up so fast…"

"Now, now." I heard my Mama chuckle. "She might be independent, but she's still our little Cera…"

As Daddy went on over, everyone else huddled together as a group. Eventually, they all collectively let the sweet embrace of sleep claim them.

But I, on the other hand, was still wide awake, unable to fall asleep.

Eventually I couldn't take it anymore. With a grunt I lazily got to my feet and trudged off to get some fresh air. And rather fortunately for me, the rest of my family was still sound asleep.

Big threehorn, remember? That's what Daddy said I was. Surely I was big enough to have a little night walk on my own without waking them up?

I trudged along the path, a hopping green thing suddenly catching my eye. I made sure to quicken my pace as I saw the hopper bouncing away from me.

How dare it try to get away from me? I resent that! I mean, I'm the greatest!

However, those thoughts were eventually dashed in the most unexpected of ways.

I quirked my head when the hopper returned back to me, a surprised gasp leaving me when I saw why.

The longneck from earlier was ecstatically chasing it.

Graghhh! Did that fool know nothing about personal space? I had literally just told him that threehorns never play with longnecks!

"You again?" I spit as I charged right up to his ignorant little face. "Go away!" My eyes briefly hover to the green hopper that had also caught his brown eyes. Without wasting any time, I instantly took it upon myself to beat him again. "That's my hopper!" I declared, turning back to chase after it for myself.

Truth be told, I hadn't even wanted to catch it until I followed the longneck's eyes and saw him eyeing it as well, but I wasn't going to tell him that. Life was a competition, and I intended to win at everything, right down to something as small and minuscule as possession over a hopper.

It might seem insignificant, but my Daddy told me not to give anyone any leeway!

"I saw him first…" I heard him grumble in disdain. I almost rolled my eyes at his incessant arguing. Can't he see that he couldn't beat me?! Without looking back, I conjure up the first excuse that I could think of to dispute his claim.

"Well, he's in my pond!" I shoot back at him as I jumped down to the marshy swampland, landing in the dirty water and ending up right next to the hopper. If the longneck wanted to argue that it was his hopper so much, then I'll prove him wrong by catching it first!

Just as I was about to pounce on the ugly looking thing, I feel a force plough into my behind, leading to my face being pushed into the mud. As I shake my head to flick the grimy liquid off my face, I came face-to-face with a sheepish looking longneck. Apparently he'd liked my slide maneuver enough to try it for himself.

Geez, what a lame copycat.

I shot him a warning glare for the moment, refocusing my attention on the hopper as it disappeared into the murky depths.

But not for long. I immediately leapt onto the hopper, only to accidentally burst a bubble. I scowl while cluelessly looking on, realizing seconds later that it was but a reflection which I had hit when the longneck—once again—copied what I did.

"Hey!" I chirped as I played around in the swampy marsh, trying to catch the blasted hopper, "This is kinda fun!"

In the back of my mind, I did mull about how I was now technically playing with the longneck, which meant that the boy would have the last laugh. I pushed the thought away, arguing against my inner thoughts by telling it that we were "hanging out", not playing.

Yeah, we're not playing! The two of us are totally hanging out!

And that was when things went horribly wrong. The ground shaking beneath my feet was my first warning, the looming shadow was my second, but before I could muse about it, the terrifying sight that befell my widening eyes was the clincher.

"Sharptooth!" I shriek, all my prior bravado dead in the muddy water as I leapt away and ran for it, the longneck following closely behind me as the vile creature went in pursuit after us, sending waves of mud splashing as its large feet crashed into murky water.

Somewhere within my mind, my brain had to gall to go, 'Shouldn't a threehorn be brave and stand her ground? Isn't that the Threehorn Way?'

As my flustered self raced out of the watery prison and into a dead forest to take cover from the terrifying beast, I distinctly recalled that this was the first time my instincts had told my mind to shut up about following Daddy's Threehorn Way.

---

"Mama! Daddy!"

"Cera!"

Oh, this cannot be happening. Come on!

I stared at the great divide in the earth that had split the land, mercilessly cutting through the solid earth. Honestly, I don't mind cracks in rocks, considering that as a threehorn, I loved cracking rocks apart and smashing them with my horn.

However, I had a very big problem with this crack. Namely, I had a problem with the fact that it separated me from my family.

Becoming a flyer to get to the other side was looking very tempting as of now.

"Cera!" My father yelled at me, his eyes turning cold. "Is there really… no way across?"

"No, Daddy! I can't possibly jump across that chasm!"

Hearing my answer, my Daddy squeezed his eyes shut. When he opened them, he looked like he had aged multiple Cold Times. "Then I'm sorry, Cera. You'll have to find some other way to get across."

Wa-Wait a moment… they were leaving me behind!?

"Wait! Daddy! Mama!" I yelped, panic seizing ahold of me. They can't leave me! They can't!

"You're a big threehorn now, remember?" my Daddy yelled across the cliff, echoing the same words that I'd told to him earlier. "A big girl, right?" he prodded, winking at Mama with a grin before turning back in my direction. Well, you're going to have to be my big girl and find your way back to Daddy! I can't help you… so it's all on you to help yourself!"

"B-But… Daddy…"

At this point, I choked up, but maintained my cool. I wasn't about to cry. It went against everything Daddy stood for… I refused.

I didn't want to admit to my Daddy that I wasn't ready.

And yet although I had not said those fears which clouded my heart aloud, my Daddy surprised me by saying words of reassurance to me, almost making me wonder if he could read my mind. "Never say you can't, Cera. The Threehorn Way, remember?"

I flashed a cocky smile despite my broken heart, unable to see if my Daddy could discern my facial features from this distance. I really hoped he couldn't.

"Yeah… the Threehorn Way…" I recited somberly, mouthing the words to myself as a harrowing affirmation that this was really happening. Daddy didn't even have to hear those words to know what I was saying, he could probably read my lips and figure it out.

The remainder of my family then leaned out as far as they could and threw me some final words of support.

"Good luck, sis!"

"Yeah, see you soon!"

"Mommy wishes you all the best, my dear Cera! I'll pray to the stars above for your success!"

"Cera. You're my big girl now, and I know you'll prove it by standing against the world on your own two feet! I assure you, we'll see each other again soon…"

And then, just like that… they were gone. My Daddy, my Mama, my siblings… all of them just left, leaving me to stare vacantly at a blank cliff face.

I wasn't sure how long I stood there, staring at where they had once been. When I squeezed my eyes shut, I was actually able to imagine their figures still being there. Eventually, I sniff, letting the first tears trail down my face as my fiery façade broke down.

Despite everything that I'd told myself… I hated being alone. As much as I'd wanted to be better than them to the point where I'd pick play fights with my sisters, as much as I told Daddy and Mama that I was a big girl, I never wanted them to leave me to fend for myself.

Perhaps I wasn't as independent as I thought…

"You must remember to always be strong and unrelenting, Cera. Threehorns like us must never give up. We shall not falter… even in the face of defeat, we must never surrender without giving it our all!"

…no.

I grunted, straightening myself up as my Mama's words echoed throughout my mind. A smug smirk managed to find its way to my mouth.

I could do this. I was a threehorn. And not just any threehorn, but the very best that there was.

Perhaps this was life's way of throwing me a challenge. And if it was, then who was I to decline the opportunity to throw down the gauntlet?

"Cera!"

I hastily flinched upon hearing the cry, flicking away any last traces of tears from my reddened eyes. Turning towards the source of the voice, I saw him again.

The longneck.

I didn't want to admit it, but he had been the braver of the two of us when we were being chased down by Sharptooth. Of course, I chose to keep my innermost thoughts to myself, as that was something that I would never ever admit.

After all, threehorns were supposed to be the best. It was the Threehorn Way, hm?

"Cera, hello!" he greeted, the same stupid optimistic smile plastered on his face as though he and I hadn't been running for our lives earlier. It made me sick just looking at his cheerful demeanor.

As a result, I didn't even bother with pleasantries. "What do you want?" I demanded with a forceful tone.

"Heh heh! Nothing!" he tried to deflect the question, not-so-subtly asking another one to change the topic. "Where are you going?"

Turning away from him, I quickly made up an excuse. My father's final words to me rang in my ears, giving me just the words I needed to turn him down. "I'm going to find my own kind. They're on the other side." Wasn't technically a lie, too.

"I've looked all over here. You can't climb up the other side."

Man, he was stupid. Didn't he realize that I'd managed to figure that much out as well? I mean, I'm no flyer! Of course I couldn't get there or I wouldn't even be listening to his nonsense right now!

"Maybe you can't…" I proceed to tell him off, taking a step into the rocky slope that led to down the canyon below. It was a risky gambit, but at this point, it beat staying with this guy and having to listen to the idealistic nonsense that he spewed from his mouth.

Seriously, his corny speech made me want to physically throw up.

"Wait! I'm going to the Great Valley! We could—"

"Ahhhh!" I shrieked, losing my footing. Before I could slip further, I stomp upon the sloped ground, managing to gain enough traction to stop my fall. Shaking my head in disbelief of the events that'd just transpired, I glared daggers at him in response.

Da-damn that flathead! It was his fault that I slipped on the rocky terrain beneath my feet! He distracted me, that pest!

"…help each other?" he resumed his offer when he was certain that I had recovered from my mistake.

But by that point, I'd firmly made up my mind, deciding that I've had more than enough of him for the rest of my lifetime. I made a vow to myself that I was going to find my family without his help, and I made sure that he knew it.

"Hmph!" I scoffed indignantly, "A threehorn does not need help from a longneck!" To make sure he got the message, I kicked my hind legs at him to throw dirt into his face, only realizing my mistake far too late when I lost my footing and slid all the way to the bottom of the canyon with a shrill cry.

"Well… at least we wouldn't be alone!" he tried to encourage as I got to my feet, looking down at my form from the cliff above.

…he really was persistent, wasn't he? Seriously, if he wasn't such a longneck, he might have actually made a good threehorn.

I cringe at the thought, shaking my head to expel the mental image from my head. That longneck as a threehorn… no.

Just. No.

It was a terrifying idea. Worse than that Sharptooth who'd chased me.

Okay, maybe not. But the image I'd conjured up was still up there on my personal list of the very few things that scared me.

I looked up, if only to reassure myself that, "Hey, genius. He's a longneck, Cera! The day that flathead becomes a threehorn is the day you wake up as a dumb, weak flyer." As I looked up at him, I slowly came to the realization that he was still peering down at me, tilting his head curiously as though he was awaiting something.

Wait… was he actually waiting for my reply?

I growled under my raspy breath. Oh, I'd give him my reply, alright.

"When I find my sisters, I won't be alone! So… go away." I strutted off into a cavern formed by the Earthshake, leaving the longneck above me gaping as I gave him the cold shoulder.

Out of sight, out of mind. Hmph, good riddance!

That longneck could go find someone else to be friends with, because I most certainly didn't need his help to find my family. He can take his dumb "Great Valley" and preach it to a gullible group of morons, but I was not about to be suckered in by his sweet, deceptive words!

With a nervous chuckle, I reaffirm to myself that I had made the right choice, fighting down a tinge of fear within me. Threehorns like me don't get scared, and they certainly didn't need help from anyone… least of all some crummy longneck!

After all, as Daddy would say if he was walking right beside me… it was the Threehorn Way.

---

Author's Note:

I'm sorry that I'd lagged so behind on this piece! I'd to undergo wisdom tooth surgery twice in January, which really messed with my plans and schedule for the month. The unusual style I used for this work was also a reason as to its tardiness — I kept on feeling as though it wasn't as good as my usual output, and thus it remained in edit purgatory for a very long time until the deadline loomed upon the horizon.

You might have noticed that I've broken from the norm and used first-person POV for this story. Part of the reason is because there's a really prolific fanfic author in my other main writing fandom who writes primarily in 1st person, so I felt inspired to experiment with this style after reading his work… but I'll admit that the main reason I wrote this way is because I really wanted to delve into Cera's thoughts. Tee hee!

And yeah, to be honest, because I split it up into multiple parts, I don't think that I really hit the prompt on the nail with this singular chapter, despite focusing on Cera rebelling against her situation with her ideals. You might have to judge the story as a completed piece before the way I opted to approach the prompt really makes sense.

Still, if the prose seems a little off, don't hesitate to let me know! In the end, I'll admit that I'm still a relative newbie with this writing style, so any constructive critique is certainly welcome.

---

Whew! There should only be two chapters left, but I might focus on my ongoing LBT story first before returning to this. Hope Cera sounds Cera-y enough.

Waves Crashing Upon the Sky

Hi, y'all! It's probably quite clear by now that I enjoy writing for Land Before Time, but this is the first time I'm going for a WIP multi-chaptered story, something which I've wanted to do from the start. Yep, one of those stories! Wish me luck, guys! As always, words in italics indicate character thoughts or flashbacks.

FFN Link: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13096361/1/Waves-Crashing-Upon-the-Sky

---

Chapter 1: To Tempt a Flyer

Time.

Just what was time?

One could ask any dinosaur that question, and the individual would say that for them, time was something that constantly passed on by like flowing water — something that brought meaning to their life by introducing change with every passing day. After all, the only situation where the passage of time didn't make a difference to a dinosaur was when they had already been lost to the streams of time themselves, having passed on to the Great Beyond, a place where time was infinite and held no meaning.

But to the mortals who still roamed this earth, time was something which they cherished, for its constant motion guaranteed another day where they could live out their lives. In an unpredictable world where one could easily lose their life to predators, hunger, and other ailments, every rise of the Bright Circle was treasured, for it brought forth the promise of a new day… and new experiences.

Although the primitive dinosaurs were unable to measure time in absolute units, time itself was a concept that they were able to grasp. To them, it was something that simply continually passed on by for them like a flowing river. Unable to measure time precisely, however, led to it being relative to their experiences.

All one had to do was ask any poor leaf-eater who had managed to survive being chased by a sharptooth about their terrifying ordeal, and they would undoubtedly tell you that even the briefest of moments during the chase felt to them as though their sprint to escape the predator's pursuit had spanned the entire length of time that it took for the Bright Circle to cross across half the sky.

So if the relativity of time was debatable for even small periods, how would one then define a span of time which stretched over multiple cold times? Perhaps to an elderly dinosaur who was well past their prime, five Cold Times would pass on by in the blink of an eye.

But to someone who was in the prime of their life, like a certain flyer who had perched himself on the branch of a tree that had shriveled up, five Cold Times felt like an absolute eternity.

---

"Five Cold Times… oh, woe is me! Five entire Cold Times! It's a complete travesty, I say!"

