Shorty wouldn’t have noticed the kid if the light-gray-colored longneck hadn’t spotted him. Upon realizing who he was, the kid panicked and jumped out of their hideout, prepared to run if they needed to. Shorty jerked out of his gloomy thoughts upon seeing the trembling kid.

The green longneck didn’t even recognize them by name like so many dinosaurs who never bothered to care about him, prompting him to be mutual about it. Usually, he’d come up with a witty way to mock or harass the kid, but he didn’t quite feel like it today. Too heavy were the worries he carried with him, but perhaps some distraction could help him focus later. With this in mind, he opened his mouth to speak up.

“Whatcha’ doing?” he asked the timid longneck boy, who grew more panicked by the minute. Shorty immediately noticed the kid’s shaky knees. “Is this some kind of workout? What part of the body does it strengthen?”

As Shorty chatted casually, the sound of the kids' teeth clattering rang through the air at an increasing volume, even overtaking the screeches of the flyers who roamed the skies above. He knew very well why the child was trembling at the sight of him, but he did his best to address them without malice. Right now, he didn’t want to hurt the boy. He just wanted to chat, maybe play a game or two. But the child didn’t look like they were in any shape to talk or play.

“Sorry, did I interrupt you? What were you doing? Perhaps doing business down there?”

Shorty had to force himself not to laugh out loud. The comment slipped from his mouth out of habit before his brain could interrupt. Usually, he would have said stuff like this at the first opportunity. Only now, as the kid instinctively ducked even lower in his presence, it occurred to him that his question might come across as offensive. Then again, in the back of his mind, he already knew the foolishness of his attempt at peaceful communication with the child.

“N-n-n-n-no, I w-w-wasn’t d-d-doing t-that,” the kid stuttered, giving Shorty an even harder time staying serious. “H-h-hide and S-s-s-seek, y-y-you know?”

“Well, if you shake any harder, you might do business anyhow.”

Shorty couldn’t help but blurt it out, seeing tears pop out of the kid’s eyes as he ridiculed him. But Shorty didn’t do it on purpose, harassing the child instinctively. Like hatchlings who learned to walk without thinking about every step they took, he had learned to insult and mock others. Although he knew it was too late to fix his faux pas, he nonetheless made an offer.

“Hey, how about it? You let me play a few Hide and Seek games with you, and I won’t tell your friends you nearly made a mess? Do we have a deal?”

Unfortunately, the kid was already petrified in fear, unable to move his lips and limbs and trembling so hard that Shorty reckoned a mere breeze would be enough to push him over.

“I take that as a ‘yes’?” Shorty prompted, giving the boy just a little poke, which indeed tripped and fell him. The resulting eruption of hysterical cries quickly alerted whoever the boy was playing with. Before Shorty knew it, another longneck, pinker than healthy for a longneck, stormed into view, yelling as she did.

“Leave my dear Skitter alone, you bully!”

Shorty had never seen the girl before but couldn’t be bothered to correct her presumptuous accusations, for his point had already been proven.

“You can have him; I don’t need a loser who c-c-can’t t-t-talk p-p-p-properly.”

Shorty truly wasn’t in the mood to bully the kids around but didn’t like the thought of the girl having the last word over him. Thankfully, the newcomer didn’t seem interested in a fight, instead patching up the damage he had caused.

“Come, Skitter, don’t listen to this bully, let’s just play somewhere else…”

Right, that’s who I am — a bully.

Resigned, Shorty watched the two children retreat out of sight until he could no longer hear the pathetic chokes of the crying boy. Finally, an audible exhale left his throat. Somewhere deep down, he actually wanted to play.

*

“I try to be nice and play, but what do I get?!”

A juvenile tree was snapped clean into two as a green tail slammed into it and cut it like a blade. Shorty paid the dying tree no attention as he pressed forward to make room for the anger he harbored in his heart. While playing bully brought him great joy, it didn’t leave him satisfied. Today, he didn’t want to be a bully, yet others seemed to trust their prejudices more than the words he spoke and the messages they carried.

“It truly doesn’t matter, or does it?!” he yelled into the empty jungle after ensuring he was alone, for a stranger mocking him for his outburst would only contribute further to his terrible mood. “Whether being a bully or trying to be nice, others never offer what I truly want from them! Can’t they just do what I want them to?! Can’t they just fucking play along?!”

He had to take in a fresh breath of air before yelling louder than before.

“Can’t I just get it right just once?!”

Quite frankly, Shorty had enough of this. While he’d love to have someone to play games with, such a dinosaur didn’t exist - certainly not within his herd. Shorty hadn’t realized it for quite a while, although he was fully aware of it now. Unknowingly, he had built a reputation over the years that preceded him no matter where he went in these lands. Worried parents who swarmed around their offspring at the first mention of him, oblivious old farts who shunned him by default, and even the youngest of children who shouldn’t know better; it didn’t matter.

Everyone knew his name, and everyone only ever looked down on him rather than seeing his vast qualities as a longneck. They saw a pitiful kid no one wanted, a bitter loser, a rambunctious troublemaker, and a nuisance best to be avoided. No one knew he had feelings, too; no one considered what he had had to live through to become who he was. Just thinking about it made him furious. With no apparent outlet available, he pushed a nearby boulder across the muddy ground until shoving it tired the boy, leaving it far from its original position.

Once he caught his breath, he glanced grimly into the distance. Even if he tried to change his ways, others wouldn’t look at who he was but instead rummaged in their brains until they found the image of him they wanted to see. The little longnecks he didn’t even know were perhaps the best example. Quite likely, they had seen him for the first time today yet their initial reactions had been fearful and contemptuous. Frankly, it drove him mad.

The recognition of his strength filled Shorty with pride but left a taste much more bitter than the sweetness of victory on his tongue. He didn’t feel any happiness as he thought about it. The contradictions between the things he valued and those he desired were alarming, sending him on a spiraling path that never led to the results he wished for. Frankly, it was infuriating.

Regardless, Shorty felt like his point needed further validation. He really desired to play an ordinary game like an ordinary child today and would see to it that he could experience it, no matter the cost. If random strangers got petrified like a mountain at the mere sight of him, what about kids he knew? What about the insufferable hatchlings, for example? Those hatchlings he used to protect? Those hatchlings he particularly liked to bug when he was bored?

Like they’ll play with me… but what have I got to lose?

He knew his odds of succeeding, but he had to try nonetheless. Shorty had a rough idea of where they all lived and knew they often played together. A grim, borderline evil expression briefly flashed across his green face as a plan forged underneath the big bump on his head. If he couldn’t get to invite himself into a game of theirs by playing the nice guy, then he might as well stop trying and keep working on his reputation.

And if, for some reason, his quest failed entirely, he still had a plan B.

*

Although the dinosaurs he wanted to meet didn’t live too far away, it still took Shorty until noon to arrive in the general area where the children would most likely be playing or hanging out. These were arguably the busiest hours of the day, and Shorty knew better than to take the common pathways through the forest. While technically, there was no need to be secretive, Shorty still avoided populated areas and other herd members’ nesting areas, regardless of whether people were at home. He truly didn’t need disdainful glances and hissed insults to send his mood further plummeting today.

Besides, what reason did he have to hurry? The average day just kept on dragging on and on with nothing significant to do. Time passed awfully slowly, with nothing particular to do or particular events to look forward to other than finally growing up and becoming independent. He only ever had a schedule or appointments if Bron took care of that. Consequently, no amount of detours deterred him in any way as long as it spared him the trouble of running into folks he didn’t like.

Shorty began evaluating his chances of success while wading through a waist-deep, gentle-flowing brown soup of a creek that had flooded following a likely overnight rainstorm. The eight hatchlings he used to protect had grown into fine children now. By now, they were likely older than he had been when he started caring for them. As soon as he reached the other side, faint, distant laughter told him they were home today. Grimacing, he shook the water off his scales before following the laughter.

When he considered how they would always goof around with no worry in the world, he couldn’t help but feel envious of their carefree lives. Many years had gone into these lands, but Shorty still often caught himself remembering things he’d rather have forgotten from his early childhood — things that would make many a folk’s blood freeze in shock if he told them he’d seen and experienced them at such a young age. Shorty was accustomed to the trauma, but situations like these made him wonder…

Could he have been a carefree child, too, if things had gone a little differently?

Shorty suddenly had second thoughts about wanting to play with these kids. As he gradually got closer to their playgrounds, he spotted a group of adults who stood in a circle a little distance away, seemingly engaged in lively chit-chat. Their mere sight reminded him brutally of several reasons that led him to hate these kids with a deep passion. Had Shorty already grown to their size, he would immediately give them a piece of his mind. Unfortunately, they still towered above him tenfold, prompting him to brood silently over his misgivings.

If he looked at the bigger picture, he could only conclude that the eight females were the main culprits behind Shorty’s many setbacks in his recent life. When Bron had offered him and the hatchlings for formal adoption, they had taken them under their clutches, each of them adopting one of them. On the other hand, he had been left behind in the commissary care of Bron, who, thanks to his duties as a leader of their newfound herd, rarely had time to spare for him.

To this day, Shorty couldn’t fathom how anyone could decide to love a constantly crying hatchling that wasn’t even their own. Bron hadn’t been able to love him like that, even though he had been so far above them then. Why couldn’t there have been a ninth female taking him in, too, loving him just like a parent, encouraging him for the silliest nonsense he did…

Alas, neither of these females was interested in taking him in. Shorty reckoned his life could have seen significant changes, taking better directions. He may be a very different longneck today. Maybe he’d have friends instead of sending everyone running in fear; maybe he’d be popular rather than a hermit avoiding others; perhaps he’d even have a girlfriend looking up at him. As he thought about it, Shorty couldn’t help but wish for all these things, wished he didn’t have to play the tough guy to get any kind of recognition and attention.

He could have a very different life right now. Therefore, he was very passionate about holding that grudge, spitting in their general direction from a safe distance. He knew their decision wasn’t the only reason for being who he was today, but he felt too bitter to consider that his troubled past likely had a role to play, too. Regardless, he had more than one reason to hold them accountable, for they had not only offended him personally but denied their children knowledge, which was so crucial that it made his blood boil just thinking about it.

Shorty hated these little pests with a passion. The laughter the light breeze carried to his location instilled fury into his hurt heart. He wanted to laugh too and enjoy himself. They were adopted into families he could only dream of, enjoying their childhood while he was just waiting to outgrow his. Regardless of his deep hatred for these kids, he still deemed it unfair that nobody had ever told them.

They were all siblings. They didn’t know they were family.

Only Shorty and Bron knew about it, and Shorty knew that Bron had told them all about it, too. It couldn’t be a coincidence that they all ended up building their nests in close proximity, that they all decided to be buddy-buddy with each other, or that these kids always played among themselves.

When Shorty thought about it, it honestly made him sad. Siblings, for better or for worse, were something special. To withhold such crucial information from these kids was truly cruel. Even if he lost his memory today, he’d want someone to tell him he used to have siblings long ago. But that was a story he didn’t want to bring up right now.

One could argue that it was just as cruel of him not to tell them, and they would be right. Even Shorty couldn’t deny such a thing. He had tried telling them several times. They just wouldn’t believe him. Shorty had many reasons to feel hatred towards these kids, but the great ignorance of their ancestry truly tested his limits. They essentially denied him the credit for keeping them alive all this time, and Shorty did not appreciate being denied the credit he deserved.

Had he made a different decision back then, they wouldn’t be so carefree today and possibly not even alive, but how could they know about all of this? Child amnesia was scary; they had been too young to remember, just as he couldn’t remember his mother. However, that was also a story he’d rather not reminisce about right now.

Regardless, Shorty had played a vital part in their lives, and unless adequately credited for it, he would continue to exert revenge for their ignorance. However, today, he had different plans. Sighing after making sure the adults hadn’t noticed him, he followed the hearty sounds of laughter and chatter until he found the source.

Well, here goes nothing…

*

When Shorty broke through the foliage, he wasn’t surprised to see only seven kids; one of the eight was a bit more… unique and rarely hung around the others. His sudden entry was met with varying levels of shock, fear, and surprise on their faces, their laughter dying faster than he could blink at them. Shorty had already anticipated such a reaction. While slithering through the jungle earlier, he had prepared his mind for the conversation to come, lest it escalated too.

“Relax,” he said, wiping his mind clean of all his hatred and masking his disdain with a cloak of laid-backness. “I’m not here to trouble you. Today, I just wanna play a few games.”

Even though Shorty made his best effort to look unsuspecting and act honestly, his offer fell on deaf ears. A trio of three girls all wearing varied shades of subdued pink hues, were the first to recover. Shorty didn’t even remember their names, for they were of little interest. Though, back when he still led them around the deserts, he called those “the troublesome pinks” and he hadn’t been too far off with that name choice.

“Oh no, guys, look!” the first one shouted.

