It's been quite a while since we've updated this. Rhombus and I are both busy, but it's up to me to post finished chapters, so that's on me. I apologize for the readers who have waited this long of a time to see an update. The good news is that these updates will be much more frequent, probably around every two weeks or so. Work gets in the way of a lot, but at least I'm on a fairly normal schedule again.

Thank you guys for being patient with me. I hope you enjoy this next chapter. As always, leave us your thoughts with a review!

Chapter 8. Hot Shot Takes Flight

"For once you have tasted flight you will walk the earth with your eyes turned skywards, for there you have been and there you will long to return." -Leonardo da Vinci

"Now the red stuff is good…" Chomper briefly grew silent as he chewed his meal. "But you need to watch out for the other things. Well, except if you are my kind. We eat anything."

The others looked inside the dead flyer's abdomen with a mixture of morbid curiosity and mild hunger. Chomper obviously would have never shared this lesson with the gang in their leaf-eater days, and it would have felt wrong a mere week prior. But now they had accepted that there were certain things that they couldn't change.

Chomper pointed towards Littlefoot and Cera. "You two can eat whatever meat you want. But Ducky, Spike, you need to be a bit more picky."

"Why? What must we watch out for?" Ducky asked, confused.

Chomper raised a claw as if to say 'one moment' and then dug his head into the open abdomen. When his head reappeared several moments later he spat out a green blob.

"That is a Green Thing. I have no idea what it does, but almost no one likes it. We can eat it, but I wouldn't recommend it unless you are hungry." He then reached in with both claws and slowly rose what looked like a brown cloud which then promptly was dropped on Cera's feet with a resounding splat.

The former threehorn looked positively revolted, but not nearly as much as she would have before.

"My, my, what a lovely culture you have," she muttered.

Chomper laughed heartedly as he picked up the blob again. "This is very good and makes you full quicker, but Daddy says that it can make smaller biters sick." He looked at the blob for a few moments before he realized what he had said and frowned. The wounds of his parents absence had not yet healed.

"Thanks, Chomper" said Littlefoot, as he too caught what the purple biter had said. "Anything else you can tell us?"

We don't need a repeat performance after he found out they were dead

Chomper quickly looked at the body again. "Oh, yeah. Bones."

Ducky tilted her head. "Bones?"

The sharptooth nodded. "You shouldn't eat too much dead stuff, Ducky, as your kind likes fish. But this is a trick that is useful to know if you are hungry." He then promptly bit down on the bone until it shattered into two pieces. "Flyer bones are thin and easy to bite through..."

"I'm sure Petrie is glad he is missing this lesson." Cera deadpanned.

Chomper gave a slightly guilty look.

"I'm actually glad he's not here for this. Probably wouldn't be the best way to show him how to scavenge. Speaking of which, where is he anyway?"

"Getting fish for dinner." Littlefoot noted. "He can catch five in the time one of us could catch one."

"Well I certainly wish him luck," said Cera and she meant it too. "Any day we don't eat pushes us closer to hunger madness."

Spike nodded at this and gave a small grunt as if to say, "I don't want to experience that again."

Ruby came forward and looked up at the sky, slight concern in her youthful features.

"I just hope he gets the fish without attracting any unnecessary attention."

Ah, a red fish. These taste good!

Petrie allowed his wings to feel the air as he directed himself into the thermal. In the past he would have avoided flying high in the Mysterious Beyond out of fear of sharpbeaks, but the change seemed to have made something shift in the young flyer's mind.

He was a sharpbeak now. What need would he have to fear?

I mean sharptooth now. Me not so nervous anymore. Is that good thing? Or bad thing?

He shook his head. There was no time to dwell on that now. Ever since their mental breakdown the day they had suffered from hunger madness, they had all quietly accepted the eating of red food to survive. As opposed to being outright revolted by it, an indifference settled upon them. The fact that they had no choice had finally broken through to them.

With that in mind, they had to find nourishment in order to survive...at least until they could change back, and there was no telling how long that would take. Right now, if they could live on dead bodies and fish, it would be just enough to pull them through, but there was no guarantee of a meal in these parts. Which is why his fishing trip was so important. If they didn't eat as often as their bodies needed, they would be facing a repeat of two days earlier, which made him shudder.

