Chapter 3:''There is no official name for it, but most have referred it as the Imaginary Sickness in the past. Only those that have been in serious traumatic events show signs of it. Symptoms may include rapid changes in personality, abnormal anger or even hallucinations. It would appear that young Shorty here has all of them.''
Bron listened as the healer went on, but he wasn't really paying attention to her anymore. His attention was for the person suffering from this condition. Shorty stood short distance away, head bowed down and eyes closed.
''It is a very rare sickness,'' the healer said. ''I've only ever met one person who had it and even then it wasn't this severe.''
''Is there a way to fix it? Make it go away?''
She shrugged. ''If there's one, I don't know what it is. Some may start to show symptoms only after many years have passed, while others have them right at the start. Do you have any idea what could have caused it to go off?''
''All I know is that everything was just fine earlier today. Something very bad must have happened.''
''Yes, that seems likely. Which brings us to the question on how to fix it. Well, there's not a known cure for this. He may never be fully rid of it, but he can learn to control it.''
''Please,'' Bron said. ''Tell me what is. Anything to make it better.''
She shook her head. ''It is not that simple, Bron. You see, the only one to truly decide whether they want help for this is the patient himself. If he does not believe it can get better then how can anyone else? But he will not be alone in this. The road to recovery is long and hard, which is why he'll need someone to support him.''
While it was not the answer he'd been awaiting for, it was better than nothing. All he could do was help Shorty through this to the best of his ability. Alone he did not have much of a chance, but together they might pull this off.
It all reminded Bron how unfair it was, especially to a young child that didn't ask for this. Shorty deserved to be happy and free, not under constant torment. What if it was all his fault? Had he not seen how much the child suffered and now they were in this mess?
''Does this mean he'll keep having hallucinations of people that are not really there?''
''I wouldn't count that out just yet,'' she frowned in thought. ''A child's mind is more open to such tragedy.''
''What can we do about it?''
She considered it for a moment, then said, ''I would suggest that you place someone to watch him all day. Have them report everything. If anything changes, I wish to be alerted immediately.''
She came closer and whispered, ''It is probably for the best that he's kept apart from the rest, for the time being. They may not find his condition a welcome one and may even try to hurt him for it. People hate anything different from them and I fear anything they might say or do will set it off again.''
''You think this will help him?''
''It is the best we can do right now. If the situation should change, bring him to me and we'll see what can be done.''
''Uh-huh. What about that person you spoke of earlier, the one who had the same condition. Did it get better for them?''
''A little. She learned to control it to some extent and even work through it, but to my knowledge still continues to suffer from it to this day. With enough hard work, anything can be done. You just have to believe it.''
''Very well. I'll have someone keep an eye on him. I can take the responsibility myself whenever I can, but I fear that is far and few between.''
She nodded. ''Be sure to give me updates on his condition every day. Even if his condition stays the same, I want to hear about it. If it gets worse, you know where to find me.''
''Will do. Thank you, healer. You've been a great help.''
''I'm just doing my duty as a sworn healer, dear leader. But you're welcome.''
With that, she left. Bron didn't move until she was well away to overhear anything that was to be said between him and Shorty. Privacy would be needed and he knew that Shorty would likely speak more openly if it was just them.
''Shorty? Will you come over here, please? We need to talk.''
Shorty did as he asked, but not very keenly. Bron dismissed it and said, ''How are you holding up, kid?''
It was a stupid question, but one he had to ask.
''I'm not sure,'' Shorty said. ''I think I'm not as shocked as I was before, but it still doesn't feel right.''
''I wouldn't expect you to. It will take some time to get used to this, but we'll handle it. You don't have to be afraid.''
''I'm not afraid! I just don't know what to think anymore!''
Shorty's tone took him off guard. He had never seen him like this and it unnerved him a little.
Shorty sighed. ''Sorry. I'm just so tired of hearing the same words again and again. That it will be okay, things will get easier. Well, they don't feel like it. It doesn't help that everyone out there thinks I'm a freak.''
''I don't think you're a freak. Neither does the healer.''
''You two are the only exceptions,'' Shorty said. ''You think I like when people say those awful things behind my back? You think I can just close my mind from it and it will be fine? I just want it to end.''
''I know it's hard, Shorty. This condition is not easy to life with, but I promise you this, one way or another we will make things better again.''
''There you go again with that 'It's going to be fine. You'll see' talk. For all we know I will never be rid of this illness. I heard every word the old healer said. Don't try to hide it from me.''
Just what he'd been afraid of. The kid was more bright than people gave him credit for. He had to find a way to salvage the situation and placate Shorty. Failure could mean that the condition was triggered again, which he did not want.
''Then you understand what must be done. I will not leave you to deal with this by yourself. On that you have my word and don't I always keep it? Maybe once you're better again, the others will see you for who you truly are.''
''Don't you dare give me that excuse! You and I both know that I've never had a place in this herd, despite what you say. Even the kids I just played with won't look at me anymore! They all see me as an abomination!''
''Shorty, please,'' Bron pleaded. ''You must not talk like that. Everything that will have to be done is for your own good. You have to see that.''
''Maybe I don't deserve help! I'm just a freak who has but a distant guardian that doesn't even give him the time of the day to see him! I'm done with being ridiculed and hearing the same words every single day! I will not hear it any longer!''
''Shorty,'' Bron started, but his pleas failed to be heard.
''Just leave this poor freak alone and go do your leader duties! It's all you think about anyway!''
Shorty disappeared into the night before he had a chance to explain himself. Bron wanted to follow after him, but knew it was best to leave it be for now. It wouldn't do either of them any good to get any more riled up today. What both of them needed was some peace and quiet and time away from each other.
Come tomorrow, both of them would be composed and they'd laugh about it later until their bellies hurt. While the kid was a handful, he really did love him. That night was the first one in a long time did Bron sleep alone, and he couldn't shake off the feeling that it was wrong.
