Sorry for the delay in my reply  But I agree with what everyone else has said about the exchange prompts, although I think it would be fun to do them once every while. That’s really all I have to say, and apart from that, I’m feeling very enthusiastic about these prompts!! 

Thanks for your feedback, guys! I’m glad you all liked it, as I was pretty proud of the outcome 

And guess who’s actually going to try posting here regularly?  I was already making a bunch of art for Across The Seasons, and figured I might as well continue while I’m still hot, so here’s Nimble caught in a storm and realizing she has no idea where she is. I was thinking of submitting this as an entry for the August fanart prompt, but I’m not sure if it would qualify?? Idk, let me know what you guys think! (also i kinda messed up on her legs, I have no idea what happened there,,,  ) 

Ooh, very nice! I especially like the shading on the tree and the background! I can’t really say much about the anatomy since I’m still learning myself  but it looks correct for the most part. It’s great to see some more art from you!! 

                               Staying Alive


Nimble fought against the sky water and river’s powerful force, barely managing to keep her head above water. She was either being bombarded with wave after wave, or being showered in cold drizzles of sky water. Her mouth was just inches above the water, threatening to wrap her in a thick, inescapable blanket of darkness and unconsciousness. Her focus was, at the current moment, on trying not to drown. Hence, she hadn’t even noticed the swimming biter biding her time and following the fast biter.

She was tired. So, so tired.  Nimble wanted to heed her instinct and let her body rest, but her heart decided against it and forced her to keep moving— to keep fighting. She did, but at the same time , she wondered how long she could keep this up. Not very long, she thought to herself.

Nimble wasn’t even thinking about the swamp anymore. All she could think about was how if she lived through this ordeal,  she would never, never go anywhere near the water again. It simply wasn’t happening.

The unforgiving rapids carried her several miles as the night dragged on, not a single star in sight. All Nimble could see was a vast and seemingly endless expanse of pitch darkness. She was rammed against the walls of the river, her body hitting the solid earth with a deafening sound that made it seem as if she might have fractured something. Combined with the water she inhaled through her nose and all the blunt trauma delivered to her figure, Nimble was in a world of pain.

When the sky water and storm clouds finally began to let up, a light shone over the fast biter. Nimble looked up at the sky, a few hues of blue and light purple visible through the slowly fading clouds. The light above her illuminated the branch of a tree, finally offering her a ray of hope after having endured so much hardship in such a short time. Nimble’s eyes widened, a ghost of a hopeful smile on her face as she braced herself. She waited, and waited some more. Then, in an adrenaline powered flurry, she latched onto the branch, exerting every single ounce of strength in her body, and hoisted herself out of the water.

Below, the swimming biter was suddenly on alert. She propelled herself upwards, towards the surface, where she could see a blurry image of her prey dangling from the branch through the ripples. Opening her mouth wide, she breeched the surface with an unbelievable display of power, sending huge waves of water splashing everywhere.

“AH!” Nimble flinched visibly as the water predator jumped up out of the water, plucking off a few feathers off of her frill, missing her by a few inches. Panicked, she scrambled off of the branch. As long as she was on the tree, she was in danger.

The swimming biter dove back into the water, her dorsal fins in clear sight as she remained near the surface.

Nimble scrambled onto the river bank, her steps sloppy and erratic. The ordeal of the past day had left her weak, with little energy. It was a miracle that she was able to move at all. She glanced behind her, where she could see the swimming biter watching her. Nimble couldn’t help but wonder what was going through the predator’s mind at that moment, but she certainly wasn’t sticking around to find out.

The moment that the fast biter made a run for it, the swimming biter began to climb onto dry land. For many swimmers bound to the water, this was impossible to accomplish. However, her kind had been granted the gift of remarkably powerful fins. Using her front fins, she was able to push her weight across the soggy grass, and grab onto Nimble’s tail with her mouth.

Nimble could have sworn that, in that moment, her heart had stopped. The predator began tugging on her tail, pulling the other towards her mouth. The fast biter growled and dug her claws into the soil, fighting against the swimming biter’s deadly grip.

The swimming biter continued dragging her intended breakfast towards her, regardless of how much resistance was being exerted against her. With one powerful tug, Nimble was knocked off of her feet, landing on her stomach. The swimmer seized the moment and began to retreat back into the water.

“No,” Nimble gasped, once again sinking her claws into the dirt, “No, no, no! Stop!” As futile as she knew her pleading would be, she didn’t want to die like this. She knew that death was inevitable, and that it would come for her one day, but she would know when it did. This was too soon. This was not her time, nor was it the way she wanted to go. She didn’t want to end up in someone else’s belly, never to be heard from again. Her old pack wouldn’t even know that she was dead! No. It couldn’t happen this way.

Another tug. Nimble lost her leverage, but she still fought. Her foot inches away from the swimming biter’s mouth, she slashed her sickle claw across the swimmer’s eye, causing a waterfall of blood to pool from the retina.

Stunned, the swimming biter bellowed in pain, letting go of her prey. Nimble scuffled onto her feet, biting a huge chunk of shimmering flesh out of the swimmer’s back. For once, she would be the one to have the high ground. And for once, she would be the victor.

---

There was a soft, rhythmic chirping noise ricocheting off of the walls of the otherwise silent cave. A small hopper leaped out, unsuspecting and unaware. The small insect’s antennae twitched as he sensed a vibration within the earth. Before he could even act, a mouth chock full of tiny, serrated teeth snatched him up, said teeth grinding against his once impenetrable exoskeleton.

The culprit was a longtail biter, having been lucky enough to wake up at just the right moment and grab a midnight snack.

Crim swallowed her unfortunate prey and thinking nothing of it, she rolled over on her side, exhaling air through her nostrils in short puffs as she slept. As she turned, she felt something sharp, like a tight pinch, poke her in the side. Hissing in pain, she jolted awake. She craned her neck, and began scraping off what appeared to be small bits of pebbles wedged into her scales.

Behind her, where her packmates were sound asleep, Crim could hear a faint rustling sound. Ra was tossing and turning, her mate, Anu, snoring softly with his head on top of her. It was apparent from the less than graceful way that Anu lay sprawled out, leaving his mate little room to get comfortable. There was a low growl, and then a light thud. For a split second, in a single moment of time, it was quiet. Then, Anu’s snoring filled the cave once again.

Scoffing quietly to herself at their antics, Crim began to lay back down in her tiny corner of the cave. Before she could even close her eyes, something grabbed her attention, something that was surprising enough to earn a gasp from the young longtail. It had dawned on her that it was now quiet outside. She could no longer hear the pitter patter of the sky water, or the rumbling of sky fire. She opened her mouth slightly, a hint of an excited grin on her face as she watched the bright circle rise slowly into the sky, as she had done many times before.

Crim could see it now. She and her pack would feast like never before, marking the end of their involuntary fasting of sorts. For a while, she began to lose hope— she feared that the low spirits of her packmates would destroy the pack before any predator would. But after this, she knew for certain that there was nothing— nothing that they couldn’t overcome so long as they kept their faith in each other.

She couldn’t wait to tell Alpha. Actually, she didn’t want to wait. Alpha was a kind and gentle dinosaur who practically raised her, taking great pride in her loyalty to the pack. Surely, he wouldn’t mind. Even if he didn’t take kindly to being awoken from his sleep so early in the morning, he wouldn’t show it to any of his packmates. He had a reputation to maintain, and the pack knew this.

So, Crim hopped onto her feet, her light footsteps barely making a sound as her feet scuffled across the cave floor.

Ra, being an exceptionally light sleeper, sensed the sound of closely approaching footsteps and opened one eye. “Mm...Crim?” She inquired sleepily, a yawn slipping out, “Why are you up so early...?”

Crim stopped in her tracks and looked towards the other longtail. “I’m looking for Alpha,” she answered. No point in lying to Ra. That biter could tell a lie apart from the truth no matter how believable of a story one told. It was a bit freaky, to be completely honest.

“Alpha?” Ra let out another yawn, wearily closing her eyes. “Why...is everything al...alright?”

“Everything’s fine,” Crim assured her  with a smile and the gentlest of chuckles. “I just have some good news to tell him. It’s alright, go back to sleep.”

Ra didn’t need to be told twice. She had fallen back asleep before Crim even finished her sentence.

Taking care to be as quiet as a single drop of water falling onto the earth, Crim made her way towards the back of the cave, to Alpha’s sleeping spot. But when she arrived, only Hathor, the older longtail’s mate was there, the silhouette of her slender form illuminated by the faint light from outside. It was then that all and any excitement on Crim’s features suddenly vanished, for Alpha was nowhere to be found.

---

A light breeze twirled through the air, like gentle hands caressing anything in their path. Concealed within a copse of shaggy-leaved fir trees that towered above the land, Indigo lay in the darkness, twitching and kicking. She clambered over the grass as if she were climbing a mountain, clawing at the soil. It was indeed surprising that she hadn’t awoken anyone with the ruckus she was making. Her brother and aunt didn’t even stir in the slightest.

She awoke suddenly, her sleep story coming to a quick and abrupt end as she jolted upwards, her light blue eyes as wide and round as the night circle watching over her as it grew closer to the horizon, retiring for the night. Indigo had woken up in the nick of time. The faint golden glow of the bright circle was just beginning to peak over the mountains, staining the dark purple skies a warm orange.

Her mouth hung agape in wonder, having never seen the bright circle rise before. It was amazing how she could notice the subtle changes in the color of the sky as the bright circle accelerated, even if these changes didn’t happen all at once.

But as wonderful as it was, nothing would be more wonderful than a decent meal, which Indigo’s stomach made sure to remind her of. She never did get the fish that she was promised, and truthfully, that was rather disappointing. Her stomach groaned, begging for something, even a single morsel, to digest. Indigo bit her lower lip, cooling an arm around her abdomen to muffle the sounds. Her eyes wandered over to the sleeping forms of Amina and Blue, lying peacefully a little ways from her. Slowly, she crawled towards her brother.

She made it about halfway when Blue suddenly let out a growl. Whether he was growling at something in a sleep story or he’d sensed her making her way over to him, Indigo decided that she wanted to maintain her distance from his mouth, and rocked back on her haunches as she searched around for something to reach over and get his attention with, but without getting her hand bitten off in the process.

