Aight. I'mma go pass out.
Chapter 5
Countdown
[E.T.A.: 03:45:06]
~Look for sharpteeth ... Look for sharpteeth ... Look how The Bright Circle shines through Dawn's wings. Like she's glowing ... No! Focus! Hm, a lot of flying nibblers down there. Not important. Examine likely hiding places: bounders, under trees, bushes ... flowers ... pretty ... Dawn's not that kind of pretty. She's beyond pretty. Never knew such bright colours could exist ... look at her ... NO, NO, NO! LOOK AT ANYTHING BUT DAWN! But how? She's leading the way! Wait, no. We're circling now. Gotta let the others catch up. Eyes on them, their surroundings, their-~
"Hi again, Petrie."
Dawn's voice completely blindsided him.
~*Mental screaming*~ Petrie almost dropped. ~HOW SHE GET SO CLOSE AND ME NOT NOTICE?~
"H-h-hi ..." Petrie stammered. "M-m-me Petrie." ~*Mental face slap*~
"Dawn. It's nice to meet you," she played along pleasantly. "I realise I was a bit presumptuous. A guy like you is bound to have someone waiting for him after missions ... right?"
"Um ... of course!" he fumbled. "Me have family, friends ... family ..."
Dawn stopped flapping, gliding with ethereal grace and a touch of trepidation. "And ... no one else?"
He gulped and squeaked an answer. "Nope."
She resumed flapping, muscles relaxing. "Great!"
The movement was sudden and smooth. Then she playfully darted off. Petrie's addled mind almost missed it, but he sure felt it.
~Why'd the side of my face get a little warm? Did she just PECK ME CHEEK?!~
~*Mental white noise*~
"Petrie! What happened?" that sounded like Ducky.
"He fell right out of the sky!" Ah, Littlefoot: always such a caring friend.
"It's my fault! I didn't know that would happen!" Dawn's lovely voice was unmistakable, even in the form of loud whimpering.
"HAAAHAHAHAHAHA!" Cera's cackling? Not so lovely. Did she have to be so raucous about it?
Petrie slowly opened his eyes. Why did the ground look to be one beak away from his face? Why did it feel as though Littlefoot's tail had wrapped around him, halting some kind of nose dive? Oh ... probably because that's exactly the way it was.
"What happened?" mumbled Petrie before his eyes widened in recall.
Dawn waved her wings frantically as if to fan away the memory. "Nothing! Forget about it! Just ... just focus on the mission and I'll stay out of your way!" She desperately looked about for another subject. "Uh, where'd the green guy go?"
"You mean Spike?" asked Ducky. "He went ahead of us to bush bathe."
Dawn squinted. "... Say what now?"
"Rubbing against a specific mix of bushes to make his smell blend with green food," Ducky proudly explained. "We're all good at it, but he's the best, he is! First to find them, first to bathe."
"Does it usually take this long?" Dawn asked.
Ducky's smile vanished. She turned and gazed into the dense foliage.
"Spike? Spike?" called the swimmer.
No answer. Not a sound, even from the multitude of flying nibblers bedecking the trees ... all around them ... staring ... If Littlefoot had fur, every strand would stand on end.
As if of one mind, the three giants turned back to back and scanned their surroundings.
Petrie took to the air in rising circles, scrutinising the greenery alongside Pterano.
Dawn followed suit. ~Just out of the valley, already on the defense. Not a good start for a rescue.~
'Spike's' anguished cry broke the silence.
Ducky raced towards it. "SPIK-!"
The call froze in her throat as she halted halfway through a step.
Her 'brother's' yell repeated with greater desperation. Ducky took a step back, peering into the greenery that surrendered no secrets.
"Why'd you stop?" asked Cera.
"Because I do not know what is in there," Ducky explained.
A knot of annoyance and underlying dread formed in Cera's chest. "What kind of-? Spike's in there, screaming his head off, and you're just gonna-!"
"That is not Spike."
There was no warning. 'Not Spike' was quick and quiet. Even the leaves scarcely whispered as it streaked from the bushes, towards Ducky, through Ducky, before a well-timed meeting with Cera's horns sent it sprawling to the ground - a fast biter.
Dawn did a double take at the memory. Did that thing just move ... through Ducky? No. The swimmer herself had moved just enough to avoid him, but her sidestep was so smooth and subtle that it slipped even Dawn's keen eyes. She imagined the sharptooth would be as confused as she, had he still been conscious.
"Just one little biter?" Cera scoffed. "That's stupid."
Littlefoot's instincts screamed the contrary. "No ... they're not stupid ... and there's never just on-"
Intuition? Intelligence? A sound? A feel of footfalls on the ground? Littlefoot didn't know what clued him in, but he felt it coming.
His tail whipped into the air, snatching one of three fast biters leaping at his back while he swayed away so that the others fell short. The moment they hit the ground, he'd hurled the captive biter onto a comrade before the other flew back at the snap of his tail.
"There!" Petrie shouted.
Littlefoot glanced at the flyer, traced his gaze. His tail blazed forth and struck the greenery. Trunks split. Bushes exploded. Four fast biters flew back by his might, hidden no longer, conscious no more.
It happened in the barest fraction of a moment.
The next split second found the flying nibblers squawking a panicked clamour that masked the rustle of figures rushing from the bushes.
