Here it is guys, hope I didn't leave you hanging too long.

I also hope you enjoy some lore from Whiplash's herd. It's not uncommon for many different herds of dinosaurs to have different cultures (at least that's how I headcanon it), and I thought I'd show that with Whiplash telling a "folklore hero" story, kind of like with Watership Down's "El-ahrairah and Frith" and Firebringer's "Starbuck and Herne".

I basically migrated my idea from my original novel that I was planning to write, but never could.

Please give some feedback, as I really wanted this to work in some hindsight.

Brothers Under the Bright Circle

Chapter 9

The Past Always Comes Back

It was two days later since the group got together that they came to a small fast flowing river. The younger members were tired, thirsty and quite hungry from lack of experience and they greedily downed as much as they could to satisfy themselves. Whiplash wasn't particularly bothered thanks to having experienced the harsh wilderness in the past, but he was more than happy to quench his thirst, only taking in a few mouthfuls so that Littlefoot and the others could get what they needed.

As he tilted his head back to let the water flow down his throat, he spotted Cera further away from the group from the corner of his eye. She didn't even look his way, but he suspected she knew he was looking at her. Nevertheless, she drank her fill despite her wariness of the others that all hung out together like as if there was no differences between them.

Even though it had only been a few days since they had found Ducky at the pond, it had felt like weeks since he had a satisfying drink of fresh water that wasn't so dirty and foul tasting. The feeling of the water pouring down his throat had no words for him to describe and he wished he did.

"Wow."

He opened his eyes and was surprised to see Littlefoot and the others looking up at him with awe. He quirked a brow and a tiny smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "What?"

His little brother pointed at his neck with a paw. "That trick you just did," he explained. "I've never seen…" He hesitated before he sighed. "I've never seen my grandparents do that before."

Whiplash lowered his head down to his level, a twinkle of mirth sparkling in his eye. "That's because we very rarely came across water that was completely fulfilling," he told him. "I think they knew of it, of course. But it's no trick, Littlefoot, practically all of us longnecks can do it as long as you don't choke."

"So, what is the trick?" Ducky asked curiously.

He turned to her, the spark in his eye never fading. "Only by getting a large mouthful of water." He dunked his muzzle into the water, barely breaking its surface, and lifted his neck as high as it could go and tilted it back, swallowing deeply. "That's all there is to it. When there isn't much water around, you take as much as you can in your mouth, throw back and let your throat do the rest. It saves on precious time in case a sharp-tooth appears and takes you by surprise. Your eyes and ears must always be open to your surroundings."

Littlefoot's expression changed to confused. "You do that in case something could attack?"

Whiplash nodded in response. Ducky and Petrie let off an 'ooh' sound as they understood what he meant. Littlefoot seemed to understand it better as he looked away, his young mind piecing the puzzle together.

He then turned back and asked: "Did your father teach you that?"

The mood was instantly changed the moment the question left the younger longneck's mouth. Gone was the mirth in Whiplash's eyes, now replaced with a great sadness. His mind flashed with memories of his childhood, of his own father who had nurtured and raised him since the day he first hatched. His father had taught him almost everything there was to know about surviving and looking out those he cared about.

"Whiplash, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to ask," Littlefoot stammered. He galloped into his elder brother's field of vision and everything faded away from Whiplash's mind. "Are you alright?"

He forced himself to smile, but it was weak and pathetic. He didn't want to answer and give Littlefoot the idea that it had hurt him more than he would care to tell. Littlefoot was very observant, and it was the one thing he didn't like about him, the ongoing questions probed deeper and deeper into his very being and it irked him to no end.

In an attempt to dissuade him from his questioning, Whiplash nudged him and Spike forward, much to the sleepy spiketail's disappointment. "Come, we need to move on and find a place to rest for the night," he suggested, much to Littlefoot's ongoing confusion.

He was about to call out to the threehorn, but Cera was already moving long before Petrie and Ducky had taken their place on Spike's back. He frowned in annoyance, unable to hide how much she was willing to get underneath his skin.