“It’s him!” the second one added dramatically.

“You know what that means?” the third girl prompted.

“Green loser alert!” they announced together as they shared brain cells, prompting everyone to shake out of shock and begin laughing.

The nerve…

Shorty could feel his brow twitching, but he knew better than to cause a scene where the adults were close enough to hear them cry if he made them.

“Ha ha, very funny,” he mused, attempting to keep his hatred in check. “I didn’t call you “troublesome pinks” for nothing when you were still soiling the nest, that’s for sure.”

Shorty couldn’t help hinting at these past times, but, just as always, they wouldn’t even give it a thought.

“Oh, you and your delusions again!” a kid in grayish color patterns complained, nudging his brother wearing the same colors but with dark and light tones inverted instead.

“Yeah, stop spilling nonsense that never happened, you freak!” his sibling added, nodding back at his brother.

“Go play hero somewhere else and stop giving us these weird nicknames; they’re not funny,” another boy in pale green demanded.

Oh, you little shits…

Shorty had expected things to fail, but he hadn’t expected that they would also begin to gang up on him when they were all together like that. As a matter of fact, he was on enemy territory, and these pests knew it. Whenever he caught any of them alone or far away from their parents' reach, they weren’t nearly as brave.

Stupid brats, don’t get cocky just because your mommies are around!

He wanted to lash out and smack their faces, but he knew that wouldn’t solve anything. If they didn't even give him a chance, he would use one of the comebacks he prepared for this occasion.

“So that’s a “no” from you? Not even some good ol’ Hide and Seek?” he prompted.

“Y-you’ll just shoot rocks at us again when we’re n-not looking!” the last of them, a completely white, rather skittish boy, accused. The entire group huddled together and resolutely nodded at that statement.

“Yeah, like I’m gonna do that with your mommies right around the corner; I’m not that stupid,” Shorty retorted, growing more angry by the second, but instead of making room for it, he decided to try to play his last trump card.

“Alright, what if I promise to leave you alone if you let me play for a while today?”

The offer should have sparked their interest, but he underestimated their distrust and the fact that they were starting to be old enough to use their brains instead of being gullible like they used to be. After a quick moment of hushed conversations he couldn’t catch, one of the pink girls announced their reply.

“If you’re oh so desperate to play Hide and Seek with us, you’ll have to play by our terms instead of making empty promises you won’t keep anyways.”

Listen here, you little shit…

“Chant, ‘I’m a loser with no friends,’ three times while chasing your tail or try making us play with our mommies around.”

Shorty deadpanned. They had him, and he knew it the moment he realized it. Lashing out at them and making a scene would mean he had never been serious about it in the first place, and accepting their terms would just be a free humiliation ticket - one he’d never hear the end of if the tale spread among the other youngsters. A violent clash ran its course in his brain for a few seconds. Declining would mean defeat. Accepting would mean losing face. Neither option was an option, but he had to choose regardless. Defeat or loss of pride? Which was it?

“I’m a loser with no friends,” Shorty said as neutrally as he could while beginning to chase his tail half-heartedly. “I’m a loser with no friends.” Shorty began to feel terrible, his voice trembling as his mind continued to fight his decision, but he forced himself through a third lap anyway to get it over with. “I’m a loser with no friends.”

Shorty honestly just wanted to disappear at that moment, but the heavy surprise on the children’s faces meant at least that they never expected him to do it in the first place.

“Not it,” he added quickly. Their hushed voices immediately exploded, and the whole group suddenly fell into disarray. The boy could vaguely retrieve mentions of a plan B before everyone tried to beat each other, repeating after him.

“F-fine, we’ll play with you then,” one of the pink girls announced, who also happened to be ‘it’ for this round. “I’ll count one hundred treestars; you better be hidden by then!”

*

Little later, Shorty cowered underneath a blanket of large-sized ferns he had chopped down to build a failure-proof hideout. He still felt a hotness in his face, which had nothing to do with the sweltering heat that came with the early afternoon. When was the last time he had done something this embarrassing? He honestly couldn’t remember.

Shorty felt terrible, but he got them to play with him, although he no longer felt the urge, thanks to his embarrassment. Still, if he wanted to appear any more trustworthy than he was commonly seen, he needed to stick to his words and keep playing until he was found. As such, he waited. And waited. And waited some more. He waited until he was certain of it.

They had ditched him.

*

The small longneck stood perfectly still, her emerald eyes intently observing her target as she waited. The mossy smell of damp wood and wet greenery that usually hung in the air in the dense jungle she lived in was replaced by a flowery scent sticking to her snout. She had seen her target indulge itself in the huge, vibrantly orange-colored petals of a pleasant-smelling, fairly sizable flower, so the girl had decided to rub her little snout in this type of flower as well.

Now equipped with its heavenly perfume, the child hoped her target would find her snout just as enticing as a natural flower. Seated on a nearby log, it rubbed its many tiny legs together while preening its delicate, two-rowed wings. The child attempted to edge a little closer, hoping that such creatures had a poorly developed sense of hearing, as the fallen leaves and the many twigs crunching underneath her toes were sure to give her intentions away otherwise.

Suddenly, the air brimmed with the sound of the insect taking to the skies. It had noticed her! The noisy, buzzing sound these impressively large but ultimately harmless insects made led to the origin of the name everyone called them: Thunderflies. Of course, their noise couldn’t even compete with the booming, crashing, or rolling thunder frequently carried through the air by storms in these lands. Regardless, folks called them Thunderflies, for they lacked a better term to accurately describe the large variety of these often overlooked and underappreciated creatures.

The young girl could hardly contain her fascination, following the insect's fast-paced air maneuvers with her green eyes and forcing her little legs to remain where they were lest her illusion of being a flower be ruined. For a few moments, it seemed as though the insect would take its ultimate leave. The young dinosaur already felt the familiar emotion of disappointment knocking on the fence of her fragile mind, but then…

Oh, it is coming back!

The child rejoiced when the insect abruptly changed its flight course, heading directly toward her. Excitement replaced the fleeting disappointment she had felt before. Would it actually touch down on her snout? Had she finally discovered a foolproof technique to attract these wondersome creatures?

Yes! Just a little closer!

The insect now loomed large in her vision as it hovered mere centimeters from her nose as if double-checking its decision. The insect’s confusion came hardly as a surprise. While she gave off the smell of a beautiful flower, she certainly didn’t look like one. The Thunderfly in front of her belonged to one of the larger kinds. It grew to the size of an average treestar, and, provided it decided to land on her snout, its lengthy, stick-like body wouldn’t even fit entirely onto the platform that her snout provided. But then again, she could still count the cold times she’d lived with her forepaws…

While she wiggled six of her eight forepaws as if to remind herself of her age, the insect decided as it lowered the speed at which its fragile wings were humming. It landed on the tip of the child’s nose without creating a sound.

W-whoa, it worked! It really landed–hey, that tickles!

Immediately upon taking perch, the insect began working on every bit of her scaly skin with its many legs. A set of stick-like extensions at its face simultaneously began to probe her skin for anything edible. The girl felt overwhelmed at the sudden influx of stimuli and barely managed to stay still as the actions of her little friend tickled quite a bit. From up close, she could see things that usually escaped her eyes.

She already knew from previous observation that Thunderflies — or most insects, for that matter, sported eye-like features that often covered large portions of their faces. But only now did she discover that they were split into countless segments, each appearing to be an independent, if unmoving, eye. The creature crawled a little closer in its search for food, exposing the grotesque details of its mouth. Had these creatures decided to grow a few magnitudes larger, they would be material for the scariest nightmares she could think of.

From a distance, most kinds of Thunderflies appeared black, but up close, she could tell that, when interacting with the light of the Bright Circle, the surface of their bodies shone with a multitude of shiny colors. Green was especially prevalent in her little friend. Still, some parts of their segmented body also had a bit of orange and blue mixed in, resulting in a colorful display that matched the beauty of a flower - except these creatures weren’t pretty at all but grotesque in every sense.

Grotesque, despised and ignored. Just like me, huh?

The girl sighed as she locked her two big eyes with the countless small eyes of her little friend. Creatures like these were commonly overlooked by the average longneck she knew. These simple-minded folks only cared about anything edible and those things that could eat and harm them. Some had a family, children, or lovers to worry about. They didn’t care about the beauty of the world and the many plants and creatures that populated it, though. They only cared about things they found helpful. Frankly, it saddened her.

Things like you and me are not deemed valuable, huh?

The girl had kept these words hidden in the depths of her mind, yet she felt as if her little friend understood her. The Thunderfly stopped looking for the food that didn’t exist on her snout, tilting its head, its wings vibrating as if warming up for take off. The little longneck felt a stinging sensation as she realized the crime she had committed. Deceiving others wasn’t an act of kindness. The insect had turned around hoping to find a meal, but instead, she had fooled it by the smell she had stolen from a flower.

I am very sorry for being a bad girl. You can take off now if you want, Mr. Thunderfly.

Again, she hadn’t spoken these words in any way the insect could have heard or understood, yet the moment her inner voice spoke them, the insect took off, hovering shortly in front of her face as if to say goodbye before leaving and gaining altitude. The girl followed her little friend with her eyes, wistful yet knowing that she couldn’t ever be friends with a creature like it.

That is right. Go! Fly back to your family if you have one or to Ms. Thunderfly if you have one. Thank you for being my little friend, even for a brief while…

Suddenly, the girl’s emotional landscape changed rapidly. Where excitement and joy realm just moments ago, now only a crippling sense of melancholy remained. The size of the world she lived in and the multitude of life it harbored exceeded her ability to imagine and picture it by many magnitudes. Its beauty dazzled her, and its mysteries tickled her curiosity, and yet… even though the world was so big, beautiful, and lively… she was alone.

All alone.

*

Well, it was a stupid idea to begin with…

Shorty had returned to his feet upon realizing he had been abandoned by the little longnecks in his hideout. Despite the atrocity of the act, he didn’t feel nearly as angry as he thought. If anything, he regretted humiliating himself in front of those losers instead of showing them their rightful place. Indeed, he wouldn’t be able to show his face around them for a good while now. Not until he re-installed the fear and restored his dignity, anyway.

Honestly, what was I thinking? If a bully suddenly started playing nice, I wouldn’t trust them either. I’ve been there many times and even made this mistake several times while still with my family! This sucks, but it’s on me…

Dinosaurs just couldn’t be trusted. From earliest childhood, Shorty knew that trusting others was a telltale sign of weakness. Trust yourself, not others. Today’s events had reminded him just how much truth these words held even though they had been installed into him by someone he hated a lot more than those stupid brats who were likely brimming with a sense of victory just about now, laughing their asses off imagining him waiting all day to be found when in truth no one was looking for him to begin with.

Well, it’s not like this is the first time no one bothers to look for me when I run off. If it didn’t make me so mad, I’d even get a bit nostalgic!

Now that the thought had crossed his mind, memories began to hammer in — memories of a time when things were a lot worse than they were now… but also a lot less lonely. Faces flushed past his inner eye. Some he wanted to punch with his tail, some he just wanted to forget, and one face he wished he could still look at today.

Shorty exhaled sharply as a moment of weakness overcame him. He had never once truly regretted running away from that place, but moments like these made him wonder if it had been the right choice. Those brats wouldn’t have upset him because they’d be either dead or living shitty lives, and he’d never have found that useless Bron thinking he could replace the things he had lost. But, alas, some things were beyond recovery. Some things couldn’t be undone, and his running away was one of those things.

Even if he wanted to meet with HIM again and see HER again, he’d have to find them first. In other words, it wasn’t going to happen nor worth the effort. Life wasn’t great, granted, but his circumstances didn’t warrant such drastic and reckless actions. Going on a journey like that would just get him killed. Even Bron hadn’t found what he had been looking for. What were the odds when Shorty didn’t want to find 80% of what he sought? Shorty wanted to see the day he’d grow up and escape this hellhole, finally able to depend on himself. Maybe then he could give it a try. Or perhaps they were long dead by then.

Another sigh escaped his throat. Ultimately, they were mere relics of his past now, for good or for bad. Shorty knew he should have graduated from having these thoughts, but he also knew that there were a lot of things that couldn’t be erased from one’s mind once engraved into it. There were things one couldn’t escape from no matter how hard they tried. His past trauma was one of those things, his bottomless restlessness another.

*****

Time is a scary thing, especially if one has to split it up between various interests. I had hoped this wouldn't happen but other interests and my job soaked up more time than I anticiated. Ducky falling into old habits again, huh? Oh well, here's another chapter anyway 

While the first chapter dealt with Shorty's relationship with Bron, this one explores his relationships with his environment. He's a bully and disliked by many, and he has no friends. He's avoided, feared, looked down on. Shorty has always been distrusting of others and very proud, which led to him not having the best social interactions. Now, he is isolated and he is beginning to realize that things may be beyond repair once again just like the family he abandoned for reasons that will remain unknown for a while longer. He's frustrated, angry and sad. A dangerous state of mind that can quickly deteriorate if one isn't careful.

