Happy New Year everyone! It's been awhile. I originally had said I wanted this chapter before Thanksgiving...well now it's into the new year and I'm two months late. For that I apologize and I owe an explanation.
Life got in the way. I'm working my degree right now, combine that with final essays, Christmas, and my social life, I just had no time or little motivation for writing. But I found it again recently and updates should appear more frequently. I have not abandoned this fic, nor will I ever. It's a joy to write this and I can't wait to do more with this fandom.
One more small note. I changed my pen name. When I originally joined fanfiction, I was a teenager and still very green haha. But I'm older and I want to take my stories a bit more seriously so I felt the change was appropriate. I still love punk rock of course, but I like this new name better. You can see the full story behind the name choice on my profile.
Anyway, enough jabbering on my part. Enjoy the story. I'm pleasantly surprised at the amount of people who like it. Thank you all for your support! A special shoutout to my buddy, theRhombus, who helped me to get over this writing hump. His work is fantastic, and far more impressive than mine. Check it out!
Now, on with the story!
Chapter 10. Pranks and Secrets
Underneath the shade within the tall trees, three teenage females sat among themselves, far from any prying eyes, but none were immune from each other's gaze. They knew each other well enough by now, their instinct for sensing emotion far more honed than their male counterparts.
Ducky was especially unhappy, and that was partially the reason why they were here. Cera had detected that immediately. Though she was not quite as close with Ali, she trusted her judgement enough that she could discern that this was a talk amongst the three of them and no one else. Ali may be a bit naïve (similar to another longneck she knew) but she was not stupid. She seemed a tiny bit surprised to be included in this company, but content to be one of the gang nonetheless.
"Alright the coast is clear," said Cera checking the area around them for signs of other dinosaurs.
"Cera, I swear, I'm fine. Nothing is wrong…"
"Look me in the eye and say that," said the threehorn as her duck billed friend sighed.
"Okay, something is wrong. Very wrong. Yup, yup, yup."
"What's the matter, Ducky?" Ali asked with concern.
Ducky plopped herself down on a large log, a log that only two years before was bigger than she was. The fact that she was big as this former piece of rotting vegetation was currently the least of her worries.
"My momma and I are not getting along lately," she admitted. "I've been feeling funny. And I don't just feel mad," she added looking back towards Cera. "Sometimes I feel happy, sometimes I am sad, sometimes I'm angry. There's a swirling pit within my entire body that feels like it could erupt at any moment. But the worst part is, I don't know why."
Cera could only think of one adequate explanation that could sum up that cauldron of emotion.
"Ducky, you know what's going on. It's…"
"I know what it is!" the swimmer cried. "But that doesn't make it any easier to go through. My momma watches over me all the time, trying to control everything I do! She does not do this with my twins and it's so unfair! On top of that she treats Spike as if he were some sort of mindless eating monster! But the worst part is I know this is partially my fault. If I were not so crazy and…"
She took a moment to catch her breath and heaved in heavy frustration.
"Mr. Thicknose said that this would not be easy, but-"
It didn't take a mastermind to know what Ducky was thinking.
"How long have you been bottling that in?" asked Cera.
"Too long."
Ducky didn't even bother to try and hold herself up as she fell back with a *thunk on top of the soft grass below the log. Ali reached over with her neck and helped her back up, her amber eyes full of empathy.
"I can relate, Ducky. I've been getting into a lot more fights with my mom too. Honestly, you guys have it better than I do. You have a teacher who can warn you beforehand about the Great Change. I'm always on the move so I have to take what the changes give me."
"Teacher or not, nothing could have prepared me for this," Ducky moaned. "I wish things were not so complicated."
"Life did seem much simpler even a month ago," Cera agreed. "When it was just eating tree stars and hitting rocks back and forth."
"No kidding."
"Ducky, you should have come to me sooner. Remember what I told you, it's not healthy to keep all your emotions inside you like that."
"I know."
"It's one thing to be able to express your anger, but you also need to learn how to control it. Us Threehorns have to figure that out the hard way."
She came up next to her best female friend and gave a smile.
"You know you can always count on me if you need anything."
Ducky reciprocated the smile.
"Thank you, Cera. I will remember that."
They nuzzled affectionately. Afterwards, all was silent, until Ducky realized something.
