Chapter 12: A Tale of Darkness
"Know when fairy tales cease to be tales? When people start believing in them." - Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon, Witcher III: The Wild Hunt
Alright... I should be... safe now...
As she was dragging herself across the empty lands, she didn't even pay her extensive wounds too much heed. Her thoughts still mostly rested with the herd, which she had lost earlier on this very day. Never would she forget how the peaceful longnecks vanished one after the other. Never would she forget the uncountable sharpteeth swarming her family and friends. Even the six adults in her herd, including herself, had never stood a chance against such an onslaught. Neither had her little children.
But even in her grief, she couldn't help but feel curious. It was quite clear to her that those sharpteeth had spared her for some reason. A reason she could not understand, as they seemed to not have killed for food. That didn't mean they had left her untouched, however. She had lost all feelings in her tail already and had great problems keeping her head raised up high. Her big hind legs were covered in wounds and so were her front legs, her whole body and her neck. She was indeed in a lot of pain.
But at least she was still breathing, she figured. There would be a way to stay alive. She would get through this. Somehow.
Maybe... if I... find another herd... Other longnecks... Surely, they would...
Grrrwl...
The moment this deep, soft growl reached her ears, she froze in her tracks with wide eyes. It was not an aggressive sound, but she knew all too well to which kind of dinosaur it belonged to.
Oh no... no... please... not... like this...
She swung her head around to her left and stared directly into a pair of yellow eyes. The eyes of what looked a lot like a fastbiter. Normally, that sight would not have unnerved her in the slightest. A lone fastbiter? One kick from her powerful legs and most of its bones were shattered, and she was confident this sharptooth knew that, too. Adult longnecks of her kind had always been avoided by those killers. Even two-footers, the most fearsome and brutal of all sharpteeth, mostly kept away from them. Only her children she had to always be vigilant about, as they provided an easy meal for any kind of sharptooth. However, this fastbiter was pretty big for its kind, in fact the biggest she had ever seen, and given the extremely aggressive nature of fastbiters combined with her current state, it was very likely it would not be afraid to attack her.
And then there was this fuzz covering its body. It seemed like the killers of her family had changed their minds about letting her alive. Running away was not an option, she was too exhausted, too heavily injured and even in her best shape way too slow anyway. She was nowhere near able to fight like this, either. And talking to a sharptooth? Not really. They were not able to talk, after all. Even if they were, what good would it do? It wasn't like there was much going on behind their piercing eyes and between their sensitive ears.
In spite of her state, however, she immediately tried to raise her tail and go into a defensive position.
But she couldn't. She was too weak. She wasn't even able to lift one of her legs without collapsing, let alone her enormous neck or tail. It seemed like those sharpteeth had gone precisely for the only parts of her body with which she would've been able to defend herself. She was totally defenseless now.
So she just closed her eyes and lowered her head even further in anticipation of her death. She hoped this fastbiter would make it at least a quick one, however unlikely that was.
The sharptooth could be heard wandering around her for a bit, stalking, looking for an opportunity to brutally take her life away, the distinctive sound of its ghastly killing claws touching the ground with every soft step, until it suddenly came to a stop right in front of her. This was the moment. This was her end.
Wait... it has its claws on the...?
"Relax. I won't hurt you."
Before she could even finish her thoughts, her eyes sprang open again.
Did that fastbiter just...?!
"You... can... talk?!" She asked with all the surprise she could still express in her broken voice.
It was only now that she mustered the sharptooth in more detail. Now that she had heard its deep voice, she knew it was a male. And he had his tail lowered and forelimbs held close to his body. The same went for the deadly claws on his feet, both of those weapons still firmly planted on the ground. His stance was completely non-aggressive.
But if he didn't plan on killing her, what did he want?
Her question should soon be answered, as the fastbiter laid down on his haunches right in front of her gargantuan, standing form and gestured for her to do the same. He was big for a fastbiter, sure, but still tiny in comparison to a full-grown longneck like herself. If she wanted to, she could have easily crushed him right now. But something was holding her back. She could feel another something urging her to just stomp him and be done with it, but at the same time her heart told her to remain calm, despite her forlorn situation.
In the end, she accepted his 'invitation' and laid down as well.
"What's your name?" The fastbiter asked calmly.
"Arga. And... what's...?" She hesitated asking for his name. Since when did sharpteeth have names, anyway?
"Specter." He just answered, as if he were aware of what she was thinking. "Nice to meet you, Arga."
She was taken aback by his behavior and the friendly, almost soothing tone in his voice. Not even in her most unusual sleep stories had she ever imagined anything like that. She would have liked telling her family about this encounter though. A speaking, friendly sharptooth? She was sure that her mate would have loved to ask him some questions, to be the first leaf-eater ever to hear a sharptooth's story. He had been an intelligent and strong longneck, had never been afraid of sharpteeth, after all. But it was too late for that now. Only she herself was left. Still, she wondered why the fastbiter would possibly act like that.
To Specter on the other hand, this was quite clear.
She's an Argentinosaurus, if I'm not mistaken... Must be around seven meters tall and probably more than 70 tons heavy... Damn! One stomp or kick and I'm a bloody pulp. Have to be cautious here... Just need to know what's going on...
"What happened to you? Who did this?" He finally asked.
It took Arga quite some time to give her answer. Just thinking about this made all the horrifying images return to her inner eye.
"My herd... We were... attacked... Sharpteeth... So many of them..."
It pained Specter to just interrogate her like that. He didn't even want to imagine how that must have been like, seeing her whole family and friends perish at the claws and teeth of hungry sharpteeth, but since this longneck was the sole survivor, she was his best bet for information right now. So he let her continue.
