I am so, so, so sorry for taking so long with posting chapters to any of my stories. I'm so, so sorry! Trying to stave off this bloody pandemic and hoping to god that when it was all over I would celebrate with an enormous posting of every story I've been working on while waiting things to calm down. Unfortunately its still raging, but it felt now as good as time as any to update at least one of them. This chapter has been sitting for a long time waiting to be posted, and I'm keeping to my theme of adding a chapter ahead of what I've already done. The chapter after this one is done, but will be posted when the chapter after is done.

Again I am so sorry for my two or three year long waiting of posting stories. One has to focus on getting money into pockets and food on the table.

Brothers Under the Bright Circle

Chapter 11

One Insult Too Many

The small herd of six finally reached the bottom of the hill, the Bright Circle still rising in the sky, but their pacing had been slowed thanks to Whiplash's injury, but he reassured them that he was fine.

Unfortunately for him, it began to cost them precious time, time that they couldn't afford to waste.

They had to put as much distance between themselves and Sharptooth and Whiplash was uncertain how long the beast would remain unconscious for.

"Whiplash, you need to rest," Littlefoot protested when he slipped on his injury. "You don't look so good."

"Littlefoot, I'm fine," Whiplash said stubbornly. "I'm more worried about Sharptooth than anything else."

Finally, Littlefoot had reached the limit of his patience and he leapt on the rock that was high enough for him to look his older brother in the eye, much to Whiplash's surprise. He glared, only for Whiplash to glare back, but he stood his ground bravely.

"Look, Whiplash, you're hurt, your leg isn't going to get any better if you keep moving like this," Littlefoot said, pointing a paw at the now pulsing blood from Whiplash's leg. "We're stopping right here, right now. What if we run into Sharptooth again and your leg is still hurt? You could end up like…" He stopped, his breath hitching.

The moment the las sentence left Littlefoot's mouth, Whiplash's expression softened, and he hung his head dejectedly.

"I'm sorry, Littlefoot," he sighed. "I was only trying to think about your safety and not my own health. You're right, I've been pushing myself too hard."

Tentatively, he laid down, now realising just how exhausted he was and how much his leg hurt.

"If anything happens," he said firmly, "wake me up as soon as possible. The last thing I need is a sharp-tooth sneaking up behind us and feasting on our flesh while I'm still sleeping."

Littlefoot smiled and nodded. "Don't worry, I will. Now rest."

For the entire morning through to when Bright Circle was reaching its peak in the sky, Whiplash slept, and not once did he stir nor did he even open his eyes. This worried Littlefoot. It was not like him to sleep this long, but as the day wore on, Littlefoot thought he heard deep, gasping breaths. At first he didn't think it was a cause for concern, so he and the others gave Whiplash his space to rest and recover from the ordeal, but it was highly unusual.

They should have been at the top of that mountain behind the longneck shaped rock long ago.

"Littlefoot, stop walking around like that," Cera snorted impatiently, "you're making me feel sick."

He turned to glare at her but stopped shortly when he saw that she and the others had unhappy looks.

He knew why.

They hadn't eaten or drank throughout the entire day, all of them just waiting for Whiplash to wake up so they could move on.

He sighed.

"Sorry," he apologised, "I'm just so worried about Whiplash. He hasn't moved since…"

"Maybe you should go check on him," Ducky nodded, pointing in Whiplash's direction. "He does not sound good, oh no, no."

Littlefoot glanced from his friends over to Whiplash and then back at them again.

Perhaps Ducky was right.

"Alright, wait here," he said firmly and he padded over to the head of his still sleeping brother.

When he was close enough, he was surprised to see Whiplash's face was not showing signs of peace like any normal sleeper would. Instead, his face was contorted and twisted, his lips pulled back into a snarl. This wasn't what he had been expecting.

Whiplash was in pain.

A lot of pain.

Littlefoot's eyes shot over to Whiplash's injured leg and he felt his blood run cold.

The bite mark that Sharptooth had left behind had left giant holes where his teeth had been. The leg was twice the size it normally was, and it had changed to an ugly blue and red colour. The bleeding had worsened throughout the day, having formed a pool of it and then having dried in the heat of the Bright Circle.

Littlefoot paced up and down, trying to think of what he could do.