First among those figures shot for Ducky. He pounced, claws poised. She shifted, not by much. He touched her. He knew he'd touched her, but the way she flowed out of the strike ... like water ... his slash scarcely skimmed her skin. The swimmer seamlessly seized him from the side mid-pounce. Her grip was like a river. Though fluid to the touch, its course, its force. She moved with his momentum, bent it smoothly. He found his lunge redirected to the ground.
That was when the pounce ended in a body slam.
She was rolling to her feet when a second blur charged her at an angle. His leap scarcely left the ground before Pterano came down on him like sky fire.
The flyer returned to the air without a word, but time seemed to slow as he caught sight of Ducky beaming her appreciation. It meant more to his guilt-ridden soul than he could expect, but the moment would not be dwelt upon.
Battle was no respecter of moments.
The underbrush was alive with speedy creatures, clawed and cunning, whose stealthily zigzagging movements were impossible to preempt until too late.
At least, in theory.
Littlefoot's tail was lightning, striking fast biters hither and thither. Grounded or mid-air it didn't matter. One pounced past his onslaught. He didn't care. Petrie crashed into the predator talons first. A powerful peck to the skull and the biter dropped, unconscious.
Cera frowned at the five fast biters dashing her way. She hated fighting these guys: too swift to easily run down and too wily to simply smash. It forced her to think things through more carefully than she cared to.
Not that she wasn't wily in her own way.
Cera identified the one who led the charge and angled a horn to greet him no matter where he moved. He charged her head on and subtly decelerated while the others split to flank her. Predictable. Did they take her for a dumb beast? Well, she supposed it would have worked on most threehorns. Why break the tradition of tried and true techniques? Her philosophy was different.
If it ain't broke, break it.
Leading Fast Biter One made as though to pounce. He stopped just short. Yup. Predictable.
Fast Biter Two leapt from the left. She sharply shifted her weight towards him, pivoting slightly so that his claws awkwardly collided with her hardened scales. Some broke on contact as he smashed into her, not that the knocked out raptor would be whining about it for a while.
Fast Biter Three lunged for her right leg simultaneously. Cera lifted it at the last second. His teeth caught nothing but air before she brought the foot down on his head. Despite non-lethal force, she wouldn't be surprised if his jaw had broken.
Never did she break eye contact with Fast Biter One, never did her horn move from a position poised to skewer him.
Fast Biter Four, now there was a surprise. He'd bitten the same leg she lowered. She'd had her share of bites. After years of toughening her skin, most barely hurt. This one was no exception, but it felt ... funny. Her afflicted leg went a little limp.
Sensing her confusion, Fast Biter One darted to the side and made for her eyes at an angle.
A snappy flick of the horns sent him hurtling back, in no state to continue the fight. 'Confusion' did not equate to 'distraction'.
Now, what to do with Fast Biter Four, still latched to her leg? She didn't trust said leg to move as quickly as she'd like so long as the tenacious little thing was latched on. Cera simply decided to fall on top of him. She felt his grip break. Second thoughts? It was a tad too late. He had no one to blame but himself.
Cera didn't even flinch as a sixth attacker came her way. The tremour of footsteps told her of a certain longneck's change of position. His shadow revealed his intentions. She could practically feel him fulfilling her expectations. The biter didn't get far before being bashed to the ground by Littlefoot's tail.
Dawn had watched in amazement. These friends fought as though their very thoughts intertwined into the mind of one warrior, greater than the sum of its parts. Cera was right.
They were the best.
Dawn was uncertain of how to help without ruining their synergy, but she would learn quickly. She always did.
The fast biter who ambushed her insisted otherwise.
She was not familiar with the idea that these creatures could kick off a tree to gain extra height. The biter's weight sent her hurtling into the bushes. His jaws locked on and did their worst the moment they landed.
"DAWN!" Petrie shrieked, diving towards her.
Amid thick foliage, there was no way to tell what exactly befell Dawn, but it sounded bad. Horrifically bad.
The biter lifted his head from a dark deed well done. One down. Such a satisfying little victory, even if the flyer tasted awful by the low standards of her species. Even if the remaining prey looked ready to fly at him. Good luck catching him in the underbrush! If they did, he would go down knowing he'd hurt them when others failed!
All at once, the prey stopped.
Petrie quietly perched atop a sturdy branch, peering down with eerie ire ... waiting, expecting.
The biter found himself taking a step back. Why weren't they attacking? Didn't they want revenge for-?
Screaming instincts brought his thoughts to a halt.
He practically felt the palpable, purple eyes on his back. Something was behind him, something big, something he shouldn't have missed.
And he was its prey.
The fast biter turned just in time to glimpse a flash of spiked tail before his world went black.
Silence fell over the flying nibblers.
With all threats resolved, Petrie's panic flared as he flitted to Dawn's side. He wasn't sure what he'd find, but her unmoving form with glassy eyes turned skyward was not an encouraging sight.
"You okay?!" he asked against all hope.
"Uh huh," she answered simply.
Petrie stiffened in shock. 'Uh huh?' 'Uh huh?' And she sounded lackadaisical? Maybe vaguely irritated? He grappled for the appropriate response.
"Gurl, ya just got MAULED!" Cera barked.
Yup. That sounded about right.
"Eh, I wouldn't say 'mauled'," Dawn corrected, tilting her wing indecisively. "He just twisted my neck a little, I think. I kinda spaced out for a second, there ..."
Cera choked on her words. "Y-y ... You 'spaced out' in the middle of a mauling?"
"Not a 'mauling'. Just a neck twist," Dawn repeated.
"Do you even HEAR yourself?" demanded Cera.