"Everyone is dead... my friends... my mate... my children... Those sharpteeth... they didn't even... kill them to... eat them... And... I... don't know why... but... they left me alive... on purpose... I think."
Specter didn't show the massive discomfort he felt after hearing this. So the killers of her herd were not hungry. But why else would those sharpteeth carry out a massacre against some peaceful longnecks, he asked himself. And even more so, just what kinds of sharpteeth would be capable of doing that? Given the sheer size of Arga alone, this certainly wasn't a simple pack of fastbiters' doing.
"I'm sorry to hear that... Listen, I know this must be painful but... I need you to describe them for me. What did those sharpteeth look like?"
The gaze Arga gave him made something in Specter's stomach turn. He already anticipated that he had pushed it too far with that question.
"Some... of them, a lot... like... you."
Instead of anger, it was overwhelming sadness in her answer. It was the kind of sadness that could infect the listener. But Arga, even in her agony, wanted to be a bit more precise.
"But... now that I see you... up close... They were not fastbiters... No... They were..."
The sound of crashing footsteps interrupted her and made her go silent in an instant. It didn't take much longer for a massive dark green two-footer to appear behind Specter. And it was slowly coming closer. Seeing how he didn't seem to mind that little 'detail', Arga tried to remain calm about this as well.
"Is that... a friend of yours?"
Specter didn't respond to that outright. It would take a lot for him to consider Chaser a friend. For now, the two-footer was purely something else to him. Although he frowned slightly, calling him that out loud for the first time.
"No. He's my leader..."
Until Chaser came to a halt right behind him, no more words were exchanged between predator and prey. He seemed to calmly analyze the whole scene, taking in every single scent, every little detail, and Specter could almost feel his cold, one-eyed gaze looking down on him in the end.
And then the leader spoke up.
"Kill her."
Specter immediately jumped up with wide eyes and stared at Chaser, his heartbeat already accelerating to higher levels.
"What?! But... why?"
"Because I'm telling you to!" Came the harsh and extremely annoyed answer from the two-footer.
As Specter slowly turned around to Arga again, he could see great amounts of confusion but just as much acceptance in her half-closed, weary eyes.
"Arga... I... He..."
But she didn't even need Specter's translation anymore. The short exchange of growls between the two sharpteeth couldn't have had a clearer meaning. And neither the black fastbiter's reaction.
"He wants you to... kill me, doesn't he?"
He just gave her a sad nod as response. Although he had fully accepted his path as a carnivore by now, this was the first time someone explicitly ordered him to kill someone he didn't want to kill by himself. It was the coldness in Chaser's voice, the lack of any empathy, which deeply horrified him. He wanted to just refuse, tell Chaser to do it himself, but disobeying his leader's commands would most likely grant him an even worse fate than Arga's.
Indeed, he had finally become what he had thoughts about becoming at one point in his past life. He was a primeval soldier now. In fact, even more than that. He was a sicario in the making, a raptor-assassin, not bound by a code of honor but to plain orders with no way to dismiss them.
And this was just another execution.
He couldn't decide, however, if he actually disliked it this way. He had never been good in strictly following orders, true, he was a free spirit and valued the freedom to do what he pleased to do above everything else, but even he couldn't deny that following simple orders from a far more experienced hunter might actually help him to stay alive much longer in this time. Still, he wouldn't have been himself if he would not have felt his conscience nagging him with some serious doubts.
And Arga seemed to notice that.
"Are you... feeling bad about this?" She asked him in curious surprise.
"Of course I am! You don't deserve this... you can't even fight back... and I'm not hungry, either."
He was lying with the last statement and he knew that. He actually was pretty hungry right now, having eaten only four eggs and a small spiketail on the last day, but by far not hungry enough to kill a friendly leaf-eater in cold blood, a leaf-eater he just had a conversation with as well, even though the smell of her blood and sight of her wounds made his mouth water heavily.
Arga let out a slightly amused laugh before speaking up again.
"Hey... I'd rather... be killed by you... than by someone... who doesn't care. I... don't know why you are but... don't be sad about this. You're doing me... a favor. Maybe now... I can finally return... to my family..."
Having said that, she slowly laid out her neck in front of the fastbiter. She was used to fighting until her last breath, that was the only way a longneck survived until it reached an age and size such as hers, and truth be told, her instincts pressed her to just use her massive body to crush at least one of the two sharpteeth, but she refused to act like that. And that for a very good reason. The little conversation with this sharptooth had really opened her eyes, she finally understood that now. All her thoughts about staying alive and living on were gone now. She realized it was desperation that had driven her. A desolate course. She didn't even have the strength to stand up anymore, and her wounds would soon become infected. It would be a slow and painful death.
But with this fastbiter here, she had been given a choice. A choice she had just made.
Also, and this was the sole reason why she decided to not kill at least one of the sharpteeth, there was another thing on her mind by now.
And maybe... you, Specter, might be doing me another favor... Maybe you might be granting me at least that... I hope you disgusting bastards had fun with what you did to my family... But oh, I'm having even more fun! I'm even thankful that you let me suffer and live this long. You know why? Because now I will keep those alive that will one day feast on YOU!
She has never felt so satisfied with a thought such as this.
Specter took another quick look at the extensive injuries all over her body and gave her a final nod. Utilizing his minimal anatomic knowledge and the little training he had received so far, he decided to search for a big artery along her throat, already preparing his two massive sickle claws.
