Hey there, and welcome back to a new story of mine. I know I said that I'd take a break from writing FanFiction stories, but I read a few that got me interested. Basically, these are Land Before Time stories about what would happen if Littlefoot and his friends never reached the Great Valley or if they die while so young. Some of those stories include Scrambled Eggs by OwlsCan'tRead and The Road's End, The Friendship's Rebirth by Keijo6. While those are pretty dark, the source material is pretty dark itself, so it translates to many of the stories that focus more on that tone (as OwlsCan'tRead had told me).

I love happy endings and bittersweet endings, but rarely do I enjoy much tragic endings. Those I do like are Romeo and Juliet and the Red Dead Redemption series (the latter does it very well, especially with the first game). So I've decided to try my hand in a tragic ending for once, and I hope I did this one well. Like I've said before, constructive criticism is always welcome, so feel free to correct me if I got anything wrong here (like with grammar and characterization or incomplete sentences).

Disclaimer: The Land Before Time belongs to Don Bluth and Universal Studios, not me.

Publishing Date: March 23, 2020

Time and Tide

It's over, Littlefoot thought as he looked down the cliff with his friends. Where they were looking down at was a pool of water, in which the body of a massive carnivore was sinking to the bottom. It's finally over. Sharptooth is dead.

The young longneck thought that he should feel triumph. After all, he and the friends he had made on this journey had just overthrown Sharptooth, the most vicious dinosaur to walk the planet. He had been partly responsible for the death of Littlefoot's mother, as the Great Earthshake had finished her off, and he had kept stalking the children throughout the wilderness. He had not forgotten the malicious joy in his undamaged eye as he had found them sleeping, nearly stomping the life out of them. Now they had come up with a plan to finish him off once and for all by pushing a huge boulder onto him, and thanks to the arrival of Cera, it worked.

But the death of Sharptooth came at a price, a price that was very bitter to swallow. They had just lost Petrie the flyer, who had just learned to fly and helped distract Sharptooth. Poor Petrie never stood a chance as Sharptooth grabbed on to his leg with his teeth and dragged him down with him to a watery grave.

"Poor Petrie," Ducky whispered, sharing sad looks with her friends. The little green swimmer stayed behind while the three bigger dinosaurs stepped away from the cliff. "Poor Petrie..."

Littlefoot gave her a solemn look and was ready to lead the way. Then, just as they were nearing the rocks which marked where the cliff began, they heard a gasp come from behind them.

To their utmost surprise, Petrie was pulling himself up to the cliff's edge, wet and out of breath but still alive. "Stop!" he cried. "You...go on without Petrie?"

"Petrie?" Ducky repeated the name, a smile coming onto her face. She ran over to pick him up as he collapsed, scooping him up into her arms. "You are alive! Yep, yep, yep, yep, yep!"

Littlefoot, Cera, and Spike shared joyful looks. Everyone had made it out alive after all. They instantly turned in an about-face and ran back to where Ducky had picked up Petrie.

But as they got closer, Ducky stopped and let out a gasp, and their joy instantly turned to shock. When Petrie held up an arm, they saw that most of the skin on his right wing had been torn off. The leg that Sharptooth had been scarred by his teeth; a scarred leg had more chances of recovery than a torn wing.

"Me got away from Sharptooth," rasped Petrie, his voice hoarse from shock and relief from being alive. "But Sharptooth claw snag on Petrie wing. Me not know what to do." Tears were starting to form in his eyes as he gazed down at his torn wing. "Me finally fly, and Sharptooth tear wing up! Petrie never fly again!"

"We cannot fix a ripped-ed wing. No, no, no," Ducky replied. Next to her, Spike grunted while nervously munching on a bit of green food. "Can we? Can we fix it?"

Cera shook her head. "I'm no flyer, that's for sure, but I'm sure a torn wing is difficult to fix," she said. "Not sure what to tell you. What do you think, Littlefoot?" She turned to Littlefoot to see if he could do something, or at least say something. "Can a wing like that be fixed?"

Littlefoot had braced himself to hear Cera sneer some more if he couldn't get an answer; it would probably get her to keep up about the boast of "flat-heads" having very little brains. But to his surprise, her voice held none of the venom that she displayed while on their journey. Instead, her voice sounded more unsure, willing to hear what others' suggestions were. Perhaps getting nearly attacked by dome-heads and humiliated earlier had rattled her head in more ways than one.

So Littlefoot lowered his head to take a closer look at Petrie's wing. Most of the membrane was definitely ripped off; any remaining bits would be completely useless for flying. He lifted his head back up, giving Petrie a "bad news" look.