I felt that this never really came across in the previous version of the story. The 10th movie only vaguely hints at Shorty being a bully and one could only speculate if he's a loner. Considering the many things the movie forgot to consider, any side characters from Bron's herd naturally wouldn't have fit into the story anyway so I've been wondering how Shorty may have spent his daily life. Shorty is a largely misunderstood character both canonically and within the narration of this tale. I hope the chapter shows some of that. Even Shorty doesn't always understand himself, one time being a horrible bully (even if he didn't do anything here) and then craving love and affection like any normal dinosaur would. It's his complicated history that leads to all these desires counteracting each other and worsening his situation over time as his priorities antagonize each other for the most part.

The story starts in a fairly introspective sense but worry not for there will be more interactive scenes soon (however soon that will be, lol  ). Once the framework is done, I also hope my speed will increase as these chapters take a lot of mental energy to make sure they're progressing logically without plot holes and other errors

I'll leave the mysterious scene uncommented for now. Some of you may be able to tell who it is, everyone else will find out in a chapter or two 

The next chapter will possibly be posted with less of a break as it's actually mostly done and might see completion if I have a good writing session later today. It'll cover the sleepstory thematic in more detail and contribute more to the worldbuilding of the place Shorty and Bron live in. Please look forward to it 

Shorty couldn’t recall screaming like a hatchling, but when he came to, the sound echoing back to his ears was a little too reminiscent of his voice to mistake it for someone else’s. Although attempting to deny it, his heavy breath counteracted every doubt that he’d been having a nightmare once again - and a pretty bad one at that.

The soft feeling of wet grass under his belly felt much more comfortable than the blazing heat he’d been. facing in his dream. Moreover, the ever-reliable tug of gravity felt tremendously more natural than hovering through the air without the ability to steer.

Grunting, the boy got to his feet as the echo of his pathetic scream finally subsided. Typically, a freakish sleep story like this wouldn’t bother him much at all. Shorty wasn’t the type to dwell much on these things, but lately, he’d been having this very sleep story or slight variations of it almost every night, much to his dismay.

Randomly waking up because of them while screaming like a maniac wasn’t exactly his idea of starting a morning, but it had become a routine rather than an exception. He often found himself restless and felt powerless over the phenomenon. He hated not being in control.

Shorty cast a glance into the distance to get a feeling of time and, more importantly, remind him that he was no longer at that place with its high, towering mountains and narrow valleys but at his home - the Land Of Many Skywaters. Quite unlike the place he kept seeing in his nightmares, his home featured a far-stretching expanse of endless forests rather than a thin valley.

His nest perched on one of many smaller hills that occasionally broke through the foliage here and there, giving him an excellent view over the surrounding area. Trees towering taller than the largest longnecks broke through the green foliage in many places, though a thin layer of morning fog still embraced their silhouettes. The Bright Circle hadn’t quite risen yet, though daybreak would arrive very soon, given that the darkness of the night had largely retreated far beyond the horizon.

The Land Of Many Skywaters didn’t have an actual name as far as Shorty knew as it was a place so far-stretching that no one really knew its actual extent, but everyone just called it that because it genuinely described his home well. Hardly a day went by without rain falling from the skies - the secret to the forest’s immense fertility, which was second to none he had ever seen. The drought that was said to ravage large parts of the known world hadn’t found its way into the paradise he was lucky to call his home, and he hoped that it would never find these endless forests.

A sudden thirst prompted him to move to a little puddle next to his nest, which formed almost every night due to the frequent rains. His eyes fell on his reflection. A longneck stared back at him, sky-blue eyes mustering him skeptically. He wore dark green scales on his back, a more leafy shade of green adorning his flanks, and a very light shade of beige across his belly and the frontal parts of his long neck.

Quite unlike many other longnecks he knew, Shorty sported a bony crown on his head, which he simply regarded as a ‘bump’. While not entirely unheard of, this variation within his kind appeared to be a relatively rare sight in the lands he lived in now, leaving him with mixed opinions about his unique feature.

For a boy his age, just a little shy of entering the growth spurt that determined the beginning of the age of growing up, his body was surprisingly well-built and muscular. One didn’t become a strong longneck by idling about. Shorty had learned this fairly early in his life and had been training his body whenever he had time to kill, putting special effort into his tail skills to fight like his big idol one day.

“G’morning, Shorty.”

…who also happened to be his biggest nuisance and nemesis. Shorty froze in his tracks as a deep voice echoed through the quiet morning air, the source right behind him. Could he have heard him scream just earlier?

“Mornin’...” Shorty muttered quietly, taking a few sips of water as originally intended before turning his head towards the source of the voice who had addressed him just now. An adult longneck lay on the ground a little distance uphill, grinning at his younger self. A brown palette painted the scales of the adult male, and Shorty could feel himself being scanned by his keen blue eyes, though they also had a bit of a green color mixed in, unlike his own. 

If someone asked him about their relationship, he’d probably tell them that the adult was just ‘someone he’s living with’, but could he say this straightly without disregarding his true feelings?

“Had a good rest, Shorty?” the grown-up wondered casually while unlimbering his four large legs to rise to his full, fairly impressive height. “Almost thought I heard you scream in my sleep, but I was probably just hearing things…”

So he DID hear it! Urgh…

Shorty grunted audibly at this.

“... You know, sometimes the silliest things happen when we sleep,” the grown-up said, realizing that Shorty had seen through his words, but the young boy’s grumpy face strafed him quickly, so he decided to change the topic.

“A-anyways, what about breakfast?”

“I can grab it myself, Bron,” Shorty growled, turning tail and heading downhill toward the extensive forests below.

“I never doubted that you could, Shorty, but let’s have breakfast together,” the adult longneck called Bron appealed, but his words fell on deaf ears. “You know, other families do that all the time. I think we should also…”

At this, he got the boy’s attention. Shorty wheeled around as if preparing to strike an opponent with his. tail and yelled.

“Oh yeah? Too bad we aren’t a REAL family then!”

*

Bron sighed heavily as the longneck watched the boy storm off into the shadows of the large trees below. As much as he wanted to say otherwise, Shorty hadn’t chosen these words carelessly.

Feeling quite downcast, the adult walked to the top of the hill to cast a view into the vast lands he called his home. It was a habit of his that always came to view when he needed to remind himself of the sheer magnitude of the problems of the past, which made his little fight with Shorty seem ridiculously insignificant in comparison.

Had someone told him a few years ago that he would be living a fulfilled life ever again, he probably would have smacked them senseless with his tail for it. His home had been taken by the drought when it emerged everywhere in the known dinosaur world, and his family had been taken by a sharptooth when he wasn’t there to protect them. Everything else got ripped apart by the most descriptive and fatal earthshake remembered in their generation, only a gaping slash in the landscape remaining of the place he used to call his home.

Bron had lost everything that ever mattered to him. After walking for years searching for a place to call home only to realize such utopia no longer existed anywhere in their world, he had found their home destroyed and abandoned. Most dinosaurs likely would have surrendered to the cruelty of life, but Bron carried on even after learning about the fate of his loved ones from a stranger he had met.

Bron could still feel a force tug at his heart as he briefly allowed himself to remember these dark times. Had it not been for a certain hope he still carried up to this day, maybe he would have never ended up becoming the kind of dinosaur he had ultimately become.

His gaze now traveled across the limitless greenery of the Lands Of Many Skywater, which he could now call his home. Slowly but surely, these lands stretching as far as the eye could see came to life as hundreds of longnecks gradually woke up to the first rays of morning light. And he was their leader, a longneck who used to be on the brink of giving up just a few years ago. Now, his life had a new meaning: to lead and protect hundreds of strangers who became the family that he had lost.

And, to some, he was even a little more than that.

A small smile appeared on his face as the thought tickled his mind. Indeed, coming here and gazing across these lands always helped him appreciate life's gifts, even though he deserved none. But his smile didn’t last long as the issue of Shorty resurfaced in his mind.

That boy…

*

That Bron…

A pebble went rocketing into the scrub, adorning a loose path countless feet had paved over time. Shorty was still stuck in the motion of shooting it, his tail tip nearly reaching past his head as his eyes followed the little object zip out of sight. Finally, he lowered his tail, releasing the tension he had built up in his muscles. A grim expression painted his face as he angrily spat on the ground.

“Seriously, what’s his problem?!”

After practicing his swing one more time, he aimed his tail at a nearby palm tree carrying some fruits at the top. Upon impact, the whole plant shuddered and released a tremendous amount of its treasures, dropping to the ground next to the green-colored longneck.

“I CAN get my own food. He doesn’t need to babysit me anymore!”

Shorty ranted at no one in particular, for very few dinosaurs would care if they overheard. While digging into the food he obtained for himself, Shorty mused that Bron rarely ever truly cared for him. He often used the pretense of trying to be more like a family as he did earlier, but when it really mattered to him, the grown-up never lived up to his words.

Quite frankly, the boy was sick of playing this little pretend game. If he just grew a little larger, he’d likely no longer need the adult to supervise him. He could already care for himself, fend for himself, and make his own decisions. He prided himself in these abilities just as he prided himself in having just about enough common sense to keep playing this game however long it would be necessary.

…which still didn’t mean he played it happily.

*

While Bron knew the fate of his former mate, who died protecting their son Littlefoot from a sharptooth, no one had ever been able to tell him about his fate. At least, reports seemed to agree that his mother had spared him a gruesome death by the teeth of that sharptooth, but no one knew what happened to him beyond that.

Had he been crushed during the earthquake? Had another sharptooth found him soon after, or was the boy lucky enough to find someone to take in an orphaned child like him? Bron had dedicated the remainder of his life to finding his son. At some point along this hopeless quest, he found the longneck who set the incredible chain of events into motion that ultimately led to his current life.

Bron could still remember vividly. He had found Shorty in the deepest parts of the drought-stricken deserts, orphaned and gaunt. Despite his tender age and critical situation, the boy had somehow managed to keep a flock of hatchlings alive. Back then, Bron could only see a child that wasn’t the lost son he hoped to find and decided to leave them to their fate. But the children followed him, and he eventually agreed to take care of them.

While the task of guarding the orphans gave him a new sense of duty, replacing his growing depression at the time, a thought had crossed his mind back then, which still resurfaced at times like these. What if someone else found Littlefoot orphaned and alone? Would he have wanted some other dinosaur to take him in? Love him like he was their son while he so desperately tried to find him?

To this day, Bron hadn’t found a satisfying answer, but if he had to be honest with himself, he couldn’t entirely regret all his decisions. Life was a little too full of what-ifs to always walk the correct path. What truly mattered was how he dealt with the detours and fallbacks that the Great Circle of Life would often throw at him randomly.

He’d never know if he would have found his lost son eventually, but Bron knew that Shorty and the other longnecks he protected wouldn’t have survived in the long run. Meeting the green little troublemaker gave him a new purpose to carry on, which, in time, led him to become the strong and charismatic leader he had become. And, just perhaps, somewhere out there, someone might be happy about his efforts to look after him, even if it wasn’t always easy…

“Oh Shorty…”

A sigh escaped the grown-up as his thoughts shifted back to the present. Despite his best efforts, he could only describe their relationship as strained. He had never attempted to act as the child’s parent fully. Neither could he. Being a herd leader came with a wide range of responsibilities. Besides, a small part of him still carried some small hope of seeing his lost son again one day, sabotaging his commitment to the task at times.

The smaller hatchlings all ended up being adopted by fellow herd members. Still, no one seemed to show any interest in adopting Shorty, a boy who had already developed a distinct and sometimes problematic personality at the time. Bron didn’t particularly mind, though. Shorty could be good company if he wanted to, and the adult would be lying if he claimed he hadn’t grown attached in some ways.

Regardless, there were… issues…

*

It would be preposterous to say Shorty didn’t care about Bron. After all, Bron had saved his life. Even someone as proud as Shorty couldn’t just pretend it didn’t happen to save face. Bron saved him and gave him a place in the herd, a place to sleep, and something as close to home as he could call it. However, Shorty couldn’t really say the adult tended to his remaining needs.

There used to be a time shortly after they decided to travel together as a herd when Shorty actually felt something akin to a bond forming between them. Nowadays, he wasn’t so sure anymore. He was no longer a stupid kid, and Bron became increasingly caught up in his duties, occasionally forgetting that someone special like him was worth much more than the average herd member.

Grumpily, he bit into a fruit so passionately that the juice splattered all over him, but Shorty paid the incident no heed. When he was younger, he secretly craved Bron's attention, admiration, and affection, but the adult only ever had scolding and reprimands left for him if he had time to spare. And even when he was available, Bron could never give him what he truly wanted.

