I did my absolute best to make this as emotional as I could. I in no way wanted to stain it.

Originally this was going to be a two part chapter, but I changed my mind.

Brothers Under the Bright Circle

Chapter 5:

To Heal A Broken Heart

Sky water poured relentlessly upon the land below as an ominous shadow enveloped it, but there was no sign of the Night Circle. Hidden behind the clouds, it made it almost impossible to see. If a biter had passed by a steep ravine, it would have even noticed the large unconscious longneck lying motionlessly amongst the rubble and dirt. The first thing Whiplash became aware of was the almost unbearable stinging sensation where Sharptooth's clawed feet had cut into his side. He lifted his head, groaning in pain from the ache in his head, but he shook it off. He turned his neck and saw where the rakes on his side were, and the blood being washed away by the sky water.

Stiffly, he got up to his feet and glanced around his surroundings. It took him a moment to realise that it was completely dark and his whole world had been turned upside down by some unknown force of nature. Slowly his memories came back to him and he recalled how he had protected Littlefoot and Cera as best as he could, but the two-footed carnivore had done something to him and had knocked him out. Judging from the darkness and the pouring sky water, he knew that he had been knocked out for quite a long time, but he was not sure how long.

He glanced up from where he had fallen and all he saw was rocks and what appeared to be an enormous cliff towering high above him in the far-off distance. From what he remembered from his lessons about earthshakes, they had an infamous reputation of changing the landscape, but this one had been a lot different from what he had experienced in the past. A deep crack unlike anything he had seen before stretched out before him like the deep scratches on his side. He hoped that they would heal and not leave any scars like the one on his cheek. The last thing he wanted was to be a scarred youngster.

Then he jolted as if he had been hit by a bolt of sky fire. Despite his aches and pains, he knew that he could not worry about his troubles. Where was Littlefoot? Had he found his mother? Had they managed to escape the danger of the earthshake? Were they safe? Hastily, he scrambled to the edge of the ravine and hoisted himself up with all the strength he had left. Nothing was more important to him than the safety of Littlefoot and his mother. If they had somehow managed to escape Sharptooth's jaws unscathed, it would be an absolute miracle.

"You better be alive, you two," he muttered to himself as he struggled to climb up, "just… please be alive."

When he finally reached the top, his eyes widened. The landscape had changed worse than he thought. There was not a sign of life anywhere, not even a barren tree nor a ground crawler. It was completely devoid of everything.

Disheartened, Whiplash lowered his head slightly, mourning for the lives that were lost to this terrible disaster. Now it seemed that finding Littlefoot or his mother alive would just be a sliver of a chance, but there was a small part of him that hoped that they were alright and safe. The last he recalled as he toppled over the edge, Littlefoot and Cera had gone where he had last seen the herd.

"That would mean," he pondered to himself, "that they went that way."

He turned his head slightly toward the right of his position and began his search. As he walked, the wide ravine near the edge of the cliff seemed to have widened further than he had anticipated, and the other side stood higher than him. He wasn't sure how far it was, but he figured it was more than at least five of his full lengths, perhaps more.

The sky water continued to pour until he realised he was soaked to the bone, and the stinging on his side grew worse. But if he pushed onward, not willing to let a few measly scratches stop him from finding his family. His other family, he corrected himself. He shook his head as he neared the widest part of the gap, and he thought he caught a glimpse of a lone longneck in the distance, but he knew that it was not Littlefoot's mother nor one of their grandparents.

Whoever it was, he didn't even really care, his goal had been set. He had to find Littlefoot and his mother quickly or else he'd lose whatever sliver of hope he had left. He carefully lowered his head to the ground, trying to find any tracks in the mud that the sky water was trying to wash away. He thought he saw the prints of a hatchling threehorn going in the opposite direction, but she was not of his concern.

He had been so focused on the tracks, and the wind was howling so strongly, that he almost missed a familiar voice calling for…

"Littlefoot!" he gasped, and he bolted toward the voice as fast as he could.