Many of the nearby flyers ignored the habitual laments of the large brown flyer. They continued to grumble amidst themselves as their ears continued to hear the flyer complaining about his current status. Just about every single member in the flock considered him to be a nutcase — a flyer who had spent too much time flying with his head in the clouds.

"A banishment of five Cold Times, but alas, until now only a mere two and a half of those five has passed. To think that I still have an entire half of that punishment to fulfill… it's truly a depressing thought!" He let his head crest droop before glancing up towards the morning sky in resignation. Wait… was it really a feeling of resignation? Or perhaps, was it one of resentment?

There were certain days where the flyer woke up and found that he was unsure of the answer himself.

"Gragh! I simply cannot stand this torment any longer!" he snapped as he repeatedly stomping his foot against the branch he was standing on, rustling it so vigorously that if the tree hadn't been devoid of tree stars, they would have all fallen off from the shaking. "Even after I've been forced to accept that I would have to wait it out, the end of that banishment is so far away!" he bemoaned, either unable to notice or deliberately choosing to ignore the other flyers rolling their eyes in unison at his antics.

"I've seen the Bright Circle rise and fall so many times… oh, so many times! And yet, the end of this sentence taunts me by being so far out of my grasp!" He let out a wistful sigh, finally calming himself enough for the tree branch to stabilize and return to a state of stillness. "Please, Mr. Threehorn… can't you have just the tiniest shred of mercy on an old flyer like me and absolve me of my exile?"

Eventually though, the flyer brought his dramatic whining to a stop. Honestly, he'd already known deep down that his question was rhetorical — Topps couldn't hear him, and the threehorn wouldn't accede to his request even if he somehow did manage to hear those words.

But what could he do about that, really? Honestly… nothing. There was nary a thing that the flyer could do at the moment to change his current situation. His banishment from the Great Valley had been a unanimous decision made by the various dinosaurs who had gathered around the Rock Circle to discuss his punishment for his crimes two cold times ago.

"Oh now, please…" he had begged, clasping the fingers on the end of his wingtips together as he pleaded to the many angry adults all surrounding him. "None of the farwalkers want anything to do with me. I'll be alone and defenseless in the Mysterious Beyond!" He wrapped one of his wings around his chest, trying to garner as much sympathy as he possibly could from the dinosaurs around him after his ploy had backfired back on him in a spectacular fashion. "Is that really fair?"

"Yes!" the Great Valley residents surrounding the flyer cried out in unison, causing him to flinch back from their combined voices. After the resounding echoes from the combined yell had died down, Topps proceeded to spit an addendum in response as the threehorn stormed forward, closing in on the flyer who had just shakily recovered from falling to the ground at the combined yells.

"Mark my words. If I'd had it my way, this banishment would have been a lot longer for you, Pterano!"

The gray threehorn shot a nasty glower towards the two large longnecks by his side, making it clear to everyone who was paying attention just who had been the ones who'd forced the stubborn Topps to tone the flyer's punishment down. "It's either you take the five Cold Times, or I swear that you're going to be seeing my horns fill your entire vision!" he growled as he took a step forward, a serious expression donning the dinosaur's face. "So you better hurry and take your pick before I get impatient and make the decision on your behalf, flyer!"

And that was that. After Topps had lashed out at him, Pterano had left the Great Valley with his pride and dignity in shambles, but at least with all of his bones intact.

Not even his very own sister had been able to save him from the valley's retribution when news of his treachery hit the leaders after his coup fell apart. While Skylar had shot her brother a pity-filled glance from her vantage point, that was all the sapphire blue flyer had been able to give to him — mere visual support.

She wasn't going to stand up for his actions.

Although frankly, Pterano didn't blame her for it, the flyer quite certain that his sister would have been unable to overturn the verdict even if she had. And thus he'd haughtily flown away from the Great Valley, only sparing a final fleeting glance towards the family that he'd been forced to leave behind before he began his new life.

Ironically, he'd been wrong with his own prediction in the end. Despite his fears of having nobody to pay him company in the Mysterious Beyond when the valley had banished him, Pterano had been resourceful and actively scoped out others to be with. As a result, he'd managed to join flocks of migrating flyers from time to time, at least until they eventually split up.

Although, there would be one constant which would invariably remain no matter which herd Pterano found himself being a part of — his assertive personality tended to drive most of the herd members absolutely bonkers. This had consistently persisted until he eventually learnt to keep his beak shut the hard way, opting to remain quiet and choosing not to speak up as a defense mechanism so that he could still find himself being accepted by the flyer pack. After all, the alternative of flying alone through the Mysterious Beyond for five whole Cold Times without any company was something far worse to Pterano than being unable to fully utilize his leadership skills.

"Hmph! Why complain about a situation that you cannot avert? Instead of whining about it, why not actively take the initiative to change your fate for the better?"

Pterano perked up, glancing around the area curiously when he realized that one of the flatbeak flyers was actually speaking to him directly, instead of muttering complaints behind his back — something which was quite a rarity these days.

He soon caught his culprit when he saw the flyer in question tapping his talons in an impatient manner below him. The speaker was a flyer of an unusual coloration — a dirty, bleached yellow that made him look like the same coloration of the damp sand that tended to be situated near the Big Water. The flyer appeared relatively young, looking to be about three to four Cold Times older than his nephews and nieces, appearing as though he was on the cusp of adolescence.

Still, Pterano couldn't help but gulp as he caught sight of the smaller flyer's menacing golden irises gleaming under the Bright Circle. "Say, I don't think I know you…" he muttered as he put one of his wingtip fingers up to his chin, rubbing his beak as he looked down at the newcomer with suspicious eyes.

An amused smirk crossed the youngling's face. "Well, of courseeee…" he drawled sarcastically, "I mean, this is the first time we've met!"

Pterano didn't let his guard down at the flyer's attempt to lighten the mood, making sure to keep his vision locked firmly on the newcomer instead. "…and yet, somehow it appears that you knew of me beforehand," he rightfully pointed out.

"Hahaha! Of course I do!" The pterosaur's relatively high-pitched voice gave him an aura of childishness as compared to that of an adult flyer, causing Pterano to shake his head imperceptibly with a sigh. Having dismissed him as a threat and being thankful that this wasn't going to end up being another Rinkus and Sierra situation, Pterano was just about to shoo the little flyer away when the yellow youngling suddenly continued. His voice lowered by about two octaves, which had the effect of giving him a sinister tone as he spoke.

"It might have been a bit of a pain to dig up the details, but fortuitously I now know everything about the overzealous flyer who vowed to find the legendary Stone of Cold Fire…"

The larger flyer's eyes went wide, those words physically hurting him. He puffed up his chest, immediately letting out an angered yell at the smaller flyer. "How dare you! Just who exactly do you think you are? Don't even try to talk to me about that wretched stone!"

After exhaling an angered huff, Pterano wasted no time in his retaliation and flew down to the ground, waving his wings dangerously in the same motion as he whirled onto the smaller flyer. "Not only did that lousy excuse of a 'stone' take everything from me, but to add insult to injury, the whole venture had been all for naught from the very start! It's gotten me nothing! Nothing except for a worthless dud that wound up being blown to miniature pieces, and a banishment of five Cold Times at the end of everything! Oh, the tragedy!"

"Exactly. I completely agree with your sentiment there."

Pterano whirled his head around as the flyer said that. Of every retort that he had expected to hear in return, a concessionary statement hadn't been one of them. Yet, in spite of his concurring words, the sarcastic tone and hidden anger in the flyer's voice alone was enough to catch Pterano's attention.

"But enough of chasing down worthless legends, eh?" the flyer murmured, "How about a legend which I for one know isn't simply mere folktale told underneath the Great Night Circle for the sake of telling a story that only hatchlings would buy?"

He seethed with anger at the eccentric flyer's words. "How about you get away from my sight before I get really angry!" Pterano recognized the style of pragmatic speech that the young flyer was using — after all, he'd done the same to Rinkus and Sierra. Thus, he was very well aware on what the flyer was trying to do, and he wasn't going to have any of it.

"Oh, poor Pterano…" A lament that had a hint of mockery imbued in it accompanied a sigh as the flyer shook his head at the cold reception that he was getting from the larger Pterano. "You miss your nephew, don't you…?"

Pterano narrowed his eyes, glaring daggers at the mysterious flyer suspiciously. "How do you know about Petrie!?" He flexed his wings, questioning the flyer in a tone that practically demanded for an answer. "And why we're on the subject matter… just who are you, anyway?"

The small flyer remained unperturbed by Pterano's interrogation, instead choosing to shrug brazenly at his raised voice as he let out an amused cackle in response. "Who I am, as well as what my name is, doesn't really matter. It is an irrelevant piece of information, Pterano…" he replied in a dismissive manner before peering up and locking his golden eyes with those of the larger flyer's. "But as for your first question, I personally think the answer to that is rather rhetorical. I mean, who doesn't know the story of the five remarkable leaf-eaters who'd miraculously managed to overcome all the odds and take down Sharptooth himself?"

He carried on rattling straight from memory as the harsh light of the Great Circle high above the duo beat down unrelentingly upon the two flyers, "Who would have thought that a ragtag group of hatchlings consisting of a longneck, a threehorn, a swimmer, a flyer, and a spiketail would succeed in accomplishing the impossible? Truly, the unlikeliest of herds — one whose members managed to cross between different species…"

Pterano perked his head downwards when he noticed that the small flyer had hissed the last few words with pure venom in his voice. "Hey, be careful with that tone you've got there," he grumbled, "One of those dinosaurs is my nephew, in case you've already forgotten your own words!"

"Oh, Pterano… there's really no point in suppressing your anger and trying to act all nice, you know? I can feel the brunt of my insults getting to you." He shook his head with the trace of a hidden grin on his face when Pterano's momentary glare proved him right. "Or perhaps it's the anger of your unrighteous punishment that still seethes within you. Don't you want payback on the pesky ground dwellers who'd wronged you and your quest for your paradise?"

Pterano remained silent, causing the flyer to let out a brutal laugh before tilting his head up to Pterano with a gleam in his eyes. "There is a way for you to circumvent your banishment, you know?"

He perked up at the perky newcomer's bold statement. "What did you just say? D-Do you… really mean that?" Pterano asked hesitantly, a slight tinge of disbelief creeping into his normally bold voice, afraid that if he got his hopes up too high, it would only hurt more when they ended up being shattered into pieces once again.

"Heh! You doubt me? Well, to be fair, you wouldn't be the first one…" he shrugged before clarifying. "What I speak of is a legend spoken of only under the stars. Yes, a legendary stone—"

"Why, you little… are you trying to mess with me!?" Pterano hollered, forcing the smaller flyer to indignantly hold out his wings as a countermeasure.

"Wait, wait, wait!" The yellow flyer flailed his wings, gesturing towards a rather irate Pterano to calm him down. "Don't jump the sky puffy just yet! I'm not talking about the Stone of Cold Fire, so calm down, sit back on your perch and listen to what I have to say!" Coughing as his voice turned hoarse from the yell, the flyer proceeded to clear his throat before continuing his speech as he started to pace up and down. "As I was saying before being rudely interrupted, said artifact is a legendary stone, one much tinier than the Stone of Cold Fire. A relatively miniscule sparkling stone, one that can even be held in your very own hand."

Pterano had an eyebrow raised at the flyer's monologue. "Say, you seem to know an awful lot about this, considering it's just a legend…" he commented bluntly, unfurling his wings at the observation. "Hold on… it's more than that, isn't it?" Pterano questioned, his body growing slightly tense as he began to feel uneasy.

A coarse laugh with a hint of pride emanated from the youngling. "Hah! To think that you caught me out so quickly. I'm rather impressed, Pterano." His eyes glistened in the sunlight as he straightened up, his voice lowering further to add to the uneasy atmosphere.

"Yes, I do indeed know more than I'm letting on," he said nonchalantly as if it was no big deal. "I have seen it with my own two useless eyes… the Shiny Stone of Great Change!"

"The Shiny Stone of Great Change?" Pterano repeated after him, tilting his head and crest at an acute angle.

He nodded once in confirmation. "Yes, indeed. Don't you see the beauty of it, Pterano? That there exists something with the power to transform one into whatever species they so desire? Amazing, isn't it?" He leaned his head back, small bursts of laughter causing his body to shake. "There are multiple of these things, in fact, and I can spare one for you. To heck with your punishment, Pterano! You can forge an entirely new identity with the shiny stone! With it, you can waltz right into the valley and they'll never know that it's actually you!"

Pterano contemplatively strummed his fingers together. "Pardon me for the interruption, but this sounds too good to be true. What's the catch?" he asked with a cautious voice.

"Well, all you simply have to do is agree to my terms and conditions, and voilà! A stone will be yours to keep. Without the valley's watchful eye, you can finally be reunited with your darling nephew—"

Pterano snarled, interrupting the proposed offer before the flyer could get a single additional word out of his beak. "You've got some nerve to ask that of me! Pray tell, are you under the impression that I'm a fool who would get himself sweet-talked into doing exactly what you want as helplessly as a treestar that's at the mercy of the whims of the wind currents?"

The flyer youngling scratched his head. "Well, uh—"

"Because if you do believe that, then allow me to inform you that you're terribly mistaken," Pterano chastised, ensuring that he maintained his calm outer composure despite his rising anger within. "How dare you use my nephew's name to drag me into whatever scheme you want me involved in? Well, you can forget about it, young'un!"

"But…" the flyer tried to plead with him, but Pterano wasn't having any of it, stretching out his entire wingspan in an intimidating manner.

"Begone already! Shoo off!"

"Feh!" The flyer glared back, rather humiliated. "Just you wait! You'll regret this, Pterano…"

"Yeah, yeah." Pterano mumbled back as the young flyer took flight and left his perch. "Good riddance to you, young pest."

When the flyer was no longer in his sight, he let out a heaved sigh of relief. Pterano was remiss to admit that there had been a small part of him, deep down in his heart, that had been tempted by the flyer's offer to cut his punishment short.

"Petrie, your mother's right," Pterano had said, turning to his small nephew to stop the distraught flyer from objecting further to his punishment on his uncle's behalf. He refused to let Petrie get dragged into something that was his own fault. "We must all be accountable for our actions, much like how the valley is holding me accountable for mine right now."

Petrie's beak quivered as he heard those words. "Me will miss you, uncle…" he admitted softly, using a wing to wipe away stray tears.

"Do not fret, Petrie. I promise you that I'll be fine. And when five Cold Times have passed, I shall return to the herd and prove that I can truly be a trustworthy flyer who can lead other dinosaurs," he reassured his nephew with a jovial smile despite his impending punishment. "I just know that there is much that I can contribute to the valley herds if given the chance. But I'm afraid that that chance will have to wait." Pterano leaned down and wrapped his wings around Petrie, hugging his sniveling nephew to console him for one final time.

