Chapter 3

Cera's Teacher

Day 55

Evening

Mr. Thicknose raised his head from a pond to see Cera storming towards it.

"Good evening, Cera," he smiled.

She seemed completely oblivious of his presence as she grumbled to herself. "Stupid longneck training, stupidly made to work best for longnecks 'cause it's stupid!"

Cera dunked her beak beneath the surface, drinking with a vengeance. Mr. Thicknose raised an eyebrow. That was the first time he'd seen a dinosaur chew water. Having satisfied her thirst, she tore her face from the pond. Mr. Thicknose closed his eyes as she gave the water a good stomp, inadvertently sending a big splash into his face. She marched away from the waterside, vigourously unleashing her horn thrusts on thin air.

Mr. Thicknose turned to see what she doing. "Practicing with your horns, I see?"

Cera paused, eyeing the old dinosaur as if noticing him for the first time. Then she rolled her eyes.

"If you can 'see' it, then why are you asking?" Cera sassed.

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that," the elder remarked.

That familiar statement gave Cera pause. It seemed everything she said fell under the 'better ignored' category.

"So who, or what, is your imaginary victim?"

"Littlefoot," she grunted.

Mr. Thicknose froze. "I was under the impression that you two had a, uh ... relatively healthy friendship."

"Well ... yeah," Cera agreed, catching herself. "We do, but Doc's teaching us how to fight but I can't keep up 'cause he's teaching like a longneck, and I'm not a longneck! Their tails are different and they don't have horns, which means I gotta work extra hard to get nowhere! I'm the 'tough girl', but every time we spar Littlefoot gets the better of me!" She sighed away some of the tension as she glared at the ground. "It's not like I wanna crush him or anything. It's just no fun when I don't even have a chance."

"Hm," grunted the thicknose. "I knew you two were up to something. Fascinating. Perhaps I can be of assistance."

Cera looked him up and down. "How are you gonna make me anything remotely closer to a better fighter? No offence, but you're basically a threehorn minus the 'three horns', the attitude and, well, pretty much everything that makes a threehorn worth being anything."

Apparently putting 'no offence' in front of her statement didn't guarantee a lack of offence, seeing as Mr. Thicknose was giving her the same stare Doc and half the grownups did on a regular basis. Her frequent mental retort of 'What do they know?' was starting to evolve into 'Maybe they're onto something'.

Cera kicked a pebble, kicking herself on the inside. "Forget I said that."

He seemed genuinely surprised. "Is that an apology?"

Did she have to spell it out for him? Cera groaned, wrestling her pride.

"Yeah, I guess so."

Mr. Thicknose smiled. "It would seem someone's growing up! How about a little background before we begin?"

Cera withheld an impatient sigh. He was doing that thing grownups did when they asked a question after making up their minds to go ahead regardless of the answer. This had better not be long or/and boring. Ohh, who was she kidding?

"When I was little, a group of threehorn far walkers passed through the valley," Mr. Thicknose explained. "They bore the markings of warriors who had barely scraped through a recent battle. Those wounds ... I'd never seen anything like it: not from sharpteeth, or leafeaters."

Cera's interest was piqued. This actually sounded interesting! Well, there was a first time for everything.

"Did they ever say who they were fighting?" she asked.

He shook his head. "Regrettably, I was too shy to ask. However, shyness wasn't enough to keep me from watching them. Their fighting style was incredible! It was more than just running head first into opponents. They could swing their horns like a fast biter's claws, parrying blows, splitting boulders. I didn't know a threehorn could move the way they did! On evenings, I would watch their shadows as they practiced, and try to make my shadow do the same things to be sure I was getting it right. Of course, it wasn't much use to me. I'm not a threehorn, but I could imagine. In time their wounds healed. They marched out to face the unknown and never returned."

"Well? What're we waiting for?" Cera blurted, nearly breaking her 'tough girl' M.O. in her excitement.

The thicknose chuckled. "Come with me."

Cera eagerly trotted up to him as he took a few steps that ended with them standing over the pond.