They came upon a steep looking cliff that overlooked a wide gorge. Littlefoot glanced around for a way around it, but he couldn't see anything that looked like a bridge. While he debated with Whiplash on a way to get across or down, Spike's nose began to twitch. Ducky leaned forward over his head and peered into his violet eyes curiously.

"Do you smell something, Spike?" she asked.

Spike grunted and inhaled deeply before nodding.

Scratching her head, Ducky sniffed too, but she couldn't smell anything that would be worth noting. "I do not smell anything," she sighed. She turned to Petrie. "Can you smell anything?"

He clambered over and sniffed as well. "I smell, I smell…" He paused and looked confused. "Hm, Ducky."

She giggled, but she still couldn't smell what it was that interested Spike. He was still sniffing, but he wasn't paying attention to the others. He put his nose to the ground and began to walk forward. Whiplash turned his attention from Littlefoot and saw that Spike was moving so he drew a little closer and poked his side with his muzzle. Spike stopped in his tracks, but his focus wasn't on the larger longneck.

"Something worth smelling?" Whiplash asked.

Spike nodded once again.

"Spike smells something," Ducky explained, "he does, he does. I just cannot smell what he's smelling."

Cera's mood turned sour and she snorted before kicking up dust in Spike's face as she walked past, head tilted back snobbishly. "There's nothing to smell but sand and rocks," she snorted.

Spike's expression changed to hurt but Ducky petted his neck comfortingly, making him feel a little better.

Whiplash rolled his eyes. "Sometimes the smallest scent can mean anything," he explained. He lifted his head high and sniffed for a moment before he frowned in thought. "Unfortunately, your sniffers aren't as well developed yet, and you might smell things that can be easily missed. However, Spike's is… unique I would say. I might not smell things as well as he can, but…" He inhaled, his chest expanding before he let it go. "I don't think many of you have smelt green food before."

All of the children stopped and looked up at him, bewildered. Littlefoot sniffed the air too and he soon detected what he hadn't seen since his mother had given him his treestar. "I smell it now!" he exclaimed, eyes wide with excitement.

Ducky hugged Spike's neck and he smiled wide.

"Good job, Spike," Littlefoot complimented and Spike's smile grew wider.

Whiplash lowered his head once more, warmth now clear in his eyes. "Can you lead the way?"

Spike nodded, and he glanced around the cliff. Whiplash could tell that the scent was faintly coming from down the gorge, so there had to be a way down somehow. Spike's face lit up when he spotted something, and he bolted over to it, with the others following close behind. Ducky soon saw what he had seen, and she beamed with delight.

"Me think Spike see a path down," Petrie pointed out.

Littlefoot approached it and jumped back. The pathway looked very narrow and didn't appear to be able to support Whiplash's weight. Whiplash chuckled at Littlefoot's concern. "Don't worry," he said. "The cliff isn't that steep for me, I should be able to slide down its face as long as I'm careful."

Someone as large as Whiplash couldn't possibly slide down a slope as steep as this. At least that's what Littlefoot first thought, but his brother had surprised him before in the past, so he doubted this would be any different. All he could do was acknowledge and trust that Whiplash knew what he was doing while he guided the others down to safety.

With his much smaller companions taking the safer route, Whiplash scanned the cliff's edge for anything that looked sturdy enough to support his weight. As far as he could see, there didn't seem to be a safe way down for him at all, but he was proven wrong a moment later when he spotted a dirt slope a longneck length from his far right. He approached it cautiously, his mind constantly working overtime to find any loose rock that would hinder his descent down. He even placed his front feet on the edge of the cliff to test if it could take his entire weight. When the dirt didn't give way, he nodded with satisfaction and stepped back, inhaling deeply and bracing himself.

He hadn't done this before, but he recalled how his father had shown him a method in going down a steep slope like this one, mainly using it as a means of escaping a hungry sharp-tooth that he couldn't fight or if he was far too exhausted to even fight at all. This tactic usually involved putting most of his weight on his rump and back legs and let the slope do the rest, but he still had to be careful when he went down as it could eventually backfire if he didn't know how to control his momentum. He'd only done this a few times during training, perhaps it could assist him again should the situation call for it in the future.