Three days passed and it marked the third day in row that Shorty had not spoken a word to Bron. The events that took place continued to haunt him. So much had changed and none of it was good. He knew that it was his fault. He was the one to instigate the delicate situation by placing blame on someone who had nothing to do with his condition.
That word only made him angrier, but it was mostly placed on himself rather than anyone else. He had been cursed with something beyond his control, something that couldn't be helped. And he had likely driven away the only help he would ever get.
People had been correct from the very beginning. There really was something wrong with him. It had taken this long to accept it. He did not care. All that mattered to him now was how to fix this mistake.
And the only way that would happen was if he apologized. Both of them would have had more than enough time to cool off after the big argument, but still Shorty liked to postpone it as long as he could. What was he so afraid of? The reaction he would receive?
It was exactly that. But when the fourth day rolled in, they finally met again. It hadn't gone like Shorty had planned. To him it was like another day, but for some reason it felt different. More bright. It felt weird to say it, but he felt like another person at the time. So it was because of that he'd decided to have some innocent fun.
Only it turned out to be not as innocent as he'd thought. Shorty didn't recognize him, most likely he was a new arrival, but when he saw this brittle looking longneck it seemed like the perfect opportunity. It made him think back to the day when he'd been playing with the children, before any friendships he'd forged were annulled.
Bust most of all, he cursed that traitorous worm he had considered to be a friend, Seraph. She was the one who had revealed his condition to the rest in the group. When he had tried to talk to Juro and the others the next day, Seraph had quickly put a stop to it with,
''We don't play with freaks.''Right after that, he had walked off, giving up any chance he could convince them to change their minds. But then Seraph said something that instantly made his blood boil.
''That Willow was right about that one. Shortsy… what a brilliant nickname for a freak.''It was no surprise why Seraph had seemed hostile. It was because she already knew of him before they'd officially met, and apparently had already made her opinion of him. Over the next few days he heard more rumors about him. About how he had almost killed another kid for no reason at all.
But this particular longneck was no Buck, Willow or Seraph. He seemed just as eager to explore as Shorty had been. Perhaps they shared more than...
No. He was done trying to fit in with them. If the world only saw him as a freak of nature why not just give them what they saw? It was easier than pretending to be something you weren't. So, instead of being the one to be mocked, he decided to be the one doing it this time and tripped him when he wasn't looking.
Sure, it must have taken him by surprise and maybe got even little hurt, but no way did it hurt as much as he pretended. It had not stopped him from screaming bloody murder.
''You tripped me!''
''Did not!''
''Did too!''
Neither of them were in any mood to call it quits. When the boy got right in his face, Shorty pushed back.
''Wanna do something about it-''
''Shorty? Shorty, what's going on?''
Bron had the annoying tendency to pop into existence from out of nowhere. Shorty cursed his bad luck. Once more fate was working against him like clockwork.
Not wanting to admit he was the one to instigate the fight, Shorty made up something in his mind that wouldn't look bad on him. He held up his tail as if in pain. ''Ow! He stepped on my tail! On purpose!''
Bron humored him. ''Who did?''
He pointed at the boy. ''Him!''
''Him? The one you tripped?''
''Yeah, he- I mean no! I didn't trip him!''
He knew it was too late to try and spin the story around. He'd been caught in the lie and it was only a matter of time until Bron called him out for it.
''Shorty, come on, It's me. Now give me the truth.''
If only he'd been more careful of his surroundings, he might not even be in this mess now. Alas, his bad luck continued to haunt him. He knew he would not be allowed to leave until he'd told the truth. Out of options, out of time.
''Okay. I tripped him.''
''So what do you say now?''
Curse him for making him do this. Shorty turned to the boy, already loathing the words that would come out.
''Sorry.''
''It's okay,'' the boy said and Shorty took that as his cue to leave. He did not see Bron or the boy for the rest of the day or even the day after that. Fed up, he forced himself to go look for Bron the next day so they could finally make up and start anew. The adult had disappeared off the face of the earth, and not even his deputies knew where exactly he was.
To his surprise, it didn't take long to find him. There he was, running across the field with that boy right on his tail. What exactly had happened between them once he had left that would make them behave like this? His curiosity got the better of him and he asked a passer-by if they knew anything about it.
It was an older longneck, probably well past his prime that gave him an answer. ''Why, that there is my grandson spending time with his father. Can you believe it? After all this time they're finally reunited.''
Shorty now knew everything he needed. The way they had been behaving around each other and the reason why he had not seen a glimpse of Bron for days. It was because they knew each other, because they were family. He recalled Bron mentioning something about his former family, but could not recall what he'd said.
Then it clicked. Now that he had his son back, he didn't have time for him anymore. Bron had not come to seek him out for two days because he was too busy with his real son. He began to feel a nagging emotion deep inside him, taking hold of him.
Betrayal. From the one he considered to be the closest thing to a family he had these days. The elder noticed his discomfort, bent down to his level and said, ''Are you feeling okay, little one?''
Those same damn words he did not want to hear ever again. He glared at the elder. Taken aback, he hastily backed away. The action surprised even Shorty himself, but he didn't care. He ran until his legs couldn't carry him anymore. But that hadn't been the end of it.
As days passed by, he started to see them more frequently. Each time it happened, his anger continued to grow. First it was focused mainly on Bron, but it eventually transferred to the boy, Littlefoot. It was an odd name, especially for their kind and it made Shorty wonder whether he'd been bullied because of it. Part of him took delight in that, to see him put down a peg.
He had stayed as far as he could from either of them and for a time it worked like a charm. That hadn't stopped Littlefoot from trying to make peace with him. He didn't want to make peace with the annoying little git, but that only made him try harder to get his attention.
''Hey, Shorty!''
What good mood he'd had before Littlefoot showed up evaporated once he saw him. He sent a rock flying in his direction, trying to hit him in the head and knock some sense into that flat head of his. Littlefoot ducked and the rock flew out of sight.
''Hey! Nice hit!''
