Hey, guys. So, I've been writing this chapter for a couple of months, but kept on starting over because I wasn't satisfied with it. :') But I've finally finished it, and it is short, but some pretty wild stuff happens.

Also, I might be changing this story's rating to T sometime in the near future. The direction of this story won't change, as it's still going where I planned, but there will be some violence in the later chapters, and I want to play it safe. So, that's what the rating will be changed to soon.

The bright circle smiled upon the land, shining brighter than it ever had before. Today was one of the longest days of the year, and the bright circle seemed to be particularly generous with distributing it's warmth and light. Hence, the residents of the Great Valley thought it appropriate to give thanks for the many, many gifts that the bright circle had bestowed upon them.

One such gift was the gift of food. While having occasional droughts and floods like other places, the Great Valley had more than enough food to last the entire year. It was because of this bountiful supply of nourishment that the residents had a tendency to take it for granted, resulting in meaningless tiffs.

Up in a tree, a quartet of small flyers argued over a cherry, red and ripened. The light blue flyer holding the cherry in her beak aggressively flapped her wings, squeaking to ward the others off. Behind her, a darker blue flyer latched his teeth around her long tail. She screeched in pain, the cherry flying out of her mouth as she jumped. The dark blue flyer swooped down to catch the fruit, only to be bested by a grey female, who perched herself up in a higher branch, sneering at her bickering comrades. Just when she thought she had won, another female, a light purple, forcibly pulled the cherry from her mouth. The grey flyer pulled the cherry back, and the two flyers engaged in a fierce game of tug and war.

The grey flyer was undeniably stronger, and managed to retrieve her meal. Perhaps, she was a little too strong, for the cherry slipped from her grasp, plummeting towards the ground. The flyers all screeched in horror, watching as the highly appetizing snack slipped away from them and landed in the mouth of a female rainbow face.

Mackenzie was delightfully surprised to find a cherry falling from the sky, not hesitating for a moment to snatch it up. Red juice covered the corners of her mouth as she relished the sweet taste.

Amelia, who had been out for a stroll with her family, stopped to peer at her underbelly where a tinge of red and purple lined her scales. The bizarre discoloring did not pain her, but she was concerned about their sudden appearance.

Tristan had begun to walk ahead with his daughters when he noticed that his mate was no longer walking alongside him. He turned, and spotted Amelia a few feet behind, her neck craned so that her head was under her abdomen. Quirking a brow, he padded on towards her.

"What's wrong?" He inquired, tilting his head towards the right, his eyes concerned, "Does it itch somewhere?"

"It's not so much an itch," Amelia began to reply, pulling her head out from under her abdominal area, not quite making eye contact with him, "There's just some weird markings. I've never even noticed them before..."

"Let me see." Tristan was both curious and worried. He lowered his neck, performing a close examination of the affected area. Lo and behold, there were some rather odd markings. They looked somewhat like bruises, but her scales seemed as if they were peeling off, one by one. "Hm...does it hurt?" He proceeded to lick the area, earning disgusted expressions from Mackenzie and Miriam. To them, that was on the same level of disgusting as licking someone else's droppings.

"Ew," groaned Mackenzie, wrinkles forming on her face as she scrunched up her nose, absolutely repulsed. "Dad, that is disgusting."

"Oh, hush." After tending to his mate, he raised his neck, turning his head towards Mackenzie. "This is a basic task. If I couldn't do this much for your mother, then I wouldn't be a very good husband."

"Adults are gross," Miriam muttered to her sister.

Tristan snorted, rather bemused at how bold they were, acting as if they weren't two feet in front of them. "Well, sorry to burst your bubble, but you two will be just as gross as us one day, if not more."

"That's right," said Amelia. "You'd do good to appreciate your youth while you still can. It won't last forever."

Mackenzie rolled her eyes and shook her head. She wasn't sure if anyone could be as gross as her parents, with their gestures of affection and pet names for each other — it made her sick.

