Across The Seasons

[jassy]

Chapter 1, The Swamp

Nimble had never been able to live up to her name. She had always been more jumpy and frantic, which, in itself, was a rather abnormal trait for a fast biter. Her name, which was now bound to her like a blood sucking leech, had been given to her in hopes that a great name would bring good luck and fortitude. But her birth brought nothing but misery and hardship upon her family. However, hardship was to be expected when living in the humid swamplands near the great floodplains. As hard as life in the swamplands was, it didn’t change anything, nor provide any excuses. Her mother, the only one out of the pack who didn’t despise her for her struggles, was still gone. All because Nimble had foolishly frozen with fear while her mother shouted at her to flee while being cornered by a sharptooth. Nimble had flinched when she should have scampered, and her mother paid the ultimate price for her own cowardice.

Her father was right to reprimand her. He was always right. She could never hunt, fight or do anything that most fast biters had in their blood, flowing in their veins. There were only two things she knew how to do without fail — freeze in place, and run like a coward. Her father blamed her for his mate’s death, she knew he did. After all, he didn’t exactly bother to hide how he felt. Nimble couldn’t even hold it against him because he had every reason to be disdainful. Had she not frozen in place that day, she could’ve gotten help, and perhaps, her mother would still be with them. None of it mattered, though. Not anymore.

When Nimble was still a young girl, the sky water came. She’d seen sky water before, but this was different. It rained for days on end, without cessation, flooding the end of the swamp that they resided in. During the commotion and chaos of the pack trying to salvage their nests, she found a window of opportunity to flee and leave her old life behind. She headed towards higher ground, away from the floodplains, remaining close enough that she still had the protection of the murky swamp.

Nimble grew up alone, amongst the tall, moss covered trees whose branches stretched across the canopy like long, winding arms. She grew a silky coat of gray and sage green feathers, with black along the tips. A short but slender light gray snout housed a powerful set of serrated teeth which could rip through flesh. Her watchful eyes were a warm orange, like the color of the sky when the bright circle began to set.

Although she’d never been formally taught how to hunt for food, she was able to learn by watching other fast biters who lived among her. Still, she was small fry compared to these larger predators, and therefore minded herself so that she would not give herself an early sendoff to the great beyond.

It was bitter work, but the results were worth it. She’d gone from cowering at the mere mention of hunting, to being able to track down and find sufficient food for herself. That, in itself, was an accomplishment. She only wished her mother could see how far she’d come.

As the bright circle rose and fell many times, Nimble grew into a capable young fast biter. Even more importantly, she was now of the proper age to mate. Her family, for many generations, had a single goal in mind — to continue the bloodline. To pass on the stories of their elders to their young ones, who would pass those stories onto their own young. This manner of passing on traditions was like tying several vines to form a never ending chain.

Nimble, too, had this same goal, even if she’d severed herself from her family long ago. She set out to find a suitable mate, which proved to be an easy task. When arriving at the mating grounds, she was easily swayed by a prospective male flaunting his flamboyant feathers. After they’d finished, the male left. This was how things worked in the swamplands, and many other places. For many fast biters, the extent of their paternal duty was to mate with a female and leave. There was no need for them to stick around, unless they absolutely wanted to. Nimble was well aware that this was the case with her mother and father. They’d genuinely been in love, and her father had that love, the kind that only comes around once in a life time, stripped away from him. She knew that her father would try to mate again. Not in hopes of finding love again, but to make up for the disappointment.

When the warm time came, and the swamp became humid with occasional showers of warm water, Nimble laid a small clutch of three eggs in her nest of leaves and grass at the foot of a tree.  The eggs were tall and oval shaped, covered with brown specks. She laid beside her nest, nuzzling the freshly laid eggs with the tip of her snout. A contented sigh escaped her, and she took a moment to pluck more grass from the ground to shield her eggs from the wandering eyes of any predators. It was imperative that the eggs were well covered, as egg stealers had no use for a nest without any eggs.

Nimble believed that she did everything right. She’d crafted a suitable nest for her unborn chicks. She looked after her eggs and nurtured them like any mother would. But before the cold time could even arrive, she lost her children to the clutches of an egg stealer. She made sure to cover her eggs before leaving to hunt, but somehow, this certain egg stealer saw through her façade. When she returned from her hunt, she came home to an empty nest, where nothing remained but the broken remnants of a few egg shells.

Naturally, she had been devastated. She spent the next few days mourning over her lost children, staying within the throes of her nest, feeling sorry for herself. But as the cold time arrived, and the leaves began to change, so did she. Nimble picked herself up off the ground and decided that she needed to live to see the next season, so that she might have another chance.

She did. As the lights from the north shimmered across the sky in many hues of green, blue and purple, melting the ice and allowing new life to bloom, Nimble laid another clutch of eggs. This time, there were six of them. In her mind, this was a good thing. This way, more of them were likely to survive to adulthood.

She watched her eggs diligently, forgoing all of her own needs to ensure their safety. This was something she’d neglected to do when she last laid eggs; more often than not, she would leave her nest unattended to find food for herself. She knew better now.

...

Many days and many nights passed. Then, one golden morning, the eggs began to move around in the mound of dirt they had been safely nestled in for the past six months. Nimble, catching wind of the rustling leaves, sauntered towards her nest. She lowered her head, sniffing the eggs as they stirred. The frill of feathers on the back of her head twitched slightly as an intriguing curiosity was sparked inside of her. 

The first egg began to hatch. The shell trembled as the hatchling struggled to break free from the protective covering of the eggshell as well as the sticky juices that nourished them. Meanwhile, the rest of the clutch was also beginning to poke their snouts out from their eggshells, taking their first breath of the outside air. The tiny hatchlings squeaked and squealed for their mother, who responded with a soft growl while digging them out of the nest. She knew that from this moment on, until they were fully grown, these small, fuzz covered hatchlings would be completely and utterly dependent on her.

Several hours were spent teaching the hatchlings to walk on their own two feet. Nimble demonstrated for them the steps of walking, placing one foot in front of the other. Her six hatchlings watched in bewilderment as their mother performed this seemingly spectacular feat. Nimble walked in a circle and stopped, motioning for her children to give it a try.

The first hatchling, who had been the first to break out of his shell, tried imitating his mother. He placed one foot in front of the other, awkwardly waddling towards Nimble’s feet. He got the hang of it for a minute, but tripped over a pebble rooted deep into the soil. He let out a squeak as he fell, losing the balance he had tried so hard to maintain.

Nimble let out a laugh, and used her snout to help him back onto his feet. “Don’t feel bad,” She crooned, giving him a gentle nuzzle with her snout, “I didn’t get it on my first try either.”

Teaching her children how to walk moments after hatching proved to be an arduous task, but she managed to accomplish what she set out to do. Once they’d learned how to walk, she arranged them into a single file line.

“Stay close, children,” she warned, “You don’t want to get lost. In the swamp, if you get lost, you stay lost.” A bit blunt, but it was the truth.

Nimble led her children to the stream where there was an abundance of insects for them to hunt. Winged buzzers rode the gentle currents by perching on top of the leaves drifting across the stream, all while searching for fish to catch. The fast biter dipped her head in the stream, taking a sip of the refreshing water.

While she relinquished in the freshness of the water of the stream, a ground crawled steadily approached one of her female hatchlings, snapping it’s pinchers. At the end of it’s tail was a sharp stinger. The hatchling cooed curiously, tilting her head. She began repeatedly pecking the ground crawler in the head, infuriating the insect. Poised to attack, the ground crawler readied it’s stinger and waited for the right moment to strike.

Just then, Nimble came up and snatched the ground crawler up into her mouth, sinking her teeth into the insect’s outer shell, squeezing the life out of the creature as it thrashed around in her mouth. When all movement finally ceased, she dropped the crawler in front of her hatchlings, who made short work of the insect.

While watching her hatchlings eat their first meal, she could feel the presence of other sharpteeth weigh heavily on her. From the corner of her eye, she could see a fast biter, covered in gaily colored feathers, watching every movement, just waiting for an unsuspecting hatchling to accidentally stray too far.

Nimble wouldn’t have it. She spread her arms, lined with feathers that gave them the appearance of wings, and protectively held them over her hatchlings as she led them away from the stream.

...

By the time her chicks were three months old and no longer fit the criteria for being called ‘hatchlings’, they’d already managed to develop personalities of their own, as well as a few amateur hunting skills along the way.

In the early morning, it was the obnoxious noise of hoppers leaping from pond to pond that woke Nimble from her blissful slumber. She opened one eye, and awoke to the chirps and cries of various creatures across the swamp. As sleep wore off, allowing her to awaken fully, she took the liberty of grooming her feathers before standing up.

Underneath her warm feathers were her chicks, sleeping peacefully. She tilted her head at an angle as she peered down at them, rousing each chick with a gentle nudge.

“Mama,” one of her chicks mumbled groggily, “Stop it...”

“Wake up, Tula,” she said firmly, urging her forward, “You know the early morning is the best time to find food.”

Nimble watched as each of them slowly stumbled out of the nest, murmuring their names in order to keep track of each individual child. Once they had all been accounted for, she stood to face them.

“Alright, I’m going to go find us some breakfast. I want you all to stay here, and to stay hidden. Don’t draw too much attention to yourselves. I’ll be back soon.”

As soon as their mother disappeared into the shadows of the trees and bushes, the chicks immediately dropped their act of obedience. Tula pushed one of her siblings into a puddle of mud, cackling and pointing.

Tui, the faint hearted male who had been pushed, spit out the mud that he’d swallowed on his way down. In an act of defiance, he grabbed his sister by the leg and dragged her down with him.

“Ha!” Tui laughed, pointing a finger at her the same way she had done with him.

Tula narrowed her eyes, spitting some mud onto his face. Then, from above, she could hear the familiar voice of one of her other siblings.

“Mud pile!”

Both Tui and Tula glanced up to see the shadow of their four other siblings looming over them as they made a nosedive for the mud puddle. They quickly tried to move out of the way, but in the end, their siblings were piled on top of them like a pyramid.

It was then that Nimble returned with her kill. She surveyed the area, searching the area for her children. When she heard squealing and laughter from a nearby puddle of filthy mud, she set the meal aside somewhere safe and went to investigate, although part of her already knew it was her own young in the puddle.

She peered inside, frowning when she saw that all six of her children were bathing in the mud. She wasn’t shocked nor appalled, just disappointed. One of her chicks spotted her, and squeaked to say hello.

Nimble could only sigh and lower her tail into the puddle, allowing the little ones to latch onto the tuft of feathers at the end of her tail. Once all six of them were safely on her back, she headed away from the mud.

Tula scampered across her mother’s back, climbing onto her head. “Where are we going, momma?”

“Well,” Nimble began, “First of all, you lot are going to take a bath.”

“A bath? But momma, we don’t wanna take a bath!”

“That’s too bad,” Nimble said wryly, “You should have thought of that before you decided to jump into the mud.”

She led them to a pond under the shade of a canopy of conifer trees. The water was clear, patches of green mass drifting about in the current. Nimble then lowered them into the water before climbing in herself, deciding that she could do with a bath.

Tula turned her back towards her mother, giving a huff. She watched as a brown hopper landed on a rock mostly covered with small patches of moss. Grinning, she waved towards the rock, opening her mouth wide.

“Don’t even think about it, Tula,” Nimble warned in a no-nonsense sort of tone.

“Hmph.” Tula’s glance bounced off of her mother as she rested her elbows on the rock, not even bothering to watch the hopper jump away to another pond.

Tui, on the other hand, was thoroughly enjoying getting cleaned. He giggled as his mother’s hands gently poured water over his mud covered body, washing away all the dirt and filth. Once he was clean, he shook the wet piece of moss on his head.

“Mom, did you get something to eat?”

“Yes, love, of course I did,” Nimble replied, scratching him underneath his chin.

“Will we still get to eat some?”

“What sort of question is that? You all are my children, I would go hungry if it means you didn’t have to starve.”

Tui shrugged his shoulders as the rest of his siblings gathered around their mother.

“Oh, by the way, you all are grounded to the nest for a week.”

“Aww! But mom!”

“No buts.”

...

It was now six months since her children had hatched. More importantly, she’d laid a new clutch of four eggs. The warm time was off to a good start.

At the current moment, Nimble was doing exactly what she was doing six months ago; nestling her eggs into the nest, covering them with blades of grass and various leaves. The only difference was that this time, she was not alone. Her chicks watched her closely and intently, each having a different perception of what their mother was doing.

“Is she keeping them warm?” Tui asked, offering an inquisitive tilt of his head.

“No, you idiot,” Tula replied with her usual abrasiveness, “It’s obvious she’s hiding them so the sharptooth doesn’t eat them!”

“You’re both right,” Nimble intervened, mostly to get Tula off of her poor brother’s back, “The eggs need to be kept warm, but it’s also important that they remain hidden so that egg stealers don’t find them.”

“Do you think they’ll like us, momma?” One of her daughters asked, leaning against her mother’s foot while being careful to avoid her lethal toe claw.

“If you’re nice to them, I don’t see why not,” Nimble answered, using her snout to distribute the grass evenly across the nest. “Why do you ask? Are you excited?”

“I don’t know. I’ll have to see.”

“Fair enough,” Nimble said with a chuckle.

...

The months continued to fly by like the breeze that came with the start of the cold time. Nimble’s litter of young fast biters were almost a year old, meaning that the time to give them a taste of the real world was quickly approaching. As her chicks would slowly become more independent, she would be able to dedicate more time to nurturing the unborn hatchlings growing within her eggs, which were due to hatch any day now.

“Mom,” her son complained, tugging at her tail feathers, “Come on! Let’s go!”

 Nimble didn’t even cast him a glance as she positioned her eggs neatly underneath the cover of the grass. “I thought I made it clear to you children that we won’t be going down to the stream this evening. There’s too many sharpteeth out and about, and I can’t go too far away from the nest.”

“But we want to hunt,” Tula said, cutting in on the conversation, “You promised you’d take us!”

Nimble’s tired eyes wandered up towards the sky as she breathed a sigh of exasperation. As a mother, she knew well enough how this would end. Even if she said no, her children would still most likely wander off while her back was turned. If they were going to go either way, she might as well accompany them.

“Very well,” she relented, beginning to rise. “But only for a short while. And we are coming home straight after, understood?”

When all six of them nodded, Nimble added more grass to her nest as an extra precaution. She then stood expectantly in front of her chicks, waiting for them to get lined up. As soon as they had, they were off.

Upon arriving at the stream, Nimble chose to sit by the water’s edge, watching as the bright circle’s light made the water shimmer, as if the stars had fallen from the sky and were now floating ceaselessly in the stream. The gleeful squeals of her children faded away as she pondered on her life. Perhaps it was too soon to jump to conclusions, but as of right now, leaving home was the best thing that had ever happened to her. It allowed her to find her own path, rather than wandering one that had been chosen for her.

As she returned to reality, she turned around to check on her young ones. Her eyes widened at what she saw, and she scrambled to stand up and run to the rescue. “Tula, no, don’t eat that!”

...

While leading her family home, Nimble turned to her daughter, raising a brow as they became concealed under the trees.

“Tula, what did I tell you about creatures with brightly colored markings?”

“That they’re poisonous,” Tula replied begrudgingly, her words followed by a sigh. “But mom, that hopper looked so good!”

“It may look good, but I can guarantee that you won’t feel good after you eat it.”

“I guess so...but no one else stopped me!”

“I know, and I will talk to your brothers and sisters about that,” Nimble assured her, directing a glare towards her five other chicks, who purposely avoided their mother’s gaze.

...

The rest of the trek home was made in silence. Nimble continuously sniffed the air for the scent of any predators, while her young stuck close to her side. When she saw her nest come into view, she could see the small bumps of the eggs hidden within her nest. She felt a huge wave of relief, and could not repress a sigh of delight.

“Last one home is a rotten egg!” Tula called out, making a dash for the nest.

Nimble shook her head at her daughter’s antics, but suddenly froze in place. Her eyes wide, she sniffed the air. The blood seemed to run from her face as a strange rigidness overtook her body, her form resembling that of an unmoving rock.

Tui looked up at his mother, his face contorting with worry. “Momma...? What’s wrong?”

Nimble’s pupils, as thin as narrow slits, darted from left to right. “That...that smell,” she gasped, breathless. A moment passed. A silent moment, full of suspense and unpredictability. Then, in the blink of an eye, she swept her children underneath her with her tail. She zipped over to the nearest tree, crouching down against the bark, shielding her chicks with her feathered arms.

She was completely still, the only barely visible movement being that of her chest rising and falling slowly as she breathed. Her neck was arched, her claws sifting through the dirt, as if poised for an attack.

“M-Mom...?” Tula whimpered, her tiny body shaking like a leaf.

“Quiet, Tula,” Nimble whispered. “Don’t move, don’t talk. Just...be completely still...”

On the other side of the tree, a crested sharptooth quietly moved across the swamp floor. His breath was soft, and yet, the swamp was so quiet that it was the only thing that could be heard. As the beast dragged his cumbersome body forward, each footstep caused the earth to tremble with powerful vibrations that shook anyone who felt them.

There came a point at which the crested sharptooth came to a halt and sniffed the air. It’s eyesight was rather poor, but it’s sense of smell was a great ally when it came to tracking prey. There were creatures here, and the sharptooth knew it. It was only a matter of time before these creatures would unwittingly reveal themselves. All the sharptooth had to do was bide his time.

Tula cried softly as she slowly backed away, right into her mother’s sharp toe claw. She squeaked in pain, reflexively flinching and jumping backwards. Her siblings all looked at her, eyes wide with dread and fear.

Nimble’s breath hitched, her eyes frantically moving from side to side, caught in a fearful unnerving, unflinching stare.

The sharptooth suddenly turned his head at the noise, locking onto his target. Letting out a warning roar that scared the flyers from the trees, the predator’s footsteps quickened, turning into thundering, fast approaching stomps.

In their terror, the chicks squealed and fled from the protection of their mother’s arms, running frantically towards the nest. Nimble tried to keep it together, beckoning for her children to return, but to no avail.

The sound of squealing chicks gave the sharptooth a direction to follow. He advanced towards the frightened dinosaurs, not expecting to find Nimble, who’d leapt in front of him so that the only thing standing between him and the chicks was her.

She was fuming with anger, the feathers on her frill pointed upwards in defiance. She flared her nostrils, roaring ferociously.

The sharptooth roared in response to the retaliation, not missing a beat as he quickly overpowered the fast biter, knocking her to the ground and trapping her under the weight of his foot.

Nimble thrashed around violently, desperately trying to escape from his grip. She stole a quick glimpse of her children, who remained where they stood. She wanted to yell at them to run, to run far away, but the breath had been knocked out of her.

When the sharptooth loosened his hold on her moments later, Nimble rose up and latched onto his leg. Unfazed by this attack, he slashed his claws against her flank while forcefully removing her from his leg, throwing her against the trunk of a nearby tree.

The back of Nimble’s head hit the rough bark with a deafening thud. She doubled over, her field of vision narrowing to reveal nothing more than what was directly in front of her. Sounds began to lose clarity and it seemed that she was slowly slipping away.

“MOMMA!” A warbled and nearly indiscernible voice cried out, failing to reach her. 

Nimble couldn’t even make sense of it. Her eyelids began to droop, and she found herself losing all feeling in her body. Too tired to even think, she succumbed to the overwhelming urge to close her eyes and fall into a deep sleep.

...

When she came to, it was dark. The night circle was high in the sky, while the bright circle was slowly setting. The sky went from a lovely shade of lavender to a warm golden yellow. But none of that mattered, not to Nimble.

The swamp was totally quiet as she slowly tried to recollect her thoughts. Her head throbbing, she struggled to make sense of whatever had transpired. She leaned back against the trunk of the tree, wincing. A sharp pain was radiating from her side, intensifying with each passing moment. She glanced downwards and saw three gashes near her left leg, red and still fresh. 

Suddenly, she remembered. She remembered everything. Letting out a soft gasp, she used the tree trunk to support herself as she made an attempt to rise. She kept her left leg off of the ground, unsteadily ambling forward. 

“T...Tula?” She called, her voice lacking confidence that her daughter would answer . However, part of her was hoping against hope and wanted to believe that she would. Her legs shook as she took another step, calling each of her children’s names, silently begging for any one of them to answer. There was no response.

As blood trickled from the wound in her leg, falling onto the earth in small, red droplets, Nimble doubled over in grief and pain. The pain of bleeding out paled in comparison to the hurt of losing her children for the second time.

“No...” she murmured, hot tears blurring her vision as she stood hunched over, “NO!” In a fit of rage that exploded inside of her, she leapt up and smashed a bare berry bush to pieces with her tail, causing the flyers perched in the branches above to flee in surprise.

Nimble collapsed to the ground, hyperventilating before letting out one loud sob, followed by several more spine crunching sobs. Each sob physically hurt her, creating the sensation of a pounding headache.

She couldn’t believe this had happened to her. Again. It was so much worse this time around. When she lost her mother, she was inconsolable. When her first clutch of eggs fell victim to an egg stealer, she was devastated then as well. But this, this hurt like nothing she’d ever known. Having her children, her own flesh and blood, hatchlings whom she’d grown to love more than life itself ripped away from her so brutally was so, so painful.

“Why,” she sobbed, “Why did this have to happen to me? I did everything right. How could this happen? I loved them, I took care of them, they were going to meet their new siblings...” A realization hit her. She lifted her head and gasped. “The eggs!”

In too much pain to try standing up again, she crawled and practically dragged herself over to her nest. Her face crumpled at the sight before her. Not even the eggs were salvageable. The first egg had a gaping hole right through the middle, and the one beside it was completely squashed. The third was dented, and it would never hatch. The last egg looked unharmed, but when Nimble picked it up, she found that there was a hole in the bottom where all the juices had leaked through.

She drew in a quivering breath, eyes red and bloodshot with dark circles underneath, all stemming from her tears. She’d lost everything. She’d lost all her children. More tears budded in the corners of her eyes, rolling down Nimble’s face as she drowned in her grief.

Nimble cried for a long time. At that point, she was simply waiting for a sharptooth to come and get her. Truthfully, she wished that she had been the one killed, rather than her children. They were innocent. They had their whole lives ahead of them. She let it happen. She let that sharptooth take her children. She’d failed as a mother.

After crying her eyes out, Nimble didn’t feel any better. Her entire world had come crashing down, and she had let it. As she shifted her weight, she heard the growling of her stomach. She looked at her thin frame, and then at the eggs. She was not stupid. She knew that the life inside of those eggs had long since died out.

Having made a decision, she sat up to the best of her ability, digging her teeth into the first egg shell. After biting away at the protective covering of the eggshells, she sucked the juices from inside each egg, heeding her body’s desperate plea for nourishment. In her current state, she was in no position to hunt. Ultimately, she was left with little choice.

For the first time, she took no pleasure in her meal. When she was done, she looked at her bloodied hands. She clenched her fists, taking a deep breath to calm herself as her heart thumped loudly against her chest.

What she needed was a bath. She needed to wash herself down, and think with a clear mind. So, she tried her luck at standing. It took several failed attempts, but she finally was able to get back on her feet again. However, with her injury, she was relatively slower. By the time she reached the nearest pond, the bright circle had set completely. Nimble was unfazed by the passage of time. It wouldn’t make a difference if she never returned to her nest at all. She no longer had anything to protect.

Breathing through her nose, letting out puffs of air while flaring her nostrils, she limped towards the pond. The trail of blood that she had left was well hidden by the thick chutes of grass. First, she dipped her injured leg into the water. The blood pooled into the water, turning it a deep red. Initially, the sharp, stinging pain made her wince, but the cool water helped to take the pain away. Nimble breathed out, slowly immersing herself into the pond.

She allowed herself to relax, and allowed the calming water to wash away all the dirt and blood off of her body. As rejuvenated as this made her feel, all she could think about were her deceased children.

“How miserable,” she mused, speaking to no one in particular, “I knew it was a bad idea for the children to go to the stream so late in the day. But, I gave in. And now, I’m to blame for their fates.” She let out a heavy sigh. “Father was right. They all were. I’ll never be able to protect anyone, I can barely protect myself.”

Wading in the water, she gazed up at the night sky, covered with countless stars. The great night circle brought her the seasons, and the seasons had brought her change. In turn, this change had brought her happiness. Maybe, with the passing of the seasons, her happiness would return to her. And maybe, next time, the seasons wouldn’t take that happiness away.

...

Hey, guys! I’m finally back with some more writing (the last time I uploaded something was in May, oof) This is another major story that I also plan to finish eventually, and hopefully, it’ll motivate me to finish up my entry for the June prompt, lol

And just a note; the main character is a Deinonychus. Hope you guys enjoy reading!

[Sovereign]

Well, this was quite a nice way to start a story. This first chapter had quite many developments but I’d say most of them advanced our understanding of the main character well enough. Nimble (who by the way is also the name of one of my own characters) was established rather believably and I quite liked the way you portrayed her. Her early life and the banter with her children were some of the best parts of this chapter. The kids’ lines also worked really well which was quite impressive considering this was only the first chapter.

The beginning of this installment, as I said, established Nimble’s character nicely but I’m not sure going through all those short looks into her life this early was truly necessary. Alternatively, you could have introduced her backstory slower, bit by bit but this wasn’t necessarily any worse decision from your behalf. The preparation for the ending of this chapter intrigued me as I wasn’t really expecting such a tragic ending to this first chapter. The future, however, is completely open and there are numerous nice possibilities open for this fic.

In any case, this was quite a good introduction to your tale. While there are a few things in the pace of the narrative that could perhaps be improved, this chapter makes me rather interested where Nimble’s path leads her after this monumental tragedy. Well done with this first chapter!

[jassy]

/casually pretends I’m not replying to this three days late

Thanks, Sovereign! Your reviews are always helpful. To be honest I wanted her name to mean something but I literally could not think of anything so I just went with Nimble and sort of built her character off of that, lol. But that’s a coincidence for sure!

I can understand the issues with certain parts of the narrative tho, I was a bit iffy on adding them myself, but in the end, I just went with it.

Regardless, her story is definitely going to be an interesting one, and I look forward to hearing your thoughts on the future chapters.

[rhombus]

This was certainly a promising start to a story, which was both more than a little unconventional and also very effective in making us feel for the main character.  I say unconventional in that Nimble's life is relatively quickly established in the narrative, with her departure from her old pack and her guilt from the past being as sudden as they were introduced.  But then we get to see a focus on her new life that is effective in its conciseness.  We get to see her love for her children and some of their very unique personalities in their dialogue.  And, more than once I openly laughed at the banter.  Especially this:

Tui shrugged his shoulders as the rest of his siblings gathered around their mother.

“Oh, by the way, you all are grounded to the nest for a week.”

“Aww! But mom!”

“No buts.”

But this playfulness and relatable dialogue makes the bitter sting of tragedy in the end so much harder to swallow.  It is uncompromising in both its impact and harshness, and I must say that as an introduction this truly makes me feel for Nimble as a character.  It makes it so that we as readers truly do want her to succeed.  And as making the reader feel for the characters is one of the most important functions of the early chapters of a story, you have certainly succeeded in that objective.

Whenever you decide to continue this rest assured that you will have yet another faithful reader in me. 

[jassy]

Longsnout Sharptooth = Baryonyx
Crested Sharptooth = Cryolophosaurus
Eight Legged Crawler = Mesothelae
Armored Crawler = Arthropleura

...

Strange Clouds


Deep within the mysterious fog of the swamp, a sloppily crafted nest of eggs laid concealed under the shadow of a copse of trees. Hidden in plain sight, most predators wouldn’t have even given the clutch a glance unless they were truly desperate. But for smaller predators, creatures whose diet consisted of food close to the ground, an unattended nest was an ideal catch.

For a short minute, the eggs remained untouched and undisturbed. It was quiet, almost too quiet, as if other creatures knew what was lurking right behind the nest. There was an ominous chittering noise, and an eight legged ground crawler, about as big as a young longneck’s head, creeped up behind the nest, just waiting for the moment to attack. She extended one of her legs, using her stinger to inject poison into the eggshell. However, her moment of glory was short lived as a pair of jaws snuck up behind her, snatching her up in the blink of an eye. The crawler didn’t stand a chance.

Nimble walked away with her kill, not even sparing a second thought to the vulnerable nest of eggs. Even as someone who used to be a mother, who once had her own nest to look after, the fate of these eggs were not her concern, but someone else’s. What’s more, she saved most of the clutch, with the exception of the one egg that had been poisoned by the crawling predator. The hatchling inside would suffocate and die, but the rest of them would, hopefully, survive.

It had been exactly a year since her devastating loss. The memory was still fresh in her mind, as if it had happened yesterday. Nimble could honestly say she hadn’t had a decent night’s sleep since then. She was plagued by sleep stories that constantly forced her to relive her failure each night. She would wake up with a jolt, and not be able to fall asleep after that. It was no wonder she still remembered everything. The stress of the constant nightmares piled on top of her grief had made her look and feel as if she’d aged ten years. The dark circles underneath her eyes, the way she lamely carried herself, and her less than healthy figure all spoke for themselves. She’d been letting herself fall slowly into ruin.

Nimble didn’t see the point in continuing on like she used to. Not at all. She didn’t know who she was living for at this point. Nonetheless, she accepted things as they were, and decided that she would simply leave it at that. From now on, she would live a life of solitude, doing what she needed to in order to survive. No more, no less. It was better that way.

She hardly spent as much time in her nest as she once did. True, she slept in it most nights, but if the time ever came that there was a sharptooth on the hunt  — which it had, several times — Nimble would stay hidden somewhere nearby and ride out the night there until the sharptooth had gone. In the last three years, the warm times and the cold times had changed her home. But the swamp wasn’t the only thing that had changed with the inevitable passing of time.

Nimble strolled across the soggy grass, her feet producing a wet, squashing sound as she moved along. The swamp had always been rather…wet, to say the least, but the water levels seemed to be rising as of late. The fast biter was more annoyed than worried as she hopped up onto a flat chunk of rock, and then another, and then another. She continued her upward climb until she’d reached the highest point, the top of a rocky spire where she could see everything — the mildly flowing stream that ran on and on until it joined the mighty river, the conifer trees dispersed across the valley below, and the mist that shrouded everything beyond that point in a mysterious fog.

Overhead, strange clouds, like thick wisps of gray, were looming. Nimble tilted her head slightly to the right. She had heard about these kinds of clouds. They usually held no ill foreboding, apart from a bit of a downpour. Nothing to fret about.