Shorty hoped the rock would have been enough of a hint that he wanted to be left alone, but perhaps he had overestimated the git's ability to think for himself. Not paying him any mind, he returned to what he'd been doing.
''You know, any time you wanna be with my dad and me-''
''Listen pal,'' Shorty paused and faced him. ''I can be with Bron anytime I want to. You got that? I know him better than you.''
''Well, I-''
''Yeah! And he likes me better!''
''Oh, yeah? Well, he's
my dad!''
There was the reaction he'd wanted. Shorty threw another rock, but this time it found its mark. Littlefoot cried out.
''Ow! That hurt!''
''Wanna do something about it?''
But Littlefoot didn't take the obvious bait. He turned and walked off. ''No thanks.''
''That's what I thought,'' Shorty ran after him. ''Coward! Baby!''
What he did not expect to see on the other side of the steep hill was Bron. He looked to be disappointed. Once again he managed to make him feel like the scum of the world. Too much was too much, and Shorty didn't wait around. He returned to the pool with his tail between his legs. They did not follow him or call out to him. They simply left, leaving him there alone.
That had been the final straw. After that day he decided that enough was enough. He was done trying to make a difference. So it was with that he knew it was best to leave the following night. No one would miss him, no one would need him. Once he was sure that everyone around him had fallen asleep, he started to carefully tip-toe around the sleeping forms.
He did not want to even accidentally step on someone and risk awakening them. He made sure to avoid brushing up against anyone, for the fear that they might wake up. From the sound of it, most if not all were heavy sleepers. Trying to maneuver around wasn't as easy as he'd thought. More than once he almost tripped on someone's tail or leg.
He made it to the other side without a hitch. Perfect. Everything was going according to plan. Come dawn he would be far away from this place and starting a new life out in the wilderness. He took one last look at the life he'd had, forced his body to obey his commands and never looked back again. He was afraid that if he allowed himself a second glance, he would never be able to tear his eyes away.
''Shorty! Hey, Shorty!''
The voice carried over the wind and he recognized it even before turning around. There was no mistaking that voice. It had plagued him for many days now.
''Oh. It's you.''
''Yeah. It's me,'' Littlefoot said. ''Where are you going?''
''What's it to you?''
''Well, it's just that… it's still kinda dark and you're out here all alone. My dad probably wouldn't like it.''
''Oh, right,'' Shorty scoffed. ''Like he'd care. Now that he's found you, he'll ignore me like everybody else.''
He turned to the other direction. He would rather be anywhere but here, stuck with the most annoying git in the world. But Littlefoot stood in front of him, not moving a muscle.
''Shorty, you'll always be special to Bron. You've known him all your life. Well… almost. I just met him.''
Part of him wanted to remove the petty obstacle from his path, but another part couldn't help but listen to what he had to say.
''You know, it might sound silly, but in a way, I feel jealous of you.''
He gaped at Littlefoot. ''You? Jealous of me? Is this a bad attempt at an bad joke?''
''No, no! Just… let me explain, please,'' Littlefoot looked at him pleadingly.
He wanted to deny him, but he was curious as to what he could have meant. Reluctantly, he nodded. ''You have 5 minutes to explain. Then I'm gone and you'll never see me again.''
''Thank you,'' Littlefoot began. ''It's just like I said. All this time I didn't even know I had a dad. I mean… of course I knew I had to have had one, but… you know what I mean, don't you?''
More than little embarrassed, Shorty nodded.
''Anyway, when I finally did learn of my dad and that he was still alive, it made me think of what I'd lost. My mother.''
Out of all the things he could have said to make his point, it was the last he expected to hear from Littlefoot. He swallowed hard and said, ''You lost your mother?''
His question was followed by a moment of silence. ''Long time ago, yes. Back when the great earthshake happened. I still blame myself for that, even to this day. You see, before it happened, I had snuck away from the nest to play with a hopper… when things took a turn for the worse.''
''The earthshake did not kill her, not really. Her death was caused by the most dangerous sharptooth I've ever seen. It all happened because of me. I never should have left the nest that night… everything went bad after that.''
Shorty did not say a word for a long time. What could he say to that? They had both lost someone very dear to them, but for Littlefoot it was twice as hard to get over. They'd survived, but at what cost?
''I-I lost my mother, too. On that same day.''
''You did? I mean… I'm sorry to hear that, Shorty.''
He sighed. His gaze never wavered from Littlefoot. ''You know what's the worst part? That because of my… condition, I fear I might lose my memories of her. With each passing day it's harder to remember things about her. She gave her life to save mine and I can't even hold on to her final wish.''
He had not cried for a long time, but he was now. He felt Littlefoot hug him warily at first, but when he wasn't pushed away, he melt into the embrace. Shorty realized he was crying, too.
''I've often thought about it, you know,'' Littlefoot said. ''How different would my life look had I just stayed put that night. My mother would probably still be alive and here with my family. But she's not. She's gone and nothing can change that. But even if she's not here, she'll always be with me. Your mother, too. We can't change the past, but maybe we can change the future, sort of.''
''What do you mean?''
''I wouldn't have made it this far had it not been for my friends,'' Littlefoot smiled. ''Without them I would be lost and the funny thing is that we didn't start out as the best of friends. There was a time when we could hardly stand each other. We fought, too. Well, more often than not with some.''
''But the reason we survived was not because of dumb luck or strength. But because we stayed together in the end. Yes, we have grown closer since then. The bond we share now is stronger than before.''
Littlefoot turned to him. ''Now that I've heard what you've been through, it made me think that how different would your life look had someone been there for you all this time. And that made me think that… well, I was kinda hoping-I thought maybe we could be like, you know, like brothers?''
If he'd been surprised to hear Littlefoot's history, this news made him doubt his hearing. But when he looked up and saw the encouraging smile upon Littlefoot's face, he knew it was the truth.
Treading carefully, Shorty said, ''You mean… like real brothers?''