Amelia and Tristan shared a laugh at their daughter's defiance before they resumed walking. It proved to be a bit difficult for Amelia to keep up with her mate's pace, and this showed in the way she moved each leg slowly with an occasional wince. Her breathing was somewhat more noticeable than usual, as if she were struggling to catch even a single whiff of air.

Tristan's previously blank expression turned into one of worry. He continued sauntering forward, but his eyes did not leave her. He still remembered clearly how she used to look — her sea blue eyes always shining with a childlike innocence, and her figure so plump and strong. Now, she was dangerously thin, treading the line of being severely underweight. Dark circles were under her eyes, as she always seemed to be tired, and even her lovely green scales had a different texture to them.

His first instinct was to interrogate, ask her if she'd been eating enough, and why she looked so ill. However, he refrained from doing so. An angry interrogation was the last thing she needed. Rather, he gave her snout a brief nuzzle, and spoke softly. "Are you feeling alright? You seem to be lagging a bit. Do you need to rest?"

Amelia stopped, her tired eyes fixated onto the grass. Her mouth agape, she sucked in a breath. "I just feel tired— I think I might not have eaten enough. All I had for breakfast was that green food from the watering hole."

"But you were fine earlier," Tristan stated, recalling how lively she'd been a few hours ago, while telling her tale, "It seemed to me like you had a substantial meal."

"Maybe." Amelia sighed. She'd been feeling ill time and time again, and no matter how much better she felt, the illness would always return to bite her in the tail. It was a problem, a real problem. "I really don't know why, but I'm just not feeling up to scratch today. Perhaps another rest would be good."

"Alright," he said, nodding. "Let's go to the shade. You can rest there. I don't want you staying in the heat."

So, the two dinosaurs changed their path, much to the bewilderment of their children.

"Mom, dad?" Miriam raised a brow inquisitively. "I thought we were going straight?"

"Your mother doesn't feel well," Tristan explained. "I'm taking her to the shade so she can rest for a little while."

Miriam and Mackenzie stole a glimpse of their mother, who stood hunched over, her head hanging low. The look in her eyes, it was as if any and all life had left them.

"In that case, can we go hang out with our friends?" Mackenzie asked, almost reluctantly.

Tristan seemed somewhat offended that they were more concerned about spending time with their friends rather than the health and well-being of their own mother. He was undeniably worried to death about her, but no one else seemed as worried as he did. Perhaps, he was overreacting a tad bit — no, this was most definitely something to worry about, as there was something seriously wrong with his mate. None of this was normal, especially not for someone as healthy and strong as Amelia.

He looked at his daughters for a long time, and then looked at Amelia to see what she had to say.

"I'm alright with it," she said in a rather strained voice, as if even speaking was difficult, "I'm in no mood to argue, and one day won't hurt. But if I hear—" she was interrupted by a cough, and then another. "If I hear that you two have done something stupid, it's back to being grounded."

Tristan gave her a sideways glance, alert and on edge, ready to bolt and call for help if he needed to. Miriam and Mackenzie wore worried and uneasy expressions, as if they were beginning to have second thoughts.

Mackenzie began to slouch, her tail dangling downwards, a dead giveaway that she was feeling nervous. "...Mom?"

Amelia appeared to be angry and exasperated, something quite uncharacteristic of her. "Yes?"

Mackenzie searched her mother's face. She looked the exact opposite of what Mackenzie remembered. "Are you okay...?"

Tristan couldn't help but allow a smile to turn up the corners of his mouth. He would rather not be having this sort of discussion at all, but he was glad someone else besides himself was finally beginning to take notice of Amelia's slowly declining health.

"I'm fine, dear." A slither of her usual kind and loving tone managed to slip into her voice. "Don't worry. Just go and play with your friends."

When their mother offered them that confident smile that had helped them through the darkest of times, Miriam and Mackenzie felt more reassured, and ran up the hill to find their friends.