"That was the shortest 'come with me' I've had in my life," Cera commented.

Again, Mr. Thicknose chuckled like a kid pulling a B grade prank. "Pardon my sense of humour."

Cera couldn't stop the 'What sense of humour?' from popping into her head, but at least she kept her mouth closed.

"Okay, so we're staring at our reflections in the water," Cera stated. "Am I missing something?"

Mr. Thicknose swung his head to the side as if wielding horns. "Try to mimic my reflection."

Cera mouthed an 'ohh' of realisation before attempting to copy him.

"Keep your horns perpendicular to the imaginary target, like so," Mr. Thicknose instructed.

She gave it another go.

He smiled. "Better."

Mr. Thicknose proceeded to carry her through a few more basic swings, jabs and parries until the departing sunlight brought the session to a close.

Day 81

Ruby shifted her weight between her two feet in a fidgety little dance. She was quite possibly the most patient member of the gang. She was also a 'fast runner', which meant given the opportunity to flex her swiftness, then denied that opportunity, was a recipe for restlessness. It wasn't as if they'd stopped playing altogether. She knew Littlefoot's conversations with Chomper were important, but when they put her fun on hold? It surprised her to think how antsy that left her, so she tried to think of something else in the meantime. Exercising the restraint not to speed blitz her friends was enough of a challenge in every game.

"How do you say 'let's be friends' in sharptooth?" asked Littlefoot.

Chomper's answer came in friendly croon.

Littlefoot blinked. "That's it?"

The young sharptooth thought for a moment, trying to find the best way to explain. "You know how 'huh?' means 'what?' in leafeater, or how 'mm hm' means 'yes'? The sharptooth language has lots of little sounds that aren't actual words, but they mean stuff. For example, if you want someone to know you don't like something, you can just growl. It sometimes helps if you point or at least look at the thing to make it clear what you don't like."

"Interesting ..." Littlefoot commented. "So, how do you say 'we don't have to fight'?"

"That's easy!" Chomper replied, before crooning again. "The same sound would work. It's a friendly noise, but if you want a sharptooth to take you even more seriously, you can show them how much you know your stuff." He released a combination of croons, purrs and soft growls that sounded anything but 'easy'. "You can say anything with a growl, a whine or any other noise, as long as you have the pattern right. However, the sound you use lets other sharpteeth know if you're friendly, unfriendly or something else. Using certain sounds for certain parts of what you say adds more emotional meaning and, um ... texture. That's the best way I can put it."

Littlefoot nodded. "Okay, here it goes." He attempted to repeat the complex sound.

Chomper gave him a blank stare before fiddling with his tiny claws. "Um ... you see ... if you say that to any sharptooth of any kind or age, girl or boy, so long as they can speak they will tell their friends, family and acquaintances, who will also tell their friends, family and acquaintances. Then they will all form a pack and hunt you down along with anyone they think is your friend ... or family ... or acquaintance. You can go into hiding, but they'll keep hunting you 'till the day they die."

The longneck's jaw dropped. "Chomper, what did I say?"

The small sharptooth shook his head with eyes squeezed shut. "Probably best you don't know, but I'm gonna have a hard time un-hearing it."

"Sorry," Littlefoot apologised. "You know what? I'm still gonna ask you to teach me everything you can, but maybe we should work together when we're dealing with bad sharpteeth. You can do most of the talking. I prefer not to fight, but chances are we'll have to. You might wanna think about training with Cera and me."

Chomper's face lit up. "You really think Doc'll let me? Aw, that'd be awesome! I really wanna, except Doc gave me nightmares so I'll need a few days to work up the courage."

"That's great. Hold on ... Doc gave you what?"

Littlefoot caught a flash of motion by the side of his eye.

In a blink, his tail had swatted an incoming coniferous seed out of the air. Chomper's eyes went wide at his razor sharp reflexes.

"For a second there I thought you forgot we were playing 'Stop the Seed'," Cera commented with a smile. "Ruby was starting to do her 'I Wanna Play So Bad but I'll Hold it in and Try to Stay Mature on the Outside' dance."