And then, barely visible on her thick skin, he found pulsating movement, a throbbing beat of life. This was his target. He just hoped the shock of that sudden strike would kill her quickly. Maybe he really was doing her a favor by ending her pain, he figured, but he would have liked to have been given a choice. But alas, it was Chaser who had made that choice for him.
He couldn't really explain why he sometimes had these outbursts of hesitation when it came to killing. He knew perfectly well that the longneck in front of him was suffering terribly and that she would die anyway, sooner or later. And being honest with himself, he would really rather be the one releasing her from her pain than letting Chaser do it. What he definitely understood now was why Littlefoot and the others had so often advised him to not use the leaf-eater language to actually talk to his prey, however 'noble' his intentions. Having been born as a highly social creature, it only came natural to him that every exchanged word strengthened a certain bond between him and his prey, despite him living the life of a predator now, despite still being a loner. It was just how his past self worked in terms of psyche.
But that was something he would simply have get used to.
"I hope you will find them. Wherever they are right now." He finally said in a firm voice.
Subsequent to those words, wanting to spare her from any more suffering, Specter moved closer, raised his right leg while balancing on his left and kicked out.
Shluck!
The sound of piercing flesh was followed by a fountain of lukewarm blood that shot right in his face and colored his whole body within moments in a crimson hue. He had hit his target with deadly precision once more, just like with the little spiketail.
But the outburst of pain in her throat was never really processed by Arga's senses. One last thought crossed her mind before everything around her went black.
So they do have a heart...
And then all was still. The silence was only broken when Chaser moved closer to her corpse, eyed Specter's accurate handiwork and faced the blood-soaked fastbiter.
"Good. So you're not stupid."
Specter wanted to burst into endless rage about Chaser's apathy, but kept his calm. Mostly.
"Was this another one of your retarded tests?"
"No, this was a hunt." Chaser stated, completely ignoring Specter's disrespectful tone.
"This wasn't a hunt. This was murder." Specter made clear with noticeably suppressed anger in his voice.
"Call it as you wish." Chaser responded indifferently. "Now eat your fill. I have something to show you."
You cold-hearted son of a... Argh! I would kill for a cold beer and a smoke right now... Specter thought to himself, not in any shape or form sarcastically.
He let out a deep sigh, went over to Arga's big head and closed her still half-shut eyelids, like he had always done with his victims. Those that had deserved it in his eyes, that was. It happened almost intuitively by now. He made himself aware again that no matter how many lives he would still be about to end in his time, this gesture was something he would never forget. A final show of respect for a life taken was what would separate him from everyone else in this unforgiving world. It also didn't really matter if he would do it before or after ripping the flesh out of his prey. With Arga he did it now, with the little spiketail he had done immediately after. What mattered to him was that he remembered it.
But it was also his past hypocrisy he remembered. With his spear he had already killed two sharpteeth, a two-footer and another fastbiter, and he had never even thought about paying them their last respects. It was at least that one fastbiter he had killed in cold blood, Falce, whom he should have done it to. But again, like with so many of his mistakes, it was too late to change that now.
After finally growing aware of everything around him again, he joined Chaser, who was already impatiently waiting at the longneck's abdominal region, and dug into his fresh kill. As always, no matter if leader or subordinate, it was the killer who would have the honor of the first bite.
The pack's territory:
Thud had to hold back an uneasy frown. The sight of the brown fastbiter approaching him, having his eyes firmly planted onto him with a grave face of his own, made him already expect another serious conversation. Right now, he was just asking himself about what topic that conversation would be held. Given what he had foolishly implied about the lost member and friend of this pack though, he could already guess it.
"Dear? Mind if you take over for a bit?" He inquired, still looking at Littlefoot, who was only about half a longneck-length away from him by now.
"Not at all." Swift responded. Of course she asked herself, too, what exactly was wrong all of a sudden but decided to not comment on it and instead let her mate and the leader of their hosts sort it out. She didn't even get to know the fastbiter who was supposedly the reason for all this trouble, so she would have surely just overcomplicated things with her opinion, she figured. Neither did Thud, true, but he was by far the most experienced sharptooth around here, so that more than made up for it.
Thud gave her a quick nuzzle and went off, while his mate turned her full attention to their little children. He only stopped when he stood face-to-face with Littlefoot, and a few moments of awkward silence followed.
"Seeker?" He then asked him in a respectful tone, already anticipating loads of earnest questions or maybe even an angry scolding coming from him.
"Thud." Littlefoot responded in the same manner. "I need to have another talk with you."
Thud didn't say anything in return. He gave Littlefoot a nod and, just like on the last day, followed him away from the other fastbiters. As he carefully eyed Littlefoot's posture and the way he was slightly looking at the ground, he couldn't help but feeling seriously concerned about him but also angry with himself. He had never imagined that precipitately mentioning this dark song he heard from around his own territory would have such an effect on the brown fastbiter. It pained him to see the otherwise so friendly, determined and great leader this torn.
And then Littlefoot finally stopped, took a deep breath and turned around.
"I would like you to sing that song you mentioned."
It really is about him again... Thud noted to himself, confusion, compassion, anger and annoyance alike in his thoughts.
"Seeker... I understand that you're concerned, but please, be..."
"No, Thud." Littlefoot interrupted him. "You can't possibly understand this. I thought he was a friend... I took him in, cared about him, related to him, let him join our pack. I told him my stories, all of my adventures and those of my friends... I let him know everything about me, about us... and I know almost nothing about him in return. Then, he just left without a single word, never to come back... And now, after all that's happened over the past days... after I'm finally seeing that all of this is connected somehow... All of his tricks and his behavior... I'm asking myself... Have I served a monster?"