"I'm sorry, Petrie," he said. "But the wing's damaged beyond repair. I don't think you'll get to fly ever again."

Petrie lowered his beak and sniffled. "Oh well...it nice to fly while it lasted," he mumbled. "Me land-walker from now on."

Ducky gave the forlorn flyer a big hug, and Spike walked forward to nuzzle the two. Littlefoot and Cera watched them with sympathetic looks before looking up to the sky. The Bright Circle was high in the sky yet; there was still some distance to travel, to get to the Great Valley.

"Come on," declared Littlefoot at last. "We don't have that long to go."

'Hopefully not," added Cera, now with a hint of mild sarcasm. "I didn't come all this way to just stand here all day."

Littlefoot let Petrie climb up onto his back, where the beloved treestar - a gift from his mother - had once rested. He would be Petrie's form of transportation until they reached the Great Valley. Once they would get there, the flyer would need all the support he could get from his family.

So they continued their journey. The landscape they were travelling in had a lot of craggy canyons and rocks that jutted up to the sky in straight towers. The Bright Circle was brutally hot this day, forcing them to travel without much shade.

Food wasn't much of a problem to find, but there was so little. A few bits of green food poked out of the canyon walls, barely enough to satisfy a bigger leaf-eater. Ducky and Petrie were able to accept this due to their smaller size, but it wasn't enough for Littlefoot, Cera, and Spike. While Cera was irritable due to not having enough food, she didn't voice her opinion as pushily as before. Water, however, was scarce here, with a spring not giving enough water to satisfy them; Littlefoot wished that they had drunk some more water where they had drowned Sharptooth.

When they reached the end of the canyon, they looked upward. They were staring at what looked like the face of a steep mountain, where sky puffies were swirling around the rock towers. Littlefoot almost swore that he saw the formation of a sky puffy in the shape of a longneck, bending its "neck" to peer down at them. Is that you, Mother? he wanted to ask aloud. Are you showing us the way to the Great Valley?

But as soon as they had stopped at the foot of the mountain, a hiss froze them in their tracks. Littlefoot stood as still as he could, slowly turning his head to where the hiss had come from. His friends followed suit, fear evident in their eyes.

That was when they came into view: four fast biters. These fast biters had feathers on them; three had brown-and-white feathers, while one had blue-and-gray feathers. At the head of this pack was the blue-and-gray fast biter, flexing one of the large claws on his feet. Just as soon as their eyes fell on the children, they let out screeches.

"Sh-sh-sharpteeth!" stuttered Petrie, his beak clattering with fright.

"Everyone! Run!" Littlefoot yelled.

Petrie held on to his neck as much as he could while Littlefoot began the retreat. Cera and Spike were behind them, with Ducky riding on Spike's head. With a snarl, the fast biters went after them, nearly catching up to them and snapping at their heels. Cera actually turned heel and ran at one of the fast biters, grazing her flank with her horn. The fast biter that she had injured lashed out with her claws, scratching her along the right cheek, and Cera had to fall back. In spite of the scar oozing blood, she wore this scar with pride.

As they ran, Littlefoot let out a yelp as he suddenly felt the ground disappear from under him. He was sliding down a rock face, Petrie clinging to his neck as he screamed for dear life. Cera and Spike were sliding down too, with Ducky hanging on to Spike's head with her eyes tightly closed. Fortunately, they came to stop on some sand, which had softened their landing, and they kept running. They couldn't stop to take a break, not with hungry predators on their tails.

Littlefoot was just done catching his breath when he felt something wet crash against his feet. He turned around while Petrie climbed up to the top of his head to get a better look. Before the five friends stood a vast body of water, more water than they had ever seen in their short lives.

"Wow..." gasped Petrie, his beak dropping before he closed it. "Look like Big Water!"

"I have heard of the Big Water," explained Ducky. "My mama told me about how dinosaurs visit the Big Water, but they cannot live there. No, no, no."

"Petrie hear it too," said Petrie, nodding down to Ducky. "Flyers sometimes go to Big Water, to catch scaly swimmers. They say all flyers come from Big Water."

Ducky smiled. "What if all swimmers like me had come from the Big Water? Everything has to come from somewhere."

As Ducky explained more about what she learned, Littlefoot blinked as he watched the horizon. Somehow, something that looked like an island had appeared far away, an island lush and green. He blinked again, and the "island" seemed to disappear from view.

"Littlefoot. Hey, Littlefoot! Are you awake or not?"