Me never want to feel like that ever again. Too scary!

His eyes followed the red fish as it continued its journey. He had followed the thermal to its peak and now he was ready to make his dive. What had been something terrifying for his old self was now merely a way of life.

He fell without a sound.

Air burst against his flesh as he crumpled his wings to accelerate his dive. Now he was literally a living spear, tearing through the air like a Sky Stone.

Three.

He lifted his beak slightly in order to prepare for the eventual ascent from the dive. He knew that only a split second would separate victory from death.

Two.

He clinched the muscles in his breast. They would have to beat at the right moment for his wings to break his terminal assent.

One.

He opened his talons in preparation for the kill. Had he been thinking at this moment he would have realized that he now no longer felt as alive as he was when preparing for the kill.

Now!

With the efficiency that only came with instinct, he thrust his wings out, turning his descent into a sideways thrust, all of his momentum being shifted towards the horizon. Then, with the smell of moisture practically bathing his face, he thrust out his talons at the target.

He felt the recoil as the weight of the fish plowed into his talons. As soon as his ascent slowed into a crawl he knew that he was victorious. He had made his kill.

His victorious squawk broke through the air.

"Ha! Petrie get eight! Beat you, Ducky!"

Petrie smiled. Even though he and Ducky had both been successful in their alternating attempts to provide fish, a kind of competition had developed between the two. Though, if he had been asked, he could not tell you whether that was his new sharptooth instincts or his old playful nature.

He was having difficulty telling the two apart lately.

"Mine!"

Petrie lurched in the air as he felt suddenly lighter. That was when he saw the source of his misfortune.

Another sharptooth flyer - and it had his fish!

Then another swooped down, and then another, then another! Petrie was so overwhelmed by the barrage that soon he was tumbling through the air. And soon enough, his talons were empty of his catch.

He could hear the other sharptooth flyers laughing as one called out, "Sucker!"

"You… you thieves!" Petrie was so flustered he couldn't even think of an insult. Had he been thinking sensibly then he might have counted his losses and returned to his fishing, but he was done thinking sensibly. Someone had taken his kill… and they were going to pay.

He pumped his wings as he aimed his beak at the insufferable flyers. He didn't know what he would do when he caught them; he could think of that later. Right now all that mattered was speed.

But the rival flyers were equally as fast and elusive. Not only that, but they were rather obnoxious.

"Missed me!" one yelled out, as Petrie whiffed catching him with his talons.

The others roared with laughter.

"We got ourselves a land hugger, boys!"

And they continued to evade him, much to Petrie's chagrin.

Petrie roared in frustration as his tormentors continued to escape his slashes. He was no longer aiming to maim, but rather was going for the kill. That was when he had an idea.

The river bank… hmmm….

He continued to pretend to strike at the small flyers as he aimed towards the land. He was about to show these land-huggers how dangerous he could be.

As the smaller sharpbeaks tried to go off into another direction with his meal, he cut them off with his wings. When they tried another maneuver, he cut them off again. Though his challengers didn't realize it, he was slowly herding them towards a canyon wall up above the river bank where they would have less room to move. And when they ran out of space...lights out.

Just a little further

The flyers did eventually realize what he was doing, but not until it was too late. Soaring above them, near the canyon wall, Petrie suddenly dove with all the speed he could muster, jaws wide open, ready to smite those who took his meal.

They only just out of the way in time, as the one who appeared to be the leader made a sharp warning call at the last minute. Petrie's jaws and talons missed one of them by mere inches. But his strategy had the desired effect. The fish stealers were landing on the bank. Perhaps they were preparing for a battle, but upon closer inspection, they were still as cocky and loose as ever.

"You no steal from Petrie without a fight!"

Petrie amazed himself at his own bravery. He certainly would not have done this as a leaf eater.

But his rivals did not appear to share the same feelings.

"Will you look at that boys? A tough guy. But he's not getting any fish tonight!" said a blue colored one who looked to be the leader of the troop.

"I know something else he can take a bite out of though," an orange one said, shaking his rear end straight at Petrie. The rest of the group roared with screeching laughter.