Petrie rushed to help her up before fervently checking for injuries. The marks on her throat validated her claim while compounding the conundrum. They were so faint, barely even bruises.
"I am certain he wouldn't have relented had he thought you were still alive," Pterano reasoned.
"I'm notoriously bad at dying," Dawn joked with a dry smirk. "Clearly he didn't do as good a job as he thought."
Petrie checked for signs of head trauma.
"I didn't bump my noggin. I'm fine," she asserted.
"Then what's bothering you?" Petrie persisted softly.
She couldn't help but smile with a small croon. "My ego's a little bruised, that's all, but it's sweet of you to ask."
It was then when Petrie forgot how to breathe. No surprise when her mesmerising eyes were locked with his in close proximity. Of course, 'no surprise' didn't mean 'less life-threatening'. He attempted to extricate his gaze from hers. His body refused to cooperate. Vaguely, Petrie was aware of Cera laughing in the background. That mattered little when he was on the verge of suffocation. He slapped himself across the face. No luck snapping out of it. Another slap liberated him and he gulped much needed air.
Dawn looked equal parts sympathetic, amused and disappointed.
Mercifully, Ducky decided to break the awkward moment. "Soooo, is it me, or do fast biters always attack me first? It is really annoying."
"They think you're the easiest target," Littlefoot replied.
"Oh? Just because I am the smallest besides Petrie, but I have no wings, no horns, long tail or spike tail?" Ducky asked smirkingly.
She approached the only fast biter still semi-conscious, stooping just out of snapping range. "Is that it, Mr. Biter? Do you think I am an easy target?"
He blinked groggily, then growled at the innocent-looking creature that had somehow bested him: Bratty piece of meat!
She pouted, rose to her feet and turned to leave. The fast biter relished her apparent displeasure. That ended when her tail walloped him across the head as she completed her turn. Ducky feigned clueless surprise as she looked back to see the fast biter knocked senseless.
Cera's chortling confirmed a distraction well executed.
"Say, why are you lying on your side?" asked Ducky.
Cera frowned before climbing to her feet, revealing a twitching fast biter squished beneath her. Albeit alive, he'd no doubt seen better days.
Littlefoot winced. "What did he do to deserve several long moments of ... that?"
Cera experimentally stretched her right leg. "It's kinda embarrassing. He bit me in a funny way. It almost made my leg feel like it was going to sleep. To be honest, I wasn't sure if I could stand without wobbling, so I stayed down and made him pay in the process."
"He must have bitten a pressure point," Dawn supposed.
They stared at her.
"Um, see, when you apply pressure to specific points on the body, it can incapacitate an individual," Dawn explained. "I know because I taught myself how to do that, mostly to flyers ... extensively."
Petrie inched away from her.
"The biter who jumped me used some pressure points to stop me from fighting back," Dawn went on. "That's the only reason why I didn't peck his eye out."
Petrie inched away all the more.
"We just call them 'weak spots'," Littlefoot added. "Doc taught us some, but they're hard to hit in the heat of a battle."
"Funny ..." Cera contemplated. "The only fast biter to land a hit on me got my pressure point no problem."
The true gravity of the threat struck Littlefoot. "They've never done this before ... Dawn, are these the biters who attacked your herd?"
She shrugged. "I didn't think so. Those ones were sort of incompetent. The biggest thing they had going for them was their numbers. It shouldn't be a problem for you guys."
"... Yes ... we would have underestimated them ... until it was too late," Littlefoot theorised.
The graveness in his voice drew the others' full attention.
"You've faced the 'sort of incompetent' and super competent in one day?" Littlefoot asked. "Guys, I think this is a trap."
[E.T.A.: 03:12:31]
Beta Ssavi hissed: So, they'd figured out it was a 'TrAp'? These leafeaters were a bone in her craw already!
Alpha Arrtafiss reassured her with purr: They knew it was a trap, though all crucial details eluded them. Their first taste of The Clever Claws was nothing but a paw full of measly omegas. The more they learnt, the more they'd realise how hopeless their situation was.
Ssavi voiced agreement, but that wasn't what bothered her. It was how they acted as though such a relevant revelation had fallen into their paws, as if their lives were a legend of old in which all the pieces came together in their favour because they were supposed to win. What did they expect? The Circle of Life would bend over backwards so that they always found a way 'iF tHeY HeLd On ToGeThEr'? Forget the stuff of legends! It sounded more like some inane story the hatchlings would tell each other!
Arrtafiss throbbed.
She shot him a glare: What was so funny?
He quelled her anger with a nuzzle. It was funny, he explained, that she'd voiced his thoughts so accurately ... albeit at a comically high volume.
Ssavi throbbed back and returned the nuzzle. Suddenly, her once affectionate jaws were around his neck.
He remained perfectly still, waiting for the apparent non sequitur to end.
In the absence of resistance, her attack instinct subsided. She removed her teeth and stepped back, suffering a moment of awkward eye contact.
A curious Arrtafiss asked what triggered this particular antic?
Ssavi cleared her throat and explained that she took offense after he called her 'comical'. Her reaction was delayed ... and she was hangry. She crooned an apology.
Arrtafiss brushed it off: Females had a tendency to do these things in her condition. He was getting used to it. Rationale aside, it was amusing.
Ssavi's erratic temper flared: She was a living embodiment of death! 'Amusing' was a wildly inappropriate description!
Arrtafiss bit back a smirk.
The beta turned with a huff and began to depart.
Where was she going, inquired Arrtafiss?
