Hello, my fellow readers.

Another chapter is here and I can say after this one there are only about five more. It's another stepping stone towards the big battle, but there are several dark turns yet to come before the resolution. I won't give anything more than that.

Also, for those who might be wondering, we did decide to have Littlefoot and Cera become a couple in this story but only due to their shared species. Their relationship has always been one of the more intriguing ones in the LBT universe and though they have opposite personalities they remain best friends. Their feelings for each other will be a factor going forward.

Anyway, on with the story!

Chapter 22. Preparation

"Which death is preferably to every other? 'The unexpected'." Julius Caesar

Shorty had been taught his entire life that sharpteeth were something to fear. They were creatures of nightmares, one that consumed the flesh of the unfortunate in order to ensure their evil existence. He could remember times in his hatchling days, orphaned from the Great Earthshake, of hiding from the monsters who sought him out; fangs bared, sniffing for his scent, saliva ready to savor even the miniscule snack that he would have provided. As he grew older, and even large enough to defend himself from smaller predators, that fear turned to steely resolve and even a small form of hatred. The green brachiosaurus had seen enough dinosaurs killed, maimed, (or orphaned just as he was) to know what kind of pain a sharptooth could inflict.

How ironic it was, that his own brother was now the very thing he had been taught to despise, and yet would be assisting them in what was perhaps the most daring plan the valley had come up with to date.

Using knowledge of Red Claw's imminent attack, the members of the Great Valley would lie in wait to ambush the monster and his minions and successfully defend the home that had been a refuge for so many over the years. The flyers would be used as a liaison between the Valley and Littlefoot to communicate effectively before the battle. If all went according to plan, Red Claw would be caught unawares and thoroughly defeated once and for all, and his hold over the Mysterious Beyond broken.

Shorty sighed. That still did not resolve everything in a rather complex situation.

I suppose it's obvious but inevitable. How am I supposed to react when I see Littlefoot...like that? He's like me. We're longnecks fighting side by side. And yet when he arrives…

A mixture of fear and anticipation swelled within him. He had tried to envision the scenario several times, but as he did so he understood better why Bron had a hard time accepting Littlefoot as a sharptooth. Aside from the notion being completely preposterous (despite being true), it also opened up a whole host of other problems.

"He needs meat to survive. What if he can't resist trying to go after one of the valley members? One of us? What if he's crossed over?"

Shorty didn't like to overthink things, but it was hard not to in this situation. Littlefoot being his brother didn't change the fact that he was still the embodiment of everything he had been taught to run from, to fear, to fight…

"Kid, the only good type of sharptooth is a dead one. You remember that and you may just live to be as old as I am."

The flashback echoed in his head repeatedly. Shorty had met the old longneck on his travels before meeting Bron, and he had saved him from certain death. He had followed that rule to the letter for as long as he could remember. And now…

"I mean come on! I'm not going to kill him for goodness sake!"

Even as he thought it, he ignored a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that his herd, the Valley, Littlefoot and his friends; would not go unscathed before the battle was over. There was simply too much at stake. Too much blood on the line.

For all the times he had seen his fellow longnecks fall to the teeth of the enemy, so to had he seen his kind kill them as well. It wasn't pretty, it wasn't enjoyable, it was what had to be done.

Shorty pushed it all aside, even as the conflict still ate at his conscious. Above everything else, Littlefoot was his brother. They had a plan. Even now, with the teeth and claws of a killer, he and his gang were going to save everyone again. There was truly no one more noble than they were.

Could nurture overrule nature?

"The worst part of this will be seeing him with that weird muzzle and those dopey, stubby little arms," he chuckled to himself.

There was a slight rumble in the distance as storm clouds gathered to the east beyond the walls of the Valley, the same direction Red Claw was purportedly coming from. It was the calm before the storm, the quiver before the earthshake. It was enough to quell the young longneck's attempt at humor.

This was more serious than anything he had ever faced. He just hoped he was ready.

He hoped his brother was ready too.