"What is wrong, Littlefoot?"

He glanced up as the others ran over to see what the matter was.

"It's Whiplash," he said worriedly. "He's not getting any better, he's getting worse."

They all looked at the leg and immediately backed away.

"That leg not good," Petrie gasped.

Cera's eyes rested on Littlefoot neutrally, her eyes watching him. What was he even thinking?

Littlefoot continued to pace, trying to recall anything his grandparents and mother had taught him about healing flowers, flowers that could help treat injuries like this or to help lessen pain.

He stopped as the memory came back to him.

"Mother, it hurts!"

"I know it hurts, my son, but I cannot help you if you keep squirming like that."

"Mother, I found it, the healing flower that you wanted."

"Ah, thank you, Whiplash. I'm surprised you managed to find one."

"Wasn't very easy with the way this land is. Hopefully we find something soon."

"We will, Whiplash. We will. Have patience."

"What is that, Mother?"

"A healing flower, it will help stop the bleeding, but it will sting."

"Mother, I don't want anymore pain, it hurts!"

"Hush now, it will not hurt anymore once it makes contact, I promise."

"Ow!"

"Calm, Littlefoot, calm."

He opened his eyes, now recalling the healing flower that had helped him once before.

"I know what we have to do," he said. "There's a healing flower that can treat this, but…"

"But?" Cera asked with a frown.

"I don't know where I can find one…"

The hope dashed away from the other children's expressions. Cera insisted they just leave Whiplash to rest and hope for the best. While Littlefoot agreed with her, secretly he was heartbroken. Without that flower, Whiplash probably wouldn't even make it. Sharptooth's bite had done a great deal of damage, and it would take some miracle for him to even recover without it.

They decided to leave him be for now, and as the Bright Circle began to set behind the mountains, Whiplash's breathing had not got any better.

Littlefoot huddled with the others near a rock that sheltered them from any incoming weather, but it remained surprisingly calm with not a sky puffy in sight, much to Littlefoot's relief. If the sky water fell, Whiplash's health would falter even further.

He could only hope and pray to Sauro that some miracle would happen to help Whiplash get well.

"Littlefoot," Cera's voice cut through his thoughts and he jolted.

"What?" he asked, glancing around nervously.

"Shh," Ducky hissed and pointed in the direction of Whiplash.

Despite the Bright Circle still fading, there was still enough light to make out an oddly familiar shape.

A two-legged shape.

A shape with two legs, three claws on each hand, and sharp teeth in its enormous jaws, its one orange eye seemed to gleam in the gloom beneath a pair of oddly shaped crests as it leered over Whiplash's trembling form.

At first Littlefoot thought it was Sharptooth and almost freaked out were it not for the fact that this sharp-tooth was much smaller with those crests sticking out above its eyes. He couldn't make out its colour, but he could only make out the dark red stripe running along its head, neck, back, and tail.

Just what kind of a sharp-tooth was this?

He quickly remembered to hold his breath and remain still.

The creature leaned over Whiplash's form and it growled something, its jaws parting slightly to reveal teeth that were much differently shaped than Sharptooth's. They were much smaller, but wider and more serrated. Was it about to make a free meal out of Whiplash while he was still weakened?

Then, much to Littlefoot's surprise, the Two-Crested Sharptooth glanced over at Whiplash's leg and pressed its snout against the tender flesh. Whiplash visibly flinched.

And then the sharp-tooth turned and walked away into the fading light without a backward glance over its shoulder.

Littlefoot blinked, confused.

"Wait here," he said cautiously to the others and he nervously approached Whiplash.

When he was close enough, he could only barely stop himself from gasping.

Wrapped tightly around Whiplash's leg was the very flower that he had been struggling to recall.

At first he thought that it had just randomly appeared and that he had done it himself while he had been sleeping, but he quickly dismissed it as just nonsense. The only logical explanation was that… no that couldn't be right. Why would a sharp-tooth even bother to help Whiplash in the first place? It didn't make any sense at all. But how else did the healing flower get there?

His mind raced with even more questions.

He stood firmly, now noticing that Whiplash's pained expressions had changed to somewhat peaceful.

At least those flowers should help for the time being. He seemed to be alright for now.

Littlefoot made it his sworn duty to not tell the others, least he caused them to panic after what Sharptooth had been putting them through.