"Come on," Tristan urged gently, sticking close to his mate as the two walked side by side.

Molly and her sons wandered the downwards slope leading to the winding stream, connected to a roaring waterfall. Slowly, she edged towards the end of the bank, where she could see the clear water flowing freely. She lowered her neck, taking small and gentle sips. Then, she looked up.

Surrounded by tall trees with broad leaves, as well as a variety of life, Molly was disappointed that she'd never taken the time to notice them before. She had been so upset about Michael's death, that it was as if all the beauty had gone from the world. It was only now that she was beginning to see that beauty once more.

Adam walked closer to the stream, dipping his hand in the water to feel the temperature. "...Mom? Is the water okay?"

"It's fine, honey," Molly replied, taking another drink.

"It seems questionable to me..."

"Why don't you get a closer look?" Gabriel asked, moments before pushing his brother into the stream.

Adam shrieked from sheer surprise as he tumbled into the water with a splash. It was hardly deep enough to go past his ankles, so depth was not an issue. Adam, however, was deeply upset when he resurfaced, sputtering some of the water he'd accidentally swallowed.

"Gabe! That wasn't funny!"

Molly chuckled out loud, despite trying to hold back her laughter. "Your father would have thought it was."

Adam went silent. Then, he offered a kind smile. "I'm sure he would be happy to see you enjoying yourself, mom."

"And he would be so proud of you," Gabriel added.

Before Molly had the chance to speak, she spotted a silhouetted figure amongst the vegetation. The figure stood on two legs, and it's shape resembled that of a rainbow face. Molly squinted so that she could see better, but the figure was effectively concealed under the leaves of the trees, bushes, and other plants.

"Stay here, boys," she commanded, "I'll be right back."

Carefully, she hopped over the stream, and stepped into the shadows. She barely made a sound as she passed through the cover of the bushes. The figure was still standing there, under the tree. Then, it stepped forward, revealing the limbs that closely resembled Molly's.

Molly looked down, her brows furrowed. She wasn't quite sure what to expect, and she could feel her heart thumping against her chest.

The figure slowly emerged, stepping out to where the sunlight shone through the trees. Molly turned deathly pale, the blood rushing from her face.

"Molly...hey, baby."

The figure was indeed a rainbow face. But there was only one rainbow face who spoke to her like that, and he was dead. It couldn't possibly be Michael. Her mind was playing a cruel, cruel trick on her.

She covered her eyes with her hands, hunching over. "No...it can't be. I'm finally beginning to enjoy my life again, why now?"

"Molly..."

Good grief. It even sounded like him. The way he extended his hand, those worried sage eyes, they all reminded her of him.

"No!" She cried, shaking her head and covering her eyes once more. "You're dead! You can't be here! You're dead!"

The rainbow face that was supposedly Michael shook his head helplessly, his own eyes welling up with tears at the sight of his wife, whom no one could blame for this outburst.

Molly broke down into tears, her claws gripping her scales, creating small, minuscule cuts in the skin. "You're not real, you're not real, you're not real."

Left with little choice, Michael could see what he had to do. He walked closer, and touched his hand to her cheek. Then, he pressed their foreheads together. "I am real, and I am here. I've come back to you, Molly...I'm sorry for leaving you by yourself for so long."

Molly sobbed quietly, closing her eyes and shaking her head. His presence felt so real, and so like him, but she couldn't believe it. She didn't want to indulge herself to get close to him, only to find out that this was yet another figment of her imagination.

Gabriel and Adam remained where they were, as they had been told. However, as they listened closely, they could hear their mother's sobs, a sound which had been seared into both of their minds.

"Mom's crying," whispered Adam.

"She could be hurt," theorized Gabriel, "We should go make sure she's alright."

"But mom said—"

"It doesn't matter what mom said if she's been hurt," Gabriel interrupted, "Come on."

The brothers peered into the bushes, and saw two rainbow faces. One was clearly their mother. The other...