The brown tyrannosaurus sighed with an audible rumble as he allowed his body to lounge against the sun-warmed ground. As he allowed the pleasant sensation wash over him he reflected with a mixture of amusement and annoyance that at least his stubby arms had one useful function: they did allow his kind to pick themselves off of the ground.

My kind… He reflected on his own thoughts for a moment. I guess it is my kind now. It isn't like we are really ever going to go back. But if we can end this monster and leave the valley on good terms…

He closed his eyes as a growl left his throat. At least we might be able to say our goodbye properly this time.

"Napping again? Or do I have get your lazy butt up for the millionth time?"

Littlefoot did not bother opening his eyes at his friend's intrusion. It wasn't like she had surprised him as he smelled her scent from a mile away. Instead he merely smiled. "Just preparing for first watch by getting some shuteye."

"That's what you said yesterday. And the day before that, and the day before that…"

"I like to sleep. What do you want from me? I'm a growing sharp-"

He cut himself off.

A soft look of sympathy appeared in his girlfriend's eyes.

"You can't do it can you? Even if we've been this way all this time. There's that small part of you that still thinks of himself as a dumb flathead."

Littlefoot rolled his eyes playfully. "A not so small part of you still thinks of yourself as an insolent, bad-tempered horn-face, so we are even there."

Cera gave her classic *humph and stuck her muzzle proudly in the air.

"You're damn right. You can't take the threehorn out of the sharptooth you know."

Littlefoot snorted as he gestured for her to join him. There was nothing better in the light of the Bright Circle than a warm spot away from the arid wind. Though his exaggerated gesture looked less inviting, and more comical, due to his tiny arms.

"This whole experience hasn't been easy for any of us," she said as the orange sharptooth lay down beside her boyfriend. "But if there's one positive that came of this, it's...what we have now. Us together."

Littlefoot did not hesitate to give her an affectionate nudge. "It is something that I do not want to lose. But we are taking one heck of a risk here. We all are."

"Do you suppose this happened because...well we're the same kind of dinosaur?" she asked.

The former longneck shifted a bit uneasily as he studied her beautiful face, the formidable musculature of her body, and her tiny arms. But none of those things were really what attracted him to her. "I think this happened because we both had something… and now we can be open about it."

"But can we really say we felt this way when we were just a longneck and a threehorn?"

"I did."

Littlefoot jerked once he realized what he had just said openly. He had no doubt that Cera the threehorn would have rammed him into oblivion and called him a stupid flathead if he had expressed such a sentiment back in their leaf-eater days. But though he would have never acted on the soft whisperings of his heart back then, with the lack of repercussions his situation now provided him he could be honest with himself.

Though he had not intended to be this honest with the companion who now lay beside him. Not yet. For the first time in several weeks a new emotion began to peek through his mind. The slightest hint of fear. How would she react?

"Me too."

A part of her was as surprised with herself as Littlefoot seemed to be. Maybe it was never said in so many words, but secretly she had always admired, even liked the flathead a great deal. Of course she would never admit it to anyone in those days, but it seemed like their time as sharpteeth had brought them closer than ever before. Perhaps it was coincidental, or maybe the spark was there all along, waiting to be kindled.

"You know you're thinking it as much as I am," she spoke again.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't play dumb, Littlefoot, I know you well enough by now. This works because we're out here in the Mysterious Beyond, trampling along as carnivores with no one to supervise or care what we do other than Red Claw. And he isn't exactly the romantic type."

Littlefoot snorted at that comment.

"But it all comes back to the same thing. If we do end up changing back, I'll be a threehorn and you'll be a longneck. Are you really naive enough by now to believe that will work?"

Littlefoot grew silent upon hearing his own silent fears being echoed by his companion. If they could escape from their curse then they would be cursed with what could never be. In fact, if he was honest with himself, he had to acknowledge that the curse no longer felt like a curse. But he could not doom his friends to a fate of feasting on meat simply due to his romantic desires.