Finally alone and isolated, she placed the dead eight legged ground crawler in front of her, the lifeless corpse lying limply in between her hands. Lowering her neck, she indulged herself. At first, she tried gnawing on the crawler’s lower body, but breaking through it’s tough exoskeleton was no easy task. When her efforts proved to be in vain, she growled and gave up for the moment. She would need to warm up with some softer meat. She went for the legs, tearing the crawler apart, limb by limb.

...

The longsnout sharptooth dragged her feet through the water, some moist leaves sticking to her scales as she forced herself forwards, sulking miserably with each step she took.

“I was not built to live in a dirty old swamp that smells like clubtail breath,” she griped, an image of the trees reflected in her huge golden eyes. As her pupils narrowed, she bared her overwhelming amount of sharp teeth. She pressed on, but while not looking where she was going, her snout became entangled in a mess of overgrown vines. She stopped, and tore through the vines, snarling while ripping through the parched vegetation. “Ugh! I can’t live like this!”

“Sure you can,” came a smooth and surly voice from the nearby pool, “It’s quite simple. All you have to do is adapt...and thrive.”

The longsnout scowled at the crested sharptooth lounging about in the pool, seemingly having the time of his life. She ducked her head to avoid hitting another tree branch for the third time that morning, stomping over to him. “We’ve been living here since last year, Ro!”

Ro smiled smugly, practically smirking. “You see? You’ve adapted just fine, Mila.”

Mila groaned, throwing her head back, only to hit the bottom of another tree branch. In her frustration, and in a world of pain, she let out an agonized roar. “Ow! F—!” She was mere seconds away from cursing the swamp and her own rotten luck, but curbed her vulgar tongue. Now was not the time to lose her temper simply because she’d hit her head four times over the span of one morning. She breathed in, and breathed out. “…You’re missing the point.”

Ro raised an eyebrow, slowly reclining backwards. He knew where this conversation was headed. “You were trying to make a point?”

“You’ve been chasing this fast biter for almost as long as we’ve been friends,” Mila stated, unconsciously dipping her tail in the water, “I think you’re a little obsessed with this, and I don’t think it’s healthy.”

Ro quirked both of his brows as he rolled his eyes, unbothered. “Mila, please…”

“No, listen to me. Listen. I’m sick and tired of living in this creepy swamp! It’s sticky and it’s hot, and I don’t even have enough room to get around this damn place just because you dragged Yariel and I on this stupid mission to fulfill your crazy obsession. And for what? So far, we haven’t been the least bit successful in what we— no, you set out to do. To tell you the truth, I don’t see the point in all of this, and I’m just...I’m tired, okay?” 

“I understand that, and I’m sorry you’re feeling so miserable,” the crested sharptooth said, nodding along to each word his friend uttered, “But how about we wait for Yariel to get back before either of us say something we’ll regret? We can talk about this calmly as soon as he returns. How about it, hm?”

Mila clenched her jaw, heaving herself and the few scale suckers attached to her leg out of the water. Once on a surface that was somewhat less wet, she dried herself. “Fine,” she agreed, shaking the last few droplets of water from her tail.

Ro permit himself a delighted smile as he dipped his tail in the water. He looked up, flashing a few of his pearly teeth. “Come now, Mila, you should really try soaking in one of these pools. It’s quite relaxing.”

The longsnout felt a strange sensation all over her legs, like tiny nibbles. She looked down, and saw the culprits. As she stretched her neck and began to try to pry them loose, she looked at Ro out of the corner of her eye, so as to make eye contact with him. “I just got out of the water, and now you want me to go back in?”

“Sure, why not? It’s warm, but not too warm. It’s just warm enough that you don’t feel anything and you can just, you know, let go of...” he paused, a blissful expression passing over him, “...Pretty much everything.”

Intrigued, Mila crouched down on the balls of her feet, ignoring the slimy scale suckers on her leg, for the moment. She dipped her hand in the water filling the pool Ro had been soaking in. She raised her eyebrows, gently swaying her hand back and forth to the movement of the ripples. “It’s...really warm.” When the sound of bubbling reached her ears, the realization hit her like a ton of rocks. Repulsed, she glanced over at her crested comrade, who couldn’t look more pleased.

“UGH!” She had just dipped her hand in his…she didn’t even want to think about it. Scrunching her nose, she yanked her hand out of the water, desperately trying to shake it dry. “That is DISGUSTING! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?”

“It’s no big deal, everyone does it,” Ro replied, resting his head on the grass, “Just wash your hand if you’re so worried, you blubbering baby.”

Mila gritted her teeth, wondering how someone could possibly be so infuriated. It took all of her willpower not to destroy the entire grove of trees around them. Instead, she released her anger through a powerful stomp of her foot. “You slimy son of a-”

“Ah ah,” Ro interrupted, waving a single claw, “Watch it. You don’t want Yariel to hear you. And by the way, from the looks of it, you’re the slimy one. Those scale suckers are really attached to your leg. It’s going to take a little more than gentle prying to get those suckers off.”

Realization flashed over the longsnout’s face as she looked down in what could only be abject horror. She tried stretching her neck, but the slimy crawlers only seemed to evade her, rather than come anywhere within reach. She snapped at the bothersome creatures, whispering a barely audible ‘crap’ when her attempts were met with futility.

“Mind your language, Mimi,” chided a muffled voice from the thicket of trees and vines. A gray longsnout sharptooth with dark purple markings stepped out into the light, carrying the dead body of an armored crawler in his mouth.

“Yariel!” Ro clicked happily as he watched the last member of his pack, so to speak, join them at last. “Glad you made it back in one piece. You got us some lunch?”

Yariel nodded and set his kill down on the ground. “There’s not much bigger prey to hung around here...but this guy had been impaled by a piece of a tree stump, so I figured I’d put him out of his misery. The meat should be good enough to hold us over for a few days.”

Having said what he needed to, he walked over to his longsnouted companion. Balancing himself on his haunches, he fixated his jaw around the scale suckers, being very careful to not cut through the skin as he removed the pesky crawlers.

 “Ow!” She exclaimed, wincing while trying to balance herself on one leg so that she didn’t fall over and become covered in even more of the slimy bastards. “Ow! Yariel! That hurts!”

“I know,” Yariel said flatly while continuing his task, “Stay still and it won’t hurt as much. If you move, I might accidentally end up ripping a hole in your leg.”

Mila clenched her jaw, evidently trying not to panic. “Can’t I at least sit down?”

“I’m almost done, don’t worry.” Down to the last scale sucker, Yariel bit down on with his teeth, only to find that it wouldn’t budge. He bit down harder. Still nothing. The gaze from his calm hazel eyes bounced off of Ro, landing on Mila, then bouncing off of her as he looked down at the sucker still crawling on her leg. “Um...this is going to hurt, just a little bit. I need you to stay still.”

The female longsnout obliged, putting all her trust in him. She practically bit on her tongue to keep from crying out, her tail remaining lowered lest she feel the need to utilize it.

Yariel’s brows formed a thin line as his eyes became fixated on his target. Using his claw, which he had more control and dexterity over as compared to his teeth, he scraped underneath the  scale sucker. His expression intensified as the moments passed, applying pressure. Just when he was ready to kill the darn thing and be done with it, the sucker finally let go, after which the longsnout flung it back into the water.

...

Nimble was at her wit’s end trying to pierce through the eight legged crawler’s seemingly impenetrable outer shell. She hacked away at it endlessly, slowly but surely drilling through the insect’s armor. Her mouth was sore and her teeth ached, but this was all she had, and she’d be damned if she was going to let it go to waste. After minutes of applying more and more pressure, her teeth finally managed to pierce through the protective armor, revealing the insect’s juicy insides. She dug in eagerly, savoring the taste. It was more juicy than chunky, but that was fine by her. The ground crawler had proved to be a substantial meal, nonetheless.

Licking the remnants of meat off of her fingers, she peered at her reflection in her claw. She was no longer that anxious little biter who’d never left the inlands of the swamp. She was different, but it was arguable if this change was for the better. While grateful for the knowledge she’d obtained living on her own, she longed for that childlike innocence once more, longed for the unhinged freedom that sometimes made her feel like she could fly off with the wind.

Enough of that drivel, she reprimanded herself. There was no place for fleeting thoughts of blissful happiness here. The only thing that mattered was survival. She had to survive. That was all that mattered.

Up ahead, the bizarre looking clouds were beginning to move closer to the swamp. By now, they were beginning to take shape, forming into dark masses of water vapor, slowly drifting across the sky. Accompanying the appearance of the ominous clouds was the faint rumble of thunder, a telltale sign of what was soon to come.

There was a faraway look in her eyes as a gentle breeze blew through her frill of black-tipped feathers. The slowly approaching clouds hardly seemed to bother her. After the ordeal she’d been through, there was nothing that could possibly feel any worse. As she sat in silence, her sniffer caught wind of a new scent. She sniffed the air, realizing that the source of the smell was in extremely close proximity. Without even turning her head, she glanced backwards, jabbing her killing claw right through the heart of a small lizard-like creature, bringing it’s life to a swift and violent end.

Although she’d just eaten, Nimble saw no reason not to help herself to a light snack. Keeping her claws pressed firmly against her dead prey, she devoured the tiny reptile until it was nothing but bones. She would have liked to eat the bones too, for bone marrow was both healthy and delicious, but alas, her jaws were not strong enough.

She had plowed through the creature’s insides, snout stained with red by the time she was finished. Done with her meal, she turned away from the carcass and curled into a ball, like she did before going to sleep.

Nimble had a bothered, almost restless, expression on her face. She knew she was shaming herself with her habits, doing nothing but eating and sleeping to the point that it was wasteful and gluttonous. But what could she do? Eating and sleeping were her only solace from the nightmare known as her own grief. She couldn’t help but indulge herself.

You’re completely and utterly alone out here. No one cares what you do. Might as well enjoy yourself while it lasts, right?

She chose to listen to the voice inside of her head, closing her eyes and subsequently falling asleep.

...

Chomp!

Mila practically plunged into the gaping hole in the armored crawler’s abdomen, sharp canines gobbling up the chunky insides. Yariel watched her with a nearly indecipherable look in her eyes.

He let out a sigh, waiting until she had her fill before deciding to eat himself. Still sitting on his haunches, he pointed his snout towards the air, analyzing the shape of the clouds as he picked up a scent.

“There’s a storm coming,” Yariel announced, sniffling the musty swamp air.

“A storm?” Ro repeated, hoisting himself out from the pool, shaking himself dry. “How bad?”

Yariel lowered his eyebrows as he continued sniffing the air. Mila took her attention away from her meal and watched him.

“From the looks of it, there’s going to be sky fire. Lots of it.”

“Should we leave?” Mila inquired, staring at the sky with what looked like uncertainty.

“I’d recommend it,” Yariel answered, meeting the female’s gaze, “But it’s up to Ro what he wants to do.”

Ro turned away, taking a moment to weigh his options. Mila and Yariel watched him in complete silence, not uttering a word until he turned back around and addressed them.

“...We’re staying.”

Even Yariel, who rarely showed even a trace of emotion, was surprised. His eyes grew wide, his jaw falling slack.

“What?” Mila exclaimed in disbelief. This fool is out of his damn mind. “Ro, are you forgetting that we’re living in a swamp? If this storm is as bad as if sounds, we have to get out of here before this place floods!”

“You’re being hysterical, Mila,” Ro retorted, brushing off her concern before quietly muttering something under his breath, “...More so than usual.”

Mila bared her teeth, staring Ro directly in the eye. She very nearly lashed out at him, until Yariel touched his snout to hers, reminding her that anger would get them nowhere.

“Sorry,” she said apologetically, taking a deep breath. Calm and collected. Stay calm and collected. She slouched slightly, taking a less defensive stance. “Ro, could you at least tell us why you don’t want to leave?”

Ro, too, had been ready to fight the longsnout. But when he saw that she had backed down and was willing to talk, he also calmed down. “If that fast biter is staying here, then so are we. If she leaves, we leave with her.”

“Again with this?” Mila had an exasperated edge to her voice that she didn’t bother to hide. “Why are you so adamant on chasing her? And why her specifically? If you’re trying to find a meal, there’s plenty of bulky leaf eaters out on the grasslands.”

“I know that,” Ro replied, irritated. “But we’re connected in ways she doesn’t even know about.”

“I believe that,” Mila said, eyebrows furrowed. “I mean, you did kill all six of her children in cold blood. There’s that connection.”

“I was trying to get to her,” Ro barked.

“Yes, you had her, and then what? You didn’t know what to do, so you just left her there to find out her children were gone. You never thought it through, did you? You killed those hatchlings for no reason, Ro. They died in vain.”

Just as Ro began to counter what she said, Yariel cut him off before he could even utter the first syllable.

“She’s right, Ronan. We have a place in the circle of life, just like the leaf eaters do. We kill to feed ourselves and maintain the balance. But the very moment you start hunting and killing for your own personal desires, you’ve lost yourself.” The last three words of his sentence were delivered coldly, like a sharp icicle. “I suggest that you consider what it is that you really want before continuing on this chase of yours.”

“Spare me your lectures, Yariel,” Ro shot back, blood flushing into the red crest atop his head. “Neither of you would understand, and I never expected you to. But what I do expect is that you’ll at least support me in accomplishing my goal, as any true friend would.”

“We are your true friends, though,” reasoned Mila, “That’s why we’re telling you straightforward that this is wrong, and it’s only going to end badly. You’re going down the same path that you’ve been trying to avoid.”

Once again, Yariel had to dissuade her. He touched his snout to hers, gesturing towards the thicket of trees. Mila stared into his thoughtful light green eyes, and sighed resignedly.

“We’ll give you some space,” Yariel said, following Mila into the thicket. “But Ro, please don’t make a rash decision. Just...think about it.” With that, he disappeared into the shadows.

Ro didn’t bother to watch them leave. He sat down on the grass, yellow eyes clouded with thought. Ugh. How annoying.This is all San’s fault, and he still managed to get away with his treason. I’m going to kill that no good traitor if I ever see him again…I swear it.

...

Nimble was in her home, in the swamp. It was eerily quiet; she could hear the sound of her breathing as well as the sloshing of the water. She peered at her reflection in the pond, uninterested. Suddenly, a tiny fast biter, less than a year old, became visible in the reflection, causing the color to run from the fast biter’s face.

Nimble’s heart sank as she whipped her head around to face the hatchling. Her pupils turned so small, one could hardly see them unless they looked closely. For a few moments, she was at a loss for words. She closed her eyes and drew in a breath.

“T-Tula...?” She offered her ‘daughter’ the sweetest smile she could conjure. “What…What are you doing here, sweetie?”

Tula’s expression did not change. “Momma, you didn’t protect me. You promised you always would. You promised!”

“What? No, I did— agh!” before Nimble could even finish her sentence, several of her teeth fell out of her mouth, disappearing into the water. She let out a muffled shriek, slapping a hand over her mouth.

Behind her, another voice made itself known.

“Why weren’t you there for us?”

She turned around and saw Tui. He, too, had that same blank expression that seemed to stare into her eyes, boring right through her.

“No, no, I—” Even more teeth came loose from her gums, falling out of her mouth. It seemed that no matter how much she wanted her children to know that she tried her hardest to protect them, she simply couldn’t. She might as well have failed altogether. Hot tears blurred her vision as she began to sob convulsively, covering her eyes with her arms.

...

“AHHH!”

She woke up screaming. Her tail was curled in between her legs, up to her stomach. She had her arms over her face, hands balled into tight fists. She seemed as if she were shielding herself from something.

As she began to awaken, Nimble breathed in and out. Her chest rose and fell steadily, although she felt far from steady. Licking her lips, she closed her eyes and sat up. Then, she breathed out one last time. I’m calm. I’m good. It was just a sleep story…everything’s alright now. Everything’s alright.

But it wasn’t. One year. One year and she still hadn’t been able to move past this. She knew why. I failed them. They were my responsibility...and I failed. I deserve this. She hung her head in shame, feeling something damp run down her cheek.

Nearby, a buzzer was zipping through the air. These gigantic insects were common denizens of the swamp and ruled the swampy skies. However, this particular buzzer was getting dangerously close to the fast biter, buzzing in her ear.

Nimble’s frill and tail twitched in agitation as she let out a low growl.

Buzz, buzz, buzz...

The noise continued. Then, without any prior warning, Nimble whacked the buzzer with her tail, the sheer force knocking it to the floor. She walked over, squashing the buzzer underneath her foot. She had a harassed look in her eyes, as if she were horrified by her actions but at the same time was powerless to stop them.

She stepped away, looking on in horror at what she had done. While it was only a buzzer and not another dinosaur, it was still a life she’d taken without reason. It terrified her to know that this was her doing. It terrified her to know that she was struggling to gain control over herself. Of course, there was only one solution — run away.

Nimble quickly fled the scene. She hopped off of the spire, climbing from rock to rock until she was back on the ground. As she padded across the swamp floor, she passed a couple of silk-lined crawler dens. The eight legged crawlers, for some reason, were fleeing the holes where they’d dug to house their  lairs. Nimble ignored them, and continued on.

When she arrived, her home was already beginning to flood. The tree roots which she had dug her nest were buried under the water, and so was the nest. The water was about ankle deep.

The blood ran from her face as she sniffed the area, while her eyes searched for anything that could be salvaged. There was nothing. Her nest, built from dirt, had been washed away and became mud. The leaves and grass that were also part of her nest were now floating aimlessly in the pool that surrounded her.

Somehow, she wasn’t completely devastated, but the loss of her home was still a loss, regardless. She began to slouch as she lowered her neck, a common gesture of displeasure among her kind.

The crackle of sky fire pulled her attention towards the sky. It sounded awfully close. Furrowing her brows in resolute determination, she hoisted herself up onto the tree. The scar on her flank still brought her pain to this day, but it was manageable. Using her talons, she climbed higher and higher until she was at the very top. What she saw made all emotion disappear from her face, leaving only shock and a looming feeling of dread.

Out towards the horizon, the gray sky was now full of storm clouds. The clouds were often illuminated momentarily as a streak of sky fire ran across the bleak and gloomy sky. Down below, the river had grown wider, covering much of the valley in a wide expansion of water. She now knew what it meant. She now realized why the crawlers had fled their dens, and why the water had been rising.

The swamp was flooding. Nimble’s fear had come true. She always knew it was only a matter of time before this side of the swamp became a watery prison, just like the other end of the swamp where she was born. But now, that day she dreaded for so long had arrived, and with the oncoming storm, things were about to get much, much worse.

[Sovereign]

It’s nice to see that Nimble has managed to find a new path for herself in life after the tragic ending of the last chapter. This unstallment felt better organized than the last one and already you opened some interesting stuff with Nimble, Ro and Yariel, most notably the middle one’s obsession with the mysterious fast biter. We know very little thus far about the circumstances which brought these three together or about Ro’s motives but it seems that something interesting has taken place between these two chapters.

The first scene where you went through Nimble’s thoughts was well-assembled as was her discussion with Ro. The latter’s attempts to make Nimble adapt to the marsh was especially well-written as his words bordered between playful jokes and pure forcing. Yet, it seems like the two have already a decent history together and it’ll be interesting to see what’ll happen what will happen once Ro gets what he wants (if he ever will, that is). The ending was also described nicely and a flood in a marsh could easily get dangerous. I’m confident that the flood will affect the trio’s mission in some way and I’m looking forward to seeing where these three companions’ journey takes them.

[rhombus]

This is a rather interesting continuation of the previous chapter.  Nimble is adapting the best that she can after her recent tragedy, though at the cost of becoming a solitary creature by choice in order to avoid experiencing the pain of loss again.  It is an understandable reaction.

The discussion between Ro and Mila is quite an illuminating one, and also humorous in its own way.  We can clearly see (and hear, from her bickering) why she is not pleased about living in the hot and humid swamp.  Not only does she have to deal with leeches (the removal of which you described quite well) but she also has to deal with the apparently worsening conditions.  If the last scene with Nimble is any indication then they might all need to relocate soon.   I will be eagerly looking forward to seeing how everyone deals with this change in climate in the chapters to come. 

[jassy]

Swift Biter = Unenlagia
Longtail Biter = Coelophysis
Swimming Biter = Hyneria


                             The Eye Of The Storm


The environment couldn’t have been more calming. The two swift biters were standing right outside the cave they resided in, along with their small pack. In front of them was a wide expanse of green, the sound of gently flowing water blending in with the calls of a variety of creatures hidden within the nearby grove of trees. The sky was more than a bit gloomy, but the looming storm seemed to have passed over them, heading southward.

Still, the juvenile swift biter nervously shifted her weight, the frill of dark indigo feathers on the back of her head twitching repeatedly as a response to her anxiety. She had her neck slightly arched, as if she were ducking her head. She was completely silent, save for her growling stomach. Feeling a bitter taste in her mouth, she impulsively clutched her abdomen to silence the sound of her body begging for nourishment, not about to make matters any harder for her brother.

Unfortunately for her, her brother, who had been standing right beside her, heard the noises coming from her stomach. He instinctively raised an eyebrow, his glimmering light blue eyes boring right into hers.

“I thought you told me you weren’t hungry, Indigo?” The cerulean swift biter asked, demanding an explanation.

“That’s because I’m not, Blue. Actually, I’ve never felt more full in my life!”

“Uh huh...” Blue nodded along slowly, narrowing his eyes. He brought his long and slender snout closer, his sniffer picking up the scent of agitation, fear, and most importantly, dishonesty. “Why are you lying to me?”

“Um...”

Just drop it. Just admit that you lied to him. Explain yourself, and apologize.

No, no! Don’t give in! Are you out of your mind? If you tell him that you’re hungry, he’ll just scold you for not understanding how hard it is to find food around here. Don’t be so ungrateful.

Well, maybe, but I don’t think he’d—

“Indigo?”

Indigo flinched as she snapped back to reality in the blink of an eye. “Huh?”

“I asked you a question,” Blue said in a tone of forced calm. “Why did you lie to me?”

Indigo refused to look her brother in the eye. Rather, she stood hunched over, her body language showing that she was fearful of telling the truth.

“Indigo. Eyes up here.” Blue pointed towards his face.

The biter did not oblige, fixating her gaze towards the ground she stood on.

“Indigo,” Blue repeated in a considerably softer tone, “Indigo, look at me.”

Begrudgingly, Indigo looked up at him. She was definitely scared, but she also seemed angry.

Blue’s body began to relax as he sighed through his nostrils. He could see the uncertainty in her eyes. Oh, Indigo. He used his claw to gently tilt her chin upwards, offering one of his reassuring smiles, the kind that he only showed his younger sibling. “Don’t slouch so much, sister,” he told her, “It doesn’t suit you.”

This statement only made Indigo slouch further, her frown intensifying to form a piercing glare.

Blue nearly snorted in amusement, but repressed the urge. This was a serious, heart to heart conversation. He cleared his throat. “Indigo, I’m just trying to look out for you.”

“I know,” Indigo said begrudgingly. “I just didn’t want you getting mad at me.”

Blue raised a brow and gave a confused tilt of his head. “Why would I be mad at you? It’s only natural for you to be hungry...”

“I didn’t want you to think that I was taking what little food we have for granted, or that I was acting spoiled. I know how hard it is to find food right now, so I didn’t say anything.”

“Indigo, who put that idea in your head? There’s nothing wrong with telling me that you’re feeling hungry.” He rubbed his snout against hers in a comforting gesture before he continued, “In fact, I encourage you to tell me. It helps me take better care of you.”

Indigo didn’t quite return the gesture. “But what about you?” She asked, worried. “You’re going hungry too, you shouldn’t have to hunt for me.”

Blue shook his head. “Indigo, listen to me. I’m your brother, and you’re my responsibility. That means that you come first, and that whatever you need is more important than whatever I need.”

“That’s not true!” Indigo exclaimed, taking a step back. She wondered how he could say something like that, and think so lowly of himself. Didn’t he know how much he was needed? “You need to take care of yourself, too. I…I don’t know what I’d do without you, Blue.”

For a moment, Blue was silent, at an utter loss for words. He smiled warmly at her, but quickly brushed it off by ruffling her frill. “Oh, come on. Don’t get all sappy on me, little sis. I’m not going anywhere, not as long as I have a clumsy little sister to keep from hurting herself.”

“Get your hands off me, you jerk,” Indigo sputtered, giggling as she swatted him away. Her eyes were now filled with the glee and joy that Blue always longed to see.

“Well,” Blue announced, placing his hands on his hips, “Now that you’re feeling better, how about I go find us some fish to feast on?”

Whatever improvement Indigo made in her demeanor and mood suddenly vanished as she receded back into herself. Although she had come clean about one of her fears, there was yet another that had to be brought to light.

When Blue turned around to see his sister seemingly frozen in fear, the smile fell from his face. He recognized the petrified look on her face — he’d seen it many times before. There was only one dinosaur that scared her badly enough that she would simply shut down.

He furrowed his brows, his mouth pressed into a thin line. “Indigo,” he said firmly, “Campion isn’t going to hurt you. Not while I’m around.”

Indigo hardly seemed convinced. Please don’t leave me alone, please don’t leave me here with him, let me come with you. Please. Please, Blue! She was shaking, practically twitching, and couldn’t seem to stop. Her breathing turned shallow, slowing down enough to the point that her brother could hear each breath that she drew.

Blue quickly picked up the scent of panic and fear lingering around his sister. He looked her over, eyes traveling up and down. She was so pale she looked like she might pass out.

“Indigo. Indigo, look at me. Over here.” Blue always did this to grab her attention and to make her focus on what he was telling her, and nothing else. She couldn’t be consoled if she was too focused on the source of her fear.

Indigo was too beside herself with fear to look at him. Instead, she clamped her eyes shut, her toe claws digging into the dirt. She hated being alone. With her brother, she had some degree of normalcy. But when by herself, she was an anxious, nervous wreck.

“Indigo,” Blue said again, calmly, “Indigo, open your eyes.”

Indigo’s eyes snapped open, pupils shrinking into narrow slits. “C-C-Can’t I come with you, Blue? Please...? I promise I’ll do whatever you say!”

Blue offered her a sad smile as he shook his head. “Listen, I want to take you with me, but I can’t.” He took a moment to pause, and rethink his words. “I mean, I can, but I won’t. There’s no need to risk your life for a couple of swimmers.”

“But you’re going,” Indigo countered, stomping her foot against the ground in defiance, “Someone needs to watch your back!”

“I will be fine. I’m an adult, I can handle myself. But you’re still a child, and you have a lot to learn. If something happened to you, I’d never forgive myself, because I was the one that brought you along.”

“...So you see me the same way everyone else does,” she muttered, her eyes back on the ground, “You see me as a liability.”

“What?” Was that really how she saw herself? As nothing more than a disadvantage, an inconvenience? “Indigo, no, I don’t—”

“It’s fine, Blue,” she said dismissively, turning towards the cave’s entrance, “Just go.”

Blue opened his mouth to say something but held his tongue. He nodded, and began to head down to the nearby river. “I’ll be back. Stay safe, sis.”

...

Buzzers rained from the sky, zooming down towards the moist swamp floor. The electricity surging through the clouds made for some intense sky fire that could strike someone down from the sky, hence the reason for the buzzers flying so close to the ground. This was an unexpected downpour for the water predators, who snapped their powerful jaws in an attempt to catch a bite.

Nimble ran through the water as best she could, the current creating significant resistance. The sky was beginning to darken, with not a single trace of sunlight to be seen. The fast biter searched the area frantically, looking for a way out that didn’t include drowning.

Damn it all. Everything looks the same! She’d lived here for years and still had trouble finding her way around. She couldn’t think of anything more pathetic. The female biter  tried sniffing for a way out, but the smell of dirty water reigned supreme.

It seemed she would have to do this the hard way — through trial and error. If one way led to a dead end, she would simply have to try another. She maneuvered her way through the muck, fighting to keep her head above water. Since she was not a swimmer, Nimble often found herself coughing and sputtering, even in the shallows. She could only imagine what was waiting for her in deeper water.

...

Mila scuffled to keep her footing in the ankle deep water, struggling to match Yariel’s pace. The water seemed to be going against her, throwing whatever it could at her to slow her down.

Yariel stopped moving, and turned to see his companion experiencing great difficulty in navigating through the murky waters. He waded over, allowing her to lean against him so that it might be easier for her to keep up.

“Come on,” he urged gently, “We have to find Ronan.”

“I can’t wait to see the look on that bastard’s face,” Mila choked out, “We could have left as soon as things started looking bad, but nooo! He just has to endanger us too!”

Yariel understood where her anger towards Ronan stemmed from,. He also knew it was completely justified. And yet, he understood why his friend was so determined, and why he was so willing to risk everything for the sake of one dinosaur’s capture. Still, I just hope this is what he really wants...and if not, I hope he’s able to find the right path before it’s too late for him.

“He’s...complicated,” Yariel finally said after a long pause, “He’s been through a lot. We  shouldn’t hold it against him. Besides, he’s done a great deal for us. This is the least we can do for him.”

“I know, you’re right. He just gets on my nerves sometimes.” A lot of the time.

The two longsnouts pushed on through the water until they passed through the thicket of trees where Ronan would be waiting. When they arrived at last, Ro was standing in one of the pools, appearing to be examining the water.

When he sensed the presence of his friends, he looked up. He met their gazes, and they met his. In that moment, he knew that they were all thinking the same thing.

We have to get out of here.

...

Indigo isolated herself in a corner of the cave,, wanting to ward away any attention that could be drawn towards her.. A good portion of the pack was out hunting, and Indigo could only hope that Campion was among them. She was better off being ignored than taken notice of, especially by him.

However, she knew that it didn’t really matter whether or not he had gone with the others. He would be back, and when he did return, Indigo would have to endure more of his ruthless taunts. As much as she wouldn’t wish his wrath on anyone, she would prefer he chose someone else to pick on besides her. Maybe it was because she was naïve, or maybe it was because she made herself an easy target. She didn’t know. All she knew was that she wanted nothing more than for that brute to simply let her be.

Trying to get her mind off of Campion, she breathed in, and then out. She repeated this process until she could breathe somewhat normally again. Finally, her muscles began to relax...

“Indigo! How nice it is to see you.” A rough and gravelly voice suddenly made itself known behind her.

Indigo instinctively flinched as her body jerked upwards, becoming rigid once more. She did not turn around, fearing that her superior would not take kindly to the fearful look on her face.

“H-Hello, Campion...sir.” Her voice trembled as she desperately tried to keep from crying. She’d never make it on her own like this. She had to be more strong and resilient.