"Father's teachings don't fail me now," he whispered to himself.

Carefully, he leaned backward, resting all of his weight on his back legs and rump, tucking his long thin tail close to his body, and let himself go.

At first it seemed like he wasn't gaining much ground, but eventually, the speed began to increase as he went further down. The descent soon came to a steeper slope and Whiplash had to angle his legs slightly to keep control over his body, his stomach lurched with discomfort as he continued to gain more speed. Faster and faster he fell, but he kept hold of his growing panic, remembering his father's teachings of remaining calm.

He soon spotted the bottom and he had to fight the urge to regurgitate his last meal from out of fear the quicker he approached it. His backside hurt from the constant rubbing of the stones against his thick skin, and the three gashes on his sides were itching from the dirt encasing it.

His trepidation soon ended the moment he returned to solid ground, but his momentum still carried him forward, toward a rock that he hadn't noticed was there before. He fought back the cry of pain from his throat as his chest slammed into it and he collapsed on his uninjured side. He thought he heard the shouts of concern from Littlefoot and his spinning vision just barely made out the five children racing to him, with Cera only a small distance behind Spike.

Littlefoot was the first to reach him and he pushed his nose against his scarred cheek with concern. "Whiplash, are you alright?" he demanded. "Say something!"

Whiplash grunted in response but winced in discomfort when his chest filled him with pain when he breathed. He stood up slowly, sucking in slow gulps of air in the hopes that nothing was damaged outside… or inside.

"I'm going to feel that in the morning," he groaned, shaking his head, once he confirmed that there were no broken bones. He should count himself as lucky with taking a blow to the chest like that at the speed he was going. "Nothing's broken, thank Sauro."

Littlefoot glanced at the others and then back at Whiplash in confusion. "Who is Sauro?" he asked.

The elder longneck became puzzled and lifted a brow. "You mean to tell me you have not heard of him?" he asked, surprised.

All five children shook their heads.

Whiplash ducked his head to put a paw on his forehead. He had forgotten that Littlefoot did not grown up in the same herd he had and that different herds of longnecks often had different beliefs, customs and cultures. Only some had legends that all of them shared together. After he regained his composure, he smiled softly. "I'll tell you about him after we fill our stomachs," he promised.

Once he was certain that he was just bruised, they followed Spike down the gorge, the scent of green food now becoming stronger to their noses. Whiplash raised his head when it became apparent that they were nearing their destination and his eyes widened with relief.

"There it is," he announced, and the children cheered with relief when they spotted a large clump of trees packed tightly together at the far end of the gorge, their branches covered in the greenest food they had ever seen. Even Cera, who had been stubbornly keeping away from them, could not help but water at the thought of having green food to eat.

Unable to help themselves, the young ones ran ahead toward food, possibly water, shelter and rest.

Whiplash watched them go with a hint of a smile forming on his lips. It had been a long gruelling journey since they last saw edible food and drinkable water, resources that could benefit them in the long run until the next time they came across another oasis. For the time being, the children could be children and enjoy their accomplishments.

Slowly he approached them, watching the children jump about excitedly until they paused.

Oh.

"The trees are too tall," Littlefoot sighed, lowering his head in disappointment. "Unless we climb on each other's backs, there's no way we can reach the green food."

Cera snorted. "There's no way I'm standing underneath a longneck while you guys gorge yourselves!"

Littlefoot opened his mouth to retort but stopped himself short. There was no use in starting a fight.

Ever since she had joined up with them, Cera had been nothing but spoiled, ungrateful and nasty towards him and the others, but it only got worse whenever Whiplash voiced his opinions about which direction they should go. Littlefoot had only ever asked Whiplash on whether it was safe to keep going because his height granted him a better view of their surroundings, plus his large appearance kept most sharp-teeth at bay, and he had the most experience surviving out here out of all six of them.

When he was smaller, he thought he had only caught a glimpse of a pair or two of sharp-teeth, but they kept their distance because of their herd's enormous size and numbers.