"Cera, you do not seem so happy yourself."
The teenage Triceratops realized she must have betrayed her own feelings, especially if Ducky could figure it out something was wrong.
I taught her everything she knows about expressing emotion, only figures she would learn a thing or two by now, she mused to herself.
"Yeah," chipped in Ali. "You're in that posture you always have when you're angry."
Damn, was I really that obvious?
"Might as well come clean," Cera said sighing. "You two aren't the only ones that have to deal with parents who don't understand you."
The swimmer and longneck settled in their respective positions, waiting for Cera to say more.
"My dad has become very preoccupied lately with marrying me off."
The two other girls raised their eyebrows in slight surprise.
"But you are much too young to get married," Ducky said.
"We're not supposed to enter the courtship phase for at least another few Cold Times," agreed Ali. "Why is your dad so keen to get you married already?"
I suppose I'll have to tell them what I told Littlefoot the other night, the orange threehorn thought, a splotch of red entering her cheeks as the memory of that night popped into her head.
Dammit, Cera! Keep it together. Stop getting all gushy when thinking of him!
Shaking her head, she proceeded to summarize threehorn culture, line of succession, and her place as her father's last remaining heir.
"So yeah, in his mind it's a win-win. I get married to an oh so wonderful bull, while his bloodline is all but assured. I give him a few grandkids and we all live happily ever after."
"Except you," observed Ali.
"Funny how my dad misses that part," Cera replied miserably.
She tried to sit down on a soft patch of grass, taking deep breaths as to not lose her temper, but she could feel the anger bubbling to the surface like a volcano threatening to explode.
And then it did.
Without warning, to the surprise of Ducky and Ali, Cera charged forward and slammed into a small tree with such force, it came down with a heavy crash.
Breathing heavily, she turned back towards her friends, who appeared unsure as to how to calm down a furious threehorn. But they both knew such an attempt would be futile. Cera simply needed to blow off steam.
"That stupid fucking moron!" she yelled. "Who the hell does he think he is?! 'Frank', what kind of stereotypical name is that?! If he thinks I'm going to marry him, I'll knock him out so hard he'll wake up not knowing his ass from his horns! And my dad thinks that he can play matchmaker and decide my life without even asking what I want?!"
There was a pause in her diatribe where silence seemed to echo throughout the forest, the wings of buzzards the only noise that had the ability to make itself heard. The very leaves had trembled with the rage of a pissed off female threehorn.
Cera had to take a step back. Losing her temper was nothing new, but it had been awhile since she had lost it quite that badly.
"How long have you been bottling that in?" Ali asked almost humorously.
"What is going on with us?" was all Cera could muster in a reply.
"Everything is upside down, it is, it is," Ducky said in agreement.
"I can't say I'm experiencing everything you guys are," Ali said cautiously. "But I definitely sympathize. All this pressure to suddenly be grown ups, become leaders in the herd, and start liking boys. It's pretty overwhelming, isn't it?"
The other two girls nodded in agreement.
Then a thought occurred to Cera, and she hated the fact that it would even enter her head. But curiosity was too strong, so she phrased it carefully.
"Speaking of boys, Ali," she said clearing her throat. "You and Littlefoot seem to be pretty close."
Ali was taken aback by the question but she quickly regained her composure and then started to laugh.
"Oh no, Cera. There's nothing going on between me and Littlefoot. We're cousins after all, no way would I ever marry him." She gave a small pause, and a small blush appeared on her cheeks. "Although, I do think Shorty is kind of cute."
Ducky giggled at this, while Cera breathed an inward sigh of relief.
So, she's not interested in the flathead. But then again, what do I care who Littlefoot dates? It's no skin off my horn.
"But if you're concerned, I know plenty of girls our age in my herd that would love a guy like Littlefoot," Ali added.
"Oh yes, yes," said Ducky clasping her hands together. "Maybe we can find someone for him, Ali."
Immediately, Cera's gut dropped like a stone in a river, while her anger rose once more. She did not like the idea of Littlefoot being paired with some bimbo headed flathead…
Her stomach gave a back flip and it took all she had to not knock over another tree.
What is wrong with me?! She thought almost desperately.
However, the threat of another rash, emotional decision abated when she heard a chorus of yells, followed by an intimidating roar. One that sounded an awful lot like…
"I think your dad is upset, Cera," Ducky said as if she read her mind.