With his long legs, his stride allowed him to cover the distance to get to Littlefoot quickly, but he never anticipated what was waiting for him near a hill of rocks and boulders. As the sky fire flashed briefly, he caught the sight of an all too familiar body of an adult female longneck. His eyes widened. The longneck was lying almost motionlessly on a crest of rocks, and as she struggled to get up, the rocks crumbled beneath her weight.

It was at that moment that he spotted a tiny young longneck heading toward her.

"No…" he whispered as he carefully made his way down the slope. He didn't know how, but… he almost knew what was happening and as he drew closer, his heart immediately sunk like a rock in his chest. It became heavier and heavier until he stood a few feet behind Littlefoot.

As if she sensed his presence, the mother longneck lifted her head up slowly and smiled sadly.

Littlefoot whipped around and saw the familiar silhouette of Whiplash in the darkness. "W-Whiplash?" he sobbed. At the nod of his elder brother, he got up quickly and raced over to his leg, pressing his face into his skin. Whiplash lowered his neck and wrapped his head around the trembling child, trying to ease whatever worries he had on his mind. "Y-you're alive. I thought… I thought Sharptooth had…"

"I'm alive, Littlefoot," Whiplash confirmed, but his eyes never left the dying mother. "That is all that matters. What happened?" He edged a little closer, but then stepped back when he saw the deep bite mark. "Did Sharptooth do this to you?!" His eyes twisted into a deep frown and his lips pulled back in anger.

"Mother sent him over the edge," Littlefoot hastily explained.

"It…" she wheezed, "it matters no more… What matters to me… is that you're both safe."

"What are you saying, mother?" Littlefoot cried, turning back to her. He pressed his nose into hers, tears soaking his cheeks and mixing with the sky water. "You're going to be fine, you're staying with us." His choked sobs only pained Whiplash more.

Her violet eyes left her son and focused on Whiplash. "Whiplash," she sighed weakly.

He lowered his head closer to her trembling lips, knowing deep down in his heart she had something important to say. He did not need to ask her what she wanted to say, he knew… he just knew.

"Promise me," she said, "promise me that… you will… look after Littlefoot. Take him… take him to the Great Valley… promise me… that you will protect him…"

Tears began to form in Whiplash's eyes, but the sky water washed them away just as quickly as they came. He gently pressed his snout to her forehead, stroking it as softly as he could. "I promise, mother…" he whispered softly in her ears, "I promise I will watch over him until my last breath."

"That is… all I can ever ask of you."

Whiplash pulled his head back as Littlefoot approached his mother and she turned to him, her strength was fading fast, she did not have much time left.

"My dear sweet Littlefoot… I wish… I could make the rest of the journey with you…"

Littlefoot began to sniff louder and he pressed his face deeper into the folds of her skin just like before when he had been a small newborn hatchling.

"But… I want to remember one thing: I will always be with you… even if you cannot see me. Let your heart guide you… it whispers… so listen closely…"

Slowly, she drew her last breath, and the mother of Littlefoot and the daughter of his grandparents passed on to another world. Whiplash lowered his head in a silent moment, and his voice spoke softly as he prayed, "May your journey to Sauro's Paradise be a peaceful one, Mother."

He opened his eyes as the sky water continued to pour heavily and he looked up at the heavens briefly before he returned his focus to the still sobbing Littlefoot. If they didn't move now, then there was a chance that they wouldn't just get sick from the storm but the possibility of predators was never too far from the back of his mind.

He had no other choice.

He lowered his head and picked Littlefoot up by the tail.

"What are you doing?!" Littlefoot yelled. "Mother's still alive! We have to go back for her!"

But Whiplash did not even answer, despite the frantic kicking and yelling at his face he turned and carefully walked back up the rocky slope.

And not once did he look back at the broken body of the very longneck who had shown him compassion in his time of great sorrow. There would never be another longneck like her.