"No way..." Gabriel said in a hushed voice, wide eyed. "Adam, I think I'm seeing things."

"No, no, I see him too. We can't both be off our tails, can we?"

Michael had anticipated this sort of reaction, but he'd never quite prepared himself for it. Molly had taken him for dead. Everyone had. She had more than likely spent weeks, or maybe months, grieving the loss of him. Now, she had finally begun to heal, and her husband, who she thought was dead and gone, had shown up in front of her as if it had never happened.

"Molly, you have to believe me."

"But...how can you be here? I saw you—"

"I know." He wound his arms around her, lifting her off of the ground a few inches in a gentle embrace, "I know what happened, but you have to believe that it really is me. It's not just you imagining things, it's not some messed up joke, it's me. Please...I've missed you so much, Molly."

Molly was taken by surprise at the sudden embrace, more tears streaming down her face. She was terrified to believe him. She didn't want to get hurt another time. She looked up, meeting his pleading eyes. Seeing how desperate he was, she relented.

"...What happened? How did you survive?"

Michael smiled, breathing a sigh of relief as he massaged her shoulder. "I'm not really sure how I survived, but I think it's because I didn't receive nearly as much impact as those fast biters. Anyway, as soon as I was able to get out, I headed to the Great Valley, because I had told you to go there."

Molly, who had now calmed down considerably, nodded her head. "And I did."

Michael smiled as he continued on. "On my way, I met a little sharptooth. We got off to a rough start, but she was a sweet little creature."

Realization flashed in her eyes. Not because of Michael associating himself with a sharptooth, but because there was a chance that they were both thinking of the same dinosaur.

"...Is her name Eva, by any chance?"

Michael was dumbfounded. He stared at her, mouth ajar. "How did you know?"

"The boys told me that Miriam and Mackenzie told them about her. She lives here, in the Great Valley."

"No way."

"What, I'm serious!"

Michael smiled to himself. He had told the sharptooth that they might meet again someday, but he was pleased to find that the day had come sooner than expected. He looked back at Molly, who looked tired beyond all belief. Once again, he pressed their foreheads together.

"You can rest now," he told her, his voice barely above a whisper, "I'm here to help. You've done a great job, and I couldn't be more proud. There's no way I would have been able to handle all that if I were in your place."

"I wish you were in my place," Molly snapped, not tearing away from him as she usually would when tired of his nonsense, "Then you would know what it was like, feeling so hopeless, like your life as you once knew it was over, and you might never be the same again."

Michael chuckled and nuzzled her chin, not bothering to withhold the sparkling tears that sprang to his eyes. He had given up on acting 'masculine' years ago. He didn't care whether crying or showing affection made him seem soft, or somehow less masculine. All that he cared about was that those he loved knew that they were loved. After nearly losing his life, it opened his eyes to how short his life had the potential to be. He couldn't waste time acting cold and standoffish, especially not to his family.

Gabriel and Adam stood there the entire time, watching the scene unfold. When Michael finally looked towards them, Adam was so taken aback that he stumbled backwards, falling over in the process. He quickly scrambled to his feet, hiding behind his brother's leg.

"M-Mom...? Do you see...?"

"Your father?" Molly lowered her head to his level. "I know. I know it seems impossible, but it really is him."

"Come on out, lad," Michael crooned, tickling Adam under the chin.

Adam backed away, retreating further behind Gabriel, who was just as shocked as him.

A look of realization then passed over Gabriel's face, replaced by an expression of intense thought. "If we both see him, and mom sees him too, then he has to be real. Right?"

Michael grinned eagerly. "Now we're talking."

Gabriel stepped forward, his steps slow and cautious. Once he was face to face with his father, he extended a hand, feeling the older dinosaur's cheek, rubbing the palm of his hand over the green scales. Upon feeling the texture, Gabriel realized that this was no illusion. This was his father. He recognized him by his voice, his scent, his touch, and by his love.