"He's kind of scary sometimes," Ali admitted.
Cera couldn't argue with that, but it didn't take a genius to know what the source of the trouble was. She got up off her soft patch in the grass and began to walk towards the source of her father's voice.
"Come on, let's go see what the boys did," she said in a bored voice. "Before my dad mentally scars them for life."
The four boys made their way towards a tall grassy plain, full of green food, but also patched with tall bushes and a few tall trees that some of the new arriving longnecks were currently munching on.
"Wish I was tall enough to reach those," muttered Littlefoot hungrily.
"Give it a few years, you be as tall as those trees," Petrie laughed, flying slightly above them.
Spike grinned in agreement as a he chomped on a particularly tasty looking patch of grass. He never needed to look far for food.
"So, Shorty, what exactly are we doing?" Littlefoot asked curiously as they approached the plain.
His stepbrother gave a mischievous grin.
"I'm glad you asked. What we are about to embark on, my friends, is a prank like no other."
"Is that why my dad forbade you from doing it?"
Shorty gave a small shrug with only a slightly guilty look emanating from his teenage features.
"What he doesn't know won't hurt him. Besides, even he thought it was funny at first, even if he won't admit it."
He stepped onto the edge of the grass, the variety that was still high to hide them from view, even at their current size.
"Perfect," Shorty said to himself. He turned back around to face the rest of the boys.
"So," he said, his tone indicating a story. "About three months ago, Bron and I and the rest of the herd were looking for food. During one of our stops, we came across this patch where there was still a lot of grass and some trees with tree stars. I was heading towards this taller bush and was about to take a bite, when I tripped over some rock I didn't see."
He indicated the motion with his foot.
"Anyway, I must have yelled really loudly or caught him by surprise, because next thing I know I run into the legs of this spiketail, who got so scared he literally rolled over onto his back."
Shorty did a fake imitation of falling over, and began to roar with laughter.
"You should have seen it!" he said through tears. "His legs flailing like crazy and he was using swear words I'd never heard before. Took him almost 10 minutes to get back up."
He got back up and continued.
"Then I realized just what a golden opportunity this was. If spiketails got that spooked from a bump like that, it couldn't be that hard to do it to other ones. And so throughout our travels, whenever we came across spiketails, I would sneak up behind em and scare the hell out of them! Each time was the better than the last!
The green brachiosaurus drew himself proudly and declared, "I've even got a name for this prank. I call it, spiketail tipping."
All the while, Petrie was laughing heartily, and even Littlefoot had to stifle a chuckle.
"I assume Bron caught you at some point," the eldest brother said raising his eyebrow slightly.
"Only once," said Shorty unabashedly. "He said he didn't want me doing it anymore. But I manage to sneak one behind his back every now and then when he's not looking."
He gave an impish smile.
"And it just so happens, that behind me in this tall grass here, is a whole herd of spiketails. And last I checked, Bron is out of sight."
Littlefoot knew where this was going. It sounded amusing, but he didn't know if he wanted to participate in it himself.
"Shorty…"
"Come on Littlefoot, don't be a wuss. Bron's not going to find out. And they're only spiketails. It's not like we're trying to scare threehorns."
"In case you haven't noticed, there's a spiketail with us. Ever think he might not be so keen on the idea?"
They turned towards Spike, who despite the talk over pranking his species, seemed quite neutral.
"Don't worry, it isn't as if we're trying to prank him. Spike's exempt from this stunt," said Shorty assuredly.
"Yeah, you no mind? Right, Spike?" Petrie said flapping his wings excitedly.
Spike looked back and forth between the two boys and then at Littlefoot. He gave a small smile, and shook his head, indicating his indifference.
"See! He fine with it!"
Littlefoot wasn't convinced, however.
"You sure, Spike? You don't have to if you don't want to."
But the young spiketail did not have a problem with Shorty's proposed prank. Little did they know he and Tippy had done, more or less, the same thing when they were younger. Not to mention it would help him get his mind off the two things that were bothering him most. His growing plates, and his appetite.
Can't eat another patch of grass like I did the other day, he thought with a hint of sadness in his heart. He wished his mother understood better that he wasn't trying to upset her on purpose.
