Chapter 2
Can't Take 'No' for an Answer
Day 12
Night
Littlefoot made his way across a meadow, allowing himself a moment to marvel at the stars peppering the black blanket of firmament. How he wished to go up there, Beyond the Mysterious Beyond, never imagining that the Beyond was coming, and once it came he would give a leg and a tail if it meant placating fate. The longneck's thoughts returned to Earth as a firefly landed on his nose, causing him to go cross-eyed as he admired its radiance. How in the world did it light up like that? Even Mr. Thicknose had never satisfied his curiosity. Apparently deciding that he had been sufficiently dazzled, the firefly took off, joining a host of others that spangled the meadow. He chuckled. Who said all the stars were in the sky? There were plenty of mysteries to be found even in The Great Valley. Still, if only ...
The young longneck's attention was drawn to paws pattering through the grass. Actually, it was more of a 'stomp' than a 'patter'. He didn't even have to look before identifying the stomper.
"Oh, hey Cera," Littlefoot greeted. "I hope you're not still mad about Doc."
"Me?" she chirped with unusual amicability. "No, not at all. I mean, we're friends, aren't we? Friends forgive each other. Friends make each other happy. Friends don't keep good stuff from other friends just 'cause they're stingy flat heads."
Littlefoot sighed before giving a gentle argument. "Look, Cera, Doc's made up his mind. If we're friends, then you'll find a way to be okay with that."
"Ooor ... you can teach me what Doc teaches you," Cera suggested in a chipper manner.
Littlefoot drew back. "Cera-"
"Come on!" she insisted. "You need a partner!"
"A ... partner?" asked Littlefoot.
"I mean, look at Doc," Cera argued. "You think he'd have that scar down his face if there were someone to watch his back?"
Littlefoot opened his mouth to respond.
"Someone besides Dara," Cera added.
The longneck closed his mouth.
"Now, here's the other option," she continued: "You ignore me; I follow you to all your training sessions, hoping to learn a thing or two; Doc gets mad; after a week, he decides you're not worth the trouble; he stops teaching you and then we're both unhappy. Is that what you want, Littlefoot? For us both to be unhappy?"
She ended her ultimatum with a great, big smile of gratingly insincere sweetness.
Littlefoot narrowed his eyes at her before turning and leaving. "Good. Night. Cera."
"So, I'll see you after tomorrow's lesson with Doc, am I right?" she called after him. "Wanna make sure the training's fresh in your memory!"
Littlefoot gave a long, exasperated groan. "Sure, fine, whatever!"
"That better not be sarcasm!" she warned, projecting her voice to reach him as he grew farther.
"When have you ever known me to be sarcastic?" Littlefoot projected back, perhaps a tad too loudly.
That concluded their conversation, and soon Littlefoot had disappeared into the forest.
Cera smiled to herself, quite pleased with her negotiation skills. However, Littlefoot's grumpiness somewhat bothered her. It was uncharacteristic, but understandable considering the way she pushed him. She decided to make it a point to be on her best behaviour when he passed on Doc's training. Maybe she would try to show a little more consideration for his thoughts and ... ugh ... feelings.
"And here 'Ol Bump Head said I wouldn't relate to him," Cera said to herself in self-righteous smug.
Day 25
"Hey! Not so hard, Cera!" Littlefoot warned, diving clear of the threehorn's charge.
So much for 'best behaviour'.
She skidded to a stop, snorting as she readied another attack. "Didn't Doc teach you to 'stone bathe'?"
"'Rock bathing' takes a long time to show results!" Littlefoot argued. "Besides, you break rocks on a regular basis!"
Cera raised her chin in pride. "Be that as it may, we're not gonna learn anything hitting like a pair of hatchlings."
"Doc says you have to learn the technique before going all-out," Littlefoot countered. "Even so, you don't 'go all out' on your friend!"
Cera huffed. "Says the longneck. We threehorns have our own way of doing things."
"If you don't wanna learn how to do it right, suit yourself. Go the wrong way."
Cera perked up upon recognising that last statement. "Ohh, I get it! You're afraid I'll hurt you after our big fight on our way to The Great Valley!"
Littlefoot stiffened slightly before glaring at her. That thought hadn't crossed his mind, but the memory was enough to make him switch mindsets. This wasn't a friendly tussle anymore. Not quite a fight either, but he wanted to teach her a lesson. If he knew Cera, and he did, she was the prehistoric equivalent of a one-trick pony. She charged, she headbutted, and did little more. He could see her in his mind's eye: her stride, her turn rate, her final head jerk, her slightly sluggish response time when it came to moving targets. His thoughts dilated as he focused. The imaginary Cera slowed in his head. He saw her every footstep and how easy it was to interrupt her mid-gallop. How easy it was to bypass her reflexes with the unexpected.
