The Mentor Position

The morning after leaving the Great Valley, Doc decided that it was time to start Littlefoot's training. He stood by a pool of bubbling sinking sand. The grey goo splattered near his and Littlefoot's feet as the old longneck towered over his much young student. "Okay, boy. From this day forward, you're gonna have to grow up fast. I have no time for childish games. Is that understood?"

Littlefoot nodded sharply.

"Good. Then lets begin." Doc bit down on Littlefoot's tail and lifted the youngster in the air. He set Littlefoot down, situating his feet on four different rock jutting from the sand. "I'm going to teach you, hopefully, how to block and dodge when you have no place to run." Doc lightly flicked his tail across the ground, gathering together small stones and pebbles. "I'm gonna throw these at you. Try to dodge them."

With a swift flick of his tail, Doc sent a pebble flying at Littlefoot. Littlefoot had only time enough for one reaction. He halfway screamed just before the rock struck his nose. "Ow!"

"I said dodge." Doc flicked another stone.

Littlefoot ducked this time as the rock flew past. "Ha, I did it!" Just as he turned back, another stone hit him in the leg. "AH!" He buckled from the impact just as another stone slammed against his neck.

Stunned and confused, Littlefoot lost his balance. He collapsed into the bubbling sinking sand. The thick goo pulled on his body, dragging him down towards oblivion. He struggled, kicking his legs and trashing about, but his struggling only pulled him down faster.

His lungs ached, they burned for air. All of a sudden, he felt a great force pulling him up. The burst from the black muck and gasped, drawing in much needed oxygen. He coughed and sputtered, spitting out the sandy sludge. Littlefoot looked up and saw Doc's goo covered head biting down on his tail. Doc had plunged his head in and rescued him.

Doc carried Littlefoot back over to solid ground and set the young longneck down. "Thanks." Littlefoot wheezed.

"Not exactly the best job I've ever seen." Doc remarked. "You need to keep your mind on the situation at hand, and not act like a little kid."

"But I am a little kid."

"Not anymore. You are a warrior, now. A fighter. You have to stay in a combat state of mind all the time." Doc said. He lifted Littlefoot back up and placed him back on the rocks in the sinking sand. "Now, try it again."

"What?" Littlefoot stumbled as he regained his balance. "Already? I almost died just now, and you want me to try again?"

"I will drill this into your head, no time to rest. Keep in mind who your eventual enemy is, the most dangerous sharptooth in existence. Don't worry to much; if you fall in again I will drag you back out and we will continue until you have it down so well, that you can fight with your eyes closed." Doc grinned.

Littlefoot sighed in despair.

Chomper sprinted as fast as his legs could carry him. His muscles ached, his chest burned. Behind him, Sharptooth charged. Gnashing teeth right on his tail. Chomper scrambled under a rock outcrop, too low for Sharptooth to follow. He thought he could be safe there. That was, until the rocks above him lifted away as Sharptooth tore the rock back with his jaws.

Chomper started to run again. The mountain of muscle and teeth continued the chase, shaking the earth with each footstep. Chomper glanced over his shoulder in terror. His foot struck a rock and he fell forward, crashing to the ground. Sharp points of pain shot through his face as he scrapped against the ground. He skid to a stop and groaned in pain.

Sharptooth stood over the young dinosaur, staring down at him. "Disappointing." Sharptooth grumbled. "Not very fast, nor are you very strong. I'm beginning to wonder if taking you as my disciple was a good idea, or if I should've just killed you." Sharptooth stepped away as Chomper got back to his feet.

"I just need to work more." Chomper said.

"I think I know where your weakness comes from." Sharptooth said. "You diet. You only ate bugs while in the valley, didn't you?" Chomper nodded. "I thought so. You need real meat. Meat is power, it fills you with the strength of the animal you killed."

"What do you mean?" Chomper asked.

"Didn't your parents teach you anything? By killing another creature and consuming it's flesh, you absorb its strength." Sharptooth turned back to Chomper. "You must make a kill."

"What?!"

"The more you kill, the more meat you eat, the stronger you'll become. It is that simple." Sharptooth said.

"I can't. I swore to Littlefoot and the others that I would never kill another dinosaur." Chomper pleaded.

"You cannot survive otherwise. I'd bet that you've started to feel it already, the hunger gnawing at your stomach. The bugs that used to satisfy you for hours now leave you feeling like you've not eaten at all. You are a predator, it is what you are and you cannot change that. The only way you can survive is by eating the bodies of other dinosaurs. No way around it."

"But I don't want to. I want to live alongside other dinosaurs. The whole world is afraid of us, and I want to change that." Chomper retorted. "I will never kill another dinosaur."

Sharptooth looked down at the tiny dinosaur standing before him. He snorted. "Very well. Then go about it alone." Sharptooth turned and started to walk away.

"Hey, where are you going? You can't leave me out here!" Chomper raced after Sharptooth.

"Sure I can. You're weak, your training has gone nowhere, and you don't take my advice. Besides, it'll be faster and easier for me to catch the longneck runt without dragging useless dead weight around." Sharptooth barreled away, his clawed feet pounding into the earth with each step, leaving poor Chomper behind in the dust.