That question struck Thud like a claw to his throat. After all, he knew just too well what it had been like to serve a monster. The difference was that he always knew what he had been doing, on which path he had wandered. It wasn't until Red Claw betrayed him and ordered him and his brother Screech to be killed that he had finally understood to what kind of destination that path would eventually lead.
Littlefoot on the other hand, in all his helpfulness and with his big heart, had most likely never seen this coming. He would never dare calling him naive, Thud reminded himself, but having such a great heart certainly was a grave weakness. The barely visible scar below the feathering on Littlefoot's neck was a testament to that. So now it seemed like someone else besides Calin had finally exploited that weakness.
However, to Thud, there was a serious logical fallacy here.
"I see... And how exactly do you think that could have happened? I don't know why I pushed that simple fact aside on the last day but Taunt told me that the fastbiter we're talking about was changed... Changed like you have been changed, once. So, say you're right and he really is alive... Those few bits of their song I've heard are from before that. The fastbiters have only arrived lately but that song is from a cold time, several back even, I'd say, and we're slowly approaching the next already. Would you not agree that this doesn't really make sense?"
"Normally, I would." Littlefoot gave his dry answer. "But not in this case. He's an adult fastbiter, Thud. Adult fastbiters don't just appear out of nowhere. Especially not when they're as big as him. Even if he really changed into a sharptooth like I did, he still must have grown up somewhere. And I remember how he always said that he didn't belong here. So I'm guessing where he actually belongs is where that song comes from. Those 'Far Lands'. Where exactly are they, anyway?"
"They have many different names. Some call them Far Lands, some call them Outlands and some others call them something entirely different again. I myself have only heard of them from songs and stories when I was younger. A big earthshake there, many seasons ago, ripped everything apart and destroyed whole herds. Now they lie separated behind mountains and huge crevices. Where they are, I absolutely don't know."
"Yeah... earthshakes destroy a lot." Littlefoot muttered to himself in a sad monotone, but the asking look of Thud made his voice turn serious again. "Anyway, please just do me this favor, Thud. I don't care how horrible that song is, I just want to know about it."
Thud used the moment of contemplative silence to go over what was on his mind. The song was very distinctive in terms of wording, and the overall theme of it was something he wouldn't just forget. Even though he had only heard parts of it from quite some distance away while marking the borders of his pack's territory, his markings had been tainted with feelings of deep anger and sorrow on that night.
"Very well... I only know the ending of it, but I think that's more than enough."
He took a few deep breaths, but decided to keep his voice at talking volume. This part of the song really didn't deserve being sung loudly. It didn't deserve any praise. It only deserved to be forgotten.
We were seven hunters, a bond forged out of blood and death
Sworn to prey together, to the day of our last breath
We traveled far and wide, thought our journey would never end
Yet we found what we could call home, a vast new land
We settled there with time, thought we had finally found our place
But came the cold season's embrace, one went missing without a trace
A brother to two, a friend and leader to the rest
When he came back, it should be our hardest test
Because he brought an ally, someone so unlike us
Neither fastbiter nor two-footer, a sharptooth with dark fuzz
As strange as he was, we foolishly didn't care
His honest friendliness, indeed something rare
We were not afraid, surely he would never dare
To harm those who took him in, a territory to share
It were two shadows that doomed us, we had no time to prepare
One of them our own, what followed was despair
The eighth night came, six in their sleep were deceived
By those we thought as friends, of three lives we have been thieved
For the good of all, so the traitor believed
To this day, the motives remain unperceived
Stryker, Nex and Gleam, their heads cleaved So each new day, we move into a crimson dawn
Raid, Stingclaw and Vis, so deeply grieved
We are three hunters, our journey still goes on
Thud finished the final part of the song with a suppressed, mournful howl at the sky, took another deep breath and mustered Littlefoot once more. At this point, he was expecting him to freak out and do something unreasonable, which would've been totally understandable. But that didn't happen. Littlefoot was looking him straight in the eye and kept a completely neutral face. However, Thud was far too aware of what could be going on behind that obvious mask, and his presumptions should be confirmed.
The brown fastbiter's eyes. In his piercing yellow eyes, usually filled with calmness and joy, there was a blazing hot fire burning. And then there were his scents. They were dominated by raw anger, but also confusion and deep sadness.
Thud knew these scents. These were the very same scents that radiated from himself back when his brother was murdered, back when he finally opened his eyes and saw the truth. These were the scents of a betrayed.
He just wanted to tell Littlefoot to stay calm and not do something rash but it was Littlefoot who spoke up first, and anything that could have possibly given away his current state of mind had disappeared from the realms of perception.
"Thanks, Thud. I won't bother you again." He said in a calm, relaxed voice. "Why don't you tell the others to prepare for a hunt? Spotter, Soar and their children are... busy today, so I think it's time for some tracking practice for me again."
Littlefoot's honest smile made Thud relax noticeably, too.
"I told you, you are growing too accustomed to having your personal flying tracker." Thud responded in jest, chuckled slightly and smiled back. "Will do."
Littlefoot had already turned around and already prepared himself to sprint off when Thud raised his voice once more.
"Oh, and Seeker...?"
"Yes?"
"Leave the wind in your wake."
Littlefoot answered with another smile and exploded into a sprint, truly teaching the wind a lesson in speed, making Thud lose his visual on him within moments. What the elder fastbiter did not realize, however, was that Littlefoot still had something on his mind.
So before he would track this morning's meal he would do something else, first.