He turned his attention back to Littlefoot. He nodded his head with more vigor to convey the fact he had no issue with anything they might do to his fellow spiketails. On the contrary, he was looking forward to retrying this game.
With that vote of confidence, Shorty smirked to himself.
"I think he's cool, Littlefoot. Now are you in or what?"
He usually wasn't one for pranks. But something inside of him edged him on, despite his better judgement. Amusement surged through him at the thought of pranking an unsuspecting spiketail.
"Alright," he said with a grin. "I'm in. Let's do it."
Petrie snickered.
"This will be fun. Too bad the girls miss out!"
"Ahh, who needs em," Shorty said dismissively. "It's their loss anyway."
Littlefoot couldn't help but wonder what Cera would think of what they were about to do. Would she roll her eyes and tell him what a dumb flathead he was? Or would she join in and laugh along with them in their merriment? He could imagine her giggling as she batted her eyelashes at him…
"Littlefoot, let's go!" his brother said, cutting off his thoughts.
"Right, of course."
Can't you go more than five minutes without thinking about her? He asked himself.
It was getting harder to give a definitive 'yes' to that question. With great effort, he pushed those thoughts aside and tried to focus on the task at end.
Though they all were quite big now, the grass was still tall enough that it could hide their presence if they crouched low enough…and out of sight from the grazing spiketails.
"So, what's the technique?" Littlefoot asked in a low voice as they moved slowly through the brush.
"I'm glad you asked," his brother replied. "Normally it's much harder to do with just me. But with you guys, it'll get much simpler."
They came up within 20 feet of a large adult male Stegosaurus.
"See, the way to do it is sneak up behind them, give a big roar, and watch them topple over. But seeing as I have you guys with me today, I think we can get much more creative."
He turned back towards Spike.
"Hey Spike, see if you can find a log. Petrie go up ahead on one of those branches and scout to make sure no one's watching. When all is clear, flap your wings twice, and that'll be the signal to go ahead."
Both did as asked, and a few minutes later, Spike had returned with the log, while Petrie overlooked ahead on a lone tree that dotted the plain. Littlefoot was puzzled at first, but then he realized just what Shorty was doing.
"Oh no…"
Shorty gave a short laugh.
"I heard the story about how you made Mr. Thicknose run into a tree by breathing into that log. Figured it was time to give it another test run."
He wagged his eyebrows and set the log up directly behind a grazing spiketail. Littlefoot still wasn't sure whether or not he wanted to be a part of this, but a natural curiosity lurked within him. Something about this was just too enticing to pass up.
His brother waited patiently just beside the log while the spiketail continued to munch without a care in the world. Spike waited off perpendicular to the action, watching with mild interest. Petrie sat atop the lone branch pretending to muse about, but really on the lookout for anyone who might be coming their way.
Shorty peered both ways, flicked his tail in an upward motion towards Petrie, who flapped his wings twice in response. That was the signal. Spiketail tipping attempt number one was a go.
Without a second's more hesitation, the young Brachiosaurus breathed as hard as he could into the log. This created such a tremendous noise that the spiketail propelled forward in fright, only to trip and fall over on his back.
Confused and cursing like a threehorn on a bad day, the spiketail was left wondering what had just happened while Shorty scampered off back to the tall grass where Littlefoot lay watching, trying very hard not to burst out laughing. When they were far off enough away from the action and when Spike and Petrie had joined them, they began to laugh so hard tears were flowing from their eyes. Even Spike was on his back, howling.
"Oh man! Me not laugh that hard since we trick Cera into thinking we were giant monster!" Petrie cried.
"Told you it was great!" Shorty said through fits of laughter.
"I can see why my dad told you not to do it," Littlefoot grinned. "But I'm way too entertained not to try it myself."
"You up for another round?" his brother said giving him a playful whack with his tail.
"You read my mind," he replied returning the gesture.
"We'll have to go in another part of the meadow just to make sure we won't get caught," Shorty said. "We'll have to split up and find another log. Let's meet by the east side of the meadow in five minutes."
Nodding, the boys went their own way trying to scout for the right sized log that would suit their pranking purposes, while Petrie surveyed overhead for an unsuspecting spiketail.
Littlefoot spotted a small, shady grove where a half dozen trees shadowed the meadow, a couple of which looked fairly dead.