"I'll talk to Whiplash about it later," he said to himself and he gently pressed his snout against Whiplash's unscarred cheek. He then turned and walked back to the others, explaining to them only half the truth, that what they had seen had been a sharp-tooth but it had lost interest in Whiplash as something not worth eating because of how dangerous he looked if it so much as tried to make a meal out of him.

Ducky, Petrie and Spike were relieved, but Cera didn't seem as easily convinced, however she said nothing, remaining calm but with a continuous neutral expression in an attempt to hide her thoughts. The last thing Littlefoot wanted was another disagreement with her, and he was secretly glad that she didn't argue or make a snide comment.

Maybe Whiplash saving her life had humbled her?

At least Littlefoot hoped so.

Whiplash awoke when the Bright Circle returned to the sky, feeling refreshed and less in pain.

But his rest had not come with peaceful sleep stories.

Instead, he had been haunted by pictures of Sharptooth torturing him with his bloodthirsty teeth tearing at his flesh while Littlefoot would look on helplessly until it eventually replaced itself with memories he wanted nothing more than to forget. Haunting memories of his rough childhood plagued him constantly throughout his life. The very one who gave him the scar on his cheek taunted him, bullied him, and even hurt him in more ways than he could think of.

"You really need to stop getting into my head," he muttered to himself, trying to push the image of the longneck with the pinched look on his face and a scar on his shoulder. "You shouldn't even be following me…"

Then he recalled a voice he had heard in his fevered sleep stories, a voice that had growled as though it had been right next to his ear, whispering something until he thought for certain he could translate it to no more than a few words.

"You need to live, longneck, not for my sake, but for theirs as well. Do not think I owe you this for saving my life once in the past. If my master finds out what I did for you… well, it doesn't matter. I'm sure you'll work it out."

Frowning, he turned his head and saw a familiar white flower wrapped neatly around his leg.

"A healing flower?" he whispered.

"Whiplash, you're awake!"

Littlefoot's voice cut through his thoughts and he turned sharply to see him, Cera, Ducky, Petrie and Spike running straight toward him, their eyes filled with relief and comfort at the sight of him.

"Uh, yes," Whiplash nodded, composing himself. "I'm sorry I worried you all." He gestured to the flower on his leg with his snout. "Did you find this?"

Littlefoot nervously pawed at the ground, trying to find the right words to describe what had happened. Sighing he turned to the others. "Can I talk to him alone for a moment?"

Cera tilted her head, but nodded and ushered the others away out of earshot.

Once they were gone, Littlefoot took in a deep breath. "I don't know where they came from," he began. "I was going to find them myself, but truth be told I didn't know where the flower grew from. You slept all day yesterday, you were getting worse. Your leg was bigger than it normally was, it was even a weird colour and constantly bleeding. I thought you weren't going to make it."

Whiplash remained silent, waiting for him to continue.

"Then when the Bright Circle was going behind the mountain, we saw… something… it was… a sharp-tooth, but it wasn't Sharptooth himself, it was a lot smaller than him and had these weird ridges on top of its eyes. Well… it actually had one eye. It was leaning over you and growling something, then it just turned and walked away as if you weren't much of a meal to begin with."

Whiplash frowned.

"Did you see what colour it was?" he asked suspiciously.

"It was hard to make out," Littlefoot explained hastily, "but I thought I saw some red on its back."

"One-Eye…" Whiplash whispered.

"What?" Littlefoot asked.

"It's nothing," Whiplash reassured him. "Continue."

"When I approached you, you had the flower wrapped around your leg and then you were fine."

"I see," Whiplash said, raising his head. "It might be best that we do not tell the others. The last thing we need is a cause for panic and Cera going on some rampage just to show she isn't afraid."

Littlefoot nodded in agreement.

Slowly, Whiplash stood up and stretched himself, but he remained cautious over his injured leg, but he was surprised at how little it hurt thanks to the healing flower. When Littlefoot had described the Two-Crested Sharptooth's appearance, he had made it his job to keep quiet. He hadn't heard from that creature in a long time.