Ssavi glared back at him. Mauling Arrtafiss was a bad idea for several pesky reasons, she explained. However, instinct demanded that she maul something. Therefore, she would depart with the final hunting party and shred a valley brat or two. She was craving swimmer, anyway.
Arrtafiss tilted his head: 'Final hunting party'? What made her think he was spreading his forces thin in such a manner?
Ssavi scoffed: it was obvious. There was no way Arrtafiss trusted second paw information on the leafeaters from The Hunters' Bond. He'd want a more fresh and thorough analysis of their abilities before the final confrontation. Besides, he'd want to gnaw away at their confidence before the final encounter. Therefore, he would have set up a few minor ambushes in their path. He had more than enough biters to spare some hunting parties ... speaking of which, why didn't he tell her about them?
The alpha throbbed: He knew she'd join a hunting party if he told her, which was not advisable in her state. Though the leafeaters overestimated themselves, they were a moderate threat. Nonetheless, he enjoyed watching her figure things out on her own.
She snorted: Good. Win win, then. She would partake in one of the short range attacks, withdraw via the designated shortcuts and meet up with him at the final hunting ground ... assuming her party hadn't finished off the leafeaters already. The loss of the swimmer would destabilise the prey, rendering them less effective. After all, their longneck leader handled loss poorly. It wouldn't be hard to collect what remained of the swimmer at such a distance.
Arrtafiss bobbed a nod: And what made her think she was qualified to make such a decision after mere three years a Clever Claw?
Ssavi's death glare slowly turned upon him: Was there something about triggering her that he enjoyed?
Arrtafiss throbbed: Yes. All part of the amusement. Jokes aside, she had his approval.
As if she needed his approval in the first place, Ssavi snarled! Oh, and she'd save some good morsels for him, she chirped!
Watching her leave, Arrtafiss sighed. He was looking forward to getting his claws dirty. With Ssavi inbound, the leafeaters would never make it that far ... and he might as well forget about those morsels.
[E.T.A.: 03:05:58]
"So sharpteeth prefer swimmers?" Ducky asked.
"I am sure preferences vary and there are other choices they find quite palatable," Pterano answered from above. "But generally speaking, yes."
Spike's face darkened mildly.
Ducky frowned. "Well, that sucks. Why did Chomper not tell me this?"
"I suppose he deemed it an uncomfortable subject," Pterano reasoned.
"That makes sense," Ducky shrugged.
Scarcely had she absorbed that disturbing fact before she was humming 'Don't Step on a Crack or You'll Fall and Break Your Back'. Despite her risky means of movement, Pterano doubted she'd fall and break anything. For the better part of his life, he held the belief that flyers were masters of motion. The prowess required to navigate the heavens was sure to surpass any challenge posed by the land.
He'd failed to take swimmers into account.
Of course, most swimmers of Ducky's kind merely paddled the surface. Compared to water breathers, they scarcely scratched the surface when it came to maneuvering the dimensions of the deep. Ducky was a different story. He'd seen the swimmer conquer the rapids, the way she leapt and pushed off wet rocks while darting down the river as though it were second nature. Inadvertently, that made her a master of land locomotion, which was simple by comparison. She maneuvered the jungle and all its obstacles with uncanny agility a tickly fuzzy could envy. In a few words, there was nothing special about what she did. She jumped, she walked, she ran. She was quick for her size, but not absurdly so. It was the way she did it: how easily she vaulted boulders; trotted atop fallen tree trunks and roots; hopped between rocks and made vital little twists mid-step or mid-leap. Most of her movements were small but meaningful. Even what looked like tumbling landings were calculated rolls upon further inspection. Smoothly alternating between four legs, three legs and an upright stance, she understood the flow of motion in ways he'd have to see to believe. She knew what every part of her body was doing at any given moment, and how it related to her surroundings. To top it off?
She wasn't even trying.
What once took focus was mere child's play for a swimmer who'd forgotten how easy it was to break a bone in a nasty fall. Of course, stone scales and a conditioning-hardened skeleton decreased that risk significantly. He chuckled at the thought that these youngsters made a leisurely lifestyle out of death-defying feats. Still, he had to wonder ...
"Ducky, does this revelation concern you?" asked Pterano.
"What?" she asked, hopping a zigzag between a slanted tree, a rock and a small hill. "Oh, that sharpteeth like swimmers?" She paused atop a narrow perch, her perkiness sobering slightly. "I do feel bad about the swimmers who found out the hard way ... but even if I were in trouble, that poor sharptooth would be getting-"
A fast biter burst from the bushes.
Ducky dove to the ground and he sailed over her, only to get savagely swatted by Spike before he hit the ground.
Spike's purple eyes darted across the greenery, spotting what no one else could. His tail flashed through the bushes with savage speed, sifting hidden biters before they managed a reaction. The vegetation did nothing to slow him. He stormed through the foliage like a mighty wind, one with the underbrush.
His rampage ended as quickly as it began and the jungle was silent once more. No one had the chance to lift a horn, tail, talon or paw. No one had to.
Ducky giggled hugged her brother. "Yep, yep, yep! They'd be getting that!"
"Mm hm," Spike grunted grimly, though her affection brought a smile to his face.
~And a face full of talons, should the green whirlwind fail,~ Pterano mentally added. "Dawn, do you recall that obstruction down there situated impregnably?"
Dawn wrinkled her brow. "What in the-? Oh, you mean those boulders blocking the path? Pretty sure they weren't there before. This might be a problem ..."