There was a glint in Campion’s turquoise eyes. He almost looked amused, in some sick, twisted way. It was as if he enjoyed seeing the younger dinosaur being pushed to the point of a mental breakdown.

“Tell me, Indigo,” he said, briefly examining his talons, “Why are you by yourself? Where is your brother?”

“Fishing,” Indigo replied, glancing at him from the corner of her eye.

“I see. Well, I hope you don’t mind me asking you another question…do you?”

“Um, actually—”

“Good, good,” Campion interrupted, disregarding whatever it was that she had to say. It wasn’t important to him. “So, tell me, do you enjoy sparring?”

His question caught her slightly off guard. She held his gaze for a moment before looking back at the wall in front of her. “No...not really.”

“And why is that? You do know that sparring is how we defend our honor, right?”

“Well, yes—”

“It’s more than just sport, Indigo. But…I suppose I can’t really fault you for your ignorance, as you are still quite young and naïve. However,” he paused, “You are growing into the lovely young swift biter I always knew you could be. What’s more, you’re at that perfect age where you can finally understand the importance of honor and the willingness to defend it.”

Indigo could feel something tug at her stomach as her eyes darted frantically back and forth. She could see right through his lies, and it scared her. Where was he going with this, exactly? It couldn’t be anything good, that was for certain.

“And now...I want you to prove your worth to me.”

His words nearly made her heart leap from her chest. She began to feel warm all over, like she was trapped in a raging fire with no visible way out. Her stomach churning, she swallowed the thick and metallic tasting lump in her throat, not knowing what to say, or how to respond. One wrong move could mean the end for her. Blue, where are you? 

...

Blue’s eyes were fixated on the water filling the river, watching as remnants of leaves and grass drifted across the image of his reflection in the ripples. The water was dark and a bit dirty, making it difficult to see anything.

In order to get a better view of the river’s denizens, Blue dipped his head into the river. Holding his breath, he scanned the area. Many of the swimmers were small, scaly creatures which shimmered as they glided across the water. He ignored them, as they would not make a suitable meal. He shifted his focus towards the rocks, where he could see two larger fish circling each other, as if they were chasing each other around the rocks.

Perfect. He extended his arm, using his talons to latch onto the smaller fish out of the two, as it was closer. If he tried to reach any further, he’d end up falling in. He made sure he had a firm grip on the swimmer as it swam from side to side in an attempt to wriggle free. In fact, Blue was so focused on the fish that he didn’t notice the dark and indiscernible figure lurking near the bottom of the river.

Blue’s body lurched forward as the swimmer’s struggle continued. To many predators, a creature thrashing and moving around meant that it was injured, and hence, would make for an easy meal. Blue was woefully unaware of this fact.

On the floor of the river, where the vegetation had overtaken an old log, covering it in green moss. It was inside of this log where one of these supposed predators had effectively concealed itself. Until now.

The swimming biter slowly emerged, her large eyes scanning the area for any other potential meals that might be worth the effort. Only tiny swimmers. Nothing exceptional. Her eyes locked onto the biter thrashing back and forth near the surface. She swayed her powerful tail fin, moving it from the left to the right as she allowed the natural lighting to expose her shimmering silver scales. 

Up by the surface, Blue bit into the swimmer’s flesh, causing a cloud of blood to color the water a deep red. For a biter who had a younger sister to care for, he surely had a dangerous lack of knowledge pertaining to the dangers that the water posed.

The scent of fresh blood entered the swimming biter’s nostrils. Her pupils dilated, and with a swift lash of her tail fin, she glided through the water, accelerating towards the unsuspecting swift biter.

Just as Blue began to breech the surface for some air, a silvery blur zipped past him, sweeping the swimmer out of his hands

“Woah!” He exclaimed, flailing his arms. Less than a few feet away, the swimming biter gulped down what was supposed to be his lunch in two seconds, tops. Then, her unnerving glare shifted towards him.

Without looking back, he paddled towards the surface, gasping for air as his head burst through the water. He scrambled onto dry land, making a mad dash for home, ignoring the sound of rumbling thunder.

...

“So, how about it?” Campion pressed, getting uncomfortably close to the young swift biter. “I can understand being scared, considering how little you’ve contributed to the pack. I wonder what your parents would think of you if they could see you now. Their daughter, always cowering in fear and shame. But never mind that. Even for the most revered, there is so much at stake...even I was a bit apprehensive when my father told me that I had to fight him to defend my own honor.”

Indigo could feel her sense of self worth quickly diminish. He poked and prodded at her every insecurity, everything she’d ever loathed herself for. It was as if he were confirming her worst fears. She sunk lower than ever before. Even her body language displayed submission. Then, something ignited inside her. Like a spark.

“You can’t defend what you don’t have,” she said in a low voice. However, there were no background noises to block out what she said. She was perfectly audible, and there was no doubt that Campion heard her.

Indigo bit her lower lip, keeping her eyes fixated on the cave wall. She didn’t even want to know how angry he looked. She’d rather not have nightmares.
 
“Indigo.” His voice was oddly calm. Too calm. “Turn around for me, please.”

Indigo did not budge. He was too cunning to not be planning something. She refused to make herself a victim.

“Indigo...please don’t be afraid. I’m your leader. I just want to speak to you, and it’s quite rude to speak to someone with your back turned towards them, no?”

Indigo winced. She wished she’d never opened her mouth. Slowly, she pivoted her body, her back facing the wall. She opened her eyes.

Campion smiled, and slashed her across the snout with his sickle claw. Her scales were torn open as the sharp tip of his claw dragged itself across her slender snout.

It all happened so quickly that Indigo didn’t have time to react. All she knew was that she was suddenly on the floor, a hand over her snout. Tears were budding along the corners of her eyes as she drew in a quivering breath, removing her hand to see blood staining her fingers.

“Stand and fight, Indigo!” Campion demanded, clenching his fists.

“No! I won’t fight you, sir. Please— I’m— I’m sorry!” She cried out, her voice resembling a high pitched squeak. “I-It was just a slip of the tongue! It won’t happen again, I promise you!”

“You will learn the proper respect to show to a pack leader, and misery shall be your teacher.”

The only biters present to witness the scene were the new mothers, who were powerless to stop their leader. Even if he killed a member of his own pack, there was nothing that could be done. As much of a brute Campion was, he helped them survive for this long. They would be lost without him.

It was then that Blue returned from his failed fishing trip. He hadn’t stopped running the entire way, and was out of breath. When he stopped to catch it, he noticed his sister on the floor, a few small droplets of blood at her feet. The next thing he saw was Campion, a stain of dried blood on his sickle claw.

Blue saw red. Suddenly, he forgot all about that terrifying swimmer, nothing but unhinged anger coursing through his body. He lunged forward, tackling Campion and pinning him to the ground.

Of course, the rest of the pack, having returned from their hunts, had to see this. Blue couldn’t find it in him to care, and he didn’t want to. His pupils turned to narrow slits,
his chest heaving. There were no words, but the expression on each of the biters’ faces said more than a thousand words.

After a moment of tension so thick it could be sliced through, Blue broke the ice.

“I don’t care who you are, you pompous brat, I don’t care if you’re the leader of the pack, but you do not touch my sister, do you understand me? If you lay a claw on her...”

“Blue!” A voice boomed among the worried murmurs of the pack members. “Blue, stop it!”

Blue knew who the voice belonged to, but elected to ignore it. He brought his claw to Campion’s neck, applying enough pressure to cause a pinching sensation. 

Campion scowled intensely at Blue, his eyes never leaving the other swift biter. “Your beloved sister brought this on herself. You should teach her some respect. But come to think of it, your parents probably never taught you either.”

Blue’s eyes widened, although his face remained locked in a tight frown. He snarled, retracting his claw. He was no longer thinking about the consequences of his actions. All he could think about was all the insult and injury this pathetic excuse for a leader had inflicted upon his family. He let out a growl, and lunged his claw towards Campion’s heart.

“BLUE! Don’t!” His sister pleaded, not wanting her brother to be held responsible for something that she was technically the cause of.

Just in the nick of time, a lilac colored blur tackled Blue, preventing him from potentially murdering the pack leader.

“Agh! Let me go, Amina!” Blue barked, grunting as he struggled underneath the other biter’s grip.

“Blue! Control yourself!” Amina did not relent, and sported a menacing glare while keeping the furious swift biter pinned to the earth, standing her ground even as he kicked and swung at her. 

“Why should I?” Blue reciprocated her glare, gritting his millions of serrated teeth. “This bastard’s caused us nothing but trouble!”

Campion did not say anything as he slowly rose, dusting himself off. He walked over to the two swift biters, an indescribable emotion on his face. “Blue. Amina. Please rise.”

Blue and Amina both stood up, while Amina shot blue a warning look that told him she would handle this and he was not to intervene. She moved in front of Blue, whose sister ran up to him, checking him for any injury.

Amina bowed respectfully to Campion. “Please, on behalf of my brother, I apologize. He reacted out of anger. I can assure you, sir, that it won’t happen again.” She furrowed her brows, aiming a glare towards Blue.

“Thank you, Amina,” Campion answered, offering a bow of his own, “I appreciate your maturity in this situation.”

“I don’t!” Blue interrupted, tearing away from Indigo and storming up to Campion. “You can’t silence us! We’re members of this pack, too, and we deserve justice!”

“You’re right,” Campion said in a unsettling yet suave voice, “You and your family do deserve justice.”

“And I have the right to speak out against your tyranny !” Blue continued, ignoring Amina’s pleading gestures. “The only reason why no one tells you to your face how bad of a person you are is because they’re all afraid of you!”

Amina raised a hand, motioning for him to shut his mouth before he got them all killed.

Blue did not listen. “You can’t hurt me for speaking my mind. So tell me, what are you going to do about it?”

Even Indigo knew that was the worst thing Blue could have said to him. That was an insult to the pack leader, as well as a direct challenge. Her eyes grew even wider than they already were, frantically darting back and forth from Blue to Campion, from Campion to Blue.

For a moment, Campion was silent and unreactive. He looked at the three swift biters, as if sizing them up. Then, his smile turned upside down. “Since your brother and nephew was so bold as to challenge me, clearly, he has confidence that he can provide for you. So...all three of you will be banished to the outlands. And if you are spotted anywhere on the marked territory, you will be killed on sight.”

...

“Mila! Yariel!” Ronan rushed to the aid of his friends, the water sloshing underneath his feet. “Are you two alright?”

Mila could only look back at Ronan, dumbfounded by his concern for their wellbeing. On the contrary, Yariel nodded his head.

“We’re fine, Ro,” he answered, “But it’s getting really difficult to move around in all this mud and water. We can try to track down the fast biter, but I don’t think we’d get very far. Still, it’s your call.”

“Let’s not worry about her right now. We won’t be able to follow her if we’ve all drowned.”

“Hmph,” Mila huffed quietly, “Since when did he grow a brain?”

Yariel repressed the urge to laugh, knowing how much of an airhead Ronan came off a sometimes. “Alright then. We’ll have to head north, away from the storm. In any case, there’s a chance that our fast biter is headed that way too.”

Ronan nodded silently, moving in front of the two longsnouts. “Come on. We don’t have much time. Make sure we can all smell and hear each other. We don’t want anyone to get lost.”

And so, the three sharpteeth began their trek through the rapidly flooding marsh, unsure of what exactly fate had in store for them.

As Mila trailed behind Yariel and Ronan, she caught wind of something. A scent. She didn’t have the greatest eyesight, and relied heavily on her sense of smell. In a sense, her sniffer replaces her eyes. To her, all the different smells entering her nostrils were like a rainbow of different colors, all swirling around in perfect harmony.
The longsnout’s tail began twitching spasmodically as she allowed her sniffer to lock onto the smell.

Yariel caught a glimpse of his companion. He knew what her strange behavior meant. “What is it, Mila? Do you smell something?”

Ronan’s attention was suddenly grabbed as well, and he turned his gaze towards the female.

“Mhm,” she replied, “It’s the fast biter.” She changed her course, and allowed her sniffer to lead the way.

...

Nimble gasped as she battled against the natural forces of the swamp. The water, threatening to crush her throat, was almost up to her mouth, bringing with it the foul tasting remnants of grass and leaves floating aimlessly towards wherever the current carried them. Unfortunately for her, it didn’t seem to be letting up any time soon.

Oh, what she wouldn’t give to be a swimmer right about now. Her eyes were fearful, as if she were desperately trying to run away  — which she was. Sadly, running wasn’t an option for her. Certainly, if there was any land to run on, she would most definitely take that route.

As the water got deeper and darker, Nimble found herself unable to feel the ground beneath her feet. Her eyes widened, her feet frantically kicking, searching for some leverage. There was none.

I’m going to die. I’m never going to make it out of this cursed place. I’m going to die here. I’M GOING TO DIE! I’M ACTUALLY GOING TO DIE IN THIS STUPID SWAMP! Her mind rushed into a blind panic, prohibiting the fast biter from thinking about anything other than the looming threat of death hanging in the air.

Now at mouth level, the water burned Nimble’s throat with the pain of a thousand teeth digging themselves into her flesh. Not that she knew what that felt like, but if it were ever to happen, she imagined it would feel a lot like this. It stung. It hurt. It hurt so badly, she almost wanted to let herself drown. Almost.

She closed her mouth, tightly clenching her jaw as she used every ounce of willpower in her body to resist the urge to breathe. It worked, but she knew she couldn’t hold her breath forever. Still, she’d be damned if she was giving up without a fight.

She pushed on, or at least tried to do so. It was then that Nimble found that she couldn’t move. She could not move her arms, nor her legs. All she could do was stare listlessly as her home flooded before her glazed eyes.

Nimble felt something tug at her leg. It felt like a gentle pull. Then came the sudden pang of pain as whatever was down there yanked her into the water with a single burst of power. Entirely reflexively, she let out a screech, her cries muffled by the bubbling water.

As her throat closed up, the water she was quickly taking in was forced into her stomach. In her panic, as she realized her life was ebbing away, she tried to wriggle free from the creature’s deadly grip, only to find that she could not move. She remained as she was for a moment, her breath coming out of her mouth in the form of bubbles that floated freely to the surface. In her last lucid moments, all she could think about how she wished it were that easy for her. After that, everything just stopped. There was nothing but a ceaseless river of darkness which she slowly drifted across.

...

Mila followed Nimble’s scent, wading through the now knee deep water, her two companions following her. One of the main reasons that Ronan recruited her for his mission was her sniffer. She could sniff out anything from any corner of the world.

“We’re getting close,” Mila informed them, her eyes pointed north, “I don’t think we’ll have to do much, though. She’s unconscious.”

“You could tell that from her scent?” Ronan inquired, looking rather impressed.

“No,” Mila answered with a shake of her head. She then pointed towards the dry land, where a large and bulky lizard-like creature, dripping with water. Nimble’s form lay static and motionless, also soaking wet.

Ronan pointed his snout in the same direction, sniffing the air. “Is she dead?” He asked, giving a slight pause. “...Not that it matters.”

“We’ll just have to go and see,” said Yariel, pushing through all the muck. He climbed out of the water almost effortlessly, roaring in the amphibious creature’s face and effectively scaring it off. It scampered off into the brush, disappearing within the thicket of trees.

The longsnout sniffed the fast biter all over, searching for that distinctive smell that would indicate she was dying. “She’s not dead,” he said as Mila and Ronan reached the limp body, “But she’s pretty close. She’s got some fight left in her.”

“Kill her,” Ronan said without missing a single beat.

Mila looked at the crested sharptooth, a dismayed glint in her eyes. “Ro, what are you doing?”

“Well, Mila...I finally have her where I want her. And I know what to do. I will not miss a second time.”

Mila felt surprisingly less argumentative after he used her own words against her. “Well, yes, but this is not what we were taught. This is wrong, and you know it!”

Ronan disregarded her, motioning with his head for Yariel to kill the fast biter.

Yariel very clearly hesitated, his movements intentionally slow and drawn out. This went against his morals, as well as the morals of any sharptooth raised with ethics and grace. Unfortunately, his friend did not have that luxury.

“Yariel,” Ronan growled, “Are you going to do it or do I have to do it myself?”

Yariel sighed, dipping his head. “I’m sorry, Ro. I can’t do this. Not...not like this.”

Ronan aggressively stomped his foot against the earth, charging towards the unmoving body. He took a moment to stare Yariel down.

Unseen to any of them, the body had begun to stir. The fast biter flared her nostrils, taking in the scents around her.

“If you two are done with your little staring contest,” Mila interjected, “Your fast biter is waking up. I think you just missed your chance, Ro.”

...

The crested sharptooth’s eyes widened as he whipped his head in the direction of the biter, whose limbs were beginning to twitch. Just as he bared his teeth to go in for the kill, the fast biter awoke, and their eyes met.

Nimble’s senses were slowly beginning to come back to her. Where was she ? Was she dead ? It was so dark...but that musty swamp smell was still in the air. There were voices. What was that smell ? Oh. Oh, no. Wake up. Wake up, now!

An electrifying sensation raged throughout her body, and her eyes snapped open, revealing hues of blinding orange. She looked up, and saw those beady yellow eyes she would never forget for as long as she lived.   

It all came back to her. That terrible evening, waking up and finding herself all alone. She scrunched her nose, adrenaline coursing through her as she jumped to her feet, not looking at anyone else but the crested sharptooth. “You...” The sound of her own voice was foreign to her. It had been so long since she’d spoken to anyone apart from the little voice inside her head.

Ronan did not acknowledge her. Rather, he motioned for Mila and Yariel to home in on the wounded fast biter.

Mila produced a low growl as she crouched slightly, her body coiling and recoiling before she leapt into the air, taking a snap at Nimble.

Utilizing the quick reflexes she was born with, Nimble jumped back at the last moment, causing Mila to crash onto the ground, landing on her bent knee. The longsnout roared in pain the moment she felt the vibrations of the earth ricochet off of her teeth.

While the attention of the two others went to the afflicted sharptooth, Nimble took the window of opportunity and disappeared into the thicket of trees, heading northwards, towards the river.

...

Yariel watched her flee, calculating his target’s motives, as he always did. “Ro,” he said firmly.

Ronan looked up.

“I need you to get Mila and yourself to safety. I’ll track the fast biter. She’s headed towards the river, so I’ll meet you there.” He left no room for questions or complaints, as he took off immediately, just barely avoiding being squashed by a tree knocked over by a streak of sky fire. 

The tree caught fire for a brief moment, the crackling flames extinguished as the tree toppled over into the water. Ronan and Mila watched the smoke rise up into the air. Ronan then examined his friend’s knee, which was already beginning to swell. The scales had been scraped off, leaving a circle of red. 

“Do you think you can walk?”

“Well, I won’t know until I try.” Mila grunted, exerting all her strength as she made an attempt to rise. She managed to stand, albeit unsteadily. “See, I’m fine,” she panted, only to wobble and tether a little ways too much towards the right.

Ronan leaned forward and caught her, shaking his head while smiling. “No, you’re not. Come on. You’re not getting far on that leg by yourself.”

Mila repressed a snort as she slowly but surely ambled along. “I’m surprised you aren’t just leaving me here to die, considering I’d just slow you down.”

“Don’t be daft,”  Ronan replied incredulously. “I can’t do that. I need you. Your sniffer is almost as legendary as Chomper’s, after all.” He grinned and patted her face, following the fresh tracks Yariel had left.

...

Indigo’s eyes moved nervously from her brother to her aunt as the two swift biters bickered back and forth in an ongoing cycle. Indigo sat upon a rock underneath the shade  of a tree, holding her chin in her hands. This was all her fault. All of it. She never should have opened her mouth in the first place. What a blithering idiot she was.

“Great job, Blue,” Amina said, hardly bothering to mask the heavy sarcasm lacing her voice. “You know, you could have dropped it when I told you to, but no, you just had to speak your mind.”

“He almost killed Indigo,” Blue shot back, fury in his light blue eyes, “Was I just supposed to sit back and let that happen?”

“No, of course not.” The lilac biter sighed through her nostrils. “But I had it under control without you butting in.”

“You apologized to that bastard!” Blue exclaimed, pointing a finger towards his aunt, “I know you hate him as much as I do, so why do you tolerate him?”

“Because he’s our leader, Blue! And nothing you say or do is going to change that. We have an obligation as members of the pack to respect our leader.”

“What, so you’re going to defend him?” Blue asked incredulously.

“No,” Amina answered defensively, a light frown on her face, “I agree with you— Campion is a horrible person, and the world would probably be better off without him. But unfortunately, he has the power in this pack. He has the power to take away our food, and our freedom, and those we love. And with one word, he can take away our very lives.”

“That’s not what a pack leader is supposed to be! He’s a tyrant is what he is!”

“Yes. He is a tyrant, but unfortunately, all the power is in his claws. And you know he does not take kindly to insubordination. Even your sister knows this.” She gestured to Indigo, who was practically imploding on the inside, “She apologized for her offhanded remark, regardless of how much he deserved it.” She paused, a realization occurring to her. “Speaking of which, why did you leave your sister alone? You know that Campion sees her as an easy target.”

“I went fishing. I didn’t want her to get hurt, so I didn’t take her along.”

“So you left her by herself, defenseless? You didn’t think to wait until I got back? Were the fish that inportant?”

“Yes, it was! Indigo was starving! I couldn’t just let her go on like that!”

“I understand that, but you can’t go running off by yourself without even telling anyone. You put both yourself and Indigo at risk.”

“Well, my mom and dad told me to look after my sister. And I think I was doing a fine job of that back there!”

Amina’s frown transformed into a scowl. “That’s exactly your problem. Just because you’ve reached adulthood, doesn’t mean you’re suddenly capable of doing everything. Don’t forget, I’m still here! You don’t have the slightest idea of what it’s truly like to be on your own.”

“Then why don’t you leave? Nobody’s asking you to stay!”

Amina clenched her jaw, refraining from slapping the living daylights out of him. “Your sister knows her place, it’s time you learned yours.”

“I do know my place.”

Her teeth ground against each other as she took one humongous step forward. “THEN WHY DON’T YOU ACT LIKE IT, BLUE?”

A shuddering gasp escaped the cerulean swift biter as he retracted suddenly, stepping back. He had nothing more to say to Amina, and stared sullenly at the ground.

Indigo could bear it no longer. She stood up, bringing both of her hands to her chest as she stood between them. First, she looked to her brother. “Blue...Amina is right. As terrible as Campion is, he was still our leader. All we could have done was obey his every order. That way, no one gets hurt.”

“I can’t believe you, Indigo,” Blue snarled, “He nearly killed you!”

“I know that, Blue, but it was my fault...I shouldn’t have opened my mouth.”

Blue gave a disgusted sigh as he shook his head, turning away from his sister. It felt as if everyone was against him.

Indigo could not fault him for his reaction. He had always been rather standoffish, especially when angry. She shifted her attention to her aunt. “Amina ? You know it was really my fault...please don’t be so hard on Blue.”

Blue couldn’t help but glance at them from the corner of his eye.

Amina’s expression seemed to soften as she looked forlornly towards the distance. “You both are so much like your parents. Your mother was always so level headed and mysterious at times, kind of like you, Indigo. Your father was more like Blue— strong willed and willing to go to any extent to protect those he loved..” She closed her eyes, letting out a heavy and emotion filled sigh. “I always hoped I would be able to measure up to them, I just...never could.”

Hearing the clear sorrow in her voice made Blue feel remorseful for losing his temper, especially considering how his aunt abandoned any plans for her own life in order to care for them after the death of their parents. Moreover, she had been right when she called him out for his reckless behavior. Despite being an adult, there were so many things that Blue could not do. Perhaps, when he acted so protectively of his little sister, he just wanted to feel like he could be someone worthwhile, someone worthy of looking up to. But when it came down to it, he knew little next to nothing. At last, after a long moment of reflection and pondering, he decided to swallow his pride. With a bit of reluctance in his steps, walked up to Amina, nuzzling her chin. “You already have measured up to them, though. I’m sorry for what I said, Amina. I...I was wrong.”

Indigo, relieved that they were no longer bickering, also joined them. “With you around, we never had to worry about anything. You always made sure we were taken care of. Of course, I already knew that. Blue’s barely figuring it out.” She glanced over at her brother, who was grumbling under his breath.
 
Amina offered the female swift biter a grateful smile, directing her focus towards Blue. She opened her mouth to speak, only to be interrupted by the electrifying crackle of sky fire, creating a gaping chasm in the gloomy gray skies. Just watching it was exhilarating, knowing how much energy was carried in each strike.

Narrowing her eyes, she looked back to see a thick grove of trees ignited by fire. She recognized it as the swamp located near the flood plains. Because of the oxygen rich vegetation, much of the storm’s energy was concentrated on the swamp.

Indigo looked in the same direction, offering a saddened frown at what she saw. She looked at her brother, who didn’t even seem to paying attention. “Um...Blue?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you think the dinosaurs in the swamp will be okay?” Her worried gaze was redirected back to the smoldering swamp, the light of the warm flames reflected in her eyes, “That’s a lot of fire...”

Blue turned to see what she was talking about, immediately turning back around. “Maybe. Maybe not. It doesn’t matter to us, it’s not as if our fate rests on someone living in that place.”

“What a narrow minded thing to say,” Amina remarked, facing away from them, but only for a moment. “Don’t count your hatchlings before they hatch, Blue.”

Blue raised an eyebrow in utter confusion. “What?”

“Nothing,” Amina answered with a shake of her head. “Come on. We have to keep on moving north.”

...

Yariel tore through the vines and branches covering his path as he darted after the fast biter. The sky fire was now attacking the swamp relentlessly, setting trees on fire and burning so many creatures to a crisp. Those who were able to outrun the flames got lucky. Nimble, being both quicker and lighter, had an advantage at her claws. She was able to dodge the obstruction of the vegetation and buzzers zipping about frantically as they tried to escape the raging fire.

In spite of the undeniable truth that Yariel would most likely have to kill her once he caught her, he was highly impressed by the fast biter’s will to live. It was only mere moments ago that she had nearly drowned to death, and here she was, zipping across the swamp floor like a streak of silver. Adrenaline certainly was an amazing thing.

Yariel smiled to himself as he chased after her in huge, powerful strides. He could already foresee the outcome of this hunt. For someone so determined to survive, killing Nimble would be no measly task. He knew that Ronan would not give up until she was either captured or killed. Tracking her down was sure to be interesting. 

...

Nimble forced her way through the vegetation, running out onto a clearing. Alas, she was not the only one who’d managed to make it out of the swamp mostly unscathed. She looked behind her and spotted the longsnout sharptooth. At that very moment, the other two sharpteeth emerged, although one of them was walking with a limp.

Ronan felt the ground underneath his feet, poised to charge. He wasn’t going to let her slip away again. He would not let her get away again. This time. This time for sure.

Nimble gasped softly as her gaze bounced off of each sharptooth. She reflexively took a step backwards, edging closer towards the overflowing river. Above her, the sky fire was striking the swamp with full force. She looked towards the river, the current flowing in turbulent and uncontrollable laps of water. Then, she looked back at her pursuers. If she chose to run on land, the male longsnout would catch up to her without so much as breaking a sweat. But the one place where they couldn’t follow her was the water. Sharpteeth of their size could not swim, but then again, neither could she. Not daring to look behind her, she could both hear and smell the longsnout slowly closing in on her, and she was letting him do so by simply standing there and doing nothing. She had to make a choice, and she had to make it now.

Nimble crouched down, sucking in some air before taking a great leap forwards, making a nosedive for the river. She dove in with a powerful splash, leaving behind a few bubbles on the surface. The bubbles dissipated, and she did not resurface.

...

The trio of sharpteeth sauntered to the river, peering inside. Yariel glanced at Ronan.

“Sorry, Ro,” he said, “But I’m afraid this is a dealbreaker for me. I’m not going in there after her.”

“Oh, she’s as good as dead down there, anyway,” Mila stated, wrinkling her snout.

“No,” said Ronan, “She’ll survive. If she’s survived for this long on her own, a little water won’t do much harm. It certainly won’t be enough to kill her, that’s for sure.”

“Then what do you want to do?”

“Hm...Yariel has a point. None of us can go in there after her, but I don’t think we’ll have to. Sooner or later, she’ll have to come onto land. She can’t stay in the water forever.” He sighed, looking at Mila. “For now…let’s see what we can do about that knee.”

So, they hopped on to the other side. Mila required a bit of assistance crossing over, but she managed to make it. Yariel acted as a crutch  as the pair slowly retreated into the darkness, while Ronan spared a moment to look back at the river. Then, he spoke softly, so softly that no one but himself could hear.

“We’ll meet again.”

...

Nimble had managed to hang onto some rocks attached to the river bank as she held her breath. Her throat burned, and her grip slipped every now and then, but she did not stop. Her eyes watched the surface anxiously, waiting for the trio of sharpteeth to cross onto the other side of the river. When they finally did, and Nimble was sure that they had gone, she exploded out of the water, spreading small droplets everywhere as she emerged, gasping for air.

The river’s current was strong enough that it was beginning to overwhelm her. In order to gain some leverage, Nimble clamped her hand around the branch of a dead sapling, holding on for dear life.

She looked back at the swamp, going up in flames before her eyes. That swamp, as disgusting and humid as it was, was her home. Nimble had lived here her entire life, and now it was gone. Just like that. It almost felt surreal, as if it wasn’t actually happened, and she had just dreamt it up.

Behind her, she could hear a faint creaking noise. She looked to the branch that acted as her lifeline, her eyes widening when she realized it was about to sever itself from the sapling. In a frantic attempt to maintain her hold, she only held on tighter, the force of her hand breaking the old branch.

Oh, no. No! NO! Without anything to keep her afloat, the river’s roaring current overpowered her in an instant. The panicked fast biter flailed desperately, despite her knowing that this would do nothing to help her. And so, the river swiftly carried her along, paying no heed to her will. She would have to go wherever the river took her. Unbeknownst to her, a swimming biter was lurking in the depths as she followed the fast biter, watching...and waiting.

...

The jade colored longtail biter stood on the ledge, her ruby colored snout pointed towards the chilly air. Her bright yellow eyes were fixated on the smoke rising into the sky, only a little ways from the small cave in the mountain where she and her pack resided.

“Crim,” groaned a mint green longtail with vibrant red eyes that could burn a hole in someone’s head, “It’s freezing out there. Come back inside.”

“Just a minute, Ra,” Crim said dismissively, not even sparing a glance towards her yellow snouted friend.