Time to consult Path. If that doesn't lead to anything, it'll be up to you, Spotter... Please just tell me I'm wrong...
The Outlands:
Tap. Tap... Tap. Tap... Tap. Tap...
The sounds of his two sickle claws touching the ground in a perfectly rhythmic pattern spoke volumes about Specter's current thoughts. He asked himself exactly what Chaser would want to show him, and given what has happened so far could only lead him to one conclusion.
But he didn't have time to ponder about that any further, as Chaser finally finished his meal and walked up to him with crashing footsteps.
"Let's go." The two-footer just said.
Specter jumped up without hesitation and joined him by his side, albeit also slightly to his back. There was at least one case he knew of in his past home country's extensive history when walking directly besides the leader was considered such a grave insult that it had led to someone losing his life, so he figured it might not be any different in this time.
Especially not with a leader that used to be once known as 'Sharptooth', who was the son of none other than Red Claw himself.
But regardless of all that, he just felt sad. It was not his past life he consciously missed anymore but rather his pack. His first and actual pack. With them he had felt at home, felt cared about. They had found him, taught him, basically raised him and shaped him. Maybe some of their methods had been questionable but in the end it was probably for the best, considering how novel his whole personality was.
He especially remembered his training sessions with a certain purple two-footer, without whom he probably would not have been alive anymore.
Three weeks ago, one day after the events of Chapter 4:
"Thanks for helping me, Path. I really appreciate it."
"Don't mention it. I almost missed doing this, training ankle-biters." Chomper replied with a smile. "So, how are you holding up with that new body of yours?"
"Quite well." Specter said, stopped shortly and moved around every single part of his body, finishing with a quick jump before he continued his movement. "I have always been quick to learn new things but this is a bit... different from anything else so far."
"I can imagine."
"There is one thing I don't understand though... On my first hunt..."
"You felt like you lost control?" Chomper interrupted and finished Specter's question at the same time.
"Yes, I... Wait. How do you know that?" Specter asked in surprise. What had been going on inside his head on that day was not part of his song, after all.
Chomper laughed slightly at that.
"I thought you told us you were once one of the smartest creatures ever?" The jest in his voice disappeared at once as soon as he noticed Specter's dumbstruck face. "You really didn't notice, did you?"
Specter shook his head.
"Notice what? I thought that threehorn was going to..."
"Kill Seeker?" Chomper finished for Specter once more. "Did you honestly think an adolescent horn-face could take him down like that?"
His hearty laugh was retorted with an embarrassed, but also insulted look from Specter.
"But... I thought he... And... Ponder's scents... Spotter's reaction... How...?"
Chomper sighed and gave him an apologetic look.
"I'm sorry, Specter, I thought you would have figured it out by now. It was my idea, though it was meant for Seeker to use on that longneck in case something had gone wrong. I didn't expect him to dare testing it out on a threehorn but... well, that's how he is."
Specter still had the completely overwhelmed and dumbstruck look on his face, so Chomper decided to explain this in more detail.
"Alright listen, when the Stone changed most of us, the residents of the valley were not really happy when they found five fastbiters, a sharptooth flyer and a two-footer, me, who they never really trusted in the first place to be honest, instead of their children. So, naturally, they tried to kill us. You figure."
"Well..." Specter finally answered, but with a lot of confusion in his voice. "Seeker already told me he was an Apato... uhh... longneck once. So I guess since some of you guys used to walk on four legs, you could barely walk on two then. But all of you still made it out alive, it seems."
"Exactly. See, what you felt when you 'lost control' were your instincts taking over. It happens when you, a loved one or a friend is in danger. It forces us to act and unleash what's deep inside of us, and we will remember it. Seeker told me you needed to learn as fast as possible, to which I agreed, and this was the only option."
"What?! You're saying that... he tricked me?! He just pretended to be almost killed?!" Specter exclaimed.
"Well... Pretty much, yes. Spotter didn't know about this. And concerning Ponder... Didn't you notice the fresh wound on Seeker's face?"
"He told me he cut himself on some thorns..."
"Nope, that was her reaction for not letting her know, too." Chomper replied, this time without a smile, however. It was only now that he saw Specter's reaction that he understood what kind of effect it had on the black fastbiter. "But it worked out, didn't it? You learned faster than any of us."
Specter looked at the ground after hearing this, but not really out of anger. It was something else immensely bothering him.
"A fricking dinosaur outsmarted me..." He muttered to himself.
Chomper tilted his head at that.
"Uhm... In case you haven't noticed, you're one yourself. And you've been outsmarted by none other than Seeker. Where is the problem in that?"
"Because no damn dinosaur should..." Specter already started his insulted speech, but then took a deep breath and calmed his voice. "You're right, I'm sorry. I guess I owe both you and him..."
"No... There's no need for you to be sorry. I'm the one that has to apologize. I just wanted to spare you of what all of them, all of us, went through... and in the end I forced you to take two lives, just like Haven was forced to take one back then... This was such a bad idea!" He took a short pause there, trying to express how ashamed he really felt about this now. "But... trust me, the sooner you get used to killing, the sooner you will enjoy your life as a sharptooth."
Specter firmly shook his head, which made Chomper feel even more uncomfortable.
"No, Path, you were right. So was Seeker. It was probably for the best. I can't spend days learning how to properly sprint and use my claws. I need to know this now."
"Good, thank you." Chomper said in relief. "So, now that you're a bit more 'capable', let's do a proper hunt, shall we?"
Specter gave him a nod and the two massive predators accelerated the pace.