"Dawn, relax!" Cera urged. "A couple boulders got nothing on these horns."
Upon rounding a corner, the leafeaters laid eyes on said mound of stone heaped times higher than Littlefoot's eye level.
"Unless that 'couple' had kids," Petrie jested dryly.
Dawn burst into laughter in spite of the situation. The longneck joined her, although there was a bitter touch to his chuckles. "Oh, those fast biters are good!"
Cera looked skeptical. "You think they did this?"
"Forcing us to take the longest, most convoluted route, running ourselves ragged to get there in time," Littlefoot added.
"Okay, how can you be sure?" persisted Cera.
"We've been here dozens of times over the years," Littlefoot explained. "Those rocks endured big earthquakes and everything, yet the one day we're really in a hurry, not one, but two landslides block the best paths? Look at the way they fell. Stone that sturdy doesn't just collapse like that. Those fast biters must have been planning this for weeks."
Cera pawed at the soil. "... Alright, but my statement stands. Give me some room, guys."
Littlefoot blocked her with his tail. "At best, you'll risk breaking a horn. At worst, they'll just collapse on top of you."
Cera sighed. "Fine. Any better ideas?"
As if on cue, a pair of apparently playful flying nibblers darted to the base of the rocks and began flitting to the top, stone by stone, chasing each other with joyous chitters.
Cera stepped forward. "Well, there's our answer. We climb it."
Spike and Ducky followed. Littlefoot was opening his mouth to argue when Cera stopped and paused ponderously.
"... Of course, Ducky could make the climb," Cera began. "The rest of us would probably fall and break our everything. The nibblers can fly, which made it look easy, giving us the idea that we could do it too ... right, Littlefoot?"
The longneck was at a loss. He finally managed a chuckle. "Is my 'paranoia' that transparent?"
"For me? Eeyup," Cera confirmed. "But after seeing 'The Bending Black'? The notion of nibblers subtly trying to kill us actually sounds sane."
Petrie smiled smugly. "Well, well, well, my gut prejudice was spot on."
"I do not follow. Why would nibblers try to kill us?" asked Ducky.
"Out here, they are scavengers," Pterano explained. "Our untimely demise would feed them for days to come."
The thought made Cera grimace. "Too bad for them, then. Any detours in mind, Littlefoot?"
"This was the detour," he replied, "but I'm working on it."
Littlefoot closed his eyes and delved into the depths of his mind, scanning every cranny of the local Mysterious Beyond in his memory. Finally, he landed on a solution. The only solution.
"Okay, it's risky," he began. "We'll have to move fast, but we'll make it if we head through Belly Dragger Bog."
Cera winced. "As ... horrible as that childhood experience was, I barely even remember how to get there. Weren't we lost at the time?"
"Yeah," Littlefoot confirmed as he hurried for their new destination, "but I remember the way."
"How?" Cera pressed, following the longneck.
"I can remember pretty much anything if I dig deep enough," Littlefoot explained. "Even stuff that happened before we learnt Advanced Imagination. It's like the mind trick reaches back to every part of my life ... at least, for me."
Dawn's jaw loosened as she hastened after him. "That's crazy! What's it like?"
"Sometimes? It literally does feel crazy," Littlefoot smiled.
"For me, it's the opposite of most people," Dawn went on. "I can't remember the majority of my childhood unless I have to, or choose to ... and I don't want to, so I don't choose to."
"And with that, Dawn officially replaced Ruby," Cera joked.
"Who's Ruby?" asked Dawn.
"... Wh ... what about your parents ...?" Petrie chanced.
Dawn sighed. "I remember them, sure, up to a certain point. Kinda wish I didn't. That way, I wouldn't have to miss them. They're probably okay, but I never managed to find them again."
"How did you get separated?" asked Petrie.
It came and went in a fleeting flash, but the hollow horror behind Dawn's eyes sent chills down Petrie's spine.
Her smile returned as though it never left. "I don't remember."
[E.T.A.: 02:26:09]
...
[Recalculating ...]
...
[E.T.A.: 02:13:54]
The odious, oppressive atmosphere and ambient promise of danger were part and parcel of Belly Dragger Bog's grim, grimy charm. Its ambience was such that everything within its miasma seemed to take on a dank, mossy green. It was enough to dampen even the most avid adventurer's attitude. Woe to the souls drawn to its swill by hapless necessity or reckless insanity. Swimmer though she was, Ducky balked at the idea of wading such waters, even if simply to avoid the murky muck.
She looked up at Littlefoot with big, blue eyes not to be denied.
Littlefoot chuckled. "I was gonna ask if you wanted a lift, anyway."
Ducky's face lit up. "Yes, yes, yes, please!" She climbed onto the longneck's back as they trudged into the sludge. "Do not think that your kindness will stop me from doing my duty as a swimmer, though."
A smirking Littlefoot looked back at her. "And what duty is that?"
"Guiding you through the water, of course!" she explained before scrunching her face. "If you can even call this water. It may be muddy, but I can tell well enough how deep it is at each part."
"Really? How?" asked Littlefoot.
She shrugged. "It's obvious if you are a swimmer. You can just see the difference, even if that difference is hard to see."
"Aaand we have another Ruby," Cera bantered. "Careful, Dawn. Ducky's pushing hard for your position."
"Is Ruby a fast runner by any chance?" asked Dawn. "I'm guessing she talks in circles."
"Clever deduction!" Cera praised. "More than a pretty face, huh Petrie, you lucky boy?"