Of course, what did Cera know that he didn't?

A shadow loomed over them and they all stopped and turned to see Whiplash's form blocking out the fierce heat of the Bright Circle. He stood as taller than he ever had before, but he didn't seem to be paying it any heed. He approached the tallest tree and grabbed a large mouthful of green food and branches. He spread his feet wide, rooting them to the ground to steady himself, and began to shake his neck and head from side to side.

As the force of his shaking increased, the tree let go of its precious resources and green food of many shapes fell like sky water.

Ducky and Petrie leapt with joy on Spike's back while the little spiketail ran around happily, snapping up whatever he could catch as they fell.

Cera laid down with her head on her paws, her eyes stared icily up at Whiplash, but not saying anything, her pride now dented again.

The longneck had done it again, showing his uses while she sat on the sidelines like as if she didn't matter.

Littlefoot grabbed a small mouthful of Whiplash's gift and chewed happily, smiling up at him.

Whiplash smiled back in return and let go of the tree that was now completely barren. He quietly made himself over to another that was still green and stripped what he could. He chewed, enjoying the sweet taste of peace and safety for the first time in a long time. He stopped as memories came back to him, but he shook them off, wanting to forget the hurt that he had felt.

When Littlefoot saw his face fall, he made to approach, but stopped when he heard a shout of surprise.

He whirled around in time to see Cera charge directly for Spike, who had been eating from a large pile of green food. The moment she made for him, he bolted away until she stopped at the pile, snorting and huffing puffs of hot air from her nostrils. She pawed at the ground, dust billowing, and shook her single horn threateningly.

"Cera, what are you doing?!" Littlefoot demanded, running up to her.

"I'm hungry," Cera snapped, facing him with an angry look. "This is my pile, longneck, and no spiketail is getting their slobber all over it. Go get your own!"

Littlefoot lowered himself slightly, bracing for a fight. "But you didn't have to chase Spike away," he protested. "There's plenty of green food for everybody."

She shook her head and took a large step forward, shoving her horn beneath his neck. "You wanna say that to my face, LONGNECK!" she growled. "You going to fight me for it?"

CRACK!

All of the children looked up, startled by the loud noise. All they saw was Whiplash staring coldly down at them and his tail raised above his hips, the tip curled outward. Littlefoot had never seen so much rage in his expression before. His brows were squinting, his lips pulled back to show his teeth, and his nostrils quivered with each breath he took.

It was frightening to see the brother he knew so full of anger and pain. He thought he knew him, and it scared him to think that he still didn't.

"Enough!" Whiplash bellowed when Cera tried again, he stamped a forepaw with enough force to cause a tiny earthshake. "You will stop this infighting, or Sauro help me, I will force you to."

He snapped his head in the direction of the threehorn, who stared stubbornly at him, but then cowered when she saw the fire in his yellow eyes. "I don't know what your problem is, threehorn," he growled, "but you will take that anger out on me! Not on Spike, not Petrie, or Ducky, and most certainly NOT my little brother."

In an act of defiance, Cera stood on the tips of her toes and shoved her horn against his nose. "You're not the boss of me, longneck," she snapped, forgetting her fear, "I don't need you leading me to some Great Valley that possibly doesn't exist, and I don't need YOU protecting me! I looked after myself before you came along acting like you know everything! Don't act like you know me! You haven't lost anyone! You even have a herd while some of us don't!"

"Cera!" Littlefoot roared.

But it was too late.

The fire inside Whiplash's eyes died, replacing itself with pain all in the span of a single second.

He lowered his head in defeat, but when he spoke again, his voice was filled with pain and sorrow.

"You're right, Cera," the large longneck whispered, his tone bitter ice, "I haven't lost anyone, no one that I can remember."

He turned to leave, his tail now dragging uselessly on the ground, and his long neck once carried with pride now hung like the dead vines from the lifeless forest.

"If you believe that you are better off without my protection, threehorn" -he seemed to spit the word- "then so be it."