Then, something caught her eye — a stick, long enough to be a branch. Indigo gasped in delight. It was as if that stick was meant for this moment. Making as little noise as possible, she edged over and grabbed the stick, her hands gripping the bark. Her stomach growled again.

“Quiet, I’m working on it,” she whispered, knowing that she must sound absolutely mad taking to herself.

Indigo extended the stick forwards, wanting to merely nudge her brother awake. This required the utmost precision and care. A single overestimation could prove to be disastrous. As the stick inched closer to the cerulean swift biter, Indigo had to lean slightly forward in order to reach her sleeping brother, whose face was now only a couple of inches away from the stick’s tip.

All of a sudden, Blue stirred, groaning softly. For a minute, it seemed as if he were about to awaken. Indigo watched as he subsequently took a jab at the stick, seemingly still asleep. She flinched and nearly fell over, but made another attempt at rousing her brother. The second time, he managed to graze a small chunk of the bark.

Indigo fell backwards, her trusty stick in hand as she landed not so gently on her rear. She then tossed the stick aside, her heart pounding even as she placed a hand over her chest. I think I’ll just wait until he wakes up on his own...

---

Mila’s teeth, sharper than thorns, gritted and ground against each other as she made every possible effort to keep her rage contained as her friend examined the red spot on her knee. Her tail swished rapidly from side to side, moments away from whacking the crested sharptooth crouching down in front of her. She reminded herself that he was simply trying to help her, and he didn’t deserve her wrath.

Ronan narrowed his eyes, gently prodding her leg with his claw, keeping it in place for a few seconds before removing it. He then prodded her again, touching the wound a few times to see how much pain it was causing her.

“Ro,” Mila grunted in a strained voice, “Cut it out— that hurts— OW!” She hissed, snapping at him in her own defense. “RONAN! PISS OFF!”

The female longsnout produced a loud grunt of effort mixed in with pain as she kneed the crested sharptooth in the stomach with her good leg, effectively knocking him against the wall, into a pile of old dinosaur bones.

“Ugh…” Ronan groaned, tilting his head back as he lay on the floor, dazed and surprised from the blow delivered to his cranium. He growled under his breath, his eyes flitting open, taking a moment to focus. As soon as the light entered his eyes, the crested sharptooth felt a painful throbbing sensation pulsating against his temples. Another groan. “Oh...my head.”

Yariel had his back turned towards the both of them as he laughed to himself. He had volunteered to help treat Mila’s affliction, but Ronan very boldly assured him that he could take care of it. It was apparent how well that turned out.

Ronan instantly caught wind of his friend’s laughter, and  spun around to face him, infuriated. “You must be enjoying yourself,” he snarled, voice laced with contempt.

“I am, actually,” Yariel told him. Despite his usually  serious disposition, the longsnout had an amusing and dry sense of humor, finding enjoyment in watching his friends embarrass and humiliate themselves. “Besides,” he continued, “I thought you could handle it. That’s what you said, no?”

“Go eat a pile of clubtail shit, Yariel,” Ronan retorted maliciously, rising to his feet and dusting himself off.

“Excuse me!” Mila’s irritable voice yelled from the slightly elevated ledge she laid upon, her lame leg sticking out like a sore thumb. “If you two idiots are done bickering, I’d like some actual help!”

Ronan scowled at her, insulted by her comment. How dare she? He stopped whatever he was doing to ease her pain and got kicked in the gut for it, and she had the audacity to ask for some actual help? She was so infuriating, he just wanted to— he didn’t even know. All he knew was that Mila was one of the primary sources of his stress.

Yariel quietly observed his friend throwing some sort of a temper tantrum, and had to hold back a snicker. “Don’t feel bad, Ro,” the longsnout assured him through bursts of laughter, “She’s just cranky because she’s hurt.”

Ronan huffed as Yariel made his way to the ledge which Mila rested upon. He could see the redness of her wound from a distance, a true testament to how deep the scrape was. The longsnout sat on the balls of his feet, bringing his snout towards the site of the injury.

“It’s still bleeding?” He mused, narrowing his eyes in deep and intense thought. He leaned in closer. “There’s some dirt inside.” He glanced over at Mila, whose expression gave away that she was in a great deal of pain. “Hold still. Let me see if I can get it out...” Yariel took his claw, using the sharp edge to try to scrape away the dirt that had collected in the open wound.

Despite Yariel’s well intentioned attempts to prevent an infection, he was only causing Mila more pain. Mila could feel his claws cutting into her exposed skin, but tried to withhold the urge to kick him away like she did with Ronan. Surely, Yariel knew what he was doing. Right?

Once again, she found herself gritting her teeth as she turned her head away from him, facing the ground. The pain burned through her leg, like a fire that suddenly flared up from out of nowhere and was now destroying everything in it’s path. She felt warm; was she dying? Most likely not, but she wouldn’t know, as she couldn’t quite feel anything. Strange and a bit frightening...but surprisingly blissful.

Yariel’s expression was somewhat unreadable. He looked resolutely determined, but also bewildered, and almost hesitant. It was the exact expression of someone who thought they could help, but quickly began to find that they couldn’t. He looked down at his blood covered claws, and then at the cut, which was suddenly deeper than he remembered. He looked mortified, an expression that neither Ronan nor Mila had seen in him. Ever.

Ronan, who had noticed the flame of Yariel’s self assurance flickering, forgot all  about his anger, which was truly just annoyance at having being knocked into a wall, treaded cautiously forward. “Yariel? Everything okay?”

Yariel craned his head towards Ronan, his green eyes containing the slightest hint of fear. The longsnout then shook his head, which made Ronan’s heart sink. Both he and Yariel cast a glance towards Mila, who was surprisingly unreactive. She was no longer resisting or fighting, which was never a good sign for her.

“Mila?” His voice was shaky and unconfident. He sounded like a completely different dinosaur. “I’ll be right back.” There was a soft crack as he stood upright, making his way to the other.

Ronan watched with anticipation as the other approached him, waiting expectantly for him to speak.

“I think I may have done more harm than good,” Yariel explained in a low voice, his eyes still focused on the fresh streaks of blood staining his claws. “I shouldn’t have tried to help. My claws are too sharp...they ended up cutting deeper into her flesh.”

“Alright then, what should we do? We can’t just leave her like this!” Ronan’s voice was filled with a sense of urgency. He was terrified, not only because he might lose the dinosaur that was essentially his tracker, but also because he might lose one of his closest friends, who had always tried her best to look out for him. Part of him wished he’d never pursued that fast biter during the flood, but he’d damned if he was going to admit that out loud. He’d never hear the end of it if he did.

Yariel pondered for a moment, tapping his chin with his blood mottled pointer claw. “Well, there is someone...”

---

The fast biter’s steps were unsteady and unsure as she stumbled across the grass. She’d managed to evade a trio of sharpteeth out to get her, nearly drowned twice, and engaged in battle with a determined and hungry swimming biter— all in the span of a few hours. She didn’t know how she was still standing, but she was.

Using all of her might, Nimble dragged the corpse of the swimmer by the tail fin, forcing it ashore. Her feathers were covered in dirt and blood from her most recent scuffle. But her haggard appearance and the fact that she was alive showed who had emerged victorious, and who would feast upon the other.

However, Nimble hardly felt victorious at all. She felt uneasy and sick to her stomach, as if something was bubbling deep down inside of her, threatening to make a forced exit through her mouth. Moreover, this was her first kill. She’d killed small creatures such as lizards and insects, but never gave them any thought. But this was not like killing a small bug. She’d taken down this lethal predator who probably ruled the depths of the river up until her demise. Nimble wondered if the swimming biter had a family, or anyone that would miss her, wondering why she never came home.

Looking down mournfully at her kill, Nimble came to realize there was simply no way to know any of this, but that didn’t help her ill feelings. One thing she never did realize was just how difficult it would be to become a true hunter, one that was capable of bringing down other creatures of their size and strength. It was a strange feeling of pride and grief which she found hard to understand as she carried her kill towards the heart of the copse of trees.

Finally a good distance from the river and out of the reach of any other water predators, Nimble dropped the corpse of the swimming biter at her feet. She then stole a glimpse of the horizon to see just how far she’d gone. She wasn’t sure if it was the mist, but when she turned, she could no longer see the swamp. In fact, there was nothing familiar surrounding her. The trees towering above her were strange and pointed, with dark, shaggy bipinnate leaves. She pointed her snout towards the atmosphere, taking in the scents around her. Even the air smelled alien. That was when she knew for certain that she was not going back the way she came. There was nothing to go back to.

 She stood there for a minute in deep thought, until the rumbling of her stomach reminded her that it was time to eat. A meal this large was sure to tie her over. She crouched down, plunging through the swimmer’s scaly exterior, slurping the juicy insides. She’d barely swallowed her first bite when her stomach began to produce noises like nothing she’d ever heard before.

Nimble raised an eyebrow, not really knowing what this meant. Her stomach rumbled again, and suddenly, she felt her food traveling up her throat, in the opposite direction it was supposed to. Her eyes widened and her face contorted in disgust at what her body was doing.

In that moment, something told her to run behind a tree or to a bush. She chose the latter, and made a dash for a nearby bush. She lurched forward and sunk to her knees, water and  chunks of partially digested meat spewing from her mouth. Her stomach contracted violently as it’s contents were forcibly expelled in a mess of sweat, bile and tears. Whatever she’d eaten surged up her throat and onto the grass before her.

After vomiting until she was completely empty inside, Nimble let out a cough, heaving as saliva dribbled from her slack mouth and the pungent smell of half digested food invaded her nostrils. As she heaved, she made eye contact with a huge eyed lizard, who spit out the bug in his mouth out of sheer disgust.

As horrid of a display as it was, Nimble didn’t have the energy to care if anyone had to bear witness to it. She didn’t even have the strength to try eating again. Utterly defeated, the fast biter crawled pathetically back to her dead prey, and collapsed right there on the grass.

---

The light of the dawning bright circle shone over the juvenile swift biter, illuminating her face with a warm, orange glow while nearly blinding her in the process. As beautiful as seeing the rising of the bright circle was, the heat that came along with it was highly unappealing.