The last time he had seen One-Eye was when they had faced each other in battle with the both of them almost getting killed and then… Well, he'd rather keep the rest of it as history. As far as he knew, that sharp-tooth hadn't been on his mind for a long time until now. Why did One-Eye even help him? To make it even? And who the hell was this master he spoke of?

He shook his head to clear his mind.

"We should get going," he said when he slightly limped over to the others. "We've got a long climb ahead of us."

They continued, passing the longneck shaped rock and making their way towards the steep cliff. Unfortunately, the climbing was slowed thanks to Whiplash's leg, but he assured them that it was no longer a problem to his well-being. Littlefoot wasn't so sure, but he trusted his larger brother's judgement. Up the in the sky above them, strange black specks fell gently down from oddly greyish black sky puffies, sky puffies that smelt like fire and smoke.

Whiplash couldn't explain it, but the black specks and smoke smelling air filled him with a sense of dread, that something bad was going to happen soon.

The sound of gasping and wheezing drew him back to reality and he glanced down to see the children were exhausted from the climb, even Littlefoot, the leanest of them all, was tired, but he was masking it well with determination. They had been climbing since the Bright Circle had risen and now it was nearing its peak.

Spike collapsed heavily on a flat rock with Ducky leaning against his side to catch her breath, already.

Littlefoot glanced over his shoulder, his chest heaving as well. "Come on, get up," he urged.

Spike tried, pushing himself up, only to fall back down.

Cera glanced up when Littlefoot's voice reached her ears, irritation written all over her face, but she kept climbing.

"Littlefoot."

He looked up when he saw Whiplash looking down at him, and he lowered his head until it was level with the ground. "Get on," he said.

"But your leg," Littlefoot protested with worry, inclining his head.

"It's not a problem for me," Whiplash insisted stubbornly. He turned to the others and their faces lit up when he tilted his head downward. "Neither of you are that heavy for me anyway. Now get on."

They didn't need to be told twice and Spike eagerly climbed up onto Whiplash's head, he didn't even notice that one of his feet poked him in the eye nor did he see him flinch. Spike was far too relieved to even notice anything. Littlefoot followed close behind him with an exhausted Petrie perched on his head. Together the two settled comfortably between Whiplash's shoulders. Whiplash raised his head, but then stopped short when he noticed Cera further behind him. He sighed and stretched his neck out to her until his snout was merely inches away from her face.

"I can take care of myself," she snorted, looking away.

"I just want to help," Whiplash said.

Cera looked like she was about to retort something, but then stopped short when she saw Littlefoot and the others looking down at her. Just like them she was losing the strength to keep on climbing and didn't feel she could keep on going any further until Whiplash had offered them a ride the rest of the way. However, her pride stopped her once again from getting assistance when she needed it, and here she was trying to be the tough one again while Whiplash took the brunt of the pain.

Steeling herself, she hesitantly raised both her paws until they were planted on his snout, and not once did Whiplash make a snarky remark or say 'I told you so'. She pushed up, careful to avoid putting her feet in his eyes, and stood on his head. She wobbled when she felt the muscles in his neck pull back until he held his head high. She bunched her legs in preparation for falling, but, to her surprise, she didn't, and she found herself sliding down his long neck until she was sitting between his shoulders between Littlefoot and Spike.

Littlefoot looked up at the larger longneck and all he saw was a faint smile forming on his muzzle.

Whiplash then pushed onward, letting his feet do the work for him despite his own exhaustion and his sore leg, but it didn't hurt as much thanks to the healing flower. But he didn't show the pain on his face, no matter how much it hurt him.

He climbed higher while the children clung tightly to his skin with their paws, but it felt like nothing.

The further he climbed up the steep slope, the more his breathing began to increase. Littlefoot frowned. It couldn't be the climb that was tiring Whiplash, and yet the wound on his leg didn't seem to be too much of a problem, so why was he sounding like he had ran a long time?

Before he could ask if Whiplash wanted to stop, a stone came loose beneath the large longneck's injured leg, he cried out in surprise and slid back down the hill, dust and dirt kicking up in his weight.

Whiplash felt the children dislodge from his back, stones scattering in his wake as he continued to fall.

"Whiplash!" Ducky cried, pointing behind him. "Watch out!"

Whiplash's head sharply turned his head over his shoulder and his heart froze in his chest.

Meeting his behind head on was a large boulder jutting out from the cliff's face.

