End of the Trail

The sounds of the forest greeted the rising Bright Circle as they had every day before, and once more brought with them a new day of agony for the female Fast Biter who lay curled under a tree, shivering. Every night her sleep stories forced her to relive the moment she lost her Alpha; that terrible crunch, the blood-covered foot of the Clubtail, and Left's death shortly thereafter at the jaws of the Bellydragger- all of these things, or rather fragments of them, returned to her whenever she closed her eyes. The first night, she'd tried to stay awake, to keep moving towards the nest, but sleep was unavoidable. Eventually her steps slowed, her eyelids grew heavy, and she was forced to endure the torment of rest, and the memories it brought with it.

As she came to, Rear mumbled yet another goodbye to Alpha; the dreams were unpleasant, but it was the only way she'd ever be able to see him again. As such, she'd come to respect them for what they were- one fleeting chance to remember.

The Fast Biter picked herself up slowly, putting her strong hind legs forward and balancing with her shorter than average forelimbs as she pushed herself away from the soft ground, reluctantly welcoming the aches in her body that proved she, and she alone, was alive. A drop of morning dew fell from the leaves above, landing on her snout. She wrinkled her face at the cold, wet surprise, a light sneeze escaping her, and took in a few breaths of the fresh morning air, going over her plan. It had been just over a week since she lost Alpha, and with the pace she'd been setting, she was likely far ahead of the treacherous Clubtail and his herd. Indeed, she could see the tall, mist-shrouded mountains at times through the trees around her. Those, she knew, where what the leaf-eaters were traveling towards, but before they reached it, they'd have to pass through the Bonefields; her destination and the location of her greater pack's nest. Fast Biters in the forest developed their own packs, but they'd quickly come to realize that a small community, where the packs could come to share a meal or pick up new members, was extremely useful. It was here she would find Alpha Superior, relay the news of her pack's demise, and try to curry favor for one last attack on the leaf-eaters.

A rumbling from her stomach made Rear realize how long it had been since she last ate. The Frillneck had been her last meal, and it had been days since that. Before she moved on, she would need some sort of sustenance. She closed her mouth and eyes, taking in the morning setting exclusively through her sensitive nostrils and ears. The smell of leaves and grass was thick, but she was used to it, able to sift through the multitude of confusing scents and pick out the important ones easily.

The smell of dead Scaly Swimmers was one of the most prominent scents she picked up; it was likely that she was close to the river again. While her kind was certainly capable of eating them, she decided to pass. Spinebacks were probably already up and about, and it wasn't worth chancing an encounter with them for a measly Scaly Swimmer. She'd never cared for the taste anyway.

A second smell led her over to a cluster of nearby bushes, and she pushed her muzzle in, breathing deeply. Suddenly, a small brown form shot out of the underbrush, grazing past her toes as it scurried on its way. A Ground Fuzzy. Well, it wasn't a full meal, but it was better than nothing. Rear turned around, dashing after the little creature, her feet touching the forest floor lightly enough to barely stir the grass. Her prey cut to the right, diving down a short little incline, but Rear was already prepared, crouching down and leaping, using the incline to gain some height on her jump. She came down hard, just as predicted, directly into the path of the Ground Fuzzy. With one swift kick, the little animal's spine was snapped, impaled by her killing claw. Calmly, Rear retracted her claw, letting the lifeless form slump to the ground as she caught her breath. She was doing that more and more recently, she realized. Food would help, but she needed rest; these short little dashes were actually starting to take their toll.

As she bent down to eat her well-earned treat, a smell caught her attention. The base scent was familiar, a Fast Biter, and for a moment she held a glimmer of hope, but as she investigated further, she noticed that the modifiers were all wrong. This was someone from another pack, a male, and he was close.

Rear focused on the smell, using its varying intensities to give her a direction to the source. She never moved her head; if the source of the smell was stalking her, it was better not to let him know she'd detected him. Calmly she waited, scanning for minute details now. The snap of a twig, the rustle of a leaf or two… all of these combined told her someone was close. There was just one more thing…

There. The telltale pop of a limb flexing. Rear ducked, rolling away as a mottled green Fast Biter lunged out of the bushes toward her. Unprepared for the maneuver, he clumsily tried to right himself as he landed where he'd expected a Fast Biter to be. Rear wasted no time. Using his shaky balance to her advantage, she lunged forward, toppling him and pinning him with her foot. The gleaming killing claw was back out again, and when he saw it, as well as who he'd just been bested by, the Fast Biter's face registered simultaneous relief and confusion.

Rear? he croaked.

Rear nodded. She recognized this one- a young male from the greater pack. When she and the rest of Alpha's pack left for their year-long hunt, he'd been a simple nest guard. Evidently he hadn't moved up much in the world. His confusion was understandable; she wasn't supposed to return until the Cold Time set in. Curiously, the male inquired as to the whereabouts of the rest of the pack, and snuck in a request for Rear to remove her foot from his chest. Rear refused to give any details of the tragedy that had befallen her pack, and declined his request to release him until he promised to take her to the nest. While she hadn't explicitly said why, the absence of the others started to add up to the male, and his face began to betray his worry. He agreed to take Rear to the nest, and grudgingly, she released her foothold on him. Warily the young Fast Biter got to his feet, loping off in the direction he'd come from. Rear followed, already going over what she planned to say. Superior was more than just another Alpha- words with him had to be measured, precise, and brief. She'd seen him gut another Fast Biter with barely a blink after he confessed to failing a simple hunt and losing just one pack member. She'd lost all three, but there was a chance to redeem herself. At least they knew where the leaf eaters were headed. With trepidation, she proceeded ahead, hoping what little she had to go on would be enough to keep her alive in front of Alpha Superior. At this point, revenge was secondary. Survival was first.

"Breakfast break!"

Zaura glared back at her brother, a smile far too cheesy for his own good plastered across his face as he ogled a nearby tree filled with brightly-colored little orbs.

"Fyn, we just had a breakfast break. Right before we started walking, remember?"

The four dinosaurs had woken early that morning, spurred on by the ever-closer mountains to continue their journey, but it was Zaura who'd woken first, as usual. Her "breakfast break" consisted of a few choice shrubs near their clearing, and by the time everyone else woke up, she was already pushing them to get moving. Breakfast, as it turned out, had been cut quite short indeed.

"Well Sol didn't have the chance to… what was it you called it?" he asked turning to the Sharptooth who was ambling along next to him.

"Fishing," Sol said, matter-of-factly.

"Right, fishing," Fyn nodded, "that's how he gets his food, Zaura. You don't want him to starve, do you?

Keeping their resident Sharptooth fed wasn't exactly on top of Zaura's priorities, and besides- she knew exactly why Fyn had stopped.

"It's the tree sweets, isn't it?" she groaned.

"...yes?"

Zaura moaned and rolled her eyes. That was Fyn- one moment he was trying to keep his head above water in a world that only wanted to kill him in as many creative ways as possible, and the next he was trying to find out what the next good meal might be. If there was one thing the Mysterious Beyond hadn't been able to kill, it was his palette. Now that he was at least somewhat accustomed to life out here, he was finding new plants to try around every corner. With some reluctance, Zaura admitted to herself that the tree sweets did look tempting…

Hanging her head in defeat, she turned around and addressed the other three.

"Fyn, it's your call. If you want the tree sweets so bad, we'll stop. I just think we need to keep moving forward if we want to catch up to Rachi."

"And we will," Fyn mumbled through a mouth already full of succulent orange tree sweet flesh, "right after this. Remember- Rachi's herd needs breaks, too."

Sol held up an inquisitive claw, timidly speaking "so does that mean I can-?"

Zaura dismissed him with a nod and a grunt. Sol scooted off in the direction of the river, trying his best to hide his giddiness and failing spectacularly. She turned to Lyko, who had been occupying the back of the "herd," his usual place. The Clubtail was gazing fixedly at a large rocky ledge overlooking the river, in full view of the rising Bright Circle.

"Lyko?" she asked hesitantly, "you're welcome to some food if you want."