Indigo didn’t bother trying to fall back asleep. It had taken a herculean effort to fall asleep during the night in the first place. If she tried to gain even a wink of sleep right now, it would be a pointless waste of her energy. Instead, she sat on the grass, passing the time by listening to the clicks and calls of various creatures hidden within the vegetation.

The rustling of grass behind her caught her attention, making her momentarily forget about her plight. She looked behind her from the corner of her eye and saw her brother stretching out his limbs as he yawned, the morning dew dampening his cerulean scales.

Blue licked his lips, yawning once more. He’d been so tired that he slept better than he had in ages. His eyes searched the area, landing on his sister. When he saw that she was already awake, and looked like she had been for a while, he raised an eyebrow.

“Indigo?”

Indigo turned her head towards him, her face totally blank.

“Did you sleep at all last night?” He stood up, pausing to crack his stiffened neck, “You look terrible.”

Indigo refused to respond and looked away. She could feel her hunger and exhaustion slowly getting the better of her, and did not wish to vent her frustration out on her brother.

Blue was oblivious of her troubles, and tilted his head. It was uncharacteristic of his sister to be this standoffish. He gazed at the brooding swift biter, the worry evident in his glistening eyes. There was only one plausible explanation to her sudden shift in behavior. “Indigo, are you sick?”

“Nonsense,” a voice boomed from behind him. Moments later, Amina came into view, chortling to herself as she placed her hands on her hips. “If seventeen years of listening to you hasn’t made her sick by now, nothing will.”

Amina noticed the shift in Indigo’s demeanor. Usually, a teasing remark at the expense of her brother would have at least earned a chuckle from Indigo. But on this warm morning, nothing seemed to lift her spirits. Amina noticed this, and her smile curved into a frown, her eyes showing concern for the younger biter. She pushed past the brooding and sulking Blue, and touched Indigo’s shoulder.

“Indigo, what’s wrong? Are you feeling alright?”

Indigo offered her an exhausted glance, but quickly looked in the opposite direction. Before the thought of even bothering to explain herself could enter her mind, her stomach spoke up for her.

Both Blue’s and Amina’s eyes widened in realization as it occurred to them that the young biter hadn’t eaten in what was possibly a few days or more.

“That’s right,” said Blue, “You never did get any fish.”

“Mhm,” Indigo hummed, “The ones that you promised me.”

“Well, you were the one telling me that you weren’t hungry, which was obviously a lie.”

“Sorry,” Indigo snapped, “I didn’t realize that trying to be understanding of our situation with food was such a bad thing.”
 
Blue tilted his chin upwards, obviously taking offense as he raised a brow. “I never said it was!”

Amina was taken a bit off guard by the sudden escalation of the situation, but stepped in regardless. “Alright, that’s enough. Fighting solves nothing. I believe you have learned that lesson, haven’t you, Blue?”

Blue huffed and folded his arms across his chest while Indigo let out a bubbly sounding giggle.

Amina aimed a brief glance towards the cerulean swift biter before whirling her body the other way. “While it is irrefutable that we are all are more than a little hungry and that our hunger may be beginning to get the best of us, the only way we’re going to make it out here in one piece is if we work together. Is that understood?”

Indigo and Blue both offered silent nods of their heads.

“Very well,” Amina announced, folding her hands behind her back, “Now...let’s go fishing.”

The nearest river was only a little ways from the copse of trees that had become a temporary home for the small pack of swift biters. As they walked the downwards slope of green, a smell in the air caused Indigo to stop in her tracks. She pointed her snout upwards to try and track the smell, but the disarrayed cacophony of scents ended up making her more confused. She pointed her snout back towards the ground and placed one foot forward. Almost as if on cue, a faint rustling noise amongst the vegetation made itself known. Indigo turned around, only to see nothing.

“Indigo!” Blue’s voice snapped her out of her intense focus.

“Huh?” She craned her head in the other direction, where Blue was standing, waiting for her.

“Hurry up, or you’re going to get the both of us lost. It’s like an endless tunnel in here.”

Indigo’s curious glance bounced off of the alien looking flora. The terrain was completely silent, with not a creature in sight. Whatever had been lurking within the bushes was now gone. Still, Indigo felt uneasy. Like she was being watched. Keeping her eyes on the bushes, she loped towards her brother. Once she was at his side, she turned away and walked silently with him as they tried to catch up to Amina.
 
The river’s current was wild and unpredictable, but such was the truth for most bodies of water. Amina crouched down by the river bank, her eyes trailing the silvery swimmers moving about in the water. Standing a good three feet away were Blue and Indigo.

Blue trilled softly as he outstretched his arms, fully exposing his sister to his less than pleasant body odor. He hadn’t bathed since the day of their banishment, hence the foul smell of sweat and dirt.

The smell promptly reached Indigo’s nostrils, and when it did, her nose wrinkled, followed by her hands flying up to cover her nose. “Ugh,” she griped abhorrently, “Do you ever bathe?”

Blue’s arms were still outstretched towards the sky as he glared at her without turning his head. His sister was surprisingly opinionated when Campion wasn’t prowling around, watching her every move like a predator ready to pounce on their unsuspecting prey. It was heartwarming to see her able to act like the biter he knew she really was, but at the same time, he didn’t quite appreciate being her main target. He lowered his arms, and turned around. “You don’t like it, you can go stand somewhere else.”

Amina listened to them bicker, shaking her head in dismay. She too thought it was rather touching to see Indigo and Blue to have somewhat of a normal relationship, rather than the both of them having to be on edge all of the time, simply because one of them might get killed without the other’s protection. Then again, their arguing was possibly a result of their hunger, that was also plausible. They were both still very young, and always had the pack to provide proper nourishment for them. They were in no way prepared for the harshness of the real world. She wondered, if something were to happen to her, how they would fare on their own.

No matter. For now, they had her, and Amina would provide for them as long as she was able. Pushing the thought towards the back of her mind, she quickly snatched up a single fish from the river’s clutches.

---

“Are you going to tell him?”

Ra looked back at Hathor’s red eyes which practically mirrored her own, “Pfft— Why would I tell him?” She questioned haphazardly.

“Well, you are his mate,” Hathor stated in a matter of fact way, a ghost of a smile lingering on her face, “You’re supposed to take care of each other.”

Ra showed off a smug little smirk and folded her arms. “That may be so, but this is just too good of an opportunity to pass up.”

Hathor shook her head, but the smile did not fade. “You’re horrible.”

Anu was currently sprawled out on the floor, sleeping on his back. He was in such a deep sleep, however, that he didn’t even feel the eight legged crawler slowly making it’s way across his abdomen, up to his neck. As soon as the crawler began to crawl up his neck, he began to stir. He giggled, gently swatting his scales. “Ra, stop it,” he mumbled, smiling blissfully in his sleep. “Mm, that tickles...”

Ra snorted and doubled over as she tried to contain her laughter, while Hathor glanced at the hunched over longtail as if she’d completely lost her mind. She had to wonder how someone as gullible as Anu could be so smitten with a unrelenting prankster like Ra. Although, she already knew the answer to her own question.

The crawler was now inching up towards Anu’s agape mouth, using the biter’s teeth for leverage. It was then that the drowsy Anu realized that this felt nothing like his mate’s touch. After being with her for years, he knew fully well that she wasn’t this…hairy. A single eye snapped open, glancing down, where he could see the furry body of a crawler slowly edging into his mouth—

“AHH!” He leapt to his feet in an instant, running around the cave like a headless dinosaur, screaming his head off. He screeched to a stop in front of his mate, trying to form a sentence.

“Ith in my mouth!” He exclaimed in a muffled voice, holding his beak out towards her.”Ra! Geth it outh!”

“Hold still, you dummy.” Ra grabbed him by the arm and yanked him towards her, keeping a tight hold on his wrist. She reached inside his mouth, grabbed the crawler by the leg, and tossed it towards the mountains.

Anu breathed a sigh of relief, his hands on his knees as he spit on the floor to rid his mouth of the taste. Meanwhile, Ra clapped her hands to remove the germs from her palms.

“There,” she huffed nonchalantly, “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Anu did not answer, mostly because he was on the floor, reeling from his experience. Hathor, knowing that Ra could have alerted him earlier but elected not to, felt quite badly for him and offered him comfort through a gentle touch on his shoulder.

An elongated groan rolled off of Anu’s tongue as he continued to wipe his mouth with the back of his hand. “Ugh. I need to cleanse my mouth...thoroughly.”

Crim watched the scene unfold from her little corner of isolation, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed. It was hard to believe her and her pack mates were around the same age. Ra had forgotten more about caring for hatchlings than Crim would ever know. Yet, she still behaved like a child, pulling these foolish pranks. And Anu— oh, she didn’t even want to get started on him. He was so naïve— he’d walk right into a trap without even questioning it. How embarrassing. They were her friends, and she loved them to death, but it would be much appreciated f they could have some sense of maturity every now and then.

Her gaze suddenly fell on Hathor, who rolled her eyes while sporting a wry smile as she looked down at her pack mates. Crim’s own eyes widened. Hathor wasn’t like them; she was more mature and often tried to dissuade Ra from her pranks. If anything, she was like the mother of the pack. She might know where Alpha was— she always did, somehow.

Pursing her lips, Crim shuffled on over to the older longtail. When Hathor turned and found herself face to face with Crim, her eyes briefly widened in surprise before a smile appeared on her gentle features.

“Good morning, Crim,” she greeted, touching the other biter’s about with her own as a gesture of affection, “Did you sleep well?”

“I did,” Crim answered directly, her eyes wandering all over the place, “But, um, I have a question.”

Hathor nodded her head, motioning for her to elaborate.

“Do you know where Alpha is, by any chance?” Crim inquired, trying to make her voice sound as clear as possible, “I wanted to tell him that the sky water stopped, and that we could go out and hunt today.”

Hathor stared at the younger biter, almost as if she were judging her inside her head. Then, she laughed. “Oh, you and Alpha think exactly the same.”

Crim blinked, unable to fathom how she and Alpha could possibly think the same way. “We do?”

“Of course. Alpha went out late at night to find something for us to hunt. That way, we won’t be risking our tails chasing something that isn’t even out there. He’s very bright, just like you.”