He narrowed his eyes and tensed his muscles, knowing there was nothing he could do but hope for the best.

He braced his hind legs, muscles tense beneath his skin. Every muscle in his body screamed with protest and pain, his forelegs aching from the climb, and now he had no choice but to ensure he took the brunt of the force.

He held his breath, bracing himself.

Pain exploded throughout his entire rear and tail, his back legs shuddered with the great force of flesh meeting rock. He gritted his teeth, struggling to hold in a scream of agony as it shot up his body, pain pulsing through his skin.

The moment it all passed, his mind cleared somewhat but his body ached with the shock of the collision.

"Whiplash, are you alright?"

He opened his eyes and looked up just in time to see Littlefoot and the others sliding down the slope. He nodded and forced himself to smile, trying to reassure them despite the throbbing pain in his tail and rear. He struggled to will himself to stand again, his injured leg now bleeding again, but he pushed onward, trying to steady himself.

"It's nothing," he said out loud, more to himself than to Littlefoot. I must keep going, for their sake.

He slowly placed his hurt leg down, testing its support.

"I'm alright," he told them, "we have to keep going." He lifted his neck and inclined his snout up the mountain. "The sooner we can move, the more distance we can gain between us and Sharptooth."

Littlefoot frowned, his eyes resting on Whiplash's leg once more, the blood dripped slowly down and pooled on the rocks. He knew Whiplash was strong, but even he could tell that he was in a lot of pain and trying to hide it to stop him from worrying. The healing flower could only do so much to help.

He remembered how Whiplash had been punctured in the leg by a sharp stone a couple of cold times ago. He'd said to Grandma and Grandpa he was fine to try and not scare Littlefoot, but it only worked for so long.

But he knew better than to pressure Whiplash. He was being stubborn for a reason, and Littlefoot was sure that he would rest once they were safe.

"We'll walk in your shadow," he offered Whiplash.

Whiplash gazed down at him, a brow lifting quizzically.

"He right," Petrie nodded.

Cera snorted.

The larger longneck's muscles loosened, and his head drooped, a faint smile curling his lips with relief. "Thank you, Littlefoot," he said gratefully. "Just stay close and I'll try not to step on you."

Littlefoot smiled back and nodded.

They continued onward, with Whiplash trying his absolute best to keep his pace even with his much smaller companions, and them walking in his shadow to shield themselves from the blistering heat of the Bright Circle. Exhaustion began to eat away at them, sapping their strength… and their tempers.

Cera fared no better, and with each rock she climbed, her anger began to grow. She was getting sick and tired of being hot, bothered, hungry and thirsty. She glared icily up at the backs of Littlefoot and Whiplash. Despite everything they had been through, she was beginning to reach her breaking point.

If there was no Great Valley waiting for them at the top of the mountain like Littlefoot claimed, she would be more than happy to prove a point.

Soon the Bright Circle began its descent and the small herd of six neared the top.

Hope swelled in Littlefoot's chest. He was sure that the Great Valley was close, he didn't know how he knew, but maybe the advice his mother had told him long ago was making sense now. He held his breath, forcing himself to take another step until he felt flatness beneath him. He bunched his muscles together and pushed his back feet up, the aching pain in his legs screaming for rest.

He felt himself get shoved further up and he glanced back to see Spike behind him.

Spike was gasping for breath, but he didn't seem to let it stop him as he helped push Littlefoot up.

Ducky and Petrie were right behind them as they scurried up the rocks, both leaning against each other to catch their breath. Cera followed closely behind, shaking her frill to clear the sand from her eyes, but made no comment as Whiplash limped into view. The large longneck stretched his neck as far as it could go over the edge of the cliff, they stood upon to peer through the howling sand, his eyes squinting.

Soon the sandstorm began to cease and the hopes of the six were immediately dashed at what lay at the bottom of the cliff.

There was nothing below but another barren ravine.

"This is your Great Valley?!" Cera shouted angrily, her voice echoing through the ravine. "You're crazy!"

Everyone turned to look at the threehorn.

"I'm leaving!" she snapped and turned away, tail raised high.

Littlefoot's eyes widened.

"Cera," Whiplash protested softly, but his tone carried a hint of a warning, "we have to keep following the Bright Circle."