But Chomper was not done analyzing the fastbiter just yet, who was almost as tall as himself. He was not too annoyed by this though, as he was aware that he would still grow even bigger, just like his father. He felt a little bit out of place, not too much of a surprise, casually teaching a full-grown fastbiter such as Specter, but he trusted his story to be true. And besides, it only made him feel quite special. It was a testament to his abilities and Specter's confidence in him.
"Tell me about yesterday. Seeker told me you put up quite a show with those swimmers."
"I was lucky, that's all. Without that... uhm... what do you call it... 'Sky Boom' and 'Sky Fire'... I could not have pulled it off."
"We all need a bit of luck sometimes. You should not let that pull you down. Just be thankful for it and move on. But that's not what I'm interested in. That swimmer was your first actual kill with a clear mind. You wanted to kill her. How did that make you feel?"
Specter needed a while to think about this. This was a question he had never really asked himself and now that Chomper did, he didn't know how to put it.
"I... don't really know. Not good but... somehow calm and... satisfied... if that makes sense."
"Hm. Everyone has a different view on killing. As long as you're killing to stay alive, nobody can blame you for that." Chomper noticed Specter's silent affirmation in his eyes, but he definitely wanted to press another point. "However, you let her children go. Why?"
Specter was seriously taken aback by that question. It was an honest question and Chomper seemed to demand an honest answer from him.
"Because they were not my targets. I would never hurt a child." He responded.
Chomper let out another sigh before he spoke up again.
"There are two ways to take a life, Specter. One is to actively kill your target... the other is to let others do it, may it be other sharpteeth or just nature. You hurt those children far more with what you did than if you had just killed them, too."
"No! I didn't!" Came Specter's immediate and highly angered response.
Both hunters stopped in their tracks and Chomper almost flinched when he heard Specter's voice and smelled his scents. He had never expected such an outburst from the fastbiter, so he let him continue without a word of objection.
"I listened to what they said! The adult was their aunt and I told the children to go back to their parents! I did nothing wrong!"
Chomper waited patiently until Specter's breathing rhythm calmed down again. Only then, he raised his deep voice.
"Then you might have saved them. Just know that they will hate you for all their lives, kill you if they will ever get the chance."
"As if I would ever see them again... And even if I will... If that's what it takes, I'm fine with it. I don't like children but I would never kill them. Not for food, not for anything." Specter made clear with a firm voice.
Chomper felt the urge to use a funny line to redirect this whole conversation to a more relaxed topic, after all, the warm time had just passed and he was highly interested to hear about Specter's past mating habits, but decided against it and just remained serious about this.
"Very well, that's your choice then. We'll see how you think about it once you haven't eaten for a few days. Anyway, we're close now. Can you smell them already?"
Specter raised his head up high and sniffed the warm air of this afternoon profoundly.
"No, not yet."
"So I still have the best sniffer around." Chomper stated in a happier tone, and he was pleasantly surprised to see Specter smile again.
They returned their movement, and after what seemed to be about a kilometer to Specter, he stopped again to check for any scents.
"Now I smell them! Four swimmers. All of them adults, no children."
"You have quite the impressive sniffer yourself, for a fastbiter at least, I'll give you that. Almost as good as mine... Almost. One of them is a lot younger than the others."
"Well, thanks. I used to have horrible eyes without my glasses or contacts, but damn good ears and a pretty good nose in my past life and I think that sort of carried over. Only my eyes really got a lot better now and I can see... Uhm... never mind. Why would that be so important?"
"The difference between an experienced and a young adult could be the difference between life and death for you, should you ever be forced to hunt on your own. Maybe not with swimmers, but surely with let's say threehorns. Never underestimate that."
The tone in Chomper's voice reminded Specter a lot of an annoying teacher who tried to expose his students with their lack of knowledge. However, in this case, that knowledge was actually immensely helpful and there was an almost fatherly undertone he found as well, so he just figured that this must've been Chomper's way of forcing him to remember it.
"Makes sense. So, I guess I should be going after the younger one?"
"I would suggest so, yes. He will be faster, but he will also probably taste better."
Specter smirked slightly and licked his razor-sharp teeth. He had spent most of this day with refining his running technique and stamina, so he was pretty hungry at this point.
But before he could ask about some further advice, Chomper took the word again.
"Speaking of taste... How exactly did you kill your target yesterday?"
"Well, I wanted to make it as painless as possible so I ripped open her side with the claws on my hand and broke her neck with a bite."
Chomper noticed Specter's prideful confidence in that statement. And he wanted to praise him for that. However, he had noticed something else on the last day.
"And that's what you call painless?" He started, and despite Specter's stare of utter horror, he went further. "I could taste it in her flesh. Quite chewy, her muscles were all pulled together."
Specter knew exactly what Chomper's observations meant. Contracted muscles were prime evidence that death had been anything but 'painless' for a victim. Only now he realized that he had been so obsessed with talking to the little swimmer children that he completely neglected checking for the adult swimmer's death.
But Chomper didn't want to go too hard on him. Given that this was his first conscious act of killing, Specter had done an outstanding job in his eyes.
"Don't worry, it... happens. Going for her neck was the right move and if you do... make sure you break it. Or just try to use your feet more and leave the biting to a two-footer."
Specter took a quick glance at his two huge sickle claws, let them touch the ground a few times and gave Chomper an understanding nod.
"Alright. You know what to do. You wanted to approach them silently, which I think is totally unnecessary, but have it your way. From now on, we use signs."