Crim’s heart fluttered as she took in Hathor’s every word, but on the outside, she maintained her stoic resolve. “Isn’t that dangerous, though? What if something happens to him? What if he gets hurt or even killed, and we’re just sitting here, waiting for him to return—”

Before Crim could continue on with her ramblings, Hathor put a comforting hand on her shoulder, causing her to desist. “Crim, you’re a very smart biter with wisdom beyond her years, and I’m very proud of you. But there’s something you should know— you can’t live your life being afraid of something that might happen, even if there is a small chance that it can. If standing by and watching your life go by is all you’re going to do, you’re going to watch your life go by without you.”

Crim halted, allowing the impact of Hathor’s wise words to slowly dawn on her. When it did, she looked up. “That was just a polite way of telling me that Alpha knows what he’s doing and I should stop worrying and shut my mouth, wasn’t it?”

“Oh, Crim,” Hathor chuckled and pat the other longtail on her head, “Don’t be so hard on yourself. Alpha will be fine, and so will we.”

Crim wrinkled a brow. “How do you know?”

Hathor paused, something flashing in her eyes that Crim didn’t recognize. Then, she grinned. “I don’t.” She and Crim stared at each other for a moment before Hathor looked over Crim’s shoulder, her grin growing wider as she turned slightly, “Besides...he’s right behind you.”

Crim’s eyes widened and she wheeled around just in time to see Alpha, who sure enough, was right behind her. Hathor strolled up to him, welcoming him back home with that affectionate nuzzle that could make anyone in the world feel safe and protected.

“Did you find anything?” His mate asked, tilting her head upwards as she awaited his response.

“There’s a small pack of swift biters a little ways by the river,” Alpha stated, allowing their tails to brush against each other like gentle hands caressing someone’s face, “Two adolescents and one adult. I expect it won’t be a challenge to separate them, but I’d like to get a closer look, just so we know exactly what we’re dealing with.”

Crim’s face fell as Alpha continued talking to Hathor. It was too late to tell him about the cessation of the sky water now; he’d probably already seen it for himself. However, there was still something she could do to prove herself—

“Alpha? May I come along too?”

Alpha looked at her as if she’d made a joke he didn’t understand. “Of course you can, Crim. You’re a member of the pack, aren’t you?”

“Well, yes, but...”

“She’s just worried because she can’t hunt to save her life,” Anu butted in, coiling his arms around her and scratching her head before she pushed him away, right into Ra’s chest. Hathor, once again, rolled her eyes.

Ra stepped away, a contemptuous scowl on her face. Sometimes, she had a hard time comprehending that she’d actually chosen this idiot to be her mate. “Can’t you go be stupid someplace else?” 

Anu’s comment was offhanded and uncalled for, but Crim had to admit that what he said wasn’t exactly untrue. She was exceptionally smart and came up with the most brilliant ideas, but unfortunately, when it came to executing said ideas, her attempts tended to backfire.

“No need to worry,” Hathor said in a soothing tone, squeezing both of Crim’s shoulders, “You won’t be doing any of the actual hunting. We’ll leave that to Ra and Anu, as we usually do.”

Crim breathed an audible sigh of relief. Thank the stars.

“If we’re all done wasting time,” intervened Alpha, clapping his hands to bring everyone to attention, “We’d best be getting a move on. Swift biters are fast, and light on their feet. If we want to track them down, we’ll have to be quicker and lighter.”

“Come on then,” Hathor announced, stepping out onto the ledge, carefully calculating where she she was walking and remaining wary of any puddles, “Let’s hop to it. We can get in formation once we’re on the ground.” With that, she continued making her way down the numerous ledges, the rest of the pack following suit.

---

Confusion. That was the one and only expression that could be seen on the crested sharptooth’s face as he gazed at his friend, jaw slowly falling slack. He wasn’t sure if he was confused by the absolute absurdity of what he thought he heard, of if he just didn’t hear it right.

“Let me get this straight— you want us to move Mila, who is about as big as each of us, and can barely even walk, all the way past the mountains to Green Haven?”
Yariel gave one silent nod of his head, confirming Ronan’s doubts. “I understand that it might be a little difficult, but—”

“A LITTLE?” Ronan erupted like the smokey mountains filled with molten rock which continued to heat up until the mountain eventually blew it’s top, “I think the word you’re looking for is ‘impossible’. She can’t even move!” With his head, he gestured towards the immobile form of Mila, sprawled out on the ledge.

“Not on her own, she can’t,” Yariel tried to reason, “That’s why she has us. We helped her all the way here, didn’t we?”

“Mhm, because moving her across flat land is exactly the same as moving her across an ENTIRE VALLEY OF MOUNTAINS.” Ronan made no effort to hide his displeasure with Yariel’s proposed idea, and spared every opportunity he had to shoot it down.

Yariel couldn’t suppress an exasperated sigh. He usually didn’t resort to petty insults, unlike a certain sharptooth he knew, but it would appear that was the only language Ronan understood. “Well, in that case, do you have any better ideas? Since you’re so quick to disagree with mine, I’m sure you must have come up with a better plan to get Mila the help that she needs.”

“No, I haven’t!” Ronan tightly clenched his jaw, getting up in the longsnout’s space, “Forgive me for trying to be practical—”

“We don’t have time for that! We don’t have the luxury of having options to choose from!”

Ronan blanched, having never heard Yariel raise his voice like that before. To him, he was always the calm and level headed one, the one who could be relied upon to keep everyone grounded in a sticky situation.

“We only have two options,” Yariel continued, “We can take her to Green Haven. I know a longtail there named Osiris. His mate is one of the most renowned healers in the mysterious beyond. If anyone can help Mila, it’s her.” There was a long, icy pause. “And I’m sure you know what the other option is— we do nothing and let Mila die here. But once again, it’s your call.” However, Yariel secretly wished it wasn’t.

Ronan was left at a loss for words as Yariel walked off, plopping himself on the ground in a nearby corner. His eyes traveled up towards Mila, and from a distance, he could clearly see how much her leg was beginning to swell— up to twice it’s normal size.

Ronan spun the other way, and began pacing around the enclosure of the cave. How in the world was he supposed to relax, knowing his oldest friend’s life was at stake, and worse, in his own hands? He stopped, breathing in and then out. Alright. Now was not the time to panic— he had to think about this. Really think about it. But, then again, it wasn’t like he had all the time in the world— okay, not helping.

He took a moment to clear his thoughts. It was undeniable that Green Haven was the only chance that Mila had, but when it came down to the reality of it, there was simply no way he and Yariel would be able to help her up and down the mountain, especially when they were inhabited by a pack of longtails who were constantly on the prowl. Not only that, but it would deter them from their original mission.

He inhaled sharply, letting out a frustrated growl. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. This was so messed up. It wasn’t exactly surprising, though— from being cast out from his own pack, to this entire mess, he’d obviously been jinxed, cursed with some kind of rotten luck.

A tiny voice inside of Ronan told him that he was being selfish, while another told him to think realistically. These two dual voices, two different sides of him, were at odds with each other. What was the right thing to do? What was more practical? Ugh— he didn’t know anymore. His conscience was all messed up.

Silencing the voices inside his head, he decided that the least he could do was offer Mila some comfort as she slept, just so she knew that she wasn’t alone. The ground rumbled as he heaved his bulky self up onto the sturdy ledge, curling up right beside the longsnout.

Observing her sleeping face, Ronan thought she looked so peaceful and innocent, so unassuming. He’d almost forgotten that this was the same dinosaur who kneed him in the gut and knocked him against a wall.

He looked back towards the entrance of the cave, sighing through his nostrils as he thought about his plight. It was a problem, a real problem. It wasn’t the type of problem Ronan could just allow to fix itself. No, this was on him, and the wrong decision could have disastrous consequences. It was at times like this where he hated having so much decision making authority.

As he sat in silence, a new voice popped into his head. This one told him that Mila had left behind all that she ever knew to assist him on his quest. She had been the tracker for another pack, a pack where she was taken care of and looked out for. Yet, she still decided to leave it all behind to help him. And now, she desperately needed his help and he was thinking about himself. About how hard it would be for him, about how this would distract from his mission.

“Damn it,” Ronan whispered underneath his icy breath, heavily torn between the two options he had. It wasn’t even that difficult of a choice; Mila was his tracker, without her, they would have never made it this far in the first place. Not only that, but he would never forgive himself if she met an untimely demise. It wasn’t a difficult choice at all, so why was he having such a hard time making a decision?

Admitting to himself that he simply didn’t know what was the right choice, he slumped against Mila’s side, earning a gentle groan of pain from the longsnout. Ronan scooted backwards a few inches, looking a bit sheepish. “My bad,” he muttered. As he apologized, he could almost hear Mila telling him that he better be sorry. Of course, she didn’t say anything, but it was undeniably something she would say. A wave of sadness suddenly washed over him as he realized how her voice had been ingrained into his mind, and into his daily routine. He simply couldn’t fathom not hearing  that snarky, teasing voice ever again.

---

The pack of longtails silently stalked their way through the brush, keeping up their rather unique formation. Crim and Alpha were at the front, with Ra and Anu surrounding them on both the left and right side, leaving Hathor smack dab in the middle.

As she pushed her way through the foliage and all the vines and bushes blocking her path, Crim pondered on her position. She would have figured that Hathor would have placed herself at the front, being Alpha’s mate and all. It was puzzling that she hadn’t, considering that she was the one who planned the formation in the first place.

Quirking an eyebrow, she allowed herself a glance of the female biter behind her. She craned her head, keeping the rest of her body pointed forwards.

Hathor had been scanning the moss covered trees that towered over them, noting to herself that in a place like this, sticking close to each other would be most ideal. When her eyes returned to the path ahead, she caught Crim looking back at her. Hathor peered back at her, raising her head as if to ask what was on the younger biter’s mind. She recognized that look on Crim’s face.

Crim recognized Hathor’s visual cues, and proceeded with her inquiry. “Hathor, how come you placed me at the front with Alpha?” She spotted Alpha glancing in her direction, but ignored it, “I mean, I figured that you’d want to be by his side, wouldn’t you?”

Hathor laughed amusedly, breathing through her laughter as she tore through an entanglement of vines. “Not really, no. I spend every waking moment with him as it is.” Her mate whirled around and issued her a glare, but she hardly paid him any mind, “I came up with this formation because I believed it was ideal for hunting. You see, when it comes to hunting, a pack must act like a single entity. Kind of like a body, with each member representing a different part with different strengths. I put you and Alpha at the front because you two are sort of like the mind— you come up with the ideas and lead the way.”