She shot him a glare over her shoulder. "I'm taking the easy way for once," she huffed, thrusting her horn up in the air and she continued to walk away.

Unfortunately, Littlefoot wasn't going to take it lying down. Having had enough of her attitude, he charged ahead of her and forced her to stop in her tracks, his eyes narrowing as she halted in her tracks.

"But it's the wrong way!" he said harshly, getting in her face.

"Who says?" she mocked.

"My mother!" Littlefoot shot back.

"Then SHE was a stupid longneck, too," Cera snobbishly replied.

Whiplash felt his heart stop in his chest. The threehorn had said the wrong kind of words and he felt inclined to put her in her place about watching her words, but before he could Littlefoot immediately leapt in front of her again, his eyes burning with rage.

"Take that back!" he ordered.

"Never!" Cera refused.

His body trembled violently as all thoughts of trying to solve the situation with words went out of his mind. "TAKE IT BACK!" he roared, rearing up on his hind legs and forcing her to step back.

"NO!" Cera shouted back.

That was the last straw for Littlefoot, and before Whiplash knew what was happening, Littlefoot, fuelled with rage and anger, rammed his head into Cera, knocking the wind out of her, and the two of them went careening over the cliff!

Whiplash tried to reach out to grab them both, but it all happened so fast that the two of them were beyond his reach. He could only watch helplessly as they fell out of sight. "Littlefoot! Cera!" he cried as the two younglings tumbled down the steep slope.

"Spike!" Ducky's voice cut through his mind.

He whipped his head around in time to see Ducky and Petrie trying to prevent Spike from following them. Quickly he grabbed Spike by the tail and the two little ones were forced to grab his legs as well. However, in doing so, he had created a chain reaction and his heavy weight caused the cliff to crumble and he found himself sliding down to slope as well. He tightened his hold on Spike's tail, ignoring his discomforted groaning. He was surprised they eventually made it down safely with only a few scratches and bruises to add to his growing collection of bodily injuries. But there was no time to dwell on his good fortune because right before them a fight was unfolding.

Whiplash gently placed Spike on the ground behind a rock, looking up in time to see Cera charge furiously for Littlefoot, her eyes blazing hotly, and rammed into his side.

He stumbled back before getting up and lunging towards her again, his teeth seizing her leg.

"LET GO OF MY LEG!" Cera cried, making her even angrier, and rammed her horn into his side again.

He yelped with pain, forcing him to let go and his back bodily slammed against a rock. He got back up once more and the two butted heads together, pushing and shoving against one another, their eyes glaring into the other's.

Ducky's eyes began to water at the sight that was happening in front of her. Petrie trembled and covered his eyes with his claws, while Spike buried his head beneath the sand, terrified.

Whiplash's usually calm demeanour began to chip away, and his body shook with rarely seen anger, his legs and tail tense.

Cera's feet scraped the sand violently and she pushed, harder than what Littlefoot could handle, and she sent him flying into another rock, the boulder, unable to handle the stress of the young longneck's weight, crumbled to pieces. She snorted at his pathetic sight and turned to walk away with a huff and her tail high in the air.

Tears of anger and frustration welled up in Littlefoot's eyes and he got back on his feet. He charged at her once more, his shoulder catching her in the tail and she cried out with surprise and fell to the ground, stunned by his stubbornness. She whirled around and her horn connected with his side, breaking skin and sending drops of blood splattering on the sand.

Littlefoot staggered back, shock and pain seen clear as day on his face.

Cera pawed the ground, preparing to charge once again to finish the fight for good.

A thunderous roar unlike anything the two had heard before echoed through the ravine, startling them.

Something large and powerful slammed down on the ground between them, knocking them off their feet. The two looked up in time to see Whiplash glaring down at them, his back turned, his head looking over his shoulder, and his eyes blazing with a fury that Littlefoot had never seen before.

"Cease this fighting immediately!" he roared.

Littlefoot flinched fearfully.

He'd never seen Whiplash this angry before.

Cera ignored the larger longneck's warning and attempted to climb over his tail to get to Littlefoot, but Whiplash picked it up and stomped a foot down to throw her off her feet once again. He bellowed his anger, forcing the children to cover their ears from the awful noise, eyes wide with terror.