Bashfulness seemed to contort Petrie's beak, impossible though that was.
Ducky pointed. "The water is not too deep over here, so you shouldn't have to ... Cera, stay calm. You can see it, right?"
"See what?" asked Cera, slightly turning to the swimmer so that her neck was in just the worst position possible.
"Uh oh ..." Ducky mumbled.
Cera heard the form erupt from the water and began to turn just in time to see it at the side of her eye. A light green blur bounded from the other corner of her vision.
Ducky had dove unto the belly dragger with a titanic splash, inches before its jaws reached Cera's neck. It whirled into a death roll, attempting to throw off the swimmer clinging to its back. Deciding she didn't like that very much, Ducky planted her feet on the swamp's slimy floor, halting the belly dragger, hoisting it into the air and releasing it just long enough to double-paw strike its stomach.
The belly dragger flew back and smashed into the water with an astonishingly unsharptooth-like cry.
"You'll pay for that, brat!" snapped the belly dragger.
Ducky put a thoughtful paw to her chin. A talking belly dragger? Where had she heard that voice before? It clicked quickly enough.
"Hi, Dilly!" Ducky chirped. "How have you been?"
The belly dragger flinched, mildly confused by the friendly greeting. "I, uh ... it's 'Dil'. I'm surprised you simple food folk can remember me at all. Mmm, you've grown somethin' fierce! That's mighty good eatin', almost worth the years' wait!"
"Personally, I am surprised you can see me well enough to say that," replied an unfazed Ducky. "Where is your sharpbeak friend? 'Itch', was it?
Dil found herself chuckling. "'Itch'? Heh heh, suits the jerk, but who needs him? I've been seein' just fine without Ichy since I got my claws on a black miracle."
"A 'black miracle'? What's that?" asked Littlefoot.
"At first, fuzzy glance, nothin' special," Dil replied. "Then that ugly lil' blur of a stone bursts into cold flames that bathe ya inside and out. Hurts like death, but when it's over, you feel more alive than ever! Honestly, I'm not even sure I can die anymore. Sad part is nothin's free. If ya got a black miracle, you can expect The Bond to demand your allegiance."
"What is 'The Bond'?" Littlefoot inquired.
Dil laughed. "Y'know, I'd tell ya more, but my new followers are in position, so ..."
Over a dozen belly draggers surged from the murky mire too close for comfort. Six latched onto Littlefoot's ankles. Four found Cera's neck and forelegs. One lunged at Spike's head while two flanked him.
"... I say we just eatcha!" Dil finished.
Intensity narrowed Spike's sleepy eyes. Her jerked back. Jaws fruitlessly snapped before him. Quick flicks of the tail dealt with the attackers on either side. Adopted by swimmers, he was no stranger to the intricacies of movement amid shallow water. For the others, it was merely a matter of their training.
Good training.
Littlefoot's fast footwork dislodged the ankle-biters and proceeded to pound them into the mud. More were incoming, but his tail kept them at bay, sending mighty waves raging across the swamp with every sweep.
"Get OFF me!" Cera snarled, giving the belly draggers the struggle of their lives.
"What is wrong with you belly draggers?" Dil yelled. "The longneck should be crippled! The threehorn should be suffocating!"
One of Littlefoot's victims came crashing beside her, hissing his dazed excuse.
"Whaddya mean their scales are too tough?" Dil demanded. "Hey! Hey! Are you passing out on me? Wake up and do my dirty work! Eep?"
Arms around her neck truncated that rant.
"We are in a hurry," stated the swimmer who had headlocked her. "Tell your 'followers' to leave us alone and we will do the same. I would hate to embarrass you more in front of them."
Dil snarled. "You think a little hug is gonna make me-? Grk!"
"This 'little hug' has put a lot of big, bad belly draggers to sleep," Ducky teased, tightening her grip. "Now call them off, or it is nap time!"
Normally, Dil would have dismissed that as pure nonsense. The swimmer would tire long before she needed air. Then the wooziness set in as lack of circulation took its toll. The chill of fear seized her as though those constrictive arms were the jaws of a predator.
"I. SAID. GET. OFF ME!" Cera roared.
The threehorn raged into a vicious roll that tore all jaws from her hide, half-flattening their owners.
Hesitation halted the remaining attackers. Seeing prey use their own technique against them was ... freaky, to say the least.
Ducky felt Dil's strength waning, accompanied croaking, choking whines. It was hard not to feel bad for the belly dragger.
"I am going to let you breathe a bit," Ducky informed. "When I do that, you will tell your friends to stop, okay?"
Ducky loosened her headlock.
"NO! And I ain't goin' down like this!" Dil shrieked as she thrashed with every iota of her energy.
Much to her surprise, she broke free and flopped into the swamp, drained and panting.
"Okay!" Ducky cheerfully agreed. "You are going down like that!"
"Wuh-?" was all Dil could manage before Spike's tail hammered her, sending a shockwave of water fleeing from the belly dragger.
Spike's baleful eyes snapped to the enemies still conscious. They turned tail and took off with much frantic splashing.
Littlefoot exhaled as the tension ebbed from his muscles. "Come on. We've wasted enough time here."
[E.T.A.: 01:23:17]
Faint fatigue and mild muscle burn afflicted Dawn's wings. It was little more than a nuisance. If not mindful, she could easily forget that others didn't share her impeccable stamina. However, she was mindful. A quick scan of her companions validated her concerns.
Petrie's panting was plainly audible. Pterano hid his exhaustion well, but there was no missing the strain in his movements.