A family. A loving, understanding family. Affection. Shorty didn’t like sounding sappy, but if he had to be honest with himself - if he had to dig really deep down into the depth of his heart… then those were the words bubbling forth like a hot spring. Then again, he didn’t have to look too far into the past to realize he could be off much, much worse…

Shorty would discredit his caretaker if he claimed he didn’t try to offer him a family. He’d be lying, too, if he claimed Bron was unable to show kindness. But could he even call his style of pretending to care, but being distant when it mattered an attempt? Especially when, officially, Bron had never formally offered him adoption? Especially when various adults took in the kids HE had protected while no one seemed to want or credit him for the deed?

Ever since learning about these things, Shorty gave up. Unable to get what he wanted and needed, he learned to live without relying on others more than required. Kindness and nice words just weren’t meant to be given to him, no matter where he went. No one saw his qualities or the effort he put in day after day either. No one gave him the attention and respect he desired so much.

Some may have given up, crushed by the harshness of reality, but not Shorty. The young longneck knew he could always rely on his strength. If there was nobody to rely on, he just had to learn to depend on himself while crushing those who opposed him. Over time, he had built an impressive amount of confidence, believing and trusting himself over others.

He didn’t have any real ambitions yet, but there were a few things he just liked to do occasionally. Finishing his meal, he began strolling through his home's sheer, endless greenery. Seemingly at random, he walked, leaving the paths his fellow herd members had waltzed through the forest and slipping into the undergrowth which hid him perfectly…

*

Keeping Shorty in line hadn’t always been easy. As a matter of fact, it was nearly impossible. The boy had quickly begun to assert dominance over those beneath him. Bron caught him mocking, harassing, or outright abusing other children in his herd more often than he could recall. In particular, he seemed to target the hatchlings he used to protect, and Bron was at a loss as to why he did any of it.

It pained him to admit, but the boy he looked after bullied his fellow peers as opposed to building productive social ties. It also pained him to admit that he lacked a good response. Bron had never quite had a chance to grow into the role of a parent, which left him with some deficits. Deficits that came to haunt him in situations like these.

While he knew he had to rebuke the boy for his actions, Bron often found their relationship to be at odds whenever he did. Turning a blind eye to his activities, in turn, vastly improved the likelihood of Shorty not giving him the cold shoulder. Unfortunately, this threatened his legitimacy as the leader of the herd. As such, when someone really got hurt, he had to act but usually stopped at warnings, rarely ever sentencing the boy to anything unless things got out of hand.

Bron could only muse about the boy’s motifs. His urge to prove himself better than anyone else around him often reached a concerning level. Meanwhile, Bron knew very little about the time before Shorty joined him. At some point, the boy disclosed having a poor family life, which eventually prompted him to become a runaway. Bron had made sure to lecture him about it, but Shorty never mentioned his past again. Bron hadn’t inquired about it again.

…which didn’t stop him from theorizing occasionally. What could he have experienced to arrive at such a personality, which only seemed to grow worse with age? What past trauma could cause this behavior, and how could he go about it? What did Shorty actually want from him? What did he lack?

Bron sighed. There were so many things he didn’t know about the boy in spite of living together for nearly. half of the boy’s lifetime. He caused him more trouble than anything, yet Bron couldn’t stop feeling indebted to the boy for opening his eyes and prompting him to quit his fruitless search in favor of a life he was now content living. He could never tell the boy, though, for their relationship never pierced deeper than the shallowest surface.

Shorty rarely shared his feelings with him even if he asked him nicely, so Bron had always assumed the boy wasn’t interested in his feelings either. Bron didn’t feel happy about all of these things, but he accepted Shorty as long as Shorty accepted him, too. Frankly, it wasn’t exactly the happy family life he envisioned, but neither had any reason to dig deeper. And, partly, both knew of the other’s past hardships just enough to know digging things up wasn’t an excellent way to start a conversation.

Bron struggled with many negative emotions whenever the past came knocking on his door. Everything that happened back then - the loss of his family and the failure of his journey to find better lands for their son to grow up, all boiled down to a single conclusion: It had been his fault. He failed to protect them. Everything he ever aspired to be died on the fateful day he wasn’t there to protect his family.

He had a new family now. But most of them didn’t know of his past failures. They didn’t know that there was once a time when he wasn’t the glorious, brave, and charismatic leader he chose to become for their sake. Shorty, on the other hand, knew all of it and never blamed him for any of it in spite of his foul mouth.

While Bron felt a certain sense of encouragement as the thought brushed his mind, he couldn’t help but wonder if Shorty might have encountered things even worse than this. Things that caused him to be so wary and distrusting of him that he even had to hide his secret idolism. After all, Bron wasn’t just the leader of the herd. He was their strongest, most experienced fighter, too. Shorty admired him for it, but he never quite liked to be open about it.

Bron felt another sigh escape his throat. While he stood up here on this hill, momentarily observing the Bright Circle starting its journey across the horizon, Shorty was likely up to some mischief, and there was little Bron could do about it. If only they shared a stronger bond,  if only he could be a better role model for the boy, then perhaps he could guide him to a better future, but, alas, things never quite seemed to go the right way between them.

Guess I’ll have breakfast on my own again. Wonder if he’ll agree to dinner later?

Bron was still pondering how to get Shorty to agree to a family meal when the telltale sound of a large, quadrupedal creature making its way up his hill disturbed his breakfast before it had a chance to begin.

*

Gradually, as Shorty snuck past countless trees, ferns, and bushes, his anger diminished somewhat as his hunger was now taken care of. Yet, his mind continued to churn at the prospect of the damaged bond he shared with Bron.

Shorty sighed. He didn’t know if he could judge Bron for his relative lack of ambition when it came to their family life. Bron didn’t fully commit to their relationship, but could he blame him when considering that he, too, preferred to wait for something to happen instead of taking the initiative?

He honestly didn’t hate Bron, but could he really see them as a family due to the distance they both kept between them? Obnoxious and trying to act like a supervisor more than a parent, he ultimately wasn’t. any more or less than someone looking after him, which Shorty didn’t desire. At times, it drove him mad, but he already had bad enough of a morning to bother dwelling any further on it.

Moreover, when he thought back to a time before Bron had joined his life, he had to admit that the current state of things wasn’t nearly as terrible as he made it sound. At least he had some freedom in his shitty life and didn’t need to worry about his next meal or his next punishment. Even though he hated to admit it, things could indeed be worse.

Instead of complaining any further, Shorty began to enter a walk as the day started to mature into that sweet time between morning and noon when the temperature and humidity were still comfortable. Occasionally, he would slap or shove random rocks and trees, testing if he could move them. He would randomly enter sprints or repeatedly slam to the floor before pushing himself back to his feet.

This behavior may look ridiculous to an outsider, but it was training for Shorty. Strengthening his body had a purpose, unlike many of his other pastimes. Thus, he preferred filling his idle time with exercises like this. A longneck who was strong, fast, and quick to react was less likely to end up in a predator’s. stomach. Besides, they were also more likely to emerge victorious in a fight among peers.

Few children in his herd dared to stand up to him. They were too big and old to care about someone as short as him, or they were intimidated into avoiding him or doing whatever he told them if they crossed paths. His short-for-his-age size could be considered a problem he’d like to do something about, but, more importantly, he truly yearned for a dinosaur to compete with.

For someone as underappreciated and commonly ignored as him, nothing hurt more than not getting any credit whatsoever. Not having any friends was one thing. Playing and goofing around, while nice and fun, was a waste of time. But a rival to spar with, yell at, and mutually respect…

Well, one couldn’t ask for too much, Shorty thought. The green longneck was used to having it rough, and he knew how to deal with not getting what he wanted. It wasn’t pleasant, granted, but his current abilities, strengths, and priorities were limited to what he could achieve. A friend likely wouldn’t save his ass but their own. But he could save himself when the time came to prove it. He knew that one day, he wouldn’t be Shorty, the longneck always drawing the short stick anymore.

While spinning all these thoughts, Shorty unknowingly approached a group of children playing Hide and Seek until he nearly stumbled upon one of the kids hiding in a bush a little off a nearby path…

*

Bron’s neck craned around to meet a familiar face approaching him. A large male longneck had entered his realm, briefly nodding when they established eye contact. Bron returned the nod.

“Deputy Will, it’s nice to see you,” Bron spoke as he invited the other adult into his nest. “What brings you here so early in the morning? Don’t tell me, did Shorty hurt someone again?”

Bron had to admit that he was always a little on edge when Will approached him for a report. He held significant authority in his herd as the leading deputy and de facto second in command. He would often gather intel from other sub-deputies to present the information to him for evaluation. It wasn’t rare that such information entailed the vast diversity of Shorty’s mischief.

“Not yet, but the day’s still young,” the male grunted sternly. Bron could feel some relief as Will wasn’t someone he wanted to get on the wrong side of. Although the dark-grey-colored longneck wasn’t much taller than him, Will’s body was unusually massive in every sense, which translated to strength visible enough to scare many sharpteeth away without risking a battle.

While Bron fought with technical skill and an exceptional dose of trusting his gut, Will was a brute force to be reckoned with. Together, hardly a sharptooth stood a chance against them. Bron had chosen him as his primary deputy for those qualities, although he had to admit that Will had a few shortcomings. On a personal level, they just didn’t get along. Though, in terms of work, they complimented each other brilliantly.

“Hate to bug yer so early in the morning, but the herd’s in unrest lately,” Will explained, glancing into the distance, seemingly beyond the visible horizon.

“Yes, I know,” Bron replied, following his example. “The sleepstories, right?”

“Ye, damn them,” Will cursed, shaking his neck as if to shake the very memory out of his mind. “Haven’t spoken to everyone yet, but there’s an alarming amount of longnecks saying they wanna follow their instincts, yer know? Those blasted nightmares are on a good path of tearing the herd apart if we don’t do something about it.”

Bron nodded in silent agreement. None of this was news to him because he could feel the effects these dreams caused. Deep down, he wanted to leave this place to go on a vast journey to lands unknown. Historically, he had been quite the adventurer, so, at first, he hadn’t thought much about it, blaming these emotions on the relative lack of thrill and excitement in his stable life. However, they were a little too persistent to be a mere craving of his mind.

These sudden urges coincided with the rise of those night terrors that caused Shorty and him trouble each night. Bron couldn’t understand what was happening to him and his herd, but he knew it was far from a trivial disturbance in their daily lives. If the reports were accurate, nearly every member of his herd shared these odd cravings. Bron couldn’t fathom the forces at work here, but that didn’t change the responsibility that resulted from it.

“Do you think we should discuss this in a herd meeting, Will?” Bron pondered as his gaze returned to the present. “I think this is something the herd needs to decide together.”

“If ya ask me, Bron, this is probably all rubbish, and we shouldn’t listen to this nonsense,” Will elaborated agitatedly. However, the large longneck couldn’t deny that, sometimes, the things that were right and best didn’t align, prompting a tough decision. “Hate to say it though, it’s tempting even reasonable folk such as me, so I think I know where the vote will be going…”

“Let’s announce a meeting for tomorrow then,” Bron suggested, sighing at the prospect of a possibly life-changing decision. “I’ll help you spread the news once I’ve had a meal.”

*****

Apologies for skipping the first upload date but future installments should be on schedule. The nature of this chapter and the changes it brings to the story forced me to seek a 2nd opinion on a few things before publishing this.

There are a few things that ran through my mind when designing this entirely new beginning to Shorty's Arc.

1.) I found Shorty's version of the pre- going adventurung time to be lacking in 2.0, especially considering that Ali and Littlefoot got much more fleshed out scenes despite not being the main character of the story. We never really learned what kind of home he lived in and what kind of daily life (and related problems) he had there. This is now fixed and this chapter and the ones to follow aim to build the world and his character before sending him on his way.

2.) I strongly disliked my take on Shorty's relationship with Bron and vice versa. This chapter is centered around the conflict between these two and why it exists. Both characters kind of want to live as a family but neither fully commits to it which leads to an awkward circle of "if you don't like me, I won't like you". Both of them have reasons to act the way they do and it is not yet clear if they are planning to resolve their alienated relationship.

3.) Some characters have begun writing themselves throughout the duration of this project which raised their importance to the plot of the story massively up to the point where it may become feasible to introduce them earlier than originally planned. While this doesn't apply to chapter 1 yet (minus Will, but he's been introduced early even in version 1), I'm sure you'll see a familiar face in the next chapter 

4.) Future arcs demand that the previous introduction scene (Bron and Shorty meeting in the past) needs to be moved into the far future of the story. I do not want to spoil anything important for new readers which limits my ability to explain this decision. Let's just say, there will be a time when Shorty is forced to look into his dark past (similar to how it went in version 1.0, just 10x more extensive and detailed) and his meeting with Bron just needs to be there because it will teach him an important lesson which I cannot teach with summaries of what happens. Unfortunately, this also forced me to write a chapter, that's very heavy on "telling" stuff because showing the details comes muuuuuuuuch later. It's an issue I'm aware of and I'm planning to write the coming chapters more interactively. There's just a lot of information needed here to give context to Shorty and Bron's relatinship and why it evolved the way it did.