Ra sported a disappointed frown, ignoring her mate, who for the past five minutes, had been trying to get her attention by playfully nipping at her long and slender tail.

The alpha of the pack, whom Crim was rather close with, stuck his head out from the opening of the cave, letting the breeze blow in his face. “What do you think this storm will mean for us, Crim?”

Crim flared her nostrils, taking in a huge whiff of air. Her pupils constricted, the corners of her mouth turning upwards to form a smile. The longtail biter knew very well how these things worked. A climate change of this caliber would force the denizens of the swamp out of their homes. They would be searching for shelter. For high ground. She cast her alpha a glance, a smile still plastered on her face. “...It means our days of starvation are about to come to an end.”


...

Don't you just love cliffhangers? Poor Nimble, she just can't seem to catch a break. I know this chapter might seem a bit complicated and unorganized, but it'll all come together soon. This chapter just sets up the circumstances which bring all of our main characters together. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter, and as always, thank you for reviewing and reading!

[Sovereign]

So another storyline has been opened. The plot is thickening quite quickly and it’ll be interesting to see how Indigo and Blue’s tale will relate to our established characters. Ronan and Yariel’s hunt for Nimble was another aspect I enjoyed and the ending implied there are some new, interesting developments on the way.

I liked Indigo and Blue’s introduction as the siblings seem to have a pretty interesting situation and their relationship was quite well established thus far. Indigo’s fears and Blue’s steadfastness were made clear as were their position in their herd. However, the latter seems to have learned little of the ways of life as he was so eager to become an outcast in an unforgiving land. Campion will probably also have a role in the future and I’ll be interesting to see when he’ll make a return.

As for the two longsnouts, their quest almost came to an end but in the last possible moment, Nimble escaped from their grasp. That scene was quite intense and you did a good job elaborating the chasers’ expectant mood for catching their press and Nimble’s horror for becoming hunted right after rescuing herself from the swamp. Yet, the chase isn’t over yet by any means and it seems like Ronan’s obsession will only end with his or Nimble’s death (if she survives drowning in the stream, that is). The ending brought another pair of sharpteeth into the picture which certainly was a good way to finish this chapter.

This fic is getting quite interesting rather quickly. There are still some parts where the character-building or pacing aren’t quite optimal, like with some of Nimble’s scenes in this chapter, but I still enjoyed this installment quite a lot. I look forward to seeing what’ll happen in the coming chapters.

[rhombus]

The introduction of another set of characters and their storyline is an interesting one in that it presents our established characters with possible allies or competitors in the turmoils that are to come.  The pack dynamics here are interesting, with Blue taking on a protective role for his sister, but the pack leader appearing to have more sinister overtones.  I suppose that the pack's history and dynamics will only become more clear as time goes on.  The final scene with the longsnouts was certainly an intense one, and it leaves the reader with great anticipation of what will befall them now. 

Overall this chapter was an enjoyable read, though it was not without its issues.  The introduction of new characters in the beginning of the chapter was a good call as it allows us to explore a new perspective before revisiting the perspective of established characters, but one must be careful with pacing when counterbalancing separate groups of characters.  I am also guilty of this from time to time in some of my own works.  Overall in this chapter I think the pacing was okay, though some of the longsnout scenes seemed a bit rushed.  This might be something to keep an eye out for in the future.

Overall though this was a good addition to an already engaging story.  I look forward to seeing what befalls these characters in the uncertain times ahead.

[jassy]

                               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! 

[Sovereign]

I quite liked this installment. The various packs have quite interesting situations and characters and they hold a lot of promise for the future. Nimble’s fortunes seem to always be going downhill and Crim, Indigo and Yariel’s groups seem to have nice plotlines already beginning.

The first scene with Nimble is quite intense and it quite effectively captured the horror of her near death. Her next scenes only made her situation seem even worse but it’s quite intriguing that the first chapter seemed to paint her as the sole main character but her role has actually been quite small in the last few installments. It’s not a problem, only something I find interesting. Also, the scenes with Indigo and Blue were written quite well and I quite liked their conversations with each other. However, it seems like their future won’t be an easy one with the coming conflict with the longtails.

Mila’s infection provides an interesting twist to her group’s future as helping her all the way to the Green Haven will certainly be far from easy for her friends but it seems like they’re more than ready to go all the way to save her. However, I’m quite sure it won’t be quite as simple as her companions would wish… Also, Crim’s group was established really well here as their personalities worked quite naturally and the group’s internal relationships seemed quite believable. However, I’m not entirely confident of the Egyptian names as they seem quite out of place for me. Yet, if you can get the legend stuff going, I can see the reasoning in your choice.

All in all, you managed to get the different characters’ stories to begin joining together very well. The pacing certainly was better this time around than in the previous chapters. With the tensions beginning to seriously build up, this story seems to be getting quite intense.

[rhombus]

This was another strong chapter for this deepening tail of drama, loss, and loyalty.  The interwoven plots, though I will admit a bit hard to follow all at once, seem to be coming together rather effectively.  And the pacing, which was an issue in some of the previous chapters, has settled into a nice rhythm in this installment.

Nimble's struggle in the beginning was effectively conveyed, showing us the terror of her situation and her utter despair at her plight.  Her final scene in this story leaves her fate uncertain, and leave me wondering how she will get out of her imminent peril.  I also wonder what role she will play in the growing story as her role at first appeared to be that of primary character to that of a minor one.  However, looks can be deceiving.  I look forward to seeing what role she ends up playing in the chapters ahead.

The focus on how the pack handles Mila's potentially fatal ailment is another interesting twist to this evolving narrative.  The attempts of the one of the pack's own to treat the wound ending in failure was an interesting twist that we do not see in fanfics all that much.  But it goes to show that the instruction to "first, do not harm" is in the Hippocratic Oath for a reason.  The journey to Green Haven is a major undertaking for the group and its leader, who no doubt must also consider the safety of his other packmates in the process.  I do wonder how their journey will turn out in the end.

All in all this was a lovely addition to the story that advances all of the major groups, though Nimble's situation has not been the main focus the last few chapters.  But with things really beginning to develop in the last few chapters I look forward to see where things go from here. 

[jassy]

 Smalljaw = Compsognathus

                              The End of The Line


It was early in the morning when Amina stirred, moistening the dry roof of her mouth with her tongue. The bright circle hadn’t even begun to peek over the mountains, turning them as red as fire. The hue of the sky was faint and muted, the stars and the great night circle having already retired to make way for the dawn. She took in the smells and sounds of the morning through her nostrils and ears; the smell of the morning dew dripping onto the leaves of the trees that surrounded her, the clicking of tiny flyers perched in the branches.

Her frill twitching as her senses helped take in the environment around her, she scrambled to her feet. As she rose, she caught a glimpse of Indigo. The adolescent swift biter was curled up right beside her brother, comfortably snuggling up against his feathers, his arm resting on her back. Her tail was tucked underneath her. Amina knew what it meant— another nightmare, most likely related to Campion. Indigo was often plagued by unpleasant sleep stories, always had been. They became more and more frequent, and Blue soon grew accustomed to being nudged awake by his sister, trembling with fear. Now, whenever Indigo would have another nightmare, she knew that she was always welcome next to Blue, unless he himself was having a nightmare.

Another sigh, albeit a more dejected one, slipped from Amina’s lips as she stared at the adolescents whose care she had been entrusted with. Although they were far out of Campion’s clutches, the scars he left were more permanent, and had yet to scab over.

Best to let them sleep a little longer, Amina thought, mumbling to herself. They had a long and treacherous journey ahead of them, and they would need to be well-rested and well prepared if they were to have even a fraction of a chance at survival. However, her musings were suddenly interrupted by a guttural sounding growl emitting from her stomach. A little breakfast before they left wouldn’t hurt, either. Curling her hands around her abdomen, she began to make her way towards the river, leaving clear, fleshed out footprints in the dirt so she could find her way back.

Walking in a straight line, Amina kept her eyes and ears open, taking in every sound that surrounded her. Amidst the chirping of various airborne creatures, she could hear the rushing of water. She was approaching the river. She walked a little more and stepped out into a clearing, where she could see the river as plain as the light of day. Passing by a tree, she shuffled on forward, a chill traveling up her spine when she felt the cool water pool around her ankles, creating ripples that grew larger and larger until they vanished completely.

It was time to hunt. Amina ducked her head, bringing her snout a mere few inches away from the water. She was so close that when she breathed through her nostrils, the air brushing against the current would cause the faintest of ripples to slowly take form. Through the shallow, green-tinted water, she spotted a streak of shining silver. There you are. She locked onto her target, blocking out anything and everything else. Her prey, unsuspecting of the looming threat, swam right past her ankles. In a flurry of water droplets, Amina clamped her jaw around the swimmer, pulling it from it’s watery sanctuary. The swimmer squirmed in her mouth, it’s body slowly losing moisture. Amina decided she would help the poor thing along, and ground her teeth into it’s scales, crushing it’s organs until there was nothing left to crush. Pleased with her catch, she smirked to herself.

“I always was better at fishing,” she announced, feeling proud and accomplished of her precision and skill. However, her triumphant smile vanished mere moments later. That bravado-filled phrase brought back some very bittersweet memories that she would have preferred not to remember.

For what was probably the third time that morning, a sigh fled from Amina’s mouth. The morning was off to such a lovely start too. It must have been one of those days. The demise of Indigo’s and Blue’s mother and father, still weighed heavily on her mind even after all these years. To her, to Amina, they were more than a mother and father. Their mother had been Amina’s little sister, and their father had been one of her closest friends. All three of them grew up together, and were practically joined at the hip. Even now, there were days where it didn’t feel real, where she still couldn’t believe that they were actually gone.

Pull yourself together, she reprimanded mentally, refocusing her attention on climbing out from the river. As she followed the trail of footprints she left, Amina reminded herself of what really mattered. Stop dwelling on the past. Arella and Sal are gone, and that’s that. Their absence is final. But Blue and Indigo are still here, and I promised I’d look after them...I can only hope that I’m doing it right.


Alpha watched as the radiant orange glow of the steadily rising bright circle peeked over the mountains, illuminating every detail; every rock, every tree, and every slope. It was a beautiful sight, he couldn’t deny that, but he wasn’t here to admire the view.

He pointed his snout up towards the atmosphere, taking in a huge whiff of the air. He closed his eyes, focusing on nothing but the air swirling around him in invisible, transparent waves. Amongst these waves, he could smell the faintest hint of sky water. It had a very distinct smell that he couldn’t quite explain, but he knew it when he smelled it. He sampled another smell. The sky water was still rather distant; it wouldn’t fall until midday. 

On many other occasions, his pack’s senses were tuned finely enough that they could weather they way through any condition, able to use their surroundings to their advantage. However, out here, their biggest advantage were the mountains, and hunting while the slopes were covered in slippery sky water was nothing short of a disaster waiting to happen.

No. He couldn’t risk it. If they bided their time as they usually did during hunts, not only was there an increased likelihood of missing their target, but the slippery slopes would be dangerous and unpredictable. He couldn’t afford to lose any pack members to something that could have been prevented. If they were going to do something, they had to do it now. But, first—

Snap!

The sound of a twig being snapped into two suddenly grabbed his attention. Whirling around, he came face to face with Crim, whose attempt at stealthiness had clearly backfired. Truthfully, she should have known better. Alpha had probably smelled her approaching from several feet away. Trying to sneak up on him was pointless.

Alpha let out a few clicks to greet her, snarling and signaling her to join him at his side. Crim, having assumed a submissive position, perked up and romped forward, leaving small clouds of dust as she heeded his request and stood right beside him. She stood in silence, not daring to speak unless spoken to.

“The sky water has returned,” Alpha finally said. Crim whipped her head towards him, purring softly in a questioning tone. Alpha met her curious gaze. “It’s still a little ways away from here, but we will have to change our plans.”

Crim stared at the fragments of dirt spread out across the surface of the ledge. “Well…what do you want to do?”

“First off, we need to return to the grove of trees and find the swift biters.”

Crim nodded. A sound plan. If the swift biters were sent into panic, they could possibly become separated.

“One of us will charge falsely at them, get them to panic. They mostly eat those little swimmers, and have very little hunting prowess, which is where we have the upper hand.”

Another nod. She and Alpha really did think the same way.

“That will be your task.”

Wait, what? Crim’s eyes widened as she looked at him in disbelief, wide jawed. “Me? Alpha, I can’t—”

“You can, and you will.”

“But I’m not fast or light on my feet like Ra…why don’t you send her? Surely, she’d be a much better candidate for this mission.”

“Because this task does not require strength or speed. If it did, I certainly would have sent Ra and Anu. What it does require, however, is intellect and precision. The swift biters must be kept on their toes until they reach the mountains.” He dipped his head and nuzzled her chin, “You’re a very bright girl, Crim, and I couldn’t be more proud of who you’ve become. But now, you must make me even prouder, and show just what exactly you’re made of. Think of it as your opportunity to shine.”

Despite Alpha’s words of encouragement, Crim felt scared, unconfident. Alpha noticed her retreating further into herself. Not only did she require encouragement, but she also needed to see the reality of things.

“Crim,” he began, a firm edge to his voice, “I know you’re scared, but you must understand how things are. If we miss this opportunity, if we let this chance that has fallen right into our claws go, we may not get another one. Tell me, do you think the others will be willing to wait even longer than they already have for a decent meal? It would only be a matter of time before the hunger madness gets to them. You know that, don’t you?”

Crim gulped, feeling her pulse quicken. It almost felt like Alpha was scolding her. She didn’t like it, but she knew it was the truth. Every word he uttered was true. She knew what she had to do, but one thought still lingered— could she actually pull it off, or would she give herself an early sendoff to the Great Beyond?


Mila was in a world of complete bliss. There was no pain, nor was there any joy. If she could describe it using a single word, ‘nothing’ would be her choice. There was nothing to feel, nothing to see, nothing to hear or touch. Until now.

She awoke to someone nudging her in the side. Her body moved slightly, but she did not stir. Mila decided she would feign oblivion and hope that whoever it was would simply give up and leave her be. Much to her dismay, they remained by her side and continued trying to shove her awake, even as she held her ground and refused to budge.

The longsnout groaned, barking softly as she flared her nostrils, hoping that her sniffer could give her some clue as to who it was. After all, she relied more on her sense of smell than she did her own eyes. She caught a whiff of the familiar odor, her blood turning cold for an instant. Ronan. Of course. It could never have been anyone else. Only he would be bold enough to get on her very last nerve and push her limits, all while being inches away from her mouth.

Ronan didn’t care how much she growled and barked at him. He wanted her to snap at him. He knew that somewhere inside of her she had the will to rise and move. She wasn’t the type to just give in to a wound; she was stronger than that. Much stronger. If he could get her angry enough, with a little bit of teasing and insults on the side, he might be able to get her onto her feet. Maybe. He’d be lucky if he didn’t end up getting his face bitten off in the process. As if her advanced highly sensitive sniffer wasn’t enough, she had also been equipped with a lethal pair of jaws that could trap any creature unfortunate enough to get within range. And if he did happen to get his face gnawed off, well, he’d get some pretty good mileage against her. He’d never let her live it down.

Well, here went nothing. He dipped his head, practically ramming his snout into her side. “Get up, you lazy sack of guts.”

“Go away,” she snarled, eyes still clamped tightly shut. She wasn’t going to give in to his demands. He’d give up sooner or later.

“Not until you get up,” Ronan retorted, narrowing his eyes. If she could play the waiting game, so could he.

Mila once again disregarded him, shifting her weight as much as her injury would permit, so that she was now facing away from the crested sharptooth. As she turned, she could clearly hear his indignant scoff.

It was amazing how this girl managed to get on his every nerve. He didn’t even know it was possible for someone to be this infuriating, this stubborn and close minded. Clenching his jaw, he gave a determined snort. She was going to get up, whether she wanted to or not. Leaning forward, Ronan closed his teeth around her tail, and bit down with all his might.

“OW!”

Mila roared in pain as she leapt to her feet, in a hot, stinging world of pain and rage. With another roar and a great leap forward, the angered longsnout moved her tail in a powerful whiplike motion—

THWACK!

Ow. That hurt. A lot. As soon as Ronan felt the sting of her tail making contact with her face, he had to repress the nearly irresistible urge to pounce his ‘friend’. Still wincing from the pain, he took a moment or two to open his eyes. When he finally did open them, he advanced towards her in large, heavy strides, too furious the notice the foundation of the ledge slowly crumbling beneath them.

Then came the crack. Ronan froze in place, both his and Mila’s eyes falling towards the earth upon which they stood. Before Ronan could even think, before Mila could even act, the ledge gave way and they both came tumbling down. They skidded across the dirt, the combined weight of both their bodies causing the ground to rumble as they barreled straight towards an unsuspecting Yariel.

Yariel had been sound asleep, his back turned towards the opening of the cave built by the natural movement of earth and other particles. He was a sound sleeper, able to slumber peacefully through all the noise and commotion. At first, the racket was nothing to him but a minor nuisance, something that would die down soon. A few moments passed, and it didn’t die down. If anything, it had only grown louder.

“Urgh...” Yariel, having been roused from his sleep by the raucous noise, swiveled his head in the opposite direction. Now to find out what in the world was making that horrendous noise—

CRASH!

“Oof!” Yariel found himself crashing into the wall, smushed up against the bodies of his friends. The pressure of their weight was on him, constricting his blood flow and threatening to crush him— at least, that was what it felt like. His usual composure had vanished, and he rushed into a panic.

“Mmf! Mila! Ronan! Get off—!” His voice muffled by the wall his face was currently being pressed against, he repeatedly smashed his tail against the earth in a desperate attempt to get their attention.

Mila and Ronan both began to rise, although Mila’s attempt was more sloppy and took more than a few tries to get right, and even then, she had a hard time remaining upright. Then, pretending as if they hadn’t just crashed into poor Yariel, the two sharpteeth were back at each other’s throats.

“What is wrong with you?!” Mila exploded, her injured foot barely touching the ground lest her wound caused her more pain.

“What’s wrong with me?” Ronan stared back at her, indignant. “What’s wrong with you? You’re the one who wouldn’t get up when I told you to, and you attacked me with your tail!”

She could not believe the sheer audacity of this...this...she didn’t even have the words to describe it. Sometimes, she was embarrassed to be friends with him. “News flash, jerkface,” she barked, not caring one bit that she was getting in his personal space, “I’m injured, but that won’t stop me from beating the crap out of you!”

Ronan quirked a brow. He knew how this would end, but it was simply too good of an opportunity to pass up. “So you can fight then?”

Mila was visibly confused. “What?” She questioned, giving a tilt of her head while wrinkling her brow, “What are you going on about now?”

The corners of Ronan’s mouth turned upwards into a sly grin as he motioned towards himself with his hand, as if telling Mila to hit him with everything she had. Oh, how he loved messing with her.

Mila looked less than impressed. Was he really challenging her, knowing fully well that she could punt him halfway across the mysterious beyond? Fine. Challenge accepted; he’d only regret it later. She flexed her tail, preparing to swing at him—

“Would you two quit it?”

Yariel had come between them, using his hands to keep them from massacring each other. He glanced at Ronan, and then at Mila, issuing her a warning glare. When she only leaned in closer, Yariel had to push her back while his glare intensified.

“I’m just defending myself,” Mila snapped, “He’s the one who tried to have my tail for breakfast!” She pointed an accusing claw towards Ronan.

“I don’t care,” Yariel emphasized, “We don’t have time for this.” His eyes suddenly landed upon her knee, where her wound was filled with more grit, the wound that he’d exacerbated. Sighing softly, he tried to brush off the wave of sudden guilt. “We need to get moving.” Once again, he cast both of them a glance. “Do you two think you can get along without trying to murder each other? Just for a little bit?”

Mila and Ronan each met the other’s gaze, each giving an affirmative growl. However, it was clear in their eyes that they still wanted to kill each other. Naturally.


The pair of smalljaws cautiously wandered through the brush, their sensitive little ears taking in the setting of the early morning. To them, the noises they heard were amplified ten fold as opposed to the noises that an average sized creature heard, but they had learned to live with their unique senses. The male, the darker of the two green dinosaurs, lifted his snout and pointed it towards the canopy of trees. His hazel eyes were wide, his pupil darting back and forth as he surveyed his surroundings.

The female, a lighter and more verdant hue of green, moved quietly through the foliage. She peeked her head in between the blades sprouting from a patch of grass, sniffing the ground in the off chance that her eyes turned out to be deceiving her. She saw nothing, but perhaps, she just needed to scan the area once more. Maybe, there was something she was missing. Again, she searched. Her search yielded no results and she returned to her mate, dejected and empty handed.

No words were required for him to understand the bitter truth of their situation. His mate’s body language, her despondent expression, and even the way she smelled, all pointed towards the fact that their search was, once again, been in vain. He refused to believe that it would remain that way, however.

“Please don’t despair, Arai,” the male crooned, nudging the female gently with his snout, “We’ll find them eventually. I promise you we will.”

She didn’t quite respond at first, but appreciated his optimism. Sena, her mate, was somehow always able to snuff out the positives in each situation, no matter how hopeless they seemed. Which was why she had to wonder how he had fallen for a pessimist such as herself. “I know that, Sena. I’m just worried that we won’t be able to find them before something else does. Or…before something finds us.”

“Well, I can tell you that nothing’s found them yet.” Sena briefly sniffed the air, “I can still smell them, although it is a bit faint...but they’re not dead. I know that for certain.” He then nudged her again, a little bit more playfully this time. “And nothing will happen to us either.”

“Shh!” Arai ducked, pupils constricting, “Don’t say that! If you say it like that, it might actually happen! Don’t count your hatchlings before they hatch.”

“What?” Sena chortled, raiding a brow, “You’ve been sitting out here too long without food, dear.” Although, he did have to admit that the saying made sense…it still sounded ridiculous though. “Now, come on. We should get moving.”

Just as the pair began moving forward, a piercing screech, like claws scraping against the bark of a tree, sounded through the air. Without even giving the smalljaws a chance to register the sound, a small flyer swooped down and in a flurry of flapping wings and a cloud of dust, snatched Arai up into it’s sharp talons.

As quickly as it happened, Sena felt something snap inside of him as he saw his mate being carried off. Everyone had a breaking point, even someone as patient as Sena, and for him, this was it. He flexed his legs, preparing to make a humongous leap into the air.

I’m not losing anyone else out here! With a huge grunt of effort, he grabbed his mate’s tail and pulled her towards the ground, while the flyer resisted and tried to fly off with his intended meal still in tow. Sena wasn’t having it. With another powerful tug, and with the flyer’s continued efforts, the creature was stretched too thin and plummeted towards the floor, landing within another bush halfway across the grove with a sickening crunch and a thud.

Arai, finally safe on the ground, took a moment to recover from the shock. Her mate looked at her, and offered her a sheepish chuckle. “On second thought…perhaps we should stay here. It might make it easier for them to find us.”

Arai huffed and sat herself down on a patch of dirt. “Go figure.”


The tiny smalljaw cautiously approached the limp flyer lying at her feet, growling softly for her two younger siblings to stay back until she made sure this flyer was dead…unless he was alive. But that probably wasn’t the case. The flyer’s leg had been snapped in half and then shattered with the impact of the rough landing, tearing his delicate wing membranes in the process.

Although, it wouldn’t hurt to make sure. Even if he was still alive, he wouldn’t live for much longer. With his legs and wings destroyed, he would never fly again. The little smalljaw walked forward, nudging the body with her snout, listening to the sound of the flyer’s shallow breathing. Then, without hesitating, she dug her teeth further and further into his throat until the breathing ceased. The flyer never even stood a chance.

Pleased with her handiwork, she purred happily, jumping happily up and down. She turned to her siblings. “Come on over here, you two. I just got us some breakfast.”

Her younger sister slowly edged forward towards the carcass, her steps showing caution and uncertainty. Despite her lacking sense of smell, even she could sense that this flyer hadn’t bathed in days. “But, Cori, it smells...weird.”

“Says the one without an actual sense of smell,” retorted her brother, who walked up to the dead flyer and gave it a rough kick with his foot, snickering to himself at his own joke.  His amusement didn’t last long, however, for Cori promptly walked up behind him and delivered a tight slap to the back of his head with the tip of her tail.

“Ow!” He exclaimed, his hands flying to the back of his head, now stinging with pain. “What? What did I do?”

“You know what you did, Mako,” Cori replied, her hands on her hips, “Don’t play dumb with me.” She turned away and walked towards her sister, gently nuzzling her, “Don’t feel bad, Dena. Mako’s just an idiot sometimes. You know that.”

Dena merely nodded in response, but when her older sister wasn’t looking, she turned towards her brother and stuck her tongue out at him.

Mako scoffed indignantly, letting out a curt huff before digging into his meal, refusing to look at either of his sisters as he stuffed his face with food. Then, not a moment too soon, before his sisters could even take a bite out of their share, a loud, elongated moan made Mako freeze in his tracks.

“What in the name of the great beyond was that?” He whispered, “It sounds like a spiketail passing gas.”

Cori rolled her eyes and shook her head. This was one of those times when she couldn’t believe they were actually related.

“It sounds like another creature,” Dena said in a meek voice, “And it sounds like they’re hurting...”

Mako yanked a shred of meat off of the carcass and into his mouth, his face seemingly fixated into a permanent scowl. “Who cares?”

“What do we do...?”

“Nothing.”

Cori furrowed her brows. “We should go take a look. If they are hurt and we help them, they might be inclined to help us!”

“Or they might want to kill us,” Mako said flatly.

“Do you always have to be so negative?” Cori couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow.

“Yeah...I got it from mom.”

Cori gave another disapproving shake of her head. “Come on, let’s check it out. Just make sure you keep your voices down, and no sudden movements.”

Dena followed her sister while Mako murmured something indiscernible under his breath before picking up the dead flyer with his teeth, dragging it along as he trailed after his sisters. The three smalljaws then passed through the bush of slender, green ferns, entering a clearing where they found the source of the mysterious noise— an injured, heavily malnourished, and barely conscious fast biter.


The two female longtails, masked in the cover of the foliage, stalked their way through the brush, watching every move their intended prey made; their expressions, how they felt, what they were doing at that very moment— all these things could help the pair of predators gain the upper hand over their targets. But even then, it usually worked better in a group, as opposed to a pair. In a group, each individual pack member could focus on their specific duty. Still, orders were orders.

Crim and Hathor crouched down near a bush of overgrown ferns, watching as one of the swift biters, a cerulean colored male, steadily began to awake. He then glanced over at the tiny female sleeping by his side.

Hathor narrowed her eyes as she crouched further down, trying to avoid being seen. “You know, Crim, I usually don’t second guess Alpha’s decisions, but…” A sigh. “This would be much more efficient if the rest of the pack were here. It’s too risky with just the two of us— explain to me again, why did Alpha think this would be a good idea?”

“Tell me about it,” Crim murmured, grinding her claws into the dirt as a way of maintaining her posture and of muffling her footsteps.

“If something happens to either one of us then the other is in danger,” Hathor continued, letting out another sigh, albeit a more frustrated one, “There are times where I feel I’ll never truly understand him or what goes on through that head of his. This is one of those times.”

Crim could not help herself, and let out a chuckle. She had to agree with that sentiment. Despite living with Alpha for years, he was still somewhat of an enigma to her. There was so much about him she didn’t know, and probably never would.


Amina quietly made her way back to the small clearing where Blue and Indigo were already beginning to stir. Blue was already wide awake, scratching an irritated area underneath his arms with his snout. Indigo, on the other hand, was barely coming to.

“Mm...” The young swift biter groaned softly, lifting her head. It was difficult for her to get rid of the darkness that covered her field of vision at first, but after giving her eyes a moment to adjust, they subsequently flicked open.

“Good morning, Indigo,” Amina said, dropping the fish in front of the two swift biters, “Did you have any interesting sleep stories last night?”

Indigo’s eyes widened, her pupils darting frantically back and forth. Had she woken up screaming again? She wouldn’t be surprised if she had; she wasn’t exactly the heaviest sleeper. Not to mention the fact that it had happened before, several times.

Amina took note of Indigo’s discomfort and dropped the subject. “Never mind,” she cooed, nudging her, “It’s not important. All that matters is that you’re safe and sound.”

Indigo eased up, a smile weaving itself onto her features. Amina’s presence had always been a comforting one in her life. No matter how angry she would get, she always forwent her own comfort for the sake of Indigo and Blue, even when she and Blue were at odds with each other. It was because of her that they were even still alive. For that, Indigo would never be able to repay her.

As she tried to swallow a lump of saliva, Indigo realized how dry her mouth was. Licking her lips, she pulled away from Amina. “I need a drink...”

“There’s some water over there,” Amina said, watching her and gesturing towards what was a small pond that closely resembled a large puddle. As her niece’s gaze followed her own, she continued, “I don’t want you going all the way to the river, as we should all be sticking close to each other. Blue, you keep an eye on her.”

Indigo frowned slightly. “Amina, I don’t—”

Amina did not say anything, but simply glared at Indigo in such a way that she shut up immediately. Then, Amina looked expectantly towards Blue.

Blue had been rather quiet all morning, most likely having had his fair share of protesting against orders. Craning his head towards Amina, he offered her a silent nod of his head before fixating his attention on his little sister, now wandering towards the pond.


Hathor cautiously watched the swift biters, her attention focused towards the pair of adolescents a little ways apart from their guardian. These two were the initial targets; this mock charge would be directed towards them, namely the female. It was no challenge for Hathor to see that she was weak, vulnerable, defenseless. At least, on her own.

Her eyes traveled towards the slightly older male, maintaining his careful vigil over his younger sister. Or perhaps it was his daughter whom he was caring for after the loss of his mate, hence his obvious protectiveness over her. Hathor didn’t know, nor did she care to find out. All that mattered was that this pack had a vulnerable young one to protect.

After sizing up her prey, Crim looked over at Hathor, whose gaze also remained on the young female. However, she could tell that although they were thinking about the same thing, they were not thinking about it in the same manner. Crim’s musings were filled with simply charging and going in for the kill, ripping the defenseless swift biter apart. Hathor seemed to be thinking in a more analytical way, trying to plan out her attack in her head.

“I know what you’re thinking, Crim,” she finally said in a low voice, “But we can’t simply run in and kill them. It won’t work like that.”

Crim was surprised that Hathor seemed to be able to read her mind, but her surprise was rather brief. She then turned away, even if a bit awkwardly.