Might be a fallen trunk over there, he thought. He wandered over to the grove and began gazing around for the desired object. Up until now, the hilarity of the prank had completely taken his mind off the fact that his brother and father were keeping something from him. However, he was about to be reminded of that rather painfully.
As he checked over the two dead trees for any fallen branches (munching on some tree stars from the still healthy ones) he heard faint whispers of a conversation that sounded as if it were headed his way. Not wanting to eavesdrop, he was prepared to leave until he heard the words, "…don't know what Bron is going to do, it's too dangerous."
Perking up, he saw two fully grown adult longnecks stopping by the grove to grab the tree stars others couldn't reach. Intrigued, he stayed low and pretended to graze on the smaller branches. He could not completely hide his presence as he was too large now, but he could still pass unnoticed if he did not draw attention to himself. Making sure the sound of his crunching leaves was audible, he listened in closely.
"…there's no telling how long we will stay or how long we will be able to stay. We cannot take refuge in the valley forever," said the first longneck who was of a dark blue color.
Refuge? Just what on earth was going on?
"What other choice do we have, Longtail? The world outside is in disarray. Red Claw has either recruited all the sharpteeth in the area to his side or has killed off any that challenged him. The herds no longer feel safe enough moving in their usual migration patterns. Coming here was the last option. I feel Bron made the right decision, especially after the Old One was killed."
The other longneck, a more greenish hue, was equally as adamant in his argument.
"But you know that the herd cannot stay this size forever. Bron is but one longneck. How will he tame the younger, more aggressive males? Preside over the mating season? Find food for all? He has to provide not just for his own herd, but for two. Fear and danger drove us to accept him as the temporary guardian. But it won't last."
The other one sighed.
"You're right about that. No doubt there is a void left by the Old One and Bron, as a stoic a figure he is, cannot handle it himself. I have seen how tired he looks these days. The pressure is quite a burden to bear. Some within the younger generation must take a more active role in the herd."
The blue longneck took a pause and checked around to make sure no was listening before continuing.
"I hear Bron has two sons. One of which lives with his grandparents here in the valley. The tales of his escapades are legendary. Perhaps the time has come for him to join his own kind and take his place among the herd."
Littlefoot gulped down his food with great difficulty, this was all too much to take in at once. But he could not tune out the conversation. It sucked him in like a dark vortex he could not avoid.
"You know leadership positions among our kind are not hereditary, Plod" the other one called Longtail argued. "He would certainly have to prove himself before the older members would accept his ascendancy."
"If what I've heard is true, he's already passed his trials with great distinction. The only thing left, would be for him to take a mate to signify his future leadership," said the one called Plod, who also shook his head. "In any case, there is no point in dwelling on that matter, Longtail. Bron has forbidden anyone to tell the valley about our reasons for coming. As far as I know his first born doesn't even know the circumstances under which we came."
The one called Longtail scoffed.
"He thinks he's being noble by not worrying the valley. Still believes that this visit is only temporary."
"You disagree with his verdict?"
"I don't believe there is any point in pretending why we are here. Though this community is quite isolated, they will find out eventually the news of Red Claw and his machinations. I guarantee that we will see more and more refugees arriving by the end of the wet season. And then what? Do we simply hide in this temporary oasis forever?"
The air went silent, and Littlefoot quickly returned to munching so as to not arouse suspicion. He had been so drawn in by the conversation he had almost forgotten his alibi.
"Those are all questions that will need answering in due time," said Plod. "But let us not focus too much on these matters now. We are safe, we have food and water. That is enough in the short term. We must respect Bron's decisions and abide by them. Come, let us go to the falls."
Longtail did not argue but seemed content to follow his companion. As they began to lumber away, Littlefoot dropped any pretense of eating and dashed away, head practically spinning from what he just heard.
So, this is what his dad and Shorty had been keeping from him? That Old One had been killed and Red Claw was consolidating his control of all the lands outside the valley. And that he may have to leave his home, everything he knew and loved, behind. He had already turned down an offer to live with his father once. But if push came to shove he wasn't sure he could do it a second time. Especially if those of his own kind needed him.
Somehow Cera came back into his mind. He knew he'd miss her the most if such an event were to occur, but how did one handle having feelings towards a dinosaur of another species? In any case, he knew he couldn't stay simply because of her. Not without revealing the truth. He sensed the same within the threehorn, but he still wasn't sure.