''Well, as real as we can be. We both know what losing someone dear feels like. But we also know what finding someone you love feels like. Bron, in spite of not being your birth dad, might as well be a dad to you. And… I've always wanted a brother.''
''But the way I've treated you all this time… you would just forget that ever happened and move on?''
''Not really. But what reason is there to hate someone that doesn't deserve it? When I look at you I don't see a freak. I see you.''
Last of his mental barriers went down. Few moments passed, then Shorty smiled at Littlefoot and he returned it. ''Come on. Let's go back and maybe we don't have to explain to Bron what we were doing out here. At this time, no less.''
''Yeah, agreed,'' Littlefoot nodded. The Bright Circle was starting to creep up from behind the distant hills. If they didn't make it back to the herd soon, they'd be in a world of trouble.
Littlefoot stopped to watch. ''I think something's about to happen soon.''
''What makes you say that?''
''Don't you feel it?''
''Feel what, Littlefoot?''
''Shh! Just listen…''
He rolled his eyes, but gave him the benefit of the doubt. He strained to listen for anything that Littlefoot could have picked up, but he only heard the wind beating down at them. ''I don't hear anything.''
Something smacked the top of his head. It didn't feel like an inanimate object, so it had to be some kind of a small creature. He looked up and saw a brown flyer hovering in the air. Taken by surprise, he did the first thing that came to mind.
He screamed. The flyer screamed, too.
Shorty crouched behind a rock wall and waited for something to happen. He did not expect Littlefoot to greet the little rascal.
''Petrie! Where did you come from?''
''Littlefoot! Me knew that you! Me see you from far and me say 'that Littlefoot', but the others no believe me, so-''
''Others? The whole gang? Are they here too?''
Shorty watched the spectacle and slowly edged toward the two, curious as to who this mysterious flyer was and what he was doing here.
''Oh, sure! All here!''
By then he'd stopped beside the fallen flyer and looked him over. The flyer, Petrie, snapped out of his stupor and turned to look at Shorty. He seemed just as clueless as Shorty.
The fact was not lost on Littlefoot. ''Oh, Petrie. This is Shorty. Shorty, this is one of my good friends, Petrie.''
''Uhm… nice to meet you?''
''Same,'' was all Petrie said before he turned to Littlefoot again. Shorty realized his curiosity with him might have spooked him, so he backed away to a fair distance, giving him room to breathe.
''Petrie, you said the others were here. Where exactly are they? I don't see them with you?''
''They be here real soon. Me left to scout the area, to find Littlefoot. And found you Petrie did!''
The ground trembled at their feet, rocking them to and fro. Petrie took it as a sign and said, ''That be them now!''
''Uh-huh. Are you travelling with an adult by any chance?''
Petrie seemed confused at his question. ''Well, yeah. We travel with Pat, he be a nice longneck we met on the way.''
The thumping grew louder and stopped once the person doing that stepped into their view. It wasn't an longneck like Petrie had said it was. The thing that came from around the corner was a sharptooth, hungry and very angry by the looks of it. And it was looking right at them.
Petrie broke the silence with, ''That not them!''
Bron woke up during the night more than once, but would always fall back asleep once he made sure that Littlefoot was snoring softly beside him. Grandpa and Grandma longneck had made sure to relate all of his son's past adventures when it came to sneaking out once the dusk set. It had been a lot to take in at first, but all of them had laughed about it once comparisons were made between Littlefoot and him as a young, adventurous child.
So he was more than little surprised to see him right where he was supposed to be. He was relieved that his presence after all these years was enough to control more of his impulsive actions. But thinking about his son brought up something else.
Shorty. He could not forget the looks the young longneck had been throwing in his direction ever since he discovered that he and Littlefoot were related. Day after day he'd always make time for Littlefoot, but when it came to Shorty, he had done nothing.
Bron looked up to the sky, wondering where exactly he had made a vital mistake. Despite their argument, the last thing he wanted was for Shorty to be alone. Dawn was fast approaching and if he were to go back to sleep right now, he could still catch a few winks before had to get up and start the day.
Ever careful not to arouse his son, he ever so slowly lowered his neck back to its former position and closed his eyes. But then snapped them open right away when he didn't feel a presence beside him.
Sure enough, there was only an empty spot now where Littlefoot had been sound asleep moments before. Any and all fatigue faded immediately and he was wide awake by the time he got to his feet. Something about this felt very, very wrong.
Roar cut through the morning air, leaving an ugly stench in its wake. Bron's attention was on the other side of the valley where it had come from. The sound caused some sleeping forms to rouse from their slumber, while others turned to their other side and continued to snore. Those that did wake up, however, looked around in puzzlement.
Some of those now awake happened to be his deputies. Arlo, awake as ever lumbered over to him. ''Leader, you don't think..''
''It is,'' Bron said before he galloped away, causing dirt and dust to fly about the place. Arlo, true to his vow, quickly woke up the rest in an instant. He commanded them to their feet, but in their groggy state they did not manage much. It still amazed Bron how Arlo had not even considered to question his judgment before he'd acted. He'd definitely made the right choice with him.
It would take Arlo some time to organize them into a group and prepare them for a fight, but Bron did not wait for them and left them behind to pursue the threat himself. Sharpeeth did not just announce their presence without a good reason, and this had the sound of an unmistakable call for a hunt.
Even if there was one more than one, Bron would manage. One against one was always generally better and this wouldn't be the first time he'd beaten one in single combat. He didn't really even need to beat them, but buy enough time for the others to get here to assist. The part that worried him was the sudden absence of Littlefoot and the appearance of the sharptooth. These two things could not be coincidental.
He came atop the wall in matter of seconds and there stood the coward he'd heard before. In the midst of it all, he could see Littlefoot. He'd been right then. His son had snuck away from the nest and now was in the middle of this mess. Bron promised the time to reprimand him would come, but not now.