“This is exactly why it’s more of a challenge to hunt down other sharpteeth, rather than those flat toothed sapsuckers. Sharptooth family units are more intricate and organized, and when they have a young one they want to protect, they will go to any length to ensure that young one’s safety.” There was a brief pause, “They will kill us if they need to, and we don’t have any say in that matter. If they feel threatened, they will attack.”

Crim nodded along, not really paying much attention to the wisdom being imparted. That wasn’t to imply she wasn’t trying to listen, but she was so preoccupied with watching the juvenile swift biter that her mind simply blocked out whatever it was that Hathor was saying. She would catch a word or two, but that was about as much as her mind would register. Everything else faded out into the background.

Hathor was not stupid. She already knew that Crim hadn’t listened to a word she said, and she wasn’t about to go and repeat herself. Rolling her eyes and shaking her head, she too centered all her attention on their targets. As she shifted slightly, Hathor accidentally stepped on a twig, snapping it in half.

Oh, no. She quickly froze where she stood, the only sound escaping her being that of her gentle breathing. Crim glanced at her, confused, but Hathor gave her a warning growl that told her to keep her eyes on the prey. Still confused, Crim did exactly that. She turned, and found one of the swift biters staring straight ahead, right at the bushes in which they lay hidden.


Blue’s gaze never left his sister as he watched her relieve herself of her thirst, sipping the water as if she hadn’t anything like it for days on end. Come to think of it, this probably was her first actual drink in days. When they were with the pack, they were allowed no more than two sips. If they exceeded that limit, they would be severely punished. Needless to say, he was glad to see her drinking to her heart’s content.

Upon seeing her so happy, every ounce of his previous frustration dissipated. All that worry and stress, the arguing because of their hunger, because how far they were from the home to which they could never return…none of that was important right now. He realized that. The only thing that mattered was that they were still here.

Suddenly, the sound of something snapping— he wasn’t sure what— caught his attention. He followed his sniffer and his ears all the way to the fern bushes, his frill twitching. His pupils constricted, he stared and stared. There was something in those bushes, and whatever it was certainly had an effective way of camouflaging themselves.


The longtail pair looked right at the cerulean biter, their piercing eyes boring right through his own. He was staring right at them too, although he didn’t know it yet. Hopefully, it would remain that way, and he wouldn’t know what hit him. After all, one of the primary elements that longtails relied on during their hunts was the element of surprise.

“He’s staring right at us,” Crim whispered, not daring to move a muscle as her gaze bounced off of Hathor.

“He knows that there’s something watching him,” Hathor replied in an even lower whisper, “He just doesn’t know what. Don’t move, and don’t make a sound.”

“But what if we miss our chance? What if he takes that young biter back to where it’s safe, with the adult?” Crim was beginning to panic. She didn’t want to disappoint Alpha. She couldn’t. Incompetence would not be tolerated.

“We won’t.” Hathor’s calm voice kept Crim grounded and brought her back to reality. “As long as we can see him and he can’t see us, we’ll have the higher ground. Just do as I say, and all will go as planned.”


Focus, focus, focus. That was all that was on Blue’s mind right now. He wasn’t even paying attention to Indigo anymore, his attention completely occupied with finding out what was in those bushes. It was possible it was just some small forest creature, but his instinct told him otherwise, and he always trusted his instinct.

Finally, Indigo couldn’t help but notice that her brother’s attention was…well, somewhere else. She had called his name twice, with no response. She whirled around to find him staring at a bush, his eyes seemingly stuck in some sort of permanent alarmed glare.

“Blue?” She peered over his shoulder, curious to see what had his attention, “What is it? Do you see—”

“Shh,” Blue interrupted, “There’s something in the bush. I can’t see what, but I know something is there. It’s blending in quite well...”

He narrowed his eyes, trying to close in on the space within the bushes. Secretly, he hoped that he was wrong. He hoped that this was just a trick of the light, that there was nothing watching him, just waiting to strike.

After watching Amina lie down to get some a few moments of sleep, Indigo walked up next to her brother, mimicking his position and peering into the ferns. She could see a hint of gleaming yellow through the shade of the leaves. She couldn’t help but wonder what that was about. She edged forward, looking closer still. Then, she froze.

Blue had seen that petrified face before. He knew it well. Too well, unfortunately. “What is it? What do you see?”

Indigo remained as she was, frozen in fear as she answered, “Longtails.”


Crim’s heart began pumping ice throughout her body as her sniffer picked up the panicked scent of the female biter. The scent, it was close. A bit too close for comfort. And somehow, Hathor knew what was on Crim’s mind.

“Crim, stay down,” she warned, the slightest bit of panic in her voice.

Crim looked at her, and then at the swift biters. What was she supposed to do? She wasn’t a hunter, that wasn’t her area of expertise! She never should have agreed to this, it was all wrong— so wrong—

Hathor sensed the young longtail rushing into a blind panic, and firmly began to reign her in. “Crim. Crim, listen to me. Just do as I say— CRIM!”

With a flurry of green and a faint rustle, their cover was blown. Worse still, Crim was now charging right towards the swift biters.


“Blue, look out!” Indigo yelled as the lightly built predator used her lightning fast reflexes to burst from out of the bushes and into the air with a tremendous leap. Blue was quick, but even he only had time to duck his head. However, he wasn’t the one that the longtail was after.

The quick little predator zoomed right past Blue, using her long, whiplike tail to maneuver her weight across the dirt. In that moment, Blue suddenly realized why these dinosaurs were called longtails. The name was certainly an apt one.

He shook his head. What was he thinking? Letting out a growl, he swatted at the biter with his tail, missing her by a landslide. The longtail once again bested him and arced into the air, landing right on top of Indigo.

Indigo visibly tensed, her muscles clenching as the longtail biter dug her claws into her back. Faintly, in the background, she could hear Blue’s panicked screech. And yet, she couldn’t bring herself to really care about how frightened he sounded. All she could think about was the fact that this was how she would meet her end. She always knew this day would come, but she couldn’t believe it was already here…

“Amina!” Blue roared, his feathers pointing upwards as he assumed a defensive stance. He could see Amina beginning to stir, but was interrupted by an angry, deafening screech sounding through the air. He swiveled his head towards the source of the raucous noise, and spotted another longtail jumping out from the bushes.

Another one? You’ve got to be kidding me. We don’t even hunt other dinosaurs! Blue let out an exasperated sigh through his growls, hunching over as he poised himself for attack. The longtail simply stood there, conflicted, maybe even confused. It was almost as if she didn’t want to fight, but she still wanted to kill him.

There was suddenly a loud thud. Both the longtail and Blue looked over just in time to see Indigo throw the other longtail off of her back. Had she been on the back of a larger dinosaur, The young longtail might not have been so lucky. Blue then looked up and noticed the cuts from the longtail’s claws, permanently embedded in his younger sister’s scales. Never mind not hunting other dinosaurs, he thought. Snarling, he brought his snout inches away from that of the longtail’s, glaring at her in a way that told her she would regret laying a claw on his sister.

The other longtail stepped in between them, baring her teeth. This time she did not look confused. She stood tall on her own two feet, ducking her head to make it easier to reach Blue’s throat. She fully intended to fight him, and she fully intended to kill him.

Amina swept in, arriving right in the nick of time. It was becoming a bit of a habit, really. Hissing, she tackled the longtail to the ground, whose nimbleness and agility failed her in that moment. She fought and struggled as she tumbled across the earth, moments before a burning, white hot pain ripped through her abdomen.

Amina stepped back, her right sickle claw soaked in blood. The younger longtail emitted a guttural sounding cry, one of complete, unhinged anguish. Amina winced, but did not look back. Both Indigo and Blue remained where they stood, faces frozen in shock until Amina ushered them forward.

“Go, go!” She panted, pushing them along with her snout, “The other one won’t be far behind us. Come on, move it!” She would not have their protests, nor would she hear what they had to say. Right now, nothing else mattered apart from staying alive and getting as far away as possible. “Don’t stop moving,” she barked when Indigo began to lag, “...Don’t stop moving.”


Crim watched with disdain and hatred as the small pack of swift biters fled, heading skyward— right towards the mountains. As a youngling, she never quite understood the need for revenge or to even the score. She never understood it…until it happened to her. The anger, the pain she felt, there wasn’t a force in the world that matched it. She would kill them. She would kill those dirty, swimmer munching swift biters if it was the last thing she did. But, for now, there was something more important that required her attention.

She followed a faint growl to where Hathor’s broken body lay, a gaping wound in her abdomen. She knew something had happened to her, but seeing the damage that had been done, Crim knew that they had woefully underestimated their prey.

Hathor’s left arm lay limp and pale, but the other was worse. Her body had been crushed by the adult swift biter’s weight, and a bone now protruded from her shoulder, leaving her arm bent and twisted in a way that just looked wrong. Worst of all was the wound inflicted upon her stomach, revealing the tissue underneath her skin, blood flowing freely from the open gash. She was barely breathing, her eyes clamped tightly shut because of the pain.

Crim crouched down beside her, producing a soft, desperate whimper as she tenderly nuzzled Hathor’s snout. She’d never felt so lost, not even as a hatchling. Hathor managed to open her eyes at least halfway, just enough to look at Crim.

“...told you...didn’t listen...” Hathor’s broken attempt to speak was pitiful. Several fragments of her sentence were lost, muffled by her groans and raspy breathing.

Crim nuzzled her again, offering a low, pleading growl. She pleaded with Hathor to get back up again, that if she could just wait and hold on, she could go and fetch Alpha, who would bring her home.

Hathor replied with the negative, giving a few soft clicks that told Crim she knew how this would end, and that was only one thing she could do now. One simple act of mercy.

Crim shook her head as she stepped back, refusing to do it. She couldn’t, she simply couldn’t. Alpha would never forgive her. Her pack mates would never forgive her. How could she do something so heinous to one of her own? Shaking, she met Hathor’s tired gaze. The way she looked at Crim said a million words— no—  it only said one.

“Please...” Hathor croaked, a wet sound accompanying her respiration as a storm of hazy thoughts ran through her head at once. Please just make the pain stop. Please be careful. Please take care of the others. Please don’t carry this guilt for the rest of your life. Please, help me—

Crim knew what she had to do, no matter how hard it would be. This was the least she could do, if nothing else. Although she’d rather not do this at all, Crim felt it might have been more fitting for Alpha, Hathor’s own mate to grant her passage to the Great Beyond. It pained Crim to think of what he’d go through.

No, she warned herself. Don’t think about Alpha right now. Hathor. Hathor needs you. She directed a growl to the fallen longtail in question, making sure that Hathor was fully aware of what she intended to do. Hathor growled in response; it was clear. They were both in agreement.

Crim opened her mouth, latching her jaws around Hathor’s neck. Then, with a sickening twist and a snap, the convulsing body of Hathor went limp and the light in her eyes dulled out to nothing. Crim then took another step backwards.

Hathor was dead. She was dead, and she was never coming back. Crim never quite realized how painful the loss of a pack member was until she went through it herself. No longer would they hear Hathor’s wise words, or her gentle laugh. The only thing they had now were memories and even now, Crim knew it would never be enough.

She turned around, facing the direction in which the swift biters had fled. Bringing her snout close to the earth, Crim allowed several different scents to bombard her sniffer until she found it— The scent of the biter responsible for Hathor’s demise. There was a vibrant light in her eyes, mad and destructive like fire. She snarled and took off, leaving behind a cloud of dirt and dust. The chase was on.


CRASH!

The three sharpteeth collectively groaned as they tumbled into a heap at the foot of the mountain…where they had first started. A few fragments of rock came lose from above, falling on top of the prone dinosaurs.

Yariel was the first to slowly rise onto his feet, shaking the dust off of his back and tail. “...This isn’t going to work.”

“Did you figure that out on your own?” Mila asked sarcastically, a fierce edge to her voice as she struggled to gain leverage, despite Ronan helping her.

The male longsnout narrowed his eyes, but he showed no clear signs of the anger and frustration ripping through him. Rather than create an argument by responding to her retort, he remained silent, waiting for her to regain her footing.

“Come on, Mila,” Ronan growled, trying to usher her to her feet, “What good are those muscles of yours if you can’t even use them to lift yourself up?”

Mila glanced briefly at her biceps before groaning in pain, yet again falling to the ground. “I don’t know how you expect to pull this off,” she barked through her labored moans, “I don’t even think these ledges are big enough for the three of us. I’m surprised we haven’t caused an rockslide yet.”

Yariel walked over, taking a moment to examine the structure of the mountain. She had a point; it was surprising— and miraculous— that the three of them had yet to cause an avalanche. But they simply couldn’t afford to wait until they did. He turned back around towards Ronan, who had finally helped Mila into an upright position.

“I’m afraid we’ll need to split up,” he said calmly, bracing himself for the backlash he knew would befall him.

Mila stared at him for a long time, bewildered. “Have you been sipping that nasty swamp water again?”

Yariel rolled his eyes, and looked to Ronan to back up his proposition, but even he was looking at the longsnout as if he had gone insane. Apparently, he would have to break it down for them. “Look, there is no way all three of us will be able to climb onto one ledge at once, not to mention we’ve all seen how well that worked out. My plan is to go ahead of you two and wait, so Mila can move at her own pace without exerting herself.”

“Let her move at her own pace?” Ronan let out a scoff, the corners of his mouth turning upwards to form a smirk. “We’d be here for days.”

Mila growled and narrowed her eyes, raising her tail as a warning to Ronan not to test her patience, which was quickly running thin.

“So be it,” Yariel replied dismissively, “All that matters is that we keep on moving. It doesn’t matter how fast we go, as long as we don’t stop.”

Yariel made it clear that he was having absolutely no nonsense, and Ronan received the memo. Along with a nod, he also offered a tilt of his head. “In that case, where exactly should we meet up with you? Surely, you don’t expect us to walk for days until we bump into you?”

“Of course not.” Once again, Yariel looked towards the sky. Just beyond where the ominous looking clouds circled the fading sunlight, a towering mountain stood strong and tall, kissing the gloomy skies. He then turned back to his friends. “You see that mountain? That really tall one sort of blocking out the bright circle?”

Ronan and Mila both looked up towards the sky and nodded affirmatively. Mila certainly didn’t seem enthusiastic about it, though.

“You want us to walk all the way over there?” Mila gestured towards the mountain with her head as she offered the other longsnout a look of disbelief. “Yariel, I can barely stand!”

“I know, Mila.” Yariel’s cold green eyes briefly flashed with a glint of sympathy, “I know it hurts you to stand, let alone walk, but it’ll hurt even more if we put this journey off.”

“Then just leave me here,” she snapped, “I’ll only slow you down, and I doubt you want a cripple to tag along with you.”

“Don’t talk rot,” Ronan countered, giving her a playful whack with his tail, “You’re more use to us alive than dead, and I need my tracker to be alive and well, even if you are handicapped.” He let out a snort, “Now cheer up and stop complaining. We have to get you to a healer.”

“Ro is right,” Yariel continued, “If anything, we’d have a harder time without you. It will all be worth it in the end, so for all of our sakes, I need you to endure the pain for a little while longer. Alright?”

“Easy for you to say,” Mila grumbled under her breath, ignoring the warning glare that Yariel gave her. She didn’t care. He wasn’t the crippled one being forced to make a dangerous trek across the mountains.

Yariel knew that nothing could be done when she was like this. For as long as he had known her, Mila had always overshadowed him when it came to brute strength, but there came times when she would burn herself out and sustain an injury. She was always so miserable when it happened. Hence, he did not acknowledge her snarky comments.

“Anyway,” he resumed, “I’ll meet you both there once the bright circle is in the middle of the sky.”

“Is that really such a good idea?” Ronan inquired, eyeing the dark clouds looming overhead, “It looks like we’re due for some sky water...again.”

Yariel looked up, and saw that Ronan was indeed correct. He knew what those thick, gray clouds that stretched across the sky meant. Sky water— and lots of it. Just once, he’d like to have his plans not be disrupted by irregular weather patterns. “Hm. I suppose you’re right. In that case...we’ll just give each other a roar when we arrive. If I arrive before you, I will roar back. If you arrive before me, you’ll roar back. I assume that’s simple enough.”

Mila let out a contemptuous snort as she leaned against Ronan for support, “I mean...it’s not like we have a choice.”

Ronan smirked, eyeing the female longsnout as he gently nipped her with his tail again. “I guess we’re stuck with each other, Mimi.”

Mila nearly choked on her own saliva when he used Yariel’s nickname for her. He certainly had some nerve. Gritting her teeth, she managed a flat, unexcited response. “Hooray.”


“Is it dead?”

“I don’t know…it’s body is twitching.”

“So… it’s dying.” 

“Well, not necessarily…if it’s twitching, doesn’t that mean it’s alive?”

“What if it’s alive, but it’s just playing dead? Or what if it’s coming back from the dead?”

“Ugh…I can’t believe I have to share a nest with you two.”

Nimble recoiled suddenly as the smell of dead meat bombarded her nostrils, and wrinkled a brow when she could hear the chattering of indistinct voices. She felt cold. So, so cold. But wait—  she was always cold. Well, she felt colder than usual. The roof of her mouth felt dry, even as she ran her saliva coated tongue across the tissue. It was dark— why was it so dark? Had she gone blind?

As Nimble opened her eyes, the voices died down into hushed whispers. The fast biter blinked once. Thankfully, she wasn’t blind, but she was surprised to find that she was still alive. After that thieving longtail had stolen her meal, Nimble thought for sure she would have died of starvation, with no one knowing about her or hearing from her again. Well, if there was one thing she knew— what didn’t kill her would make her stronger.

“Hey! Fast biter!”

Nimble looked around, a puzzled expression on her face. Where was that voice coming from? She could barely even hear it...

“Down here!”

The voice squeaked again, and Nimble lowered her head to meet a young smalljaw. She leaned back, raising an unimpressed eyebrow. “Who are you?”

“I’m Cori,” the smalljaw replied, although her voice didn’t quite reach Nimble’s ears.

The fast biter squinted, lowering her snout an inch away from that of the tiny dinosaur’s. “What did you say?”

“I said my name is Cori!” The smalljaw yelled back.

“WHAT?”

Cori groaned and glanced back at her brother and sister. Mumbling something under her breath, she scampered up Nimble’s arm, climbing on top of her snout. “I said my name is Cori. Down there is my brother Mako and my sister Dena.” She pointed to the aforementioned smalljaws with her pointer claw.

“I see,” Nimble replied, her mouth curving into a tight frown as her eyes narrowed. “And why should that matter to me, exactly?”

“Because we’re lost. We came from the swamp and made it out alive with our parents, but we got separated during one of the sky water storms.”

Nimble’s eyes widened slightly upon hearing the little smalljaw mention the swamp; her last home. But that didn’t change anything. She had no reason to help these little dinosaurs, as unfortunate as their situation was. “That’s too bad,” she said, “I came from the swamplands too. My home was destroyed. Twice, actually. But that doesn’t mean anything. Why do you even want my help?”

Another smalljaw, the male, climbed her leg and hopped onto her snout, his younger sister following suit. Nimble expressed her displeasure with an intensifying glare.

“Because you’re weak,” Mako said in response to her question, “So you won’t try to eat us.”

“Would you like to place a bet on that, little one?” Nimble asked the young smalljaw, baring her teeth.

“Shut up, Mako,” Cori reprimanded, her voice as low as a gentle breeze. When she turned to address Nimble, her voice returned to it’s regular volume as she ignored her sulking brother. “Well, if you help us...then maybe we can help you.”

Nimble couldn’t help but laugh. “How exactly do you expect to help me? There’s only one thing that could possibly help me, but I lost it a long time ago. No one can bring it back.”

“Well, try me. We won’t be able to help you unless we know what you need help with.”

“The only thing that could help me...” She drew in a heavy, longing sigh, “Is the love of my children. The only way you could possibly do me any favors is if you can bring my children back from the dead.” Her blinding orange eyes stared straight into Cori’s yellow ones, “Tell me, can you do that?”

Cori immediately went silent. She had only been separated from her parents for a few hours, but already missed them dearly and wished she’d stuck close to them, wished she’d listened when they told her to stay away from the water. To make matters worse, their parents had always been a bit protective of them and often scolded them for doing foolish things that often put their lives in danger. She imagined that this fast biter had also been a protective parent, as she could feel and hear the pain in her voice when she spoke of her deceased young. But actually losing the one thing you swore to protect, after doing everything you could to keep them safe...she couldn’t even imagine it.


Alpha was growing more and more apprehensive by the minute. His twitching tail, the way he repeatedly tapped his claw against the dirt, his worried clicks, were all telltale signs that the older dinosaur was beginning to worry that something had gone wrong. Had he made a mistake by sending Crim? Was she too inexperienced after all? Oh, how he wished Hathor were here— she would know exactly what to say and what to do.

Ra, noting Alpha’s worry, came up from behind and nuzzled him. She offered a few assuring clicks, but she was uncertain if they even assured him at all. “They will be fine, Alpha,” she said after a long silence, “Even if Crim is a bit inexperienced when it comes to hunting, Hathor is there with her. She won’t let anything happen.”

“She won’t let anything happen to Crim,” Alpha stated, “But what about Hathor herself? She puts herself after everyone, and I know for a fact that she would willingly sacrifice her own life to save another pack member. I don’t even know where she is…”

Anu perked up suddenly, catching wind of his statement. Quietly, he shuffled up to the other two longtails. “What do you mean? You can’t detect her scent?”

“No, I can’t. I can smell Crim’s, somewhat, but Hathor’s is just…warped and strange, and not at all like the scent I know.” He looked out towards the horizon, “No matter where she is, I should be able to recognize her scent. That’s what worries me.”

Ra and Anu exchanged worried glances with each other. There was nothing they could say to comfort their Alpha. If a dinosaur’s scent, especially that of a pack member’s, couldn’t be recognized, it meant anything but good news.

Anu could smell the fear in his mate’s scent. She tried to hide it, but even the slightest change in body odor could reach the sensitive nostrils of a longtail. This time, there were no jokes, there were no jabs towards each other. Instead, he touched his snout to hers, followed by a reciprocation of the gesture on her part.

Alpha watched them from the corner of his eye, his stoic gaze softening only a little bit. Ra and Anu often acted as if they despised each other, but he knew that was really only because they were so comfortable with one another. They could freely make jokes at each other’s expense and even physically fight each other. However, at the moment, the sight of them saddened him. He thought about Hathor, and hoped to the ancestors that his senses were failing him and that his mate was still…part of this world. She knew his deepest and darkest secrets, ones even his pack members didn’t know, and he knew hers.

A sigh slipped through his nostrils as a lingering thought weighed heavily on his mild. Before her departure, Hathor had warned Alpha that he should have sent someone with more experience, someone who was a little bit less…eager. At the time he had dismissed her concerns, but now? He wished with all his heart that he had listened to her.


Kill them. Kill them, kill them before they kill you. There was nothing else going on in Crim’s mind at that moment as she pursued the pack of swift biters heading straight towards the mountains. She didn’t feel numb, nor did she feel sad or nostalgic. Rather, she felt an indescribable rage. She felt angry at the swift biters for killing the dinosaur whom she loved like her own mother, angry at Hathor for not ripping them to shreds right then, angry at herself for not obeying a direct order. It was because of her insubordination, her incompetence— it was because of her damned desire to prove herself that Hathor was no longer alive.

But did any of that matter anymore? No, she answered to herself. It didn’t matter. Hathor was dead, and that was that. But the rest of the pack was still well and alive, and the hunt had to go on. Hathor wouldn’t die in vain, nor would her memory be forgotten. Because tonight, they would feast in her honor.

She remembered Alpha mentioning something about this being her time to shine. Oh, she would shine, brighter than any star, brighter than even the bright circle. She wasn’t going to spare those swift biters. She would make her first real kill today, and she would make Hathor and the rest of her pack proud. Her warning screech echoed through the mountains as she left a trail of footprints and dust in her wake. Time to go in for the kill.


In and then out. In and then out. Blue repeated these two simple steps to himself like a mantra as he darted across the dirt covered path, struggling to catch his breath. As he ran, he couldn’t help but wonder— they were sharpteeth, and they were being pursued. What’s more, they were being chased by a single sharptooth! So why were they running like cowards? Why weren’t they fighting back?

He glanced over at Indigo, who despite her pain, did not take her eyes off of the winding path in front of her. Telling her would be futile; she would choose whatever option helped her avoid confrontation. He looked to his aunt. She wasn’t exactly the most confrontational dinosaur either, but from his experience, she made good decisions— even if he personally didn’t like them.

Amina could sense her nephew staring right at her, and after a minute of saying nothing, she finally chose to acknowledge him. “What is it, Blue?”

“Amina, why are we running from that biter? I mean— we’re sharpteeth, there’s three of us and only one of her. Can’t we just kill her and be done with it?”

“Well, yes, I suppose we could fight and possibly win, but you’re forgetting one significant detail, Blue.”

“Which is?”

“Longtails live in packs. They’re very tightly knit and see each other as family, even though most of them were born to different nests. If we kill even one pack member, that is a great offense to the pack. And we’ve already killed one of their own. Just imagine what they’d do to us if we killed another one.”

Blue gave her a funny look, namely one of astonishment and confusion. He still stood by his desire to fight, but the way Amina spoke about the tiny, agile predators struck him as a bit odd. “How do you know so much about longtails?”

Amina paused, briefly holding her tongue. She then opened her mouth, but closed it again. There was simply no delicate way to put this, especially in such a situation. “Your parents were killed by longtails. They were killed by a bunch of dinosaurs less than half  their size because your mother killed a member of their pack in self defense.” Her brows were furrowed, her eyes pleading with Blue, “Please try to understand, Blue. Fighting will only make things worse, and it just isn’t worth it.”


Alpha craned his head towards the direction of the screech that echoed through the mountains, resounding over and over again until it eventually faded out. The distinct screech informed the pack that Crim was here, and that she needed their assistance right away. She sounded rather angry, quite uncharacteristic for an eager, young biter like Crim.

Alpha then raised his head and turned towards Ra and Anu, giving an affirmative growl. He told them to get into formation as best as they could, with him at the front and the remaining two members at each side of him. Anu growled back and quickly joined Alpha at his side. However, Ra was a bit more hesitant.

Grinding her claws through layers and layers of dirt, Ra couldn’t help but feel a bit of guilt. Hathor should be here. This was her hunt as much as it was theirs. Perhaps she was being a tad irrational, but it only seemed fair.

Alpha barked at her, his glare issuing a warning. Ra was one of the most skilled fighters he’d ever had the pleasure of knowing, but now was not the time to second guess themselves. He needed her strength and speed.

Ra hissed and tilted her head, clearly questioning his motives. What about Hathor? He was panicking a mere second ago, how could he dismiss her absence so easily? She wondered if he even cared about his mate at all. Maybe he just wanted more hunters under his claw.

Alpha once again dismissed her concerns with another curt bark, turning the other way. Of course he cared. He was worried to death about his mate. But the hunt would go on with or without Hathor. They could learn her whereabouts once it was over.
 
Ra reluctantly agreed, shuffling up to Alpha’s right side with a growl and a hiss. The three longtail all looked at each other, making a silent agreement as they always did right before hunts. They agreed to look out for each other, to work as a team to make the hunt successful, and to remember their place. With that established, the trio of longtails leaped off of ledge, quickly making their way down the mountain, where Crim was already waiting for them.

Alpha was the first to speak when they approached the young biter. He stood beside her, growling a simple question as the chase quickly resumed. “Where is Hathor?”

The question was simple, yes, but the answer would be catastrophic. Once the words left her mouth, Crim could not take them back. “Dead,” she answered, “Hathor is…dead. That adult biter…”

Alpha wasn’t exactly surprised. He’d expected that something had happened back at the grove when he couldn’t even detect his own mate’s scent. Still, he was shocked. Her words hit him harder than an avalanche of rocks. He inhaled sharply, but remained silent. The hunt. He had to focus on the hunt.

“Ra,” he said, his voice monotonous and flat, without any emotion of any kind, “I want you to go after the young female. Separate her from the other two. Anu, you’ll pursue the male, the blue one. Crim...” He paused as Ra and Anu nodded to indicate that they understood their respective duties, “...You and I are going to make sure Hathor doesn’t die in vain.”


Adrenaline coursed through Indigo’s tiny body as she urged her legs to go faster, begged them to carry her farther than they already were. No matter how fast, no matter how out of breath she was, it wasn’t enough. The longtail biter was gaining on her; she didn’t need to turn around to know that.

“INDIGO, MOVE!” Blue barked at her. At first, the panicked biter assumed that her brother was simply yelling at her to move faster amidst his own panic. Before she even had the chance to make sense of things, she tripped over something, a rock or maybe even a twig, and found herself tumbling across the dirt. Then, the odor of another dinosaur’s body entered her sniffer. It only took a moment for her to realize she hadn’t tripped, but was being tackled to the ground.

She closed her eyes, and shut them tight. Hurts. It hurts so much— She’d never felt so much pain before. Her body was pressed against the dirt, pointy pebbles pricking her skin. She couldn’t quite breathe— why couldn’t she breathe? Her eyes flew open, looking up to find a female longtail standing on her throat with all of her might. The way the longtail looked at her terrified Indigo more than what she was doing to her. Her red eyes were filled with utter hatred and contempt, as if the longtail was torn between watching Indigo suffer or killing her right away.

Blue saw red. It was Campion all over again, except this time, he had nothing to lose and everything to gain. He’d had quite enough of these longtails to begin with, but hurting his sister was a line that should never be crossed, if one valued being alive. He charged towards the female longtail, ignoring Amina’s beckoning for him to come back. It didn’t matter. He couldn’t be stopped, and Amina had someone else to deal with.

Two longtails, a young female and a brightly colored male, most likely the alpha, stepped out in front of Amina. They effectively blocked her with their bodies, ready to pounce at any given moment. Amina eyed them closely, noticing the bloodthirsty glow in their eyes. The same glow had been in the eyes of the longtail that killed Arella, and in the eyes of Sal when he attacked in anger.

She breathed inwardly, closing her eyes. She couldn’t become like them. She loved them both, but they had been foolish, acted out of emotion when they needed to think logically. After witnessing the grisly death of her two best friends, Amina was resigned to live a life of peace and serenity. It had worked, for quite some time. All these years, she’d managed to avoid conflict and confrontation, but now, it finally seemed to have caught up with the swift biter. Amina probably could still escape, if she made a run for it, and if she had been younger, perhaps she would have. However, her heart had softened over the years she’d spent with Indigo and Blue, and as much as the logical side of her told her otherwise, she wasn’t going to leave them behind.