Crim blinked, surprised by Hathor’s reasoning. She’s never thought herself to be akin to a leader of any sort. Perhaps, Hathor‘s age was catching up to her, and her better judgment was being clouded. That was the only logical explanation.

“Ra and Anu are both excellent fighters and in excellent physical shape,” Hathor continued, her gaze drifting to the aforementioned biters as they beamed with pride, “They’re like the arms and legs, helping us move forward. Much of our strength arises from them.”

That makes sense, Crim thought. Ra could easily best any one of them in a battle. But she had to wonder, how did Hathor see herself? What was her importance? Crim cleared her throat of the saliva that had begun to build up, her brow furrowed as she raised another inquiry. “Then...what does that make you?”

“The backbone,” Hathor replied instantaneously, not missing a beat, “Without me, this pack would crumble to the ground and never rise again.”

Crim’s brow wrinkled further as she shot the other female an incredulous look. She never knew Hathor was this full of herself!
“She’s right,” Alpha remarked, his sniffer lowered pointedly towards the ground, “Without her, this pack never would have been formed.”

“Still,” Crim protested, “That seems a bit shallow...to say that this pack would crumble without her?” She looked towards Hathor, who didn’t even look the least bit offended, “What about when you die, Hathor?”

“That would depend on the circumstances,” Hathor began to explain, “Come on, Crim, you know how these things work.”

Hathor was right— Crim did indeed understand the life of a longtail. Hatchlings were often cared for by their mothers until they were a year old, and were then left to fend for themselves and join packs of their own. She certainly couldn’t speak for other longtails, but this was how her own life panned out up until this very point.

“I’m afraid we’ll have to talk about this later,” Alpha interrupted, coming to a halt. “Our swift biters are right by the river.” He gestured with his pointer claw to what was a previously unseen trio of swift biters, feasting on a single tiny swimmer.

Anu and Ra knew that was their cue. They split from the rest of the pack, one biter heading in the left while the other went in the right. Their talons gripped the soil underneath their feet so as to minimize the sound of their footsteps as they slithered through the grass.

In an environment like this, the green hide of the longtail pair have them a huge advantage over their more brightly colored prey. Ra crouched down in the grass, staying perfectly hidden as Anu repeated her actions.

---

Indigo peeled off the sleek, silvery scales of the dead swimmer with her teeth, pecking at the meaty red insides. This was her first meal in days, and would not miss this rare opportunity to indulge herself with the juicy red meat. Without even waiting to fully swallow her food, the young swift biter eagerly plucked off another shred of meat.

Blue gulped down his share, using his tongue to remove the bits of meat that had gotten wedged in between his teeth. His face contorted in horror as he watched his little sister literally bite off more than she could chew.  “Indigo, take it easy! You’re going to choke—”

“Leave her be,” Amina said dismissively, “The poor thing probably hasn’t eaten in days.”

“And who’s fault is that?” Blue asked incredulously, unable to keep the edge out of his voice as he raised an eyebrow.

“Yourth,” came Indigo’s muffled reply.

Blue was less than amused. In fact, he wasn’t even amused at all. Still, he curbed his tongue and dug into the swimmer’s gaping abdomen. After eating his full and leaving the rest for his sister, Blue looked up to meet his aunt’s faraway gaze. “So, what’s the plan now?”

Amina’s demeanor remained serious as she looked from one biter to the other. “Well…I originally planned for us to stay here, but after giving it some consideration, I don’t think it would be such a good idea. We can’t live on swimmers alone, and there’s hardly enough of them to sustain us. So...” she closed her eyes as she exhaled and pointed forwards with her snout, “We’re going to go past those mountains.”

Indigo’s head shot up upon hearing this. Those mountains that Amina mentioned were impenetrable, nearly impossible to cross. The longtail pack inhabiting said mountains contributed largely to this outcome. They were small, but for what they lacked in size, they made up for in wit and strategy, as well as agility. “But isn’t that where the longtail pack lives? I heard they’re very territorial...”

“Almost every fast biter pack is territorial, Indigo. I’ve never even heard of one that wasn’t.” She sighed again. “And I know that. I understand how dangerous the longtails are. Even so, I’m afraid it’s a risk we’re going to have to take.”

Ra took in every word of their conversation, her breath escaping through her nostrils in quiet puffs. Her ruby eyes narrowed as she crouched down lower, digging her claws into the dirt beneath her to maintain her footing. She wasn’t really paying attention to Anu, who was most likely staring off into space. Although he was useless at gathering information, he acted quickly enough to create a diversion in case things went south. Ra relied heavily on him, in more ways than one.

As she continued listening in on the conversation, she picked up a bit about going to the mountains and a pack of longtails that lived there. Her eyes widened ever so slightly, but she remained still otherwise. So, these swift biters were headed towards the mountains? This was an interesting development, indeed. Growling softly to her mate, she used her head to motion towards the pack.

Anu met her eyes and nodded, turning tail and slithering through the grass, making his way back to the pack.

...

As the remaining three members of the pack waited, Crim caught wind of a sort of rancid smell. As she pointed her snout upwards, she could deduce that the smell definitely belonged to a creature, but that creature was already dead, and smelled like rotting meat.

Alpha noticed her behavior, and questioned it. “What is it, Crim? Do you smell something?”

“I smell meat,” Crim replied, still sniffing the trees, “Dead meat. It’s pretty close, just a few trees down, I’m supposing.”

Any sort of meat was good enough. As long as his pack was fed, it didn’t matter if it was a fresh kill or if it was leftover carrion. “Do you want to go check it out?”

“May I?  I’d just like to see if it’s something we can eat. Food that’s already dead is better than no food at all.”

“Of course.” He looked at his mate. “Hathor, love, can you mark our trail so Crim can find her way back? If she gets lost in a place like this...well, I’m certain she’ll stay lost, and we don’t want that.”

Hathor nodded and marched over to a fuzzy patch of dried grass a few inches away from where they stood. There, she lifted her tail and urinated to ‘mark the territory’, in a manner of speaking. “Here you are,” she told Crim, “Give me a roar if you find anything...or if anything finds you.”

“Will do. Thank you, Hathor,” Crim assured her as she disappeared into a separate pathway lined by trees, allowing her sniffer to pull her towards whatever smell it was picking up. As the smell of the dead meat became stronger, the scent of the swift biters began to fade, but it was still prominent enough for her to know where they were.

The pathway seemed endless, like it went on forever and ever without cessation. Crim looked behind her, and could still see the faint flicker of light near the opening of the pathway. It was rather distant now, but at least she could still see it. As she scanned her surroundings, Crim came to understand what Alpha meant when he said that if she became lost, she would remain lost. She was beyond glad that she wasn’t by herself out here.

She soon arrived at a small clearing, where the smell was practically bombarding her sniffer. Looking in front of her, Crim realized who the smell belonged to— a gray fast biter, lying completely still in the grass, most likely having finally succumbed to the several wounds inflicted upon it’s left leg.

The longtail biter couldn’t refrain from smiling. She’d found a meal! A decent, sustainable meal, and she didn’t even have to hunt for it! This fast biter could last them days, or maybe even weeks! Crim wasn’t sure if it was too good to be true, or if she’d just gotten extremely, extremely lucky.

Crim advanced towards the limp dinosaur, lowering her head to sample a smell. As she ran her snout along the rough scales, she furrowed her brows. This wasn’t the smell that led her here. This fast biter didn’t even smell dead, even if it was unresponsive. Crim’s eyes then fell on a swimming biter lying right beside the unconscious dinosaur, who had taken a single bite out of the swimmer before deciding it was enough. She lowered her snout towards the water predator, recognizing the smell as the one she’d picked up. The swimming biter was most certainly dead, and had been for several hours.

She looked back at the fast biter, her mouth curving into a tight frown. Crim had a chance, and she wasn’t going to let it pass her by. She was going to make sure Anu ate his own words. She was going to make sure that she was treated like an adult who could be trusted to venture out on their own. But all that would have to start with her making a kill.

Crim placed her left foot on the fast biter’s side in a show of dominance. The fast biter growled, causing her to stumble backwards onto the grass. Crim hadn’t expected the dinosaur to stir, especially so suddenly, and was caught by surprise. Panting, her eyes wide as she tried to catch her breath, she met the other biter’s unflinching stare.

---

Nimble felt detached. Detached from herself, and from the world. She couldn’t tell if she was moving or not; all she knew was that it was completely dark and completely empty. She wondered if she was dead. If she was, well, she had to admit that it was rather peaceful— less agonizing than staying alive and dodging whatever the world could throw at her. As Nimble drifted across the endless river of darkness, she began to feel pressure. She couldn’t tell where, but she was feeling it somewhere—

As she came to, the blissful sensation faded and she found herself being attacked by the light and the pains of the real world. She could still taste the vomit in her throat, could still feel the soreness in her legs. But she didn’t even know what had happened. She recalled a river, and a persistent swimming biter, but anything beyond that was a huge, unclear blur.

Nimble’s eyes frantically darted across her sclera in a wild and uncontrolled zigzag motion, her heart pounding as she felt a humongous pressure on her side, like a tree threatening to shatter her ribs. Hazily, she growled and wondered if a tree had actually fallen on top of her. It certainly felt that way. But when she looked up, she saw another biter. A longtail. She was allowed some relief as the biter sprung backwards, releasing her grip.

The longtail’s expression seemed to mirror Nimble’s own; it was an expression of fear and uncertainty, of not knowing where to go from here. However, Nimble noted the biter’s body language. She was poised to attack, but looked as if she were beginning to second guess herself.

Suddenly, the longtail’s doubt was washed away and replaced by anger and resolute determination. She bared her teeth, and the pressure on Nimble’s side returned as the biter defiantly brought her foot down against it. Her eyes, a blinding yellow, held a look that told Nimble that this biter was going to kill her, even if it was the last thing she did.

 Nimble held the biter’s gaze, uncertainty and fear leaking through. She could hardly feel her legs. She didn’t even know where she was, or what had happened. Had she been out in the drylands, some starving creature would have already made short work of her. So, why was this biter taking so long to finish the job? Nimble didn’t know, but what she did know was that there was no escape, no way out of this one. Finally, she closed her eyes and lowered her head, resigned to her fate.

