Disclaimer: I do not own The Land Before Time or any of its characters.
Chapter Three: The Wastelands
Weeks pass by as the situation becomes more dire. Without enough food to sustain the large dinosaurs in the herds, many portions start to slow down and die off from starvation. Some desperately dig into the dry ground for water. Bron is still searching for the longneck herd. He lost the trail from the crisscrossing traffic of the other herds scrambling around. While searching, Bron becomes a witness to the dead and dying. Some actively preyed on by smaller versions of the large sharptooth that's been terrorizing everyone since the night of the big flash. These areas are appropriately named The Wastelands. Other scavengers who survived the impact event picked the decaying bodies clean to the bone. Even a few desperate flyers get in on the rotting feast. They're often chased off or preyed upon by their larger flying cousins. They possess large beaks capable of skewering smaller flyers without effort. One in particular stands out as she is the largest of them all. She's been nicknamed The Giant Flyer among the surviving flyers.
Bron keeps a lot of distance between himself and the recently deceased. Not only to escape the predators, but to also escape the rotting scent filling the air. He hopes none of the bodies are of his family as he tries to rediscover the trail. All of the footprints from the different herds are still overlapping and leading into different directions. Bron picks up the scent of freshwater as he follows the footprints in the sand. He picks up the walking pace before losing this new scent. At the source of the water is a scene he'll never forget. Longnecks who became trapped up to their bellies, and in some cases necks, in a large tar pit. All that remained were bones. Bones chewed apart, picked clean, and pulled from the original bodies. All strewn along the edges of the mud. The scavengers could only reach so far as a few became stuck themselves trying to reach the rest of the bodies barely submerged in the pit. The poor longnecks never had a chance. The surrounding landscape is dotted with other examples of such carnage. Bron quickly and carefully leaves the horrific scene as it fills him with dread.
As Bron wanders away from the death traps, he notices a fresh set of tracks. He caught up with the longneck herd. The muddy tracks lead into the direction of another small system of cliffs. It's quite a ways off in the distance.
"Hopefully the herd is still around," Bron whispered to himself. "I'd like a break after walking nonstop for days..."
As Bron stumbles to the hill formations in the horizon, a pair of lost brothers show up ahead of a major sandstorm. They've been trying to outrun the wind in order to find shelter. Their luck has run out, though. The cloud is right on their tails.
"Ozzy, I don't think we can outrun this sand cloud," one brother yelped.
"We need to try, Strut!," Ozzy yelled over the increasing winds. "If we get turned around, again, we won't make it another day."
They notice Bron lumbering toward shelter in the distance. He's far enough way to barely make out the shape of his body. Ozzy and Strut squint as sand obscures their vision.
"Follow that longneck," Ozzy said.
"How?" Strut asked. "I can barely see him anymore."
"Keep your head down and follow his footprints," Ozzy said, quite irritated from all the sand blowing around.
Ozzy points to the ground. They're indeed Bron's tracks since there's fresh mud and tar in each print. Strut sighs as he grabs onto Ozzy's tail so they're not separated in the low visibility.
In a completely different part of the wastelands, sitting on a rock outcrop for a midday break, Pterano watches the sandstorm in the distance rage on. The group of flyers he and his sister met up with are from all over the continent. The same sad story echoes through each of their stories. A sudden flash in the distance, the earthquakes, the intense burning sand falling from the sky, losing loved ones, it was too much to take in from so many individuals at once. When it was Pterano's turn to speak, he decided to try a different approach.
"And what about you?" a nearby flyer asked.
"We were starting a world flight when the disaster struck," Petrie's mother said. "There's no way to know if our other family members survived. I'd rather not think about it..."
"This disaster had the power to change all of our lives. Maybe we can take that power back," Pterano said. "The flash in the distance. It had to have been something beyond our understanding. By confronting it we can learn the truth. To turn our misfortune around. Who will follow me to find this power?"
His sister is shocked by these words. The other flyers who were listening shook their heads in disapproval. Quite a few call him crazy, while others murmur how their old lives are never coming back. Most of them fly off, leaving only his sister and a couple of others who have yet to take off. Even a rainbowface traveling in the background shakes his head at the absurdity.
"Pterano, what are you talking about?" she asked, worried about the tone of these new words.
"It's okay, sis," Pterano said in a reassuring tone. "Follow me beyond the southeastern horizon. We can return to our old lives again."
"...did you eat that glowing cave mushroom?" Petrie's mother quickly asked while glaring at her brother.
"What, no! I mean what I say!" Pterano blurted out.
Two strange flyers approach as the two siblings continue their disagreement. One is anxiously holding his tail. The other rolls his eyes at the commotion around him. They fully accepted Pterano's offer.
"I'll go with ya. I've lost everything and everybody in my life," the anxious one said.
"Count me in, too," the sarcastic one replied. "I'd like a taste of this power you speak about."
"And who are you two?" Pterano asked.
"I'm Sierra. My tail wringing buddy over there is Rinkus," Sierra said.
"You're really going, aren't you…," Petrie's mother quietly said, realizing Pterano isn't kidding around.
"Please come with me," Pterano pleaded.