With a huge lunge forwards and an ounce of regret, Amina tore away from the longtail biters, or at least made an attempt to do so. The alpha hardly even flinched as he slammed her against the wall of rock, the claws on his right foot constricting themselves around the swift biter’s neck.

A furious bark arose from the younger longtail as she circled Amina. “This is the end of the line, swift biter. You’ve nowhere to go, and nowhere to hide. How does it feel being cornered, knowing that you won’t get out of this alive?”

Amina could feel and hear the hatred in the young one’s voice. It was clear that she detested Amina for killing her pack mate, and Amina could not blame her— nor could she blame herself. “...She was going to kill him.”

“What?” The longtail hissed, tilting her head in what resembled irritated confusion, “What are you yapping about?”

“She was going to kill my nephew,” Amina continued, refusing to look her in the eye, “I made a vow to myself many years ago that the life of him and his sister would come before mine. I ultimately had no choice, but I do mourn for your lost pack mate. I mourned for her when I killed her and I still mourn her, even though I never knew her. I’m sorry that you had to lose her in such a sudden and catastrophic way,” she paused to suck in a breath, “And I’m sorry for the grief and devastation I’ve caused you, but I was only defending my family...and for that, I do not apologize.”

The longtail only seemed to get angrier and angrier as the swift biter spoke, while her alpha merely listened in respectful silence. He offered a nod of his head to indicate that this swift biter, despite her actions, had earned his respect. He then growled to her, saying something that only she could hear.

“You would make a great alpha.” They were six simple words, but they made Amina’s heart swell. She’d always hoped to be an epitome of responsibility for Blue and Indigo, to be someone who was respected, and this longtail— whose pack mate she killed— affirmed that she had achieved her goal, and that was more than enough for her.

“Shut up!” The young longtail exploded, her pupils forming into narrow slits, “You are not respectable, you are not worthy of respect, especially not my Alpha’s! You killed her! You killed her to ensure your own survival, without even thinking about what it would do to us!”

“I didn’t need to,” Amina replied, each word slow and drawn out as she gasped for breath in between them, “My duty is to make sure my family lives, and I will go to any extent to make sure they do. Your pack mate understood that, but clearly, you did not.”

That did it. That statement was the catalyst that the longtail needed to go completely berserk. Letting out a roar, she angrily slashed one of her talons across Amina’s throat, barely even blinking as the swift biter collapsed to the floor, gulping for breath as the wound bled freely.

“You may have killed her,” the longtail said through clenched teeth, mouth quivering, “But I promise you, I won’t rest until every member of your family is six feet under the ground!”

She felt sorry for her, but Amina wouldn’t take any of it back. She did what she had to do, and she did not regret her actions. Her muscles trembled  as she drew in yet another quivering and raspy sounding breath, and then, as she continued to bleed out, Amina looked up at the young longtail. “...Then you’ll learn the price of living for nothing but vengeance.”

Her breathing began to quicken as she used her final moments to reflect on herself and reach the conclusion that she had done a fine job of raising Blue and Indigo after all. Whether or not they still lived after this was up to the decisions they made, as their lives were in the hands of fate now. After letting out one last feeble sounding breath, Amina fell towards the floor with a thud, the life vanishing from her eyes. Forever.


Blue hissed at the longtail who had his sister pinned to the ground. Indigo hissed back at him, begging him to go back to Amina, to just go and get out of here while he still could. Blue stood his ground, and snapped his jaws at the longtail.

The longtail dodged his teeth by an inch, eyes narrowing as she pressed her claws further into Indigo’s neck. Indigo’s voice died down into breathless croaking. “Blue…”

Blue did not relent. While the longtail’s attention was fixated on him, he slashed his sickle claw across her knee. A pained screech escaped the tiny predator as her grip weakened, although only momentarily. She then glared at him, making it clear that she had already murdered him about twelve times inside her head. The longer she stared, the more infuriated she became. It was time to finish this sorry looking sack of meat.

Without issuing any prior warning, she lunged forward and latched onto a chunk of flesh. Blue squawked in pain, desperately trying to get away, but the longtail had a death grip. How she managed to maintain a firm, unfaltering hold on  both his flesh and his sister at the same time was an unfathomable mystery to Blue.

There was then a loud tearing sound as she tore off the chunk of flesh with her teeth, inflicting a huge gash onto Blue’s side as he stumbled backwards, a pain like bright, hot fire raging through his entire body. He let out a loud, agonized roar. This was it. He was going to die. There was no way he was going to survive this—

Another longtail latched onto him, this one a male. He dug his claws into Blue’s back, but his grip was surprisingly weaker than that of the female. As the pain pulsating and coursing throughout his body provoked his natural instincts and unleashed a storm of adrenaline, Blue threw him off of his back.

After the male longtail practically flew three or four feet, he landed with a sickening crunch and a cry of pain as he fell. It didn’t sound good, and it probably didn’t feel good either. The female let out a panicked screech and leapt off of Indigo, finally giving the girl a chance to breathe as she ran to the male longtail and began frantically nudging his snout, presumably trying to wake him up. When her efforts proved futile, the longtail forgot all about Indigo and began chasing Blue up the rocky mountain.


Sucking in a huge whiff of air, Indigo scuffled to get onto her feet, looking all around her. She nearly died. She nearly died. She couldn’t take this— no— this was wrong, this was a mistake. They never should have left the grove. It was safe there, she couldn’t do this— she glanced at Blue, struggling to climb up onto a jagged ledge as the longtail biter clung to his leg, forcefully trying to drag him down until he kicked her in the face. She then searched for Amina— where was Amina?

Her eyes darted frantically back and forth, searching for even a hint of her aunt’s lilac color. Then, she found her. Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no— no! Indigo didn’t want to believe her own eyes. She couldn’t believe it. This wasn’t happening. This wasn’t actually happening...was it?

“Amina...” Indigo whimpered as she lowered herself, her eyes traveling towards the two longtail biters standing defensively in front of their kill. The sight of Amina’s corpse caused the young swift biter actual, physical pain, but Indigo couldn’t look away. Her mind reeled, but her body stopped responding.

This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be. She had to get away— right now, right this instant. She detached herself from the situation, refusing to look back for even a second as she tore away from the gruesome scene, wanting nothing more than to get the hell away.


Blue left behind a trail of red as he pushed himself up the mountain, quickly going out of consciousness as he felt the pulsating of his heartbeat pounding against his head. The female biter was not too far behind him. He was now far away from his family, and couldn’t even reach them if he wanted to. Exerting himself and producing a loud groan, he hauled himself up a particularly steep ledge. Amina was right. Fighting solved nothing. He wanted to fight, and now, he was most likely going to die.

A menacing hiss drew his attention forwards. The longtail hopped up onto the ledge with ease, finally having her prey backed up into a corner. The way she stood and held herself indicated that she was beginning to tire, but the flame in her eyes said otherwise.

He looked over her shoulder, a pointed ledge having caught his eye. If he were to fling her over the edge of this large chunk of rock, the one on which they stood, the damage would be irreversible. But did he really want to go out of his way to take another life? This pack had already suffered one devastating loss, could they survive another?

The biter inched closer, her bloodthirsty expression spelling out the word ‘hunger’. Judging from her strong but still emaciated figure, this was most likely the closest she’d come to a meal in weeks. She was only doing what she had to in order to live…and so was he.


Anu stirred slightly as he lay sprawled out on the floor, awakening to a horrifying realization that he couldn’t feel his legs. Were they even still there? He attempted to move, but when he did, he was unable to support his own weight. As he fell back down, he had to wonder how in the name of the great circle of life he was still conscious, let alone alive. He tried to lift his head and found that he could, but barely. He looked around for his pack mates. Alpha and Crim had made a kill, but where was Ra?

At that moment, her familiar screech sounded throughout the gorge. With a little bit of effort, Anu managed to look up and found her standing near an edge, yelling at what seemed to be the other adolescent swift biter, whose injuries he could clearly see. But as beaten and worn down as the swift biter was, he seemed to be slowly summoning the strength to rise to his feet. It was then that Anu came to a sudden and horrifying realization. Oh, no.


Ra took a step back as the swift biter lurched forward, snapping at her. As she drew closer to the edge, she felt a few pieces of rock and sediment come loose from the ledge. Almost instantly, she shuffled forwards back onto sturdy ground before her scowl reappeared on her features. She knew Alpha would be upset and probably even disappointed with her for disobeying an order, but she didn’t care. She heard the sound Anu’s body made when it landed. This swift biter had crossed a line with her that should never have been crossed, and she would gladly ear him to shreds, even if she wasn’t a violent person by nature.

She watched as the swift biter struggled to raise himself from his hunched over position, wincing with each movement he made. She then took another step forward, seething with rage. Even if Anu wasn’t dead at the moment, he would be very soon. Out in the mysterious beyond, a broken bone was a death sentence.

At last, the swift biter managed to haul himself upright. He lunged towards Ra, his jaws barely missing her by an inch as she dodged his attack. Then, letting out a hiss, she managed to make him nearly lose his unsteady footing by brushing her tail underneath him. “Just accept that you’ve already lost,” Ra growled, “Your entire family is probably dead, so why do you still bother to fight?”

“They…they’re not…d-dead,” he panted, utilizing his reliable sickle claw and tearing through her left thigh until he could see the tissue underneath. Ra let out a screech that almost sounded like a scream as she stumbled back, once again falling victim to his lethal toe claw.

She quickly got back on her feet, although she couldn’t quite place her left foot on the ground. Wincing, she tried to focus on charging towards the swift biter, but the sharp, burning pain in her left leg was now impossible to ignore. How miserable, she thought hazily. Both Anu and Hathor are gone. What’s the point of having our first real meal without them? They should be here...we should have waited. Am…Am I going to die…?

She stared down at her blood mottled leg, and then at the pool of red forming beneath her feet,, face crumpling. Even if she did prevail, she would succumb to her injuries soon enough. They’d grow infected and become septic, or Alpha would be gracious enough to make her journey to the Great Beyond easier. Either way, Ra would end up dead. Slowly, she began to back away. It was easy to die for someone. Death would be too easy for him. However, living? Surviving after losing his entire family? That was hard.


Blue, at that point, was barely coherent. He felt something warm dripping down his leg, and his vision made it appear as if there were two of everything, but even then, the longtail’s words resonated in his mind. Were Indigo and Amina actually dead? He didn’t want to believe it, but it was beginning to seem a likely possibility.

His mind and his heart were at odds with each other. His mind told him that they were dead, but his heart told him that they weren’t, that they couldn’t be. He’d never felt more hatred for himself than he did right then. If only he’d listened to Amina that day, if only he’d kept his mouth shut…

Well, what difference did it make? Judging from the look of things, he was most likely going to die too. He glared at the longtail, who looked back at him as if she were waiting for him to do something, to do anything. Those damned longtails. They’d done nothing but tear his family apart, and it was time to return the favor.


“RA!” Anu couldn’t repress the horrified, guttural screech that escaped him as he watched his mate plummet towards the ground after hitting her head on the jagged edge of one cliff, and then hit her neck on another. He thought that the pain of his injuries was the worst he’d ever felt. He had been wrong. So, so wrong. This pain tore through him like the claws of a fast biter, and what hurt more than anything, was that he could do nothing but watch.

Ra landed on the ground with not a thud, but a splat. A loud splat which ended up being muffled by what Anu could only assume was the sound of her bones shattering. It was most unpleasant, but the one thing Anu took comfort in was that she didn’t seem to have felt it.

Suddenly, a blur of green rushed by him. Crim, who had for the moment, forgotten about the meal, dashed over to the limp body of her friend. “Ra?” She growled, nudging the other with her snout, “Ra? Ra...? Wake up!”

Anu peered over as best he could, watching his mate’s body for any movement. There was none, not even the gentle up and down heave of her chest which would indicate breathing. His heart sank as his pain suddenly vanished, and he just became numb.

Alpha dragged the carcass over and set it down a little ways from Anu before making his way towards his fallen pack mate. He looked up and managed to catch a glimpse of the blue swift biter, crawling his way up the mountains. Alpha then lowered his head, watching silently as a distraught and furious Crim tried desperately to rouse her friend and fellow pack member.

“Ra! Ra, come on, wake up! Open your eyes, you punk!” She was now vigorously shaking the lifeless body with her snout, in complete denial of the truth, while her remaining two pack mates looked on painfully.

“Crim,” Anu groaned, face contorted in pain, “Crim, please...”

Crim held back the tears that began to cloud her vision. “Damn you...we were going to have a feast tonight! You need to be there! Come on! Come on...”

“Crim!” Anu could not hold back a cry of pain, “CRIM, STOP IT! She’s dead.” His voice trembled as he gritted his teeth, forcing himself to say the one sentence he’d hoped he’d never have to say, especially about his own beloved.

Crim whirled around in anger, her back facing Ra’s dead body. “How can you say that?! She’s your mate, how can you just give up on her? We’ve already lost Hathor, we can’t lose her too!”

“We already have,” Anu sobbed, “She was dead before she even hit the ground...there’s nothing we can do now except live on, even if— even if it has to be without her...”

Crim drew in a sharp breath, knowing she’d likely regret the words that would escape her mouth. “Then...then you didn’t care about her as much as I did!”

“CRIM!” Alpha’s booming voice silenced her immediately, drawing the despairing biter’s attention to her superior. Alpha looked down at her, tilting his chin upwards, a gesture used mostly to get a pack member’s attention. It was not a kind gesture in any way, but more so a way to remind a pack member of where they stood.

Crim dipped her head in shame, bowing submissively as she began to sob convulsively. Then, she met Alpha’s gaze, anger burning in her eyes.

Alpha did feel sorry for the young biter; she’d never experienced the loss of a pack member before, especially not this many in one day. Alas, she was about to experience one more. Alpha slowly turned away from her and walked over to Anu, eyes shut tight as he sobbed in a way that was borderline hysterical.

Anu looked up at Alpha, who reciprocated his stare with a saddened smile. His eyes asked an unspoken question, which Anu responded to with a weak nod of his head. He begged Alpha to get it over with, to make it quick and painless. Please…let me be with her again.

Alpha nodded his head one more time. It’s the least I can do. Purring softly, he gave Anu a sincere and heartfelt thanks for everything he’d done for the pack. Then, without any further hesitation, Alpha snapped Anu’s neck at just the right spot, damaging the vertebrae. Anu’s breathing came to a complete and sudden stop, and his body slumped to the ground.

Crim shook visibly as Alpha did the same thing that she did for Hathor, igniting a flood of memories that flashed briefly in her mind. As she stood there, in complete shock, it hadn’t quite hit her that she was the only pack member left. They’d all died…except for her. Somehow, she’d been spared. The longtail looked down at the carcass near her feet and silently asked herself a question she wasn’t sure she had the answer to. Was this really worth it?


The three smalljaws stared at Nimble for what felt like a long time in complete silence. Well— almost complete silence. There was the sound of Mako digging through the flyer carcass, but as soon as he was finished, silence reigned supreme once more. It wasn’t until Cori spoke up again that the ice was broken. The little smalljaw stepped up, gripping her tail with both of her hands as she spoke.

“Well...maybe we can just keep you company? I’m sure it’s  bit lonely around here, having no one to talk to.”

“I haven’t had company in about a year,” Nimble griped, narrowing her eyes, “Well…at least, not company that wasn’t trying to kill me. But that’s besides the point. You lot should just leave, go find someone else to help you, someone who actually has a chance at a promising life...just let me die in peace.”

“You’re not going to die, silly,” Dena squeaked, climbing onto Nimble’s head and rubbing her body against her frill of pine green feathers as her brother joined her, “Your wounds have already healed themselves. You just need some food, and you’ll be back on your feet before you know it.”

“I haven’t regained my footing since I lost them… and I did have food, I caught and killed a swimming biter, but it was stolen from me.”

“In that case, we can help you!” Cori chimed happily, “My brother and sister and I are great at finding food, and you don’t even have to do anything!”

“I have a sniffer,” Nimble said flatly, “I can find food myself, but even then, I don’t think it would be enough, and I’m not sure if I’d even be willing to put in the effort to find a meal. I’d much rather just die. It’s easier.”

Mako couldn’t help but snort as he leaned over and whispered into his younger sister’s ear, “She reminds me of mom.” This made Dena chuckle because she could definitely see the resemblance. As much as they both loved their mother, there was no denying that she was a pessimist, through and through.

Cori shushed her siblings and faced Nimble with a saddened frown. “I don’t think your children would appreciate their mother talking like that. I think they’d— ”

“Well, you can’t speak for them,” the female fast biter growled, “You can’t ever speak for them, because you never even knew them, so shut it.”

“I wasn’t trying to,” Cori explained, trying her best not to flinch.

“Then what were you trying to do? Because it certainly sounded like you were trying to tell me what my children would have wanted.”

“Well, I wasn’t trying to. I was just trying to say that your children— and I’m just making assumptions here— must have loved you very much, and they must have made you very happy.”

Nimble’s expression softened, and all signs of hostility vanished. “…I loved them more than anything in the world,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper, “They always looked at me as if I was the center of their universe, as if I were everything to them… and I saw them the same way. They gave me the love I’d been searching for my entire life.” She mentally cursed Cori in her head, as the smalljaw had just unleashed a torrent of emotions that Nimble had managed to keep repressed and hidden for the past year. Goodness, what was wrong with her? Showing weakness in front of a bunch of strangers, children, no less? Pull it together, Nimble!

“But my previous question still stands,” the fast biter continued, “What makes you so sure of yourself that you think you can tell me what kind of life my children would have wanted me to lead?”

Cori let out an exasperated sigh. This fast biter and Cori’s mother definitely shared some similar traits. Luckily, Cori had repeated herself to her mother enough times that she could do it without losing her cool. “All I’m trying to say is that you were able to be a good mother because you were happy, and I’m sure your children loved seeing their mom happy, and I don’t think that would change. They’d probably still want you to be happy now, and even though they aren’t here anymore, if you tried looking at things in a more positive light, you might start to feel better.”

Mako huffed and folded his arms as he unconsciously swayed his tail from side to side. “So, you just need to pretend that you’re actually happy and eventually, you’ll forget you’re pretending.”

“No, Mako,” Cori said through gritted teeth as she issued a death glare towards her brother, “That’s not what she needs to do at all.” She then looked into Nimble’s huge orange eyes, “Don’t listen to him. My brother’s just an idiot most of the time.”

“Well,” Nimble said with a sigh, slowly rising to her feet, “I appreciate your sincere efforts to help, really, I do. It’s the first time anyone has actually wanted to help me. But, I’m afraid that my problems are much more complex, and changing my outlook won’t do anything to help fix them. All I can really do is live each day as it comes and when death does come for me...well, I’ll finally be ready.”

Cori couldn’t really say anything to that, and she wasn’t going to. One of the many things her father had taught her was that she could never force anyone to change their mind, but she could still show them kindness and hope that in the end, it would make a difference. As Nimble began to amble forwards, Cori and her siblings decided to hitch a ride atop the fast biter’s head.

“Will you at least stick with us until we find our parents, though?” Cori asked, “We really don’t want to be alone out here.”

“I suppose,” Nimble replied, “It’s the least I can do. After all, it’s not like I have anywhere else to be. But as soon as we find them, it’s goodbye.”

Cori gave a nod of her head and snuggled up against one of the feathers on Nimble’s head, while Nimble stopped for a moment and lowered her head to the ground, nearly causing the smalljaws to fall off.

 She took a whiff of the dirt, the familiar smell of fresh meat swimming into her nostrils. But, there was also something. It was a wet sort of smell, like water muddled with dirt. Then, something fell gently atop her snout, staining her gray scales. She flinched, and shook her head.

The loud rumbling of thunder suddenly caught Dena’s attention. Startled, she looked up towards the sky, but could no longer hear anything. Thinking to herself how strange the occurrence was, she slowly began to edge closer to her brother.

Drip, drop...

She perked up again, letting her eyes follow her ears. They landed upon a sapling sprouting with sharply pointed leaves. The smalljaw stared for a minute, until she saw a tiny, shimmering water droplet land on the leaf, dribbling down onto the leaf below it.

Drip, drop...drip, drop...

More droplets began to fall from the sky. Dena watched as they continued to fall on the moist surface of a single leaf until the leaf broke free from it’s branch, drifting into the thin stream of water below.

Drip, drop, drip drop, drip drop, drip, drop...

The sprinkling of the droplets had now caught the attention of Cori and Mako, who at first didn’t know why they were suddenly being showered with water. Mako scowled as he looked up, covering his head with his hands. “Hey, fast biter! Get us out of here, will you?”

“You’d better learn to watch that mouth of yours before you get eaten one day,” Nimble chided, moving quickly to take cover under a tree, “And the name’s Nimble, by the way.”

“Whatever,” Mako said dismissively as he watched Nimble sniff the dirt, most likely tracking down a meal.

Dena also watched her, quite amused. She was born without a real sense of smell, and while she and her family weren’t exactly sharpteeth, their sense of smell was still a vital part of her lives. Truthfully, she’d never been able to get past the fact that her parents hadn’t cast her out. Anyone else would have. “How are you still able to smell with all this sky water?” She asked curiously, eyes wide with astonishment, “I can barely find my way around the nest when it’s dark...”

“Well it doesn’t help that you’re smell blind,” Mako remarked snidely, knowing what was coming before he words even left his mouth.

THWACK!

Cori delivered a tight slap to the back of his head, her hands clenched into tight fists. “What’s your problem?”

Mako, despite knowing how his older sister would react, still covered his head with his hands as he hissed in pain. “What’s your problem?”

“There’s nothing wrong with being smell blind,” Nimble finally interjected as she turned a corner, “One of my hatchlings, Tui, wasn’t exactly sharp. He was a bit clumsy and tended to cause more problems for me, but I loved him regardless, and I saw potential in him. Your parents must have seen the same in you, despite your smell blindness. Now obviously, Tui never got to live up to his potential, but the point still stands.”

“So are you saying I can still be useful?” Dena asked meekly, “I still have a chance of being able to contribute to my family...?”

“Of course. So long as you’re alive and willing to help yourself and others, you’ll always have a chance.”

Cori gave a smirk. “Maybe you should take your own advice.”
Nimble was struck into silence as she entered a clearing. Hm. Smart girl. Her parents must be proud.

There was then a soft rustle and the soft pitter patter of the sky water as she finally lifted her head, her meal, the carcass of a longtail, in plain sight. Nimble muscles stiffened, her body tensing up as an indescribable rage came over her. She was so angry that her feathers began to twitch.

Mako cringed, wincing at both the stench and the grotesqueness of the scene before him. “Ew, ew— Nimble, couldn’t you have found something else?”

Nimble craned her head towards the male smalljaw, her eyes practically burning through his own. “Like what?”

“I don’t know— something fresh!”

“I wanted lunch, I got lunch.” Her voice had an edge to it, an edge that sounded less like irritation and more like deep hatred.

Cori took note of Nimble’s obvious distress and furrowed her eyebrows. “What’s wrong?”

“...Nothing,” Nimble said after a long hesitation, making her way towards the decomposing corpse. As soon as she began to approach the body, the several carrion flyers already feeding on the dead dinosaur’s flesh immediately dispersed, knowing better than to challenge a creature that bested them in both strength and size. Nimble took a whiff of the carcass. “Still fresh. She’s only been dead for a couple of hours.”

Cori didn’t quite believe her. She hardly knew Nimble, but the fast biter’s scent gave away what she was feeling. “Are you sure? You seem kind of...um, upset.”

“A longtail stole my meal, remember?” Nimble’s sentence was followed by a sigh, “And I’m not upset. I’m feeling better than I have in ages. A longtail stole my hard earned meal, and now, I get to feast on a longtail.”

“Doesn’t that make you just as bad, though? I mean, this could be someone else’s meal, and they’ll come back to find it missing.”

“They shouldn’t have left it unattended then.” Her eyes widened as she suddenly came to realize her error. One of the most essential rules of the mysterious beyond was that the moment a meal was left unattended, it became fair game. Nimble wasn’t about to admit that out loud, though. As she bent down and began nibbling on the flesh, she whispered, “An eye for an eye.”


The sting of Alpha’s elbow making contact with her face, the burning sensation of her scales skidding across the floor, Crim hardly even felt them. For her, the pain of losing her pack mates, whom she’d known her entire life, hurt more than any physical wound. As she unsteadily got back onto her wobbling feet, the longtail could feel the throbbing underneath her eye, where Alpha had stricken her. He’d never done that before— but even then, Crim knew he had exercised restraint.

“I told you,” Alpha growled, “I told you to to listen to Hathor, but you— you...” He let out a shuddering gasp as he finally stopped circling the enclosure of the cave, his eyes briefly falling on the devoured carcass of the swift biter who had been reduced to no more than a pile of bones.

“I know what I did, Alpha,” Crim murmured, although with the silence that surrounded them, her words could clearly be heard, “I was there. I know what I did, I know it was wrong…”

“Then why did you do it? Because of your senseless mistake, my mate is gone,” his voice began to crack, “My entire pack is gone...”

“Now that was not my fault,” Crim said in reference to Alpha blaming her for the death of Ra and Anu, “We underestimated our enemy. The swift biters may only eat swimmers, but they have strength on their side. We never really stood a chance. And by the way, Hathor was doubtful from the start— why would you send the two of us, especially without any backup?”

“Don’t you dare question me!” Alpha roared as he brought his left food forward, causing Crim to jump back in surprise, “Don’t ever question me, is that clear? Don’t forget, I’m your Alpha. You answer to me, and only to me.”

“Well, you’re not an Alpha anymore, are you?” Crim had a dangerous edge to her voice. , one that Alpha had never heard before. Her words were like claws cutting through his chest, “And don’t pin this on me. This was all your idea. It was all you.”

Alpha breathed a sigh as he closed his eyes. He needed to get a grip. If he were to ever have any hope of starting a new pack, he needed to keep it together. When he opened his eyes, he faced Crim with a calmer disposition. “Crim…listen to me. I know that my plan was questionable and not as well thought out as it should have been, but I never meant for any of this to happen. Never in my life would I have sent you and my mate, especially not my mate, on such a dangerous mission without any additional defense. I made a mistake, I admit that, but we need to stick together. It’s just the two of us now, and—”

“No,” Crim interrupted, her voice completely deadpan, callous, and unfeeling, “No, it’s not just the two of us...it’s just you.”

“W-What?” Alpha stared at her with wide eyes, feeling as if his heart had been ripped out of his chest and stomped on.

“There’s nothing left for me here,” Crim continued, “At the very least, if I leave, I can keep the promise I made and track down every last member of that family.”

Alpha’s face was aghast with horror as he let out a hiss. “Crim, no— listen to me. The path of hatred will bring you nowhere, believe me, you’ll only end up regretting it later on. Please, don’t—”

“I’ve got nothing left to lose. If I do die...well, I can take comfort in the fact that I went down fighting, just like my friends.” Crim turned away from him, facing the opening of the cave which led to a harsh and unforgiving world. A loud rumble of thunder echoed through the gorge, and she looked at him one last time. “Goodbye, Alpha,” she mouthed silently. Then, just like that, she was gone.


After eating her fill, Nimble allowed the smalljaws to catch a meal for themselves. Watching as Cori trapped and killed a lizard and as Mako and Dena fought over who would get a piece of the tail, Nimble felt strangely nostalgic. It reminded her of how her mornings often went, with her hatchlings fighting each other to the death over a meal, even when there was enough to go around.

While Mako and Dena were busy bickering and screeching at each other, Cori, who had made the kill in the first place, began creeping over to try and sneakily grab a bite. Mako, sensing his older sister’s footsteps, whirled around and roared in her face.

“Mako!” Nimble barked, giving a hiss as she raised her tail in anger, “Lock it up! That is Cori’s kill, and she deserves to have the first bite.” Goodness. I’m talking like I’m his mother.

Mako faced Nimble, spreading his arms apart as if in disbelief. “But what if she takes the tail?”

“Then she can have it,” Nimble hissed, “As I said, it’s her kill. And you will wait your turn.” Ancestors, help me.

Dena brought her hands to her mouth, trying to stifle the snickers that escaped her. “Loooser,” she said, not realizing that she wasn’t whispering.

Nimble craned her head in Dena’s direction, glaring at her in a way that told her she was just as bad as her brother, and had no room to talk. In response, Dena simply cleared her throat and looked away.

Cori, despite being the peacekeeper between her siblings, couldn’t help but smirk to herself as she bit off a large chunk of the lizard’s tail, much to the horror of her brother and sister. Her sense of victory was short lived however, as a loud clash of thunder pulled a high pitched, frightened squeal from out of the smalljaw, who grabbed her meal and joined her siblings underneath the shelter of Nimble’s body.

Nimble peered down at the frightened smalljaws, who shook with fear as they clung to the fast biter’s toes. “It’s just a little bit of thunder,” she said, “Nothing to be scared of.”

“I miss mom...” Dena whimpered, curling up into a ball.

“Oh, she probably doesn’t even care,” Mako groaned, “She and dad are probably glad to have gotten rid of us— ah!” He didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence, for Nimble gently knocked him over with her tale before he could even properly end his statement. He looked up at Nimble, frowning. “What was that for?”

“For being insensitive,” Nimble growled, “Now, look— I may not know your parents, but I can promise you that if they love you, which I believe they do, they are worried sick.”

“And what makes you think that?” Mako questioned with a frown, “What makes you think that they haven’t already ditched us?”

“What makes you think they have?” Nimble sighed, “The only thing that any good parent wants is for their children to be safe and happy, and I know that because that’s exactly how I felt when I had mine. Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to do that. I wasn’t able to keep them safe, and I still haven’t forgiven myself. I know that your parents haven’t ditched you lot because if they lose you, then I promise you, they will spend the rest of their lives beating themselves over every missed opportunity.”

Mako hesitated a moment before speaking up again. He had genuinely convinced himself that his parents didn’t care, that they’d just run off without him. “So…you really think they’re still looking for us?”

Nimble gave an affirmative grunt. “And I definitely think they’re feeling guilty for getting separated from you.”

“But it wasn’t their fault,” Cori interjected, looking down at the ground, “They told us not to go near the water...”

“Of course it isn’t their fault.  They probably know it’s not their fault, but that won’t stop them from feeling guilty, since they’ve dedicated such a large portion of their lives to taking care of you. It’s just part of loving someone.”

As Cori nodded her head, she failed to notice Dena quietly sauntering towards a clump of dinosaur droppings lying in the dirt. Dena lowered her head and proceeded to examine the droppings, even stopping to sniff them, as futile as that was. “Hey, Cori?”