But would he be dooming them? If he and Cera killed then they would only be dooming themselves, and the others could return as they were…

No. He chided himself mentally. Me being with Cera is not a curse… but to willingly be doomed to taking the lives of others… I am still a longneck. Somewhere. Somehow. We will get back to what we were. But even in his mind he was wavering.

"There is one way to ensure that we won't change back," Littlefoot said reluctantly, "But we both know what that will cost."

He allowed his eyes to fall upon hers as he awaited a reply. It was in times like this that he wished he could read his counterpart's mind.

The orange T-Rex shifted her weight and looked away slightly.

'I know the cost' Cera thought with some bitterness. She would never say it aloud, but she had grown to care a great deal about the boy next to her, almost to the point to where taking another life would be worth spending the rest of her life with him.

'Almost'.

"I think we owe it not just to our families, but to ourselves to see what the rainbow faces meant by walking in Chomper's footsteps," she replied. "You and I both know we have to be stronger than that. Even if…"

She lost her train of thought and instead settled for resting her head on his bigger shoulder. It was a gesture Littlefoot returned as he gently nuzzled her, enjoying every private moment he had with his girlfriend. He would never forget this.

That was when the sound of stealthy feet registered in both of their ears. Which was promptly followed by the unwelcome commentary of Thud.

"Save that for the Night Circle, will ya? I don't want to have to gouge out my own eyes!"

"Don't look, Spike!"

Littlefoot could only roll his eyes as the green fisher covered her brother's eyes playfully as he made a disgusted look on his face. This was followed by Petrie landing nearby with an exaggerated gesture, "We come at bad time?"

To the surprise of absolutely no one, especially Littlefoot, Petrie was answered by an annoyed growl and the gradual rising of the orange tyrannosaurus. Littlefoot decided to do the same lest he suffer one of Cera's threatened butt kickings.

"Piss off, Hot Shot!"

The rest of the group laughed and for a brief moment it seemed like they were all back in the Valley again, enjoying an innocent moment. Alas, Thud snapped them out of that fantasy.

"Alright, alright enough games. Let's not forget why we're all here. And keep it down as we do not want anyone to overhear."

"You're right of course," Littlefoot acknowledged as he rose himself. "But I thought it best to go over our plan before we arrive at the Valley. Too many things can go wrong."

"Knowing our luck what can go wrong will go wrong," Ruby agreed as she walked beside Chomper's attentive form, "Smell anyone, Chomper?"

The purple sharptooth merely shook his head. "There is no one upwind that I can smell."

Thud snorted, "Great. We would hate for our former flathead's plan to take over the pack revealed. I rather enjoy having my head attached to my body."

"Oh, you use that term too?"

"What term?"

"Enough," Littlefoot interrupted a bit sourly. "We're here to go over the plan to get rid of Red Claw, not Cera's juvenile nicknames."

Ducky giggled slightly (as much as a sharptooth can). "So what did you want to discuss, Littlefoot?"

Littlefoot looked at the others seriously. "Let's talk about how we are going to off the Boss. If he goes then Screech doesn't have a chance. But we will only get one shot at this," he looked at each of his packmates in turn, "none of us can fail."

As the pack looked at one another grimly they began to walk closer to one another, forming a cohesive circle well away from the nearby bushes. Where an unseen onlooking could not venture lest he give away his location.

Sneering at the conspiracy being laid out in front of him in hushed tones, Screech reluctantly snuck back into the bushes. Redclaw had to be informed of this. His own life depended on it.

"So what is their plan of attack?"

The young flyer looked up at the exiled rogue with a mixture of excitement and misgivings. He had heard of the elder's misdeeds and the rest of the valley's distrust, but he couldn't help but be excited by the prospect of what was to follow. It would be dangerous. It would be a bloodbath one way or another. But it would also help him earn his place as a flyer worthy of name.

Though neither he or the other young males would admit it this was their chance to rise into adulthood on the wings of an adventure. They only hoped that by the end of it they would have both their names and their bodies to show for it.

As a result both he and the other young flyers stood on the branches of an ancient tree, awaiting their moment of destiny.