"U-Uncle Pterano…" Petrie looked up, blinking away stray tears from his eyes as he looked up at his uncle. "Me guess… this is goodbye…"

That simple gaze alone spoke volumes to Pterano. The longing in Petrie's brown eyes made it clear that the young flyer knew that this would be the last time that he would ever lay his eyes on his uncle for a long, long time. Pterano subsequently tightened his grip on Petrie, whispering one final, fond farewell to his nephew.

"Oh, dear Petrie… I will miss you too…"

As he recalled the loving embrace which he had shared with his young nephew two Cold Times ago, Pterano knew right there and then that he'd made the right choice in refusing the flyer. He knew that despite everything that the flyer offered, Petrie would be devastated if his uncle had resorted to his old ways just for a shot to reunite with him before his banishment was over. It would defeat the whole purpose of his punishment, and his well-mannered nephew almost certainly wouldn't accept a reunion in such a manner, despite how much he wanted to see his uncle. He imagined that Petrie would be distraught if he ever realized that his uncle had pulled a stunt like this out of pure selfishness.

Pterano was so wrapped up in his relief that he didn't see the flyer from earlier eyeing him from above with a rather nasty snarl, quite unhappy by the rejection that he'd been handed.

---

Look at that Pterano, looking so overjoyed at stomping over my kind proposal. Hmph! Who needs him, the flyer thought.

It was regrettable, but only a minor hindrance to his plans at worst. He would just amend his plans a little by tinkering around with a few minute details. Besides, Pterano would come crawling back to him sooner or later anyway.

But as of right now, he didn't require the services of a flyer like Pterano. He already had more than enough allies under his wing. In addition, he didn't actually need to recruit the flyer for a cause that he knew was basically nothing but a wild goose chase.

And why was that? The answer was elementary, of course — because he had been the one who had engineered said wild goose chase in the first place, rather much like the conversation which he had expertly engineered by redirecting the questions until they'd arrived at the question that he wanted.

Sure, redirecting the flow of a conversation sounded like it would be the specialty of a swimmer, given that the species could generate small currents and waves as they paddled about in the water. But who was to say that flyers, with their flapping wings causing mild eddies in the winds, couldn't redirect the flow of a conversation as well?

As a matter of fact, it was well known that flyers were the masters of spreading messages rapidly and widely. If there was any juicy rumor or gossip somewhere out there in the Mysterious Beyond, chances were that the various flyers were the reason that the news had ended up spreading like wildfire across migratory herds.

Yes, very much like the chain reaction that he'd most deliberately started up. He grinned as he glanced towards the ground to see the flyers down below still chatting engrossingly about his prior conversation with Pterano.

"Pssst…" A flyer hissed to another flyer next to him. "Did you hear those two fliers talking? From what I could hear, this random flyer said that there's actually a way to change between species!"

"Hah!" the second flyer laughed. "I'm calling spiketail dirt on that one! That sounds like hogwash that some yellowbelly made up!" he snorted.

"B-but…" The voice lowered to a whisper, one that forced him to crane his neck downwards to hear, "what if it's true?"

"Get real, ya nitwit! Only hatchlings would believe in dumb rubbish like this! This whole thing's utter nonsense, and you know it! The flyer that Pterano's talking to is even crazier than he is!"

"Hmhmhmhmhm!" The flyer chortled to himself, a harsh grating quality embedded into the cruel laugh. "I'm afraid that my plan will come to fruition… with or without you. Of course, I would prefer if you of all dinosaurs witness the end, but whatever. I have my ways of securing your help…" he mused as he shot a final passing glance toward Pterano before flying away and leaving him in the dust.

"But you will pay rather dearly for disrespecting me, and I'll be sure to return the favor… by using your precious little nephew."

He veered to the left, squinting his eyes as he tried to look out for the valley. Unlike most other flyers, he was unable to use the flash of vibrant green from the lush vegetation of the valley as a visual cue to the valley's location. Hence, he instead looked out for the telltale sharp peaks of the mountains that surrounded the Great Valley.

The same valley which housed those leaf-eater kids, that special herd of seven.

Those damned kids.

Truth be told, he himself hadn't believed the stories when the initial rumors of them had first spread across the Mysterious Beyond five cold times ago. It didn't help that the stories were mostly butchered retellings that had told him virtually nothing of use.

But then again, the same could be said of the species-changing stone… the very same one which he now possessed a multitude of.

"'It's only a myth, you fool,'… that was what all those naysayers had said right to my face. Ahahaha! Well, who's laughing now? Who's laughing now, you imbeciles!?"

Laughing at the absurdity of it all helped to pass the time. Before he even knew it, he was already at his destination.

The Great Valley.

Once he was within the vicinity of the valley, the flyer made haste in scoping out his targets. An easy task when all he had to do was look out for a group of children with varying species. He'd spotted them very quickly and proceeded to hide himself by perching on a branch poking out of the rock cliff, making himself comfortable as he eavesdropped from above.

A small issue did bother the flyer though. Although the tales that he'd heard spoke of seven children, he could only spot five of them at the moment. Nevertheless, he simply shrugged the discrepancy off for now… since the two which he did want to focus on were there.

"Petrie! It looks like you are going to be 'it' for our game of hide-and-seek today! You are, you are!"

The flyer had to admit that he cocked his head when that unusual style of speech was the first sentence that his ears was able to discern from the group. It was frankly amusing how quickly the tones of conversation had shifted. Even with young kids and their relative innocence, you'd be hard pressed to hear a carefree sentence like that in the Mysterious Beyond.

The whole tone of the sentence reeked of innocence. Perhaps it was fitting that it was the small swimmer who'd said those words.

"Wh-what? You want me be seeker!?"

The yellow flyer raised an eyebrow when he heard a second dissenting opinion from the group. "Really?" the longneck asked the swimmer, "You want Petrie to be the seeker? Um, I don't really know about that…"

From his vantage point, he was able to observe that the longneck's body language had changed ever so slightly from the swimmer's proposal, made even more obvious by his own apprehensive comments. The longneck's legs appeared more rigid, making the dinosaur appear rather tensed up. A smirk crossed the flyer. That longneck's nervous, he deduced.

And sure enough, he was right. The longneck proceeded to add on to his question with a worried remark. "You know, Petrie is very good at being 'it'," the longneck observed, shifting his neck towards a small flyer, "He's a flyer, he naturally has an advantage. Maybe we should have someone else be the seeker instead."

"Me already know me have advantage in hide-and-seek, but me certainly like that!" The flyer—Pterano's nephew—called out to the longneck with a voice that had a hint of mischievousness in it. "After all, it make game fun for me!"

"Fun for you, but what about us?"

The flyer watched in silence as the longneck and flyer bantered back-and-forth, subtly filing away the young Petrie's name. He hadn't actually believed Pterano when the flyer had unintentionally blurted out his nephew's name earlier, but to hear another dinosaur refer to him as Petrie pretty much confirmed that it was indeed the name of Pterano's nephew.

"Hah! Bring it on!" An arrogant taunt caused him to shift his gaze onto a snobby threehorn. "I bet you can't find my hiding place before time's up, Petrie!"

"But, Cera…" the swimmer whined in Petrie's defense, "Petrie is very good at being finding others when it comes to hide-and-seek. You should know that. You should, you should."

At those words, the threehorn promptly scowled down at the small swimmer from earlier. "Yarghhhhh! Come on, whose side are you on, Ducky!? I don't care if he's good, Petrie can't possibly beat me!" she boasted with a confident smirk.

The hidden flyer felt his beak rising in vicious glee upon hearing the threehorn's remark. With that, he now knew that the swimmer went by Ducky. Now this was certainly useful knowledge to have.

So… Ducky and Petrie, eh? Nice to know. Very nice to know indeed…

He held his head high as he let out a vicious cackle, armed with the knowledge that he now had. From what he could gather from their interactions, Ducky was the swimmer and Petrie was the flyer. Amazingly, with the exception of Petrie, that was the first time he'd managed to get a name of any of them — all the tales that he'd heard omitted the identities of the dinosaurs who were part of the fabled group.

Just as he was about to gloat inwardly at his victory, the flyer suddenly felt threatened, a sense of foreboding rising up within him out of instinct. The feeling felt almost as though someone was strangling him by the scruff of his neck.

Straining his neck as he leaned forward, the flyer roamed his eyes around before noticing why he felt that way. His beak fell open in surprise when he spotted that one of the five who he'd painstakingly scoped out had unfortunately also managed to spot the sinister flyer perched on the top of the rock wall above.

"Uummfhhh!"

A growl left his beak as the spiketail let out a warning bellow to warn the others of the uncanny flyer spying on them from above. That observant little pest was going to ruin everything!

But fortunately for him, the flyer quickly realized that it was the least problematic of the five who had managed to notice his presence. As a result, he simply watched from above as the spiketail on the ground kept on futilely gesturing his neck up towards him.

"Found you! Yep, yep, yep!"

There was an audible giggle from the tiny swimmer below as she struggled to hold in her laughter after tagging the spiketail. "Hee hee hee! You should not have given away your position like that, silly! Nope, nope, nope! And to think that I am not even the seeker!" she shook her head, amused by the whole affair. "You have got to be more careful than this, Spike. If I was Petrie, you would have been done for. You would, you would!"

Two narrowed golden eyes focused on the small swimmer below wagging her finger in a lecturing-like motion to tease the spiketail. It appeared that luck was on his side. "Stupid spiketail…" he muttered as the spiketail continually grunted up in his general direction, despite getting himself caught out from his hiding place by doing just that. It seemed that the game had escaped the spiketail's focus in his single-minded pursuit of revealing the mysterious flyer that he'd spotted.

That said, the flyer perceived that he was beginning to cut it close. He was very fortunate that the spiketail was unable to vocalize his thoughts, but to wish for a miracle twice was unfeasible.

He knew that more than anyone.

Yes, now was certainly the time for him to go. He definitely wasn't going to throw everything that he'd worked for away in one fell swoop by getting himself caught at this critical juncture. Not when the spoils for his grand scheme were finally beginning to bear tree sweets.

His glorious dream was so close to becoming a reality. So very tantalizingly close.

"You should be honored, dear Ducky and Petrie…" the flyer triumphantly said, his eyes never leaving his two targets even as he ceased his reconnaissance mission and soared back up into the sky.

"…for the both of you are the chosen harbingers of my new Mysterious Beyond! Heheheheheh!"

As he left the jutting peaks of the Great Valley behind him, the yellow flyer only gave one final ominous warning for things to come, his voice turning deep as his sinister words echoed faintly across the dry Warm Time wind.

"The specter of death looms upon us all…"

---

Author's Note:

First off, a happy early 30th anniversary to The Land Before Time! This would be going up exactly one month before the original film turns thirty years old!

Now I've certainly said this before, but I used to—and still do—lurk the Land Before Time fanfiction archive. A lot. From there, I'd observed that there are two fandom-specific plots that are quite popular and thus have been written quite a few times in various different stories.

First is the "lone human winds up in the LBT world" concept, made popular by The Land Before Time Retold series (it's at least the most famous/popular one anyway) — with the trope being extremely popular a few years ago, even though these stories seemed to have tapered off recently.

Next is the "Gang turn into Sharpteeth" dark fics, best exemplified by The Seven Hunters and its sequels. These have certainly become quite the popular trend to write, with quite a few stories following behind its footsteps (at least the darker undertones part) for these past couple of years.

Despite those two fan-favorite plots seemingly being very different, I'd noticed that they primarily share one thing in common — an unusual out-of-this-world, earth-shattering experience from someone's point of view. Which now leads me to my point — I don't think I've actually read a LBT transformation-based story that isn't about a human turning to a dinosaur, or a flattooth (*cough* usually our beloved Gang *cough*) turning into a sharptooth.

At least, that was until the Gang of Five forum recently started up a roleplay with this exact same concept. Um, oops? Well, I'd already drafted up this story when they chose to start it up, so I can't really throw all my work into the garbage, now can I? But with the exception of that, species transformation is quite a wealth of untapped potential, so I shall try my utmost best to make this story a success.

Anyway, I better address this at the start and quickly get it out of the way — this story will eventually be a Ducky/Petrie fic, as the swimmer and flyer duo is my personal pet LBT pairing (feel free to judge me ), and there really aren't a lot of stories featuring said pairing. That being said, please don't let it turn you off the story if you aren't a fan, as I'll be going for something different instead of the usual fluff that this pairing would normally imply due to the nature of this story.

And yes, I know I did say that the fic will try to break the mold and be different from others… yet a magical artifact much like the Stone of Cold Fire appears to be the catalyst of the whole premise yet again. Yeah, bite me. I need a crutch for this to work, so allow me this one leeway, alright?

I'll be interested to hear your thoughts in the reviews, but until then, once again, here's wishing an early happy thirty years to The Land Before Time!

---

Yep, yep! As I'd said in my FFN story A/N, by sheer coincidence the sudden change of species roleplay had started up right as I'd finished up the main outline for this story. I suspect that it'll meander off in a completely different direction regardless.

Yeah, that's all, I suppose. Can't really say much about this prologue chapter.

August 2018 Fanfic prompt entry.
16,000 words. 16K flipping words. Can ya blame me for taking a small break from writing Land Before Time after this?

FFN Link: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13066212/1/Five-Stages-of-Grief

Description: Denial. Anger. Bargaining. Depression. Acceptance. Those were the feelings that young Ducky felt at the prospect of having to bid farewell to her adoptive brother. AU of The Big Freeze where Spike actively decides to join the spiketail herd instead of Ducky making the choice for him.

---

Words in italics indicate character thoughts, introspective narration, or flashbacks.

As I've said in my previous month's entry, trying out a fanfiction prompt challenge is new territory for me. In fact, this story actually predates Scrambled Eggs since I had started writing it even before starting up last month's entry. So if you want to be specific, this is technically my first foray into the GOF Fanfic Challenge.

The key factor for me joining in for this was actually the prompt itself. Hoo boy, the instant I laid my eyes on this prompt, I already knew in my heart that this was going to be a good one and hence would be a completely wasted opportunity if I didn't write for it.

Anyway, I'm going to go out on a limb and predict ahead of time that this specific topic will be a very popular prompt to write for. So without further ado, the Gang of Five forum's fanfiction prompt challenge for the month of August 2018 is: "Goodbyes are never easy. Write a story about a parting."