He drew himself out of his thoughts as Cera nudged him. Ducky even added, "You looked like you were in a sleep story with your eyes open. You even looked a little weird." She couldn't help but giggle as she had said this. "You did, you did."

"Sorry. I just thought..." Littlefoot strained his eyes again to the horizon. "I just swore that I saw an island."

"An island?" Petrie asked. "What island?"

"It was out on the horizon, I don't know surely," said Littlefoot. "But whatever that island is, there's got to be green food and fresh water there."

Cera quickly spun around to look behind her. "Whatever island you're talking about, you better pray that it exists. If we don't start moving, we'll be sitting eggs!"

The others looked around too. Just as they had not hoped, the fast biters had found them. The leader of the pack bared his teeth, and his followers fanned out to either side of him. Fortunately, what separated them was the sheer drop from the cliff. The children had been lucky to slide down the rock face; the fast biters weren't willing to take that chance. So they started slowly climbing down the rocks, one by one.

"In the water!" Littlefoot shouted. "We'll swim for the island!"

This time, they needed no prompting. Spike plunged in first, braving the first wave that crashed into him. Ducky clung on tight as the water washed over them, and Spike started paddling. Once they could no longer stand, Ducky jumped off and started paddling alongside her "brother". She had learned a lot about swimming from her mother and was now putting those lessons to the ultimate test.

To Littlefoot and Cera's utmost surprise, Petrie jumped off of Littlefoot's head and scurried into the next wave coming in. The water pulled him away from the shore, leaving him paddling after Ducky and Spike while coughing up water.

Cera was staying on the beach at first, trembling yet still looking defiant. "Before we go into the water, Littlefoot, I need to get this off my chest." She took a deep breath and said, "I usually don't like admitting when I'm wrong, but...I'm sorry for everything. Sorry for the name-calling, the attitude, and...and for calling your mom stupid. If you don't wanna forgive me, I understand."

"Cera, I do forgive you," said Littlefoot. "It really hurt to hear you insult my mother, but I'm willing to put it behind me." And to show it, he gently rested his tail on the threehorn's flank.

"Thanks, Littlefoot," said Cera with a small smile. "For a longneck, you've steered everyone right the whole time. I'll follow you anywhere, you flat-head."

Now Littlefoot couldn't help but smile in return. It was the first time Cera had ever used that insult as a term of affection.

"So...now we swim?" asked Cera. "That island's pretty far away. Are you really sure this is the right way? We could drown out there."

Littlefoot stepped forward until the water crashed against his feet. "Yeah...yeah, we could drown, you're right. But we can try to make it anyway."

Hissing noises brought them to their attention. The fast biters had gotten to the bottom of the rock face and landed on the sand, snarling and lashing their tails. One of them even licked its chops, waiting for leaf-eater meat to get between its teeth. Littlefoot gulped. There was no more time for any more words.

With a shout, he plunged into the waves and started paddling. It felt nothing like lake water or river water. This water was a lot more violent, and not to mention much saltier to the taste. Behind him, Cera followed, charging at the next wave as if it was another threehorn. They kept paddling on until they could reach their other friends, when their feet no longer touched sand.

On the shore, the fast biters let out snarls of frustration, watching their prey escape their grasp. But there was nothing they could do, and they couldn't swim much. So they spun around and walked away to find easier food, perhaps some carcasses that washed up on the beach.

The five friends swam on and on, seeing nothing but water. Occasionally, they saw scaly swimmers zip past them, just little flashes of silver darting here and there. Littlefoot ducked his head underwater briefly to see them, and he couldn't see the bottom at all. All he could see far below was nothing but water.

Suddenly, Littlefoot felt his legs start to tire. He tried as best as he could to paddle until he could paddle no more. Cera was keeping up as well, and Spike was floating along, wheezing as he tried catching his breath. Ducky and Petrie, however, were tiring fast, and while Ducky was a talented swimmer, even she couldn't swim forever.

"I cannot swim anymore. I can't - ," panted Ducky, interrupting her pattern of speech as she coughed.

"Keep swimming!" Littlefoot tried encouraging her. "And everyone else too. We have to be near that island!"

"What if there...no island?" Petrie rasped, swallowing more sea water. "We die out here!"

"Don't say that. There's gotta be an island!" yelled Cera, her voice raspy as she panted. "You heard Littlefoot! Just keep...swimming!"

But there was no denying it. Everyone was getting exhausted after hours of swimming. They were going to die, in the dark depths of the Big Water. And if they were to die far away from the Great Valley, it would be together.