"Whiplash, come back!" Littlefoot called for him, tears welling up in his eyes.

But Whiplash ignored his pleas and continued down the path through the green forest, and not once did he look back.

Immediately, Littlefoot whirled upon Cera and glared ice-cold daggers at her. At the change of attitude from the longneck, Cera flinched. "You don't get it do you?" he growled. "You don't know what Whiplash has been through before he met my herd, before he met you and the rest of us!"

"Then I guess you don't know him like you think you do," Cera huffed.

Littlefoot ignored her jab. "You hurt him deeply, Cera," he went on, "in more ways than one."

Spike approached cautiously as Ducky hopped off his back and Petrie climbed on top of Littlefoot's head.

"He is hurt very badly," Ducky agreed, placing a hand upon her chest where her heart was.

"Whiplash only told me himself that he lost his mother before he even hatched," Littlefoot explained. "I never asked why he came to my mother's herd out of respect for what was extremely private to him. She only said he came a full Night Circle ago before I hatched. She said she saved my life when an egg stealer tried to take me away to be eaten."

Ducky covered her mouth to stop a gasp of horror from escaping her mouth. Cera's face remained neutral, but she was listening intensively.

"You were there, Cera," Littlefoot continued, "when Whiplash saved us from Sharptooth. You saw him fall. He probably feels terrible that mother had to face Sharptooth alone. If you hadn't distracted him when he knocked Sharptooth down, he wouldn't have fallen and got those bad scratches on his side."

"You mean, those scratches on his side were from Sharptooth?" Petrie whispered, trembling.

Littlefoot nodded and he looked over at them all. "Whiplash isn't just protecting us because we're alone and have nowhere to go except to the Great Valley," he sighed, "he's doing it because he wants to. I've known him my entire life, but he's been around ten cold times longer. He's seen things we haven't, we need him not for his experience, not because he's my brother, he's OUR brother. A herd means family, and no herd member gets left behind."

Ducky, Petrie and Spike nodded in agreement, but Cera remained quiet, her expression almost unreadable.

"Now then," Littlefoot finished, "we're going to find our big brother and we're going to apologise and ask for a story he promised us."

"Oh, that right, he promise he tell us about Sauro," Petrie yelped, flapping his wings frantically.

"Come on!" Littlefoot urged and he grabbed his treestar in his mouth, while Spike grabbed a large pile of green food in his mouth and bolted after him. Cera remained standing where she was for a moment, seemingly thinking about following before she grunted something and took after them.

They didn't have to go very far. Whiplash's foot marks led them to the outer edge of the forest, and they spotted his familiar form curled tightly near a fresh pool of calm, clear water. The Night Circle was beginning its rise and it cast its cool reflection in the pool. It's soft white rays cold, but gentle, and it illuminated Whiplash's greyish brown skin.

"Whiplash?" Littlefoot called quietly, approaching slowly.

At the sound of his footsteps, Whiplash lifted his head and whipped around to face him.

He flinched when he saw his older brother's calm face brim with tear streaks. For the first time in his life, Littlefoot was seeing the rock that was blocking Whiplash's emotions shattering to tiny pieces. He'd never seen him express many emotions apart from small smiles or his rage at Cera's father for threatening to harm him. But when the fight start, the rock had completely crumbled, leaving him open for all to see.

Cautiously, Littlefoot crawled forward and curled up between Whiplash's forelegs, surprising him.

The others came forward and curled up against his side, but Cera remained where she was, her eyes looking at nothing but the ground.

"I'm sorry we upset you, Whiplash," Littlefoot said sincerely. "I know you don't like talking about personal things, but its okay to talk. If you want to, we're here to listen."

"Yes, we are sorry we did not say anything," Ducky spoke up. "But Spike is grateful you helpeded him, yup, yup, yup."

Spike nodded and gave Whiplash a big slobbery lick on his scarred cheek.

"Me wanted to help too," Petrie added, "but… too scared."

Whiplash nodded in understanding, a small grateful smile pulling at the corners of his lips.