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Five Stages of Grief

Just how does one cope with a tragedy? When an individual is hit with an event which rocks their world, how would they react? Surprisingly, there is a framework which predicts exactly just that — the Kübler-Ross model, more colloquially known as the Five Stages of Grief.

The model predicts that there are five stages of grief that an individual often goes through as they face the trials and tribulations that come with what they perceive to be a disastrous event. These five stages are denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and finally… acceptance.

---

Stage 1: Denial

Denial of a tragedy at hand is a natural coping mechanism for many. If a person chooses not to believe the catastrophic events that had just taken place and would rather live in their own preferable reality… could you really blame them?

…

Pure unadulterated shock. That perfectly encapsulated the essence of what the young swimmer was currently feeling after today.

It all seemed so surreal. Nothing made any sense to Ducky. Perhaps if she'd had some sort of advance warning, then maybe she would have been able to better prepare herself.

But alas, Ducky had no such luck. The swimmer hadn't seen it coming in the slightest. After all, how was she supposed to know or remotely foresee that an innocuous statement would end up leading to complete and utter catastrophe? That was the equivalent of swimming down a river and suddenly ending up at a waterfall after rounding the next corner.

"The spiketails leaving the Great Valley!"

That was what Petrie had announced to Ducky as he shook her awake. Mere seconds later, the poor flyer pretty much had to squirm out of Ducky's vice-like grip, one that was debatably stronger than that of a sharptooth's closed jaw.

Ducky was an easy dinosaur for others to read. The hadrosaur didn't make it a secret that she had personal issues with the spiketail herd. Her irritated huffs and agitated behavior while around them made that obvious to even the most unobservant hatchling.

It had all started when a group of spiketails came to the Great Valley. That in itself would normally not cause any problems, but the herd's arrival had opened up a rift between her and her adoptive brother, Spike, who began to hang out more with his own species, even to the point where he began to neglect his former friends.

Well, two could play at that game. From that point on, Ducky and her friends began to act as though everything was alright. Like the good ol' status quo that they used to have before the spiketails had arrived was still intact. Even as Spike spent more and more of his time being around a young spiketail named Tippy, the gang chose to keep quiet and not force him back into their games.

But none was more adamant about this issue than Ducky. She flat-out ignored Spike, pretending that the issue didn't exist by dancing around it the exact same way she would swim around oncoming water greens while diving into the fast water.

More than once she had found herself wishing that Tippy and the other spiketails would leave and things would be back to normal. But little did Ducky suspect that she was going to get her wish in a most unexpected way. Her joy and subsequent "yep, yep, yep!" upon hearing Petrie's statement turned into complete and utter horror a few moments later.

It was an argument brought forth by Cera's father—by now the argument part was no surprise, at least—that had ultimately instigated and led to the grand climax of disaster.

"But if he's so smart, then why didn't he know that the white ground sparkles brought such cold with them that it killed all the food! Why didn't he warn us to store away some treestars until warmer weather?" The gray threehorn glared with annoyed eyes at his target. "I thought everybody said that he's been everywhere, knows everything? Quite frankly, I'm rather disappointed with this blowhard considering his title."

In retrospect, it was obvious that Topps would target down the resident teacher of the valley, the dinosaur who had forecast that there was nothing to be worried about regarding the Cold Time, and was now being proven very wrong. But that argument was inconsequential to Ducky. What no one else was able to foresee however, was the second disaster that the incorrect prediction of the Cold Time brought with it…

The departure of the spiketails.

Tippy's mother had said the previous day that the herd was contemplating staying due to the Great Valley having a consistent supply of green food, but what no one had counted on was the weather turning for the worse and burying the valley's food supply under three feet of white ground sparkles. Hence, her opinion was overruled by the spiketail herd's leader after Topps had unintentionally announced out loud to all of them in his spat that every last treestar was gone after the previous night's cold spell. Even his reassurance to the spiketails, a complete one-eighty personality shift after his previous thorough scolding of the hapless valley teacher, did nothing to change their mind.

Ducky should have been jumping for joy at the turn of events. But instead, fate chose to be a cruel mistress. Thus, the swimmer soon found herself at a front row seat to an impending disaster.

"We'll be fine. We are wanderers, after all. I suppose that we all just have to accept that the lush greens of the Great Valley was nice while it lasted…"

A forlorn expression on Spike's face as Tippy's mother announced their departure was what changed everything. What was supposed to be a simple goodbye to the migratory spiketail herd became so, so much more.

Tippy's mother observed that longing look and decided to take a chance. She treaded carefully as she turned her head to gaze at the young Spike, who was playing with her son in the soft snow.

Ducky only found out the meaning of the phrase "be careful what you wish for" as she observed the scene, her heart skipping a beat as she saw the spiketail's slight movement.

"I don't quite know how to ask this of you… but would he…" Even though the spiketail trailed off, courteous and polite enough to be unwilling to finish the question, the unspoken words that were implied was very clear.

"But would he be willing to come along with Tippy and I?"

Ducky's jaw dropped as her mind mentally completed the question that Tippy's mother had posed to her own mother. Her heart filled with dread, not helped by the fact that the cold weather around her suddenly seemed so much colder. She quickly whirled towards her mother, her feet making a rough imprint on the snow as she spun around. The young swimmer then placed one of her hands by the throat to show a cutthroat signal in an effort to try and get her mother to drop the topic as abruptly as possible, manners be darned.

Unfortunately, the larger swimmer was rather distracted by her own personal thoughts and hence missed her daughter's implicit wishes. Ducky's mother, put on the spot by Tippy's mother, found herself at a loss for words. "Well, I… uh, I'm sure he wouldn't," she stumbled on her words as she answered on the mute Spike's behalf. "I mean, we're his family…" The last word was emphasized as the swimmer elongated it while twiddling her forethumbs.

And despite all that, she all but stopped her sentence when she saw Tippy and Spike licking each other with merry faces of joy on their faces. Finally, as Tippy's mother looked at her expectantly, the larger swimmer relented and drooped her head with a sigh. "I'll ask him…" the swimmer conceded as she plodded through the snow to get closer to the two young spiketails who were playing together.

"Do you want to go with them, Spike?"

She leaned her head down, asking the query in an extremely calm tone considering the subject matter, although an observer might note that her slight hesitation betrayed her true feelings. Nevertheless, the swimmer took in a deep breath, resolving not to let her personal feelings get in the way as she gazed gentle eyes down towards her adopted spiketail son.

A muffled "huh?" escaped Spike's mouth as he found himself caught in a truly epic dilemma. The dark green spiketail lumbered his head back and forth between the swimmer whom he knew for close to an entire Cold Time and his new cheery friend, the first of the same species who he'd ever had.

And to compound onto that, he could spot his dear sister Ducky out of the corner of his eye, her quivering lips alone threatening to guilt him into staying.

But if he did so… he felt as though he would never have a spiketail friend again. Sure, they might always return… but then again, they might not.

Eventually the pressure got to be a little too much for him. Spike had always been the most laidback when it came down to personality, so to have this momentous decision pounced onto his back caused him to seek a momentary escape. He achieved that by looking up to the sky as he pondered about the situation and contemplated his options.

Ducky's smile began to falter, the swimmer's body language turning apprehensive when she realized that Spike wasn't giving an immediate answer and choosing to gaze up to the sky rather dreamily. But eventually, Spike did look back down to the ground, the spiketail darting his eyes between the swimmers and the other spiketails.

"Ducky and I will understand if you do."

Ducky folded her arms, holding in a breath as she rocked back and forth nervously at her mother's reassurance to the uncertain Spike. "I did not say that…" Ducky whispered in a voice so soft that no one but herself could hear her apprehensive comment.

After an uncountable number of ground sparkles hit the ground, the answer was finally given. With a sad expression on his face as he tore his gaze away from Ducky, Spike slowly nodded his head.

"You are coming with us, Spike?" Tippy grinned, the energetic spiketail bouncing around the soft snow with unbridled joy. "Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy!"

Spike! Ducky's face was wrought with horror. Why?! You would not… leave me… would you?

The swimmer stretched an arm out helplessly towards her adoptive brother, before letting her hand go slack when she realized that it was a futile effort. "B-B-But…" she found herself physically unable to finish her sentence as she saw her brother hesitantly but determinedly walk off towards Tippy and the spiketails… his new family.

"Ducky, my dear…" her mother looked at her with a solemn expression.

Petrie offered a wing to console his friend when he realized just how distraught Ducky would be. "You okay, Ducky?"

"Hey, Ducky!" Cera cried out, her green eyes hovering on the swimmer as she directed her horn towards the spiketails. "Is it true that Spike's leaving?"

"Don't be upset, Ducky." Littlefoot remained optimistic, as the longneck always did. "I'm sure that he would be back someday."

Ducky ignored everyone's words, as well as her what visual senses was telling her. They were all talking nonsense. Spike wasn't leaving. After all, it was the truth, wasn't it? The reality of it was that her beloved Spike was not going away from the valley with a migratory spiketail herd. Nope, nope, nope!

This is not happening right now, she told herself as she stared after the leaving spiketails, unable to comprehend or perceive anything else but the departing group. She couldn't hear her mother, or Littlefoot and the others. It is all a big lie… a giant prank! It is, it is! Spike is my brother! He would never leave me. Oh, no, no, no!

It was all just a huge misunderstanding, simply put — a very bad sleep story that the swimmer had yet to wake up from. The more Ducky told that to herself, the more reassured she felt that her world wasn't crumbling to pieces around her.

A rueful look. One final bellow and tearful goodbye from Spike. Ducky simply covered her ears in response. Not happening, not happening.

She wasn't sure how long she stood there once the spiketails left. She kept telling herself that her eyes were playing tricks on her… that her mind was actively deceiving her.

It is all a prank by Cera and the others. It is, it is. I know that when I come back to the nest, Spike will be there! He will, he will! Yep, yep, yep!

The whole ordeal and subsequent denial of the situation was certainly a valiant effort on her part, but what Ducky's mind refused to process was one simple problem that grinded it all to a halt. The key problem was that her subterfuge was simply just that in the end… an act. And much like all acts and deceptions, they eventually had to come to a close. Even the most perfect of illusions would shatter into pieces when they hit their limits and cross the breaking point.

The thing about bottling up one's emotions was that it was like the equivalent of a Smoking Mountain that constantly growled, threatening to spew out hot flaming chunks of fire rock. When the threshold was reached, an eruption of intense proportions was imminent. As a threehorn, her friend Cera could attest to that feeling very well.

And with Ducky suppressing her feelings like a Smoking Mountain trying to keep itself dormant, the end result was pretty much exactly the same — the pressure rose and rose until it was finally let out in one disastrous blast, ending with devastating consequences to the ones around her as the unfortunate result.

---

Stage 2: Anger

But eventually, the cold truth of the situation sinks in for them. Reality reigns supreme, and it is at this point where the individual is unable to accept their world collapsing around them. The pain of loss takes over at this stage, which leads the individual to express their intense pain as feelings of anger.

Most proceed to lash out by redirecting their anger at their close friends or relatives at this point, feeling that life isn't fair. Sometimes letting loose can help to relieve their stress, but it is often at this point where relationships and friendships end up being tested.

…

There eventually came a point in time where Ducky could no longer ignore the cold, harsh truth.

A few hours later, the fact that her brother truly was leaving her hit the swimmer as hard as the Cold Time had hit the trees in the valley. Which is to say, very hard. Ducky didn't come away unscathed, limping away barren and cold, pretty much just like the bare treestar-less trees in the valley.

"Why, mama!?" she eventually hurled the dreaded question during the Night Circle-less night. "Why did Spike have to leave me? Why did he have to leave us? Why, why, why!?" Those words of agony were choked out of her quaking self as she shook vigorously with a mixture of hot fury and cold despair.

"Oh, precious Ducky…" Her mother leaned down to console her upset daughter. "Please do not be upset, dear. I know how you must be feeling, but you also have to understand that you have to see it from Spike's point of view as well."

"But what about me!?" she wailed, her eyes welling up with tears. "Does… does he not see how I think about this? Why would he go through with it if he know-ed that it would hurt me? I do not understand. I do not get it at all. Nope, nope, nope…"

Ducky felt her mother's arm on her shoulders, and soon heard her gentle words as well. "Now, now, Ducky. I'm sure that he didn't make this decision lightly. Spike knows that you must be broken-hearted—"

"He does?" Ducky cut in as she folded her arms, breaking out of her mother's massage and turning around to glare at her in a rare show of defiance. "I disagree with that very much! I do, I do! He looked very happy to leave the valley and be with the other spiketails. He looked very, very happy!" she sneered as her mind went back to the moment Spike had made his choice, the memory having seared itself into her long-term memory.

"Ducky…" Her mother reached out an arm to console her irate daughter, but to her surprise Ducky ran approximately ten paces forward and out of her reach.

"You had told Spike that we would see each other again before he would know it when he left us!" she yelled as she continued to run, "But that is not the truth at all, mama! You knew that it was not the truth and yet you still lied to Spike!" She stomped her foot on the snowy ground as a tear trickled down her beak. "And you also lied to me as well! You did, you did!"

"Ducky…?"

"Why did you give the spiketails the choice to take Spike away from us? You could have just said no to them! You could, you could! A simple 'no, no, no' would do the trick." Ducky kicked a snow-covered pebble away in anger. "And why did you have to let him go? Why!?" She broke into sobs, unable to control her tears. "I hate you, mama! I hate you!"

"Come back, dear!" The yells for her daughter eventually subsided when Ducky ran out of the nest, the larger swimmer ceasing her cries when she came to the conclusion that her daughter was in need of some space to cool off. The pitter-patter of Ducky's footsteps against the soft snow got softer and softer as the swimmer ran further and further.

"I hope you understand, Ducky. His choice was hard on all of us… not just you," she said to herself, struggling to maintain her own composure. With a sigh, the hunched mother headed back into her warm nest that had the remainder of her children within.

"Mama?" one of her sons called out to her as she walked back in from the entrance of their home. Just from a single glance at the worried expression plastered firmly on his face, she knew that he'd heard everything that transpired. The tense body language that the yellowish-green swimmer held—slouching in a manner rather synonymous to that of defeat—also hinted to it as well. The worry he had for his older sister was clear in his very posture, her outburst earlier having sent him spiraling into a depressed mood even though he was simply a bystander in the chaos.

"What is it, Delta?" His mother propped her tail down on the ground, feeling the mushy white substance cushion her. "I take it from your expression that you heard our conversation?"

A wag of his tail showed his slight hesitation before he continued. "Yeah, I overheard you and Ducky talking 'bout Spike." There was no point in denying it when his all-knowing mother had already figured it out. "But mom… will Ducky be okay? I've never seen sis this upset before! Never in my entire life, not even when she'd come back after the Sharptooth incident!"

