Pangaea couldn’t help but smile in relief when Ozzy indicated his agreement to hear out his idea. “Oh, thank goodness. I knew you two were smart enough to make the right choice.” A little flattery with dinosaurs like these two never hurts, he slyly added mentally.
“So, um, first of all, what’s happened with you two since we last ran into each other? Any luck getting any eggs?”
“Not one,” Ozzy grumbled.
Pangaea sighed in relief. Catching a scathing glare from Ozzy, he hastily continued. “Uh…I mean, that’s good news for you, really! If you haven’t actually harmed anyone’s eggs, then technically the valley dinosaurs can only blame you for attempted eggnapping.” Pangaea wasn’t sure if that would make much difference to someone like Mr. Threehorn, but he was desperate to grasp at any straw he could to convince the egg stealers to agree to what he was planning.
“And that helps us how?” Ozzy inquired skeptically, crossing his arms. “What, do you plan on taking us before a council of the valley leafeaters and pleading our innocence?”
“No, nothing like that,” Pangaea said. “I will have to talk to the leafeaters at some point, but I’d rather keep you guys out of it as much as possible. Besides, this is about you two finding enough food. The valley dinosaurs won’t tolerate you eating eggs here.”
“Does this plan of yours involve telling us something we don’t know?” Ozzy snapped.
“What if I told you that I could show you a place with a huge supply of eggs and other things for you guys to eat that no one would try to stop you from taking?”
The change in Ozzy’s expression was instantaneous. He blinked, as if he were doing a mental double take. Clearly Pangaea had his attention. “Go on,” he said slowly.
“You ever hear of a place called the Big Water? I haven’t technically been there before myself…not this one, anyway…it’s hard to explain…but I’m very familiar with it, you see, and I know that there are certain places along its shores where creatures crawl out to lay their eggs, and then just leave them there to hatch. They don’t guard their nests or anything. As far as I know, the parents don’t care if their eggs get eaten, because they don’t get attached to them to their eggs the way dinosaurs do. They just lay a lot of them and hope for the best. It’s an egg stealer’s paradise.”
He continued. “And if you can’t find any eggs, there’s a whole lot of other things to eat along the edge of the Big Water. A lot of them are in shells, just like eggs, and while they’re a lot harder to crack open, I think even you would like them, Ozzy. My plan is to take you guys to the Big Water, so that you’ll have all the food you need, the valley dinosaurs can live in peace, and no one will be chasing you around every time you try to get a bite to eat. It’s a win-win solution! So, whaddaya say?”
Ozzy and Strut’s mouths had long begun to water, and for once Ozzy actually looked quite thoughtful. “I’m surprised I’m saying this,” he finally said, “but I like the sound of this idea of yours.”
“We’re in!” Strut piped eagerly. “When do we leave?”
Ozzy moved as if to smack his brother, but apparently decided it wasn’t worth the trouble. “All right,” he said to Pangaea. “We’ll go with you to this fantastic place of yours.”
“Great!” Pangaea grinned.
“If it really exists,” Ozzy warned. “Because if you’re trying to trick us, mark my words, you’ll regret it.”
Pangaea swallowed anxiously. Inwardly, he knew he was making a gamble. He was certain that somewhere, at some time, along the coast of the Mesozoic sea, sea turtles would drag themselves ashore to deposit hundreds of eggs in the sand. The problem was, he had no idea if that time was now, or if that place was anywhere near the stretches of shoreline the gang had visited in the LBT movies; the ones that were reachable via a few days’ trek from the Great Valley. But he didn’t want to tell the egg stealers of these uncertainties, for fear that they would change their minds about following him. He hoped that the others would find him soon, so that he wouldn’t have to lead the egg stealers to the Big Water by himself; he didn’t want to be alone if things got ugly.
Pangaea didn’t expect his hopes to be fulfilled so punctually.
“Pangaea, there you are!” came a voice from the trees. “We’ve been looking for you everyóGYAAH!”
As the glider and egg stealers frantically swiveled their heads to locate the source of the voice, a crash sounded from a nearby bush. Three pairs of eyes snapped to the opthalmoceptive target of disturbed foliage to see a small, disheveled lump of teal feathers scoot to a stop on the ground in front of the undergrowth it had just plowed through. Of the three in the clearing, only Pangaea was familiar enough with the interloper and his species to realize that he must have intended for a more graceful landing, but upon noticing the company his burgundy buddy was keeping, had been so alarmed that he lost control of his descent, hence the Microraptor-shaped groove he had just ground into the forest floor.
“Hey, it’s another Gooey!” Strut observed with interest.
Guido dazedly staggered to his feet. He looked considerably worse for wear after his two-tier impact on earth and understory, but as soon as his walleyed pupils realigned themselves and settled on the two egg stealers standing over his friend, he snapped to panicked attention.
“Aah!” he squawked. “Pangaea, look out! The egg stealers are right behind you!”
Assuming the worst was about to happen, Guido frantically looked around for something to use as a weapon, his eyes coming to rest on a reasonably brittle-looking, but sharp, dead branch. He hurriedly seized it and attempted to wrench it from the tree. The task took several seconds longer than what should have been practical, and the section that snapped off was decidedly smaller than intimidating. Undeterred, Guido spun to face the egg stealers, striking a fighting stance. He whipped the stick out like a rapier, pointing it at Ozzy.
“I–I’m warning you…” he stammered, “You lay one claw on Pangaea, and you’ll…you’ll answer to me!”
Ozzy took one look at the tiny green glider and his pathetically feeble weapon, and turned to Pangaea with a look on his face that rendered words superfluous. Is this guy for real?
Pangaea sighed. “Ozzy, Strut, this is my friend Guido.” He stepped closer to the younger glider, put a hand on his shoulder, and eased down the hand wielding his improvised sword (which was quivering almost as much as its bearer). “It’s okay, Guido,” he said. “They’re…well, I suppose ëfriends’ might be a bit of a stretch, but they aren’t going to hurt us. I’ve talked to them, and they’re willing to cooperate.”