There was no way was he going to make it down there in time, which meant he had to think of something else and fast. He found it in a form of a huge stone, large enough to cause some serious damage, but still light enough for him to throw all the way down. He wrapped his tail around the base and begun to push it down. All he had to do was get it moving down the wall, the momentum would provide the rest. Rooted deeply to the ground, Bron was still able to get it moving little by little.
The stone cracked and gave away. Bron pushed it down with all his might. It slid over the edge and begun to pick up speed, making awful lot of noise on the way down. The sharptooth, ever so oblivious of the approaching threat to its life, did not notice the stone until it almost hit him right in the head. It snarled and seemed confused.
''Up here, coward!''
Baring its crooked and dirty teeth at him, it finally looked up to where Bron was. While the stone had not finished the job, it sure did make the predator see red. Not giving the sharptooth the opening, Bron charged at it.
The sharptooth charged as well, just what Bron had been hoping for. Let the idiot take the bait while he took care of the problem. Just before they clashed, Bron ducked and used his tail to trip the foul beast. It worked and the beast went down, looking dazed. It got up faster than Bron would have liked and delivered a deep bite to his leg. Bron screamed and tried to push it off, but it stubbornly held on.
Suddenly, it let go and tumbled down the steep wall. He saw another longneck, much older and feeble looking than he, appear out of nowhere. He nodded to the elder and said, ''Thanks, stranger.''
''Don't mention it,'' the elder nodded back at him and started to the top of the wall. Bron took a peek at the fallen predator. It did not move, neither did it seem to be breathing. A blow like that wouldn't have killed, but temporarily destabilized. Chances were it was still alive, albeit out cold. Better to get out while they still could and wait for backup to arrive.
''Littlefoot? Where are you?''
''Dad!''
His son came at him, full speed ahead. Bron did not mind that he was slightly causing his leg more pain when they met and the kid hugged his injured leg. Littlefoot noticed his discomfort and backed away. ''Oh! I'm sorry, dad! I didn't mean to!''
Bron did not see a reason to be angry with him right now. ''Don't worry, Littlefoot. What matters is that you're okay. However, we should go. We're not safe with that thing still here. My foot may also need some help.''
Littlefoot nodded in agreement. His leg did look pretty bad. The bastard had done a number on it and more time wasted here meant less trying to heal it.
''Littlefoot, there's something important I must ask. Do you know where Shorty might be? I have not seen him for days and if he was out here when that sharptooth-''
''No need to worry, dad. Shorty's been with us all this time. Look, there he is!''
He looked where Littlefoot had pointed and there was the familiar sight of the green longneck. Seeing him up there in safety was a blessing.
''Were there more of you out here?''
''Oh, right. My friends. They're right over there with Shorty and Pat, the longneck that helped you.''
How he had missed them he did not know, but was glad to see that everyone was okay. What surprised him was that aside from Shorty and Pat, they were all different species. Swimmer, flyer, spiketail and even a threehorn. Bron had forgot to ask Littlefoot of any friends he'd made when they'd been together, it had completely slipped his mind.
Not that he was against the idea of different kinds being friends with each other. He wasn't as prejudiced as his grandparents had been growing up. All that mattered to him was that they treated Littlefoot well. His son's happiness would always come before his own.
They reached the top of the wall soon after Pat and the children. By then Arlo and the rest of herd had started to gather around them, taking care to keep an eye out for anything that might take them by surprise. Bron went directly to Arlo, but once the deputy saw his wound, he immediately called the healer.
The wound wasn't as serious as he'd thought, but it still hurt like hell when he moved it, much to the displeasure of the healer. The inspection lasted only a short while before the healer decreed he should stay off his feet for the remainder of the day. Not wanting to annoy her, Bron did as she ordered.
Arlo came up to him after the healer had done her duty and left them. ''Leader, we have a situation.''
''What is it?''
''We now have not one, not two, but three very angry and hungry sharpteeth on our land. They probably heard all the commotion and thought there to be an easy meal to sink their teeth into,'' he smiled. ''Only the poor buggers did not realize just how many of us were here.''
''How's it looking down there?''
''So far so good. My people are busy trying to clean up the place from the filth and we expect it to be done soon. They may be big and strong, but so are we and we have the numbers. So far they've been content with staying in the background and trying to pick us off one by one. With your blessing I would like to ask that we simply remove them here and now and spare us the trouble.''
''Very well. Just take it easy and don't get cocky. We might have the superior numbers, but even one wounded sharptooth is still dangerous. Keep me updated if the situation changes or if more should appear. You got all that?''
''Loud and clear, leader,'' Arlo walked away, issuing orders as he went.
Bron sighed. ''Now if you all please excuse me, I think I need to go lay down for a while. My leg is killing me,'' he turned to Littlefoot. ''Son, would you mind accompanying me to the nest? I believe we need to talk about your little… escapade.''
The once happy smile turned into an ashamed and knowing frown. Despite the situation, Bron shook his head and chuckled. ''I won't talk your ear off, but you do need to hear everything I have to say.''
''Okay, dad.''
''One last thing,'' Bron gestured towards Shorty who was standing with Pat and the other children, watching the herd battle the sharpeeth below. ''Could you get him for me, please? This concerns him, too.''
Shorty followed after Bron and Littlefoot. Whatever reason he had for separating them from the herd remained to be seen, but he had his suspicions. But he did not understand why it had to be done right now when there were three sharpeeth lurking about.
Bron's words still rang in his head when he had questioned why they had to leave then and there. It is not our concern, Shorty.
It was all he'd said to either of them since leaving the others behind to deal with the sharpooth problem, yet it felt like he was saying it to reassure himself that he was doing the right thing. Soon they came upon the sight of the abandoned nest and watched Bron almost immediately lay down to rest.
He'd heard the healer say something about keeping weight off the bad leg for now, but it looked like even the short journey here had not done it any good. Bron had never been one to care much of small injuries if they didn't have an impact on his daily functions. He tried to hide his obvious discomfort from him and Littlefoot, but that didn't work out as Littlefoot watched his father with growing concern.