His observation was apt. Everyone in their family knew that gentle little Ducky would never hurt a buzzer, so for their oldest sibling to lose her temper and lash out at their mother was a scenario that was practically unheard of. It was something which was very unprecedented, Ducky's recent outbursts being something which scared everyone in their family to its very core.

"Oh, Delta. Your elder sister is currently going through some very difficult times. Surely you must know that Ducky loves Spike very much."

"Well, so do I!" Delta replied indignantly, the young swimmer not willing to let his mother shoot down his argument without a fight. "And you can count Spring and Oxbow in as well! We all treat him as family! But she's taking it so much harder than any of us!" He closed his aquamarine eyes as he placed a palm to his forehead, exhausted. "I feel bad for sis. If you're unable to cheer her up and lift her spirits, then I don't think any of us can. Ducky's going to need all the support she can get, mom…"

I hate to admit it, even to myself, the larger swimmer thought. But my son's right. My precious Ducky's definitely going to need all the help that she can get to pull her through this tough time.

A tumultuous look crossed her face. Ducky always had been exceptionally close to Spike, and to have that bond between them severed so suddenly… it was no wonder that the good nature in her daughter was being suppressed and replaced by boiling anger as an instinctive response to the turn of events.

The best that she could hope for was that Ducky would eventually recover and let her usual perky personality shine through in the end. She and her children would support her all the way to ensure that Ducky returned back to her usual self.

She'd make sure of that.

…

She hated the spiketail herd for coming to the valley and ruining the status quo between them.

She hated the stupid cold weather.

She hated everything.

She hated everyone.

Ducky let out a wistful sigh as those vicious thoughts ran through her mind. She didn't even know that it was possible for a gentle swimmer like her to harbor such intense feelings of anger. The feeling felt like simmering fire boiling in her belly, a rather stark contrast to the cold all around her.

As she dragged her feet through the formerly green plains of the valley, she felt nothing but emptiness. There was nary a soul in sight out there in the barren fields.

The despair was soul-crushing, almost giving Ducky the feeling of diving very deep into a body of water and feeling the pressure from the liquid all around closing in on her from all sides. It was a claustrophobic, depressing feeling of grief that was indescribable to anyone unless they've been through it themselves.

What had truly hurt Ducky the most about this whole ordeal was the fact that Spike had agreed to go off and join the spiketail herd on his own accord. This separation between brother and sister had been instigated by him and him alone! It wasn't like a sharptooth attack beyond Ducky's control had been what had taken her brother away from her. Spike himself had full autonomy over the situation, and he himself was the one who had pulled the plug on his relationship with his adoptive swimmer sister.

How… how could he? How could he!?

Ducky tightly closed her beak shut, holding her breath so that she was able to puff up her cheeks and thus show her irritation in as threatening a manner as the hadrosaur was physically able to, even though it was a move that would probably ironically end up eliciting more laughs than any other emotion from any onlookers—if they were actually out here—since she just looked plain silly while doing it.

She was so engrossed with her act that she didn't look at where she was going and ran straight into the knee of a larger dinosaur as a result. Landing back on her tail with a whump and shaking her head to re-orientate herself, the swimmer looked up to see just who she had hit.

"Mr. Thicknose?" Ducky quipped as she tilted her head, recognizing the aged dinosaur in front of her. "What are you doing way out here in this cold?"

"I for one echo your sentiments. In fact, I believe that I can throw the exact same question back to you, Ducky." His voice seemed weaker from the boisterous one he used in his lessons. It was probably Topps' harsh tirade in front of every single valley resident that led to his current downcast mood.

Ducky huffed, folding her arms as she refused to answer Thicknose's question. Silence reigned supreme as student and teacher looked at each other, with the only noise around the two made from the gusts of winds surrounding them.

Finally, the swimmer was the first to break the melancholy. "You are upset too, are you not? I can see it in your eyes, Mr. Thicknose. I can, I can." Those eyes, once full of bright passion and brimming with excitement whenever he recited the teachings of a lesson, were now dull and jaded, almost as cold as the Cold Time itself… almost as gray as his body.

It was at that moment that Ducky pondered a curious thought. What did her own eyes look like? Hard water was not as good as regular water in terms of providing reflections, so she hadn't had a chance to catch her image yet. But if she were to venture a guess… she almost wanted to say that her expression probably mirrored Mr. Thicknose's.

Caught out by the young swimmer, Mr. Thicknose could only exhale a sigh, his breath frosting up in the air as he did so. "You got me, Ducky. I'm afraid that all your parents gave me a rather harsh talking-to after this whole ground sparkle mess."

"Oh, do you mean when Littlefoot was talking to you about the falling white stuff and you chose to dismiss him?"

Another sigh as the larger dinosaur looked away. "Yes. It is about that." Thicknose appeared to have aged a good five years at Ducky's remark. He appeared as though he had been coerced to admit his folly, his facial expression contorted in a manner that looked like he had to physically force those words from his mouth.

Ducky folded her arms. Normally, if she was in a better mood, she would cheer him up. But since she was currently feeling down and in dire need of a way to release her anger…

"Well, I think that it serves you right for being such a stick-in-the-mud." Ducky didn't hold back with her words, remembering the many, many times that she'd gotten in trouble with Mr. Thicknose thanks to Spike. "In my personal opinion, you deserve to be wrong for once after always acting so high and mighty and scolding me during your lesson all the time! You do, you do!"

Her accusatory tone struck Thicknose like a bolt of sky fire. His face fell harder than ever before, the elderly dinosaur looking down towards the snow on the ground — the very same white ground sparkles which had utterly trounced his career and reputation. He futilely tried to defend himself as he gazed down to a furious Ducky, "Bu-bu-but—"

Ducky continued on, deflecting Thicknose's miserable excuse of a rebuttal by interrupting him before he could spit any words out. "Oh, but I honestly do not mind the scolding. It is nothing at all compared to the next thing I am about to say." She paused, taking in a deep breath before shouting right at Thicknose's face.

"The truth is that I think that you are a terrible teacher, Mr. Thicknose!"

Thicknose took a step back, stunned both by her words and her angered tone of voice. "Wh-what?" he eventually managed to stutter, "Du-Ducky… is that really how you feel about me?"

"Yep, yep, yep. That is what I think about you. Cera's dad was absolutely right. You are a very bad teacher! You are, yes you are," she emphasized as Thicknose visibly winced. "You say that you have been everywhere and you have seen everything but yet you let this happen. If you really knew everything, then why would you be so horrible and let the cold ruin all the treestars? Why would you, Mr. Thicknose!?"

"B-b-but Ducky… I never wanted this to happen! I never wanted any of this to happen!" Thicknose cried out in a pained voice, shaking his head vehemently. "How was I supposed to know that Littlefoot would be right about the white sparkles? It was just one minor mistake… one minor mistake…" He repeated those last three words with a weak voice, in a manner that made it seem almost as though he didn't believe them himself.

Sure enough, Ducky was able to catch the hesitation in his voice. Sensing that moment of weakness, she went straight for the kill, not showing any mercy to Thicknose in the same way that Spike wouldn't show any mercy to a hapless treestar bush. "Well, if you ask me, I do not think that it was an honest mistake. Nope, nope, nope." Her arms on her hips, she stared Thicknose down as she delivered her verdict. "It was because you did not know anything about the white ground sparkles, did you?"

Thicknose let out a gasp, before looking down to the white ground and exhaling a deep sigh of air which quickly frosted up in the frigid air. From the movement alone, Ducky knew that her Pointy Seed had hit the mark.

Although if that was indeed the case, it meant that the great Mr. Thicknose, master of the lands and terrains, the one who'd "been everywhere, knows everything"… didn't really know everything.

The swimmer was struck dumbfounded by the realization. It was frankly unbelievable, the phenomenon akin to witnessing the fall of an idol. If this had been any other occasion or any other dinosaur who had found out, it would have been the scandal of the valley.

But as things stood now, Ducky was just numb with shock and rising anger. Now the fog from her mind had lifted and everything all became clear to her. Thicknose's constant reassurance to everyone in the valley that he did know everything had lasting repercussions.

In fact, she realized with horror that it played a key factor in Spike's departure.

"Hmph!" The swimmer folded her arms, not letting up on Thicknose as she proceeded to speak everything that was on her mind. "So you truly did not know about this at all. But that is the real reason that the spiketails left the valley. You not knowing about the white ground sparkles was what caused all of this to happen in the first place!"

"But… I knew about… ah, who am I kidding…" Thicknose sighed once he realized that he couldn't even defend his honor against a child. "I… didn't know…" he finally admitted out loud.

Hearing those words, Ducky's fists clenched up. She then firmly locked her blue eyes with Mr. Thicknose's as she launched herself into a tirade. "Well, if you had known about it then maybe we could have stored some green food, and then the spiketails would not have to leave the valley and take-ed Spike with them. It is all your fault, Mr. Thicknose! It is, it is!" The harsh accusation rang out across the empty plains, Ducky letting a few hot tears stream down her face as she completed her rant.

"I… I see… I'm so sorry you feel… this way, Ducky." Thicknose choked on his words, his face completely wrought with guilt as the swimmer's speech reverberated about in his mind. "I… know that I've been a t… ter… terrible teacher—" he had to struggle to spit out those words, "—to all of you young'uns. I guess I really know nothing after all. Please, Ducky… tell the valley that I'm sorry. I can't face them myself…" He blinked his eyes rapidly, looking almost as though he was ready to sob. Before Ducky can say anything more, Thicknose broke into a run, ploughing through the snow.

"Um, Mr. Thicknose?" she called out to the retreating tutor. "Where are you going? Wait… come back!"

He ignored the swimmer as he continued to sprint away. It was blatantly clear now that her emotional outburst appeared to have humbled him greatly. A muffled, "I'm sorry!" was all Ducky managed to hear from Thicknose over the blistering cold winds.

"I did not really mean that…" she finally muttered to herself when she could no longer see him.

Okay, perhaps she was lying to herself. She did mean those words, every last one of them. After the trials that she'd gone thorough, she felt that she was entitled and justified to let a little bit of anger loose towards Mr. Thicknose.

That being said, she hadn't wanted him to run off from her. Furthermore, the way that Mr. Thicknose had run away was so reminiscent of Spike leaving that if she thought about it for another minute more, she would probably get angry all over again.

"Ducky!"

Ducky perked up at the familiar voice, looking up to see a brown flyer struggling against the winds up above. "Petrie? Is that you?" she murmured as the flyer in question plopped his feet onto the soft ground as he landed five feet in front of her.

"Brrrrr! Me wings very colddd!" Petrie shivered as he trudged towards the swimmer, almost getting stuck in the heavy snow a few times. "You still okay, Ducky?" he asked. "You upset about Spike?"

The swimmer's face fell in an instant.

"You are asking me if I am upset about Spike?" Ducky visibly bristled as she vented about the spiketail. "Well, of course I am! How can I not be upset at him? Spike chose to go! He went, went, went!" she yelled, thrusting her arms up with every iteration of the word 'went'. "And now he has left me alone here… all alone…" she sniffed, choking on the final word.

"Ohhhh… it okay, Ducky. Me know how you're feeling…"

Those reassuring words by Petrie, meant to soothe the distraught swimmer and calm her down, unfortunately had the exact opposite effect on Ducky than what the flyer had intended. "You know how I am feeling?" Ducky spat back in a sarcastic tone, one that was very unlike the usual jovial one that the hadrosaur always carried around her.

"U-uh… yes?" Petrie responded in an uncertain voice, not quite used to Ducky speaking to him in a manner that was very Cera-like. He had approached the swimmer expecting Ducky, not Cera!

"No!" Ducky shouted, her voice reverberating across the clearing. "You are wrong, Petrie! You are, you are!" At that double affirmation, the swimmer stormed forward, causing the nervous Petrie to back away with every step that she took towards him. "You do not know how I am feeling right now at all, so do not lie to me and pretend that you do!" she lectured Petrie with a hardened edge to her voice, shutting down the flyer before he even had a chance to get a squeak out of his beak.

Eventually though, Petrie managed to overcome his shock at Ducky's retort. "D-Ducky!" he squawked in a panicked tone, "W-W-W-Wait! Me don't—"

"Go away, Petrie!" the hadrosaur yelled over the concerned Petrie, lashing out at one of her best friends. "I do not want to be seeing or hearing you right now! Nope, nope, nope!" Her usual triple refutation even seemed unusually threatening, with Ducky stomping forward with every 'nope' that she hissed out.

"Please, Ducky!" he begged, "Me know you angry, but please don't take it out on Petrie!"

Ducky sneered in an unusual display of meanness, knowing that Petrie was going to be stubborn to the very end. In a rare loss of self-control, she raised her voice to a level that almost matched Cera on one of the threehorn's nastier days. "I said… LEAVE ME ALONE!" she screamed at Petrie, her mind too hazy to think straight.

"Du-Ducky?" Petrie stuttered, stumbling and falling on his back as his beak fell open in surprise from her outburst.

Seeing that Petrie was still hesitant to leave, the swimmer proceeded to let loose a whole flurry of insults in the hopes that one of them finally would get the emotional flyer away from her. "What part of 'go away' do you not understand?!" Ducky fumed, "Ohhhh… you are a stupid flyer! You are a beakbrain! You are, Petrie, yes you are!" she yelled out, angrily flailing her arms about in an effort to shoo the flyer away.

Petrie's beak quivered at Ducky's verbal onslaught, his uncertain eyes unable to meet hers as the flyer visibly began to tremble in the white ground sparkles that were scattered across the ground. "M-Me see… me think… me guess now not good time to talk?" He clamped his beak shut when Ducky shot him an icy glare at his rhetorical question.

"Petrie…" she hissed his name, spitting out drops of saliva as her face contorted with anger. She reached down to the ground, scooping up white ground sparkles from the ground in her hands and launching the resultant snowball at the flyer.

"Oof!" cried Petrie as Ducky's snowball hit him right smack in the middle of his head. After a slight pause, he hesitantly used a wing to wipe the slushy substance off his face, the flyer staring at the snow on his wing as though he couldn't believe what his friend had just done to him.

Seeing Petrie too stunned to move, Ducky squatted down to collect more ground sparkles and prepared to launch another projectile at him. "PETRIE!" she snapped as she held her right arm with a clumped snowball up high, "JUST LEAVE ME ALONE ALREADY! GET OUT OF MY SIGHT!"

"O-Okay!" Petrie hurriedly exclaimed when Ducky looked ready to lash out at him again. "Me get it, Ducky! Me gonna go now!" he yelped, blinking back tears threatening to fall from the corner of his eyes. Taking one last look at the fuming swimmer, he hesitantly flapped his wings and took off into the dark skies above.