Ruby's eyes widened as her fidgeting ceased. She chuckled sheepishly. "Obviously it was more obvious than I thought."

These days, not even Cera batted an eye at Ruby's redundant speech pattern.

Littlefoot snatched up the seed with his tail, tossing it into the air before casually catching it in his mouth. With the exception of Cera, the others exchanged glances. For a four-legged dinosaur, such dexterity was no small feat.

"Sorry, guys," Littlefoot apologised, pitching the seed between the two teams. "Got a little distracted."

"Don't worry about it," Cera shrugged.

Chomper and Ruby looked at each other. They expected a sardonic remark. At least a 'hmph!' or an eye-roll. A 'don't worry about it' without a hint of annoyance wasn't part of Cera's repertoire of responses. It would have been less conspicuous if it hadn't been a growing trend lately.

"Are you feeling okay?" asked Ruby, stepping up to Cera and reaching out to test her temperature. "'Cause when you feel okay you're a bit ... different from this."

"I'm fine!" Cera snapped, wincing before tempering her voice. "I, um ..." she seemed to squeeze the next word through her teeth, "appreciate your concern, but I'm okay."

"You haven't been coming to training," Littlefoot added. "That's not like you."

"Who says I haven't been coming to training?" countered the threehorn, raising her head in cryptic pride. "I remember everything Doc taught me about skin, bone and muscle strengthening. I just wanted to get a little space so I could sort something out."

Littlefoot slowly nodded as he examined her. Based on the mild bruises and developing muscles, he already knew that she was still training, but he seldom caught her doing it. Why the secrecy?

"Oh, and Ruby? Do me a favour and stop holding back," Cera requested.

The pink fast runner knit her brow in question.

Cera finally gave that eye-roll. "You're a fast runner, Ruby. It's, uh ... nice, I guess, that you slow down so the other team can keep up, but I want to show you guys a little something, so I expect you to try your best."

"If that's okay with you, it's okay with me," Ruby agreed, looking past Cera. "But ..."

The threehorn followed Ruby's gaze to see Ducky and Spike guarding their team's goal, marked by two rocks on either side. Ducky perked up, noticing the two staring at her brother and her.

She patted the spiketail on whom she sat. "Spike, I think it is time to play!"

His only response was a loud snore. He had slipped into a nap a few minutes prior, and it didn't look like that was going to change anytime soon.

"Spike!" Ducky whined. "We need to guard the goal, we do, we do!"

Cera smiled up at Ruby. "You won't say it, so I will. You have us outnumbered, and my team is at a slight disadvantage."

Ducky might have been mildly disheartened if she could hear Cera over Spike's snoring.

"Like I said, I've got few things to show you, so bring it," Cera coaxed.

"If you say so," Littlefoot conceded. "You ready, team?"

Chomper, Ruby and Petrie voiced their agreement.

"Okay, then," Littlefoot nodded. "Splash!"

"Wait ... wha?" asked Cera.

Team Littlefoot split up while the longneck alone charged for the seed.

"Remember when I suggested we plan our movements as a team?" asked Littlefoot.

Cera exploded towards the seed. "Remember how I ignored you?"

Ever since his training yielded notable results, Littlefoot had grown accustomed to outrunning Cera. This time, she shattered his expectations. She was fast. Strangely enough, she was quicker than he was, but there was one player who was faster.

The longneck lowered his head and Ruby sprang over him, just as they practiced.

The fast runner quickly kicked the seed past Cera and proceeded to leap over the threehorn. "Be careful what you wish fo- W-whAAAah! Oof!"

Cera had reared as high as her legs would carry her, bumping Ruby's foot with her head and sabotaging the fast runner's jump. Brutish? Yes, but over time, Stop the Seed had more or less evolved into American football ... if not slightly rowdier.

The runner landed on her belly, but the seed was already hurtling towards the goal.

"Ducky, Spike! Look alive!" Cera commanded.

Ducky yelped and abandoned ship as Spike jumped awake with a grunt, looking to and fro before the seed landed in his mouth.