Five pairs of eyes fell upon the last remaining member who hadn't spoken since they came to find Whiplash. The young threehorn had still been staring at the ground, uncomfortably pawing at it.

"Don't you have something to say, Cera?" Littlefoot asked with a frown.

Cera looked at Whiplash for a moment, and then dropped her gaze shamefully.

"I'm sorry for what I said before," she said simply.

"It's alright," Whiplash replied tentatively.

The large longneck didn't want to push the matter any further, but Cera didn't sound very sincere. It was there, but very subtle. She sounded rather embarrassed, if anything.

"Plus, you promised us a story about Sauro," Littlefoot spoke up, changing the subject.

Whiplash's eyes widened in realisation. "Stars, I forgot." He bowed his head and gestured to Cera to come and sit with them. Humbly, she climbed over his tail nestled beside Spike, although she refrained from touching him completely. "Get comfortable, it's quite a story. Well, actually, it's more of a story about how a hero tricked Sauro, rather than a creation story."

Littlefoot beamed up at Whiplash as he curled his tail around them and gazed up at the Night Circle, his yellow eyes glowing in its soft light. He cleared his throat and began his tale.

"Sauro had just finished making the world as we know it today and decided to rest. Unfortunately, there was no life around to eat the plants. The Night Circle did not want to be outdone by the Bright Circle, who had made the plants so he picked up a pawful of dirt and blew on it, creating life that would eat the plants and grow from it. The Bright Circle did not like how her trees were being eaten, so, to counter this, she sang, and the trees grew in height to hear her beautiful voice.

"When the leaf eaters saw what was happening, they wailed in sadness and fear. They relied on the trees to feed them and to grow. Without food, they would slowly die unless the creatures that had separated themselves after developing a taste for meat would eat them first.

"It was eventually decided that someone should seek out Sauro for help. A young short-neck named Sky Gazer, who enjoyed looking up at the stars, the Night Circle and the Bright Circle whenever he could, volunteered to see what he could do. He ventured out the next day and travelled across a large forest, fought against bloodthirsty sharp-teeth, and braved the vast sand plains, until he arrived at Sauro's sleeping spot, a large mountain that held mazes of caverns.

"Now Sky Gazer was a very clever fellow, and he knew that Sauro was very powerful and did not like to be woken up unless it was very important. So, he waited for two days and two nights, never eating and never drinking. On the third day, after witnessing the Night Circle lose his race with his sister again, Sky Gazer cautiously strolled the caverns, relying on his sense of smell to find the Great One.

"Once or twice, he got lost, but the sounds of Sauro's snoring and thoughts of starving, fearful leaf eaters made him keep going. He stopped when he found a chamber and Sauro sleeping inside. He took a deep breath and called out to him a loud voice, 'O' Great One, I seek you for it is important!'

"Sauro woke up with a start, surprised. He soon thought it was his son speaking to him, so he replied gently, 'What do you need, my son?'

"'My sister sang too much and my leaf eaters are starving,' Sky Gazer called. 'I don't know what to do to assist them and I am tired from chasing her across the Sky.'

"Sauro grew concerned and immediately agreed that the problem should be solved. 'There is a bush in the middle of the meadow near my cave,' he explained, 'eat its green food and you will be given the knowledge to save them. But be warned, eat the white food and you will become very tired.'

"Sky Gazer was cautious, but he did as instructed and found the bush that Sauro had described. The green food smelt funny and the white petals smelt very fragrant and made him quite sleepy when he touched it with his tongue. He ate the green food, but it tasted quite bad. The moment he swallowed, he was filled with knowledge!

"Unfortunately, Sauro figured out he had been tricked and he was not at all pleased, but he had to give Sky Gazer credit for being smart.

"Now that Sky Gazer knew what to do, he raced back to the others as fast as he could, but not before he heard Sauro's voice echo from inside the caves: 'You tricked me with your cavern voice, Sky Gazer, but your fate will be sealed the moment you speak your knowledge. While your kind will feast on the trees, only you will rely on stones to help you eat them.'