He gave a mild gasp. So, this was Advanced Imagination, First Thought. Wobbly, unrefined, like a hatchling taking its initial steps, but after a couple dozen sessions of practice, it was a start. He doubted he could get so far with Second Thought, or even wrap his mind around much more than Cera. Luckily, she wasn't a particularly complicated opponent.
"I'm not afraid of you," Littlefoot declared. "Never was."
She snorted. "Then prove it."
Littlefoot wordlessly accepted her challenge, lowering himself in a battle stance.
Cera grinned: finally, some real action!
She charged. He responded in kind. What? Was he gonna ram her with that flat skull of his? What a joke! To think she believed that Littlefoot of all dinosaurs had a shot at outfighting her. Maybe threehorns were just better warriors than longnecks, full stop. Maybe there was nothing useful he could teach her! Even so, this would be fu-
...
Literally 2 Seconds Later ...
...
Cera found herself lying on her back, blinking at the blue sky. It all happened so fast, yet she wasn't quite sure what 'it all' entailed. Her mind took a moment to piece together what led her to that position ... before rejecting it in the mental equivalent of throwing up.
Littlefoot broke the blue backdrop as he stood over her, smirking.
She frowned. "You're lucky I tripped on a tree foot!"
He made a show of looking around for a root. "Tree foot? Let's see ... Ah! There it is! The closest foot: about twenty steps away!"
"Yeah? Well ... well a rock then!" she argued.
He simply continued to stare at her. His smug little face was really getting on her nerves.
"Oh, come on!" Cera blurted as she rolled onto her feet. "You expect me to believe you baited me with a false charge, then dodged at the very last heartbeat, bumped me with your hip and swept your tail under my feet at the same time?"
"Uhhh ... yep," Littlefoot answered simply.
"There is no way you're that smart or coordinated!" Cera shot back.
"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that," Littlefoot stated, before something caught his attention and he silently stared at the ground.
Cera followed his gaze. "It's called grass, Littlefoot. We're supposed to walk on it, or eat it ... but it's not going anywhere, so you can keep staring if you want."
"Don't you feel that?" asked the longneck.
Cera paused. "A tiny earthshake, maybe?"
"You know how adults in a herd can keep track of each other by feeling their footsteps?" Littlefoot asked. "Some longnecks take that a step farther. It's called 'Earth Whispering'. They use it to send messages through the ground by stomping. Doc's been teaching me what the different stomp patterns mean. Gotta go, bye!"
He turned tail and dashed away.
"Hey!" protested Cera, running after him. "We're not done here!"
"Doc's telling me I'm supposed to meet him in a quarter nap!" answered the longneck.
"As if! You've already had your training for the day! You're just making excuses! Get back here!"
After sprinting for a minute or so, Cera was forced to a panting stop. Littlefoot kept going with no indication that he planned on resting soon. This was unacceptable! 25 days training and already his stamina made her feel like an old thicknose! No. This had to stop.
...
Fifteen minutes later ...
...
"If you can figure out how to win without fighting, it's best you go for it," Doc stated.
He waited for Littlefoot to ask 'how', but the youngster was uncannily lethargic.
"Pardon me?" asked Littlefoot. "Oh, how do I do that? I could try talking to them."
The Lone Dinosaur sighed. "I strongly suggest you don't. You can scare off half the sharpteeth you meet with this."
Doc raised his tail and cracked it like a whip, splitting the air with a thunderclap that made the Earth shudder. He had Littlefoot's full attention now. The youngster had heard him snap his tail before, but not like this. Littlefoot could still feel the shock wave in his bones!
"We can't roar like sharpteeth, but we can make thunder with our tails," Doc went on. "A longneck's power can be judged by his thunder. If your thunder's strong, a sharptooth might think twice about fighting you. Weak thunder will encourage them to attack. You're too young to make thunder, but if you practice now it'll make a big difference. It travels far, so be careful about it. Can you guess why?"
The young longneck thought for a moment. "Because ... all the sharpteeth near enough to hear it will know you're there. They'll also know you're a strong fighter, so they might come in numbers to overpower you."
Doc couldn't help the proud grin that parted his lips. "Exactly."
The kid smiled, pleased with his deduction. He was attentive, but the exhaustion was still in his eyes.
"Littlefoot, you look drained," Doc noted.
"Yeah," admitted Littlefoot. "I ran some of the way."
Doc shook his head. "Not 'tired', 'drained'. You've been drained for the past week or so."
Uh oh.
"Well, my friends and I have been playing pretty hard," Littlefoot explained, telling himself that 'training' and 'playing' were practically the same thing.
Doc lowered his head closer to Littlefoot, studying his scales. "And those bruises: 'playing', huh?"
"Uhh ..."
Doc's eyes flicked to something behind Littlefoot, drawing from years of experience spotting sharpteeth among the greenery. "Come out, Cera."
Littlefoot spun around. 'Cera?' Where?