Cori looked over, eyes briefly widening in surprise when she noticed that her sister was no longer at her side.

“Don’t these look like smalljaw droppings to you?” Dena may have been smell blind, but she was surprisingly observant.

Cori wrinkled her brow and walked to where her sister was. Then, she bent over and sniffed the droppings as well. Then, she suddenly raised her head. “These smell like mom’s!” She gave them another sniff, just to make sure. Then, she gasped, “They are mom’s!”

“So?” Mako scoffed, “She could have left those hours ago. She could be a long way away from here by now.”

Cori ignored her brother’s pessimism and ran over to the fast biter whom she now considered a friend. “Nimble, do you think you can track down my mom by smelling her droppings?”

“Well, that depends,” Nimble mused, “Do your mother’s droppings smell like her?”

Cori nodded her head like an overexcited hatchling being asked if they wanted an extra piece of food. That nod was all Nimble needed. She walked over to where Dena stood, taking in the distinct smell. She separated that specific scent from all the others dancing around her, and after tossing the smalljaw children onto her back, she followed it.


Arai laid in the dirt in a prone position, her tail curling around her. She hadn’t been very hopeful from the start, but whatever shreds of it she had managed to hold onto, she was beginning to let go of. Sena watched her with a dejected expression, once again taking it upon himself to lift her spirits once again. However, he was beginning to doubt his ability. How could he lift up others when he himself was losing hope? But, even so…he had to try.

“Arai, darling, please don’t lose hope,” he purred, sitting down beside her and nuzzling her, “They’ll come back...I promise.”

“Don’t lie to me,” Arai growled, holding back the sobs that threatened to rack her body until she was too tired to cry any longer, “I appreciate you staying hopeful for my sake, dear, but you don’t have to. You can admit to me that you’re scared…it makes me feel bad when you won’t.”

“Alright...”  the male murmured, feeling something wet dampen his snout as he embraced his mate, “I am scared, if I’m being completely honest. I’ve just been trying to stay strong for the both of us. Besides, it helps me not to think about my fear. But I am scared...and I’m sorry for trying to keep it from you.”

Arai offered him a grin, the first in a long time. “That’s quite alright,” she crooned, reciprocating his affectionate gesture, “Thank you for being so strong this entire time. I don’t know where I’d be without you—”

“What?” Sena looked into his mate’s eyes, which were wide and unflinching, as if she’d heard or seen something she shouldn’t have, “Arai, what is it? What’s wrong?”

“I don’t think we’re alone,” she choked out, gesturing to the slightly rustling ferns. Sena looked towards the ferns, and heard a series of thumping footsteps, causing his heart to leap into his throat as both he and his mate hopped to their feet. Frozen with fear, the two smalljaws waited with anticipation, hoping whatever it was, would change their path. They waited...

Thump, thump. Thump, thump.

The footsteps drew closer, and the two dinosaurs instinctively clung to each other. Simultaneously, they both wondered why they weren’t moving, why they were just standing there like idiots who wanted to get themselves killed.

Then, they saw the shadow concealed within the shade of the trees, shrouded in a mysterious cloud of mist. The creature, whatever it was, opened it’s mouth— revealing a lethal set of sharp teeth.

“Oh, no,” Arai gasped and turned as pale as a frozen ground sparkle, turning tail as she began to run the other way, dragging her mate along, “I’m out of here!”

At that very moment, a familiar voice made itself known. “Mom?”

Arai and Sena stopped in their tracks, screeching to a halt. Arai turned around. “Cori…?” She mouthed, wearing an expression of disbelief. It couldn’t be...

Sena looked to Arai for confirmation. “You heard that, right?” So I’m not going crazy. Well, maybe we’re both going crazy.

“Mom?” A different voice spoke this time. It was Dena’s. “Dad…?”

The fast biter stepped out of the mist, having used it’s grey hide to camouflage itself. But Arai and Sena didn’t care about that. They were too focused on the three smalljaws riding on top of it’s head.


“MOM!” Cori didn’t even wait for Nimble to completely lower her head to the ground before leaping off of her snout and into her mother’s and father’s arms. “I’m sorry for not listening,” she sobbed, “I’ll never disobey you guys again, I—”

“Oh, shut up,” Arai interrupted, her voice cracking as she too began to sob, “We’re just glad you’re alive...oh, my baby.” She squeezed her daughter tight, “My baby…”

Sena held them both close to his chest. When he looked up, his saw Dena making her way off of Nimble’s head. As she jumped off, he rushed to catch her in his arms. Dena let out a startled squeak, and looked upwards to see who had caught her, her face lighting up when she saw it was none other than her own father.

“Daddy!” She buried her face in his chest, the emotions hitting her all at once, despite only being separated from her parents for a few hours, “I missed you and mommy…”

Sena smiled and showered his daughter with licks and kisses. “We missed you too. We missed all of you so much...”

Mako was a bit hesitant to get onto the ground. He stood at the very tip of Nimble’s snout, glancing back at her with uncertainty. Nimble then flashed a kind smile and lowered her head completely to the ground to make it easier for him. Mako leapt off, stumbling forward once he was on the ground. When he recovered, he found himself face to face with his mother, the same dinosaur whom he’d yelled at moments before their separation.

“Mom, I...I...”

“It’s alright,” Arai crooned, knowing full well what he was trying to say. Instead, she pulled him into her arms, “I forgive you. And I love you so very much.”
Sena’s heart swelled at the sight before him. He placed a hand on his mate’s shoulder as she embraced their son.

Cori then stepped up, eyes filled with a childlike excitement. “Mom, dad! There’s someone you need to meet.”

“Who, sweetheart?” Sena inquired, searching the area for anyone his daughter might be referring to.

“Her name is Nimble and she— huh?”  It wasn’t until Cori turned around that she realized that Nimble was nowhere to be seen. “She was here a second ago…” Her face fell, every last trace of excitement vanishing. She had quite been looking forward to introducing her parents to Nimble, and a part of her had even hoped that Nimble could stay with them. They would never have been reunited with their parents if it weren’t for her. 

Cori felt her mother’s hand on her shoulder, but she did not look away from where Nimble stood a mere few seconds ago. “We wanted to thank her…”

“There are some people in this world who prefer to do good deeds without expecting any reward,” Arai explained, squeezing her daughter’s shoulder, “I’m sure she knows that her kindness is deeply appreciated. Maybe one day, we’ll be fortunate enough to meet her again.”


Nimble had walked off the moment Mako embraced his mother. She hadn’t expected any reward for getting those smalljaws home safely, and she still didn’t expect one. She knew what it was like to be truly alone in the world, and she wouldn’t wish that on such innocent, lively creatures— especially when they had a family who still loved and cared for them.

As she walked down the path, Nimble felt a bit uneasy. She felt as if she’d done something wrong, even though she knew she hadn’t. Still, she couldn’t deny that she had quite enjoyed the smalljaws’ company. It had been so long, and she’d actually forgotten what it was like to talk to somebody besides herself. Maybe that was what this was. She missed them, and longed for their company. But her place was not with them. She didn’t know where her place was, truth be told. It certainly wasn’t there, and it certainly wasn’t here. She knew that much, at least.

A sigh fled from her mouth, and she continued walking. At some point along her aimless stroll, a faint rustle from the tall grass caught her attention. She craned her head towards the tall blades of green, soaked in round, transparent water droplets. The rustling got louder, and her sniffer caught the recognizable scent of a creature in distress, a creature in too much pain and fear to realize a fast biter was only a few feet away. Nimble couldn’t have planned it better herself. Crouching down, she allowed her body to coil as she darted towards the grass. Then, with all her might, she jumped.


Oof, 20K words in one chapter? That’s a new record! Anyway, I’m sorry for the long wait time for this chapter, but I do hope it was worth the wait, especially since it was a pain to format.  Crim has lost essentially her entire pack, and she’s hungry for some blood…namely swift biter blood. On the other hand, Mila and Ronan have to temporarily split up from Yariel, and Mila’s injury isn’t exactly getting any better. And finally, we found out that Nimble is actually a huge softie. I wonder what poor, unsuspecting creature she’ll end up pouncing? I guess we’ll find out in the next chapter. Fingers crossed that it won’t take nearly a month next time! Anyway, I hope you all enjoy reading and have a great week!

- Jassy

[rhombus]

My goodness, this chapter truly had it all.  A pack destroyed.  A family reunited.  A life that it seems has turned to defending in others what she has lost in her own life.  And another life that has now turned to hatred and revenge.  Normally in my reviews I try to summarize all of the events that had transpired and to focus on how well the author has captured them, but in this case I will simply say that you have effectively captured the contrasting perspectives and emotions of the various factions and dinosaurs in a truly effective way.  Though these characters are all OCs it now feels like I have known them for some time as if they were canon characters.  I eagerly await the next chapter to see what happens next. 

[jassy]

After 84 years... chapter 6 is finally here    https://m.fanfiction.net/s/13005709/1/Across-The-Seasons

Can’t Go Back

Don’t look back, don’t look back. You’ll die if you back there. Blue is back there! I never should have left him! He needed me, and I just... left him to die. No— you idiot, don’t talk like that! If Blue’s going to stand a chance, you need to keep going. He’s still out there, somewhere... I hope.


Indigo’s mind bounced back and forth between these two thoughts, threatening to rip her apart as they tugged on her from both ends. It was like two hatchlings fighting over a vine. One of them would win, or the vine would eventually snap underneath the immense pressure.

Despite her inner emotional turmoil, there was still one thing that haunted Indigo more than anything. The inarguable fact that this whole mess could have been avoided long ago. She could have just kept her mouth shut and sparred with Campion. Maybe he was just doing it to rile her up like he always did, or maybe he had actually meant it. Maybe she would have lost and she would have been maimed by her own Alpha. Or maybe... she would have emerged victorious. She would never know, because she was such a damn coward.

Indigo bounded through the thicket of trees, moving in a zigzag motion which had her narrowly avoiding running headfirst into the tough, nearly impenetrable bark. After a few close brushes, she felt an odd sense of triumph in the fact that despite her panic, she still retained her agility. But that triumph was short lived, for she caught wind of footsteps— footsteps that weren’t her own. In her panicked state, she was unable to tell the source of the sound, and her head whirled in a million different directions. Where were those footsteps coming from? What if it was one of the longtails, and it had tracked her all the way here? If that was true, she couldn’t let them catch her. She had to find Blue, as she was his only chance.

She darted across the grass like a bolt of quicksilver, the breeze plucking a few of her feathers from her tail and carrying them along with the dancing winds. She ran faster, faster than she ever thought possible, but unfortunately, failed to notice the tree trunk in her path, standing straight ahead. When she finally did take notice and let out a startled growl, it was too late.

CRASH!

The actual collision itself was short and uneventful. Indigo’s head made contact with the wood, producing a brief but loud thud. Dazed and disoriented, she stumbled backwards, her field of vision blurring until there was nothing she could clearly make out. She tried hopelessly to balance herself, planting her feet firmly on top of the grass, blinking furiously in the hopes that clear sight would return to her once more.

Her head throbbed incessantly, the pain intensifying to the point where she could actually feel a strong, ever-present pulsating sensation inside of her head which only seemed to worsen as the seconds passed by in a grueling, painstaking slowness. What a nightmare.

As she stood in disarrayed confusion, her ears took in the sound of flyers chirping as their wings cut through the wet forest air. She could hear the sound of buzzers buzzing, the soft drip drop of the sky water, and most importantly, the sound of closely approaching footsteps. The feathers making up her frill suddenly shot up, pointing towards the top of the canopy. Her pupils dilated and grew until they nearly covered up her eyes, darting back and forth as she tried desperately to focus on each individual sound in the discordant cacophony of noises hitting her ears all at once. There was then another sound— the sound of rustling leaves. She swiveled her head towards her left side, where she could see a clump of ferns shaking as if something was slithering through them— unless that was just her being unable to see straight.

Thump, thump, thump...

Each and every muscle in Indigo’s body stiffened as the footsteps drew closer, all while the poor girl was still trying to make sense of things after nearly cracking her head open.

Thump, thump, thump...

There they were again, still maintaining that same, steady rhythm. Indigo’s heart pounded against her chest, racing to keep up with her mind. As she breathed in and out to steady her heart rhythm, she noticed the odd quietness. There were no more footsteps, no more rustling leaves. Still, Indigo was wary. It was quiet. Too quiet.

"AH!" A light grey blur suddenly leaped from the bushes, tackling Indigo to the ground like a powerful tidal wave. Ow. Ow, ow, ow— Having been dealt yet another abrupt blow to her head, the swift biter shut her eyes in response to the pain. Then, in a flash of heart stopping panic, Indigo gasped as she realized that she was pinned underneath the claws of a fast biter, the predator’s breath ruffling the swift biter’s feathers. After a brief hesitation and deciding that she was willing to take the chance, Indigo opened her eyes and saw the fast biter’s glowing orange eyes boring right into her very soul. Frozen, and immobilized with fear, Indigo stared right back, waiting for the other biter to strike. Why hadn’t she killed her yet?

The fast biter drew in a deep breath, as if she were about to devour Indigo whole, and stomped her right foot against the ground as she let out an ear piercing screech. Then, much to Indigo’s surprise, the fast biter sharply turned away, disappearing into the shadow of the trees. Indigo could still see her eyes, as blinding as the bright circle itself, watching and waiting. For what, Indigo didn’t have the slightest clue.

Winded, she struggled to her feet. As Indigo rose, she looked down and realized that she had been shaking the entire time, and still was. She wondered, hazily, how someone as pathetic as her was supposed to save Blue. She could barely stand being pounced by a fast biter, and the fast biter didn’t even attack! She wasn’t a fighter, and she’d had enough bloodshed for one day. Maybe she could just lie down somewhere, just for a moment. So, she turned back and barely managed to stagger a few steps before collapsing to her knees.


Cold, filthy water muddled with dirt and leaves wedged itself in between each of the longtail’s toes as it ran down the mountain in somewhat of a zigzag pattern that never seemed to end. The mud stained her claws, which were once sleek and shiny, with dirt and debris. However, Crim hardly seemed to notice, nor did she seem to care. After all, there were times she’d gotten much dirtier than this. Much, much dirtier. She continued on her trek, her sniffer trying to find a scent that wasn’t there.

She’d been wandering, rather aimlessly, for quite some time now. In hindsight, she knew it was better for her to simply remain with Alpha— well, the dinosaur that used to be her alpha. Once one broke away from their alpha, they no longer had any reason to address their former alpha as such. They were their own alphas now. And although Crim knew it was better to stay with him, she couldn’t. She’d never break away if she did. She’d always live in someone else’s shadow, and quite frankly, she’d had enough of that.

Lowering her snout so that it was hovering a few inches above ground, Crim ignored the slipping of water underneath her feet and braced herself against the torrent of sky water that beat against her scales like a million tiny thorns as she tried to find even the tiniest clue that might lead her to the male swift biter.

She remembered his blue feathers, so bright as they gleamed in the light of the bright circle. She remembered his strong legs that carried him all the way from the grove to the base of the mountains... and how he used those powerful legs to knock her best friend off the edge of a cliff.

"Ra..." she croaked feebly, her chest heaving slowly. It was hard to say her name, as that only served as a further reminder to Crim that her friend, whom she never had to answer or explain herself to, who loved her despite all her shortcomings, had been reduced to nothing but a meal for the carrion flyers. It was still hard to believe that Crim would never hear her voice again…or the voices of any of her pack mates, for that matter.

She drew in a quivering breath, her tail falling flat on the ground with a gentle splash. She looked over her shoulder, thinking that maybe she could still turn back, that maybe Alpha would still accept her— she really had to stop calling him that. She was her own alpha now, which meant that she couldn’t go back…even if she wanted to.

Feeling more lost than ever before, Crim looked up towards the sky. She vaguely recalled a conversation she had with her mother when she was just a youngling. Her mother had told her that when death inevitably comes, no one is ever truly gone.They are part of the grass, the sky, and the hearts they touched. Crim wondered if her fallen pack mates were up there, among the clouds. She could only hope, hope that they could hear her desperate plea for help, and as crazy as it sounded, hoped that they could show her the right path.

After a few moments of painstaking silence while Crim tried to maintain her footing on the slippery ledges, she felt something soft tickle her scales. It felt so light and free, like a leaf in the wind. When she looked down, her jaw fell slack. It was a feather, but not just any feather— a dark blue one, stained in dried crimson blood.

Once again, she lowered her head, opening up her nostrils to take in the scent. After about two sniffs, her body stiffened and her pupils turned to narrow slits. That smell was unmistakable. It was him. There was no doubt in her mind about it.

As the sky water poured and poured, the strong, brisk breeze that accompanied the downpour began to carry the feather up the ledge. Crim’s eyes followed the movement, and in a flash of panic, lunged forward and snapped her jaws in an attempt to grab the feather before it flew out of reach. She closed her teeth around the quill of the feather as she leapt into the air, the chilly sky water beating down against her back. But the moment her feet touched the ledge, she realized with a sinking heart that she had lost her footing. She tried, pathetically, to regain it and tried scrambling back onto her feet, which only made it worse. With a gentle ‘oof’, she fell onto her stomach, claws digging into the earth with futility as she began to slide downwards.

Crim’s eyes were wide with horror as her involuntary trip down the mountain continued, and she shielded her face with her arms as she braced herself for the impact of the jagged edges. She had no control over her movements as she slid all the way down, for her course of action was completely determined by the mountain and the water carrying her to the ground. After several moments of feeling cold, hard rock against her scales and tasting muddy rain water, she flew off a flat ledge, landing with a splash, right into a puddle of mud.

Ow. Ow, owowow ... When Crim finally did land, she felt sore all over. In a numb, yet pain filled haze, she wondered if she could still move. She tried lifting her left leg, but immediately gave up when a hot, burning pain shot through her bones. Ow— Never mind.

It was dark, but she could still hear and feel everything around her. That was when she realized she had her eyes closed. When she opened them, the sight that greeted her made her heart leap into her throat. She saw Ra’s body, at the exact spot where it had fallen, blue and bloated, with tiny insects and carrion feasting flyers burrowing into what used to be her scales.

Crim nearly threw up the meal she’d eaten a mere few hours ago as she suddenly hopped to her feet and turned away. From the corner of her eye, she could make out the decaying corpse of Anu, stripped of it’s skin and flesh until there was nothing left but bone, lying right bedside the body of his mate. A small group of flyers were still trying to eat their fill, picking at whatever shreds of skin had still clung to his bones.

Now Crim really felt sick. Not only was the grotesqueness of the scene before her too much to bear, but the fact that a mere day ago, her friends were living and thriving, made the young longtail sick to her stomach. She collapsed to the ground, not even caring that her knees were being soaked in mud and soggy grass. She peered into the murky brown puddle, where a single blue feather drifted in the water.

The sight of it made Crim shake with rage, a rage she’d never known. It didn’t seem fair that Ra and Anu had to die at the hands of that swift biter for doing what they had to in order to survive, when he did the exact same thing and got away scot free. No— it wasn’t fair. He got away with an injury while Crim was left with a hole in her heart that could never be mended again.

A shuddering, unsteady breath slipped through her gritted teeth as her muscles began to tense up. The gaps in between her respiration grew shorter and after pointing her snout towards the bleak, grey sky, she let out a roar of anguish that echoed through the mountains like a loud, deafening clap of sky fire.


Blue crawled pathetically into the opening in the side of the mountain, leaving behind a trail of blood and feathers. After knocking the female longtail off the edge of the cliff, he knew that he’d just become the pack’s number one target, and they would stop at nothing to make sure he never saw the light of day again.

He vaguely recalled hearing their agonized howls from the base of the mountain as he desperately crawled away to get to safety. At the time he disregarded them, too stricken by panic and fear to really focus on anything. But now, as Blue practically dragged himself to the corner furthest away from the opening, that was all he could hear. The shattering of bones, those howls of grief and anguish, the slashing of claws... and that longtail’s last words to him.

"Your entire pack is probably dead, so why do you still bother to fight?"

"No..." he rasped, his chest heaving with an erratic and spasmodic rhythm, "No way. They can’t be..."

He didn’t want to believe it. How could he? For as long as he could remember, ever since he developed his first memory, his sister and his aunt had always been there. For them to suddenly be gone in the blink of an eye just seemed... wrong. It was all so wrong.

As he curled up into a ball, his lame leg lying limply in the dirt, Blue felt smaller than a buzzer. No longer did he want to fight, nor did he want to kill. He just wanted Indigo and Amina by his side. His eyes widened slightly as he felt a sharp pang of sadness in his chest. Amina. She was always there to save his sorry tail whenever he got himself into trouble. She always tried to guide him in the right direction, and all he did was bicker with her. Right now, there was nothing he wouldn’t do just to hear her lecture him and his sister one more time.

His sister. His poor, defenseless little sister. Blue winced as he thought of her, how scared she must be— if she was even still alive, that was. He hoped with all his heart that the latter was true, as unlikely as that possibility might be. She knew next to nothing about fighting as it was, how in the world would she have defended herself? She was probably already long dead. That longtail had been right. He’d lost everything that ever mattered to him, and now he wished he’d let her finish him.

Still, if anything at all, Blue was resilient. He was still here, and he was still alive, at the very least. The most he could do right now was indulge himself, lick his wounds and move on. That was what Amina did when Blue’s and Indigo’s parents died, and that was most likely exactly what she would want him to do.

So, he lifted his head, swiveling it towards his flank. Lowering his snout to where the huge, red gash had been embedded in his scales and quite literally, began licking his wounds. Blue gently ran his tongue over the exposed tissue, spitting out whatever grit and dirt had collected on the site of the injury. It stung a great deal, but Blue endured the pain. When he was done and pulled his bloodied snout away from his flank, he felt something under his arm tickling him. He shifted his head, his snout shuffling through the feathers lining his arm, pulling out a vibrant, sapphire colored feather.

Oh, boy. As if he needed another excuse to feel worse than he already did. Placing his sister’s feather on the soil in front of him, he barely brushed his claw against the soft material, a painfully familiar scent entering his nostrils as he chose to ignore the question ringing in his mind. It didn’t really matter how that feather got where it did, and how it remained put for so long. Not anymore. With a dejected sigh and the slightest hint of a whimper, Blue lowered his head and coiled right back up while tightly clutching the feather, the only piece of his family he had left.


The skies were glum and grey, the clouds ominous and dark as a shower of sky water rained down from them like a flood of mournful tears. It was on days like these that even the sharpteeth became recluses, remaining confined to their domains, knowing full well that the will of the water could easily and effortlessly overwhelm their own. Then, there were the outliers— Those that were left with little or no choice at all. Some had to keep journeying no matter what, even in harsh weather conditions, due to their own unfortunate circumstances.

"This is never going to work," Mila growled under her breath, slowly but surely placing one humongous foot in front of the other in a grueling attempt to keep her balance. Each moment felt like a lifetime, and as the longsnout could feel water and rock rushing underneath her claws, it seemed to take a herculean effort to avoid lashing out in frustration.

Ronan trailed close behind her, his bright yellow eyes glowing in the mist. As he followed his companion he wore an almost unreadable expression on his face, feeling both worried about Mila’s safety and frustrated with her incessant moaning. "Not with that attitude it won't," he finally said after a brief pause, "And your constant complaining isn’t helping things either."

Mila inhaled sharply, freezing in her tracks. Her fiery golden eyes suddenly widened, blazing with anger. Unable to fully turn her body around without causing a burst of pain, she craned her head to face the other sharptooth, eyeing him menacingly. "Alright then, genius. What else am I supposed to do? since you obviously know so much about how to deal with stressful situations, what’s your advice?"

Ronan could literally feel her staring him down, and the fact that she was larger than him didn’t quite help him feel any bigger than a little buzzer. "Look, I never said that I knew what you should do—"

"Well, you sure act like it," Mila barked, baring her teeth, "And since you’re acting so high and mighty then that means you must know more about the world than me or Yariel, right?"

Ronan could only look down at the ground, letting out an exasperated sigh. There was just no winning with this girl. He understood that she was tired and in pain, but this was a stressful time for all of them, including Yariel, who had gone off on his own and had put himself in a vulnerable position. Even Ronan was putting his own life at stake just to climb these mountains so Mila could get the help she needed, and he so desperately wished she would at least understand that much.

When he finally looked up from the soggy earth, Mila was still going on her angry tirade. He had only been vaguely paying attention, too immersed in his own thoughts about his friend and her short temper and how he wished he understood her better. Unfortunately, when he finally did meet her gaze, his bewildered expression gave away his obliviousness.

A look of realization crossed over the female sharptooth’s face when she discovered that after essentially pouring out every ounce of her frustration to who she considered her closest friend, his own facial expression revealed that he wasn’t even paying attention. It stung a great deal, but she didn’t show it. The only thing Mila showed was how disgusted she was with him. "You didn’t hear a word I said, did you?"

Again, the blank stare from the other dinosaur was answer enough. Mila stared at him for a long time before shifting her weight away from him, resigned to continue the rest of the climb on her own. "You’re irritating," she growled at him with her back turned, resuming the tedious task of putting one foot in front of the other.


Nimble paced around uneasily in the grass, concealed by the vegetation and foliage that circled around her. The grass rustling beneath her feet, she cursed angrily. Damn it! Why? What in the world was wrong with her? She was a predator, armed to the teeth, and had a perfectly good meal within her reach. Her work had practically been cut out for her and she still let it slip right through her claws. She was the worst sharptooth ever.

Still walking around in a never ending circle, Nimble’s mind continued to replay the scene over and over until the biter thought she would go mad from repeatedly reliving the same event. She’d caught wind of the distressed scent radiating off of the young swift biter and poised herself to attack. But when it came time to strike, Nimble didn’t know what happened. It was like she saw the pure terror in the swift biter’s eyes and suddenly, she couldn’t think, and she couldn’t feel. She was frozen.

Nimble peered through the tall grass, peeking her head through the foliage, her eyes falling onto a clearing where they spotted the swift biter lying on the ground. Unmoving, and completely still. Now’s your chance! The predator inside of her barked, but Nimble didn’t want to listen— ancestors knew why— and she instead elected to ignore the voice in her head. You idiot!

"Ugh!" She groaned, finally tiring of her own inner turmoil and practically throwing herself towards the ground, "Why can’t I just make a kill!" She thought about the pack she was born into; the only home she’d ever known, and how her father was practically a legend, his strength and bravery immortalized in song. Her sisters had inherited those traits, and surely, had grown up to be great hunters. Meanwhile, she was stuck being the worst hunter the mysterious beyond had ever seen.

After a moment of getting herself worked up, Nimble realized there was simply no use and let it all go. She heaved a sigh, orange eyes flicking towards the opening in the canopy, where she expected to see the bright circle’s light seeping through. Instead, all she could see were some dark, gloomy clouds. Nimble sighed again, lowering her head. Well, if she was going to be the worst hunter that ever lived, she might as well embrace it.

The moment she stepped out from the cover of the bushes and the trees, Nimble felt a dampness on her face. She looked up, and a torrent of tiny water droplets showered her scales like tiny kisses. Seating herself a good distance away from the swift biter but still sitting close enough that she was in the fast biter’s view, Nimble didn’t bother trying to find shelter from the downpour. For now, she simply watched... and waited.



Indigo awoke from her slumber to a cool, wet sensation on her face. The coldness woke her up instantly, lifting the cover of sleep off of her. "Ugh... my head is killing me..." she groaned, briefly closing her eyes to ease the pain as she jumped to her feet. When she opened them to see a thicket of trees in her field of vision, the young biter felt vaguely disappointed that she was awake.

"How are you feeling?" Came a hiss from the opposite direction.

Indigo’s eyes went wider than the bright circle as she suddenly whirled around to face the source of the noise. When she saw a fast biter, the same fast biter whom she thought was going to kill her, her blood went cold. "Please don’t eat me!" She squawked, lowering herself all the way towards the ground. In her terror, she had a passing thought about how funny it was that she wished she was dead, but when actually faced with danger, Indigo wanted to do anything but die.

The fast biter tilted her head, confused by all the smells the swift biter was giving off. She picked up the strong scent of distress, which was to be expected, but there was something else— a faint scent of hope. That was what was really confusing her. After a moment of staring at the swift biter in bewilderment, the fast biter spoke up. "No, no, wait," she insisted, "I’m glad to see you."

This only seemed to make things worse. Indigo backtracked, stepping away from the other biter. Of course she’s glad to see me. She’s going to eat me. She was just biding her time! She dipped her head and closed her eyes. "You should just finish me off already."

The fast biter then narrowed her eyes, tilting her chin so that her head was just above Indigo’s. She snorted, staring the swift biter in the eyes; a gesture of disappointment among pack members. "...Little biter, you are a fool."

Indigo nearly choked on her own saliva. "W-What?" She didn’t even know this dinosaur, but hearing her talk the way everyone else did to her, make her feel the way others made her feel, it still cut deep. And it still hurt just as much.

"You heard me," the fast biter growled, "I gave you a chance to run away. Two chances, actually. Instead of taking the chance, you just freeze up like a coward. Forget eating you, it would be a disgrace for me to ingest such pathetic prey."

"But I shouldn’t have had those chances," Indigo promptly responded, her voice quivering all the while, "A meal is still a meal, isn’t it? I thought fast biters always go for the kill." She glanced at the other, and took in her scent. Indigo smelled no malice on her, and it was then that she finally calmed down. "...So why didn’t you?"

The fast biter froze, eyes widening in what seemed to be panic, or was it anger? Indigo couldn't really tell. "You’re too skinny," she hissed, "A scaly swimmer would have made a better meal than you would have." She shook her head, "Anyway, forget about all that. Were you really trying to get yourself killed? I thought your parents would have taught you better."

"I.. I don’t have parents,” Indigo choked out, "Just a brother who’s probably dead. And honestly, I really wish I were dead right now," the swift biter could not hide the breaking of her voice, "that would be better than having to live another day like this—!" Her eyes grew moist, flooding like the river during the start of the wet season.


Of course, Nimble thought as she watched the young biter in front of her weep and weep, I should have known. A biter as young as her wouldn’t be out here on her own without the protection of her pack unless she lost them... like I did.

The fast biter’s gaze softened considerably as she dared to take a step forward, lowering her head a tad and pulling her claws towards her chest to show that she meant no harm. Nimble saw much of herself in the young swift biter, and wanted to give her a gentle nudge in the right direction. After all, who knew if they’d ever see each other again after they parted ways.