As the sky water continued to pour on the land below, he moved further and further away from the body of Littlefoot's mother until she had disappeared into the darkness. By the time they reached the top of the hill, Littlefoot had given up on his attempt to get away from his elder brother, knowing that it was pointless to even fight against him. Instead, he hung like a dead weight and his sobbing continued to worsen.

Whiplash did not blame him for acting like this, but he had to find shelter quickly or else they would either freeze to death or catch a sickness.

When he got to the top of the hill, the elder longneck glanced around for any signs of shelter, like a cave that was big enough for him to fit in. Unfortunately, he knew that it would be a very slim chance of that even happening, and when the sky fire cast its eerie glow he spotted a cave that was big enough to fit his head inside, he trotted over to it.

He gently set Littlefoot on the ground and pushed him inside with his snout, much to Littlefoot's protests.

"Just get inside and stay there for the time being," he commanded, but his tone was not unkind.

For the first time in his young long life, Littlefoot realised that Whiplash was being sincere and not showing his usual stoicism. Whimpering, he did as he was told, crawling deeper inside the cave until he was completely enveloped in darkness. The sky fire only briefly illuminated the walls of the cavern and he could see that it was wide enough for Whiplash to fit his head inside if he wanted. Once he was inside, Whiplash laid down and snaked his long neck inside, but he only let it go halfway in to give Littlefoot some space.

When he got a look inside, he saw Littlefoot curled up in a ball and shaking uncontrollably.

Whiplash opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out and he mentally cursed himself for his foolishness. Littlefoot was just a child who had just lost a mother he had known his entire young life. He, on the other paw, had seen death countless times and done his absolute best to put a wall around his heart to shield himself from the grief. He had only known Littlefoot's mother for the same amount, but his grief was nothing compared to this child's own. Littlefoot was separated from his grandparents and his mother was dead. All he had left was a stranger he had called brother his entire life.

They were basically strangers in the dark.

He sighed softly and rested his head nearby. How could he say sorry for this child's loss? It would be like trying to convince an adult that it was something to get over with in the natural world.

There was nothing he could do but wait and give Littlefoot some space. It was the kindest thing he could offer him for the time being until the storm went away, but eventually they would have to move further away from this place. If they didn't leave soon, they would surely starve and he would not allow Littlefoot's grief take control of his survival instincts. Without his family to help teach him the ways of the world, Whiplash knew that it was up to him to pick up where they left off. After all, he had survived the wilderness long before he even met this small band of longnecks, and it seemed only fair that he do what they could not.

"AH!"

Whiplash's head shot up in an instant and he was immediately placing his head and neck between whatever had frightened him. He felt him trembling as the terrified child clung to him for dear life. Whiplash glared icy cold daggers at whatever had frightened him, but he found himself pulling back when he saw what caused Littlefoot to scream.

A dark green pebbly belly crawling creature emerged from the shadows and shot a cold stare at the two, his pale brown eyebrows twisted in displeasure at having been disturbed from his sleep. "What's going on here?" he demanded.

Whiplash emitted a growl from his throat, causing the creature to stare up at him with surprise.

"Leave him alone," the bigger longneck warned. "Can't you see that you're scaring him?"

The creature snorted as Littlefoot trembled tearfully. "What's your problem? He's not even hurt."

"What do you know about hurt?" Whiplash demanded.

"It's all her fault," Littlefoot sobbed. "She should have known better…"

"All who's fault?" the creature asked gruffly.

"Mother's!" Littlefoot cried, burying his face into the thick folds of Whiplash's neck. Whiplash turned his head and pulled him closer to offer whatever comfort he could, all the while shielding him from view. The other dinosaur's eyes immediately softened when he heard this and he looked down at the ground. Whiplash continued to glare at him, attempting to make him look at him to show how serious he was about the situation.