"Nice save! ... I think," Cera commended. "Now pass it over!"

Spike blinked down at the seed in his mouth.

"Oh boy," Cera huffed in annoyance.

If anyone knew anything about Spike, it was that when something even remotely edible landed in his mouth, chances were no one was getting it back. This particular seed species qualified.

Ducky pried the seed from her brother's jaws before kicking it towards Cera with all her might. Of course, being mere several inches tall, 'all her might' didn't take it very far, but Cera darted in, bouncing the seed on her nose once and headbuting it under the legs of an incoming Ruby. Startled by the speed of the seed, the fast runner stumbled and ultimately tumbled to the ground once more.

Petrie swooped and blocked the seed with his body, even if it knocked the wind out of him.

Forgetting his place as goalkeeper, eager Chomper rushed to kick it. "I got it! I got it!"

He caught sight of Cera rampaging his way.

"AAAUGH! NEVERMIND! I don't got it! I NEVER got it! I WASN'T EVEN THINKING OF GOTTING IT!"

In spite of his claim, Chomper kicked the seed away more out of self-defense than anything else.

The threehorn headbutted it back, only for Littlefoot to send it hurtling forward with his tail. They bolted for it before it even came to rest. Cera flashed a grin, making as if to dart left. He moved to block her. He was expecting a more direct approach. Ah, there it was. When they reached the seed at the same instant, Cera leaned over it in a headbutt intended to shove Littlefoot out of the way. What Littlefoot did surprised even him as he found his forehead colliding with hers on instinct.

Cera only laughed as she pressed into his throbbing skull. "Still pretending to be a threehorn, huh?"

She jerked her head upwards, tipping Littlefoot's front end into the air. Thinking quickly, he braced his fore paws on her crest, attempting to keep her at bay.

Cera blinked before shoving harder, past the seed. The longneck's feet skinned grass from soil as he was forced backwards. Then he stopped, paws firmly rooted.

"So ... that's your surprise?" grunted the longneck. "You've been training in secret so I wouldn't realise how good you got until you were better than me?"

"Yup," Cera confirmed, before giving a sharp shove to no avail.

"So, who's been training you?" asked Littlefoot.

Cera snorted. "What makes you think I didn't train myself?"

"You were having a hard time adjusting to longneck routines." He stopped to think. "Soo ... did Mr. Thicknose teach you to watch your back?"

She hiccupped. "How did-? Watch my-? NO!"

Glancing back, Cera saw Ruby kicking the seed into her goal, right past Spike who'd made an admirable attempt to dive for it.

Cera's muscles seemed to deflate as she allowed Littlefoot to bring his fore paws to the ground.

"Con-" she choked. "Cong ... grrrr ... gratulations, guys. You weren't supposed to win this one, but you surprised me, especially Petrie."

The flyer blinked in confusion. "M ... me? What me do?"

Cera squinted at him as though it were painfully obvious. "You stopped the seed. In the air. With your body. It was moving really fast and you knew it wouldn't be pretty, but you did it anyway."

The flyer stared at her. Everyone did, besides a smirking Littlefoot who merely sat back and savoured the unfolding scene.

Cera's gaze flit across their faces with an upraised eyebrow. "What?"

"Me not remember last time you complemented me," the flyer stated.

"Maybe you don't remember it because there was no 'it' to remember," Ruby suggested.

Cera huffed. "Of course I have! Just not recently, or enough, but that's about to change so ..." She mumbled the last part. "I guess you'll have to get used to it ..."

Heartening as the moment was, the unsettling sense of being watched had quietly gnawed the edge of Littlefoot's instincts until his conscious mind could ignore it no longer. He spotted a small flyer in the trees. Once Littlefoot stared back, it diverted its bulging, black eyes elsewhere. Shy but inquisitive creatures, he would feel their eyes glue to the back of his head once he looked away again.

Petrie traced Littlefoot's gaze and shuddered. "Flying nibblers: they give me creeps."