"Me see you have face only mother love." Petrie quipped at the display.

The others went 'oooooo' in unison at the jest, but still were unfazed.

"His wit is sharper than his beak," the orange one retorted.

"Yeah but what's wrong with the way he talks?"

"Me thinks your momma dropped you on your head too many times," another said mockingly, cueing more crude laughter.

"Says flyer who nearly eat my claws…" Petrie cliched his talon for effect. He had survived living with eight difficult siblings for years and he was not going to let these peons get the best of him. "You either very stupid or very bored."

The conversation then a took a more serious turn.

"We're smart, that's what we are," said the blue colored leader. "Why struggle to kill for a meal when you can take it from a chump?" he added with a smirk.

"What your name?" Petrie asked sternly.

"I'm not in the habit of giving my name to any nimrod with wings," he replied coolly. The others nodded behind him. These were clearly a tougher bunch than he originally thought.

Petrie should have backed off at this point. His leaf eater self would have fled long ago. But at this point he was too far invested to back away. They had challenged his honor.

"Do these wing-for-brains follow you because they earn respect, or because they only ones stupid enough to follow?" Petrie retorted coldly.

"They follow me because we ain't got another choice," the leader replied. "I'll put this in a way you can understand. This is our catch. Now beat it, or you won't like what happens next," he added with a growl.

"Me bet the reason you steal from others is because you no good at fishing." Petrie muttered as he considered how to make his escape. He did not trust turning his back on these flyers, but maybe he could keep this idiot talking until an opening appeared. With that in mind he decided to boast to get a reaction from his tormentors. "Me better at fishing than all you combined!"

This caught the rival flyers' attention, but rather than attacking him they visibly stood down, which slightly surprised Petrie.

"Oh really? I'd like to see that wiseguy," said the blue leader, crossing his wings. "In fact I'll do you one better. You catch six fish with one strike, and I'll give you everything we took from ya. Deal?"

Petrie spoke before his mind even registered what he had agreed to. "Deal!"

A tiny smirk formed on the blue flyer's beak.

"Your move then, hotshot."

Petrie paused for a moment as the reality of what he had just agreed to sank in. He resisted the urge to express shock at his mistake, however. He would not dare express that in front of these fish-stealers. Instead he simply took off into the air, letting the wind help calm his thoughts. One thought did not dissipate, however.

Stupid Petrie! Why me agree to this?

As Petrie flew off he had no idea that his opponent was having misgivings of his own.

Time to see what our hotshot is made of, the blue leader thought to himself as the challenger flew off into the air.

In the majesty of the clouds all problems seem small. This had been one of Petrie's life lessons that he had learned early on, but even as he flew by them the enormity of the task before him did not seem any less significant. He hd only been catching fish for a little over a week, and flying in this new body for about the same amount of time. Now he would have to somehow perform a feat that would even impress those who had been sharpbeaks for all of their lives.

"Well, we're waiting, peckerwood!" called up the orange flyer, while the others laughed.

Well, me could just go away… get fish somewhere else… and get it to friends.

Petrie's ascent suddenly slowed as he spun away from the thermal he was riding. No… no he would not take the coward's way out. This possibility clawed at him in a way that he had never experienced before. His honor… his reputation… for some reason they meant more to him now that anything else. In his mind he knew this was because of the change, but he still didn't care.

He glared at the distant speck that was the orange flyer for a moment. He had every desire to kill him earlier, which would have doomed him for life to be a sharptooth flyer, but yet that had not even registered in his mind. But now that he was among the clouds he realized just how far he had gone… and how much he had nearly lost.

Me must be in control. Me must not let them get in Petrie's head!

He glanced at the stream just then, staring at the multitude of currents that called to his agile eyes. There were hundreds of fish in the stream, but they were practically useless to him. He had to swoop down and get six fish in one strike. It did not take long for him to deduce that was impossible.

"Hey don't drag this out too much, my wings are starting to shrivel up!" one of them called out as he passed by.

Petrie gritted his beak at the distant laughter as he flew down once more to get a better view of the stream and its surroundings. These fiends would not get to him. There had to be some way to get what he needed…

That was when he saw it.