---

Crim puffed up her chest in a painfully obvious show of false bravado, and then froze in place as her prey submitted to her. What was wrong with her? She practically had her work cut out for her, so why was she having such a difficult time carrying out the task? She was a hunter; why couldn’t she hunt? How could she be so pathetic?

“Oh, ancestors, help me,” she begged silently, “Please give me strength.” How foolish she must look begging her deceased ancestors for assistance in doing the most basic of tasks. Especially being a fast biter, a predator, this was an incredibly basic task. Yet, here she was, feeling weak in the knees and looking down at her cornered prey with sympathy. How did Ra and Anu do this? They made it look so easy.

In the distance, she could hear Hathor’s roar. She sounds worried, Crim thought to herself. Of course she was worried. It shouldn’t have taken this long to find a piece of dead meat, pick it up, and return to the others. Crim cringed. All she wanted was one chance to prove herself, and admittedly, to prove Anu wrong so that she could rub it in his face, but apparently, that chance would have to wait until another day. Sparing the prone fast biter a glance, Crim latched onto the dead swimmer with her teeth. Grabbing it by the tail, she dragged her stolen quarry back to where the rest of her pack was sure to be waiting. After stealing the fast biter’s meal, the least Crim could do was leave her be in peace.


...

Hathor felt a wave of relief sweep over her as she spotted Crim’s form come into view, visibly unharmed. She had been beginning to worry, and had sent out a warning roar to urge Crim to hurry on up before she sent out a search party.

When Crim returned, she could see that Ra and Anu had already returned from their investigation of sorts, having reported their findings to the rest of the pack. They would fill Crim in later, they decided. The aforementioned biter then dropped the swimmer in her mouth at Alpha’s feet, dipping her head in respect.

“I found this barely eaten swimming biter lying by the trees. It seemed that some other dinosaur killed it, but I suppose they must have forgotten about it.” She couldn’t believe she was lying to Alpha, and right to his face. “There’s a small bit of bone rot, but...I don’t think it should be a problem.”

Alpha brought his snout towards the dead predator, sniffing the dried out scales. “No, it shouldn’t be,” he stated, concurring with Crim’s statement, “The meat is still fresh. Well done, Crim.”

As dirty as she felt lying to Alpha, Crim still beamed with pride and a sense of accomplishment when she heard those words that she always longed to hear. At that moment, she couldn’t give a damn if she’d stolen this kill from a dying fast biter whose emaciated form and malnourished body needed that food more than she and her pack did. Alpha was pleased with her. He was proud of her, and to Crim, that was all that mattered.

---

Poor Nimble, her survival somehow always ends up unclear at the end of each installation. I finally finished this chapter, which took me about a month to finish. :,D It’s a lot longer than what I usually write, but the chapters will probably start to get longer now that the story is beginning to take off. And if you’ve noticed, I used names loosely based around Egyptian deities for most of the longtails, which was fully intentional. At first, I used them because they sounded cool (lame excuse, I know), but I always fancied incorporating different sorts of myths and legends into my stories, which is what happened here (namely the legend of Set and Osiris). Just a little tidbit of information on my reasoning behind choosing those specific names.

I’ve also tried to utilize your guys’ advice about pacing, and tried to even it out in this chapter and tried to make it less erratic. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter and as always, have a great week! 

/cracks knuckles

Ok I recently reread this entire story, so I think I can actually leave a review that doesn’t sound totally incoherent,,, but I apologize if this comes off as incoherent babbling

Damn, this chapter was wild from start to finish (and I mean that in a good way) from that entire scene with Petrie and Hoist, to the ending where Petrie comes to the realization that he no longer has anything to gain by remaining with the herd, and I really liked how you ended this chapter. 

I don’t really have any criticism to offer, except that this chapter seemed to go a little quick, but it’s not really a problem since it worked well regardless. All in all, this chapter was very well done and I look forward to reading the next chapter! 

A few days late but even though we’ve never met before, welcome back!! 

Shortsnout biter = Dakotaraptor

FF.net link: https://m.fanfiction.net/s/13047800/1/Deliver-Us

                                        A New Dawn

The nighttime was over. The shimmering stars, scattered across the sky like millions and millions of tiny holes, had faded into the warm blanket of orange and gold that now covered the vast expanse overlooking the hills. The bright circle slowly climbed upwards, going higher and higher into the sky while caressing the land below in a shower of warmth. Overhead, the migratory flyers sent out their call of cries and screeches as they glided across the skies. Nothing out of the ordinary— the bright circle rose and fell, as did the night circle. There was nothing going on there, aside from the delicate balance of life.

There was one such place where things stayed the same, where the inhabitants also relied on a rigid routine to gain some sense of balance. Along the slope of a mighty hill, the flat land divided by the river, a pack of shortsnout biters resided. From the untrained eye of a passerby, the plain of land might appear full of holes. But upon closer inspection, one could see that the tiny dots spread across the land were not holes, but dozens upon dozens of nests, lying out in the open. It was past these overcrowded clusters of slumbering dinosaurs, snoring as the humid summer air hovered above them, that a single biter had the sense to build his nest out of a hill; kind of like a snug and comfy burrow.

Within the shadows and the faint circles of light entering the opening of the burrow, a female’s almond shaped eyes could be seen, their orange hue similar to that of a raging fire, as well as the dark markings that surrounded them. As she laid in the nest of leaves and moss, the female biter felt movement underneath her abdomen. Peering down and facing away from the light, she lifted her arm, covered in amber feathers. She tilted her head, purring curiously, and this was the first movement her otherwise motionless body made since the evening prior.

While retracting her wing, she revealed two furry chicks, one slightly bigger than the other. The chicks both shared their mother’s eyes, as well as the light yellow feathers that covered her body. The one thing they didn’t inherit from her, however, were the white feathers at the tips of their wings and tails. That, they got from someone else.

The two rambunctious little chicks shared an exchange of chirps as they used their tiny beak-like snouts to poke at a small ball of white fur curled up near their mother’s brown tail feathers. Her eyes widening in alarm, the mother reached over and picked up her young chicks by the flap on their necks, carrying them a little ways away and placing them on the ground near her arms, where she could keep an eye on them.

“That’s quite enough, you two. It’s far too early for this,” she scolded gently, her voice as smooth and sensual as the light breeze that would often kiss her face whenever she set foot outside.

She craned her head, redirecting her attention to the ball of feathers sitting by her tail. As she gave it a gentle nudge with her darkly colored snout, the ball unfurled to reveal a tiny chick, who couldn’t have been more than a few days old.

Producing a feeble chirp, he barely managed to open his eyes, practically mirroring his mother’s . The very instant light entered his retina, the chick decided that he hated it and curled back up into his ball, instinctively knowing he was safe under the watchful eye of his mother.

A low growl then erupted from outside, prompting the vigilant mother to tear her focus away from her chick and answer with a growl of her own. Another biter stuck his head through the cave, his hues of vibrant yellow meeting her own  hues of fiery orange. He was covered in white feathers, with the exception of his wings and tail feathers, which were a dark, dark brown. It was evident where the chicks had inherited their pale, white feathers from.

The male biter ambled on inside, touching his snout to that of his mate’s, purring softly before dropping a dead lizard in front of her as he assumed his position right by her side.

“I know it’s not much,” he said apologetically, obviously wishing his attempt at hunting hadn’t been such a misfire, “But I‘m afraid I couldn’t go very far. Alpha has sentries all over the damn place. Still, I did try...and I hope it’ll suffice.”

“I know, Geb. You don’t need to justify yourself to me.” She picked the unmoving lizard, wedging the tail in between her claws as she chomped it’s head off, “You know that, don’t you?”

A sigh rolled off of Geb’s tongue as he leaned against his mate, taking a moment to gently scratch his only daughter’s head with his claw. “I do know that, Mahat. I just…I wish I could do more. You and our children deserve the very best. It’s a shame that I can’t give it to you.”

“You’ve already done more than enough, Geb,” Mahat coaxed, tossing the decapitated lizard onto the earth, watching amusedly as her children hardly hesitated to devour it, “Everyday you wake up at some unfathomable hour of the morning to go and find some food for me and the children. You then barely get any rest before you go out and hunt some more to satisfy our Alpha. Believe me, everything you do will always be enough, and nothing less.” Mahat peered into his eyes wearing a hopeful smile, that same hopeful that made Geb fall in love with her in the first place.

As she took their youngest child into her arms, Geb seemed to be stuck inside a trance of  intense and deep thought. His face wrinkled with worry, he looked out towards the hills that seemed to obstruct his view of anything and everything that lay beyond them. “But it doesn’t feel like enough. Listen, I just need to—”

“Geb,” Mahat said firmly, cutting him off midway. She tilted her head, looking up at him. “What you need is to stop doubting yourself. You do everything you can to provide for us and make sure we’re always taken care of—  even if it’s at your own expense— and that’s already more than enough for me.”

“But, Mahat—”

“You have our backs, and we have yours,” she continued while ignoring his protests, “You don’t need anything else, my love. Besides...” she pointed her snout towards their son, sleeping in her arms, “He’s rather handsome, don’t you think so?”

Resting his head on her shoulder, Geb stared bemusedly into his son’s equally confused eyes. He wrinkled both of his brows, sampling a smell of the fuzzy chick. He wasn’t exactly smitten with his son; he’d hardly even gotten time to know him. He and Mahat were always so preoccupied with keeping their children safe from harm, ever since Alpha sent out the order to snatch the newborns from their homes and throw them into the river in a desperate attempt to stop overpopulation. In response to his mate’s inquiry, however, he had to confess that he thought his son was absolutely hideous. He looked less like a dinosaur, and more like a ball of fuzz.

“...Sure, love,” he replied after a long hesitation which made it clear he was thinking very hard about his answer, “I suppose he’s not that bad looking for a hatchling…I’m just glad he has your eyes or else he’d be absolutely repulsive.”

“Geb!” Mahat whirled around to face him, trying her very best to suppress the laughter that threatened to escape, “Don’t be so mean. You’ll hurt his feelings.”

“I’m only saying the truth,” reasoned Geb, coming to his own defense as he shrugged his shoulders. “Neph and Shaw were absolutely hideous too, but it wasn’t as noticeable because they looked so much like you.”