"But they're flyers, just like you," Chomper reasoned.

Petrie shook his head vigourously. "Not like me. They got sharp teeth. Tiny sharp teeth, but they little bigger than me, so me have reason to be scared."

"But they only eat creepy crawlers," argued Chomper. "You're not scared of me, are you?"

"You friend," Petrie countered. "Me can't make friends with nibblers."

"Perhaps if you talk to them, they'll talk back and turn out pretty friendly," Ruby suggested.

Petrie shook his head once more. "They no talk. They only stare. Me no think they can talk. Uncle Pterano say they eat dead things in Mysterious Beyond. Not here though, for some reason."

"Uncle Pterano said a lot of things," Cera reminded. "... Although, Mr. Thicknose told me the same thing, and he's pretty reliable these days."

"I think they're cute," Ruby stated. "Besides, if they weren't around to deal with pesky creepy crawlers, we'd have to deal with more pesky creepy crawlers instead."

"But they so many!" blurted a flustered Petrie. "There never be so many nibblers little while ago! Why more coming here? And creepy crawlers still bite us! Nibblers should do better job!"

As if to prove the point, Littlefoot felt the tiny tickle of a creepy crawler climbing up his leg. He looked to find nothing more than a beetle, and not the biting kind. True to Petrie's complaint, the nibbler ignored it. However, he couldn't blame the creature. It was unable to see the bug at that angle. Littlefoot decided to leave the crawler be as it settled on his side. It wasn't bothering him much, anyway.

Petrie painted a scenario. "What if me bump into one while flying some day, it get angry and bite me? Me not like them!"

Cera shook her head with a sigh. Perhaps this was some kind of flyer-on-flyer prejudice.

"It's not like we can just chase them all out of here," Cera argued.

"Me no care! Me only feel safe when they GONE!" exploded Petrie.

"That's not what the valley is about," Littlefoot reminded. "Unless they cause trouble, they're welcome to stay."

A mild look of betrayal touched Petrie's frustrated face. "You too, Littlefoot? You no think they too creepy?"

Littlefoot hesitated. "Wellll ... okay, I gotta admit they're a little creepy, but it's not like we should judge them for it ... I think ..."

The beetle briefly fluttered, creating the slightest of sounds.

The nibbler snapped to attention. Like a shot, it swooped in.

"LOOK OUT!" Petrie screamed.

Littlefoot ducked. As he did so, the nibbler made a tight loop around his body, diving down his side, zipping under his belly before he finished his crouch and flitting back into the tree. He felt the rush of wind, but it never touched him, not even a tap. However, there was one thing it apparently touched that he had failed to notice.

"Huh ... where'd it get that scrumptious nugget?" asked Chomper.

Littlefoot looked to see the creature nibbling on a beetle identical to the one on his side. When he spun to examine his flank, his jaw dropped.

"No. Way," Littlefoot gaped.

"What?" asked Cera.

"That nibbler snatched the creepy crawler off my side, yet it couldn't even see it!" Littlefoot gushed. "It musta heard the crawler when it flapped its wings, but that thing barely even made a sound!"

"Maybe they have really good hearing," Chomper theorised.

"You SEE? You SEE?" Petrie ranted. "That SCARIEST thing me ever see! NOTHING fly like that, except in terrifying SLEEP STORY!"

The nibbler twittered as it seemed to glance in their direction, at least from Petrie's perspective.

He pointed a claw quivering in outrage at the nibbler. "It LAUGHING at us TOO!"

The others decided to give their winged friend a moment as his little lungs hyperventilated away the agitation. After about half a minute, he calmed down enough to give the nibbler a jealous glower.

"... But me have to admit, me impressed," he stated. "You think Petrie could fly like that?"

"Maybe with training," Cera shrugged, perking up at a thought. "Y'know, it'd be really awesome if we all trained together! Would come in handy if we run into some big, ugly sharptooth ... which we always do."

Chomper gave her a glare and folded his small arms.

"Uh ... no offence?" Cera offered.

"Y'know, just 'cause you say 'no offence' doesn't make what you say any less offensive," Chomper argued.