The currents of the water called to him it seemed as his gaze fell upon the most odd fish. It was not moving like the others were, darting to and fro, no… this one moved with purpose. It was edging towards the shallows where the smaller fish resided and then…

It eating other fish! Petrie nearly forgot what he was doing as he quickly crumpled his wing in order to fall into another thermal. He had to maintain his focus on this most unusual specimen. It only took him a few more moments to spot it in action once more.

It get another fish! Petrie watched transfixed as it proceeded to swallow multiple members of a school of fish. His excitement at this possibility, of catching many fish at once, was tempered by another thought however.

How was he supposed to catch this thing?

The blue flyer was not impressed with what he saw so far. This jackoff, whoever he was, had merely flew around in circles, skimming the edge of the water but not even making so much as an attempt at the fish he knew were swimming below.

But that was nothing compared to what he saw next. The brown colored sharpbeak landed on top of the water and then proceeded to flap his wings against the surface, as though he were drowning.

That ain't right. Every flyer, even the green food ones, knows how to float on water. What's this guy think he's doing?

Just then, the rest of his posse started pointing at the river in excitement.

"Just what are you morons squawking about?" he asked in minor annoyance.

"Look, boss! There's a belly dragger headed towards that guy in the water!"

He turned to look for himself, and sure enough a massive green colored monster was swimming with evil intent right towards their challenger.

This outta be good.

Petrie continued to flap his wings against the water below him, which looked like an azure sky due to the reflection. He could almost imagine that he was flying. But flying was not on his mind at the moment.

The elusive fish was.

Come closer, you stupid swimmer! Petrie can't drag you to land, you have to come to Petrie!

He had been flapping against the still water for the better part of a minute at this point, but the fish did not seem to want to commit to coming closer to shore. With each moment that passed Petrie felt his hope of success begin to fade. Would he have to leave in disgrace?

That was when the large predatory fish suddenly went from darting back and forth to charging full speed towards the flyer. His patience had paid off.

That right! Come to Petrie!

The scales on the fish gleamed in the water like teeth in the mouth of a shark, as its body barrelled through the water like a flyer in the wind. Petrie only had a few moments to prepare himself for his attack.

Me only get one chance at this…

He continued flapping his wings against the water, but he slowed his strokes. He would soon have to thrust with all of his might to soar from the shallow water. His wings could make contact with the ground below the waterline, but he knew that it would be difficult to get the force necessary. This fish was a monster.

Three…

Petrie edged his beak closer to the water in preparation for the catch.

Two….

He placed all of his weight onto his wings as he prepared himself to the coming burden.

One…

He opened his talons. It was time.

Now!

In a flurry of movement, Petrie thrust his wings with all of his might as his body rose from the water with a tremendous splash. At the same time he impaled the predatory fish with his talons, instantly feeling the weight of ten fish threatening to drag him back into the water. He barely had time to thrust his wings once more before the water around him exploded into chaos.

Red hide and ferocious teeth arose from the azure water as if the stream had decided to catch a meal of her own. In a mixture of terror and confusion, Petrie simply acting out of instinct. With a final thrust of his wings he lurched his body to the left, barely avoiding the closing jaws of the monster from the deep. Then, before the bellygragger could respond, he blindly kicked with his legs, hitting the bellydragger in the nose and propelling him forward into an uncontrolled spin.

The last thing Petrie saw before the ground came up to meet him was the wide eyes of a surprised orange flyer.

The blue flyer could only watch with mild amusement as the brown sharpbeak barreled onto the shore, the fish he was carrying smacking straight into his second in command. The others proceeded to laugh heartily.

"This guy's alright!"

"That was insane!"

"How'd he do that?"

He stepped forward and helped his lieutenant back on his feet.

"Son of a f-"

"Relax, Luca. You've taken worse than a little fish tail to the face."

The others continued to snicker.

"Fish tail? Did you see the size of that damn thing? Nearly took my head off!"

He gestured for Luca to remain silent, knowing his friend's tendency for exaggeration. Besides, there was more pressing business to attend to.

He flew over to the spot where the brown flyer had landed, who was shaking his head in an odd fashion in order to regain his bearings. The fish he had caught, and it was more massive than he had previously realized, lay beside him.