Lyko grunted, ambling off towards the rocks, mumbling, "I'll be resting. Call me when we're ready to go."

The Clubtail had been silent for the past few days, only speaking when spoken to. Zaura wasn't sure what was going on, but when she'd brought up the topic with Fyn, he'd simply dismissed it, saying "he'll probably tell us if it's a problem. He's a very forward dinosaur." Zaura wasn't so sure. These days he was falling behind a lot, and often becoming distracted or lost in thought. It was becoming less of a minor annoyance and more of a problem, given the ground they had to cover.

"Zaura, come try these! They're delicious!"

Biting the inside of her mouth to conceal the smile that was forming, Zaura approached Fyn, who was eagerly tugging at another branch. Lyko could wait- right now she got the impression that he simply wanted to be alone. Perhaps some quiet reflection was all he needed.

"Yep, that's the perfect image of the stoic and powerful herd leader right there," Zaura quipped as Fyn's incessant tugging resulted in the branch detaching with a loud "crack," and Fyn falling straight down onto the sand.

"You keep saying that," Fyn said, teeth working on the chewy branch in his mouth, "but you've been in the front this whole time. I'm just keeping an eye on Sol and Lyko."

"And yet I listen to you when you tell me where to go," Zaura said as she carefully picked one of the tree sweets between her teeth. She bit down, puncturing the rough, tasteless skin and was pleasantly surprised as a gush of sweet juice filled her mouth. Fyn was right: these were pretty good.

"No," Fyn corrected Zaura as he pulled himself back up, poking his nose in between the trees to see what other savory treasures he might find, "you listen to me because you won't listen to Sol."

"He's a Sharptooth," Zaura dismissed, "of course I don't listen to him."

Deeper within the trees, growing low on a bush was an assortment of cylindrical red and orange tree sweets that caught Fyn's eye. These were new- he'd never seen such large sweets growing so close to the ground before.

"So… that's it? He's a Sharptooth who, mind you, only eats Scaly Swimmers, and that's why you don't trust him? I mean when you say it aloud, it kind of sounds a little… shallow, doesn't it?"

The only response Fyn got was an annoyed silence, followed by the sound of a branch snapping back. Fine, then. If Zaura was going to be evasive, then so be it. Eventually, though, she'd have to come to terms with her mistrust. It was quickly becoming clear that things weren't so black and white out here in the Beyond. Sol was living proof of that. And even despite the strategic advantage of having a Sharptooth on their side, Sol seemed like a good dinosaur, with a kind heart. Whether he was faking it or not, it was a relief to have someone with a little optimism on their side to brighten everyone up a bit.

Fyn bent down, grabbing one of the little cylindrical orange tree sweets in his teeth and plucking it from its bush. Taking care not to bite down, he presented it to Zaura, with a wink. His sister was unimpressed.

"And how do you know that thing's even going to be good?"

"I 'on't," Fyn said through his clenched teeth with a smile, "'ere 'oes!"

Making a show out of his taste test, Fyn tossed the tree sweet up into the air,opening his mouth wide to catch it. The sweet arced gracefully up into the air, rotating gently, then fell back down, straight onto Fyn's nose, where it rolled off and fell into the dirt. Zaura yawned. Sheepishly, Fyn picked it back up. The sweet was a little dusty, but hardly enough to alter the flavor too much. Resolving not to resort to showmanship this time, he simply bit down.

As he'd come to expect of tree sweets, the skin burst, flooding his mouth with the juice inside, but this juice was hardly what he'd anticipated. The second a single drop fell on his tongue, Fyn's mouth felt as if it had been set ablaze. He realized his mistake too late, as he finished his bite and swallowed the sweet (if one could even call it that anymore). On the way down his long neck, each moment was agony as the juices burned his throat with a bold flavor he'd never experienced in his life. His nostrils constricted, and his eyes bulged with panic at this unexpected turn of events. He began to cough and wheeze, and even Zaura looked concerned.

"Fyn? What's-"

"Water!" Fyn gasped, "I need water!"

In the river nearby, Sol was paying no heed to the commotion. A shiny shape heading downstream had caught his attention as it drifted on its course. It was a Scaly Swimmer, and one of the biggest ones he'd seen. This far upstream, such a sight was a great deal more common, but to Sol, who was used to the scraps, this was a treat, an opportunity to try some of the finer things in life. Patiently he waited, scarcely daring to breathe as the shiny shape drew nearer. Slowly, with measured speed, he drew his claw back, waiting for the opportune moment to strike.

He didn't hear the thundering footsteps until it was too late. The Longclaw struck downwards towards the water, but stopped, drawing his arm back as his field of vision was interrupted by a very distressed Longneck plunging his face into the river. Sol let out a cry of surprise, almost falling over as Fyn's impact wave crashed into him. The Scaly Swimmer, just as surprised, darted back upstream as fast as it could go, and Sol silently cursed the occasion. So close.

Just as Sol began to worry that Fyn might be drowning, the Longneck brought his head back up, panting.

"Oh… Five, I can still taste it!" he gasped, waggling his tongue around. Sol cocked his head to the side, confused.

"Taste what?"

Finally noticing Sol's somewhat displeased expression and the lack of Scaly Swimmers in the area, Fyn put two and two together.

"Oh," he mouthed, "er… sorry about that."

Sol dismissed the apology with a wave. "No worries, I already caught a few. What's up?"

From the trees, Zaura approached, shaking her head with a sly smile on her face, and Fyn sighed.

"Those were definitely not tree sweets," he concluded, "in fact I'd go as far as to say they're-" he paused, racking his brain for the proper term, "fire sweets. There, that's a good name for them. Fire sweets."

Despite his burning tongue, Fyn puffed his chest out a bit, feeling somewhat proud of himself, and a bit clever to boot. Not only that, but now that the heat was fading away, he found that the taste wasn't entirely unpleasant: very strong and flavorful.

"You know what?" he said, marching triumphantly past Zaura, "I think I'll have another."

"And I will set up farther upriver," Sol resolved, marching upstream against the current in search of somewhere a bit more isolated from the next round of head-dunking that was sure to occur. Zaura, meanwhile, turned to follow Fyn, admittedly a little curious about the new food. When they returned to the bush, Fyn grabbed another fire sweet, popping it again between his teeth. Once more the fiery juices flooded his mouth, but this time he was ready, and stood his ground. Zaura tried to suppress her laughter at Fyn's strained facial expressions, but failed, giggling wildly. Fyn swallowed the hot food, laughing a bit himself.

"Care to try one?" he offered to Zaura. His sister shook her head.

"No thanks. I'd rather not."

Leaving Fyn to his strange new obsession, Zaura looked back at the rock Lyko had been heading for. Sure enough, he was still there, basking in the day's glow and watching the others. His eyes never moved when they made contact with hers. Zaura offered up a little smile, but it was not returned. Lyko just continued to stare down at them. He looked thoughtful, sad even, and again she was reminded of how strangely he'd been behaving ever since they rescued him.

"Fyn," she elbowed her brother, "I think Lyko's not feeling well."

Fyn swallowed his third fire sweet, now thoroughly enraptured by the little treats. "Zaura, we've been over this. He's seen a lot- right now, he probably just wants to be left alone."

Zaura shook her head, "No, Fyn, I don't think that's it. Whatever he's dealing with, he's not working it out on his own. I think you should go talk to him."

"Why me?"

Glaring, Zaura replied "because you're our unofficial 'leader,' and it's your job to be responsible for the well being of all of us. That and… you know how I am with words."

"Better than you lead others to believe," Fyn mumbled under his breath. Zaura met this rebuke with a pointed glare.

"Garas wanted you to be a leader, Fyn, and so did Rachi. You'll never achieve that if you don't act like one."

Fyn looked up at the forlorn figure of Lyko, watching them. Perhaps he really did need help. In truth, he'd been mulling over the prospect of approaching him for the last few days, but hadn't worked up the courage to. Despite his loyalty, Lyko was nothing if not intimidating. Now Zaura was calling him out on it; there was nowhere left to run. He'd have to meet Lyko himself, or the situation was only going to get worse.