''Dad, how's the leg?''
''Uh-huh… I'd say pretty good. It could be a lot worse, though. No need to worry about my health, son.''
That was Bron. He was always looking out for others even if his own well-being suffered. Shorty had always admired that part of him. Littefoot nodded, but didn't seem entirely convinced. Bron gave him a slight nuzzle on the head. It worked and Littlefoot brightened up.
''So,'' Shorty began. ''Why did you call us here?''
''I brought you here because there's a lot we need to talk about. To clear the air around us.'' Bron looked at both of them, intent. His gaze lingered on Shorty a bit longer than was necessary, but he shrugged it off as concern.
''But first I want both of you to answer one question. What were you doing outside the walls? You know it is forbidden to leave, especially without adult supervision.''
It was a question Shorty didn't want answered. Littlefoot, however, didn't hesitate. ''I don't know what Shorty was doing there at the time, but I saw him leave and it got me curious and little worried. I went after him, we talked and came back. That's when the sharptooth arrived and… you know the rest.''
Littlefoot gave an apologetic look to Shorty. The truth was going to come out one way or another, so what was the point in trying to hide it? He nodded slightly at him, reassuring it was fine with him.
''Why didn't you wake me up and tell me what was going on, Littlefoot? That would have been the smart and right thing to do. Instead, you risked your own life.''
''I don't know, dad. Guess I wasn't thinking clearly at the time,'' Littlefoot looked to be ashamed.
''Obviously. If you were, you wouldn't have done such a reckless move. I'm very disappointed in you, son.''
Littlefoot did not say anything. They all knew how wrong they were, even if done for the right reason. Bron turned to Shorty. ''As for you, Shorty, what were you doing out there alone after dark?''
There was the dreaded question. He could always try to lie his way through, but what kind of a message would that send? Even if Bron would believe, which was very unlikely, Littlefoot wouldn't stand for it.
He swallowed the lump in his throat. ''I was out there because… I was going to leave. Leave and never come back, that is,'' he turned to Littlefoot. ''But Littlefoot… he came to stop me from leaving. It's my fault he was there in the first place. If I hadn't-''
''Stop.''
He stopped. Afraid to look at Bron, Shorty waited for the angry and disappointed words to come, but they never did. Finally, he raised his head. Bron wasn't even looking at him. In fact, he seemed to stare at nothing in particular.
Bron's gaze returned on him. He didn't say anything for a while, just continued to watch him in silence. Then he said, ''I was afraid this might happen. My fears turned out to be true.''
Shorty could not believe his ears. Had he even heard that right? Had Bron really been worried of him running away one day? Bron rounded up on him and said, ''Shorty, can you give us a minute? I need to talk to Littlefoot about something. I'll call for you when it is time.''
Not questioning his request, they watched as he disappeared from sight and only when he was gone did they start talking again. Shorty sat down, waiting for them to be finished. It happened far sooner than he'd thought. He was in the middle of thinking what he was going to say when Littlefoot came for him.
Bron was still in the same place as when he'd left. He hadn't moved at all since their conversation had started, and for a good reason. Littlefoot placed himself beside his father. Shorty took his place in the exact spot where he'd been a moment ago.
''Littlefoot has told me many things, Shorty,'' Bron started. ''But I would like to hear them from you, too.''
Shorty sighed. ''Okay. I'm ready.''
''First, I would like to know what could possess you to think it was okay to leave the herd like that. Had Littlefoot not come after you, we probably wouldn't have seen you again.''
It was time to tell the truth. He swallowed and began. ''I felt trapped. Like I had no place among the herd anymore. I thought it would be better for me to just disappear, like I had never been there in the first place. Everything and everyone continued to push down at me. Eventually it was impossible to ignore… with my condition and all that. It just… fell apart.''
Bron frowned while Littlefoot looked to be sorry. They did not say a word, so Shorty thought best to continue.
''Everyone around me have always seen me as different. Not one of them,'' he looked at Bron, then Littlefoot. ''Everyone except you two. But when I saw how much fun you were having without me, it felt like betrayal. Like you didn't want me around anymore. You hardly even acknowledged me so what was I to think? That it would pass? That everything would go back to the way it was?''
Shaking his head, Shorty said, ''I felt like everyone was against me. That everyone was blaming me for something I had no control over. I couldn't handle it. Which is why I decided that if no one truly wanted me here, then I was better off out there by myself. It's not like I haven't seen it before…''
There were no more words he could say. He had said his piece and now it was time to see how it would go from here. There was nothing but silence for a long time before Bron said, ''I never realized how much it hurt you, Shorty. The fault is partially mine, for I did not heed the warning signs. Because of that it almost ended up costing me more than it already had.''
''There's no excuse for what I've done and I will carry the shame of it with me to the grave. I know it's not a good reason or even an excuse for my actions, but when the person I thought to have lost so long ago suddenly stood in front of me, it felt like nothing else in the world mattered.''
Bron shook his head. ''I see now what a horrible mistake that was. Just because I got my son back did not mean I had to abandon the one who had been like a son to me from the start,'' he smiled. ''It is curious how one so small can see so much. Whereas someone like me, despite being big, can see so little.''
It was then that Littlefoot spoke for the first time. ''My grandparents always say that while all of us make mistakes, we can always come back from them if we so wish.''
''Uh-huh. They were always more into teachings of life and wisdom than I was,'' Bron smiled sadly. ''Just like your mother. She could always see the best in everyone.''
All of them laughed. It was the best feeling Shorty had felt in a long time. To finally know that you belonged in some place. He could not think another feeling like it in the world, and for one moment he felt like the luckiest longneck to ever walk the world.
The sky blew in a brilliant shade of violet. Bright flashes of light flew in every direction. None of them had noticed how quickly the weather seemed to shift and yet it felt like it hadn't. It was beautiful, but disorienting to watch. His eyes hurt when he looked at the center of it all. It was by far the weirdest thing he'd seen, for it looked like the Bright and Night circles were almost starting to combine with one another.