Below her, the leafeaters fluctuated between a brisk walk and a light run, mouths agape for air. Nonetheless, there was a fierce determination behind their every action.
"We should stop," Dawn more instructed than suggested.
Littlefoot shook his head. "We've fought sharpteeth in much more sorry states."
"Not these ones," debated Dawn. "I guesstimate they're at least eight hundred strong. If they're as competent as they seem to be, then-"
"I'm sorry Dawn, eight hundred?" Cera repeated. "Ya think maybe you coulda told us that before?"
"I ... I said it was a huge pack ..." Dawn squeaked.
"Alright, let's rest up," Littlefoot decided. "Spike, could you find something sweet to bring our strength up?"
Spike nodded and led the way. In no time, they came upon a tree laden with sweets ripe for the munching.
"It's not even upwind ..." gawked Cera. "Spike, how do you always find these things?"
Spike could have told her about the songs of the green food, but that would lead to questions for which he had no answer. Instead, he grunted something approximating an 'I dunno'.
Cera rolled her eyes. "And here I expected a chattier reply. Way to blow my mind, Spike."
( ( Eat something. It will fix your attitude. ) )
The stunned look on her face? Priceless. Totally worth the earth whisper.
"My 'attitude' is merited, thank you very much!" Cera barked. "Since when were you this sassy?"
He left her hanging with a smile that would have earned a headbutt, had she not been exhausted.
Cera's anger deflated. "You hit your words-per-day limit, didn't you?"
He shrugged a 'probably' as he headed for the tree of sweets, salivating by the time he reached it. He positioned himself to strike the tree and let rain its bounty.
Several weights met his back.
He felt claws. He felt teeth. He felt his legs give out beneath him. Despite the surprise, Spike had the presence of mind to guard his head with semi-limp forelimbs promptly pried, scratched and bitten in systematic attempts to reach his face. They breached his defenses and he felt the sting of jaws on his neck when the whoosh and crack of Littlefoot's tail thundered about him. All actively inflicted pain was gone, leaving residual discomfort. Even in his disoriented state, Spike discerned a salient point.
Most of their claws, teeth and weights disappeared before Littlefoot struck.
"Spike! Are you okay?" came Ducky's muddled voice.
Spike blinked bewilderedly. Upon digesting the situation, his face hardened. ~No, Ducky. I am not okay. There are some things you simply do not do. Violating the sanctity of snack time is one of them. Those fast biters are pure evil. Their punishment shall be quick and severe. Where are they?~
He looked around to find the scene devoid of fast biters.
"They left when we stepped in," Littlefoot explained.
Spike raised an eyebrow.
"I could barely touch them," continued Littlefoot. "They detached and vanished into the bushes the second I attacked. These ones are different from the earlier fast biters. They're more responsive and organised, appearing and disappearing as one."
"But they had to have been waiting for us," Cera reasoned, "or watching us closely enough to know we were heading for the tree so they could beat us there. Since when could they climb like that, anyway? Petrie, Pterano, Dawn, how did you miss all those biters up there?"
"Fast biters have a strong aversion to tree sweets," Pterano explained. "One would not expect them to hide among such foods. Nonetheless, I should have noticed."
"Did you see where they went?" asked Cera.
The flyers exchanged awkward glances.
"Um ... no," Petrie replied.
"I'm afraid not," Pterano agreed.
"I tried, but I lost them when they hit the bushes," Dawn explained.
"We are still trying," assured Pterano. "I have spotted little more than faint signs of their departure."
"What's the point of eyes in the sky if you can't SEE anything?" Cera demanded.
"I shan't allow them to evade us again," Pterano promised.
"Same here," Petrie added.
"Ditto," declared Dawn.
Cera exhaled a growl. "Yeah, like that'll make a difference."
"I'm sure they'll do better, but it wasn't their fault," Littlefoot sighed. "Those biters clearly specialise in not being seen until they spring a trap. They just showed us how easy it is to take us down if we're not careful. Then they left. It feels like they're testing us while making a statement. They don't want to take us down until they're ready, probably when we're at the most convenient location. It's not like they can just carry big leafeaters like us to wherever the rest of the pack is."
Cera searched his eyes. "Do you really think we have a chance?"
Littlefoot looked at her.
"I mean, we're talking about hundreds of fast biters who found a way around our stone scales and training," Cera shrugged. "Maybe we should ... cut our losses, go home, see what happens and come back with more Valley Guard. It's not like The Voice told us The Bending Black would happen tonight, right? I know it's not like me to say this kind of thing, but ... there's literally no point in coming out here if no one makes it back."
Dawn opened her beak to argue, before closing it and rubbing her wing in self-consolation. As much as she refused to accept the loss of a single herd member, Cera had a point. Pushing them to their doom while she took refuge in the skies rang with something uncomfortably close to selfishness.
Littlefoot frowned. "Why'd you offer to come with me if giving up was an option?"
Cera stomped up to him in her best attempt to get in the face of a guy whose head was hopelessly higher than hers. "If we didn't come, there'd be no one to stop you from making the last mistake of your life!"
Longneck and threehorn locked unflinching gazes for what seemed to endure forever.
Finally, Littlefoot sighed and looked away, lowering himself to a restful position as he allowed the breeze susurrating in the trees to calm his nerves.
"Dawn, be honest. How's your stamina?" he asked.
"Mildly taxed, but otherwise fine," Dawn answered.
A winded Petrie and Pterano exchanged perplexed glances.