“Oh, don’t be so hard on yourself,” Mahat crooned, purring under her breath while giving his chin a gentle and loving nuzzle, “You’re the most handsome biter I know.”

“You’re just saying that because you’re my mate,” Geb rebuffed flatly.

“Well, yes, that may be true, but really now— I don’t understand why appearance matters so much to you. I love you because of who you are. You know that.” She looked at him, frowning when he simply averted his eyes. Then, she too looked away, her eyes tracing the movements of her offspring as they curled up beside each other. Her gaze bounced off of Geb. “I know you’re convinced that you’re unpleasant to look at, and while I don’t agree, I think that has the potential to be a good thing. If you’re hideous, then when someone loves you, you know they really love you for who you are—” she paused to lock eyes with him, “Just like I do.”

Geb was initially a little confused at first, but as she spoke to him, his heart began to lift. Just hearing the way she spoke to him, so passionately and honestly, it made him want to be better. For her. He glanced down at his son, tickling his chin. As he played with him, Geb managed to catch a glimpse of his mate looking rather dejected. He knew why.

“You know they’re going to come for him, too,” he told her, massaging her shoulder in a gesture of comfort, “Giving him up is what’s best for him and us.”

“I know,” Mahat mouthed in response, “I just don’t like thinking about it. I’ve already grown to love him so...”

“It will be alright,” Geb purred, “We’ll get through it together. You said it yourself— we don’t need anything else.”

Mahat chuckled to herself, highly amused by having her own words turned around and used on her.

The bright circle was now fully in the sky, having given birth to a new dawn. With the start of the new day came the same old routine, in the same old order. Geb had grown so accustomed to this way of life that over time, it became his way of keeping track of time. As he felt the warmth of the bright circle hit his chest, he knew what time it was.

He scrambled to his feet, just in time to hear the beckoning roar of the head hunter, summoning his subordinates. “Well,” he sighed, “I should get going before he throws a hissy fit.”

Mahat nodded in affirmation, understanding that he had duties to perform, even if she would have preferred him to stay inside with her and the children.

Geb crouched down, balancing himself on the balls of his feet. He slanted forward, allowing the tips of their snouts to touch. “Promise me you’ll stay safe,” he whispered to her. This was also part of his routine, a part that he actually enjoyed.

“I promise,” Mahat replied back as she usually did, watching with a heavy heart as he pulled away. “...I love you.”

Geb turned to look at her as he stood in front of the burrow’s entrance, the light from outside shining behind him. “I love you too,” he said, offering a handsome grin before running down the slope, joining the rest of the miserable lot who were burdened with the duty of hunting so early, and not even for themselves.

Mahat held her son tightly as she watched her mate depart, plagued by the ever present fear that he might not return. However, she knew as she tucked her son safely beneath her feathers this was not the time to pay heed to that nagging little voice inside of her head. She had bigger things to worry about— like how she was going to ensure her son would live a good life without having to depart from him. Then, a tiny and groggy voice caught her attention.

“Mm...Mama...?”

Mahat shifted her weight towards her daughter Neph, who was lying next to her brother. Mahat raised a brow, tilting her chin, as if urging her to continue.  “What is it, Neph?”

“Are those scary biters going to come back here? Are they going to take us away?”

“No, love,” Mahat answered, gently tracing her daughter’s jawline with her claw. She hadn’t lied; neither Neph nor Shaw would be taken away, since they were no longer newborns.

Neph didn’t seem satisfied with the answer that she was given, and Mahat noticed as much. “Don’t worry about it,” Mahat insisted, “Go back to sleep. Everything will be alright.”

Neph heeded her mother’s words and turned around, slipping back into sleep. Mahat lovingly stroked her head, repeating what she had told her daughter to herself, repeating it like a mantra.

“Everything will be alright.”

...

It was midday when she awoke. As much as she loathed it, there wasn’t much else to do, given how constricting the laws of her pack were. If only she could leave. If she and her family were to somehow miraculously escape, that would be more than enough. Mahat wouldn’t bear any qualms even if they didn’t join another pack, so long as they were far, far away from this dreadful place.

Slowly, she began to stir, the weight of her body pushing against the leaves and blades of grass and producing a soft rustling sound. Her eyes steadily fluttered open, that peaceful half conscious doze that glided slowly upwards into wakefulness barely beginning to wear off—

“NO! No, please— leave him! YOU LEAVE HIM!”

Mahat was suddenly wide awake, recognizing the panicked screams that filled the air. She lifted her head, as did her children, who were barely beginning to wake. She scanned the plain in front of her, unable to tear her eyes away from the horrific sight of a helpless mother being thrashed to the ground as a strongly built shortsnout biter marched over to her nest and took her newborn hatchling.

“They’re here,” Neph whispered, covering behind her mother’s leg, “They’re going to take him away...”

Mahat tilted her chin slightly, looking down at her daughter. She was right; they would be coming for her son— but she wasn’t going to admit defeat so easily. Her woeful expression turned into one of resolute determination as she took Neph and Shaw into her arms, throwing them onto her back.

“No, they won’t,” she said firmly as she lifted her son by the flap of his neck. Looking back one more time, Mahat grimaced as she scampered towards the rear entrance of the burrow, forcing herself through the dark and seemingly never ending tunnel. Her talons crunched and sifted against the soil as she drew closer and closer to the bright light at the very end. Not much farther. Just a little bit more…

Mahat stepped out into the light, bombarded by a wave of searing heat that made her feel uncomfortably warm. Her heart thumping rapidly against her chest didn’t quite help matters either. Her eyes roamed from one child to the other, making sure they were all accounted for. The last thing that she wanted was for one of them to get lost in the frenzy of dinosaurs rushing about from place to place.

She glanced towards the left, and then towards the left. Once she decided the coast was clear, Mahat rushed down the slope, her children holding onto her for dear life. She did not stop, nor did she look back, and continued making a mad dash for the river.

Once she could see the tall, feathery reeds sprouting upwards by the grassy riverbank, she began to slow down. She looked behind her, making sure she hadn’t been followed. Mahat breathed a sigh of relief, but her heart still raced.

The river’s appearance was deceiving, stretching as long as the neck of the tallest longneck, and opening as wide as a mountain is high. Shoals of tiny silver swimmers could be seen gliding across the shimmering green water, only occasionally breaching the surface.

Her son began to fuss and wriggle around as he was being held between his mother’s teeth, somehow sensing the danger. Mahat was not surprised; children could be surprisingly inquisitive. Instead of shushing him, she offered a sympathetic smile and dropped him, catching him in the palm of both her hands. His huge orange eyes looked back at her, glistening wet tear trails on his cheeks. She sat down on her haunches, pressing their foreheads together.

“My son,” she began, ashamed that she hadn’t even thought of a name for him, “Please don’t cry. And please, please, please forgive me for doing this. I never wanted to, believe me, but this is the most I can do— If nothing else, I can at least give you a good life...” she sniffled, withholding tears, “Even if I may never get to be a part of it. I hope you’ll grow up with grace and dignity, and that you’ll never have to bear the hardships that your father and I had to bear the burden of, and that you’ll always be free to speak your mind. Still, I want to ask one thing of you— Just one thing—” inhaling sharply, she closed her eyes and allowed the tears to fall the moment she opened them, “I ask that one day, when you’re all grown up, that you come and deliver us, just like we will deliver you. That’s all I ask. Please remember me, remember where you came from, so that I can be with you when you dream.”

Mahat then gave him one last loving nuzzle, hoping against hope that it would be enough to remind of how much she loved him in the short time they’d spent together. Subsequently rising to her feet, she resumed carrying him in her mouth and waded into the river, resisting against the roaring current which threatened to carry her downstream. Using every single ounce of willpower in her body, she swam forward with all of her might, eventually emerging on the opposite side, with all three of her children.

As she shook herself dry, she looked over a nearby bush, where she could spot Alpha’s mate playing with her son in a small and shallow pond flowing with moss. Mahat hurried over to the bush, using it to conceal herself as she helped Neph and Shaw to the ground.

“Stay here, children,” she warned, her voice as silent as the quietest drop of water while transferring her son to the palm of her hand. She crouched down, poking her arm through the bush and dropping him onto the grass.

The tiny chick cried out in confusion, waddling over to the bush as he chirped for his mother. But as much as it pained her, Mahat could not take him back. She urged him forward with her hand, unintentionally causing him to trip over his own two feet. He squeaked in pain, grabbing the attention of Alpha’s mate.

The very second that Mahat sensed the other’s footsteps, she grabbed Shaw and ran off, using her tail to push her daughter along. Neph began to run with her mother and brother, but stopped to see what the female biter’s next course of action would be.

Alpha’s mate, a tall and slender biter named Tara, slowly approached the hatchling, whose emotional injury was worse than any physical injury he might have sustained during his fall.

Tara raised an eyebrow, her young son awkwardly trailing behind her. She lowered her head, sniffing the hatchling all over. Her hazel eyes softened considerably. “Poor dear,” she cooed, “You’re scared to death.” She began to extend her hand, but the hatchling shriveled away from her. Tara didn’t fault him for it, as shown when she smiled kindly. “Don’t worry. I won’t hurt you— it’s alright, little one.” She slowly ran her finger over his head, establishing that she meant no harm. He seemed to get the memo, for he smiled and cooed in response. “There,” she chimed, scooping him up into her hands and nuzzling him, just as his own mother did to him minutes before, “Isn’t that better? Oh, you’re so small...and absolutely precious.”

Neph smiled and gave a sigh of relief, letting go of the reeds she was unwittingly gripping with her fingers. “Stay safe, baby brother,” she said in a voice a little higher than a whisper as she watched Tara walk away, absolutely smitten with the hatchling she cupped in her hands, “Please don’t forget about us.” Then, she ran to catch up with the rest of her family.

...

As Mahat led her two remaining children back home, she spoke to them in a tone that conveyed a sense of urgency.

“If anything happens, I want you two to run straight home,” she commanded, “Don’t go out until your father returns.”

Both Shaw and Neph were confused by the reasoning behind their mother’s statement, but agreed to do what she asked, nonetheless.

“Mahat,” a low voice snarled, “There you are. I was wondering where you’d gotten off to.”