As Petrie soared away, Ducky was once again left alone, with only the falling white ground sparkles to keep the lonely swimmer company.

She sadly shook her head and continued to walk across the snowy plains of the valley, trying to find any meagre trace of a spiketail who was no longer here.

That was how her family found her later that night. The frantic swimmers had hunted the valley high and low for their missing daughter, before they finally managed to locate Ducky lying down next to a riverbank, the young hadrosaur having exhausted herself to sleep.

---

Stage 3: Bargaining

Bargaining is the stage where the individual reflects upon everything that had happened to them. A temporary escape can be sought after as they often make try to deals at this point to end up in a better situation than their current one.

An individual at this point often asks themselves multiple 'what if' statements, grasping onto the strings of fate while wondering what it could have been like had they made a different choice…

…

About a cold time ago…

"This is our new brother Spike!" Ducky happily declared to her parents as she jumped onto Spike's back.

"B-but, my dear Ducky… he's a spiketail!" Her mother gently admonished, correcting what she perceived to be her daughter's naïveté.

But to the elder swimmer's surprise, Ducky shook her head, revealing that she was already well aware of the gap between their species. "I know that. I do, I do. But that does not matter to me at all… nope, nope, nope! I do not care that he is a spiketail. Oh, no, no, no!" the young hadrosaur declared in a firm voice, before clasping her hands together and looking at her mother with the most pleading eyes that she could muster up. "So can we adopt him, mama? Can we, can we? Pretty please?!"

"Well, Shoal?" Ducky's father looked at his mate expectantly, his eyes hovering down towards his swimmer daughter and the half-submerged spiketail absentmindedly gazing about at the multitude of swimmer younglings surrounding him. "What do you think we should do about this spiketail?"

Seeing that her mate had pushed the burden of making the final decision over to her as stealthily as a fast biter ambush, the female swimmer lowered her head down to nuzzle her precious little Ducky. As mother and daughter embraced each other tenderly, she took a closer look at the spiketail with gentle, loving eyes.

"I say we adopt him. Why not?" she replied her mate. Ducky gasped at her response with pleasant surprise, before letting out a merry cheer at her mother's approval of her suggestion. Seeing her daughter's happy mood at her affirmation, Shoal quickly went on to justify her decision to her mate, "I mean, it's the very least we could do after our ancestors from above blessed us with the return of our Ducky!"

Ducky's father sniggered at her answer. "Well, it's not like I can argue with your logic, my dear…" he grumbled in a not-so-humble voice while making circular motions with his arms that matched his rolling eyes.

"Hah! Glad to see that you know your place. You are free to try as hard as you can, but you'll never beat me in a verbal fight as long as I live!" Shoal placed her hands on her hips as she smirked, taunting her mate in a rare display of childlike cheekiness. However, the swimmer quickly dropped her mischievous demeanor when she remembered that her children were still around, and it would be disastrous if they decided to emulate their mother in this regard.

Looking back down to the two younglings in the water, Shoal proceeded to gently press her snout against the young spiketail, with Spike reciprocating the gesture as his new sister Ducky looked on at the scene, her young face beaming with pure joy.

"Welcome to our family, Spike." Shoal spoke to the spiketail with a loving voice, making sure to use the same sort of tone that she would use to tuck her own children in at night.

"Yep, yep, yep! Welcome to my family!" Ducky echoed after her mother, grinning from ear to ear as she leaned down from her spot on Spike's back to nuzzle affectionately against his head. Spike let out a cheery grunt as both females nuzzled him, the spiketail very clearly content with this turn of events.

"It looks like you are now my new younger brother, Spike!" Ducky proclaimed as she excitedly pumped her fist up into the air, "You are, yes you are! Hee hee hee!"

…

And thus, a family of four children became one that consisted of five younglings. Four young swimmers and a spiketail.

That had been one of the best moments of Ducky's life — the day that she and her friends had put an end to the threatening Sharptooth and subsequently discovered the Great Valley, finally putting an end to the turmoil and uncertainty that she'd had to live with during the early days of her life. In addition, her mother and father also agreeing to adopt Spike and take the spiketail into their family to join alongside Ducky and her three siblings was pretty much adding even more sweetness to the tree sweets, making the occasion even more joyous and dear to the swimmer's heart.

But right now, all her memories of that joyous occasion seemed bitter and tainted with the recent revelations. As her mind reluctantly brought her out of her past and back to the harsh reality of the present, Ducky solemnly gazed her eyes over to the howling blizzard that was outside of their home, with one dominant thought lingering on her mind.

Just where had it all gone so wrong?

Ducky considered herself the opposite of one would call a complex creature. As such, she always followed one simple personal rule in life. The swimmer's belief was one that could not really be argued against — she held the firm opinion that there was always a reason to everything that was happening in the world around her.

For instance, the reason that she positively loved to say her catchphrases was because she was used to mentioning them ever since she was a young hatchling, which as a result, had led to her never outgrowing them. The reason that she was the best swimmer out of her siblings was because she always practiced swimming in bodies of water whenever she was free, giving her an edge over some of the lazier swimmer younglings. The reason she and her friends had always beat the numerous sharptooth during their adventures was due to them working as a team.

But this, however, had differed from the norm. Call her blind, but Ducky could not see any clear reason as to why the cruel strings of fate had to take Spike away from her. Even though her mama and Tippy's mother had justified the reasoning to her, she was still unable to perceive the rationale behind Spike's eventual decision.

Oh, Spike… Ducky thought solemnly to herself as a single tear slid down her face. Why did you choose to leave with the spiketail herd? I mean, I sort of know why, but was the Tippy-no, sorry, tipping point because of something that I did-ed wrong? Did you feel that I had forced you into our family? Did doing that made you mad deep inside when you wanted to be with other spiketails… instead of me?

As the harsh blizzard continued to howl outside her home, Ducky found herself missing all the little things about Spike — small little habits that the spiketail had, habits that the swimmer basically committed to memory after living with him over the past year.

She missed the way that he would longingly gaze at his food, before ruthlessly snatching away anything that could momentarily sate his eternal hunger. She missed the manner that he always behaved in whenever he was munching on a mouthful of treestars, the spiketail making sure to savor the taste of the leaves for as long as he possibly can. She missed him using his tongue to lick her in an affectionate manner. She missed his deep violet, dopey eyes that sometimes made it seem like he wasn't physically in the valley, but rather up in the stars above. She even missed his usual sleep rumbles, since now with Spike gone, the dead silence that had descended upon the nest with his absence suddenly felt so eerie and out of place.

It was funny how things worked… simple, pure irony at its finest. After living with the spiketail for so long, those were the little things that Ducky had admittedly taken for granted. As a result, she hadn't realized what it was like to lose Spike's little quirks until his presence was no longer felt, at which point the hadrosaur began to actively long for them again.

"Please do not leave me, Spike! I know that I haven't been the best sister to you lately, but I promise that if you stay here with me, I will never complain or get mad about your eating or your sleep rumbles ever again. Nope, nope, nope! So please, Spike!" Ducky pleaded as her voice turned desperate, the swimmer looking up to the gray sky outside from the comfort of her mother's nest.

Dead silence.

No slushy tongue licking her awake. No loud burps after meals. No having her dinner stolen from right under her nose, with the culprit for the crime being an overeager spiketail.

She couldn't stand it. She just couldn't stand it.

"Please… do not leave me by myself… I do not want to say goodbye to Spike!" Ducky looked down at her lap with a forlorn expression, her vision going misty yet again. "Nope, nope, nope! I do not want to do that…"

Because if she relented and choose to say goodbye… that would mean that she herself has accepted that Spike had truly done gone and left her. Ducky couldn't bring herself to do that. She literally could not physically bring herself to sever her ties with her adoptive brother.

Her belief that he would return, however slim it might be, was the only thing still keeping her hopeful. It was a miniscule chance, about as small as a treestar that only managed to avoid fluttering away in the blowing wind by hanging onto the tree branch solely from its thin stalk alone…

…but however small it was, there was still a chance. That was why Ducky had held steadfast amidst all the bitter tears. That was why she continued to hold on to that ever-so-slight chance that Spike would break free from the spiketails and return home. Because there was still a chance. There was still hope — the same hope of the Bright Circle appearing over the skies and melting all the cold snow away.

If only Spike would return and be that ray of sunshine that melted her frosty heart. The depressed, begging hadrosaur would give anything for that.

Anything.

---

Stage 4: Depression

After adamantly denying about the tragedy of a situation, lashing out at it, misdirecting their thoughts and bargaining about it, at this stage… reality finally sinks in.

But the cold, hard truth that is their new reality often hurts like hell.

Often a times, many spiral into feelings of true despair. While many struggle to cope at this stage, there are a few select individuals who are pushed to the very brink of their mental limits. These people end up relishing the darkness, letting those brooding thoughts enter and take control of their minds like a parasite.

With the seeds of doubts planted, those individuals often have their judgements swayed, to the point that they even think of ending it all…

…

"Me think Ducky not happy."

Cera rolled her eyes at Petrie blurting out what he thought was an astute observation, whereas in reality it was a blatantly obvious statement. "Well, duh! Of course Ducky's not happy!" the threehorn snorted. "In other surprising news, the Bright Circle always rises from the same direction every day!" she said with as much sarcasm as she could draw in a single breath, which for Cera… was a lot.

A surprised Petrie tilted his head, his beak dropping. "I-It does?"

"Of course it does, ya nitwit!" Cera yelled, losing her temper as her joke flew over Petrie's head like a Pointy Seed arcing over a longneck. "Come on, Petrie! You're a flyer! Of all of us, you should be the one who know this kind of stuff! It's not like threehorns have any use for this weird information, so if I can have it memorized, then you have no excuse not to know!"

"Enough already, okay? Give Petrie a break! There's no need to be so mean to him." Littlefoot chided Cera to save the fumbling flyer from further verbal lashing. "Maybe Petrie hasn't seen the Bright Circle in a while," he pointed out. "Ever since the Cold Time began and the white ground sparkles began to fall, the Bright Circle hasn't been up at all."

"White ground sparkles, me no like!" Petrie declared, the flyer puffing his chest up. "They cold, they get on my wings, and they everywhere!"

"But you have to admit that they're different."

"Just because it's different doesn't always mean it's a good thing, Littlefoot!"

"Anyway, back on topic." Littlefoot quickly redirected the topic before Cera could derail it in a way that only a threehorn could. "Petrie's right. Ducky has not played with us ever since Spike had left the Great Valley."

"Gee, isn't that a surprise? I wonder what else could have caused Ducky to be upset recently?" Cera deadpanned, rolling her green eyes as hard as she possibly could.

"Cera!" Littlefoot scowled, offended by her blunt retort.

"But it's true, Littlefoot!" Cera held firm, brandishing her horn as she stared back at the longneck. "You know as well as I do that she's been hurting over Spike for the past few days!"

That much was certainly true. While all of the gang had been upset over Spike's decision to leave the valley, no one took it harder than Ducky. To see their formerly peppy swimmer friend spiral into a state of depression was heartbreaking.

"Well, I think that we should all just leave her alone for now." Cera's face took on a contemplative expression, the threehorn furrowing her frill. "She'll come around eventually, just give her time."

"You speaking from experience, Cera?" Petrie felt a smug smile creeping up on his beak as he threw Cera's own words back at her.

Cera grew flustered for a few seconds, before a mask of indifference quickly fell over her face. "Hmph! Whatever makes you think that of me?" she cried indignantly as Littlefoot promptly shot the proud threehorn one of his why-do-I-have-to-deal-with-this looks.

Thankfully, before Littlefoot or Petrie could shoot a retort back to the threehorn and potentially start up an argument, they were all interrupted by a caw from the sky.

"Petrie!"

The three children jolted up at the motherly voice, none more so than the one who was being called. "Mom! What you doing here!"

The dark blue flyer landed on the ground, grinning at her son. "Well, I've been looking for you, Petrie. And well, when I couldn't find you, I figured that you would be with your friends."

"Your hunch is right." Littlefoot smiled. "So what brings you here, Petrie's mom?"

"While we flyers were making our rounds, we managed to find some green food just outside the valley!" the flyer declared merrily. As her uplifting words were heard, the three children jumped for joy.

"But—"

Littlefoot sighed, shaking his head with a soft smile. The longneck knew that he shouldn't have rejoiced so soon. He should have known there was a catch.

"There was something else we found." She shook her head, her beak drooping as she let out a miserable sigh. "The valley will be conducting a meeting regarding this soon, so I want all of you children to stay put over here, okay?"

All three of them perked up at the word "meeting". From multiple first-hand experience, a valley meeting was never good… especially when they weren't being invited to it.

Although she didn't notice it yet, Petrie's mother had made one fatal mistake. She should have realized that she couldn't tell the children not to do something and expect them to simply obey, and that went double for Littlefoot and his friends, who were undoubtedly the most inquisitive younglings in the entire Great Valley, bar none.

"So what meeting about?" Petrie asked, looking up at his mother.

Petrie's mother let out a groan, shifting her talons and making marks on the snow beneath her feet. "Well, you see, Petrie…"

…

It was almost amusing, really.

When the spiketails had first come, Ducky had completely ignored them, the swimmer not letting them have the honor of occupying a single thought in her mind. And now that they were gone, they haunted her thoughts day and night. It appeared that Tippy and the other spiketails operated on an inversely proportional thought law. The more she wanted to forget about Spike, the more Spike dominated her mind.

"Oh, I am upset," Ducky casted a despondent look as her voice echoed across the cavern. "I am, I am."

"Me know you upset, Ducky. That why me here to cheer you up!"

"P-Petrie?" Ducky's hands flew to her mouth, instinctively averting her blue eyes towards one side out of guilt as she heard the flyer and promptly saw him a few seconds later, landing himself on the ground. She fought down the panic that she felt within her when she realized that he had deliberately sought her out. Why else would he be at the swimmer's nest in this weather?

Petrie seemed reluctant to step forward, his clear hesitation feeling like a pointy stick was stabbing Ducky in her chest. She could see that the flyer was still hurting from the verbal beating she had thrown at him a while back. With a sense of guilt, she signaled Petrie to come forward. "Do not worry, Petrie. I do not bite," she bantered, "Unless you are made of treestars, that is! Tee hee!"

As Petrie chuckled and strode forward, Ducky's face turned downcast. "Why are you here, Petrie? Do you not hate me the same way that Spike does?"