"Fine," he sighed, "I'll go. Make sure Sol's getting enough to eat- I don't want him hungry if we have to move away from the river for a while."

"Why do I have to-" Zaura stopped mid-argument. She was the only one left who could go check up on him. It made sense, but somehow she felt this was payback for sending Fyn off to talk to Lyko. Sol probably didn't need supervision anyway.

"Just do it," Fyn said as he left, "please?"

With a "humph," Zaura turned and headed for the river, where the Longclaw was still waiting for Scaly Swimmers to return to the site where, not so long ago, Fyn had made his dramatic entrance.

Fyn approached Lyko quietly, respectfully, from behind. The Clubtail knew he was coming, but still barely moved, save for the rise and fall of his sides as he breathed. Movement was painful, and right now all he could do was to try and minimize unnecessary motion as much as possible.

"Got a taste for the fire sweets, eh Fyn?" he chuckled, "that's a good name. Fits 'em nicely. They're kind of an acquired taste for most, but when you get past that burn, the flavor is to die for." Lyko barked out a loud, rattling cough, and his face contorted into a grimace. "Heh. Poor choice of words, I suppose."

Fyn said nothing, bending his knees and falling to a resting position just behind Lyko. The rock was warm, soothing, and the Bright Circle's light here was strong, but not harsh. Lyko had picked a good spot to rest. Down below, he could see Zaura approaching Sol, and farther downriver a group of flyers skimming the water for snacks. He could see everything; from up here, he felt in control. Lyko stirred.

"We on the move now, Fyn?"

Shaking his head, Fyn replied, "no, not yet." Unsure of what else to say, he kept his mouth shut. Lyko nodded.

"Alright, then I assume you have some other reason for being here, One as young as yourself can't possibly want to spend this little break basking, right?"

Lyko knew, or had at least a decent speculation of why Fyn was here, of course, but he wasn't about to be forthcoming. Not yet, anyway. The Sailneck's body language was pretty obvious: though he was making an effort to appear relaxed, the tension in his body, from the rigidity of his neck to his unmoving tail, betrayed caution and anxiety. He remembered the last time he'd seen this: on Rachi, after witnessing his first death in the Beyond. It was the final hurdle; the last barrier to break down before building up a new leader. Rachi hadn't received any help, and neither would Fyn. This was his own fight.

"Er… yeah," Fyn answered with a nervous little laugh. It was then that he finally saw Lyko's injured leg up close for the first time in days. It was an appalling sight: the hole hadn't healed at all. Where the muscle had been raw and pink, it was now darker, ringed with a yellowish crust that Fyn knew could be nothing but trouble. He wasn't getting better; this much was obvious.

"Lyko, your leg…"

The Clubtail dismissed the observation with a casual laugh. "Fyn, it's not bad. At least I can still walk on it, right?"

There was an undertone in the laugh; something the casual listener wouldn't have picked up on, but Fyn caught it. Uncertainty, fear. This wasn't the confident, noisy Lyko he'd met. Something was different, and not for the better.

"Right," he replied, "but- listen, are you okay? You've been acting strange recently: quieter than usual, like you've got something you want to say."

"I'm always quiet, Fyn," came the gruff reply. It was exactly the sort of response Fyn expected, but it wasn't what he was looking for. Swallowing his doubt, Fyn pressed harder.

"You are always quiet, but not like this. Please speak your mind."

Lyko remained silent.

"It's hurting our herd," Fyn continued. "Zaura and I have both noticed, and while Sol hasn't known you for long, I have a feeling he suspects something's up too. You're slowing us down, Lyko. And I don't think it's your leg that's behind it."

The last words he spoke were a risk, and Fyn knew this, but Lyko was sharp, deliberate, to the point. If subtlety and small talk weren't going to provoke a response, then he had no choice but to be blunt.

"So leave me behind."

Fyn shook his head. "Unacceptable. We both know that's not going to happen. You have a problem, and I'm here to fix it."

"Why did you rescue me?" Lyko interrupted, steering away from the topic at hand, "after everything I've said to you, all the torment I put you and your sister through, the way I treated you both when you joined the herd, you still decided to come back for me."

"Well we didn't know it was you-"

"You must've had some idea. You both know what a Clubtail sounds like, and there aren't many of us around here to my knowledge. You knew my leg would be a factor when you found me, and you still pulled me free at your own risk, against everything I ever told you. Why?"

Fyn was taken aback by Lyko's attitude. It was as if he'd reverted to his old, grumpy, punchy self again, despite the friendship Fyn thought he'd built with himself and Zaura. Something else was at work here.

"That's what friends do," he answered, simply. "We are friends… right?"

Lyko shifted uncomfortably. Fyn was making it hard to keep up the act; the Sailneck had a way with his words that made trying to maintain his front difficult.

"Try not to think that way," Lyko dismissed him, "if the last few days have been anything to go by, you should know by now that getting attached to anyone out here is a mistake. Death comes fast and without warning. Best to just keep to yourself."

"And is that why you distance yourself from us? Do you not believe we'll make it?"

Lyko groaned at the Sailneck's persistence. "No, Fyn, I believe you'll make it. Just not with me."

"Explain. Now."

Impressed by the forcefulness of Fyn's tone, Lyko got to his feet, despite the pain coursing through his leg.

"Look," he nodded to his wound, "does this look like a healthy, healing wound to you? Fyn, this leg is infected. I went almost half a day with a tree stump in it. If it hasn't started healing by now, it never will. Only thing that I can do is to wait. My days are numbered."

"So you're saying-"

"I'm saying I'm dying, Fyn. And there's nothing anyone can do to stop it."

Fyn stepped back, shocked. "Why didn't you tell any of us?"

For the first time that day, Lyko formed a genuine smile. "Because it gave you hope. You two pulled off a rescue-"

"Three" Fyn interjected.

"Three. You and the Sharptooth pulled off a rescue that few could've done successfully. You saved me, and you defeated two Sharpteeth to boot. Couldn't have gone much better than that. Who was I to tell you afterward that I was already a lost cause?"

Fyn struggled to keep his emotions in check, swallowing hard. There was a time to release, to speak his true mind, but here in front of Lyko was not that time.

"I- I don't understand," he stammered, "it's just your leg, right? We can fix that, I'm sure!"

Lyko grunted, "clearly you haven't seen an infection before. What you see on the surface has already spread to my insides. I'll just get sicker and sicker until I die."

There was no use pressing the issue. Lyko seemed convinced, and he had the experience to back himself up. Fyn knew he had no idea what a fatal infection looked like; he'd simply have to trust Lyko's word. That being said, leaving him behind was still out of the question. It simply wasn't right.

"Can you come with us?" he asked, trying a less direct approach, "I know you're hurt, and you've earned your rest, but maybe we can still finish this together. If nothing else, you'll get the chance to say goodbye to Rachi."

The words caused Lyko to pause for a moment, in reflection. He hadn't thought much about Rachi recently, but Fyn was right. The Longneck had done a lot for him ever since they'd met. He owed him some thanks. But his leg was getting harder and harder to walk on, and the terrain wasn't going to get any easier soon.

"I don't know…" he started.

"You said you were a fighter. Make this your last battle."

Lyko studied Fyn's face, searching for some kind of giveaway emotion. Was he really doing this for him, or did he just want the security of having a Clubtail around? Fyn's lack of expression reminded him a great deal of Rachi. His old leader could be just as much of an enigma sometimes.

"You can get along fine without me-"

"Maybe we will. But we started this with you. And as long as you're alive I intend to finish it that way. So what do you say?"

The mountains looming ahead towered above the forest, casting their intimidating shadow on the trees below. They stood tall, staring down as if to belittle the small herd. Lyko glared back defiantly. They were his last enemy now.

"Okay," he said, his voice just above a whisper but trembling with anticipation, "one last fight before I sleep. Let's do this. Just… promise me one thing."

Fyn nodded. "Anything."