5.) I also intend to write the story chronologically whenever possible. Old versions often swapped back and forth for the sake of alternating between certain arcs that ran simultaneously. Therefore, I no longer wish to start the story in the past but in the present when the sleepstory situation is about to become acute. I consider Shorty's home (designed after modern tropical rainforests) to be the furthest from the location which means their journey needs to start first. And he's the main character, cut him some slack 


Some other things on my mind:

You may have noticed, that the story now features Acts or Arcs, however you want to call them. This is purely a stylistic decision of mine, it doesn't change anything in the story other than making it a little more clear in what phase of the story we are. And I daresay we won't see Act 2 before 2025 

The story will be lagging behind by one chapter on ff.net.

Thanks to rhombus & my good friend Mr. Ajax, who's not on the GoF, for helping me with this chapter! 

I think that's it. Please let me know what you think about this new start of the story, yep yep yep 

This is a short story happening at some point during Littlefoot's journey from LBT 10. Note that this is a future chapter of my fanfiction "Shorty's Dark Past" or "SDP" currently unreleased.  No spoilers in this one afaik, you can safely read it even without knowing the context of the longfic it belongs to as it's a self-contained chapter. Those of you who participated in a certain roleplay long ago may recognize a character appearing in this short story. Enjoy the read 

Adventuring at night

Littlefoot was woken roughly by a particularly scary variant of the type of sleepstory which had been plaguing him for weeks. On maximum alert, the young longneck scanned his surroundings for sudden movement only to find a lone hopper stirring on a nearby boulder, likely startled by his cries of horror.

It took more controlled breathing than usual to fully arrive in reality, realizing that it had been no more and no less than a stupid nightmare. Yet, the more he saw himself confronted with these night terrors, the easier they were to deal with. As the last reverberations of his panicked scream finally died, Littlefoot released a colossal sigh before entering a more comfortable position.

Sleepstories rarely went by without some sort of resonance. While the young boy appeared calm on the surface, his thoughts lingered on the sleepstory and its possible meaning. Even after weeks of experiencing them near daily, he still felt helpless at times, not knowing why they suddenly started to appear and disturb his peaceful life at the Great Valley.

Even though his grandparents had taken him on a grand adventure - a quest following a mere instinct connected to these nightly inconveniences, neither of them could truly deduct a deeper meaning behind them. At least, not yet. His mind churning and in turmoil, Littlefoot eventually resigned just like he had all the nights before. There simply didn’t exist an answer. Or maybe he just hadn’t been looking thoroughly?

Slightly frustrated, he ultimately turned his attention to the Night Circle high up in the sky. Ever so often, the weird, pockmarked white orb on the sky disappeared behind passing, fuzzy clouds. A gusty breeze and distant flashing announced a nearby storm though whether it would head towards their area remained to be seen.

Littlefoot noted that the celestial orb appeared in its complete circle shape tonight as opposed to the weird sickle shapes it displayed most of the time. On some nights, it even went into hiding. For a little while, the child attempted to understand these patterns but, like so many things in their world, a longneck like him just couldn’t find an answer to all these questions brewing in his mind.

Sighing, Littlefoot tried to settle down again but sleep wouldn't come. Not tonight. Restlessness and a strange sense of adventure lay in the air, manifesting itself in both body and mind. Littlefoot had experienced this kind of phenomenon many times before but never had it been as strong as today. Groaning, he got back up onto his feet.

I can't sleep but lying around is boring. What should I do?

The things one could do in the middle of the night all alone were rather limited. The threat of sharpteeth stalking around was ever-present and the prospect of a possible storm later tonight greatly added to his uncertainties. Unfortunately, a curious young being such as Littlefoot just couldn't lay around lazily when there was a whole unknown world to explore. He’d been an adventurer for as long as he could recall and the recent sleep story crisis only led for this passion to be strongly reinforced.

The longneck cast his neck around to get a better view of his surroundings. The area they were currently residing in actually turned out to be much less boring than most parts of the Mysterious Beyond they had come to pass on their journey so far.

It wasn't a dull place with brown rock and sand as far as the eye could see. Patches of green and wide meadows of yellow grass dominated the hilly landscape. The occasional overgrown mountain towered over the landscape as if watching over their smaller brethren.

The group of longnecks they were traveling with had decided to settle down in the shadow of one such, rather steep mountain. Some parts were dominated by steep, rocky cliffs while the other, less steep areas were claimed by a thick forest similar to the forests he knew from his home, which also happened to feature a lot of overgrown, forested mountains.

Driven by his curiosity and his sleepstory-induced wanderlust, Littlefoot quietly tiptoed away though not before making sure that both his grandparents and Sue were sound asleep. He didn't know where to go but going anywhere was better than not doing anything. Besides, he was certain his grandparents wouldn’t blame him for taking a walk, considering it was them who would always recommend a walk in times such as these when the mind just didn’t seem able to shut down.

For some moments, he observed his surroundings. Most of the area around him was either covered by gentle hills coated in a yellow blanket of tall grass or occasional boulders and smaller mountains that stood out from the otherwise rather monotonous landscape. Occasionally, a tree would pop out of the ground but it remained a rare respite - at least within the open fields.

Eventually, his eyes returned to the mountain the herd was sleeping under. Unlike the surrounding mountains, this one had a forest growing on its flanks. Moreover, upon further observation, Littlefoot discovered that the mountain was watching over a small valley with forests and meadows as well. When they had settled down earlier, the longneck had already been half asleep from a long day so it had obviously slipped his mind at the time. There was no holding the little longneck now that he knew, however. Without a doubt in his mind, he began jogging down a small pass until he had entered the valley, surrounded on all sides by hills and the occasional mountain overgrown with wild forests.

As the young sauropod strolled across the dry but somewhat green grass while avoiding the forests for now, his initial excitement wavered somewhat. He couldn't help but feel a little eerie. Being all alone at night in an unknown environment was an experience that sparked memories from a time long ago. Memories, some of which held a certain nostalgia, however they largely dated back to a time in his life he’d rather not experience ever again. Unlike back then, though, he had a place to return to tonight.

"You're watching, mother, aren't you?"

On a small hill, Littlefoot halted his adventure for a moment to get a good look at a number of things. The silhouettes of the slumbering longnecks shone against the bright light of the Night Circle which wasn't covered by any cloud at that moment. However, the constant flicker of lightning in the distance which seemed to get more intense by the minute was likely to get closer soon which meant he'd have to head back eventually.

His eyes brushed over the landscape, lingering here and there for a second, admiring the beauty of the world they lived in. Of course this place was by far inferior to his home, the Great Valley, but it had its very own charme. His mother had always tried to open both his mind and eyes for these little things in life. Perhaps this was the reason why he could feel her presence so strongly right now?

“Thank you, mother.”

The little longneck looked up to the little blinky lights high up in the sky, much higher than the thickest cloud could ever reach and much higher than a flyer could ever fly. Somewhere up there, he thought, the ancestors likely resided to watch over their descendants. A warm feeling spread within the boy from the inside; it made him feel strangely happy and at peace with the world.

Thinking about his mother didn’t always yield positive feelings such as today. Sometimes, he would also get sad over her death even after all this time though today wasn’t one of those days much to his relief. Time could heal many wounds but the emotional scars of losing her to that sharptooth many years ago still lay dormant within him, just waiting to be reactivated on a bad day.

Death was a concept Littlefoot could never completely get over with but the boy savored those rare moments of being able to feel his mother’s presence more than anything else. What would he give to have her go on this very adventure together with him though? A journey with his mother, how cool did that sound?

"I'll go explore this place a little more. Please watch over me. I love you, mother."

Littlefoot's gaze lingered on the brightest star of them all for a few more moments before he continued walking, wearing a content smile as he strode across another wide meadow.

*

It was about half an hour later when Littlefoot finally decided that he'd walked far enough, turning around though he would take a different path back in order to see a little more of this unknown location he’d likely never visit again in his life.

He hadn't crossed any of the patchy forests yet that grew scattered across the valley. A group of trees was right ahead of him now, hugging the towering mountain to his right. The approaching storm illuminated his path now instead of the Night Circle which had finally lost its battle against the clouds slowly rolling in.

A steady breeze enticed the leaves to rattle constantly, creating an eerie yet strangely comforting soundscape to accompany his quest. It almost seemed as if the storm was sucking the very air in, the intensity of the lightning making him feel a little uneasy now as it got close enough to light up the sky to daylight levels, if just for a brief moment’s notice.

I should really get back before this breaks loose...

Occasionally looking back to study the towering clouds which were illuminated by constant flashes, the boy entered a slow jog. As much as he preferred to explore at his own leisure, he feared getting stuck in a severe storm might dampen his memory of this particular excursion. However, he couldn’t keep his hurried speed for long.

As soon as he entered the forest, he had to slow down. The trees were standing rather close to each other and it was hard to make out where one was going at times. Luckily, undergrowth was barely an obstacle here, quite unlike some other forests he knew from his home. Still, the occasional root growing out of the forest floor caused him to stumble awkwardly a few times.

Just as he passed by a large boulder in the midst of tall trees, some of them even growing on its steep walls, a faint sound reached his ears which caught his attention immediately. Coming from the other side of said rock, Littlefoot's curious nature got the better of him rather quickly. As no thunder was disturbing the calm atmosphere yet, only the leaves rattling in the wind to some degree, the longneck knew he still had some time left before things would get rough. With refueled excitement, he followed what almost sounded like a faint voice. Maybe he wasn’t alone?

About halfway there, Littlefoot knew that his ears hadn't deceaved him. Clearly audible, the sound of silent sobbing rang through the cool air. Immediately, the boy perked up, listening very closely.

Oh no! Someone is crying over there. Must be a child, probably a girl.

Heavy sobs became ever so apparent as he approached. Whoever was behind that corner was going through a rough time, that much he could tell. The boy knew all too well what it meant being so upset that sleep seemed beyond one's grasp. And he hoped to never experience such hopelessness ever again.

At that moment, he wished he'd still be able to feel his mother's presence but it had vanished along with the blinky lights in the sky as soon as clouds replaced them. Maybe that dinosaur was all alone, in need of comfort? Littlefoot was known to be a very kind and compassionate longneck at heart. As such, there was no way he'd brush someone aside who possibly needed help. Frankly, he could worry about getting home later.

Whether the dinosaur in question was sobbing because of pain, sadness or fear remained to be seen but Littlefoot was keen on finding out. With determination, the purple-brown colored longneck marched around the corner. The boulder, almost tall enough to classify it as a mountain, had a significant notch here, almost as if trying to become a cavern. The ceiling formed a small, well protected space. A silhouette could be seen, flashing up against the faint light of the stroboscopic lightning, cowering inside. Although a little hard to tell due to the fetal position the crying dinosaur was displaying, the neck and tail quickly gave the child's species away.

A longneck child crying all alone...

Had Littlefoot just stumbled upon an orphaned child just like him many years ago? Judging by size, it must've been about his age too. Curious and anxious at the same time, the boy approached with slow, careful steps.

"Uhm, hello?"

Littlefoot felt a little awkward to intrude onto a stranger like that but his urge to help was greater than his doubts. Truth be told, he had no idea how to talk to a crying longneck and a girl on top of that. Unfortunately, he had given away his presence before having a proper plan in mind so he supposed winging it was all he could do now.. Awkwardly, he spoke up.

"Are you o…”

A prolonged wail escaped from the other dinosaur just at that moment, cutting through the air for several seconds until it finally transitioned into a pained exhale. Stunned into silence, Littlefoot delayed the rest of his message.

“... No, I guess you aren’t okay?"

The other longneck child, upon picking up his words, momentarily suppressed her heavy sobs as she realized that she had some company. Littlefoot observed carefully as the child slowly untangled its legs, entering a sitting position in order to see who had just spoken to her. As lightning flashed to his left, many tears were briefly visible on the longneck’s face, a distinct expression of depression painted all over it.

"I heard you cry while I was out here taking a walk,” he stammered, almost fearing an accusatory response due to intruding but the female’s gaze was hollow and devoid of aggression, barely taking note of him. Uncertainly, he elaborated.

“I kind of couldn't sleep, see? A-anyway… Do you need help?" Littlefoot wondered, speaking calmly with a neutral yet kind and understanding voice though he couldn’t entirely mask his awkwardness. After all, talking to girl longnecks wasn’t exactly a field he could consider himself experienced in.

"Don't mind me..."

The dinosaur spoke, further confirming her gender to be female, however her brittle, shaky voice was hardly audible over the ruckus the leaves were causing overhead. Littlefoot had to step a little closer to catch what she was trying to communicate.