Specter grunted in affirmation and the two hunters resumed their fast movement. The minutes went by and the swimmers' scents grew stronger with every step taken. The duo stopped once more when they both had visuals on their targets, which were standing in a group around 200 meters away from them.
Specter used his right forelimb to communicate his simple plan to Chomper. He pointed at the youngest swimmer, at himself, to the right, at Chomper, at the two-footer's throat and then to his left.
Chomper gave him a nod and slowly went off towards where Specter had pointed at while the fastbiter moved in the other direction. When both of them reached their positions, Specter raised his tail up high and wiggled it, shaking the golden feathers at its tip.
Chomper smiled at that unusual way of giving a sign and took a deep breath.
Roar!
His shattering roar echoed through the air and the group of swimmers burst into a headlong sprint. Directly at where Specter was waiting.
He exploded into a sprint as well from out of a few bushes, and the swimmers had no time to change their course anymore. His target was running at the front, so he already bent his tail down, prepared his powerful legs and then suddenly propelled all his weight upwards.
The swimmer had no time to evade that attack.
Screech! Shluck!
Following his predatory shriek, one of Specter's sickle claws dug deep into the leaf-eater's flank, piercing one of its lungs, while the other drilled through the flesh near its hind leg. His full weight combined with the momentum he carried threw the swimmer on its other side with a loud crash, and Specter graciously jumped off of his prey and landed with a soft thud on his feet.
But now there was nothing that could've distracted him from his target anymore. He went over to the swimmer's head, saw how it was bleeding out of its beak, already choking on its own blood, and kicked out once more.
Shluck!
This time, his killing claw pierced his target's throat and he immediately ripped it out again. For a few more seconds, the swimmer emitted the horrible sounds of the dying creature it was. Mournful sobbing, probably asking itself how and why this could have happened.
Specter knew the answer to that. It was simply for him and Chomper to live on. A necessary sacrifice. And as soon as the last breath of life faded away from the swimmer, he could hear Chomper slowly approaching him.
"Nicely done!" Came the booming voice from behind him. "If you keep this up, you'll make even angry threehorns run away in fear."
"Maybe... But what about other sharpteeth?" Came Specter's direct question.
"Why would you want to fight other sharpteeth?" Chomper asked the counterquestion in surprise.
"I don't. But what if they want to fight me?" Specter answered with a lot of concern.
"Then you have a whole pack of fastbiters and a two-footer to back you up."
Chomper's friendly smile prompted Specter to simply drop this topic. He didn't want to push himself too far and for now, he was just glad that he was making good progress and that he would soon be able to continue his mission.
And besides, surely he would never have to fight other predators anyway.
The present:
He had to sigh heavily at those memories. How naive he had been. How utterly stupid of him to think that he would be fine, always relying on his pack. What a pathetic idiot he was. He had ruined everything he had worked so hard for, for a mission without success. Out here, there were no friends to support him. No one would have his back. Someone like Chaser would most likely kill him or just leave him to his fate as soon as he would figure out that he just wasn't able to help him at all, that he was nothing more than a little black fuzzball in a world of giant killers.
"Stop."
Specter almost bumped into Chaser's rump when the two-footer suddenly said this and came to a halt, turning around.
"We're close now. I hope you're prepared to see this."
He gulped audibly but didn't say anything in return and let Chaser take point again.
"A herd of spiketails, ten adults and five children."
"Very good, Valaria!" Petrie praised his daughter.
The whole flyer family was soaring through the thick clouds in a loose wedge formation, using the thermal updrafts to carry them further and further without consuming too much energy. Petrie wanted to feel happy and excited about this little tracking exercise for his children. They had already proven themselves to be capable trackers but they still needed to learn much more, of course.
And yet, he just couldn't feel that way. The moment Littlefoot had come to him early in the morning, he knew he would have to carry quite a burden. Right now, he was just hoping that he could prove his leader wrong, that everything was like the rainbowfaces had told him.
"A two-footer and a fastbiter."
Petrie instantly snapped out of his thoughts and switched his attention to the ground. He laid eyes on a massive, dark green two-footer and a big, red fastbiter.
Two friends like that? Even out here? Wait... what...?
His eyes widened and he shot upwards to block his son's vision on the ground.
"Well done, Dive." He spoke to the surprised little flyer. "This be enough for today. Time to fly home."
Soar gave her mate an asking look but as soon as his eyes met hers, her heart seemed to have stopped beating for a moment.
"Yes... come now, children. Your father will follow us in a bit." She said and adjusted her course, which the children did without hesitation, too.
Petrie gave his departing family one last look before he folded his wings and dived down. He was way too high up to make out any distinctive details, even his with extremely good eyes, but one thing had not eluded him with that fastbiter.
That fastbiter has feathers...
For a moment, he felt overwhelming joy, but came the next, all of that was gone again.
No... His feathers were black...
He still was very surprised to see this, however. After all, Specter had been the only fastbiter other than the select few of the pack, the former leaf-eater friends which had been turned into sharpteeth, to have those things. He felt the urge to make his presence known to the two sharpteeth but decided against it. One could never be too careful in unknown lands, he thought to himself.
So he extended his wings again and resumed his glide. He could quite clearly see now that they were looking for something.
But for what?
Petrie decided to just search along the way they had come from, and soon hovered high above a massive longneck corpse, most of its body ripped apart.
Longnecks can grow this big?! Hm... They just had their meal. So why they still tracking something?
He looped and followed the sharpteeth again, with a very uneasy mind by now. That fastbiter was not the one he was looking for but it still had his full interest. He just knew that something was wrong here.
