"I'm too old for this." The old male muttered, grinning as he got up.

"That it is..." Grandma looked around as well. "Though some residents are nicer than others. And some problems smaller than others."

He was relieved that he could distract his young one a bit, putting his tail between himself and the charging youngster. "Ah, to be big."

"We all make mistakes." Grandma told her. "But I am certain your parents would not blame you for what happened. Nor should you. It was a terrible accident, nothing more."

"Oh?" The old male got the same mischievous look in his eyes. "Do 'perfect' people have this happening to them?" With one quick movement he brought his tail forward, bowling over his grandson.

"I don't know the exact words - I wasn't there -, but it came down to this: if we remember our loved ones and what they taught us, they will never be truly gone." Grandma gently said.

"Heh, I remember something quite like that happen to someone I knew once." Grandpa smiled fondly at the memory.

"I hope you understand Littlefoot wasn't trying to be mean." The old female settled down beside her. "Just a bit too enthusiastic."

Grandpa reached down with his neck. "It's alright, we all make mistakes once in a while. Once she has calmed down, I'm certain she'll forgive you."

Speed versus big steps equaled an easily found young female. "Nahla?" Grandma hesitantly walked up.

Cera Thinking: Well, at least it's me and Petrie. Imagine Pterano and Dad doing this!

OOC: assuming Zimba is going to post only 'Zzzzzz' for a while, is it okay if I post?

Chapter: 5
Copyright: © characters and places by United Pictures; © Plot and OC by me

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

“I don’t know what your problem is: herd-members look out for one another.” Littlefoot grinned lightly at Chomper.

“Yes, but friends don’t whack friends with SPIKETAILS.” Chomper growled, glaring playfully at Spike, who had swung his tail at the Sharptooth when he nearly ëkilled’ Cera.

“We can have a rematch if you like.” Cera smiled at him.

“One day, we will.” Chomper promised. “Without interferences then.”

“It would be a first though.” Ruby chuckled. “But Chomper, was it just me or did your mother look worried after the fight?”

“Considering I nearly got stabbed by a Spiketail, I would be very upset if she wasn’t.” Chomper countered.

“That’s not what I meant.” Ruby stated. “But just as the wind turned from the arrivals towards her I swear she was seriously startled.”

“Now that you mention it…” Shorty frowned lightly. “When I arrived I seriously thought something had happened to Chomper when I saw her face. And that was before Spike started swinging his tail around.”

The rest now frowned too, thinking back to the battle. But they had been too focused on the mock battle between Chomper and Cera to pay much attention to what was happening on the sidelines.

“Well, by the time I looked at her she had to have gotten over it, because she didn’t look shocked to me at all.” Chomper mused.

“You think she would tell us if we asked?” Cera wondered.

“We can always try.” Chomper answered, rising to his feet to go look for his mother. “I wonder where she is right now…”

“Me look for her.” Petrie took to the skies, climbing high above the treetops. “She with Grandma Longneck!” He called down after looking around for a bit.

“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” Ducky joked.

“They are just like me and Chomper.” Littlefoot agreed.

“Except we don’t go about battling one another or threatening the other’s family.” Chomper pointed out.

“Speaking of that, do you know what your father said to Grandma Longneck to get her that angry?” Shorty asked, speeding up a bit so he could face the Sharptooth. Chomper’s face spoke volumes.

“I don’t think I should tell you guys…” He looked away. “Dad crossed a major line there.”

“How major?” Littlefoot’s eyes narrowed a fraction.

“Major enough to have Grandma threaten to tell Bron and Grandpa so they would tear him apart.” Chomper answered. “Please, don’t make me tell you.”

The evasion of the answer was answer enough. The two Longnecks did not push further, instead walking to where their grandmother was: at one of the water-holes talking in quick Sharptooth with Chomper’s mother.

“I cannot be fully certain, but the only other who could tell us would be Rec and I doubt bringing him in is wise in this situation.” The female Sharptooth was agitated, pacing lightly in front of the Longneck. Neither noticed the young ones coming to a stop just behind the tree-line, listening in on their conversation. “He’d tear through this Valley… Again.”

Grandma groaned softly at that. “When did life become so complicated I wonder? And how come you never noticed before? He lived just a day’s-journey from here, less if you move quickly.”

“We keep to the other side of the Valley because the hunt is better there.” Tyra answered. “Less Valley-residents go that way when they leave, exactly for the reason that there was a lush valley just a day’s-journey from the other side of the valley, meaning less chance for us to accidently kill or wound them while hunting. We can’t keep track of hundreds of different dinosaurs.”

“We should talk to some of the other grown-ups.” The Longneck decided. “And hope Rec doesn’t feel the urge to make one of his rare visits.”[/i]

“Grandma?” Littlefoot spoke up, startling the two older females. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing good, nothing good at all.” She answered. “How much did you hear?”

“Enough to know that Dad would rampage should he find out.” Chomper stepped forward. “Mom, what is wrong?”

“The past is like a Sharptooth having tasted blood: it hunts you until it gets you.” She told her son. “Even if it takes Cold Times to do so… and now the past is about to catch up with your father. Can you do me a favor and get the other grown-ups? Threehorn, Grandpa and the like. And do it quickly.”

Grandma Longneck nodded in agreement, shooing the children off. They obeyed, spreading out over the Valley to collect the ones in charge. The two females stayed behind, Tyra growing tenser by the moment.