When the dust finally settled, Whiplash's chest was heaving, his eyes wet, his body shaking.

He turned his head towards Cera and she flinched when she saw his face pulled back into a scowl.

"Apologise," he ordered firmly, "for what you said about his mother."

She glared back at him, tossing her head up, her pride unwilling to bend to apologise to a longneck.

With that said, she turned and walked away, and not once did she look back.

He didn't stop her.

She had gone no more than a few tail lengths from them when Littlefoot got back on his feet, his eyes brimming with tears as they bored into her back, shouting, "Go on! Go the wrong way! We never wanted you with us anyway!"

He turned and walked away in the opposite direction until he sat by a rock to nurse his injuries.

Ducky, Petrie, and Spike slowly crawled out from behind the rock that Whiplash had placed them behind to keep them safe. They glanced up uneasily at Whiplash, who continued to watch the threehorn walk onwards, getting further and further away from his protection. Then they looked over towards Cera, questions burning in their minds.

What were they going to do?

Would they follow Littlefoot and be frightened by Whiplash's anger?

Or follow Cera where the way she was taking was much easier than the current route.

After Littlefoot had licked away some of the blood from the cut in his side, he glared up at a nearby cliff that the Bright Circle was setting behind. He began to climb up it, not caring if the others followed him or not. He was determined to put as much distance between himself and Cera.

Something pressed itself against his tail until he was resting against something soft and familiar.

He glanced down and saw Whiplash's yellow eyes blinking up at him, all traces of his anger now gone as though it hadn't been there to begin with. Whiplash then looked back at Ducky, Petrie and Spike, his voice rasping with a gentleness that Littlefoot hadn't heard before.

"I'm sorry I snapped," Whiplash said sincerely, "but I didn't know what else I could do to make the fighting stop."

"I agree, Whiplash," Ducky said nervously, "I do, I do. But you really should not have been so mean."

Littlefoot avoided eye contact, unable to believe that Cera had done more than hurt him physically, she'd touched an all too familiar nerve that hurt much deeper than a sharp rock piercing through flesh and bone. "We should keep going," he muttered out loud.

"While I agree that we should," Whiplash said softly, "we shouldn't leave Cera behind."

All four children glance at him with surprise.

"Why should we after what she said?" Littlefoot demanded coldly. "She's a threehorn! Threehorns and longnecks don't go well together, we aren't the same, we're too different from each other."

Ducky looked down miserably, her lips trembling.

"It doesn't matter what we look like," Whiplash pushed stubbornly, surprising Littlefoot. "Cera, Ducky, Petrie, and Spike have proven that we can all work together no matter how difficult life may seem. If it hadn't been for Cera, we would not have known that Sharptooth was alive. Sure, she made up half the story, but that doesn't matter." He looked over at Spike. "If it wasn't for your sniffer, we would have starved by now."

Spike puffed his chest out proudly.

"Ducky, your positive look on life made things bright for all of us."

She brightened a little at that.

"And Petrie, I know you haven't found your wings yet, but your courage will come through someday."

Petrie looked a little nervous, but he nodded at his kind words.

Whiplash then addressed them all. "A herd doesn't make where you're born or raised in, a herd means family, and no one in our family gets left behind."

Littlefoot was baffled.

Whiplash, who had been so skeptical in the past about different kinds mixing together, had stepped forward to claim that no matter how different looked, one thing always stayed the same: they were a herd, through and through.

"Littlefoot."

He flinched when he detected a small hint of Whiplash's tone changing. He wasn't sure what it was, but he listened intently.

"Your mother would not have wanted any of this, little brother," his older brother whispered softly, so softly that only Littlefoot could hear him and he was grateful for that.

After a long pause, Littlefoot nodded, finally coming to the same conclusion. "We need to find Cera," he said out loud. "We need to get her back on the right path."

For the first time in a very long time, Whiplash smiled brightly. He turned and lowered his head to Ducky, Petrie and Spike. At first, they hesitated, but then slowly they clambered on until all four were securely between his shoulders.

"Hold on tight, you four," Whiplash announced loudly.

Once he felt their paws tighten their grip on his skin, he reared up on his hind legs, roaring loudly to the skies above, and bolted across the sands. The trail of a lost herd member was open, and he was determined not to lose her.