"But Sky Gazer didn't care, and when he returned and explained what Sauro had told him, the leaf eaters became skeptical. According to the knowledge, they were to sing to the Night Circle when he was in the middle of chasing his sister. But eventually, Sky Gazer was able to convince them and they sang all night long to the Night Circle.

"The Night Circle heard their pleasant song and cast his cool rays upon them, shining and pulling them up. Their necks began to stretch until they could finally eat from the tops of the trees. While those that didn't sing ate the plants on the ground, thinking themselves as humble and satisfied with life.

"Sky Gazer felt accomplished, but he had to resort to what Sauro had warned him about. He had to swallow stones to help him chew his green food, but it made life difficult for him. Nevertheless, his kind enjoyed theirs, unaware of the suffering their saviour was going through."

Whiplash opened his eyes and stared softly down at the children. All of them were staring up at him in awe and wonder.

"Wow," Littlefoot breathed.

Whiplash smiled thankfully, and he bowed his head in acknowledgement.

Ducky clapped. "It was a good story, it was, it was."

Spike nodded in agreement.

Whiplash's face fell somewhat and Littlefoot placed a paw on one of his forelegs, he gazed down, sucking in a deep breath. "I think it's time I told you some of my past," he said softly, and they became tense with concern. "Keep in mind that there are some details I wish to not speak of, for they are far too painful."

They nodded respectfully.

Whiplash gazed up at the Night Circle, mentally praying to Sauro to give him inner strength. "I was alone," he began, "because my herd had exiled me for something that was beyond my control."

There was a small gasp, but no one said anything as he continued.

"The Council of Elders thought I had killed someone important, but its not entirely true. I just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. I was charged with exile." His eyes soon burned with anger and he slapped his tail on the ground. "They cast me out despite how it was obvious that I didn't. I would never harm someone who stood up for me after taking me and my father into their herd!"

"What happen to your father?" Petrie asked.

"I'm not sure," Whiplash replied, his gaze now fighting back tears of pain. "All I remember was saying goodbye to him and… some others and then leaving that very same night."

Spike came up and licked his cheek sympathetically, and he nodded gratefully.

"I swore I would never go back to the herd for as long as I'm alive and breathing," he continued. "Not unless I was given a good enough reason to do so. I asked a friend to keep an eye on things back home. I was alone for five cold times, travelling and relying on my father's training to keep me alive. It wasn't until I met your herd, Littlefoot, that I found a reason to live on. For five more cold times, I got to enjoy what it felt like to be in a herd that truly cared about one another rather than relying on a hierarchy. I had a purpose again."

Littlefoot pressed deeper into him and Whiplash lowered his head to nuzzle him affectionately.

"Do you have anyone, besides your father, waiting for you back home?" Cera asked quietly.

The question baffled him for a moment, but he recovered and nodded. "Yes, three of them actually. Loca and Locus are two very dear friends of mine, but…" His gaze soon became soft filled with love. "The other is… she's… something truly special. She's kind, she's very compassionate. I think you would've all liked her if you met her. There's no one else I'd trust with my life with than her."

"What's her name?" Littlefoot asked.

The love behind Whiplash's eyes became more noticeable as he recalled images of her fondly. "Skyback."

"What does she look like?" Ducky questioned.

Whiplash closed his eyes for a moment. "She has this lovely pale blue stripe that goes along her head, back and tail, which gave her name. Her skin is the richest brown, darker than mine, and her eyes are a calm blue that always seems to tell you that you can trust her."

Cera rolled her eyes. "Oh brother," she said sarcastically.

Whiplash's eyes became downcast again. "I just wish I could have told her how I felt," he admitted.

"I'm sure you will someday, Whiplash," Littlefoot reassured him, only to yawn.

Without saying a word, Whiplash gently curled his tail around them.

Grateful, Littlefoot yawned deeply and fell to sleep with the others.

Whiplash watched them a moment longer and he turned his yellow eyes up to the starry night sky, a large one twinkling brightly some distance from the Night Circle. If his mother was looking down right now, he would imagine she was feeling proud of him for taking another step closer toward his goal.