When the rival had finally gotten back on his talons, he addressed him. Only this time, there was no indication of mockery or insult.

"Impressive, hotshot. But that's still only one fish. That ain't enough no matter how big it is."

Petrie shook his head to regain his bearings, as he slowly rose to an upright position again. It was only then that the reality of what had just happened registered in his mind.

"Did you hear me, wiseguy? You lost the deal. I think it's best you get outta here."

Petrie laughed as he looked at the fish. He looked as if he were going to rip open the fish for a moment before he hesitated and turned back at the speaker. "Are you going to make me, Mr. No Name?"

"Unless you somehow can conjure five more fish, yeah I am," the blue flyer replied simply.

Petrie was laughing hysterically now, amazed by the absurdity of it all. "So you see flyer that is not afraid of bellydragger, but you still try to scare him? Not a good plan, Mr. No Name."

Shaking his head once more, Petrie brought his talons down upon the side of the massive fish, which was nearly half his size. Then, with a sudden flap of the wings and a lurch forward, he allowed the contents of the still gasping fish's insides to erupt in front of the flyer.

"Me can give you six reasons why you lose."

Utterly shocked, the group didn't even register the free meal that laid before them. They could only look at it in amazement, and then slowly back up to the sharpbeak in front of them.

"Who are you?" the blue one asked.

"Me asked first. And me won bet. You tell me your name, me tell you mine."

The blue leader spoke, a hint of respect now in his posture.

"My name is Valo. The one you smacked in the face with that fish is Luca. And these are the rest of my pals."

Each one nodded or gave a small 'How you doin?' as a form of greeting.

"And I gotta tell ya, that was one hell of a catch. But what I didn't catch was your name."

"My name Petrie," he responded.

"Well, Petrie," Valo said slowly. "Here's the fish we took from ya." He plopped the former kill down in front of him. "A bet's a bet."

Petrie examined the fish wistfully. He had achieved his goal and defended his honor, but now that the chaos was over he was confused by his emotions. The old him would never have acted this way. The old him would have made friends instead of new enemies. The old him…

"Me share this with you if you help me get rest of fish to my friends."

For a split second, he didn't know how the group would react, given how hostile they had been initially. Come to think of it, he couldn't be certain that sharpteeth of any kind typically shared food. But his initial doubts were alleviated, when Valo gestured to his group to start carrying the kill back to their resting area.

"Lead the way, hotshot."

"It Petrie."

"It's a nickname, hotshot. Everyone here's got one, including me. Thought you could use one yourself."

Petrie widened an eye at this but otherwise didn't object. In fact, a part of him felt oddly satisfied at having been accepted by this group and their leader. Clearly, his stunt had worked out better than he hoped.

The fish took awhile to divide among them, but there was more than enough for all. As they took off into the sky, Valo spoke to Petrie once more.

"Hey, hotshot. What you did back there took guts. I admire that. You ever need something, don't hesitate to ask. I don't ever forget a favor."

Petrie looked down at the site where he had nearly died, and watched as the bellydragger continued her patrol in the water's depths.

"As long as it doesn't involve those things," Valo added with a small laugh.

Petrie returned the laugh, and together they flew back towards his friends. It had been quite a series of events, but hunger had been averted for another day. That's all that mattered at this point.

After the meal:

After he had consumed his fill of the refreshing water, Littlefoot allowed himself to look at his reflection for a few moments. It almost disturbed him how much his new reflection felt like him - as if he had always been that way.

"Are you trying to offer yourself up to that bellydragger Petrie was talking about?" a familiar voice said behind him.

He gave a small smile and turned to face Cera.

"You know as well as I do there's none of those things in this river."

"I know, but it's still fun to try and make you think there are." The orange tyrannosaurus answered with amusement as she too began to drink from the river.

"So where are the others?" Littlefoot asked as soon as she was done.

"Back at the lookout, setting down for the night," Cera replied simply. "Spike nearly ate himself sick."

"Some things never change, do they?" laughed Littlefoot.

"Some things have changed too much," Cera replied in a non plussed tone.

Littlefoot paused for a moment as he considered her words. "Do you… do you feel different, Cera?"