''What the-what is that?'' They heard Littlefoot's question, but didn't react aside from exchanging looks of utter amazement. Shorty finally managed to say, ''I don't know, but it's definitely not normal.''
Bron hummed in agreement, then said, ''Whatever is going on out there must be important.'' He got up. Littlefoot reacted right away.
''Dad, you shouldn't be on your feet right now. Remember what the healer-''
''I know, but this is too important to pass. Will you two accompany me?''
They bobbed their heads in unison, just as curious to learn what was going on. The journey back to the wall was spend in total silence. All three of them keen to watch the phenomenon on the sky. It was over by the time they made it back to the wall. That day, every single soul in the valley could agree on one thing; they had witnessed something extraordinary.
It had been only one day since the strange event had taken place and people had more things to say about it every hour. Questions that no one could answer. For Bron, this had been a nightmare. More than once was he disturbed by wary individuals and he was starting to get tired of it.
They should have been grateful that whatever caused the sky to act like that had scared the sharpeeth away before it was even over. He'd known them to be cowards all his life, but in a strange way he could understand them, even if just a little.
But that was something he was not going to admit to anyone. Not even his own family. Luckily for him, he was entirely occupied with one question to himself: where was the herd supposed to go now?
This land, while fertile and relatively safe, wasn't going to last. Everyone feared the sharpeeth would return once they gathered their courage and may even bring backup for all the trouble they'd faced before. While the longnecks would still likely outnumber them, it was a chance no one wanted to take.
Bron surveyed his surroundings. While most herds had only started the day, many preferred to be on the move as soon as possible. In every group he passed there were those that would not stop talking about the odd phenomenon like it was some kind of a sign.
Many, him included, thought that was nothing but baloney while others believed it to be the truth. Bron himself had never been one to believe in the supernatural, but this time he was forced to accept that maybe there were things in the world they were not supposed to understand.
He saw Grandpa and Grandma longneck make their way to him. He greeted them warmly and they returned it. ''You know,'' started Grandpa. ''If I wasn't here to see it, I would never have believed the person who claimed to have seen it with their own eyes.''
''It certainly was something extraordinary,'' agreed Grandma. ''I've never heard or seen such a thing in my life before. It reminds me of an old tale my mother used to tell when we were kids. Apparently it had been passed down from parent to child for generations.''
''You think this may have had something to do with that old tale?''
Grandma shrugged at his question. ''It is possible. In it she spoke about a great abomination coming down to destroy everything in its path. But a brave group of longnecks were called upon to stop the evil. Do not take my word for it, but I think it might have had something to do with the Bright and Night circles.''
''Well, in that case I think we just stopped a great evil from invading this land, didn't we?'' Grandpa fooled around. Bron and Grandma laughed it off.
Bron cleared his throat, getting their attention. ''Are you two busy with anything right now? There was something I wanted to ask of you. It has to do with Littlefoot.''
''Not at all. We were just about to have one final look around the place. It is highly unlikely we will set another foot in this land again.''
It was Grandpa who said it, but his mate stood by his words.
''I'm sure you have noticed that Littlefoot and I have been spending a lot of time together recently. Now that I've found him again, I don't ever want to lose him. Which is why I have to ask if it was possible for him to come with me. I want to be there for my child.''
Their eyes widened. They clearly had not expected this question to come up so soon. Grandpa said, ''Well… I'd be lying if I said we didn't see this coming. We do not blame you for wanting to be with him. That's what we want, too,'' Grandma nodded along with him.
''But that would mean we wouldn't see him for a long time,'' Grandpa looked away, his eyes found Littlefoot in the mess of bodies. ''We have raised that child ever since that horrible day. To lose him like this, it would be beyond painful.''
''You wouldn't be losing him,'' Bron said. ''He would still be free to visit you from time to time. When our herd would be close by to the Great Valley, that is.''
''True, but that wouldn't be for a while,'' They looked at him sadly and this time it was Grandma who said, ''Separating from Littlefoot is something we thought wouldn't have come up before it was our time to depart to the beyond. But it is not our place to say what should be done. You're his father, but I think we should hear what Littlefoot thinks. It's going to affect him the most, after all.''
He could agree with that. ''Yes. It crossed my mind, too.''
''Glad we understand each other,'' Grandpa said. They saw Littlefoot make his way over to them. He received a brief, but almost unnoticeable nod from both of them.
''Okay, then,'' was all he said before he left them.
When Littlefoot was right beside him, he turned to him and said, ''Good job you did yesterday, big guy.''
''Thanks, dad. You too.''
Littlefoot then went over to Grandpa and Grandma. They both nuzzled him lovingly and long, few tears escaped from Grandma's eyes. Then they stepped away and left father and son alone.
It was just them now. Bron lowered his neck down and said, ''Are you okay, son?''
''Yeah,'' was all Littlefoot said, but Bron could see he didn't feel like it.
No better time than the present, Bron thought. ''I'm sure you knew this was going to come up sooner or later. But I wished to do this now, so you know all your options.''
Littlefoot sighed. ''But I already know, dad. It's either to stay with my grandparents or go with you, right? Part of me knew it was going to end like this, but now that the time is here… I'm not so sure anymore.''
Bron did not say a word, he let Littlefoot continue uninterrupted. ''I've been thinking about this a lot. I really wanna go live with you.''
''Well, that's great!'' Bron exclaimed; ''I can't wait to introduce you to the herd. I've always told them I had a son somewhere. I just can't wait to see their-''
''But I can't.''
Bron's enthusiasm died. ''What? What do you mean by that? Of course you can!''
''Grandma and Grandpa really need me. I need them, too. And my friends. You see, they came all this way just to find me. I'm just not ready to leave them yet.''
''But, Littlefoot, I… can't just leave my herd. They depend on me. I'm their leader.''