Mahat couldn’t help but scrunch and wrinkle her face. She thought she smelled something disgusting curled up in her path. Standing before her was the lead sentry. Hawthorn. She hated him, and everything about him— the way he stood like he was someone to be respected, and how his blazing green eyes looked as if they were mocking her when he spoke to her. Mahat only recognized these things about him simply because she couldn’t find it in her to care about whatever nonsense he was spouting.

Her mouth curved into a tight frown as she furrowed her eyebrows. “What do you want, Hawthorn?”

“That’s ‘sir’ to you,” Hawthorn barked, “And I was just wondering…the sentries found your home empty today during the search. And I know you and Geb have a newborn son.”

Mahat’s frown grew tighter. “What are you getting at?”

Hawthorn immediately dropped whatever games he was playing, and stomped his foot against the grass. “Where is he? That’s what I’m getting at. And don’t you dare lie to me. Or else—”

Mahat sensed him approaching Neph and Shaw, and moved protectively in front of them. “Don’t even think about it.” She heaved a sigh, her eyes defeated. “I promise I’ll give you the information you want.”

“Mom,” Neph tugged on her mother’s tail feathers, “What are you doing—”

“Shh,” Mahat silenced her, nudging both her and her brother away from the scene, “Go inside, and wait for your father. Don’t worry— I’ll handle this.” She flashed her famous reassuring smile, the smile that made it feel like everything would be alright, even if it didn’t seem like it would be.

Neph and Shaw gazed at their mother with uncertainty, exchanging glances with each other before they took off towards home. Mahat smiled in relief, although it fell rather quickly.

She suddenly felt herself being grabbed by the arm. She let out a surprised yelp, suddenly finding herself facing Hawthorn, who had a tight and deadly grip on her wrist.

“Where are you hiding him?” Hawthorn pressed, gritting his teeth.

Mahat held her tongue, her furious eyes locked on Hawthorn, even as he squeezed the life out of her wrist.

“TELL ME!” He flung her backwards, not even flinching at the sound of the back of her head hitting a rock. “I can’t believe you could be so selfish! Whether you agree with it or not, this is all for the greater good of the pack! By not telling me where your son is, you risk the futures of everyone here! And for what, your own selfish desires?”

Mahat scowled ferociously at him, refusing to falter even as her head throbbed from the blunt trauma. “You’re full of shit,” she rasped, baring her teeth, “If you actually think that anyone actually believes the nonsense that leaves your foul mouth, you’re just as foolish as the ideas you come up with.”

That was a mistake. That was a mistake, and she knew it. She knew that she slipped up, and badly. If there was one unspoken rule, it was that the higher ups had total control. They had the power to end a pack member’s life if they personally felt them to be a threat— even if they weren’t actually dangerous.

A strangled noise escaped from Hawthorn’s throat as his pupils turned to narrow, almost invisible slits. Without even a hint of hesitation, he leapt forward, slamming his sickle claw against her throat, forcing it through her scales and into her tissue.

Mahat let out an audible choking sound, squawking as she found herself being pushed against the grass. The feeling of his claw piercing her flesh was akin to that of being burned by an unrelenting flame. Still choking for breath, she grew bleary eyed as her sclera began to redden, and the tips of her fingers gained a purplish tinge.

“You snuck off while you were not permitted and didn’t even tell anyone,” Hawthorn said while pressing his claw further into Mahat’s throat, his voice eerily calm, “And now, you disrespect me. As you know...the penalty for such insubordination is death.”

Shaw happened to turn around at this exact moment, just in time to see his mother being slammed against the ground, specks of dirt flying everywhere as she fought against Hawthorn, who was inarguably the stronger one out of the two. He began to cry out for his mother, but was stopped by his older sister, who silenced him with a hand over his mouth before carrying him off into the safety of their home.

“Why is nobody stopping him,” Shaw gasped as soon as he was inside and in his sister’s arms, “Neph, please stop him— please—” he sobbed quietly as he buried his face in Neph’s chest.

Neph enveloped him in a protective embrace, shielding him from the sight of the horror unfolding outside. Alas, she was not able to drown out the sounds that accompanied it.

...

Blissfully unaware of the whole fiasco happening on the other side of the river, Tara waded in the pond, bathing her son while holding a fuzzy white hatchling in one arm. Still, it  wasn’t as if she could do anything about what was happening just across from her. Alpha and the sentries were the only ones with any true power.

The water pooled from her hands and onto her son, washing him of the dirt that covered his body. She’d been here since early morning, and her efforts seemed to have paid off. Pleased with her work, Tara stepped out, the water dripping from her body and onto the grass. She peered at the feathered bundle in her arms. She was not stupid. She knew it would be obvious that this was not her own child. However, no one else had to know that.

She met the gaze of two other female biters who helped look after her son,  but at the current moment, looked rather concerned. They worried that she  might get in trouble for this, or worse, Alpha might not even accept the new child. Tara was well aware of these possibilities, however. Her eyes hardened as she cast them a look that swore them to secrecy, promising that this would remain between them, and between her and the alpha. When the two female biters dipped their heads in affirmation, Tara flashed a pleased smile and resumed sauntering off to find her mate. Her son hobbled at her feet, tugging at her tail feathers to get her attention.

“Mama,” he cooed, looking expectantly up at her.

“Come, Hapi,” Tara said to her son, briefly glancing down at him, “We will show Alpha your new baby brother.” she paused to poke the hatchling’s nose, “…Sol.”

...

The bright circle was beginning to retire, as was Geb, who was making his way home after what had been a long, long day of hunting. He hated it. He hated having to go do far, only to find food for Alpha’s family. He was frustrated by the position he found himself in, but at the very least, he had his family to come home to. He couldn’t wait to be engulfed by his mate’s loving embrace, and to hear the cheers of his son and daughter who had been waiting all day for their father to arrive.

Just the thought of it made Geb smile to himself, lifting his spirits in the process. It was certainly taxing on his body  to do nothing but hunt all day, but in the end, it was all worth it. As long as his family was safe and taken care of, he’d push on, even if it made him absolutely miserable.

As he passed the nests of his pack mates, he could tell that the sentries had paid them a visit. Everyone was either in the process crying their eyes out, or were all cried out and just looked...dead. Almost lifeless. It was no way to live, especially as a pack that was supposed to work with each other instead of against, but Geb was powerless to change it. 

He continued on. For some reason, the closer his home drew, the worse he felt. He had a panic in his chest, a premonition of some sort. Something had happened something bad. Of course, bad things happened in the pack everyday, but this feeling hit particularly close to home. It was as if...something had happened to someone he cared about.

He decided to hurry home as fast as possible so he could relieve himself of his fears. Even as he darted up the slope towards the burrow he’d dug, he couldn’t shake the feeling of dread. It continued to eat away at him until he arrived at the entrance.

Geb came to a halt, his heart thumping so loudly he could practically hear it. He sounded his growl, waiting with anticipation and nerve wracking anxiety as he listened for his mate’s response. It never came.

His mind immediately went a million different places, but he shook his head and brought himself back to reality. He had to stop overthinking this. There was no way anything like that could happen to him. He’d heard about it happening to others, but it never happened to him, and that wasn’t about to change.

Geb wandered inside to find a nearly empty burrow. The spot where his mate sat was vacant, but the lump was still there, as well as her familiar, unmistakable smell, which still lingered. After looking around some more, he discovered that his newborn son was gone too. The only occupants of the nest were his children, who sat with their backs turned towards him. Neph was sitting up while Shaw laid down, clearly pretending to be asleep.

Something happened. Something’s wrong— he ignored his instinct, and looked towards his daughter. He raised an eyebrow, somewhat confused. His mind was in a fog, that was for certain. “Neph...? Where’s your mother?”

Neph stiffened and flinched at the same time. Oh, no. How was she supposed to tell him? She was only a child, she’d never been taught how to be the bearer of bad news? Her mother had told her that often times, when others dislike the message, they vent out their frustration on the messenger— she didn’t want that! She could really use her mother’s wisdom right about now.

“Neph?” Geb repeated, becoming a bit antsy. He twiddled with his claws, his tail swishing from side to side.

Neph couldn’t give him a verbal answer. She couldn’t even face him. All she could do was shake her head, indicating that whatever answer he was hoping for, whatever happy lie he wanted to be told, just wasn’t so. It wasn’t the truth.

Geb frowned as he sensed a salty and bitter taste in his mouth, as he opened it to reveal his teeth. He felt sick and uneasy to his stomach, as it he were going to vomit what little food he’d eaten. When his daughter shook her head in response to his question, he almost did throw up.

Oh, that hurt. That hurt so much he didn’t even feel the pain at first. He stood there a few seconds, in complete shock before his knees gave way, and he screamed like never before, following a ragged gasp of panic. The pain hit him all at once, fueling his agonized screams. He couldn’t believe it. He still couldn’t even comprehend it. The one thing he thought only happened to others had actually happened to him, and as the bright circle’s light died down, so did the only light in his life.


...

Wow, I sure had a field day with this one. I got inspired to write this about a month ago when I was rewatching The Prince of Egypt (which is an amazing movie, 11/10 would recommend), so this is based sort of loosely around the opening of the movie.

I’m probably going to continue this at some point, depending on how well it’s received. I wrote this for the August prompt, simply because I had more motivation for that particular prompt. Now that I got this out of the way though, I’ll hopefully be able to continue working on the new chapter of Across The Seasons, which I’m making good progress with. I hope you guys enjoy reading and have a nice week!

Happy star day, zero-point!! 

I personally liked all of the entries, and it’ll definitely be hard to choose a winner, but here goes

I really liked DarkWolf91’s entry because of how it resembled the LBT art style, and the expressions on each of the characters. LeventeII’s entry was definitely the most creative, as I’d not expected to see a hybrid dinosaur, but I liked it nonetheless! Flathead’s entry was also one that I liked, once again because of the expressions, especially Sucky’s, lol. For Ducky123’s entry, I really admired the background and color palette used. Very vibrant and colorful.   

However, I’ve leaning more towards Zero-point’s entry because it has more of an aesthetic appeal to me, and the medium of watercolor worked very well! But overall, I liked all of the entries, and choosing just one of them was definitely very difficult. 

Welcome to the GoF! It took me a while to sign up too, but after years of lurking on here I finally made an account of my own and joined the prompt challenges. We’re very glad to have you!