"I... I do not... I do not..."

But she didn’t get any further as a wet sob shook her heavily, the girl breaking down into a pile of misery. Littlefoot sighed at the sight as a strong feeling of pity washed over him. Her behavior and body language left little doubt; this girl was going through hell. It reminded him too much of his lonely nights so many years ago...

"You are all alone," Littlefoot mentioned understandingly, a bit of sadness slipping into his voice as he could relate. "Where is your herd, your family?"

The girl's state of mind deteriorated even more as he said these words. He had definitely hit a nerve. Feeling terrible as he probably just made her feel worse, he quickly added.

"I know how terrible it feels to be lonely at night…"

Quietly, he walked even closer to the crying child.

"I can stay a little until you feel better, how does that sound?"

The child's response came with a lot of delay but she eventually edged ever so slightly to the left, allowing for another longneck to fit next to her. Littlefoot understood the gesture, taking the seat he was being offered by the weeping girl.

"You don't look hurt,” he said as he took a closer look at her features. He could barely tell her color due to the darkness but a distant lightning strike eventually told him that her sides were yellow while her back took more towards a wooden brown. Her body appeared rather thin and bony, almost as if she was skipping meals regularly just as he had done back then…
 
“I guess you're missing someone very special, aren't you?"

Littlefoot didn't know the other child at all but her behavior was basically screaming at him, revealing her tragic situation. He needn't ask for confirmation nor did he intend to ask about the details. All that mattered now was to quench the constant flow of sobs that erupted from her chest almost as frequently as lightning struck in the distant skies.

"It's alright, I know how you feel. I really do.”

Littlefoot made a weak attempt to comfort her, speaking in a calm, soothing voice now which turned her uncontrolled, heavy outbursts into a more controlled and regular form of weeping. He really couldn't do much but sit next to her, occasionally speaking a word or two of comfort.

Those cries reminded him so much of his former, younger self who wailed for the mother he no longer had. Whatever the cause, Littlefoot had to do his very best to help soothe the other longneck's desperate cries for he knew the pain of losing what's dearest to someone.

*

Time seemed to stand still. For Littlefoot, it felt as if an eternity had passed when in truth it couldn't have been more than half an hour at best. Either way, the continuous heavy crying eventually turned into a series of quiet sobs, the girl finally leaning against him in mute support. That was when Littlefoot’s interest shifted to the weather situation which had deteriorated even more by now.

The strobo-lightning hadn't been able to catch his attention at all while his focus lay on the mysterious girl. As he cast his eyes to the sky for the first time in a while, the lightning appeared to be awfully close, zipping across the cloudy sky like an ever tightening network of electricity. He'd been ignoring the distant thunder rolling across the land too, however it was now close enough to be heard even over the girl’s, now silent cries.

“Dang, I forgot about the storm…” Littlefoot lamented quietly, in the process catching her attention much to his surprise.

"A storm?"

The girl looked up for the first time in what seemed like ages. Her tear-stained eyes immediately took notice of the permanent lightning, the wind now really strong and gusty but still blowing towards the storm which meant that it hadn’t arrived just yet. Littlefoot could see as he cast his gaze to the sky while peeking through the treetops that a peculiar cloud formation - a wall-like barrier of doom, slowly approached, flanked by constant lightning and angry sounding thunder which was getting ever so close. Uncomfortably close.

"Damn, there's no way now I'll get back to my folks in time..." Littlefoot muttered quietly as he continued to gaze up into the sky observantly. Clearly the skies were angry that night but he didn’t particularly mind. Storms, while posing a significant threat to dinosaurs when turning severe, were also extremely intriguing and exciting to observe in Littlefoot’s opinion. Still, they could be kind of scary at night.

"Sorry... I'm so sorry..."

The girl lamented as a fresh layer of tears covered her face quickly. Thick, frequent tears... Littlefoot felt so sad seeing them fall from her face. It almost made him tear up as well after being stuck with her pain-stricken wails for so long already. But now was a poor time to remember his mother. Not when someone else needed him.

"Don't worry.”

Littlefoot tried to keep his voice calm, not only assuring the girl but reassuring himself as well.

"This place looks like it's sheltered rather nicely. Let's just hold out here until the storm passes."

Just as those words escaped his lips, occasional thick raindrops began bombarding the ground.

"I'm scared, I'm so scared!"

The girl suddenly panicked, tears splattering in every direction as she shook her head wildly. "They scare me so much..."

"Storms?" Littlefoot inquired. When she nodded, he elaborated. "Well, they really are a little frightening but also beautiful and exciting in a way…”

The weather didn’t exactly try to underline his statement as a blinding lightning strike turned night into day momentarily, sending the girl leaping in terror.

“Don't worry, we may get a little wet but we're sheltered from the worst. Besides, I'm stuck with you now so you're not alone."

It was hard to tell now whether it was fear or sorrow which had refueled the girl's storage of tears as more and more fell in an unstoppable current, her silent sobs becoming frantic and wild in no time’s notice.

"Storms really do scare you, huh?" Littlefoot stated matter-of-factly though his voice had a weak sound to it as well. Even if he didn't want to admit it, being in a storm separated from his grandparents was more than unpleasant. The girl’s presence sure helped to ward off the anxiety of being all alone in a severe storm, and Littlefoot could only hope that the same was true in reverse.

A quick look at the trembling longneck, however, was more than enough to tell that she was far less reassured by his company than vice versa. Nevertheless, he was clearly needed right now..

"Don't - Don't go!!!"

It wasn't the answer Littlefoot had requested but there was little doubt that the girl was intimidated to the point of crying. The boy quickly deduced that the girl must have gone through some traumatic experiences relating to thunderstorms. He had hit yet another nerve and, consequently, began working furiously on fixing the damage he'd done.

"I’ll keep you company until this is over. Don’t worry, I’ll protect you."

A tear-stained set of sky-blue eyes met his own reddish-brown counterparts as a nearby lightning strike turned the night into day for a brief second. Anxiety and fear were radiating off her, prompting Littlefoot to reinforce his message.

"It's a promise, alright? I'm..." Littlefoot gulped as lightning struck in the black clouds above," Honestly, I'm a little frightened myself."

The girl sobbed heavily, cowering in fear.

"Wi-will you really protect m-me?" she inquired, covering her eyes from the light of the constant lightning. Littlefoot didn’t need to consider his answer.

"Sure. A promise is a promise."

He sighed as the wind suddenly changed direction violently, picking up in intensity now.

"There's no need to worry, please calm down."

But his words of reassurance fell onto deaf ears. A crack of lightning sent the girl into the furthermost corner of their small shelter with a jolt, hiding her head underneath her many limbs. The booming thunder that resembled an angry Smoking Mountain to a frightening degree made Littlefoot back off as well.

Rain drops as large as his toes were splattering the ground. A black wall of mist suddenly encloaked the forest, soaking everything within seconds as if the sky had decided to dump the entire volume of the Thundering Falls onto them at once. The wind roared through the canopy of the forest, creating so much noise along with the extreme downpour that Littlefoot could barely distinguish the booming thunder anymore.

After the initial battering, the rain decreased for just a few seconds before hail replaced it entirely. Quickly growing in size, each impact sent water splashing into the air now that the floor was starting to flood.

Littlefoot may have promised to protect the trembling longneck, who uttered screams of terror every so often, but the ferocity of the storm was stronger than his guts. Trembling, he felt helpless against the forces of nature, retreating as deep into the hideout as the girl allowed.

Lightning permanently illuminated the forest though the heavy precipitation reduced visibility to literal zero, blurring vision of trees a mere few meters away. When water began trickling into their hideout, the girl began crying in a wild panic as if a sharptooth was about to sink its teeth in (which was an experience the boy had made a little too often for his liking in the past). To their luck, the wind was blowing from the other direction which at least spared them the trouble of being hit by berry-sized hailstones which quickly came floating into their shelter, accumulating around their trembling bodies.

As soon as the boy had gotten over his initial fear, he ceased to follow her example of hiding his head. Leaning over her body caught in violent spasms, he began to comfort her. Truth be told, the efficiency of his gestures and words could be compared to teaching a treestar how to talk (or teaching Petrie proper grammar for that matter) but Littlefoot couldn't bear to watch while doing nothing.

Soon, as thoughts of his mother began to mix with his fear and the girl's pained cries, he, too, began to tear up, resolving to mere body contact as a means to console not only the girl but himself too. Although not nearly as severe, a storm had haunted the lands too back on that day when he exchanged words with his mother for the final time. Frankly, had he been alone, he might have ugly cried as well. But the girl continued to shake and tremble against his body, giving him just about enough comfort to keep his cries silent and private.

*

As the freezing cold rain finally slowed in intensity, the thunder rolling across the land less furiously than it had for the last hour, Littlefoot reckoned that his mother must have been there to protect him all along, even making sure he'd have some company (although he could hardly call a quivering bundle of misery good company). Surely, it couldn’t have been a coincidence that the wind carried the harmful hail away from them and that the little cove didn’t flood entirely, right?

The thought made him feel a little better. Soon, his tears stopped flowing from his eyes. The girl continued to sob in the corner, oblivious to the weakening storm. Littlefoot couldn’t comprehend how someone could cry so much but the boy was too kind to ask and too unaware of the exact circumstances to judge. Besides, hadn’t he cried for hours back when he had learned about his mother’s death?

"Look, the storm is weakening," he eventually spoke while poking her back gently with his nose. "You can relax now..."

The little longneck rose from her crooked pose for the first time in ages to make sure for herself. It was only now that Littlefoot became aware of a funny odor seemingly rising from the water which had risen up to his lower belly. It took no genius to figure out what must have happened to the girl in her extreme fright. Frankly, Littlefoot couldn't blame her for it.

"S-seems l-like it..." she wailed quietly, still jerking at every distant thunder reaching her ears. Littlefoot did his best to speed up the process of her calming down. At last, he succeeded. Once she was ready, the little longneck piped up with a weak, shameful voice.

"S-sorry, I..."

She seemed so fragile at that moment that Littlefoot decided to cut her short no matter what she was going to apologize for.

"Whatever it is, don't worry about it. I... cried a little too... but everything is alright now!"

Though, as Littlefoot awkwardly looked at the water they were standing in, something did bother him after all. "Uhm, perhaps we should move out. The rain that’s still falling does no harm and we’re kind of soaked anyway."

The child looked as if she was about to die in shame. Littlefoot had tried to be sensitive about it but his comment had busted it nonetheless. Cursing, he quickly elaborated.

"It happens when you're scared, forget about it," Littlefoot grunted, more annoyed with his faux pas than reprimanding her for her bashful behavior. "Come, follow me."

Littlefoot led them out into the open. Rain still fell in streaks, the ground flooded with muddy, brown water, however the individual raindrops were small as opposed to the small bombs that were dropping earlier. Remains of hail, some of which still hadn’t melted, floated on the surface along with various parts of the foliage that ripped off the trees, accumulating at random. A few trees looked like they'd taken some damage from the fierce windstorm too which had thankfully subsided, only a gentle breeze brushing the landscape around them now.

"My folks will be worried about me so I've gotta make my way back to them soon," he said as soon as they were standing in the open. Littlefoot noted that the girl still eyed the distant lightning bolts as though they could return to haunt her any time. "Well, we probably won't meet again but still... if there's something I can still do for you..." Littlefoot was suddenly very interested in a piece of wood floating past as an odd feeling crept up his neck.

"I'm beyond help," the little longneck said in a tragic tone. "Just..."

She sighed in rejection as a single tear fell. "Just... go. Y-you've done enough for me already..."

"B-but," the little boy protested. He felt terrible at the mere thought of leaving the wreck she was behind on her own. "But... you're all alone!" With a side glance, he added. "Aren't you? That’s how it looks to me anyway."

The girl gave a hollow reply.

"Mhm… you are alone too..."

"My herd's just around the bend though, I was heading back from a stroll when I found you all alone," Littlefoot explained quickly.

"You could've gotten there in time if you'd just kept on going!"

Littlefoot shot a bewildered gaze at the longneck who, upon closer observation, didn't have a flat head like he did but a thick bumpy skull. He knew from his grandparents that some types of longnecks sported various sorts of variations like spiked backs and bumpy heads but this was the first time he actually saw one of them live.

"Why didn't you just go like anyone else would?!"

The bewilderment quickly turned into fully-grown confusion. Just what was this girl fussing about? Hadn't she been oh so glad about his company during the storm?

"Well, I was worried about you," Littlefoot responded indignantly, feeling warmth creep into his face despite the cold water making him shiver a little. “You were crying as if something was seriously wrong…”

"Worried about someone you don't even know?"

The longneck couldn’t tell what the girl was alluding to, much to his irritation.

"Well, yeah..." Littlefoot admitted, somewhat flustered at having to explain the most normal thing in the world. "What's wrong with that?"