Grandma looked over the water-hole to the field where the new arrivals were staying, studying them intently.

When the others reached them both were speaking in hushed tones again, Tyra’s tail twitching in discomfort.

He had been one of the last after all. Damnit... "Okay, where to now?" He asked. Having not been in the Valley the first time they went to the Land of Mist, he had no clue where to go.

Chapter: 4
Copyright: © characters and places by United Pictures; © Plot and OC by me

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

It took quite a while to get the exhausted dinosaurs to safety, most of them needing to be carried by the Longnecks. The three Flyers of the Valley - who had introduced themselves as Pterano, Saphira and Petrie - circled overhead to keep a lookout for the Fast Biters and other Meat-eaters. Petrie, the youngest, had not found any other survivors, leaving the once thriving herds of the forest reduced to a mere dozen tired individuals.

Chomper left them, running ahead to warn both his family and the other valley-residents that they were returning. Soon enough he returned again, taking up his vigil outside the herd.

“Do they enter your valley too?” Hadria was one of the few able to walk under their own power and now looked up to Grandma Longneck.

“Only Chomper and his mother regularly. His sister and father only do so sporadically.” Grandma told her. “And his mother stays mostly around me, while he stays around my grandson and his friends. They don’t really walk around on their own.”

“How did you become friends with them anyway?” The black Clubtail asked.

“Now that is a long story.” She chuckled, as did several other Valley-residents as they remembered that time. “It all began many Cold Times ago when my grandson and his friends – of which Petrie is one – were still young…”

She told them the story as they slowly progressed to the Great Valley. There, in the massive mountains surrounding the fertile valley-floor, they met another Sharptooth, bigger than Chomper and infinitively more threatening.

“This is Chomper’s mother.” Grandma said. “She is named Tyra.” The Sharptooth inclined her head as if in greeting and then simply turned and walked away. “Quite nice, really. Unless you challenge her or threaten her loved ones. She’s far more forgiving than her mate though.”

“Her mate?” Hadria looked scared as she scanned the surrounding mountains.

“Rec. He’s bigger, badder and a lot less inclined to enter the Valley so chances are that you’ll never meet him at any rate.” The Threehorn-female named Tria told her. “But even he listens to reason and is reluctant to kill beyond what he needs to survive, so there’s that.”

“You do realize you are more likely to terrify them than to calm them, no?” Grandma demanded of the pink Threehorn.

“I think your story already did a sufficient job of that.” Tria countered. “What with telling them that a wrong word can cause quite some trouble.”

“It was not that bad…” Grandma countered, frowning. “Everyone got out alive, didn’t they?”

“After you got several more scars.” One of other Longnecks pointed out. The old female said nothing, merely pursing her lips in response. The other Valley-residents chuckled softly again. She soon joined in, shaking her head in exasperation.

She lead them into the valley, where they were briefly introduced to several other residents and then shown to where they could rest and regain their strength.

Only one of them did not fall asleep immediately: the Clubtail-father stayed awake beside his family, glaring lightly as he looked out over the valley-floor.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

The group of the seven young ones gathered near one of the watering holes later that day, talking about the new arrivals excitedly.

“Tria has decided to name the hatchling Platia.” Cera told them. “Said it fitted with her colors.”

“Hopefully after she cleaned her.” Chomper joked. “How is she?”

“Traumatized, but you know Tria.” Cera shrugged. “She’ll have that girl back to her old self – whatever that was – in no time.”

“Yeah, we were lucky that one time, weren’t we?” Ducky mused, remembering that time when they were still young when most of the valley had burned down. “I do think no one died there, did they?”

“If they did, we were not told…” Littlefoot answered. “Everything seemed so much easier back then, didn’t it?”

“Sure did.” Petrie agreed. “Though being big is nice too.”

All of them laughed at that statement.

“At least all of you are now worthy meals.” Chomper threatened, pretending to sneak up on the Threehorn beside him.

Cera’s eyes widened briefly before she wheeled around, facing him. “Wanna see if my horns are worthy too?” She asked smugly, swinging her head from side to side as she advanced a bit.

“You’re on.” Chomper grinned, snapping at her playfully.

“Let’s hope Mr. Threehorn doesn’t come by now, that would be bad, yep yep yep.” Ducky nodded as she and her other friends moved out of the way.

“Depending on how I react.” A deep voice rumbled from behind them. Several of their grown-ups, including Tyra, had walked up on the group, now watching the young Threehorn and Sharptooth with amusement. “At the moment I am more interested in seeing who would win this.”

It seemed it would be neither: Cera had never needed to defend herself before and Chomper had been far from being taught how to hunt Threehorns by his parents. Yet both carried the potential to be formidable…

Tyra lightly started as she sensed someone else watching. She looked away from the mock-battle to see most of the new arrivals looking on, most with worry on their faces. She chuckled softly, calling out to her son. “You must flank her, Chomper. Use your speed to get behind her head-shield!”

Cera meeped ever so softly, knowing enough of the language to realize that she just might be in trouble now.

Chomper grinned at his friend.

“Stay in one place and just turn on the spot to match his movements.” Came the voice of Topps. He himself spoke no Sharptooth at all, but he instinctively knew that the Sharptooth beside him had given her child some pointers. So why shouldn’t he do the same?