After a few seconds, the unseen threehorn answered: "Why? It's a free valley. I kind of like it in here."
"It looks like green food, but you're hiding under an itchy bush," Doc stated. "Then again, you've probably figured that out by now."
A few moments passed as Cera stubbornly refused to leave the bush. Then she burst from the green and rolled across the floor with much angry screaming in an effort to quell the itching.
Littlefoot's reaction was quick. "Uh, over there! There's a water hole! It'll help stop the itching!"
Cera made a beeline for the water hole, managing a "Like, duh!" in spite of her panic. The threehorn plunged beneath the surface and Littlefoot dashed to the edge, followed by a somewhat less concerned Doc.
"She's been under for a little while," Littlefoot noted. "Is she okay?"
Doc stared at the water for a moment. "No. She's drownin'."
He quickly dipped his tail in, drawing out a sputtering Cera who seemed to cough out more water than air. Once he'd set her down, Littlefoot raised his tail to thump her back and help remove liquid from her lungs. He stopped himself upon realising how much she would hate that. The longneck looked away, knowing that staring would only compound her humiliation. Doc gave her no such grace, watching the threehorn with unamused nonchalance.
After coughing out her lungs and then some, Cera breathlessly whirled to face Doc. "What are YOU staring at?"
He only blinked, refusing to give her the dignity of an answer.
"Fine! Whatever!" she snapped.
Cera turned to light into Littlefoot, only to realise that he wasn't staring. The threehorn calmed down somewhat. Seriously? Had she been in his place, she might have outright laughed! What was wrong with him? Cera's mental tirade came to an abrupt stop when she took a good look at her reasoning. Nothing was 'wrong' with him. They were friends, and he was attempting to preserve dignity.
Cera's expression softened. In her moment of sobriety, she flinched upon noticing the bruises she'd inflicted during their 'training'.
"Hey, you okay?" asked Cera.
Littlefoot traced her gaze to his bruises and gave a small smile. "Mm hm. It only hurts when I breathe."
Cera rolled her eyes. "Again with the sarcasm. That is sarcasm, right?"
"You got me," Littlefoot admitted.
"So are you okay or not?" asked a mildly impatient Cera.
"It's not so bad. You can break rocks, but Littlefoot's a different story."
Cera almost gave a good-natured laugh. "Oh, so you think that you can talk about yourself like that just because you may be the next Lone ... Dinosaur ..."
The threehorn trailed off as she noticed Doc studying their interaction in deep thought.
"Okay. Let's begin," he instructed.
"I'm not going anywhere," Cera declared.
Doc nodded. "I know. So, let's see what Littlefoot taught you."
Littlefoot gave Cera a self-conscious glance. She was strangely stoic, but he caught a slight, high-pitched noise escaping her nose. It took him a second to realise that she was repressing an excited squeal.
"How did you know?" asked Littlefoot.
"The scuff marks on her scales," Doc replied. "She's been rock bathing wrong. Too aggressively. Let's hope this doesn't come back to bite us later."
"Hey! 'This' is standing right here!" Cera protested.
Much to their surprise, Doc allowed himself a chuckle.
BONUS STORY: While Littlefoot and friends learn to battle sharpteeth, some dinosaurs are born to fight, but what happens when you don't know how to stop? What do you do when the world beats you down and you're ANGRY? How many times do you have to forgive? What happens when no one deserves a hero, and you don't know how to stop your inner monster? They hurt you. You hurt them back. You realise it feels good. Then you ask yourself: DO you want to stop the monster? Dagara's Hidden Valley saga continues in 'Because You're a Sharpneck - War Before Time'.
Thanks for reading! If you're silently enjoying this story, I'm pleased to know it! ... Or imagine it. Of course, I'd love to hear your thoughts, so feel free to review!
As you've seen, within this story's continuity, dinosaurs measure time with 'heartbeats' (the equivalent of seconds) and 'naps' (about an hour). Yes, it's uncannily akin to human time measurement, but there's a reason for that ;). In my head canon, Adults such as Mr. Thicknose teach the children to measure 'heartbeats' and 'naps' with surprising accuracy, although their measurements are never quite perfect. The position of the Sun helps them gauge naps. Curiously, 'seconds', 'minutes' and some other familiar time quantities are still a part of their vocabulary, though they usually use them in a very loose sense. For example: "I'll be there in a minute" means "I'll be there in a while". The cause for that will be explained later. Though they prefer their own analog system for more precise measurements, heartbeats and naps can be used loosely as well, but I'm rambling so I'll shut up now :).
Next, Doc's training is great for strength, speed and reflexes, regardless of species, but there's one problem: it was especially designed for longnecks. Despite her best efforts, Cera can't help but fall behind Littlefoot. In a valley full of peaceful leafeaters, there's no one else to teach her the art of threehorn combat ... or is there? Find out in 'Cera's Teacher'.