As the Bright Circle started to go down, the first to go was Petrie. Having a torn wing meant that he could no longer keep afloat. He gave a tear-jerking "Goodbye!" before he sank below the waves for the final time. Beneath the waves, Littlefoot saw Petrie's eyes close as he slowly drowned.

Next was Spike. In spite of his body fat keeping him afloat, it could only do so for so long. With a cry, he slowly sunk under the water, though he ended up swallowing more water than usual.

"Spike!" Ducky called out. "I will be with you! Yep, yep, yep! Goodbye, friends!"

She let herself sink below the surface to be with her adopted "brother" for the last time. Littlefoot and Cera weakly murmured their goodbyes as they watched Ducky cling to Spike's head while they sank.

"Littlefoot...we're not gonna make it..." wheezed Cera, coughing as she swallowed salty water. "Are we...?"

There was no jumping around the bush this time. Littlefoot swallowed, his throat drier than ever, and rasped with defeat, "No...we're not..."

Cera coughed and struggled to stay above the surface long enough to say her final words. "I gotta say...it's been great travelling with you...I'll see you and the others...in the Great Beyond..."

Littlefoot managed a weak smile and nodded. "Yeah...you too. We all made it here together..."

And at that, Cera sunk beneath the waves as well. She seemed to struggle to float back to the surface, but more gasping, and she finally gave up her fight. The last he saw of her was her body sinking to join those of Ducky, Petrie, and Spike.

His four only friends in the world were now dead. Littlefoot was the last one alive, paddling all alone as he watched the Bright Circle going down. It was a lonely feeling, one that would not last long; he could even remember the old dinosaur Rooter saying that not everyone would reach their end days together. He paddled as best as he could, but he was starting to feel completely exhausted.

"Is that it?" he asked himself, straining his eyes. "Is that the island?"

But in the end, he knew that he was fooling himself. There was no island after all; it was nothing more but a mirage. They had all been paddling out here for nothing, and now they were dying for nothing.

No. Not for nothing, Littlefoot corrected himself. He knew that they would never make it to the Great Valley, to be reunited with their families or whatever remained after the Great Earthshake. But he had gotten something else out of his adventure to the Great Valley: the company of friends

I'm sorry, Mother, Littlefoot prayed, unable to keep his head above water anymore. The Bright Circle was almost gone, casting the world in a dark shadow. I failed to get us to the Great Valley...but at least we won't die alone.

So he slowly started to sink along with his four friends, water filling his lungs and cutting off his breathing. The last thing he ever felt before his death was the spirit of a longneck beside him, nuzzling him with tears running down her scarred cheek.

...

In the darkness of the Big Water, a swimming sharptooth cruised along lazily, letting the current take his huge bulk along. There was no light from the Night Circle tonight, throwing the Big Water in total darkness; sky puffies didn't even need to cover said circle. He was a king of swimming sharpteeth, a beast with a large long head, a short neck, and a big body supported by four flippers. He was also rather old for someone of his species, living for countless seasons and eating whatever could fill his belly. Not many dared cross paths with him, leaving him to rule the Big Water unchallenged for the most part.

Just then, he noticed something floating down to the bottom of the Big Water. The swimming sharptooth made his way over, sniffing their scent; underwater sniffers worked just as well as land sniffers could. When he was finished sniffing, he now knew what kind of food he was going to eat.

These were five young ones, faintly lit by glowing water stars: a brown-and-tan longneck, an orange threehorn, a little light green swimmer, a little brown flyer with a wing ripped off, and a green spiketail. It appeared that they had died not long ago, swimming until they gave up from exhaustion, and their bodies were starting to grow more pale in death. How these young dinosaurs ended up in the middle of the Big Water, he didn't know...nor did he care. This was a once in a full Night Circle opportunity for him.

With a growl, the swimming sharptooth swam over and opened his jaws to accept this meal. A fully belly was a happy belly, after all.

The End

Yep. That was a pretty depressing ending (as much as I could make it anyway). I'm not much of a "downer ending" kind of guy, but I hope I did my best with this. A big thanks goes to OwlsCan'tRead and Keijo6 for inspiration to make this story, and I'd like to suggest giving their stories a read as well.

By the way, here are two shout-outs to this story. The first is the end of the film The Plague Dogs (adapted from a book by the late Richard Adams, author of Watership Down), where Rowf and Snitter think they see an island and keep swimming in the sea until they most likely drown (in the book, they got adopted instead); heck, the title of the story is a reference to a song on the movie called "Time and Tide". The second is to the Walking With Dinosaurs TV series, with the swimming sharptooth being the Liopleurodon from said series, due to its massive size and long age.

See ya next time.