"WAIT!" Chomper shouted, his feet scurried as fast as they could after Sharptooth. But the titanic dinosaur was gone. Chomper slowed to a stop; he panted and gasped for breath. He was already tired from the supposed training Sharptooth put him through earlier. And Sharptooth was right; Chomper's stomach felt empty.

Chomper glared in the direction Sharptooth ran off in. Fine, leave. He didn't need Sharptooth. Chomper knew Littlefoot's scent well enough he could follow him without the help of that oversized behemoth.

The tiny purple sharptooth sniffed the air and continued on his way. He walked along that way, following Littlefoot's scent for the next several hours. Eventually the sky began to turn orange as the great circle descended towards the mountains. Chomper rested up against the side of a rock, completely worn out. His stomach growled. "I know, tummy. I know you're hungry, but I don't have any food for you right now."

But he knew he would need food, having not eaten since leaving the valley. Chomper stood up again and started to search. He sniffed along, looking for bugs and other small things. He found a colony of grubs under a rotting log, but even so his stomach yearned for more. Sharptooth was right. Chomper needed more than bugs to live.

While searching, he saw the body of a young spike frill (A/N: Styracosaurus) laying motionless. Driven by hunger, Chomper made his way slowly towards it. When he came to stand over it, he stopped. He swore to Littlefoot and his friends that he would never kill another dinosaur. And it just didn't seem right. He didn't want to become like Sharptooth, a merciless creature that lived only to destroy and kill, taking strength from others. But his belly ached for food. And besides, this dinosaur was already dead. He could eat something that dies on its own.

Chomper opened his mouth and bit down on the spike frill. Instantly the creature jolted up, screaming and wailing, kicking in all directions. Chomper pulled back, releasing the small dinosaur. It took off and ran away into the darkness. Chomper's heart raced. It was only asleep, not dead. He panted, calming himself down. As he began to turn away the ground under his feet started to rumble. This rumbling wasn't from an earthshake, this was more like footsteps. Many, many footsteps.

He looked back over his shoulder and his blood ran cold. And entire herd of spike frills came charging out of the shadows of the rocks. Over twenty full sized dinosaurs charged for Chomper, their huge horns all aimed right for him. Chomper screamed and started to run. His legs burned as he sprinted, kicking up a trail of dust in his wake, but the spike frills stayed right on his tail. He gasped for breath, struggling to keep himself going. But the spike frills would not give up their chase.

Chomper zigged and zagged though the maze of rocks, but no matter where he turned the stampeding dinosaurs would not let his escape. Chomper made a quick turn around a jutting rock and skid to a stop. His escape route was blocked. A dead end of dusty brown rocks. The snorting of the spike frills behind him caused Chomper's heart to pound in his chest. He backed up until his back was literally against the wall. No where to run, no where to hide.

The spike frills charged.

Chomper couldn't turn away from the impending doom. All his attention was focused on the pointed horn aimed right for him. He was going to die. He knew it. He closed his eyes and winced, awaiting the pain that would come.

As the lead spike frill came close, a dark shadow loomed overhead. It grew larger, falling over both Chomper and the plant-eater. Suddenly the spike frill's legs caved under it as the shadow caster crashed on its back, digging in claws and teeth. The herbivore cried out in pain. Chomper dared to open his eyes. The spike frill thrashed about with another large dinosaur on its back.

Sharptooth.

Sharptooth locked his jaws closed and yanked his head back, tearing a chunk of flesh from the plant-eaters back. The spike frill hollered in pain. Sharptooth quickly swallowed the meat before bringing his jaws to the creature's throat. With a sharp jerk, he tore the flesh away and kicked the dying animal aside. Sharptooth turned to the rest of the herd, which now stood in complete silence and fear.

The still warm blood dribbled down the face of Sharptooth. A growl developed in his throat and he bellowed a roar at the standing herd. They turned to run, but Sharptooth gave chase. He leapt into the air, coming down on the back of another spike frill. Again he dug in his claws and tore at its flesh.

The terrible carnivore moved from one dinosaur to the neck, his teeth and claws bringing death to each one. All Chomper could do was watch in horror and the entire herd fell to Sharptooth's strength. Repulsed, but unable to turn away, Chomper watched as Sharptooth held the last adult in the herd up by its neck. The spike frill struggled and kicked, squealing for its life. Sharptooth clenched his jaws and the horrible sound of snapping bone filled the air. The spike frill fell limp.

Chomper coward along the rock wall. Before him the field of death. A single survivor, the young spike frill. Paralyzed with fear. Sharptooth stepped over to the dinosaur and flicked it with his tail, sending the little creature to Chomper's feet. "Kill it."

"What?"

"That's the whole reason you got in trouble, isn't it? It would be a waste now not to. From now on, you only eat what you kill. I killed all these dinosaurs, but you've killed nothing. If you want to eat anything, you will kill that hatchling." Sharptooth then began to feed on the carcasses.

The hatchling spike frill shivered in fear. Chomper looked down, sorrowful at the poor desperate creature. With a quite whisper in leaf-eater speak, he said, "I'm sorry," and closed his jaws over the hatchling's throat, suffocating it.