"A predator named Sharptooth attacked us," he explained a little harshly, "I tried to protect him and a hatchling threehorn, but I thought I knocked him out cold. I was wrong and Sharptooth kicked me down the slope, knocking me out cold. Littlefoot's mother… she died protecting him when I could have done better to prevent her…"

The dinosaur's eyes softened when he heard the story, "Oh, I see…" he muttered, "I see…"

"If I hadn't wandered so far from home," Littlefoot whimpered, "mother would still be…"

Whiplash turned his gaze to him and his eyes softened somewhat. "No," he said, shaking his head as he tried to hide his own falling tears, "it's my fault for not paying attention to Sharptooth when I knocked him down. If I hadn't been so focused on ensuring you and the threehorn got away…"

"Hush now," the elder dinosaur said gently and the two looked over him, surprised, "it is none of your faults, nor is it your mother's. Now, you two pay attention to old Rooter."

Littlefoot watched him curiously despite the continuing fall of his tears, and Whiplash eyed the elder with a small hint of suspicion and protectiveness.

"It is nobody's fault," Rooter continued, addressing Littlefoot, "the Great Circle of Life has begun. But you see… not all of us arrive together at the end."

"But what'll I do?" Littlefoot choked. "I… I miss her so much."

"And you'll always miss her," Rooter told him kindly, "but she'll always be with you as long as you remember the things she taught you. In a way… you'll never be apart, for you are still apart of each other."

Despite the heartbreak Littlefoot had experienced with the death of his mother, Rooter's kind words of comfort seemed to mend it only slightly. It was never completely whole, but it was enough to give the child a small sliver of hope. Whiplash wished he could do more but mending it would take many years. It would be a subject he would be sensitive for possibly the rest of his life.

Time heals most wounds, he thought sadly as he looked over at him from the corner of his eye, but not all.

"My tummy hurts," Littlefoot suddenly moaned.

Rooter sighed, "Well, that too will go in time, Littlefoot. Only in time."

His eyes then rested on Whiplash, who was continuing to watch his little brother like a guardian sent down from the heavens above. "As for you," he said, snapping Whiplash to attention, "you are quite strange looking for a longneck."

Whiplash frowned. "Does it matter?" he asked coldly.

"Hmph," Rooter huffed, "I've seen one part of your kind of longneck, but they came from a far away land. But, however, you are different from them."

Whiplash turned his head away, not wanting to make eye contact with Rooter. "My father is from one part of the far away land. My mother… I barely remember her at all. The one thing I remember was being beside my father's feet as we came to the herd."

He hoped for Littlefoot's sake that he was far too tired to be paying attention to the conversation.

Rooter seemed to sense how sensitive the longneck's past was to him. He nodded sympathetically. "The herd has very strict laws, there is no need to say more, my son. I understand why you do not talk about it." His eyes rested on Littlefoot for a moment before they returned to Whiplash. "If you must protect him from the harshness from the world, then so be it. But," his tone dropped to a sliver of seriousness, "do not let it get in the way of doing what you think is right. Someday he will grow up, do not keep the truth away from your loved ones forever. The past will always come back to haunt you."

At those words, Whiplash felt himself shiver, but it was not from the coldness of the wind and sky water outside.

Without speaking another word, Rooter got up on his feet and shuffled outside, easily bypassing Whiplash's neck and out into the ongoing storm, leaving the two alone once more.

With Rooter gone, there was more space for Littlefoot to move around and he sunk to the floor, ignoring the gnawing hunger in the pit of his stomach. Whiplash gently pulled away until his head was outside. He wanted to give Littlefoot some space, so he turned his head to the sky and allowed the sky water to once again drench him to the bone. It was a sacrifice he was willing to make for Littlefoot's own sake.

He tucked his legs underneath his chest and curled his tail around his side. It would be a long time before the sky water stopped, so it didn't really bother him much. He gently laid his head down, keeping it close to the entrance of the cave so that Littlefoot could see that he was there.

Slowly, Whiplash drifted off to restless sleep, his mind troubled by today's events.