"No. I will not follow you into unknown danger. You heard the other flyers. The closer to the flash, the more the land has changed for the worse!" Petrie's mother exclaimed. "With food as scarce as it is, and with The Giant Flyer hunting us down now, I'd rather stay with the group. They're searching for The Great Valley."
"So you'd rather chase after a mythical valley? Which may not even exist?" Pterano asked in surprise.
"Your plan for finding some great power is no better!" she screeched back. "There's a much better chance of a protected valley surviving. I'm disappointed in you, Pterano."
She flies away in a huff as a male within the flyer group calls for her. Pterano's two new followers speak badly about his sister.
"She'll just slow us down," Sierra remarked.
"Yeah, forget about her," Rinkus gleefully added. "We have our own travel plans."
Pterano looks back longingly at his sister as she takes off with the rest of the group.
"If you say so…," Pterano mumbled.
The three flyers start their southeast journey to find the cause of the flash that one fateful night.
Wandering the barren land, Cera's father wonders if Tria is still alive. He's been upset about losing her since the night of the impact. With more and more dying of starvation in the threehorn herds, and with none of the others spotting her on their travels, he starts to have his doubts. A few herd members are sick of his sulking. One decides to speak up.
"Toughen up, will ya," a nearby threehorn blurts out. "We've all lost someone. Your loss is no more tragic than the rest."
He was about to rip into them when it was interrupted by screams from the rear. The Sharptooth from the night of the impact has returned. He's grabbed a slower member's back leg. The Sharptooth is attempting to drag him away from the group.
"Help me! Please, help me!" the threehorn pleaded as he felt his body give way to exhaustion.
Help is too late as The Sharptooth pulls the threehorn behind a rock wall. Out of sight from the rest, a sickening loud crunch is heard. The screaming suddenly stops as blood pours out into view.
"There's nothing more we can do! He's gone," the threehorn leader solemnly said. "We need to hurry on before another falls victim to The Sharptooth!"
Murmurs abound about that particular Sharptooth being more dangerous than most. Stories being passed along that he's been hunting the herds for fun, leaving a wake of terror and blood. Cera's father learned to stay in the middle of the group to avoid being picked off like his traveling companions. A sandstorm blows in and conceals their movements from The Sharptooth as they search for shelter. The leader bumps into a stone feature. They followed the wall to find a way around the natural barrier. A whole herd of threehorns stuck in one place would be easy pickings for The Sharptooth roaming about. Another way is eventually found as night falls. They've found a canyon to sit out the ensuing sandstorm. There's even a few tough plants along the walls and a small pool of water collected by drippings off the rock walls. Enough for a brief stop. The peace breaks once the leader discovers there's a longneck herd already taking shelter.
"Back it up, there's a longneck herd in here," the threehorn leader said.
As the herd attempts to leave, Bron suddenly bursts through the sandstorm into the shelter. He spooks the threehorns enough to reconsider braving the sandstorm again. A few tails are accidentally stamped on as he plows through. Cera's father is the first to greet Bron. It's not a nice first meeting.
"Watch where you're stepping, longneck!" Cera's father exclaimed in surprise.
"I'm terribly sorry. I didn't see you there," Bron apologetically said.
He quickly integrates into the longneck herd to avoid stepping on anymore threehorns. Littlefoot's mother lifts her head up from a light sleep, thinking she heard someone familiar in the commotion. She sees him come into view.
"Bron? Is that really you?" a familiar voice asked.
"It's really me," Bron responded.
"Quite a few of our members have been lost, including your family members," she quietly said.
Bron is visibly upset at the news. He wonders if the longnecks in the mud pit fields could have been them. He shakes the thought away, he's had enough with existential crises for a lifetime. Bron is grateful his three traveling companions are still around. They settle in for the night, or try to, as the longneck and threehorn herd leaders argue over resources. The longneck leader becomes fed up with the argument.
"That's just fine. My herd will be leaving shortly after first light," the longneck leader loudly said. "You threehorns can have it all!"
"Hmph, fine. More for our hungry bellies," the threehorn leader replied.
The leaders split to find a place to rest within their own herds. Everyone else listening sighs a breath of relief as they can finally get some rest without their leaders bickering at each other all night.
Later in the night, the two brothers following Bron finally arrive where the longnecks are sheltering. They wander with their heads still down, Strut hanging onto the end of Ozzy's tail, following large footprints through the raging sandstorm. Strut quietly complains about hunger as they enter the canyon. After rubbing the sand out of his eyes, Ozzy notices there's also a threehorn herd taking shelter among the longnecks.
"Strut, shut up, there's two big herds in here," Ozzy aggressively whispered.
"I'm still hungry, though," Strut whined.
"Shhh. We've got to gather quietly," Ozzy whispered. "Do you want to be kicked out, or worse, trampled?"