Cera rolled her eyes upon hearing that past thought put into words. "In that case, I'm sorry. Sharpteeth aren't actually ugly. It was just an insult to the unfriendly ones, so take it or leave it."

Chomper narrowed his eyes at her before shrugging. He supposed a somewhat curt 'I'm sorry' was better than nothing at all.

"But we are not big enough to fight sharpteeth," Ducky countered.

"Unless you plan on staying a kid the rest of your life, we will be," Cera easily parried.

They fell into a brief, thoughtful silence. There was no denying that she had a point, but some of them still had their misgivings.

"Training look hard and painful. Opposite of fun, really," Petrie commented.

"I see where you're coming from, but you know what's really fun?" asked Cera. "Being able to run longer and faster than you ever thought you could! Hitting hard enough to make a stupi- uh, a bad sharptooth think twice about eating leafeater again! Having scales so thick that you can't even feel their teeth! Chomper! Chomp me!"

He hesitated. "Uhh ..."

"Go ahead. I've got stone scales, I can take it!" she insisted.

The sharptooth paused before gingerly nipping her ankle.

"Harder!" Cera commanded.

Startled, Chomper latched his jaws around her leg.

Cera smiled proudly. "See? I can't feel a thi- Okay, that actually hurts. Lemme go. Lemme go!"

He released her, guiltily fiddling with his claws. "Sorry."

"Eh, it's my fault, I guess," Cera admitted. "So maybe my stone scales still have a way to go, but actually this proves my point! What if we needed to survive a bite from an unfriendly sharptooth?"

Petrie shook his head before examining the fragile skin of his wings. "Make no difference for me. Flyers not too tough. Me no think stone scales help us much."

Cera snorted in annoyance as she ran over to Spike, who was on the verge of eating the seed. Hesitation aside, no one could deny that training made her faster than ever. Just before the spiketail could snap up the seed, he found his snack snatched from under his nose as Cera scooped it with her horn. His face fell in disappointment.

The threehorn made her closing statement. "As much as I'd love for you guys to just say 'yes', I won't push you. Just think about it, okay?"

Ruby tapped a claw to her chin. "Hm ... I'll see what I can learn from Doc and Mr. Thicknose, but there's only so much a fast runner can learn from leafeaters who aren't fast runners. My parents are good at this kind of thing, so my best chance at getting good would be learning more of this kind of thing from my parents. I'll have to visit them more often."

Cera smiled. "There we go!"

Littlefoot glanced at the flying nibbler. Once again, it looked away. He hated how they did that. As much as he'd defended their neutrality, their behaviour niggled at his instincts.

"Heads up, Littlefoot!"

The Longneck turned to her. "Huh? YIKES!"

He barely managed to duck in time after she'd headbutted the seed at him with alarming speed. In retrospect, he realised that, having won, his team was supposed to serve the seed first. She was merely being so 'polite' as to give it to him. Nonetheless, he had to ask.

"Cera! WHY?!"

"I thought your reflexes were supposed to be faster than that!" she argued.

"They are! I was distracted!"

"How is that my fault?" the threehorn shrugged.

Littlefoot wanted to yell at her a little more. Instead, he decided to laugh it off. She was coming along, but she was still Cera. He couldn't expect her to mellow overnight. Even so, he had a feeling she'd always be a bit of a fireball.

Cera raised an eyebrow at his laughter. "Are you okay?"

He nodded.

She nodded back with a somewhat impatient smile. "Good. So what are you waiting for? Get the seed! I wanna play!"

Thanks for reading! Review and let me know that you think.

If you wanna know what the 'flying nibblers' are, just google 'anurognathus'. They will melt your heart, chill your spine or both. They may not be around anymore, but you can find a reasonable modern day substitute by googling the 'great potoo'. A look at those birds will probably have the same effect.

Next: The Great Valley is a place of comfort and familiarity ... until Littlefoot discovers a mystery that makes him question the nature of his home. What will he discover? Find out in 'The Cornerstone'.