"Red Claw and his 'pack' are planning to attack the Great Valley from multiple fronts. One group, lead by the the fast biters will enter through the main entrance and engage in a chase with the majority of the adults. The other group, lead by Red Claw, will use the knowledge of the Hidden Canyon to surprise the rest of the valley and kill as many as they can before retreating."

"Why retreat?" one flyer asked.

"The idea is not to conquer but to demoralize, which in its own way is worse," Pterano replied with a note of bitterness in his voice. "The valley is currently preparing for this attack, but we must be the connection between the two groups. If Red Claw somehow alters the plan, or something goes wrong, the residents of the valley must be warned."

"So some of us need to be around the youngling-killers?" A female voice asked.

"Keep your distance," was the curt response. "Red Claw is clever, and his fast biters almost equally so. If he gets wind of your presence other than the usual scavenging he may grow suspicious. Only engage in direct contact if you know for sure that the brute or his minions are two miles away."

This made one of the branches sway as its occupant grew agitated, "Aw, come on! Sharpteeth don't know their tail from their butt! We could fly in, listen, and fly out."

"Yeah!" Another male voice agreed, "He will think we are following them for the scraps!"

The exile's eyes flashed ever so slightly as he rose himself to his full height.

"Let me make it clear that this is not some game or ridiculous quest to earn yourself an arbitrary status of glory. Lives are at stake, and the chance to finally rid ourselves of the monster who is an enemy to us all, is what's most important. And I will not tolerate any foolhardy nitwit who thinks he is so intelligent that they forego necessary precautions. Is that understood?"

Pternao's lofty language must have confused them, because his speech was met with blank stares and a small cough. Rolling his eyes, he was about to make the meaning clearer, until a rough voice behind him took the words out of his mouth.

"In other words, don't fuck up."

It was Valo and the rest of his flyer posse who arrived on the scene. And their presence was felt immediately.

"Ah, Valo. Right on time as usual," Pterano jabbed slightly.

"Good to see you too, Sir Pompous," was the reply. "Thought you'd like to know that I just received word from Little Claw- er foot. As of now, the plan remains the same. Red Claw plans to attack the same entrances in the same way."

"Who is this guy?" A male voice asked before being smacked by one of the few females in the group.

"That's Petrie's friend, beak-for-brains! Remember the briefing?" She retorted in her native leaf-eater tongue, more than a little annoyed that her cousin was not putting her kind in the best light amongst the fish-munchers.

"Urgh… save it for the hatchling-killers, Rena!" He retorted weakly in sharptooth, trying to save any dignity from his ill-advised display. The change in language was a clear sign it was for the consumption of the sharptooth flyers about them and not for her.

"We're the guys who do their jobs. You gotta problem with that?" one of Valo's gang shot back.

Before the situation could get any more tense, Pterano intervened, his giant wings forming a wall between the sides of the branches containing each group.

"If you're quite finished squabbling, we have more important matters to attend to," he said irritably. "We have a common enemy who makes life difficult for all who cross his path, leaf eater and meat eater alike. It is up to us to play our part in taking this monster down. Does anyone have any objections? Or shall I knock some sense into your thick skulls?"

The message was clear, and everyone, Valo included, nodded.

"Good. You," he said pointing to the initial group of leaf eating flyers. "Will answer to Valo as they have the most experience throughout these lands, and are seen as part of Hot-Petrie's friends by Red Claw. Stick to the plan and keep your eyes and ears out for any changes. With any luck, we should be rid of this savage by three days time."

He noticed a figure below as the afternoon sun bore down on them all. It was Littlefoot and he was following behind Screech in the direction Red Claw was last supported. A jolt of anxiety surged through the giant flyer but he did not show it.

He merely said, "Perhaps more than just luck is needed."

"So the plan is to spread disease in the valley? Wouldn't that make us sick as well?"

Littlefoot tried to keep his fears at bay as the horror of Redclaw's plan confronted him. Why had Redclaw not mentioned this before? And why had the entire pack been told something else? In any case he could show no fear lest Redclaw detect his motivations.

He had to make sure that whatever Redclaw's plan was that it would not succeed.