"Dad..." He jumped into his arms, allowing himself to be held and cradled by his father, as if he were a hatchling again. His emotions overwhelmed him at once — the feeling of relief, the realization of how glad he was to have his father back, the happiness he felt for his mother — it all came over him like a powerful tidal wave.

Michael held Gabriel tightly, gently rocking him from side to side. "Oh, my big boy...your dad's here now. Don't worry. Oh, I've missed you so much—"

"I've missed you too, dad. We all did." Gabriel sniffled, unaware that he was crying.

Michael peered over his son's shoulder, and saw his other son sitting on the ground, staring. Adam had always been rather awkward and scared, which Michael had come to understand, giving the father and son a very special bond.

He set Gabriel down on the ground, and padded over to Adam. Without any warning beforehand, he lifted him up as well. Adam had little opportunity to protest.

"Didn't think I'd forget about you, did you?"

Adam didn't have a response for him, just a harassed stare.

"Come on, Adam. Don't you recognize me?"

"How...how do I know it's you...?"

"How could it be anyone else?"

Adam took a moment to sniff him, and then looked into his eyes. It was most definitely him, but...how?

"I know it doesn't make a lot of sense," said Michael, as if reading Adam's mind, "But that doesn't matter, son. What matters is that I'm here, and that you all are safe and sound."

After a moment of brief consideration, Adam also embraced the male rainbow face. Suddenly, the past weeks of hurt seemed to have vanished, replaced by the love of his family, reunited and stronger than ever before.

"Here we are."

Tristan and Amelia walked into the clearing, surrounded by conifer trees of various sizes. Tristan had been able to locate a spot where his wife could rest without being exposed to any sunlight, and carefully led her to the area.

By this point, Amelia was in a very bad way, and truly felt ready to collapse just about anywhere. Her limbs ached, begging her for a rest. However, she was now hesitant to relieve herself, for she feared that if she fell, she might not rise again.

"Where is here...?" Amelia asked in a voice too soft to be audible. She then stopped in her tracks, her neck lowering as she opened her mouth in order to breathe better. It was getting harder to hide this from her husband, who was already worried enough.

Tristan gave the clearing a quick glance over, admiring the sense of calmness it brought. The sunlight seeped in through the leaves, but barely enough to offer a bit of warmth. A soft whisper traveled through the air, sadly overridden by the screeching and clicking sounds of other creatures.

"What do you think, dear? It's quite nice, isn't it?" When he turned his head to witness her reaction, he was taken aback by her condition. He blanched visibly, his eyes wide as he took a step backwards. Amelia's now flaky scales were so discolored, they no longer looked green. Her tail fell flat, sulking towards the ground. She coughed violently, each cough resembling a desperate gasp for air.

"Amelia." His voice was firm, but the twinge of fear that he felt showed in the way his mouth trembled and quivered. "Amelia, you— you're sick, sit down— Amelia!"

Her knees buckled, her legs giving way as she collapsed to the ground. Tristan had cut himself off to reflexively yell her name and catch her body with his. This helped lessen the impact, as she still fell to the ground with a loud thud which caused the ground to rumble briefly. Tristan could feel the vibrations as her body went limp.

Amelia slipped in and out of awareness, while Tristan was bent over her, trying to establish some sort of contact. He repeatedly nudged her in the side with no response. "Amelia? Amelia, come on, wake up."

At last, she opened her eyes, a circle of sea blue visible underneath her lid. She blinked a few times, trying to make sense of what had just transpired. She looked at Tristan, utterly confused.

Tristan was relieved to see that she was able to regain consciousness. It was a sign that she wasn't a goner just yet. When he saw her collapse, all he could think was that she was dead — she was dead, and the light had gone from his life.

"Tristan," she rasped, her breathing sounding rather wet and ragged. "Tristan, what's wrong...?"

He couldn't bear to tell her. She looked lost and confused enough already, and he just couldn't send another whirlwind of confusion her way. After all, if her condition persisted, she would find out soon enough — which would hopefully never come to pass. At the moment, he had to focus on helping her get home so she could have a decent rest.