"What?" Petrie squeaked a little louder than he meant to. "Me hate you? Why would me ever hate you, Ducky? We bestest friends!" the flyer declared in a firm voice.

Ducky shrugged. "Did I not yell at you a few days earlier?" she pointed out. "That is not the right way for bestest friends to treat one another, oh no no no." She moped, squatting down and placing her hands to her cheeks. "I do not deserve to be your friend, Petrie…"

Her lamenting was interrupted by a horrified squawk from Petrie. "Don't say that, Ducky! Me already forgive you!"

Ducky's eyes lit up, the swimmer getting back up. She couldn't believe her ears. "Y-You… do?" she hesitantly asked, afraid that her mind was playing tricks on her and hence requiring another confirmation from the flyer to be absolutely certain.

"Yep, yep, yep!" Petrie said, copying Ducky's catchphrase with a cheeky grin on his beak.

Ducky beamed, tears of joy falling from her face. Wiping them away with one hand, she profusely thanked her best friend. "Oh thank you, Petrie! Thank you!" The feeling of knowing that Petrie didn't despise her for what she had done to him a few days prior was like having a weight lifted off her shoulders. The swimmer had no idea how much she needed the reassurance until Petrie had given it to her.

"No mention it."

"I am sorry, Petrie." Ducky wallowed in her shame, looking down at her toes. "I am sorry for what I have done to you."

Petrie nodded, letting her know that he had accepted her hasty apology. "Oh, me sorry for flying away too." He tiptoed forward, creeping across the snow as stealthily as he could. "The thing is, me siblings always called Petrie names before, but that was first time Ducky ever call me beakbrain." Petrie let out a humored chuckle from his beak as he admitted that fact to the swimmer, before lowering his eyes to the ground and verbally backtracking when he saw Ducky flinch back from his words. "But me gotta be honest… me no know how to feel when you said that to Petrie!"

Ducky couldn't help it. The image that Petrie had painted of her viciously calling him a beakbrain was so much of a far cry from how it actually went down in reality that she had no choice but to laugh.

"But me be serious now." Petrie nervously gazed about as he encroached the topic that had gotten him pelted with a snowball the previous time. "How you feel about Spike?"

Petrie's words hit her like a frozen stick made of hard water. The previous time that she had that question posed to her, she had reacted with anger. But this time, having days to reflect on her situation, she finally decided to let loose her primal thoughts and feelings about the loss of her brother that she had kept hidden within herself for all this time.

"P-P-P-Petrie!"

She ran forward and gave Petrie a big hug, the only warning that the flyer got being the choked stutter that Ducky had uttered from her beak mere moments prior. "I am so very sorry for yelling at you…" Ducky sobbed into her friend's wing, embracing the flyer as she wailed. "I-It is just…" she hiccupped as she felt another fresh wave of tears coming, tears which threatened to spill from her eyes.

"There, there, Ducky…" Petrie consoled his friend, returning the embrace by wrapping his wings around her. "It gonna be okay. Just let it all out."

"It is just that… I am unable to do anything about Spike! Nope, nope, nope!" she whimpered. "No matter what I do or say, I could not make-ed Spike stay with me here in the valley. I cannot do it… it is all hopeless…"

"Ducky! Don't say that!" Petrie cried, holding up and supporting the inconsolable swimmer as her body shook. "You no alone! The reason Petrie say me know how you feel… is because like Ducky, me also lose family member as well."

"Hu-huh?" A confused Ducky managed to look up into Petrie's face.

"You no remember? How can you no remember!? It happen less than two Night Circle cycles ago!" Petrie responded in an indignant voice as he saw Ducky's baffled expression, before relaxing his stance when he remembered his friend's current mood.

"It me uncle, Pterano…"

"Your u-uncle? You mean… your uncle Pterano?" Ducky blinked tears away as she registered Petrie's words. She couldn't believe that Petrie's maternal uncle had slipped her mind. It had almost seemed like yesterday when the grandiose flyer had landed in the Great Valley and promptly made his plans for a leadership coup, one that was thankfully thwarted by her and her friends.

Ducky had tried to suppress the memory, preferring not to remember the incident. But now that Petrie had brought it up, she did remember Pterano quite well. Namely, she recalled about how the well-versed flyer had let his associates coldly kidnap her.

But then again, the same Pterano did have his reservations about kidnapping her in the end, and had also saved her from certain death when she had plummeted down from the top of a Burning Mountain. In the end, like what she had told Petrie before, Pterano was a good flyer inside… even if his uncle wasn't the best role model for Petrie to emulate.

"That right, Ducky. Uncle Pterano got banished out to Mysterious Beyond for five Cold Times…" Petrie went on to explain with softened eyes. "That why me say to Ducky back then that me also know how you feeling… since me also lose Pterano when valley grownups make decision at Rock Circle to send him away to Mysterious Beyond. Me can't see me uncle no more, just like how we can't see Spike no more either…" the flyer lamented, breaking away from their shared embrace.

Ducky approached her friend, a look of understanding crossing her face. "So you must have felt the exact same way that I feel now when your uncle had to leave, right?"

"Y-yeah…" Petrie admitted, a wistful sigh escaping his beak.

Knowing that she wasn't alone in facing a situation like this helped the swimmer so much. It gave her something that the former optimist hadn't felt a while — hope.

"So how did you cope with it?" Ducky inquired with a curious tilt of her head. She needed to know. She had to know how Petrie coped with his prickly situation.

"Petrie no know if me can explain how me feel about Uncle Pterano inside me head, but me gonna try anyway!" The flyer began to pace about, looking up to the cave ceiling in a manner that made it obvious that he was thinking hard about the topic. "When Uncle Pterano left Great Valley just like that after grownups all made him go away… me felt the same way that you do now. Me thought Great Valley was being super unfair and that Uncle Pterano should have been allowed to stay."

Petrie took in a deep breath, composing himself before he could continue. "But now… me accept it. Sure, me know that me can't see me uncle for five Cold Times. But it okay!" he affirmed with a wing in the air, although his delivery of that statement in an uncertain, shaky voice made Ducky skeptical that Petrie really thought that way. Perhaps he was just telling a lie for the sake of not dampening the mood further.

But eventually, her doubts were cleared when a sad sigh escaped Petrie's beak. "Me finally understand that what he did to you and Great Valley is wrong now, so all me can hope for is that he come back to valley after five Cold Times as better flyer… better Uncle Pterano."

There was a brief silence after Petrie concluded, the flyer bringing his wing forward and taking a small bow as he finished his story.

"Whoa… I never looked at your uncle that way before…" Ducky finally managed to mutter in awe. "Nope, nope, nope…"

At that, Petrie had a wry grin on his face, one which made it almost seem as though he had expected that comment. "Me know exactly why…" he chirped in a teasing tone, "It because Cera and Mr. Threehorn always talk bad about Uncle Pterano, huh?"

Whup. Petrie had hit the mark there. One hundred percent. Right at the bullseye.

It had never struck Ducky before this that Pterano was a real living dinosaur as well, not when everyone in the valley despised him to the point where they would prefer to see him dead. The brutalization of the flyer—of which Mr. Threehorn was the prime chieftain responsible for the project all thanks to the incident from all those years ago—caused her to view Pterano not as a person, but as an acceptable target.

As a result of that, she'd never thought much of Pterano as a flyer with feelings. Hence, she never realized how much Pterano's departure must have affected Petrie. Petrie's outcry when the adults had banished him at the Rock Circle was some indicator to the contrary, but it seemingly appeared that he had recovered quickly from it in the days after.

Evidently not.

From his words, it was clear that Petrie was still scarred by the banishment of his uncle. It wasn't obvious unless one actively looked for it, but the sense of longing and filialness towards his uncle was still there.

But in the end, Petrie had accepted his uncle's fate. He'd said it himself.

Ducky beamed at Petrie as she realized that she and her best friend had much more in common than she'd ever imagined. "Thank you so, so much, Petrie!" she said with joy. She couldn't express in words just how much Petrie's confession had affected her. If Petrie was able to get over the loss of his uncle, it gave her a real life example to follow.

Perhaps… she might be finally able to put Spike behind her.

"Yes, thank you so much for cheering my daughter up."

"E-eep! It Ducky mom!" Petrie respectfully bowed his head at the larger swimmer as she strutted forth from the back of the cave.

"Relax, Petrie." Shoal smiled gently. "There's no need to worry. I had heard everything from afar." She bowed her head before giving the two a warm smile. "But I must thank you for cheering my upset daughter up! I truly appreciate that Ducky has true friends like you and the others!" she called from the distance.

"Me just glad you happy now, Ducky." Petrie gave a smile back to Ducky before abruptly changing the topic. "Whew!" he wiped his brow, "Can you believe me was worried me gonna get more white sparkles thrown at me?"

"Then why did you come back, Petrie?"

The flyer's jovial face turned serious. "Me be honest. Me was originally gonna to give you some space. That is, until me heard news from me mom. When me hear news, me said, 'Now me made up me mind. Me gonna find Ducky at once!'"

This was certainly new information to Ducky. "News?" she prodded, "What news? I have not heard this before. Oh, no, no, no."

"It about Mr. Thicknose. Oh, it so horrible!" Petrie involuntarily shivered, beginning to stutter before he squeaked out in a horrified voice. "H-He dead now, Ducky!"

"Wh-what?" She couldn't keep the shock out of her voice at the blunt statement, her mother following suit from behind her.

Thicknose was… gone? How had that happened?

Hadn't she just seen him very much alive just a few days ago? Even though their teacher had always been agitated at her during their classes, even Ducky wouldn't go as far as to wish such a fate on him.

"How do you know that… he has gone to the Great Beyond?" Ducky finally managed to ask Petrie.

"Because it was actually my momma who found him. Mom was scouting out of valley for food when she saw him lying still below." Petrie cringed at his own words, disgusted by the mental image his mind conjured up. "He no moving. He just lying there with white ground sparkles all around him."

"That is terrible!" Ducky exclaimed. "What happened to Mr. Thicknose?"

"Broken heart. That what Mom told me he died of."

"Broken heart?" Ducky echoed after Petrie as she felt a sinking feeling within her.

"Well, Petrie's right. That was the conclusion the grownups all came to."

Ducky spun on her feet at the new voice coming from the mouth of the cave, recognizing it as belonging to her longneck friend. "Littlefoot! You are here! Yep, yep, yep!" She then looked around Littlefoot to see an apprehensive threehorn following behind him. "And Cera too!"

"Sorry that we're late," Cera panted before she shot Petrie a glare. "It only seems that we're late because Petrie's early. That flyer over there scooted off to your home first while we followed the adults to sneak to their meeting."

"There was a meeting?" Shoal muttered in a surprised voice before the remainder of Cera's words hit her ears. "And you eavesdropped on it, children!?"

"What?" Cera retorted indignantly as Ducky and Petrie tried to hush her from blowing one of their biggest secrets. "We do that all the time!"

"I suppose the message didn't get through to you, Ducky's mom," Littlefoot respectfully said, changing the topic before Shoal could reply in horror. "It was about Mr. Thicknose." He averted his eyes towards the ground before he continued. "When the flyers were looking for food, they found him… not moving."

Shoal held her hands to her mouth. "That's awful! I never expected Mr. Thicknose to go out like this…"

"No one did." Littlefoot nodded in agreement. "I have to confess that I think that it is my fault that this happened to him. If I didn't admit to Cera's dad that Mr. Thicknose knew about the white sparkles, then he wouldn't have got all the blame. They said that Mr. Thicknose has no family at the meeting just now. How must he have felt when the entire valley turned against him?"

"Perhaps it was his fallacy of being unable to predict the cold spell?" Shoal suggested. "Having spoken with Mr. Thicknose before, he takes his own teachings very seriously…"

Littlefoot lowered his neck, his voice turning softer. "Well, in retrospect, I think that I always annoyed him during our classes."

"Hmph!" Cera grumbled. "I think we all annoyed him during his classes."

"Even Cera's dad felt guilty when he heard the news." Littlefoot had a look of surprise on his face that probably mirrored how he felt when he had witnessed it at the meeting firsthand. "He probably thinks that it's his fault Mr. Thicknose ran away."

"Entirely true," Cera muttered, with just that tiny little hint of pride in her voice.

Littlefoot rolled his eyes, sending a subtle signal to the threehorn that now was not the time for jokes. "It was Petrie's mom who'd broke the news to us. That was when Petrie flew off to your nest."

"Already said that!" Petrie piped up, much to Cera's chagrin. "When me heard about what happened to Thicknose, that when me remember seeing Ducky with him a few days ago." He then turned towards Ducky, shivering in fear. "That why me rush for you. Me no want you to end up like Mr. Thicknose. Me no can imagine life without you, Ducky!" the flyer confessed.

Finally, Ducky could take no more of it. "It is my fault that Mr. Thicknose is gone," she mumbled in a soft voice.

The reaction was pretty much instantaneous. A combined "WHAT!?" rocked the cavern.

"Ducky!" Petrie flew towards the swimmer. "Why you say that. It not your fault!"

"It is!" she shouted, a few tears forming at the corner of her eyes. "When I was wandering outside in the cold a few days ago, I had run into him and told-ed him that he was a horrible teacher."

Shoal gasped at her daughter's admission. "Ducky! Why would you do that!?"

"Because Mr. Thicknose does not know everything! Nope, nope, nope!"

"What?" Cera blinked. "What do you mean by that? I know my father poked fun at his 'been everywhere, knows everything' motto, but it's the truth, right?" Only upon seeing Ducky's solemn expression did she lower her face and realize that perhaps the question wasn't rhetorical after all. "Right…?"

Littlefoot had caught on as well as he observed Ducky's serious expression. "No way. You don't mean…"

"It all happened when Petrie was trying to cheer me up a few days ago." The image of the distraught Thicknose began to take shape and form in Ducky's mind. "I confronted him about it and he practically admitted that it was the truth. Mr. Thicknose did not know everything at all. Oh, no, no, no. If he had… then maybe Spike would not have—" she promptly cut herself off before the memories overwhelmed her.

"It wasn't really your fault, Ducky." Littlefoot gently said. "Mr. Thicknose was already on the edge. Your harsh words were probably just the tipping point."

"But I could have cheered him up!" Ducky lamented, feeling a sense of shame at her earlier behavior towards Thicknose. "Instead I made him so sad that he went to the Great Beyond. He was so upset that he told-ed me to tell the Great Valley that he was sorry. It is all my fault!" she exclaimed with rising horror and a sick feeling in her belly. "I was the one who drove him to his—"

"Ducky."

The swimmer flinched before looking up at her mother. "Yes, mama?"