Damn, when did life become so confusing?
He felt a headache coming on and tried to ignore it. There was other business to attend to. Such as confronting Shorty over why his own brother felt the need to keep something like this from him. He wouldn't be avoiding his questions this time.
Soon enough, he found him along with Spike and Petrie, who were busy setting up another log behind a Spiketail, casually grazing, unaware that he was about to become the victim of a prank.
Screw the practical jokes, I'm going to get answers one way or the other, Littlefoot thought with frustration.
He ran over to the grassy bush where they were hiding and was about to open his mouth, when Shorty shushed him.
"Where were you?" he said in a harsh whisper. "We thought you went all scaredy-egg on us."
"And I thought I could trust my brother to tell me anything," Littlefoot shot back. "I guess I was wrong."
At once, Shorty's face registered shock before growing oddly downcast. "Littlefoot…"
"Don't 'Littlefoot' me, Shorty," he responded harshly. "I know. About everything. You and dad were trying to keep it from me."
Shorty sighed. All playfulness had evaporated from his face as he debated how to explain things to his uncharacteristically upset stepbrother. "I wanted to tell you and so did Ali, but we needed to be careful." Shorty's eyes grew dark as his expression took on a dangerous glint. "If the valley knew what happened then how long do you think it would take for them to tell us to go? How long do you think it would take for even more of us to be eaten or starved? That's a lot more important than your feelings!"
Shorty regretted the hard tone of his words as soon as they left his mouth, but there was no going back from them. The stakes were that high.
"Oh yeah?" Littlefoot responded his own eyes taking on a dangerous shade. "And do my feelings not factor in this? You think you can just waltz in here under these circumstances, not tell me what's going on, and then whisk me away? You know, everyone's so preoccupied with growing up, taking my place in the herd, being a leader, did you stop and think maybe I might want a say?! Screw you, Shorty! You didn't think once how this would affect me and everyone else in the valley."
Shorty tried to speak, but then thought better of it. For someone who had such a big mouth he was at a loss as to what to say.
Just then a monstrous sound emanated some distance away as more than one spiketail tumbled onto their backs, sending a torrent of panicked cries and curses into the air. Along with the cacophony of chaos was the tell-tale sound of laughter from a certain flyer and spiketail.
Petrie in particular was laughing like an idiot, and Spike wasn't far behind kicking his legs in the air, tail swaying back and forth. Tears were forming in the flyer's eyes.
"Hey, Shorty! You right, this is fun!"
Then came the thunderous sound of trampling feet. And it sounded all too familiar.
"Uh oh," Littlefoot said, fear replacing his anger in a heartbeat.
"What's that?" Shorty asked, clearly not understanding the gravity of the situation.
"If you knew, you'd be as scared as I am!" Littlefoot hissed. But before he could tell them to run, it was too late. A massive, brown colored threehorn burst through the tall grass with a terrible roar and landed with a loud thud.
"What in the blue blazes is going on?!"
The laughter emanating from Petrie and Spike immediately ceased and turned to chattering fear (at least from the flyer).
"Oh no, it Cera's dad!" Petrie whispered, completely terrified, as he and Spike scampered over to where the longnecks were.
"I'm aware, Petrie," Littlefoot responded. He didn't need reminding that they were in big trouble. Though they were much older and bigger now, Topps was still as much of an intimidating figure as he was when they were younglings. He was not someone you wanted breathing down your neck when angry.
None of them had much time to contemplate their predicament before the irate threehorn appeared directly in front of them, horns bared. It was obvious that he was not in a cheerful mood.
"What exactly have you delinquents done this time?"
"Um...well…"Littlefoot began, but his brother interrupted.
"Hey there horn face," he said confidently but foolishly. "Everything's fine here. Just some Spiketails tripping on pinecones. We were helping them up."
Oh, you idiot, was all Littlefoot could think of as he knew what was coming next. He realized Shorty had never met Cera's father before, and he was due for a rude awakening.
Topps turned a great shade of prune at this as Shorty suddenly saw the aforementioned horned face directly in his line of vision. "Do you think this is funny, flathead? Do you think that I couldn't hear what you four were doing?" He stepped closer, making Shorty take a step back. "Would you like to see what these horns can do?"