"Keep this a secret between us. The rest of the group can't be burdened with this knowledge."

"Don't they have a right to know?"

"They will, in time. But we have bigger and more immediate threats. There's still a Fast Biter out there, and we have some rough ground to cover. Please, for me, keep this silent."

Reluctantly, Fyn agreed. "Fine. I don't like it, but I understand."

"Then let's get on the move. We have some mountains to climb."

Sol held back a chuckle as he remembered Fyn diving into the river only a few moments ago. Sure, it probably hadn't been funny for him at the time, but it was hard not to find some humor in his situation, even if it had cost him a bit of food. No matter, the river was bountiful, and being this far upstream had its advantages.

A gleam of silver caught his eye as it lazily traveled down the river- a Scaly Swimmer, just beneath the surface, and a big one at that. He'd caught between five and eight so far- he'd lost count- but he intended to take advantage of the good fishing here while he had the chance. Recalling Fyn's little food experiment, Sol couldn't help but feel relieved at the simplicity of his diet. He ate one thing, and one thing only: Scaly Swimmers. Size and shape changed, but the taste was always pretty consistent. Either you liked them or you learned to like them. Dinosaurs like Fyn and Zaura had to adapt to new tastes all the time, sometimes with… interesting results. It was times like these that Sol was proud of his heritage. Life was much simpler this way.

Something moved out of the corner of Sol's eye. Very carefully, making sure to keep at least some focus on his approaching meal, Sol shifted his gaze. Someone was on the riverbank, watching him. He turned his head just slightly, to get a better look. It was Zaura.

"Time to go already?" Sol mumbled, remaining as still as possible.

"No."

Silence. The Longneck just stood there, watching him. Sol paid her no heed, keeping his eye on target. It wasn't a secret to him that Zaura didn't like him, but it also was hardly a bother. In a day or two, it would be as if they'd never met, and he'd have nothing but memories to remember that he'd ever had this little journey.

Just as the Scaly Swimmer passed his toes, Sol lunged downward, arcing his long claws through a fast, devastating swipe. His prey never had a chance. Sol cheered inwardly as he felt scales give way to soft flesh; he had a hold. Quickly he tossed his catch upwards, catching it in his jaws and swallowing it, chewing only to make sure none of his meal escaped his maw. He shivered in delight as the soft, slimy meal made its way down his throat on its way to his stomach. Living here, upriver, was to die for. Perhaps he'd stay up here instead of making his way back to his old fishing grounds.

Turning his head he saw Zaura, rooted in place, a disgusted look on her face. He grinned cheekily.

"What? Haven't you seen me fishing before?"

"I never cared to," Zaura grimaced, "and now I see I was right to avoid it. Your eating habits are disgusting."

Sol smacked his chops delightedly, too enthralled by the taste in his mouth to be hurt by Zaura's words. Zaura noticed a scale fall from between his teeth, and averted her eyes.

"You don't have to be here, you know," Sol pointed out.

"Wrong. Fyn wants me to make sure you're eating. Don't know why he cares- we'll be rid of you by tomorrow night. I still can't understand why a Sharptooth such as yourself would eat something so unconventional."

Sol's eyes were locked on another potential meal, and for a moment it looked as if he was completely ignoring Zaura. He pounced again, and once more met success. With a mouthful of white flesh, he said "look- honestly it's not so bad. And besides- it's just Scaly Swimmers. It could be worse."

"Yeah, well it could be better, too," Zaura grunted. "Whatever. I'll leave you to your antics and let Fyn know you're ready to go."

"Wait-"

Zaura let out an exasperated sigh, turning around to face the Longclaw. "What?"

Sol tapped his claws together, nervously. As a Sharptooth, his posture was actually comical, but Zaura wasn't in the laughing mood.

"Uh… thanks, you know, for bringing me along. I've never left my section of the river until now. I know I may not have been the most useful guide-"

"You weren't."

"-so I really appreciate that you were able to give me the chance to explore with you guys. And I just wanted to say that I hope you'll have the best of luck the rest of your way."

The Longclaw's words were surprising. Once more he'd defied Zaura's expectations, and for the moment she was able to appreciate that even he was just a young adult, coming to terms with his world. Nonetheless, she rolled her eyes at him. He was a Sharptooth and she was a Longneck. Allowing room for friendship was just wrong.

"We're not kicking you out yet. Eat up and get ready to climb-"

The rustling of leaves announced the arrival of Fyn and Lyko. It was hard to tell exactly what had gone down up on the warming-rock, but Fyn's smile was gone, replaced by a stone-hard expression that was surprisingly unreadable. Lyko seemed energized, a wan smile playing about his face as he eyed the mountains above.

"Finish up," Fyn announced, "if we start soon, we can make the mountains by the time the Bright Circle falls."

Fyn left Lyko to grab a short drink from the river, and Zaura followed him, concerned. When she'd suggested he check on their Clubtail, she hadn't expected him to come back so different. Whatever the two had discussed, she needed to know.

"Fyn? You okay?"

Fyn didn't answer immediately, gently dragging his muzzle through the cool, fresh water. He didn't drink it right away; instead he closed his eyes, relishing in the soft caress of the cold liquid. It calmed him, allowed him to focus. The hardest part of their journey through the Forest of Sand was still to come.

"I'm fine," he said dismissively, "just had a conversation with Lyko about what to expect when we go up into the mountains."

"And?"

"It won't be easy."

Fyn returned to his drink quietly, not even looking her in the eye.

"Obviously it won't be easy, but he must've said something else-"

"Nope."

Zaura elected not to press the conversation. The abrupt response she'd received told her all she needed to know; Fyn wasn't in a speaking mood. She only hoped that if he had something to share with the group, they'd find out before it became a problem. The mountains lay ahead, foreboding as ever. Somewhere in those peaks, Rachi was hopefully waiting for them. And beyond that- perhaps their father. Fyn was right- it wasn't going to be easy. But they'd come this far, hadn't they? Just one more challenge, she reminded herself, and after that, everything else would seem easy.

It didn't feel that way though, and as she watched her brother drink in silence, Zaura only felt the pit of unease in her stomach grow wider. Things were going to get much harder before they got better; of this, she had no doubt.

The Bone Fields were much like Rear remembered- a part in the trees marked the end of the familiar forest path, leading to the large, dusty field just beyond the wall of green. On this barren turf, small shapes darted in and out between the scattered bones of massive leaf eaters. Fast Biters. While few of their kind seldom traveled far, it was widely accepted that this was the largest community of Fast Biters in the region. It didn't take much imagination to believe. Somewhere down there, in the middle of everything, was Alpha Superior. Rear was usually quite careful with her emotions, but the sight of her home filled her with dread more than anything. It was why she chose to hang back, observing the activity beyond the trees before moving in. The male traveling with her wasn't about to argue. He'd already been pounced once today; few Fast Biters made it out of two pouncings unscathed. Right now wasn't exactly the best time to test that luck.

Sighting the familiar, bright red feather crest in the crowd was both a relief and a moment of finality for Rear. Superior was picking over the carcass of a Swimmer, probably from the herd that had given her pack so much trouble. Beside him were two younger males, heads turned away from his out of respect. They crouched lower than the vibrant, red and tan Fast Biter, a display of subservience, but nonetheless held the honor of feasting with him. These were almost certainly Superior's new proteges, being groomed for positions as pack leaders. Alpha had been one once, to the old Superior. Rear shivered; thinking about him still hurt.

A quiet click beside her reminded Rear that she was not alone. Turning to face her companion, she glared at him. The younger Fast Biter slunk back, terror in his eyes. She clicked back at him, dismissing him. She'd tortured the poor young one enough. Hesitantly the Fast Biter drew back, warily eyeing Rear before bolting to the safety of his pack. Then, once more, Rear found herself alone.