"Nothing," he finally said after staring into her eyes for what felt like a long time, but was in actuality, a few short seconds. "You just tripped and fell, and I got worried. I wanted to make sure you didn't accidentally hurt yourself."

Amelia's mouth began to curve into a smile out of amusement at his anxious and overprotective nature, but a sharp, stinging pain radiating against her head stopped her from doing so. Purely out of reflex, she cried out in pain.

Tristan's muscles tensed up as he watched her, alarmed. She only seemed to get worse with each movement she made, the energy gradually leaving her body. Still, through it all, she remained her cheery and lovely self.

"Amelia, let's go home."

"What?" She coughed for a bit, trying to manage a few words as she hacked, "Why? Surely, it can't be that late..."

Tristan said nothing, and simply begged her to listen with a look that Amelia had seen many times before. She gave a sigh, and with much difficulty, rose to her feet.

Her footing was unsteady and uncertain, her body wobbling as she struggled to stay planted onto the grass. She was in a haze, able to see a blurred version of her surroundings, and hear her husband's warbled voice ask her a question. She took some time to respond, but Tristan waited patiently.

"W-What was that...?"

Tristan had asked her if she thought could stand on her own. A foolish inquiry, really. Her condition spoke for itself. Needless to say, he didn't need any further coaxing to see that she would require some assistance. He grabbed her hand, gripping it firmly while giving it a comforting squeeze.

Amelia's head felt like it weighed several tons, and at the same time, felt as light as a feather. Within the gurgling bowels of her stomach, she felt ominously uneasy. Then, without any warning, she vomited all over Tristan.

"Sorry," she managed to gasp, her consciousness fleeting from her like a buzzer that she had barely missed by an inch.

Tristan was beyond disgusted that he was now covered his wife's bodily fluids, but the disgust was easily outweighed by worry. He dismissively shook his head, communicating to her that it was nothing she needed to be sorry for.

She began to lose her hold on whatever little fragments of consciousness she had been hanging onto, her lids growing heavier and heavier. Seconds after her world became a swarming mass of colors, her body was pulled downwards, hitting the ground with a deafening thud. Tristan couldn't catch her this time.

"Amelia!" Tristan fell to his knees, trying to bring her back around a second time, but she was completely unresponsive. No matter how desperately he called her name, she remained unconscious. In that moment, he reprimanded himself for everything he hadn't done — he hadn't pushed her to do something about the signs of illness that she exhibited, he hadn't cared for her well enough, he hadn't been a good husband. The truth was, he had done all of those things to the best of his ability, but at the moment, he was in shock and ridden by guilt, under the impression that he was somehow culpable for all of this. He wouldn't start thinking rationally until later on.

After shaking her motionless form for a good minute, which proved to be futile, Tristan looked up at the sky. He still had time to get her home. Quite surprisingly, he was grateful that their daughters were not present, for the memory of their mother collapsing was not one he would want them to have with them for the rest of their lives.

Maneuvering her limp body up onto his back was a task almost too great for Tristan, especially with his lackluster physical strength, but he managed it. He was able to position her so that she was lying flat on her stomach, but due to her being almost the same size as him, her body was a heavy weight on his back. Grabbing hold of her arms, he glanced back at her one more time. He would have to pull both his weight and hers, but he would do so without any qualms.

"Hang on, Amelia," he whispered, as if she could hear him and respond, "Be strong."

While his first bright circle celebration hadn't been the most fantastic, there was one thing he was thankful for, and that was how the bright circle seemed to stay in the sky longer to light his way home.

So, Michael is reunited with his family at last, while the truth of Amelia's illness is finally out in the open. Guess we'll just have to see what becomes of her. The next chapter will focus on the celebration from other perspectives, such as that of the gang, and we'll also see Miriam's and Mackenzie's reactions to this fiasco.

Anyway, please review, and as always, have a good week!