"How could I not? All I can eat is food that previously would have made me vomit, I walk on two legs, I can't communicate with any leaf eater, and on top of that, I have no horn anymore. That probably feels the most strange out of everything. But at the same time…"

"No…" Littlefoot waved his small arms as if trying to think of the right words, a gesture that itself would had been impossible weeks prior, "I mean… All of this…is it starting to feel normal?"

"Littlefoot, are you crazy? I think you're mistaking that for the fact that you're just used to it. But you can't honestly say you feel better like this, those rainbowfaces said we could change back remember?"

Littlefoot nodded in agreement. "I'm not saying that it's better this way, but… what if we can't change back?" He looked down for a moment. "This should feel wronger than it does. I mean… we are eating red food, for crying out loud!"

"We've been over this," Cera said firmly. "We didn't kill that longneck. We haven't killed any dinosaur thus far, even though there were certainly opportunities to do so," she looked back towards the hideout, Ruby's scent drifting towards them as an ominous reminder of what could have happened had they not found the corpse.

"This is harder than anything we've experienced by far," she added. "But we've made it to this point. And you're still you, Littlefoot. Make no mistake about that."

Littlefoot grew silent for several moments as he took in her resolute words. Eventually he sat back and looked up at the sky. Soon the stars would be up as the Bright Circle lingered on in the daily battle that it always lost.

"I wish our families could talk to us. All I have is what my heart whispers… and I don't know what it is saying anymore."

"I try to remember my dad when I feel everything is hopeless," Cera said. "My heart whispers to me what he would say. When life gets tough, you gotta get tougher. He's my inspiration. And I think I can guess yours."

"When the night is dark, and the stars are bright I can almost still hear her." Littlefoot spoke distantly. "I know that she is watching, but I think she would be as lost as us."

"Just remember what I told you the other day," the former threehorn said in a soft tone she rarely used. "You're not betraying her by doing what you're doing right now. Okay?"

Littlefoot nodded as he continued to watch for the first hints of starlight. He knew that it would come sooner now with his improved eyes. "What do you think our families are doing right now?"

"Who knows?" Cera shrugged. "I would do anything to see them again. But at the same time, I'm not sure I want them to see us like this."

Littlefoot could sympathize with that sentiment. But in this wasteland, the warming memories of the valley caused his heart to ache.

"Perhaps they could find a way to find us? Maybe convince the other members of the valley we're not dangerous?"

Cera scoffed loudly.

"You may not be a flathead anymore, Littlefoot, but you're still as naive as ever sometimes. You said it yourself, we're a threat no matter where we go. If we can't stay with Ruby's family, how can we stay with our own?"

Littlefoot looked down. "I don't even want to know what my Dad will think...or Shorty."

"Well hopefully we don't run into them out here," Cera gave an ironic harsh laugh.

"Have you been living beneath a rock, Cera? Not even a buzzard could live in this place."

"As a matter of fact I have," she shot back. "That big one over there, same as you."

He could only give a chuckle in response. Cera always did have a way with words.

But that was when something else slid into his thoughts. An open wound that, though treated, still remained.

"At least we still have families, even if we can't see them. But I worry about Chomper. I guess that we are all that he has left now."

"You two still seem a bit...cautious around each other. Maybe you should talk to him again? If we're gonna survive out here, we need you and him to get along."

"Who knew you could be such a pragmatist, Cera?"

"Hmmph!" she said in a huff. But then something happened that she did not expect, and she felt a nuzzle graze the side of her snout. One which she slowly returned.

"You're right of course," he said softly. "Don't worry, I'll talk to him. He's been through as much as the rest of us have."

Giving him another nuzzle, the two sharpteeth felt mutually thankful for the other's company in a dark and difficult time. Even now, they were still best friends, and as always, it was left unsaid. Something like that didn't need to be spoken.

"Well, I suppose we should go back," Littlefoot said as the moment passed.

"Yeah, you're right. The others will almost be asleep."

Turning away from the stream, the took once last glance at the stars above, memories and dreams of their families twinkled at them in the darkness that had now enveloped the land. If they had nothing else, they still had one another.

After all, what was important than family?

Hope you guys are enjoying it so far! Updates will be more frequent from now on.

~TheWasp