Drawing in breath, she squared herself, Almost no one had noticed the young one's return yet, but if Superior saw him before she announced herself, it would make her look weak, as if she'd sent him ahead to announce her failure. Before she could have second thoughts, she let out a loud, cackling screech- a sound normally reserved for the returning Alpha. Having no one left in her pack, it was her job now. The surprise on Superior's face registered immediately. He knew her by sound, and knew her pack well, too. Hearing her instead of Alpha was grounds for suspicion. The two Sharpteeth made eye contact, then started towards one another, Superior with confident, intimidating strides, and Rear with a more cautious shuffle. They stopped, keeping a respectful distance from one another, and Superior squinted, breathing in her scent and inspecting her top to bottom.

"You look well," he growled.

"And yet you know I am not," Rear replied, breaking her silence. "I sensed it when you approached me. You suspect."

Superior dipped his head, acknowledging her. "As always your perception is sharp. Rear, tell me- what has become of your pack? They are… not present. I trust they are well at least, yes?"

"Dead," Rear spat, grinding her killing claw into the dirt- a nervous tic to control her emotions, "killed by the herd we were hunting."

An awed silence fell over the crowd of gathering Fast Biters, and Rear felt her pulse quicken. Her pack had built a reputation on efficiency; coming back as the sole survivor would raise far more questions than she felt comfortable handling. Superior picked up on her elevated stress, but knew better than to press her. He knew others would assume the worst- that the pack's Beta had challenged the Alpha, killed him, and possibly killed the others too. He hadn't lost faith in her entirely yet.

"I do not receive your information without suspicion, pack Beta. Surely you understand? I must know the circumstances."

"We lost Right during the initial attack. When that happened, Left felt the need to… avenge him."

Superior cocked his head curiously. "Surely he remembered our ways? We do not kill without reason- everyone knows that."

"I know," Rear took a cautious step back, "but his lust for vengeance threatened our pack cohesiveness."

Frowning, Superior turned his back on Rear. "And how did your Alpha handle this?"

Rear thought back to the moment Alpha put Right out of his misery, remembering the harsh words exchanged between himself and his only remaining Flanker. She recalled the way she'd felt- hopelessly entangled in a situation that she knew was only going to get worse. Right had been a friend to all of them, if a tad rambunctious at times. Guiltily, she admitted to herself that she should have tried to talk Alpha out of his agreement to let Left exact revenge. But that was past now. It was time to answer for what she had done.

"To keep Left stable, Alpha organized a hunt on the dinosaur who killed Right. We found him with two Sailnecks and a Longclaw. We went in, against the odds, and we paid the price. Alpha died saving Left's life. Left was taken by a Bellydragger shortly after."

At the conclusion of her abbreviated account, Rear lifted her foot to step back, but stopped, holding her ground. Retreating was a sign of weakness. As the only survivor of her herd, weakness wasn't a trait she wanted to show. Around her, the air was so still, one could hear the distant blades of grass rustle.

"Your Alpha is dead…" Superior repeated, "and he died saving your Left Flanker from a fight that could have been completely avoided had you not gone after the leaf-eaters out of revenge."

"With all due respect, Superior, it was a hunt! We didn't-"

"You know our laws, and that is enough. What I still don't understand is why you would dare show your face back here after such an embarrassment."

Rear lowered her head, in respectful submissiveness. There was a time for aggression- this wasn't it. "I… the Clubtail we were tracking- we wounded him. Mortally, I believe. He won't be alive for long; I doubt he'll even make it into the mountains. If we hurry, we could catch him."

"And why would we do that?"

"We both know we need the food. The Cold-Time will be upon us before we know it, and who knows when a herd will pass through here next? Ever since the Great Sky-Stone fell…"

Superior grumbled to himself, and scratched behind his eye, a twitch that Rear had come to discover meant he was thinking hard about something. The fact that he hadn't yet gutted her meant she at least had a chance, and she was grateful for it.

"Do not think of me as blind, female," Superior grumbled, showing his row of sharp, white teeth, "I am not easily tricked. I know exactly why you suggest this hunt: you wish to exact revenge upon the Clubtail who killed your Alpha."

Rear nodded, though every fiber of her being told her not to. The word was out- denying it would only make her weaker in the eyes of the greater pack.

"I cannot deny my feelings, Alpha Superior. I wish him dead at my claws and teeth; perhaps hunting him down will quench my thirst for vengeance. However I also feel that this hunt will prove useful to the rest of the pack- especially with the Longnecks no longer under his protection. Two Longnecks and a Clubtail can sustain us for a while. I've seen the Longclaw before; he's not much of a fighter."

Alpha Superior looked at the tortured female in front of him, incredulous. It was hard to believe this was the same Rear that had left so many cycles ago. When she'd gone away that chilly morning, Rear had practically been stuck to her Alpha's side; a bouncing, exuberant second in command. Now, she was weary, defeated, yet she still maintained her honest streak. Had she lied to him once, he would have split her open in seconds, but she knew how to play him. He had respect for honesty. And while he knew he had to eventually do something about this breach of conduct, he wasn't sure he'd ever be able to lift a claw to kill her. Regardless, the problem was much too complicated to deal with now. He needed time- time that a hunt might provide him with.

"I will track down these leaf-eaters. You say they are heading for the mountains? If this is true, they'll have to climb the Falling Water Pass. We will meet them there and bring them down. You, on the other claw, will stay here with the Nest-Mothers while I think over what to do with you."

"The Nest-Mothers?! But Superior, I'd rather die than be left-"

"Enough!" Superior snapped. Rear shut her mouth instantly, aware of the dangerous glint in his eyes, "I will not feed your dreams of vengeance. You have lost your way, Rear. Perhaps sitting this hunt out will help you find it again. In the meantime, stay here. You will know that they are dead. And that is enough."

Shaking with a mixture of fury and fear, Rear slunk away as Superior turned from her, calling his packs to him. It wouldn't be enough. She wanted to drag her claws through that wretched Clubtail's hide, taste his warm blood as it left his dying frame. All Superior was after was an easy catch; she wanted revenge.

Farther away, Superior barked his orders to the packs gathered around him. One by one, in groups of four or more, they disappeared into the forest, following his instructions. They'd be off to scout out the prey, while the rest set up a choke point upriver. Before following his subordinates, Superior stole one last withering glance at Rear. She returned it with a glare, and with a shake of his head, Superior ran off into the forest.

Scowling, Rear sat down where she was, venomously eyeing the Nest-Mothers who whispered amongst one another, probably about her. She wasn't about to mingle with them, even if she had to stay.

Although…

A thought crossed her mind. On whose authority did she really have to stay? Superior was gone, and there was no chance the Nest-Mothers would be fast enough to catch her. She knew the river route far better than anyone else; after all, it had been her turf for the past year. If she could sneak through quickly enough to beat the others to the leaf eaters, it could all be finished in a matter of mere moments; no messing around this time. She'd go right for the throat. In his weakened state, the Clubtail wouldn't be able to react in time. She'd never even have to engage the Sailnecks and the Longclaw, if she was quick enough.

Superior would find out, though, she reminded herself. Someone would tell, and then where would she be? Exiled or worse. Then again, exile didn't seem so bad anymore. Alpha had been her best companion, and while the rest of the packs were nice enough, she felt no connection to any of them, at least not in the sense that she was connected to her old pack.

In fact, why should I return here at all? she thought. The idea was an intriguing one; surviving on her own would be difficult, but not impossible. She knew what was out there, after all, and even Superior was planning on letting her live, Rear's life as she knew it here was over.

Cautiously she swept her gaze over the Nest-Mothers. As her eyes met theirs, their mouths snapped shut, and they stared back, defensively. She didn't care; it was obvious they were talking about her, and what a disgrace she was. She wouldn't give them the satisfaction of a reply. Instead, she sniffed the air, looking for any whiff of a straggling pack. She caught none; they were gone. If ever there was a time to make her escape, it was now.

And before any of the Nest-Mothers could react, Rear was gone, leaving only a haze of displaced dust and rustling bushes as she disappeared into the forest. The Mothers considered pursuing, but thought better of it. Rear was no longer one of them anyway; that much was clear. If it was her destiny to die alone, away from the herd, then die she would. Alive, she was a complication, but in death, perhaps, the pack might finally be able to forget her own pack's actions, and immortalize their best hunts in story for generations- a fitting conclusion. So the Nest-Mothers settled back down to their maternal duties, and waited for the rest to return, either with Rear or news of her death.