"Now tell me something," she finally said after a long silence, "Do you have any family at all? Would you know where they are?" Nimble didn’t care to tell her to stop crying; better for her to let everything out than keep it inside.

"N-No," the swift biter replied through her tears, "My aunt and my brother were banished from our pack, along with me."

Nimble’s eyes widened slightly. Banished? She’d abandoned her own pack, but she’s never heard of somebody who was forcibly cast out from theirs. In the back of her mind, she wondered what must have happened, but it wasn’t important.

The young girl once again broke down into tears. "I wish you would have killed me," she croaked, "I’m a coward, and I don’t deserve to live. I..." her words were cut off by loud, painful sobs.

Nimble froze, wincing. Unbeknownst to her, her orange eyes were softening into a gentle, sympathetic expression. She remembered when she felt that way— when she thought she had nothing left to live for, and that she’d be better off dead. She still felt that way, but seeing someone else feel the exact same way, it was like watching her life from on outsider’s point of view.

Just like that, Nimble’s body relaxed. She sighed gently, and leaned forward to gently touch her snout to that of the swift biter’s in a comforting gesture, one she’d use to pacify her own young ones. "Come now. Surely, life isn’t that bad." What a hypocrite. The swift biter sniffled as Nimble pulled away.

"You... look terrible." Nimble tried to say gently, but there was simply no delicate way of putting into words just how bad the other biter looked at the moment. "Are you hungry?"

The swift biter nodded, trying to quickly wipe her tears away. In the midst of her despair, Indigo wondered if this was just a sleep story, but in her mind, she knew it was real.

"Alright then," Nimble responded, "Follow me."


As the longtail dragged her feet through the muddy water, each step made her legs feel as if they weighed more than a fully grown longneck. Crim felt a pit at the bottom of her stomach that only seemed to sink lower and lower, serving no purpose other than to make her feel sicker than she already did. In between her two talons she clutched the swift biter’s feather, sniffing the dirt as she diligently followed his distinct scent.

She had to find him. No matter what happened, she had to find him and kill him. Ra died because of him. Crim would leave no stone unturned in making sure that her sacrifice was not in vain, although it weighed heavily on her conscience that she was not killing for the sake of survival— but for revenge. She remembered she’d promised her mother that she’d never resort to such a thing. Her mother’s words echoed in her mind, taking Crim back to a time when everything seemed so much brighter.

The tiny longtail was unsteady on her feet as she chased a tiny buzzer, her eyes glowing with hunger. In small, sloppy strides she tried to match her speed to the speed of it’s wings. But without proper footing, she’d fall. Which she did.

"Crim," her mother hissed gently, "Come over here."

The youngling forgot all about the buzzer she had been after and hopped gleefully over to her mother’s side. Crim’s mother wrapped her tiny daughter in her arms, letting her play with her talons.

"Yes, mama?"

"Look. The hunters are making a kill." Crim’s mother pointed beyond the ledge that overlooked the plains which covered most of their land.

Crim followed her mother’s finger, and spotted four other longtails surrounding a duckbill swimmer. The two flankers, living up to their title, surrounded the swimmer at both sides. There was another longtail at the rear, growling as to warn the swimmer to stay put. Last, but definitely not least, there was the Alpha positioned at the front. He inches closer to the swimmer, cornering it. Then, he made the fatal blow, his teeth ripping through the leaf eater’s neck. It was quite the sight for a young longtail like Crim, who had never witnessed such a gruesome scene before. She felt a bit uneasy, and sorry for the poor duckbill who had only been having some lunch, and could never have foreseen that it would be the last meal he would ever have.

Crim looked back at her mother with confusion in her eyes. "That's how we get our food, right?"

Her mother nodded, and Crim looked away for a brief moment before meeting the older dinosaur’s gaze again.

"Isn’t that a bit unfair, though? I mean, that swimmer wasn’t doing anything... don’t the hunters feel bad?"

"That’s what I wanted to talk to you about, my little one." Crim’s mother brought her closer, "You’re old enough to know what every sharptooth knows."

Crim blinked. "What’s that?"

"There’s a sort of... unspoken agreement between the leaf eaters and our kind. We sharpteeth cannot change the way we are. We have to eat other dinosaurs to survive, and you should never feel guilty for it. But, when you start killing for other reasons besides survival, that’s when you are in the wrong. It disrupts the circle of life, and it is not in our nature to kill for selfish reasons. Most sharpteeth will never accept someone who kills mindlessly without any reason into their pack. Do you understand?"

Crim hesitated slightly. "...So, if I kill a dinosaur and I don’t plan to eat it, that’s wrong?"

Her mother gave a brief nod. "Exactly. Now, I want you to promise me you’ll never resort to such a thing."

With a smile and a childish giggle, Crim returned her mother’s nod. "I promise, mama."

Those moments replayed over and over inside Crim’s head. The guilt bore down on her like the harsh rays of the bright circle in an unforgiving desert. She broke her promise to her mother, and the worst part was that no matter how horrible she felt about doing it, it still wouldn’t stop her.

 "I know you’d be disappointed in me, mother," Crim growled softly, not really talking to anyone— at least, not anyone who was physically there, “I know I broke my promise, but I have to do this. Please... forgive me."

No, you don’t! The sensible voice inside of her cried out, the part that thought with her head instead of her grieving heart. But that part was quickly shut down as Crim carried on. She walked a few more steps before coming to a stop, looking up at the steep cliff side. She sniffed the air; the scent of the biter was stronger. With a grunt of determination she lifted herself up onto the ledge and began climbing.


The fast biter and the swift biter sauntered through the moist grass, only slightly soaked by the sky water that had begun to fall. Nimble paused and looked around, searching for somewhere they could stand to keep themselves dry. She then spotted a tree, it’s branches extending above the flowing river.

"Over here," she motioned with her head and began walking towards the aforementioned area. Indigo followed her, still in somewhat of a daze.

The girl bent over the river, peering at her reflection. Yuck. She did look horrible. Balancing herself on her haunches, she dipped her snout into the water, keeping it there for a while.

When she didn’t re-emerge, Nimble got a little worried. "Little biter?" She called, not really knowing what else to call her.

Indigo gave a reply, but her voice was muffled by the water. Realizing that the other probably had no clue what she just said, Indigo pulled her head out of the water and shook herself dry. "I said I’m fine," she repeated, "I do feel a little bit better now that I’ve had something to drink." Her face fell, "Not that much better, though."

"I understand." Nimble eyes flew down towards the water, watching a shimmering object move about underneath the surface. With one claw, she reached inside and snatched up a swimmer. She then cleared her throat, dropping the fish onto the ground. "Eat up."

Indigo looked at the swimmer, and then at Nimble. "You don’t want it? It’s your catch. Besides..." she waited a moment and seized another swimmer with her teeth, plopping the dead creature onto the grass. "I know how to catch swimmers."

"Suit yourself," Nimble responded with a shrug, taking a bite out of the meal she’d caught. "I’ve been meaning to ask... what’s your name? I don’t want to keep calling you 'little biter'."

"My name’s Indigo," the girl answered, making eye contact with the fast biter as she took a huge chunk out of the swimmer. "At least, that's the name my pack gave me. What’s yours?"

"Nimble. Although, I don’t think it’s very fitting. I’m anything but." She snorted, shifting her weight and seating herself in a patch of tall grass. "Would you care to tell me about what happened to your pack, Indigo? I can’t help but wonder what a small, defenseless biter like you is doing out here all by herself."

Indigo groaned under her breath, clearly not taking very kindly to the way in which Nimble described her, which earned a huff from Nimble.

"You know it’s true," Nimble pointed out, "You’re not exactly the strongest biter I’ve seen."

Indigo gave a sigh of defeat, having nothing to counter that statement with. "Before I came here, I was living with my brother and my aunt," she began, "We lived in a large pack. It wasn’t bad... we were protected and we had food…"

Nimble narrowed her eyes. "But?"

"I feel horrible saying this... I didn't like our alpha very much. Everybody was scared of him, he would scare and beat you into doing what he wanted. My brother... he wasn’t afraid of him, especially when he would threaten me."

"If he threatened others into submission, then he obviously wasn't fit to lead the pack. Why would he threaten you?"

"I… I don't really know for sure. My brother said it was because I was too easy of a target. But one day, my brother was out looking for food. I was alone... my alpha, he... challenged me to a spar. To defend my honor."

"What?" Nimble exclaimed incredulously, "What for? In my pack, we’d very rarely do that sort of thing. Only when there was no other way to settle a dispute."

Indigo nodded in agreement. "I didn’t want to fight him, but he was going to attack me anyway. My brother returned and fought him before he could do anything... we were banished for it. My aunt, brother and I. My aunt was furious." She sighed heavily, "I can’t believe she’s gone."

"What happened to her?"

"A while after we left, we were ambushed by longtails. My aunt died trying to protect us." Indigo had to force out those last few words.

As soon as she heard the 'L word', Nimble cringed in disgust.

Indigo noticed her reaction, and was a bit confused. "What? Did I say something wrong?"

"Nothing," Nimble growled, "I just don't really like longtails. A longtail stole my meal that I nearly died trying to kill, and I was too weak to defend it." She exhaled through her nostrils, "I know it’s not right to base an entire group on the actions of a few, but I haven’t met a single longtail so far that’s changed my mind." Nimble shook her head, silently scolding herself for getting so far off the topic, "Never mind all that. What about your brother? What happened to him?"

Indigo was caught slightly off guard. "We got separated after the attack. I haven’t seen him, and I don’t even know if he’s still alive... do...  do you think he is?"

Now it was Nimble’s turn to be surprised. "Uh... well, I... honestly, I wouldn’t know. But if you didn’t see him die, there’s still a chance that he’s out there. Just try and have faith."

Indigo nodded meekly, and then looked at Nimble, as if mulling over a question. "...Would you maybe be able to help me find him, if he is out there?"

Nimble winced. She knew that was where this was headed, but hoped they could have avoided mentioning it. "Look," she sighed, "I don’t really travel with others. I’ve always been alone, and I don’t plan to change that now."

What little hope Indigo had in her seemed to vanish in that moment, just like that. Nimble felt terrible. "Listen. I... I’ll stay with you until you get back on your feet.  How does that sound?"

Indigo lit up a little bit, once again. She nodded, drawing in a sigh. "I’m sorry... about how I acted earlier. I was a little bit... crazy," she chuckled nervously, "Really, I should be grateful that you decided to help somebody as pathetic as me."

"Don’t talk like that," Nimble snarled, "That’s no way to talk to anyone, much less yourself." Word of advice: take your own advice.

Indigo averted her gaze, turning her eyes towards the river. She focused on a scaly swimmer, zipping through the water. She thought of Amina, who probably would have caught it already before she could even blink. Amina always loved anything that posed a challenge.

Nimble looked up to hear the sound of sniffling. Craning her head, she saw Indigo, making a sorry attempt at hiding her tears.

"Sorry," she apologized, dipping her head, "I shouldn’t be such a mess, especially not in front of a superior. I’ll stop."

Superior? Nimble blinked, raising a brow. Then, she realized— Indigo had only ever known how to behave living in a pack. "Indigo, everything you learned in your pack… gestures, ranks... they don’t apply out here. I’m not your alpha or your superior."

"Then... what are you?"

"Well, I’m not really... anything. I'm by myself, so there's no rank for me to be a part of. I’m just another dinosaur, and you don’t have to apologize to me for feeling the way you do."

Indigo gave a nod of her head, a few stray tears falling from her face and into the river. "I really miss her. I never knew my parents, but with my aunt, I still felt like I had both a mother and a father."

Nimble could do nothing but listen. There was nothing she could say that would seem appropriate, and all Indigo needed right now was for someone to listen as she got through those moments on her own.


As nighttime fell, without the light of the night circle to illuminate the land, everything was engulfed by darkness. Mila and Ronan hadn’t said a single word to each other since their ‘argument’. It wasn’t even an actual disagreement, but more so Mila refusing to talk to Ronan and being too stubborn to listen to what he had to say.

Ronan climbed onto a wide ledge, sniffing the earth. "There’s a cave right here," he told the fuming longsnout, "It looks big enough for the both of us. We should probably rest here until the bright circle rises again."

"Don’t worry, you can have that whole cave to yourself," Mila growled, "I’m sleeping out here."

Ronan blinked, dumbfounded. "Out here? In the sky water?"

"Look, when I want your opinion— which will be never, I’ll ask for it." She huffed, and hauled her weight onto another ledge a few feet higher than the one Ronan was currently standing on.

Ronan wanted to point out that there was no cave up there she could sleep in, and that if she chose to sleep on the ledge, the sky water could cause a mudslide. Unfortunately, there was no way she’d listen to him right now, not until she got over her anger. So, he saved his breath and settled himself into the cave.

As he curled up to go to sleep, he felt a faint rumble from above, and saw a couple rocks crumbling down from the cave walls. Then, silence. He exhaled, and rolled over to try and get some sleep.

He must have rolled over about ten times. He couldn’t sleep; he was too worried. Yeah, Mila was a pain in the ass, and stubborn to a fault, but she was still his best friend. The crested sharptooth groaned in annoyance. He hated it when he actually cared about others.

He stood up, and walked out. "Mila!" He roared, "Get your stubborn butt down here."

Mila barely moved. "Go away, stupid," she bellowed.

Ronan scowled. "Who you calling names, jerkface?" He winced as he realized the irony. "Look— just hear me out, okay? I’m sorry I wasn’t listening to you before, but I just want to know... why are you still so angry?"

Mila rose to her feet, her eyes glowing orange in the darkness. "You want to know why I’m mad? You really want to know?"

Ronan hesitated. That sounded like a trick question, but he didn’t know how. "Um... yes?"

Mila narrowed her eyes. "I’m not mad because you weren’t listening to me. It didn’t help, but that wasn’t the main reason."

Ronan stared at her, nearly synching his breathing with the pitter patter of the sky water. "Then what is?"

"It’s you!” Mila snarled, "You and your determination to find that damn fast biter we were tracking in that disgusting swamp! You were willing to risk everything if it meant catching her... and for what? So you could regain your stupid honor? So you could have your father’s love and respect again? I don’t know how many times I have to repeat the same damn thing— any father who casts his own son out and sends him on a fool’s errand— like the one you’re on now, doesn’t care about you."

Ronan was speechless. Each word she uttered made him feel smaller and smaller. He hadn't wanted to think about it much, but it was always on his mind. He hoped that by doing what his father wanted, it would help fill that empty hole in his heart. But in the back of his mind, Ronan wondered if he was really doing the right thing.

"That’s what makes me mad, Ro," the longsnout continued, "The fact that you have two friends who love you for who you are, and you’d be willing to throw that all away for the sake of someone who couldn’t care less about you."

Ronan drew in a shuddering breath, trying to find his voice. He looked directly at her, pupils turning to narrow slits. "You don’t know what you’re talking about. You don’t know my father," he hissed, "He cares about me. He just has a different way of showing it. He's doing all this to set me on the right path."

Mila’s body seemed to slump a little as she glared at him, dumbfounded. "You’ve got to be joking."

"Well, I’m not. Besides, how would you know what a good parent is and isn’t? You grew up all by yourself, without a mother or father. You wouldn’t know."

Every muscle in Mila’s body stiffened, and she suddenly turned on the other sharptooth, letting out a piercing roar, directed in his face. "You— you are so stupid and irritating! Why do I risk my tail for you every time?! I’ve never met anyone so selfish—"

Ronan’s anger reached it’s peak and exploded like the fiery mountain that blew it’s top. Without thinking, he slashed his talons across the other dinosaur’s snout, leaving two reddening gashes. By the time he realized what he did, it was too late.

"Mila, I—"

For a moment, she looked as if she might kill him. But then, all emotion on her face disappeared, and it was like he was staring at a rock. "It’s fine, Ronan. Go do whatever you want, don’t let me stop you."

Somehow, that felt worse than her yelling at him at the top of her lungs. At least, when she was yelling, Ronan knew she did it out of love. But when she was calm, her sentences short and concise, that was when the sharptooth knew he messed up. Badly.

He felt water sloshing underneath his feet, running rapidly down the mountainside. He shifted himself forward, going after her as she walked away. But, just as he placed one foot forward, the rock beneath him began to crumble. The sky water had eroded much of it away, leaving a very unstable foundation.

"Mila, wait!" He stomped his foot, causing the rock to crack. He looked down with a gasp, lifting his foot to try and ease some of his weight off of the ledge. Mila heard the crack as well and quickly changed her course, the rage in her eyes replaced by fear.

The longsnout watched and waited, fearing that she might just make things worse by doing anything. "RO! Don’t move!"

"I’m trying!" The male screeched in response, rocking back and forth like a tree in the wind. The ledge beneath gave way and he lost his footing, skidding down the mountain,  plummeting towards the rocky ground.

Mila was almost afraid to look over the edge. She wouldn’t be able to handle it, if he really did fall to his death, she’d never forgive herself. The last thing they did was fight.

"Mila! Are you there?!" A familiar roar echoed, giving  the longsnout the courage she needed to peer over the edge. When she did, she was relieved to see Ronan, barely hanging on to one of the rocks protruding from the side of the mountain.

"Ro! Are you okay?"

"Y-Yeah," he responded, “But it’s really dark, and I can’t see anything... this rock is really slippery.” He dug his claws deeper into it, hanging on with all his might.

Mila edged closer, lowering her tail down for him to grab on. "Grab hold of my tail! I’ll pull you up."

Ronan sniffed around in the dark, biting down on her tail once he caught her scent.

"Ow!" Mila grimaced, but began slowly and steadily pulling him up. Pain coursed through her body like a raging fire, but she pushed through it anyway. She hauled him up onto the ledge, collapsing to the earth once she knew he was safe.

"Owww," she bellowed, "It hurts, it hurts, it hurts-"

"Calm down, you big baby," Ronan jabbed playfully for a moment  before assuming a more serious demeanor. "Thank you... for saving me. And I’m sorry for attacking you. I had no right, especially after all you’ve done for me."

"Apology accepted, you sap. Now, do me a favor and help me to that cave you were talking about earlier. I’d rather not get drenched."

Ronan grinned, nodding happily. "Sure thing."


"So, where do you live?" Indigo asked as Nimble laid down, resting her head on her arms.

"I don’t really live anywhere," Nimble responded sleepily. "I never actually made a nest. I haven’t gotten the chance to. I used to live in the swamplands but when they started flooding, I had to leave."

Indigo laid down across from her, feeling a bit awkward as she tried to get comfortable. "You never had a pack?"

"I did. But I ran away when I was a youngling, a few years younger than you, actually. It was stupid— I was afraid of enduring my father’s wrath, so I ran away from it. I... sort of wish I hadn’t, sometimes. At least if I had stayed, I wouldn’t be where I am now."

Indigo peered at her for a moment, as if mulling over what to say. "This might sound bad, but I’m glad you did. If you hadn’t, I never would have met you."

Nimble glanced at the swift biter, her eyes becoming moist and gentle. "You give me too much credit, little one. I’m not that amazing. Trust me."

"But you helped me, even when you didn’t have to. My aunt taught me that out here, it’s every dinosaur for themselves, and that it was a 'kill or be killed' kind of world. I was afraid to be on my own, and I panicked when I got separated from my family, but now I feel better. I... I don’t feel that scared anymore.” She gave a hopeful smile, the first Nimble had seen from the girl, "...I feel safe with you."

The corner’s of Nimble’s mouth twitched slightly, forming a ghost of a smile. "But she was right. Out here, you either eat or you get eaten. I was never the best hunter, and I always felt sorry for those we killed when I was living with my pack. Most sharpteeth outgrow that trait, but I never did. Had it been any other sharptooth, they probably would have killed you on sight. You just got lucky."

"I guess so, but..."

"That’s enough. I’m too tired to be having this conversation. Now, I’m going to sleep. Good night." She rolled over, and closed her eyes.

A part of Indigo hoped they could have kept chatting until the bright circle rose. She didn’t want to sleep, and she doubted she’d even be able to. This was the first night in her life where she wasn’t with Amina and Blue. She looked over at Nimble’s sleeping form.

A bit reluctantly she crept over, wanting to be curled up with her, the other’s tail wrapped around her. Indigo was nervous; what if she said no? What if this ruined everything and Nimble decided to leave? Or worse, Nimble told her to leave?

Before Indigo could panic anymore, Nimble turned over, opening one eye. "What? You want to sleep next to me?"

Indigo glanced left and then right, making sure the fast biter was talking to her. Idiot! Of course she’s talking to you! Who else would she be talking to? Indigo nodded a bit timidly.

With a sigh of exasperation, Nimble lifted her arm. "Come here."

Indigo rushed over a little bit too eagerly. She filled up the empty space in between the grass and Nimble’s arm, making herself comfortable. Trying to be discreet about the huge grin on her face and failing, she closed her eyes. "Good night, Nimble."

Nimble couldn’t help the little chuckle that slipped out. For the first time in a long, long time, she wasn’t longing to go back to the past, longing to go back to what once was. She felt hopeful, and she was finally looking forward to the future. “Good night,” she finally said in a hushed voice, barely audible amidst the falling sky water.


Crim tried to ignore the searing hot pain coursing through her limbs. Each muscle begged her body to stop, to rest itself, but it was all for naught. The longtail wasn’t going to stop. Even if she couldn’t see that well in the dark, she had her sniffer on her side. She simply followed the scent on the blue feather, wherever it took her. She was definitely determined, but Alpha warned her it was that determination that would spell doom for her one day.

"Ugh." She scoffed, wondering why in the world her mind would drift to him. Even when those swift biters killed his mate, her pack mates, he still had the audacity to say he respected them? All he cared about was his reputation. He couldn’t care less about his pack. It made her sick. He made her sick.

But even then, why did she think about him so much? Why did she miss him? He never even cared about her… but it would be nice to know she’d have someone to protect her. And at least she’d have a place to call home.

No, no, no! She wasn’t supposed to think like that! He wasn’t her alpha anymore. He couldn’t protect her. He couldn’t give her what she needed. Her mind and heart were at odds with each other, as they had always been. However, she’d already made up her mind a long time ago.

She leaped up on top of a pile of rocks, pointing her sniffer towards the air. Then, she sniffed the feather. The biter wasn’t too far, and Crim could already taste her revenge. She hoisted herself up onto a ledge, carefully stalking her way up to the top of the mountain.


After a long night of sky water that seemed to drag on for ages, morning came, and the bright circle once again peaked over the mountains, showering the land  with an outpour of light. Some creatures had already stirred, and a few flyers were already soaring through the purple skies.

Some of the light poured into the cave that Mila and Ronan were sharing for the night, an unwelcome surprise for the longsnout who was a very grouchy riser.

Mila groaned, trying to turn away from the source of her crankiness, but it was no use. She opened one eye, barely, and it was like somebody threw the entire bright circle at her. "Ughhh..." She lifted her head, eyes narrowed as a warning to anyone that tried to test her patience, that she was not to be trifled with right now.

Ronan, on the other hand, woke up with a more upbeat attitude. "Morning, Mimi." He stretched his legs a little bit, letting out a yawn to get the cover of sleep off of him. "You sleep well?"

"I hate waking up," Mila grumbled, "The bright circle can go and shove it."

"What did the bright circle ever do to you?"

"It existed," Mila spat without missing a beat.

Ronan shook his head. "Well, that’s enough moping from you. Come on, we have to get going."

"Does it look like I can get up on my own?"

Ronan shot her an unimpressed look as he helped her to her feet, letting her put some of her weight on him, easing some of it off of her leg. "Just once, I’d like you to give an answer that isn’t coupled with some snarky comment."

"Too bad. That’s never happening."

The crested sharptooth laughed as a somewhat defeated sigh escaped him. "What else is new?"

“Well, you scratched me,” Mila pointed out unhelpfully, "That's never happened before."

"You’re still on that?" Ronan asked incredulously. "I said I was sorry! Besides, that’s not exactly new."

"Yeah, but it still hurts!"

"Again, I’m sorry," he grunted, suddenly becoming more serious and sincere. "I was out of line for that. You were actually right about one thing."

Mila blinked in surprise, her face lighting up a little. Maybe he’d finally realized he didn’t need to go on this crazy mission, that he already had all he needed. "I was?"

Ronan nodded. "I haven’t been very respectful towards you and Yariel. You two risk a lot everyday to help me, and I’m very grateful— I know you guys know that I am, but I never really show it. I’m sorry. For taking you two for granted."

At first, the girl didn’t say anything in response. She realized just how rare it was for him to actually be sincere, and now that he was, it dawned on Mila that this was the first time he was being honest and open with her. Even if his words weren’t exactly what Mila wanted to hear, she’d take it. "Aw, it’s okay, you big dummy. I know you just want your father to welcome you back with open arms... I don’t blame you for wanting to do everything you can to make that happen. But no matter what you decide, Yariel and I will always be right behind you."

The boy’s mouth crept into a rare smile, his usually harsh yellow eyes soft and kind. "I know. Thank you for always being there for me, even when I act like a jerkface."

"Well, somebody’s got to set you straight," Mila teased, a hint of a smirk dancing across her face.

Ronan laughed, and usually, Mila would have laughed along with him. But as she gazed at her friend, she really, truly hoped that his father would accept him when he returned, for his own sake.

The remainder of the journey up the mountain was made in silence. Thankfully, they’d made it past the worst of the climb, and it was just a matter of how far they had to walk. When they finally made it to the top, the bright circle had already completely risen above the mountain.

Mila decided to sit down and give her leg a rest. She’d already walked enough for one day, and took the opportunity to relax as much as they could before they inevitably had to continue on. She was just about ready to chew her leg off.

"Well, what do you know," Ronan mused, gazing at the land below them, "We made it here before him. Suck it, Yariel."

"You might want to turn around, Ro."

Ronan whirled around to face the source of the familiar voice behind him, and saw Yariel standing there. The male longsnout walked forward, examining the other male for any injuries.

"So you two were able to make it all the way up here without murdering each other," the longsnout observed. "Good job. I’m impressed."

"We came pretty damn close, though," Mila hissed, pointing to the scabbed over gashes on her snout.

Yariel gave her an 'are you serious' kind of look. "You’re still alive though, aren’t you? That’s all that matters."

Ronan moved to stand right next to him. "So, what’s next?"

Yariel’s gaze hardened a little as he looked out towards the horizon, past the plains that unfurled to reveal a lush, green paradise. "Now, all we need to do is walk until we reach Green Haven."


Blue hadn’t been able to sleep. Every time he closed his eyes he’d relieve that horrible experience all over again, and somehow, it would only get more horrifying each and every time. He would see his aunt being ripped to shreds, his sisters trapped underneath the biter’s claw, threatening to choke the life out of her. Blue let out a shuddering gasp, a chill going through his entire body. He didn’t want to think about it, but there was nothing else that he could think about.

The worst part of it all was that it was his fault. It was his stubbornness, and his selfishness that landed them in this situation, and it was because of him that his family was gone. But then, in the back of his mind, there was a voice that told him not to blame himself— it was no one’s fault. It was the circle of life, and no one could run away from it. Unfortunately, in his grief, the swift biter absolutely refused to listen to any voice of reason-- even his own.

He tried to roll over to at least get comfortable, but couldn’t even do that without whimpering in pain like an injured youngling. He felt pathetic. He was probably going to die here, without ever seeing his little sister again.

When he saw the bright circle slowly rising above the mountains, Blue groaned. He’d been up all night without a wink of sleep. That was a first, but most likely not a last. At least the sky water had finally stopped. He had that much going for him, at least.

He gave a sad, dejected sigh, and began preening his feathers a little bit to occupy his mind for the time being. Then, suddenly, he heard some noises from outside his little sanctuary. It sounded like claws scraping against rock, and it was very close. Blue froze, dropping whatever he had being doing at that moment so he could listen.

He watched and waited until he saw a shadow creep up over the ledge. It was another dinosaur. Blue gasped in surprise, scooting back against the wall, hoping that the creature would not spot him.

The footsteps drew nearer. The dinosaur, whatever it was, was right outside. Blue unconsciously held his breath, eyes as wide as the full night circle. He could see the other sniffing around them, letting it’s sniffer lead the way.

Then, as Blue felt his heart pounding against his chest, the dinosaur crept inside— finally making itself known. Blue’s body completely changed when he saw her; the green longtail whose yellow eyes glowed with a rage he’d never seen in anyone. He tried to get back, to put some more distance between them, but found he’d went as far as he could go.

He opened his mouth, but no words came out. Although he couldn’t find the words, a million thoughts were racing through his mind at that moment. That longtail... she’d tracked him all the way here. When he looked into her eyes, all he could see was someone who wanted nothing more in the world than to see him dead. He struggled to swallow the lump in his throat.

For the longest time, the longtail did nothing; just stared him down, as if she’d decided for herself that he was scum that didn’t deserve to live. Then, she growled four words that chilled him to the bone. "...I finally found you."


Haha, who remembers when I said I wouldn't take more than a month for the next chapter?  Well, here we are, 2 years later. I'd been super busy with real life stuff, so my interest for LBT died down for a while but I regained my motivation and will make an attempt to update regularly. 

After getting separated from her brother and losing her aunt, Indigo finds comfort in Nimble, who has also experienced significant loss in her life. Mila and Ronan finally clear the air about certain things and make it to the top of the mountain, where they meet up with Yariel. Meanwhile, Crim, who after losing her entire pack, is desperate for revenge. She follows Blue's scent, tracking him and finding him. What's next in store for our little biter friends? 

now for responses to reviews!

The Rhombus: Thank you very much for your kind words!  Chapter 5 was a behemoth, but I had a lot of fun writing it. I'm glad to hear that it was effective!


And with that, I hope to have the next chapter up sometime within the next month or so, (hopefully, lol) Hope you all have a good week!  -Jassy

[rhombus]

It is quite the pleasant surprise to see the continuation of this story after so long.  Though I hope that you can forgive me for my delay in reviewing this latest chapter. I had to refresh my recollection of previous events by re-reading the last several chapters.

In this chapter the part that most stuck out to me were the interactions between Nimble and Indigo. Now Nimble understands the full implications of what Indigo has gone through and why she is a lone little biter struggling in the world.  The mixture of compassion and annoyance on display from Nimble is quite understandable and, whether either of them realize it now, in a way they are kind of like a pack.  A pack of two.  Which, in itself, makes Blue's struggles all the more brutal as he is forced to face them alone and, perhaps, might meet his end alone as well...

As I said itwas a pleasant surprise to see this story updated.  I look forward to seeing what happened next.