"You can't change the past, dear." Shoal walked towards her daughter before leaning down and stroking her cheek. "What you did was definitely wrong, but you cannot let it pull you down forever."

"But Littlefoot said that Mr. Thicknose had no family and friends!" Ducky's voice was strained as the guilt ate at her. "What if I could have cheered him up and made him choose not to head off to the Great Beyond?"

"Ducky, my dear. You'll never know." Shoal said, before perking up as a new thought entered her mind. With a soft smile, she gestured Ducky towards Petrie. "Besides, didn't Petrie say that he came over here because he was worried that what happened to Mr. Thicknose would happen to you? Doesn't that show that you have a very caring friend by your side?"

Petrie bashfully nodded his head at the unbridled praise that was heaped upon him. "Th-thank you. But Ducky mom right. We always by your side, even if Spike no here! It not just me! Littlefoot and Cera always with Ducky too!"

"Yeah!" Cera huffed as she marched towards Ducky and her mother with her head held high. "Spike's disappearance affects all of us, so you're not alone in facing this!"

Shoal gave a reassuring smile to Ducky as the swimmer's mood began to improve. "You have to let them both go, dear. Both Mr. Thicknose and Spike."

"Me agree with Ducky mom. What happen to Thicknose not your fault!"

"You really mean that?" Ducky asked in an unsure voice. "Mom? Petrie?"

Littlefoot strode towards the swimmer. "Well, I certainly don't think that it was your fault. Besides, I swear that we won't repeat the same mistakes the grownups made with Mr. Thicknose when it comes to you!"

"That be right, Littlefoot!" Petrie said determinedly.

"Come on, Ducky." Littlefoot's brown eyes gently give the swimmer a boost of reassurance. "I hate seeing you down like this. When I was lost without my mother a Cold Time ago, it was your cheerful self who managed to bring me back to my senses. So now I'm repaying that favor. We need the old you back, Ducky."

Ducky closed her eyes, wiping her last few tears from her eyes. "I understand. All of you are right. You are, you are." This time, her double affirmation was said with vigor.

"Yeah!" Cera cheered. "Now that's the Ducky who I know!"

Petrie flew around the cave with joy, making a loop-de-loop in the air. "Me so glad you back, Ducky! Me so happy!"

Even the down-to-earth Littlefoot expressed his well wishes. "Welcome back to the gang, Ducky. We all missed you."

"Oh, thank you all so much! Thank you, Littlefoot, Cera, Petrie! I missed feeling like this as well! Yep, yep, yep!" Ducky nodded with joy at her friends' unwavering support. It appeared that the status quo that she had wished for when the spiketail herd had first arrived was finally going to be granted. "But please, just let me do one last thing…"

"Sure thing, Ducky!" Petrie gave her a thumbs-up.

As her friends looked on, Ducky walked out towards the mouth of the cave, giving one last look out to the Great Valley's sharp cliffs and the Mysterious Beyond that surely lay beyond them.

"Goodbye, Spike…" the swimmer sniffed for a final time as she swept her eyes across the skies, "I will miss you. I will, I will."

After that somber farewell, the swimmer had no more tears to shed.

---

Stage 5: Acceptance

Finally, acceptance. Not everyone reaches this stage, and the time it takes to finally accept the hand that fate had dealt them varies from person to person.

Here, the individual accepts their loss and that nothing could change the reality they now stand in. Emotions are re-stabilized, like a top regaining its bearings. While this doesn't mean that they are okay with the tragedy that had befallen them, they at least are able to accept the reality of the situation.

And thus, they break free from the vicious cycle which had gripped their heart and manage to successfully move on with their lives.

…

"It's the Cold Time again…" Littlefoot observed as white ground sparkles once again began to fall from the sky.

Ducky never did quite manage to get herself acclimatized to the Cold Time. The freezing weather always made her skin blue, as well as making the act swimming extremely tough. If the water didn't turn hard and make it flat out impossible, it was too cold for her to remain inside for any reasonable period of time anyway.

There was also the fact that the Cold Time had robbed her brother from her. The memory still hurt on occasion, but Ducky managed to cope fine on most occasions, with her friends supporting her on the few moments that she couldn't handle the memories of Mr. Thicknose or Spike and needed some support.

And although the Gang of Five had become a Gang of Four a year prior, life went on as per normal in the valley. In a way, nothing much had really changed at all.

A while later, a familiar sharptooth youngling and an eccentric fast runner had come into the Great Valley and ended up joining their little group, hence turning it into a Gang of Six. Perhaps, in another world where things had played out differently, there might have now been seven members in their unusual herd. But the way that things stood now, they only had six—not seven—very different dinosaur younglings.

It was on that snowy morning that the topic was brought up.

"Did I ever tell-ed you and Chomper about the story of my brother Spike?"

It had been a random thought. After a snowball fight, Petrie casually mentioned that Ducky had once hurled one at him with anger. One question led to another, and soon the topic of the spiketail herd was brought up.

"Spike?" Ruby quipped, tilting her head. "No, you did not, Ducky. I have not heard about this Spike, this Spike I have not heard about!"

"Hey, you know… that's something that I'd always wanted to ask about," Chomper piped up as he held one of his clawed finger up. "I did notice that Spike was missing when Ruby brought me over to the valley, but I've never brought it up until now…" his snout dropped slightly as the young sharptooth apprehensively kept his claws close to his body, "…because it felt like it was a touchy topic."

Cera snorted as she witnessed Chomper stumbling across his words. "In case you're wondering, Spike not being here has nothing to do with a sharptooth attack. So quit acting so guilty already!" The threehorn then let out a laugh as Chomper let out a sheepish sigh at the new information Cera had given him.

"Oh, no, no, no!" Ducky wagged her finger. "Cera is absolutely right. There is no need to feel awkward, Chomper!"

"You aren't answering my question, my question you aren't answering!" Ruby grumbled, folding her arms and bristling her feathers at the topic change. "Just who is this Spike?"

Three pairs of eyes hesitantly hovered over to the swimmer. They all knew that she was the perfect dinosaur to explain the situation to Chomper and Ruby, but all of them were unsure of whether she was up for the task, since it would most certainly bring back quite a few bad memories for Ducky.

Thankfully, their fears were unfounded.

"Well, Ruby…" Ducky started, her voice lowered significantly as her gentle blue eyes glazed up towards the sky, "How would I say this… I know it sounds very awkward, but Spike is not a swimmer. He is a spiketail. He is, he is!"

"Wait a moment!" Ruby interrupted, the fast runner leaning her head to the side in confusion. "I thought you said that Spike was your brother. So then, this does not make sense, no sense does this makes! Wouldn't he be a swimmer and not a spiketail?"

"I was just getting to that! I was, I was!" Ducky grumpily responded to Ruby's premature query. "My mama adopted Spike after I found-ed him all alone out there in the Mysterious Beyond," she explained. "She did, oh yes she did!"

"Your mother did that?" Ruby looked at Ducky skeptically. "Spike is actually adopted into your family? Your family actually adopted Spike in?"

"Yep, yep, yep! And he was the best spiketail ever! We were all good friends with him!" She then gazed downwards, idly shifting her feet around in the snow. "But one day, he had to leave."

"Leave?" Chomper tilted his snout. "Why would Spike have to leave?"

"He found other spiketails willing to adopt him. Yes, I do recall that his spiketail friend was named Tippy. So my mama gave him a choice, and he chose to go with them. He did, he did…"

Chomper and Ruby didn't miss the lamenting that was in Ducky's tone. They exchanged gazes between each other, their curiosity only amplified when the two saw Littlefoot and Petrie with worried faces. "So what happened next?" the sharptooth enquired.

"It is a long story, but eventually Petrie and the others managed to cheer me up. And that is the end of this tale. Yep, yep, yep!" Ducky then kept her beak shut, evidently unwilling to speak more about the topic.

"But Ducky… do you miss Spike? Miss Spike you do?" Ruby's voice turned solemn as she realized just how much this must have impacted Ducky. The fast runner was surprised that Ducky seemed so composed about the whole thing, since she knew the swimmer to be a very emotional girl. She was always as bright as the Bright Circle when she was cheery, but on the rare occasions that she wasn't, her mood tended to be a damper on everyone else as well.

Ducky heaved a sigh as she tilted her head up to the serene sky. "If I were to be perfectly honest with myself, I still do miss Spike." Ducky's voice softened as she peered up to the sky. "I do, I do…" As she squinted her eyes, the swimmer could almost swear that she could see Spike up in the formation of sky puffies above, which caused a faint smile to be traced on her beak.

"But I do not blame anybody for him leaving. Not anymore, no, no, no. It took me quite some time, but I now understand why Spike had to part ways with me." She looked down at her toes, clenching her fists to maintain her composure. "I have accepted it, even though it still does hurts me a little bit inside…" she admitted.

"Has he ever come back?" Chomper asked, only realizing that he had made a mistake when he saw a horrified expression on Petrie's face.

"Hey, Chomper!" Cera snarled at Chomper's tactless query. "Are you dumb? Would Ducky be this sad if he had ever returned back to the Great Valley!?"

"It is okay, Cera. Chomper did not know." Ducky gestured for her threehorn friend to stand down before Cera charged at the sharptooth. "And I can answer that. I can, I can." She took in a deep breath, many pairs of eyes now on her.

"I must admit that I still miss him. There have been moments where I have yearned for him. He has only been part of my life for a year, but that single year has completely changed me. There are days I wake up surprised that no one has woken me up yet, or nights when I am surprised I fall asleep so quickly without any sleep rumbles. There are times where I accidentally pluck a second serving of treestars only to realize that he isn't here with me."

Ruby couldn't help but to feel bad at what she was hearing from Ducky's mouth. "That is very saddening, very saddening that is…"

"No, I understand. It is just that I am used to having him around, but now i am used to having him gone, if it makes any sense. It is a lot like Petrie…"

"What?" Petrie jolted when he realized he had unwittingly become a part of the conversation. "When me gone?"

Ducky giggled at Petrie's surprised expression. "When I first met Petrie, he could not fly," she explained.

"Petrie could not fly!?" Chomper and Ruby's exclamation was simultaneous. "I thought Petrie was just bad at flying…" Chomper added, a "hey!" coming from Petrie as he heard those words.

"But now he can," Ducky continued. "And there are times when I remember our first adventure and wonder why he does not just fly out of danger before I realize that Petrie could not fly yet. It is rather much like that. It is slow, but I have slowly managed to piece together both Petries into one Petrie."

"Hey! Me no have twin brother…" Petrie protested at Ducky's explanation.

Ignoring Petrie's grumbling, Chomper nodded his head, beginning to understand where Ducky was coming from. "I see… so you're saying that you've gotten used to it?"

"In a way." Ducky shrugged. "I have accepted that Spike had his reasons for leaving. I would love to have him back, but even if he does not return, it is fine by me."

"That is very mature of you, Ducky. Very mature of you that is!"

"Well, you don't know how much Ducky had to go through before she reached that conclusion, Ruby." Cera said as she winked at Ducky. "That will be our secret!"

"Hey!" Chomper protested. "That's not fair!"

"Too bad! You'll have to catch me before I tell you the full, non-truncated, story!"

The fast runner twitched at the challenge, gearing up for a sprint. "You have made a mistake, a mistake you have made!"

Ducky was sensible enough to back away before Chomper and Ruby both began to chase Cera down. With Littlefoot and Petrie watching the chaos, no one saw the swimmer walking towards the frozen pond of hard water.

She hadn't realized that she had accepted the loss of Spike until she had told her tale to Chomper and Ruby. The feeling felt like she was no longer being shackled. It felt liberating to the swimmer.

Still, she wasn't going to completely let go of Spike. She still held on to a tiny glimmer of hope that one day, her adoptive brother would return.

But even if he did not, Ducky knew that it didn't matter. Spike would always be with her, even if he was not physically there. Now completely alone, the hadrosaur allowed herself to lay her feelings bare.

"We will always be together, Spike!" Ducky declared as she placed a hand to her chest. "Even if it is in my heart! Yep, yep, yep!"

---

"Goodbyes are never easy. Write a story about a parting."

It is certainly true that goodbyes are never easy. I mean, who would want to say goodbye to someone you hold dear?

But as the hourglass of time turns, eventually people would have to leave your life for one reason or another. It is all but inevitable. Whether it be death, going separate ways, or some other reason, there will come a time in a person's life where you would have to bid farewell to someone close to you.

All that being said, a parting is only truly eternal if an individual never accepts the loss. But if you turn things around and break out of your grief, you might realize that the memories of those who you hold dear can still keep you company. Life is an adventure, and the nostalgia of the past is often looked fondly upon as one ages.

Be it a first meeting, a funny event, a joyous occasion, or even an argument. It doesn't matter. The memories of those lost to the streams of time will still always be a part of your heart, even if the person themself is physically gone.

While separations might seem to be eternal… they'll always be a part of your memories.

And that is something which no one can ever rob from you.

---

Author's Note:

…I hope I didn't make anyone feel too emotional with this.

I'll be frank and admit that the very first thing that came to my mind when I read the fanfiction prompt on GOF was the Kübler-Ross model, more commonly known as the Five Stages of Grief — Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, and Acceptance. While I'm aware that the model has its real-life critics, I'm handwaving it off since I'm going for a thematic style with this story anyway.

By the way, if anyone is depressed to the point that they're contemplating suicide, please do seek help. I know a few depressed people in real life and on the net, and it's not worth it. Trust me.

Whether I succeeded or not in making you feel Ducky's plight at having to say her goodbyes to Spike, I do hope that this story at least touched you in some way. I'd experienced something similar a few years ago when my younger brother ran out onto oncoming traffic and narrowly avoided being hit by a motorcycle. Sometimes you just don't know when disaster will strike, and the prospect of losing a family member is a harsh one — hence the main reason on why I decided on focusing on the sibling relationship between Ducky and Spike for the prompt (the other was due to the positive reception that I'd received on the relationship between the two in my first LBT fic, Our Safe Haven).

I must say that this story was very different from my usual writing style, but nevertheless it was still a blast to write overall, even if it took quite some time to write — I'd started this before my July entry, Scrambled Eggs, yet only managed to complete it long after that fic was released. Still, I thoroughly enjoyed writing them both, and I'll definitely be interested in committing more regularly to future prompts when the challenge resumes in December since I joined rather late in the 2018 challenge. Overall, Land Before Time is certainly an intriguing fandom to write for.

Hope you all enjoyed this! I'm rather proud of this one!

---

Whew! If you've read this to the end, good on you! I hope this tale of depression and recovery touched you. As I've said, this is something different from what I normally write... and also 16,000 flipping words of prose. Geez! Hope y'all enjoyed the tale.