The roar of sheets upon sheets of cascading water was the only sound the herd needed to hear to know they were close. Even the wounded Lyko, who was looking paler and paler by the moment, seemed to lengthen his stride. Falling water meant only one thing- they were moving up, into the mountains. Their journey was almost over, at least for now.

Up ahead, the trees grew more and more dispersed, giving way to a rocky clearing. Beyond that stood a great waterfall, the source of the noise. Little streams crisscrossed over the cracked stone ground, and the sand they had become so accustomed to seeing was gone, replaced by tufts of stringy, resilient weeds.

Sol stopped as the group slowed down, huffing as he caught his breath while regarding the path up ahead. No longer would it be the smooth migration trail they'd followed this far. Instead, it led sharply up the slope, dotted by water-slicked rocks and ledges. The Longnecks were going to have a challenge getting up it. Judging by the numerous footprints that dotted the landscape, however, someone had pulled it off. Fyn and Zaura would find a way. Lyko, he supposed, would make do as well.

"So… this is it- the end of the forest."

Fyn looked confused. "Well, yes. Yes it is. And…?"

"And I, uh, suppose it's time I turned back," Sol added.

Fyn mouthed a silent "ah" while Zaura nodded knowingly. Lyko sighed, his sigh turning into a wince of pain.

"We're really going to make a big deal about this, guys?" he coughed, his sides rattling, "let's just send him on his way and be done with it."

Hesitantly Fyn turned to Sol, regarding him as one would a friend. They'd only known each other for a few days, but Fyn was already impressed by how much the Longclaw had taught him about Sharpteeth. When he'd started out on this journey, the only sources of information he'd had were the stories told by his old herd and the things Rachi had taught him. Hearing a perspective from the other side was refreshing, to say the least. He really didn't want him to go, but he also knew that Zaura would be on edge as long as he was here, and he hardly wanted that, either.

"Well, Sol, it was great having you with us. I think I speak for the group when I saw we'd have been lost without you, and heck- we might've never even found Lyko if it weren't for you."

As Fyn's words went on, Sol turned his head away. Fyn couldn't blame him; kicking him out right now felt like a betrayal of trust. Regardless, he continued anyway, confident Sol was listening still.

"So I guess what I'm really trying to say-"

Sol turned up his nose, his eyes thoughtfully on the sky, and Fyn frowned. This was a bit rude coming from Sol.

"Uh… I just wanted to say thank you, and that I hope perhaps one day, you might-"

He stopped as Sol drew in a sharp breath, culminating in a loud snort that startled everyone. By now Fyn was more than perturbed at the Longclaw's antics.

"Sol, I'm trying to say goodbye! Would you just humor me this on-"

"Shush!"

Fyn cocked an eyebrow, shooting Zaura an incredulous look.

"Sorry? Sol, if there's something you need to-"

"I said shush!" the Longclaw hissed, holding up his claws, "I smell Fast Biters!"

The group froze for a moment, holding in their breath as they waited to catch a glimpse of the familiar, scaly body, or perhaps hear the snap of a twig- anything to confirm or deny Sol's suspicions. With baited breath, Fyn stood stock still, thoughts racing through his mind as he tried to plan an escape. If Sol was right, then there was only one place the Fast Biters could be- the trees behind them. Backtracking through the forest would be suicide- the underbrush was thick enough to slow them down significantly, without offering a lot of tail-swinging room. Crossing the field ahead was their best bet, but it was a lot of rocky, exposed terrain. Still, it was all they had to go on. As he started to trace out a path, he heard Zaura snort.

"Come on, Sol. Run along home. Don't think I don't know what this is."

"Wha- what do you mean?" Sol said absently, scanning the forest.

"It's obvious." Zaura left her defensive position, sauntering over to the alert Longclaw, "you don't want to leave, do you? You honestly believe that we might reconsider, so you invent this ludicrous threat in order to-"

"Zaura," Fyn protested.

"Shut up, Fyn! I don't know why this… this Sharptooth is so interested in us, but it's really starting to make me wonder why he's following us." She turned sharply to Sol, bearing down on him. The Longclaw shrunk back, baring his teeth out of fear.

"Zaura?" he half-whispered, backing away as she advanced on him, "I'm- I'm not kidding! There's a very real Fast Biter threat here! Now isn't the time for accusations!"

"Of course you'd say that! Because you're so desperate for this twisted form of companionship, you can't bear the thought of turning back! Well I can see through it- your act. I don't know why you're here, but a Sharptooth never would desire the companionship of a herd."

"But that's not what this is about! There's really a-"

"Silence!"

Lyko's loud bellow split the two apart, and they warily backed away from one another. When all was quiet, he nodded towards the forest.

"He's right, Zaura. Look."

Fyn squinted, following Lyko's gaze into the trees. His vision had never been stellar, so it took him a while to figure out just what it was the Clubtail had seen. When he finally saw it, his blood ran cold- one Fast Biter, peering out at them from behind a stand of saplings. It wasn't advancing. In fact, nothing about its position was threatening at all, yet the way it looked at them, calmly, evenly sizing them up, was unnerving. Zaura, having been disproven, immediately shut her mouth, half out of embarrassment and half out of fear.

"Why is it just standing there?" Fyn whispered.

"I don't know," Sol whispered back, "but that's the one I smelled."

"Is it a threat?"

"Hardly," Lyko chimed in, "it's too far away. Might not even be interested in us," he added hopefully.

The Fast Biter blinked once, then scratched behind its head, emitting a loud cawing noise in the process. Then it scampered away, disappearing into the dark between the trees. With night falling rapidly, it wasn't long before the herd lost sight of him.

"Okay, let's get on with this, then," Fyn said, his voice still cautiously quiet. He was surprised to find that his chest was heaving; he'd been breathing hard, and hadn't even realized it.

Stupid, he mentally chastised himself, getting all jumpy at the sight of one little Fast Biter. How the heck are we ever going to find Dad if I'm jumping at the slightest threat?

Doing his best to return to calm, he turned to say goodbye to Sol for the last time. As his eyes swept over the forest again, however, he drew in a sharp breath. Two small, greenish-white dots glared out at him from the trees. The shape and color were all too familiar to him, as was the low, gurgling breathing that accompanied it.

"Uh, S- Sol?" he stuttered, backing away from the trees, "you only smelled that one Fast Biter, right?"

Confused, Sol turned around, eyes wide.

"No… no way."

Around the first pair of glowing eyes, more began to appear, and the sound of breathing and quiet growling crescendoed into a droning sound that seemed to come at them from every angle. It wasn't just a little pack this time; there had to be at least ten nearby, maybe more.

"It's, uh, a little early to say goodbye, I think," Fyn whispered to Sol. The Longclaw nodded in agreement.

"What's the plan?" Lyko piped up, already backing away.

Fyn was conflicted; initially he'd hoped to have more time to navigate the steep, slippery terrain ahead, but time wasn't a luxury they could afford. Already a few Fast Biters were emerging from the trees, advancing menacingly with their killing claws extended. He'd hoped not to leave any of his decisions to chance, but in this case, there didn't look to be much of a choice.

"We make for the top of the waterfall. High ground's going to be our best bet."

A large Fast Biter with a red crest stepped out of the trees, behind the others. This one in particular seemed fixated on Lyko, and Fyn could make out beads of saliva dripping from his open mouth. Time to act.

"Run!" he bellowed, whipping himself around and setting off into a bounding pace as quickly as he could. He knew they'd be no match for the Fast Biters in terms of speed, but a head start was still useful, nonetheless. Zaura was in the lead, making for the rocky hill with a speed uncharacteristic of her size. Tagging along just behind her was Sol, effortlessly matching her pace. He was clearly holding back, but Fyn appreciated his commitment to the group. Breaking ranks was a good way to get someone killed.