''I know,'' Littlefoot said. He looked behind him where Shorty stood watching at a fair distance. ''For some of them, you're even more than that.''
''Yes,'' Bron said. ''I know.''
It was silent for a moment or two, then Littlefoot said, ''I'm really happy I finally found you. And when I'm older, we can have some more adventures together. Can't we?''
Bron nodded. ''Count on it. Hey, who knows? One of these days I might drag my whole herd over to the Great Valley for a visit.''
He nuzzled Littlefoot. ''I love you, son.''
''I love you, too.''
Littlefoot started to leave, but then turned around. ''Do you remember what we spoke about earlier? About Shorty?''
''How could I forget?''
''Then… you know what you must do, right?''
Bron gave a nod. ''I do. I'm going to do what I should have done a long time ago,'' he smiled. ''Thank you for making this foolish old longneck see that.''
Littlefoot guffawed. ''You're welcome. We all need little guidance every now and then, don't we?''
''That we do,'' Bron agreed.
''Well, I guess this is a goodbye, for now,'' Littlefoot said, frowning.
''Every goodbye is just another hello for later, Littlefoot,'' Bron winked.
They both laughed. Bron watched as Littlefoot went over to his grandparents. He didn't hear what they were saying, but they looked happy to hear the news. They bent down and nuzzled Littlefoot. He replicated the gestures with joy.
With one final glance exchanged between father and son, it was Bron's time to leave. Actually, it was about the time for the whole herd to move out as he saw Arlo point out from the distance, impatient to get on the move.
He only gave a brief nod to his deputy, an unspoken order to get moving without him leading. His order was acknowledged and done before long. He spied Shorty making his way along with the rest of the herd. With an idea in mind, Bron snatched him up on his head and said, ''Hey, Shorty, want a lift?''
''Woah! Hey! What's the big deal?''
''What? Don't tell me you don't like to ride, kiddo. We both know that's not true,'' Their guffaws filled the entire chatter of the herd, some paused to look at them. Neither of them noticed anything out of the ordinary.
It lasted only a short while, but both were happy for the chance to cut back and enjoy the little things in life. Then, Bron's tone grew serious. ''There's still a lot we need to talk about, Shorty. About you and me, most of all.''
''Oh,'' Shorty said, not catching on. ''About what?''
''About what kind of a life we can expect to live together as a family.''
The words he had been avoiding all this time, but the words he had wanted to say for a long time were finally out. No more hiding, no more running. Shorty seemed surprised by it, and said, ''Family?''
''After everything we've been through, it would be impossible to think us as anything but that, Shorty,'' Bron said. ''I didn't want to see it before, but now I have no choice but to face it. Ever since that day we first met long ago, we've shared something neither of us have with anyone else. I was an idiot, Shorty. I didn't listen to you when I should have. It is selfish of me, I know, but if it's not too late to ask, can you give this idiot a second chance? To make things right, to start over?''
Shorty did not say anything for a while. He didn't need to, as at that moment he lightly slapped Bron's head with his foot, grinning from ear to ear. ''Uh-huh… let me think about that. How about… yeah?''
Damn child was playing with him, just like old times. Bron smiled in delight. ''Thank you, Shorty. That means a lot to me.''
Bron didn't know where fate would take them. But as long as they were together, it would be fine. He felt happiness surge through him. It was a very long time ago had he felt like that. It was the best feeling you could have, and not to be taken for the granted. Life had not been easy for either of them, but they knew the worst was behind them. It was time to open up the next chapter in their lives.
They knew all was well in the world. It was a damn good time to be alive.
(Author's Note)There we have it, folks! The third and final chapter is finally out and this story is officially wrapped up now. I thought about separating the last chapter into two as it was already long, but I wanted to get this out of the way as soon as possible. I had a blast writing this and I think it turned out better than the prequel. However, I'm afraid that this will be the last
Land Before Time story you'll see from me for the time being as I want to experiment with other things, mainly other fandoms and trying my hand in original fiction. But not to worry, this does not mean I'll completely abandon writing LBT. I will just be taking a break from it.
Imaginary Sickness is the equivalent of Post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) in the Dinosaur world, which probably wasn't that hard to figure out from my comment in the previous chapter. I thought this would make the story more juicy if Shorty was forced to confront the part of his life he so desperately wished to forget. Please tell me whether I succeeded or not, because I always appreciate when people point out where I can improve my skills in. With that said, it is time to go over the reviews from the previous chapter. I wish you a very happy and safe summer! I'll be sure to enjoy the weather here for as long as I can, because it will not last.
OwlsCantRead: Crummy is definitely the word I would use to describe someone like Jewel. You could almost say that people like her don't care about anyone but themselves and in a way that is true as you've seen. A parent who loves their child would not resort to such brash behavior, which has shown that Jewel is unqualified to be a parent. You've clearly understood her character very well.
Rhombus: When I was writing the scene where the kids were playing and suddenly Shorty's deceased friend comes out of nowhere, I tried to imagine myself in that situation, not only with Shorty, but with Seraph as well. What would my reaction be like if I saw someone talking to a person that wasn't there? Probably not very good one and I'd be rightfully ill at ease. Not everyone will react the same way, but I feel like many would be just as perplexed as Seraph was. And as for the kids, like you saw in this chapter, it definitely hasn't raised their opinion of Shorty.
Sovereign: The problem I faced when writing the scene you spoke of was how to portray all of the characters in the scene. Jewel and her family were quite easy to plan, but when it came to Bron and the decision he would have to make it was a bit harder. I'm afraid you might have overlooked the issue here. The perpetrator in question was a child, so what would be a fitting punishment? Obviously I couldn't have had Bron punish him like he would an adult, so I had to choose from two options: either give no punishment at all or give one a parent might give to a misbehaving child. You can probably see why I went with the second one in the end.
Thank you for the reviews. They're always appreciated!
![:) :)](https://www.gangoffive.net/Smileys/gof/smile.gif)