And then, around ten longneck-lengths away from the two predators and situated in a depression, he saw it. A lot more that of that crimson color.
By... the... Bright... Circle...
He flapped his wings as hard as he could and darted across the skies.
Chaser stopped right in front of the depression before him and turned his side towards Specter, blocking the fastbiter's view on what lay hidden behind his flank.
"So, do you want to meet the longneck herd I've told you about?"
Specter once again didn't say anything in return and just stepped forward. He certainly had his expectations on what he would be about to see now. There was no way for him to think positive anymore. Simply because he could already smell what he would soon see.
But when he finally looked down into the depression, it felt like the world came crashing down on him.
Oh... my... fucking... god...
Corpses everywhere. Five mutilated bodies of gigantic longnecks and around ten of smaller ones. The whole ground below them was drenched in blood and innards. And just like Arga had told him, they certainly had not been killed for food. The bodies were torn to pieces but none of them had too much of their flesh ripped out.
Without even thinking any further, Specter stumbled forwards and directly on the battleground. Never in his life had he seen anything like this, not even in the most horrifyingly gory movies he could have named. This was beyond his capabilities to describe. All of these bodies used to be living creatures just yesterday. Some of them multiple times his own size, some of them just as big, and some of them way smaller. The only thing all these longnecks had in common now was that they would soon turn into stinking, rotting carcasses. Some of them already were.
And then he laid eyes on something else. Two of the killed adults were females, sliced open at their abdomens, a dozen of underdeveloped eggs lying in their blood and guts.
They... killed... two pregnant females... Just like that... Just... to...
This was just too much to handle for him. He began to breathe heavily, his body started to shake, and then he finally raised his head in the air and vented all of his emotions.
Screech!
Petrie almost fell off the tree branch he perched on. He has heard his fair share of fastbiter cries in his life, but this was different. This cry, coming from this strange, red fastbiter, carried no sorrow. This cry was only filled with raw anger and pure hatred, which seemed to fill his very own heart even hearing it.
Given the sight of the murdered longneck herd, he certainly had great trouble keeping his own emotions under control.
But it also made him remember something. It sounded a lot like the cry he had heard quite a while back in his pack's territory, the same cry to which he had seen Littlefoot going to and finding Specter in the end.
But... that mean...
He shook his head. Maybe it was possible for some leaf-eaters to change into sharpteeth through this mysterious Stone, but a dead fastbiter awakening with changed colors? This couldn't be possible, there was no logical way. But he just had to make sure now. He had to see if it really was him.
So he jumped off the branch and shifted his vantage point to the closest one he would be able to get to without alerting the sharptooth of his presence. His new perch was only just over four longneck-lengths away from the fastbiter now.
And it was only now, from this straight angle, that he saw the fastbiter with all its details. Most of its rear and tail had large black spots and he could still quite clearly see those distinctive golden crest feathers running along from its head to its back. That red hue on the fastbiter's body wasn't a color it had hatched with.
That was blood. Crimson blood on pitch black feathers.
No... No! This can't be! Me know this not true! He would never do this to peaceful longnecks!
Petrie's thoughts were in utter chaos but he was certain that he was right with at least one assumption.
That this massacre had not been Specter's doing. In fact, he was so certain that he already extended his wings again to fly towards him. But that idea got cut short, as the massive two-footer from earlier moved next to the fastbiter.
And just like with Specter, it was only now that Petrie saw all the details. The dark green two-footer had a unique injury. Its right eye was not working anymore. And there was only one single two-footer Petrie knew of that had this combination of colors and injury.
He would never forget that disgusting face.
This sharptooth standing right next to who he had thought was a good friend of his pack, was the very same sharptooth that had tried to kill him in its last moments. This unrelenting beast that had chased him and his friends across the lands. And not only that. This sharptooth was also the son of Red Claw, who had taken so much from everyone.
Sharptooth?! It... him! How can...?!
Slice!
Petrie had just enough time to jump to the air and evade the flurry of claws coming from behind him. His perch had been quite near to the ground, which it was now lying on, and another fastbiter seemed to have noticed him spying on the two bigger sharpteeth. It was probably one of Sharptooth's minions, Petrie quickly noted to himself.
But he didn't care a single bit about almost having been killed or how many underlings this vile two-footer had. It was not for him to decide where to go from this point on.
He had completed his mission, the mission he had so much hoped would turn out to be a failure, and with an enraged heart, he shot back up into the sky and disappeared in the clouds again.
Neither Chaser nor Specter noticed the fast shadow emerging from the forest and vanishing in the sky. Both of them had their attention fixated on something different.
"Why?" Specter finally asked, with a voice that was still quaking with anger. "Why would someone do this?"
"To send a message." Chaser responded in his usual apathetic, dry tone. "They want us to be scared and give up our territory. That's the only reason they killed all these longnecks. Now, will you help me with those pests?"
Were Specter in full control of his emotions, he would have probably asked for another day to think about this or simply declined. As it was, however, his calmness and cool head were gone, and his answer came instantly.
"I will kill them... Every single one of them."
Chaser smirked at that. It filled him with unusual pride to see a fastbiter with a determination he had only seen in himself so far. But there were also some other feelings mixed in.
So you're brave, too... Let's see for how long. The brave are always the first to die.
And this is how I would like to conclude this chapter. It took me quite a long time as I had a lot of things to take care of, and when I was finally able to get back to writing, I had to "get used to it" again, too.
Nevertheless, I hope the outcome is acceptable, and I should have some more time for my writing in the next weeks.
So, thank you for bearing with me this far!
Take care, and until next time.
Revised