Shorty, for all his posturing, did not appear as if he wanted to meet that challenge.
"Well..no...I mean...what I meant was…"
Petrie cut in.
"Please mister Cera's dad sir, we won't do it again. We promise!"
"Oh I will make sure of that!" Topps roared. "I certainly think the spiketails would be willing to forgive this if you did something for them. I am sure they need their relieving spots re-dug, that sounds like a good task for you four!"
"Couldn't he just kick us out instead?" Shorty smirked as he whispered to Littlefoot.
"I heard that!" the male threehorn boomed.
This wasn't going well and Littlefoot was seriously worried about what was going to happen next if Shorty didn't shut up.
Just then, there was another burst through the grass as Cera, Ducky, and Ali appeared. Littlefoot caught Cera's eye and gave her a pleading look.
Help, he mouthed to her when Topps wasn't looking.
She nodded and walked up to her father, cutting in between him and the boys.
"Daddy, are you scaring my friends again?" she said in a sugary sweet tone she knew could melt her father's heart faster than white ground sparkles near a hot spring.
"Dear, they were scaring the spiketails." Topps responded, but it was obvious that much of the fire was out of his voice.
"But you know Littlefoot," she replied even sweeter than before giving him a look she knew he always fell for. "He never has any bad intentions. I promise you, they won't do it again."
"Yeah, we've learned our lesson!" Littlefoot affirmed before not-so-gracefully nudging his brother with his body.
"Hmph… right. We promise." Shorty grumbled, unpleased to show weakness or submission before the threehorn.
Petrie and Spike also nodded vigorously.
Shorty's tone was not lost on Topps, but he relented. "Fine. But if any more spiketails fall down…you four will have some new duties in the valley." With a final scrape of the ground to imitate digging a relieving spot, Topps began to walk off. Leaving the dinosaurs alone with only the grumbling of the affected spiketails making any sound.
As soon as they were alone, Cera turned towards the boys while Ducky and Ali giggled.
"All I can say is this: you owe me. Big time."
"Oh, you made Cera's dad mad, you did, you did," giggled Ducky as she approached Petrie.
"Me not want to talk about it," said Petrie faintly, collapsing to the ground.
Spike grunted his agreement as he slumped to the ground. Though he was now a bit more cautious in making sure that he didn't tip over.
Cera noted this, and gave Shorty a glance. "One of your brilliant ideas?"
Shorty smiled cheekily. "Gee, you already assume this is my fault."
Cera rolled her eyes. "A safe assumption as it was your fault each of the last four times you were here, Shorty."
"Uh, what exactly happened?" Ali asked, a bit confused. "He said you were scaring Spiketails?"
"We tip spiketails by scaring them! It fun!" Petrie exclaimed.
Spike nodded though his enthusiasm was not quite as high as his flyer friend.
"Well, thanks, Cera." Shorty offered quickly. "But I think Littlefoot, Ali, and I need to talk about something important before the Bright Circle falls." He gave Ali an unreadable glance as he mouthed out 'he knows'.
Ali gave a small start, but nodded all the same indicating she understood.
Cera meanwhile looked nonplused at this and more than a little suspicious. It was just like flatheads to try and keep a secret and fail miserably. "Fine. But I need to talk to you at some point," she said to Littlefoot.
The brown longneck turned to his stepbrother first. "I'm sure that the conversation about your herd can wait, Shorty. It wasn't like either of you were in a hurry to talk about it earlier." Littlefoot noted with an acidic tone. Turning around so as to not look at either of the longnecks, Littlefoot gestured with his neck at his threehorn friend. "Lead the way, Cera."
He's clearly not happy with either of them, Cera thought to herself as she strode ahead. Strangely, she seemed to share some of what Littlefoot was feeling. And an equally strong urge to spend time with him. Alone.
Behind them neither could see the concerned looks of the two longnecks or of their three other abandoned friends. Eventually Shorty shook his head and gestured for Ali to follow. Both of them knew that a difficult conversation with Bron was in store.
Man that was a long one, eh? I know the wait was long but I made sure to make the chapter longer than I had originally intended as a way to say 'sorry' and 'thank you' at the same time. What will Shorty and Ali do? What does this walk hold in store for Littlefoot and Cera? Find out in the next chapter of 'This Is Growing Up'!
Happy New Year! ~ The Wasp