Behind them, the characteristic screech of the red-crested Fast Biter signalled the start of the chase, and almost immediately the air was filled with the sounds of pattering feet. The Fast Biters were on the move. Fyn spared one glance behind him and immediately wished he hadn't. He was having difficulty keeping up his bounding gait; his burning leg muscles were a testament to that. The Fast Biters, on the other hand, were effortlessly catching up, quickly burning away the head start he'd been hoping for.

"Thought we'd have more time," he grunted. They were moving into the water-slicked rocks near the waterfall now, and the terrain was easily more difficult to navigate here. Fyn's feet slipped as he fought for traction, but he plowed on, knowing full well that losing this battle would cost him his life.

The Fast Biters began to encircle the group as they moved closer, methodically falling into positions so coordinated, they had to have been planned. One by one, they began to dart in and out between the dinosaurs, never striking out, but always coming just close enough to get in the way. The attack pattern seemed familiar- it was a larger-scale version of what the first pack did to the herd during the sandstorm. Fyn pulled his foot away as a Fast Biter snapped at him; the Sharptooth glared at him before retreating to the outside again.

Ahead, a single Fast Biter managed to land on Zaura's back, utilizing a tall boulder and a well-timed leap. She growled at him and shimmied, trying to shake him off, but to no avail. The Fast Biter dug his claws in, punching through her thick hide. Zaura bellowed in pain. Hearing her, Sol, altered his course, and with one fluid sweep of his arm, skewered the Fast Biter, flinging it from her back with a bleeding hole in its thigh. With a shrill call, the Fast Biter tumbled away, quickly left in the dust.

"Thanks!" Zaura called out. Sol only nodded in response before roaring in the face of another approaching Fast Biter.

Then the terrain, as expected, took a turn for the worse. The ground sloped upwards sharply, and Fyn had to kick his feet into the ground for traction. Every time his foot impacted the sharp rocks he felt a spark of pain, but had no choice but to ignore it, digging in one foot at a time.

An anguished call had him turn around, to see Lyko just behind him, making his way up the hill. The wound on his leg was open, and bleeding again, and his leg spasmed as he tried making his way up the slippery slope. Turning around, Fyn made his way back towards the struggling Clubtail.

"Move on, Fyn!" Lyko called, gasping with pain and exhaustion, "my leg's not- ergh- cooperating!"

Fyn smirked, trying to mask his feeling that he'd made the wrong choice as he slid to a halt behind Lyko. "Doesn't matter! We're going to get you to Rachi!"

Zaura turned at the sound of Fyn's voice, but she was already near the top of the waterfall. The Fast Biters had abandoned both her and Sol, opting instead to cut off the others' advance. They were well and truly encircled now, and it was plain to Fyn what was going to come next. He buried the thought as best he could, however, pushing Lyko ahead.

"I'm coming, Fyn!"

Looking down, Zaura started to descend, however as she placed her front feet on the incline, she Fast Biters took notice, and try as she might, Zaura was already gaining momentum, and found getting to her feet difficult. For a moment, as she slid down, she closed her eyes; her brash decision was about to be the end of her. Then she felt an arm slide around her belly, and her descent slowed.

"Get back up there! You won't do any good getting yourself killed!"

It was Sol. The Longclaw had nimbly sidestepped her, placing himself between her and the Fast Biters.

"No way! Move it, Longclaw! My brother's down there!"

Sol was adamant, however, pushing Zaura back up the incline. "You're no good to him dead; let me go instead."

Grudgingly, Zaura didn't resist as she was pushed back onto level ground. Sol was right, of course. Going down the slippery incline would only serve to separate her from the herd- something the Fast Biters were waiting for. Sol winked peevishly at her before turning back to the fight.

"You good for nothing Sharptooth!" she called after him, "go save my brother, or I swear I'll flay you standing with my tail!"

Sol chuckled to himself as he started back down, carefully picking his foot placement to avoid a slip, digging his front claws in when needed for extra traction. The Fast Biters were entirely focused on Fyn and Lyko as they made their way up, so none of them saw him coming.

Perfect, he thought as he let his legs slide out from underneath him. Stabilizing his fall with his claws, Sol transitioned into a slide, ramming into two of the encircling Fast Biters and sending them skidding away. The Fast Biters roared and swore furiously at him as they flailed all the way down; it would have been comical if the situation hadn't been so dire. Digging his feet in, Sol stood up again, squaring off next to Fyn. All the while, Zaura looked on helplessly from above.

"You ready for a fight?" Fyn growled with much more bravado than he actually felt. Sol nodded.

"Ready."

A euphoric grin fell over Lyko's face. "Well, if I'm going to die before I say goodbye to a good herd leader one last time, at least I can die knowing I witnessed the beginnings of a great one! Besides- I always wanted to die on my feet. Let's make 'em hurt!"

Fyn sidestepped, fighting for his footing as a Fast Biter launched itself towards him. He avoided the brunt of the attack, but his assailant's claws still managed to dig a few streaks in his leg. Fyn swung around angrily, sweeping the legs out from underneath the bold attacker with his tail. Lyko pounded the ground in a show of force, snapping furiously at the Fast Biters drawing near him. They backed off- all except one, the red-crested one. He stood his ground, locking his eyes on Lyko's. He was calling the Clubtail's bluff. In response, Lyko swung his tail around. The Fast Biter nimbly dodged it, taking note of the way Lyko's leg buckled when he moved. Slowly, at a snail's pace, the three began to back their way uphill, and as they held their defensive positions, the Fast Biters began to back off more and more.

Sol feigned a charge at one Fast Biter, and it withdrew, chattering loudly. The others nearby Sol regrouped around their friend, keeping their distance. Fyn, too, noticed the ones by his side falling back. Strange- they weren't anywhere near the top of the hill yet. Zaura, from her position, could see exactly what was happening as the Fast Biters converged on red-crest, near Lyko.

"Guys, Lyko-" she yelled. She was interrupted as red-crest barked loudly. As one, all the Fast Biters turned to Lyko. Fyn's heart skipped as he suddenly realized their plan.

"No!" he groaned, putting all his weight into pushing Lyko up the hill. Lyko, seeing the Fast Biters' attention fall on him, simply said one word.

"Oh."

The Fast Biters leaped at him, coordinated. Fyn couldn't withstand the synchronized attack, and was forcibly shunted aside, losing his footing in the process. His plight wasn't his concern, however. His eyes were dead-set on Lyko- the predators' target. The Sharpteeth swarmed over him, scrambling over his tough armor and scratching at his underbelly. One dug its claw into his open wound, and Lyko screamed out in agony. Fyn could only watch as he slammed into the rocks while Lyko flailed for control. It was a losing battle. His front feet slipped once, and he never recovered. With a scraping side, he lost all traction, sliding down into the mess of teeth and claws. Dust rose as he tumbled down the hillside, battered by rocks as he fought and failed to regain control. The Fast Biters backed off- the fall would do their work for them. Sure enough, Lyko hit the ground hard, with a loud, sharp "crack," and lay still, his chest rising and falling slowly.

"Lyko!" Fyn called out, starting back down. He slipped, falling down once more, and regained his footing. The hill was too steep to safely descend in time, and he knew it. The Fast Biters began to swarm his body, but at the red-crest's command, they stopped, instead, taking positions at the bottom of the hill, in case Fyn or Sol continued their descent. All Fyn could do was watch, as if in a bad dream, as red-crest advanced on the barely-moving Lyko, his killing claw extended. Then, against the odds, Lyko's eye opened, and turned lazily up to him. Haltingly the old Clubtail mouthed one word; the sound never made it up to him, but it was obvious what his instructions were.

Run.

With tears in his eyes, Fyn knew he had no choice. He looked to Sol. The Longclaw, his face an expression of pure shock, only nodded in response, and together the two started back up towards Zaura, all the while watching as red-crest prepared for his killing blow.

Then, unexpectedly, the Fast Biters received an unwelcome visitor.