The massive tyrannosaurus snorted. "The illnesses the food gets is not the same as us, the choosers of the dead. What does this look like to you, Little Claw?"

The brown tyrannosaurus looked up with surprise at where the larger dinosaur was gesturing. It was only then that he noticed that Redclaw was gesturing at a tall and narrow opening in the rock wall. A slit of darkness in a desolate wall of stone.

"Um… a cave?" Littlefoot answered.

Redclaw nodded, "Yes, but it is also our path to victory. A sick longneck walked in there not so long ago, but I am too large to fit in there and the others are too small to be able to carry it out," he looked at the slightly smaller sharptooth, "I have confidence in you."

"What lays inside?" the brown sharptooth asked pointedly.

"Consider it a test of sorts," the massive green beast replied. "And I advise that you not fail me."

Swallowing, Littlefoot considered his options. All of his instincts said to him that whatever Red Claw wanted him to do was not in his best interest...at all. But to disobey him was equally foolhardy. So what was the best option to choose?

"I'm waiting, Little Claw."

That got the former longneck's attention. He knew that tone and what it meant and without a second's delay, he headed into the small cave.

As he entered, a potent odor hit his nostrils, one that was simultaneously powerful and appetizing.

What, does he want me to eat lunch before we go to the Valley?

As he stepped further in the cave, the odor became stronger and by now Littlefoot knew that whatever was in here wasn't alive...in fact it had probably been dead for a few days now. The scent smelled suspiciously like…

"What is this?" he asked aloud, as his voice echoed off of the cave walls.

"It's quite simple really. It's the last piece of my plan."

Without warning, a cracking sound echoed throughout the cave walls, which alarmed the young sharptooth. But even more terrifying was the light suddenly disappearing, as the entrance to the cave was being blocked off.

"You've come so far in your new form, Little Claw," said the deep, guttural voice of the monstrous sharp tooth.

"Wait! What are you doing?!"

Littlefoot dashed towards the entrance in the hope that he could somehow squeeze through, but it was too late. By the time he reached it, he could see nothing as darkness enveloped his senses. As a result, others became heightened.

"I can't take any chances. My victory over the Valley will not only be total but deliciously ironic. How will they react when their greatest hero, starving and in agony, feasts upon their flesh and chomps on their bones?"

Littlefoot, now fully realizing what Red Claw's intentions were, rammed furiously against the boulder that prevented him from escaping his newfound prison. He roared with tremendous anger, shaking the cave walls, until he realized it served no purpose other than to increase the chances of the cave collapsing around him.

"You will not leave this place until I say so, young one," the smooth, guttural tone replied, as if to mock his efforts to break out of the cave. "You are the final piece to my greatest triumph. When this is over, you will become the sharptooth that was always inside of you. It is your destiny."

Littlefoot panted, as his heart pounded furiously, while realizing he was trapped with no way of escaping Red Claw's torment. He had been tricked, and he had been stupid enough to fall right into this trap. Anger surged through his body as to curse himself would not be enough to placate his rage.

"Fuck you, Red Claw! When I get out of here, I'll rip out your spleen and feast on it!"

But that only served to amuse the brute further.

"I see my plan has merely angered you further. Good, good...also, that dead longneck you smelled was not inside the cave…"

A small 'plop' was audible just outside his prison.

"It was outside."

The smell of dead longneck was now more potent than ever as the delicious, rotting scent wafted into Littlefoot's nostrils, causing him to salivate.

"Oh by the way," the evil, guttural voice spoke one more time. "Hope you enjoy your gift."

Little Claw struggled against his rocky prison, but to no avail. It was only when he stopped struggling that he noticed the footsteps of the massive predator in the distance, leaving him alone with his torment. In the end there was only silence.

Silence and the scent of his former kind, just out of reach.

The chapter ends on a rather disturbing note, which is unfortunately necessary.

Been considering moving this to M...perhaps it doesn't need the change in rating. But it's safe to say the group will be fighting for their lives soon enough.

Next chapter in two weeks.

~The Wasp