"N-nothing..." she replied quietly, looking away so he wouldn’t see the expression on her face. Needless to say, Littlefoot hadn't gotten any wiser.

"W-well, I guess I should thank you... though I never asked..."  She fidgeted around awkwardly. " I-it helped me survive the storm... n-not that I care... but... I’m terrified of them but... anyway..." She broke off, bowing her head so deeply that it splashed into the muddy water.

"No need to thank me," Littlefoot answered calmly, a slight chuckle slipping from his lips at the display. Carefully, he lifted a front leg, raising her head as high as his leg would go up for there was little need to bow. Instead, he started to talk, trailing off in the process.

"There was a time when I was younger... I was alone on my own, I cried so much..."

"Oh?"

Finally, he had caught her mild interest.

"Well, yeah," the boy confirmed. "When I saw you crying there all on your own... I saw myself. I saw myself there, alone, desperate... and afraid. I thought that, maybe..."

Littlefoot sighed so heavily as if he was about to start sobbing himself.

"Well, I thought you needed me anyhow..."

The girl suddenly mustered him with a completely different expression. Even though faint and brittle, she attempted to smile.

"Looks like I did."

The rain had finally diminished to a dripple to both longnecks' joy. Suddenly, Littlefoot didn’t know what to say, fidgeting around awkwardly until the other longneck resumed the chat.

"What is your name, kind boy? Mine is... "

She delayed her words for a bit as if rethinking her decision. "It's Lizzie."

"Littlefoot," Littlefoot exclaimed, returning the smile as Lizzie began to show a side to her which he actually liked. "Funny name, I know."

"You see, Littlefoot," Lizzie continued, the smile already replaced by her usual sad mask. "I actually find comfort in the loneliness under the starry sky at night. I'm not all alone; there is someone who is looking after me but..." her head hung so low that it touched the water surface thus making her jerk up again.

"You don't have to tell me the details if it makes you feel terrible," Littlefoot quickly piped up before the girl could find another reason to tear up. "I think you've cried enough for a night as it is..."

"Maybe..." she admitted a little downheartedly. "Crying is just as normal for me as eating or sleeping."

Littlefoot was just about to reconsider his decision not to intrude on the girl's hardship when the conversation shifted.

"How come you were up in the middle of the night anyway, Littlefoot? You said you couldn't sleep, didn't you?" She caught the boy's nod. "I generally can't sleep at night..."

Littlefoot chose to ignore the latter comment but, instead, the girl had brought up a new topic which the boy hadn't considered yet when, given the reason for his journey, it was strikingly obvious.

"Had a nightmare and couldn't get back to sleep after that," he explained with a grain of annoyance, prompting a response just as he had thought.

"Are you getting them a lot?" Lizzie requested apprehensively. "I mean..."

"Yes?" Littlefoot prompted her in anticipation.

"Umm, I rarely sleep at night but… whenever I do…”

"... you get the same nightmare again and again?"

Lizzie suddenly looked rather excited by her standards as Littlefoot completed her sentence.

"Yes! It's so weird and annoying... it leaves you restless..."

A thought must have popped up in her mind as she scanned Littlefoot thoughtfully.

"So... it made you restless as well, didn't it? That's why you were wandering around at night?"

"Precisely," Littlefoot smiled. "I'm getting a sense of adventure after I wake up sometimes and this area seemed nice enough to explore."

"Are you migrating?"

"Sort of," Littlefoot laughed, happy to hold a proper conversation now. "Call it an adventure into the unknown... because that's what it is. My grandparents and I are merely following our instincts and all longnecks we met on our journey were headed the same way."

"Something great is about to happen..." Lizzie mumbled quietly, shrieking as she noticed Littlefoot's curious glance. "E-even a worthless kid like me can feel it huh? We've kinda been walking a certain way as of late anyway..."

"Wanna join us?" Littlefoot promptly called as any doubts had cleared that they were feeling the same thing. Lizzie, though, looked taken aback.

"I... don't think so, sorry..."

Upon his inquisitive glance, the girl explained.

"Both I and the old longneck looking after me... we're outcasts..."

"Everyone is minding their own business on this journey," Littlefoot spoke, trying to persuade the girl. "Nobody will mind you."

"No... I think we both would rather stick to ourselves... I... certainly do..."

Lizzie looked thoroughly sad as she said these words and Littlefoot could tell a small part of her didn't want to separate from him again. A feeling he reciprocated too.

"You sure about that? If you ask me..."

Littlefoot was about to make a comment on how lonely and sad she'd been but quickly silenced when he saw fresh unshed tears glimmering in her eyes.

"I know, Littlefoot, but this is for the best... I've been like this for too long and I'd be a burden to you. Please go on ahead..."

Littlefoot gave her a sad glance as he saw the tears flowing again.

"I'm not really happy about it but if that's your decision I'll accept it, Lizzie."

Lizzie sobbed in response, her head hanging dangerously low again.

"Sorry, Littlefoot..."

Her state seemed to deteriorate again. Littlefoot frantically  searched for words that could calm her before she'd break down completely again.

"Hey, it's alright," the boy spoke softly, nuzzling the girl quickly before realizing how weird it was to nuzzle someone he’d just met. Breaking away, he instead offered something equally comforting.

"We can still be friends, Lizzie."

"Why?"

She cried as though she hadn't understood a single word.

"Why me? Me who always cries, who always..."

"I like making friends and I'm sure you can be fun if you want to."

Littlefoot grinned.

"It doesn't matter where we are either. Friends are friends no matter where they are. So, you wanna be friends, Lizzie?"

Littlefoot adorned his offer with an encouraging smile.

The supply of tears slowed as the girl pondered hard. Finally, though, she'd made up her mind.

"Sure, you're r-really n-nice, L-littlefoot, l-let's be fr-friends."

Littlefoot had to laugh because watching Lizzie try not to slip a sob after every word was quite hilarious. He could tell the fresh tears dribbling into the pool of muddy water below weren’t sad tears anymore and that realization filled him with some level of comfort. Quickly returning to a more serious tone, he added.

"Hey, aren't you heading to the same place after all? We might as well meet again wherever that journey leads us!"

Littlefoot was getting excited about this as he spun this thought further. Another longneck he considered his friend quickly entered his mind before Lizzie's response drove her out of his thoughts again.

"That would be amazing, I..."

The girl dried her tears as she was clearly pondering with a look of concentration. Whatever was going through her mind, Littlefoot deduced, must've been very important so he granted her enough time to finish her sentence.

"Littlefoot, I really hope that we do meet again!" she exclaimed with sudden determination just as the Night Circle broke through the clouds. "Let's make a promise!"

"A promise?" Littlefoot tilted his head in slight amusement. "What kind of?"

"Promise me that we'll meet at the end of our journey! I'll do the same!"

Littlefoot's bemused glance turned into a kind smile as he understood her ambitions.

"We can't travel together but..."

Lizzie felt a surge of sadness rise up from her stomach but she drove it off fiercely.

"I've finally found someone to call a friend even though I'm such a - such a wreck. I-I'll tell you everything if you just wait for me! We... we're not that fast..."

"I promise," Littlefoot stated with a kind smile which made the girl beam at him. Though his own joy quickly dropped again as a familiar feeling suddenly overwhelmed him. He yawned; it was time to say good-bye.

"Lizzie, I'll be joining back with my folks now, you'd better return to whoever's looking after you too," Littlefoot spoke with a glint of regret in his voice. He really didn't want to break away from a friend he'd only just made; a friend who'd need his company more than anyone else he knew but the girl had long since made her decision even if she herself hadn't been listening to her heart for reasons that were beyond him.

"I will, Littlefoot," Lizzie spoke, both happy and sad.. "Can't wait to watch the great event together that the sleepstories are promising us. Hope we'll get there in time!"

"Safe travels, Lizzie!" Littlefoot called, walking up to her for a quick touch of their noses, a gesture performed among longnecks upon parting from each other. "And remember not to cry so much," he added more seriously to which Lizzie nodded.

"Until we meet again, Littlefoot, stay safe," the girl replied melancholically, returning the gesture readily.

"Seeya!"

Littlefoot gave one more grin before he quickly galloped away with splashing sounds, hurrying towards his grandparents who were probably sick with worry (the boy doubted that they'd have slept through the whole ordeal). Lizzie's eyes followed the boy until he was well out of sight, a single tear running halfway down her cheek but getting no further than that.

She wasn't sad at all. Not right now anyway. More cheerful than she had been in ages, she made her way back to her caretaker. Would she see the boy again? Time would surely tell.

*****

I suppose I should start my author's note with some trivia. Quite contrasting to the setting in this chapter, I wrote this in late 2018 during a beach holiday with my family back when I had just started my ambitions to rewrite Shorty's Dark Past. At the time, I didn't even know if this chapter would end up being relevant in the story. I was merely browsing ideas to fill Littlefoot's journey with some meaningful content not covered by the movie and this is the result.

The original chapter from 2018 naturally received some amount of editing to be consistent with my current writing and formatting style but I mostly left it untouched, just working on wordflow, descriptions and formatting.

I've always wanted to use a proper thunderstorm in my stories because I'm quite a geek in that area lol. I hope it shows in my descriptions 

Weirdly enough, this is also the 2nd time a standalone chapter from SDP's distant or not so distant future ends up being released as a short story and both times Littlefoot remembers his mother. Weird coincidence, huh?  Well, it seems like a nice theme to explore during the adventuring part and I could reuse it later during the storm.

Perhaps the most interesting development of this short story is, well... Lizzie 

I had her character mostly decided by that time (minus the bumpy head iirc) but she hadn't made an appearance in SDP yet back when SDP 1 was still ongoing. She did appear in a RP that's been so god-awfully long ago that I forgot its name. Real shame it died, was a fun project at the time. Either way, if you're wondering: Yes, it's that Lizzie. She'll eventually play a role in SDP, one that's impossible to anticipate at this point which is why I felt safe enough to upload this without giving anything major away that could be considered a spoiler of sorts.

Theories are welcome of course. Those who know me... I love my plottwists and leave them hanging in the air for years  .

It's really nice uploading something again and I hope the fanfiction area of this forum still receives some viewers despite being near dead for a year and a bit now. I do intend to liven things up in the foreseeable future (see my post on SDP as well) and I hope some of you might end up reading and enjoying this little short story. 

Hello again, everyone.

This will be the last post in this topic from me (replies and reviews aside) and it serves as an announcement (primarily) and some context + lifeupdates (secondly)

Shorty's Dark Past 3.0

If my previous post left any doubts, I've had nearly a full year to mull things over. I'm finally confident that this will be the final version of the story and one that I hope to upload with a schedule in mind as opposed to spontaneous uploads I'm known for.

Important Information:

1.) Uploads on the 1st and 16th day of any month (bi-weekly but actually two chapters a month).

--> It feels draggingly slow when considering that the story yet again begins at the beginning (who would have thought  ) but I have to promise a schedule that I can keep. At current, I'm happy if I can dedicate one day a week to writing and that's only if I manage not to screw my sleep schedule over with my erratic shift plans. Early chapters are less work, later chapters will be a lot of work. It's a compromise and I hope that, given how slow this story has been historically, you won't mind that it'll take me a year to catch up to the point 2.0 left off and two years (unless something major changes) until the oasis arc can finally begin.

2.) Even though it is a bit of work, I'll post directly on the forum as opposed to linking to ff.net (naturally, I'll crosspost there as always)

3.) What can you expect from this version?

--> In general, improvements to writing style, grammar and use of paragraphs.

--> Although 2.0 never got far enough to show this, 3.0 will have a lot more streamlined character arcs and chapters will be arranged in a more logical way.

--> The beginning will be different. Yes, you heard that right. I've been debating for many months on and off because both a new idea and the old chapters worked really well as an introduction. A future character arc (many years in the future, if we keep this schedule) needs the former introduction chapters for better logical flow and this is one of the main reasons this is 3.0 and not 2.1.

--> Some side characters (mostly OCs) will have an even bigger role than they would have played 2-3 years ago when I stopped working seriously on 2.0. You may see some characters earlier than you might expect if you've read the old story. Shorty's Past will get an entire arc that'll be large enough to work as a standalone but that's also many years into the future so why do I even mention this? 

--> for now, mostly expect a few heavily remodelled chapters, very few entirely new ones and some that largely remained untouched plot-wise. It'll be similar, but a little different.

4.) Out-of-schedule uploads

--> I am going to upload the refined version of the prologue for 3.0 to open the story.

--> I would also like to upload a teaser of sorts as a standalone one-shot story until it gets included in SDP later. Consider it a sneak-peak for now as I'd like to offer you something new at least  . It likely won't spoil anything, just show a part of the story that 2.0 never managed to reach. Once it's up, I'll link it here.