Strut closes his mouth while shaking his head, no. He quietly follows Ozzy to gather the few sources of plants and fruit along the canyon walls. They try their best to tip-toe around the sleeping dinosaurs, especially around the sleeping threehorns. Once gathered, they eat as quickly and quietly as possible. They take turns keeping a lookout while the other slurps down enough water to wet their dry throats. A few stir in their sleep, which spooks Ozzy and Strut. A narrow crevice is found nearby that leads to another chamber big enough to fit two smaller creatures. A scorpion is taking residence in the hiding spot. Strut does his best not to screech as Ozzy gently picks it up. He snaps the tail tip off and tosses it aside. The scorpion is evenly portioned among the two.
"Yeah, sure, you're okay with eating it," Ozzy remarked.
"Food's food, Ozzy," Strut replied while happily eating. "Besides, it can't hurt me without that stinger."
They snuggle up to each other for warmth on the frigid rock floor. It doesn't last long since they're rudely awakened by the ground shaking. The herds are stomping around in the canyon due to yet another disagreement. Strut thinks it's an earthquake and beings to scream. Ozzy quickly clamps his claws around Strut's face so they aren't heard or found. All they can do is listen. The herd leaders are fighting over a midnight snacker, potentially munching on food on the wrong side.
"How dare you accuse my herd of stealing!" the longneck leader yelled.
"You're the only ones in here with necks long enough to reach!" the threehorn leader screamed back.
"Hmph, we have long necks, but not that long!" the longneck leader replied. "It was probably one of your threehorns sneaking a snack!"
Ozzy and Strut glance at each other as the squabble ends when the longneck leader has had enough. They realized they were so close to being caught and did their best to stay quiet to keep it that way.
"Listen up! We're leaving. Now," the longneck leader said, addressing her own herd. "Better wake up if you don't want to be left behind."
Bron and his traveling companions wake up to the sudden call. They notice the sun's light is barely peeking across the horizon. Bron and Littlefoot's mom groan as they're still wiped out from traveling through a sandstorm. The herd eats what they can at the last minute.
"You threehorns can have it all," she said with disdain.
With the longneck herd's back to her, the threehorn leader yells out in a snarky tone, "Good luck with The Sharptooth prowling around!"
Once the longneck herd has moved out, the threehorn leader starts to bark out their plans.
"Now that the longnecks are gone, we can stay a little longer," she calmly said. "We'll leave after the great circle touches the ground twice."
Ozzy and Strut realize they're now stuck until most of the threehorn herd falls asleep at sunset. The way out had guards posted shortly after the leader announced the new plan. They don't want to be seen skulking around after the food fiasco between the longneck and threehorn herds.
"I miss our family. Mom and dad...the others in the herd," Strut sadly said as he recalled the night everything was set ablaze.
"So do I," Ozzy quietly replied while nuzzling up next to his brother.
They wait in their little alcove all day long in order to sneak out in the cover of night. They drank water by licking the morning dew off the rocks while it was available. Ozzy caught scorpions whenever they scurried past to gobble down. Strut happily took his share. It was the most he had eaten in days. A small pile of scorpion stingers pile up in an unused corner.
Night falls and this night is just as frigid as the last. Ozzy and Strut peek their heads out to make sure the threehorns in their potential path are sleeping. Thankfully they are. Ozzy leads Strut in tip-toeing to the exit. It's dark, so they don't notice the drab body of Cera's father. He notices them sneaking around and quickly blocks the exit.
"Who are you? Why are you sneaking around? Are you sharpteeth up to no good, hmmm?" he snapped at the two brothers.
"Oh, no, we're not sharpteeth," Ozzy said, trying to mask his fear.
Strut opens his mouth.
"We don't even have any teeth!" Strut quickly replied.
Cera's father huffs as he grows impatient.
"We're just passing through," Ozzy said, "looking for shelter from the sand cloud and The Sharptooth."
Cera's father sighs while moving out of the way of the exit. He lets Ozzy and Strut go while feeling pity for the smaller creatures. They're little more than a snack for a sharptooth. Ozzy and Strut do their best to act normal while walking out into the cold, dark wastelands. They picked up the pace to a full run once they were sure nobody could see them anymore.
"That threehorn was scary," Strut stammered. "I'm glad he didn't try to accuse us of stealing food or water."
"He would have gored us on the spot if he suspected us, Strut," Ozzy replied.
"Yeah…," Strut murmured. He imagined the threehorn stabbing him in the abdomen with a brow horn.
"At least the sand clouds dissipated," Ozzy said. "It'll be easier to follow the longneck herd."
He points to the trail of longneck tracks slowly being erased by the cold wind.
"We need to hurry before losing their trail to the winds."
"Is...is that such a good idea?" Strut asked, worried about future conflicts.
"Longnecks can see more than us," Ozzy stated. "They should find shelter a lot faster than the other herds. Besides, they're a lot nicer than the threehorns…"
Strut nods and agrees with his brother. It's a good idea to follow at least one of the herds for their own survival. They run off into the frigid night, with a plan to loosely follow the herd in order to not be seen just in case the longnecks feel trample-happy.
Author Notes: We get to see more of the other characters. Finally, right? The Giant Flyer is supposed to be a quetzalcoatlus northropi. If this were illustrated, she'd be stylized like the liopluerodon in Journey to Big Water. More realistic proportions and colors compared to the other characters. More of her is to come in the next two chapters. The next two chapters are also my favorites. So stay tuned!