From the moment he caught his scent, Alpha Superior knew the Clubtail was a waste of his time. The wound Rear had described had likely spent days festering, and the Clubtail reeked of Bonerot. His meat was useless to the pack. Yet as the battle progressed, he knew he had to carry on the mission. If they were going to have any hope of taking the others down, one less dinosaur in the herd would help- even if that meant killing the Clubtail was out of mercy, and nothing else. They had time to establish another ambush, after all. He wasn't surprised now how Rear had run into so much difficulty hunting these four. Even with one wounded, they were a cohesive group. Now, facing down the dying Clubtail, he was reminded again of Rear, and her obsession with finishing the job.

Was it worth it? he thought, watching the Clubtail's eyes dart from one Sharptooth to the next. It saddened him that so much life had been lost in the pursuit of this single dinosaur. Had it not been for the Clubtail, his best hunting pack would still be alive, yet he could hardly blame him for his actions. They had the right to defend themselves, did they not? As he stepped closer, he regarded the leaf eater with respect. It was the least he could do for one who had carried on for so long, especially with his injury. He extended his claw, making ready to deliver the killing blow. Just one quick slash across the neck, and he'd be gone, free of his pain.

He hadn't anticipated being hit from behind, but even as the familiar scent caught his nose, he was disappointed to realize that he was not surprised. Rear. Truth be told, he'd anticipated her escape from the company of the Nest-Mothers. He'd hoped the Clubtail would've been dead by the time she arrived though. That said, perhaps this was the chance to finally do something about her.

Rear, he coughed, spitting dust as he rose to his feet. He was grateful that the Fast Biter had used a non lethal tackle, keeping her claws in when she hit, but in the state she was in, he was quite grateful things hadn't been worse. She was visibly frazzled- chest heaving with rapid breaths, mouth curved in a snarl, and pupils constricted. She was ready to kill, and probably could have ended him if she wanted to. Perhaps there was still some reason within her.

Stand aside, Alpha Superior, she growled to him, he's mine.

Superior stood between her and the Clubtail, keeping her focus on him. The others began to close in behind her, ready for his word to strike, but he shook his head. Disappointed, they backed away.

You called them off….

Superior nodded gravely, yes I did. Because I feel this does not need to escalate to violence. Rear, the Clubtail is useless to us. He has the Bonerot. But you knew this, did you not? You sent us on this hunt knowing his death wouldn't benefit us in the least.

There are still others. He had companions-

But that's not why you wanted to do this, was it? Well, Rear, here we are. Your quarry lies before you, brought down, unable to run any longer. He paused, thinking, before going on.

And if you want him so badly, by all means- he is yours.

Without an utterance of thanks, Rear began to step forward, but Superior still blocked her way.

Let me have my vengeance! she hissed.

Superior shook his head. Do what you must, Rear. I've stopped caring. But know this- when we depart, I never want to see you again. You are no longer a part of the greater pack. And if I see you in this forest again? He nodded to his packmates, eagerly waiting behind Rear to emphasize the point, I will have you hunted down. You are a disgrace to your Alpha's name. Now, if you will excuse me, we have a hunt to finish.

And in an instant, he was gone. It had all happened so fast. One moment he was standing in front of Rear, and the next, Superior was gone, fleeing into the trees once more to organize a second attack. He never even said goodbye, or stole one look back at her. He was just gone. And for some reason, somewhere this touched Rear, and made her hesitate as she made her way to the Clubtail. But her resolve refused to waver. There was a debt to pay. This Clubtail had the blood of her brothers on him, and blood could only be matched by blood. His shuddering body, his mouth opening and shutting as he took in his last gasps of air- none of these things phased her as she made ready to end him. Not even the image of the last of the pack disappearing into the trees made an impression. She'd been ready to leave them behind anyway. Nothing but retribution mattered anymore.

Carefully, she surveyed his body, perusing it for whatever place might end him the most slowly and painfully. The others bleated for him, but were powerless, looking down at her. Rear puffed her chest out. Now they would suffer as she had.

They.

He had others. The thought was one she'd avoided for a while, mostly because it confused her. Leaf eaters traveled in herds, but not ones as diverse as this, and certainly not with a Longclaw. What had compelled them to stick together? It was this thought, and this thought alone that stayed her claw. Perhaps he did not deserve to die slowly. His death was still a necessity, yes, but- if nothing else- he deserved a fighting death. They deserved to know he'd given his all.

Stand up, leaf eater, she growled, nuzzling him. His breath reeked of sickness, but she continued to push, nonetheless. When his head fell back down, limp, she tried again, firmer.

I demand you fight me, Clubtail. Stand up now.

Nothing.

Stand up!

Still nothing.

Stand or I will split you open!

The Clubtail turned his head slowly, and Rear sighed in relief. Now he would finally acknowledge her. To her surprise, however, he kept on turning until he faced his herd, still looking down on them from the top of the waterfall. The Clubtail gave them a little smile before turning to face Rear. The herd looked to one another before departing, sparing their final glances his way. Now, the Clubtail's eyes were locked squarely with hers. They held no rage, no desire to kill- only peace. Suddenly, she felt uncomfortable.

Stop it, Clubtail. Stop looking at me and stand. Fight me!

Clubtail, I will make your death swift and just if you only acknowledge me.

His only response, the Clubtail's mouth began to curve up into the same smile he'd given his herd. Perplexed, Rear stepped back.

Stop looking at me that way, she chattered nervously, please, don't… don't make this harder than it has to be.

The Clubtail nodded in the direction his herd had departed, and murmured something in leaf-eater. She couldn't understand the words, but his message was clear. He'd never wanted to fight- he had a family of his own to protect. Needless to say this was troubling. Rear felt her eyes moisten, and she hid her face as a rattling cough shook the Clubtail's entire body. When she looked back, there was blood on his mouth. In all that time, he'd never once looked away, however.

I think I see now. I see why you will not fight me, she whispered. We are not so different at all, you and I. When you killed Right… you did so in defense, just as I would have. I cannot hate you for this. I just- I just wish I understood better.

The Clubtail seemed to be listening, despite his lack of understanding of the Sharptooth language, and Rear continued.

I will not fight you, Clubtail. Rest well. you have done all you could. And, for what it's worth, I'm… sorry. Sorry this entire thing had to happen.

Laying his head down, the Clubtail's smile never faltered as he breathed one more, shaky sigh. As he closed his eyes, he made one last sound, one that Rear felt she would never forget, and despite the language difference, felt she knew the meaning of.

Goodbye.

And without any furious battle or flurry of bone, claws, and teeth, the Clubtail silently passed away, leaving Rear alone, with only the roar of the waterfall to accompany herself and her thoughts. For the time being, she thought of nothing. So conflicted was she that she became devoid of emotion, uncertain of what to do next. She had no more family, no pack to watch over and protect. Likewise his herd was down a protector.

And suddenly, she knew what she had to do.

Her family was gone, but perhaps she would not have to see another torn to pieces. They needed a protector, someone to stand by their side as they made their way to the next ambush. Without that, they would fall easily to Superior and his pack. It was true that they had not made all the kills they'd hoped for this season, but the pack would not go hungry without these leaf eaters. Perhaps the day could conclude without any more bloodshed. She didn't know for sure, but what did she have to lose? The leaf eaters wouldn't accept one such as her, but that didn't mean she couldn't help them for his sake- and for the sake of the mentor Alpha had been. After all, she'd already lost her old family.

But perhaps it was not too late to find another.

Hey guys, sorry for the LONG absence. I've been under a lot of schoolwork lately, and managed to snag a break when my teachers got behind on grading to finish this story. That being said, these won't be coming out at the pace I was working over the summer, but I will continue to make time for writing when I can. The conclusion to the first "book" of this series is coming, but there are several more to follow within this story- after all, we've only just made it out of the Drylands! It's still a long way to the Great Valley, but let's make that journey together, eh? I look forward to concluding this and pressing on- expect so see some possibly familiar characters along the way, as well as a few callbacks to older works. And who knows? We may just get to learn a little more about a particular event in dinosaur history, as well as a species we know very little about... ;)

Until next time!

-Nimbus