5.) some life updates / circumstances relevant to the revival of the story (you can tune out here, if you're not interested in personal matters)

I've had another very tough year both at work and in private. I'm actually writing this from work (nightshift) due to the lack of time I have available during my leisure time recently.

Since my last update in January, another 200 hours - or 5 weeks of additional work rendered me heavily incapable of doing creative work. Things are looking good for next year though so I'll keep my hopes up that I can use these 200 hours for things other than work once we're no longer understaffed. 

The main positive thing I experienced over the course of this year is a writing contest I, admittedly, rather spontaniously decided to participate in. But let's not mention that I did a very Ducky-like thing and didn't meet the deadline

I've been a fanfic writer since I've started out here on this forum nearly 11 years ago but I've never done original fiction so this writing contest really taught me a lot. Many professional writers or those aspiring to be took part in this writing contest and some of them left some groundbreaking feedback which can be applied to SDP 3.0 and all of my other projects now, should I ever feel like reviving them.

I've also discovered some useful resources and learned a lot from just reading other writers' stories. Reading is the best way to learn writing and I feel like there's a lot I have learned and I hope this is going to reflect in 3.0.

*****

I suppose that's it for 2.0. I'll see you in 3.0 

LBT's advice is definitely very solid for keeping a story going, I can only second all of it.

Excuse me if I misunderstand this but do you actually have a certain idea in mind already or is this more of a "I want to write a fanfic for the sake of writing a fanfic" thing?

If it's the former, write that idea down. First super rough (summary of the entire story in a paragraph or two) or try to write a synopsis. You need to know how it starts, you need to know how it ends. Now there are probably key scenes you already have in mind "like an important fight or a character death). Write all of that down and then all you need to do is: "So how do I get from A to B without any plotholes?" Ideally, you'd write a chapter plan (just really short summaries of scenes and chapters you can use as a guidelines so you'll always know what's next) Your characters are making decisions, taking action, have feelings and emotions that play into why they act the way they do. If you want to write a decent story, you'll have to think at least this far about your setting and characters, otherwise you'll likely end up with something neither you nor your readers will be satisfied with. Writing takes preparation, keep that in mind. I wrote my first stories with almost no planning and they all eventually got stuck along the way because I hadn't thought things through.

If it's the latter: A story without an idea isn't a story. Unless you have a concept in mind, writing a fanfiction will be futile. Not to discourage you but a harsh truth is sometimes better than a sweet lie. And a story you write just for the sake of it rather than because you're really invested into that idea, is going to yield similar results. Please keep that in mind.

Good luck with your project.

IIRC, I think I started this way back but only when you took over this really became a popular thing for a while. I'm glad we had so many entries over the years (a lot less from me than I'd like to admit) but sometimes life if more about the journey than about the results. It's been a great time and we can pick this up any time again if there's enough interest, I guess? 

I wonder if the fanfic challenge is going to meet the same fate? Looking at participation last year 

massive cringe at my previous post 

Uhh, hi again 

I hate using my story yet again for life upgrades but don't worry it'll all tie down to this story again if you don't mind reading a few lines.

It's been almost two years since my last update not just on SDP but on any of my stories that are on hiatus. During late 2021, I finally made the transition from daytime shifts to working nights and weekends at work too (for those who aren't aware, I'm working at a lab specializing at analyzing blood samples and other human fluids for both a small hospital and all sorts of doctors and private clients) which came with unique challenges but also opportunities. Around the same time, I also ended up deciding to support the head of department that joined the lab around the time of my last post. While factually very competent they had... anger issues. They didn't have a 2nd in line so all things considered, I eventually decided to offer taking on that position, hoping that I could influence her in some ways and be someone my co-workers could come to when there were issues. Well, guess what? My boss screwed up big time not long after that and had to be suspended immediately. Guess who now had to run the lab? Yeah... right 

Those who know me probably know that I'm not a person who should be given responsibility but I took on the challenge regardless in spite of my inexperience and lack of soft skills and QM knowledge to run a lab and keep about 20 co-workers organized. To say it was a pain in the ass would be an understatement but I learned a lot not only about myself but also about people and how to deal with them, how to solve problems and how to think ahead in order to stop problems before they are created in the first place. I had a lot of help from my team which encouraged me to do my best even if it hurt my private life considerably.

Unrelated (probably) but around this time we started running into some issues of being understaffed which increased my workload considerably in addition to the additional nights and weekends that I had to work now and all the things I now had to juggle with my regular work (I didn't really get a lot of office time)

I also moved into the city where I work around this same time which came with additional issues and adjustments while increasing he amount of time I had available marginally, however work ate the little difference away.

260 hrs of overtime later, I've finally been demoted back to 2nd in line last month when we found someone to take the job. I'll still have quite a lot on my plate for a few more months as it takes a while to teach what I know but with the addition of new staff being hired too and a possible fusion with another lab on the horizon, I think things should begin to improve for me significantly on that front soon. Maybe I can even reduce my hours for a year or two in order to have some more time to myself? At least financially it wouldn't be an issue as I only have to keep myself fed.

Why am I telling you all of this, you wonder? Well, there are a few reasons.

The first should be obvious: I may have more time for writing in the near future 

The second reason is a bit of a retrospective thing. As you all know, a lot happened. Yes, a lot. I wrote the previous post while feeling quite angry about a lot of things. I've been put through many challenges during the past two years as I made the transition from a young adult preparing for work life to actually participating and contributing to society, even leading people more than twice as old as I am now. I'm 26 now and I think these recent two years have changed me in many ways. I'm starting to accept that I'm actually an adult now. It's still a scary thought but it is what it is. I've started becoming more open towards certain things, broadened my horizon in many aspects of life and, I suppose, I also forgot a little about this forum and its community as well as why I initially decided to stop contributing to it. I'm no longer a dedicated fan of the fandom anymore and that will likely never return (I'm much more active in certain anime communities nowadays) but there's one thing that'll bring me back time and again and that's, yes you guessed it, my stories.

If you made it this far, thanks for reading. From here on, this will be story-related.

A few days ago I hit my 10 years anniversary here on the forum. Crazy to think how much time that actually is and yet how recent it felt when I sat in front of my first laptop excitedly typing random shit without knowing how to write a proper story. But, alas, that's how SDP was born, almost exactly 10 years ago. Kind of sad to think how little it actually progressed over the years. If there's one thing about writing that can't be denied, it's this. It takes time, lots of it. Just having 2-3 hours each day after work just doesn't cut it. It's much easier to relax with a game or a nice anime, chatting with friends or doing the odd chore *shudder* when all you have is this little time.

Time is just one part of the equation though. Just considering the three games I started playing over the course of the previous year and the combined hours I spent playing them yields around 1500 hours and I've been playing other games on and off too. That's time I could have spent writing or otherwise being creative and productive in some ways. We could be at the same point where the first version of the story left off by now but, alas, we're still in the stinking old traveling arc that's so underwhelmingly boring compared to all the things that I have planned for this story. Just thinking about all those plot twists makes me want to write and share them with the world immediately.

But unfortunately writing is never guaranteed to yield results and more often than not the end result is not optimal or even frustrating when forcing yourself to deliver in spite of your mental state. Being "in the zone" can be vital and I haven't been in that zone for well over a year now. I'm enjoying a week off right now and just happened to find some motivation again to continue this story, pick up my old ideas and refine them into something better. I've been in "the zone" for the first time in ages today! I'm just running on caffeine, excitement and really good music at this point but I wouldn't wanna have it any other way.

I think it's about time to get to the point, shall I? 

Even though I've (mostly) been idle as far as my writing is concerned, I learned today that some things have... changed. Not only did I become more grown up and mature, I found out recently, that my writing has taken that next step as well. Since it's been so long, I thought about rereading the story, looking at it as if being a reader rather than the author, taking notes, interpreting and analyzing what's going on while also looking at things a little more critically than I usually would when it comes to my own biased work. I was hoping to find some clues both in the old version as well as in whatever I managed to write of the remake yet in order to figure out some key characterizations of very important characters, characterizations that I cannot reference from the movies due to the nature of this story being vastly different up to point of being unrecognizable from the source material (as it should be) or simply due to the fact that part of the cast consists of OCs with massive relevance to the story.

The restructuring of the story that led to 2.0 in the first place changed many things around and I'm still in the process of figuring everything out as everything that'll happen during the "oasis arc" of the story largely won't be recognizable from the parts I managed to write for the original version of the story before that got cancelled in favor of 2.0. (and the travelling arc increased from around 15 to almost 50 planned chapters which is a net increase of about 500% in wordcount (just an approximation)) It's a decision that I still believe was necessary. I'd been running myself into a lot of issues that ultimately revealed the sheer amount of inexperience apparent in my writing. It was neither beautiful nor meaningful in any way. It was bad, it was the work of an amateur both style- and plotwise. I still loved the core idea and after some time spent observing and rereading, I eventually came up with the restructured and much more detailed version you're probably familiar with now (or at least whatever I managed to upload yet).

I haven't added any content during the last two years but I haven't been entirely idle. Does anyone by chance remember old chapter 37? Yeah, that one actually retelling the things Shorty went through during the childhood that the movies never explained, ultimately leading to him ending up with Bron and a bunch of hatchlings in his wake. Back then, 7k chapters like that one were a feat to feel proud of. As of today, the story starts with a 7k chapter. But I'll get to that later.

As it happens, I was struggling with the portrayal of Shorty, his motivations, feelings and fears the most, preventing any further organization of my ideas into a more streamlined chapter plan that I could rely on. I wrote some random chapters without context or connection to the rest of the story. Key scenes, mostly. Scenes featuring the characters I was struggling with the most to get a better idea of how I want to portray them and how to do things differently from the original. Though, I won't know if they still fit once I get to these parts of the story (anyone wanna bet on how old I'll be whenever that happens? lol).

Coming back to old chapter 37, though, I've actually been working on turning this 7k chapter into a whole little arc within the story that spans several chapters (probably around 50k words alone once it's done) so that's another thing to look forward to in 20 years or so, maybe?

okay, this time for real, here's the thing I've actually wanted to ask you guys

In a sudden turn of events, during the aforementioned rereading session, I randomly began nitpicking on smaller things. At first, I changed some wordings. Then entire sentences. A few hours later, the chapter was twice as long and had some massive improvements over the 2.0 version, entirely new scenes that I was able to write precisely because I had been dabbling with Shorty's past as opposed to just continuing to add content like any sane author would rather do, all fitting within the frame that the 2.0 chapter provided. A similar thing happened with the prologue scene which saw some significant improvements in its writing style (in my opinion) as the 2.0 version was severely lacking some good descriptions to help the scene come alive.

I haven't even gotten past chapter 1 with this rereading session yet and we already have two chapters edited so massively that it'll warrant a full re-upload as those scenes may change your perception of the story and the characters that live, laugh and, most importantly, suffer in it. I don't think every chapter will magically double in size but I'm fairly sure that, in order to provide good consistency, I will eventually have to go over all chapters written so far to apply enhancements linked to my increased experience not only with the story and its planning and plot, character development and world building, but also my increased abilities on the stylistic front.

I know people generally don't recommend rewriting things before they're finished and ready to be edited, however I can be quite a perfectionist and need to reread things either way if I want to continue writing new content for the currently active story line so I suppose there's not much I can do now that the process has already begun.

I would like to keep this story 2.0 regardless, as it's not a major restructuring event, just an upgrade if you will. And I would like to ask you guys for advice, how I should handle this "upgrade". Do you want me to re-upload everything first (since I'm just editing rather than writing from scratch. a weekly schedule should be within the realm of possibility) and then continue the new stuff from there? Would you rather see me replacing the old chapters? Should I keep this topic? Should I perhaps make a new one and let this one die again (lol)? Should I mix re-uploads and new content to balance things? And, more importantly, as ff.net works a bit differently from a forum, what's the best approach over there? Replacing old chapters including my replies to old reviews might not be the best thing to do, admittedly...


Anyone still here lol? You're amazing  I'll just leave this here for now. I probably won't be making any decisions until the end of the month. In the meantime, I hope I didn't bore you with my ramblings and hope to hear your thoughts on this matter when you have some time. I'd really appreciate it, yep yep yep.

Ducky out 

I don't know why but these choices just work for everybody.

Ducky is the cutest I think but they're all adorable in their sleep wear yep yep yep!

Some anime fanart sites I've found over the years (usually called something-booru) use a tag system that lets you search for specific tags, assuming the person who uploaded them did a proper job setting them up. Makes it quite easy to look for references though even with this system it's often hard to find exactly what you're looking for.

I'm pretty sure it's pointless to revive this, I just thought I should mention that such software to host an image gallery of sorts does in fact exist on the internet and (at least in the anime communities) is frequently used.

I just realized I forgot to submit my drawing for Nov-Dez 2021 lmao. I keep forgetting about the forum lol. Maybe  I'll post it one day.

Some of these look really promising by the way