Littlefoot nodded. "Could you cover for the other flyers while they rest their wings?"
"Sure," she replied.
Reluctantly, Pterano and Petrie descended to perch in a sparsely leafy tree surely incapable of hiding fast biters.
Almost without thinking, the ground leafeaters lay on their stomachs in a circle, facing outwards so as to guard all angles, legs always poised for a rapid rise to action. Littlefoot leisurely batted the tree with his tail, sending down a rain of sweets his flightless friends began to eat.
"Hey Dawn, heads up ... or down, more accurately," Littlefoot warned. "I'm gonna throw you a couple tree sweets."
Her response was delayed. He almost wondered if she'd heard him.
"Mm ..." she hummed in thought. "No thanks. I'm good."
Littlefoot dubiously knit his brow at the peculiar flyer before shrugging and tossing tree sweets to Petrie and Pterano between taking bites of his own.
The ache of their muscles subsided somewhat as the minutes passed.
Ducky's giggling broke the silence.
Her friends' curious eyes fell upon her.
"Remember when you guys used me as bait to lure Sharptooth into the water hole?" she laughed. "I cannot believe I agreed to that!"
Littlefoot winced a smile. "I can't believe we made you do it. You were so tiny ..."
"We were all tiny, some less than others," Petrie added. "And yet ... that day we beat Sharptooth."
Though Dawn's eyes focused on their surroundings, her ears were rapt with interest. It seemed they had a long history of doing the impossible.
"Remember when we took down a sharptooth with a big ball of white ground sparkles?" recounted Petrie.
"What is it with us and pushing large objects on sharpteeth?" Littlefoot asked in chuckle.
"As Cera would say 'If it is not broken, break it'!" Ducky chortled.
"I don't say it like that," Cera flatly corrected.
"Point still stands, though," Petrie stated. "If you can deal with a sharptooth without touching, always take the opportunity."
"Petrie, you flew into Sharptooth's face and yanked his eyelid," Cera deadpanned.
The young flyer puffed up. "Yup. Proudest moment of my life."
Even Cera halfheartedly joined the resultant laughter.
"Of course, we occasionally ended up touching them anyway," Littlefoot reminded. "Like that time I crawled into a sharptooth's mouth to steal his tooth to fix Saurus Rock."
"Why again did you think that was a good idea?" Cera asked smirkingly.
"I thought he was dead!" Littlefoot defended.
"You'd think we'd be dead after running into Red Claw almost every week," Petrie continued. "Beat him a few times, too."
"Even as kids," Littlefoot agreed. "Remember when we fought him, Screech and Thud directly? Imagine what would have happened if we didn't have Daga- ... Dag ..."
The others awaited the rest of that sentence to no avail.
"You mean Pterano?" asked Petrie.
Littlefoot shook his head. "No, I meant ... um ..."
"What is a 'Daga Dag'?" asked Ducky.
Littlefoot strained his memory. "I ... I dunno ... I think I forgot."
Dawn's interest was piqued all the more.
"Since when do you forget anything?" Cera scoffed lightheartedly.
"I don't ..." Littlefoot asserted.
Cera shrugged. "Well, if you forgot, it probably wasn't important."
A nuance of heavyheartedness weighed down Littlefoot's head. "It kinda feels important ..." He shook away the niggling memory. "I must be mixing up something with the time we drove off Red Claw with tree sweets."
"The look on his face!" Petrie cackled.
"We could 'remember when' all day, can't we?" Littlefoot reflected.
"What manner of madness plagued your childhood?" blurted Pterano. "How did your guardians cope with such copious chaos?"
The young leafeaters burst into laughter.
"Mostly, they didn't have to!" Littlefoot explained. "We never told them the details! They don't even know about half our adventures!"
Another round of laughter sounded at the sight of Pterano's flabbergasted face.
"Laugh all you want, lovable rascals!" Pterano bantered. "Henceforth, I shan't let you out of my sight!"
"Good luck with that, uncle," smirked Petrie. "One way or another, we always end up on our own little adventures, and we always come home in one piece."
"That is not normal," Cera insisted. "Most kids wouldn't have been that lucky."
"It is our normal," Ducky declared.
It started low, nearly inaudibly, but the groan in Cera's throat quickly grew to a growl that became difficult to ignore.
"Fine!" she exploded. "Let's just go, kick eight hundred tails, probably more, somehow make it back in one piece and call it a munday!"
"'Munday'?" echoed Littlefoot.
"A mundane day," Cera explained. "It's that cold splash of reality at the start of the week when literally everything goes bonkers, then turns around at the last second and you go 'Wait a minute ... this is normal! Bring it on!'"
"So basically 'Murfy's Law'," Dawn commented.
"Who's 'Murfy'?" asked Cera.
"You'll know soon enough," Dawn smirked. "Alright, guys! Ready to go?"
The leafeaters confirmed their willingness.
"Great! Onward!" Dawn urged vivaciously.
"Oh, what I'd give for the boundless energy of youth," Pterano playfully protested.
Petrie placed a weary wing on Pterano's shoulder. "Uncle, I have no idea what you're talking about, but Dawn is on a whole different level of ... something."
"Whatever her level, she seems to deem you worthy," Pterano encouraged as he took to the air. "The question is, do you deem yourself worthy?"
Petrie gave a slight snort as flew after him. "Eh, why should I? It's not like I'm the Daybreaker's protégé or anything."
Uncle and nephew shared a laugh.
[E.T.A.: 00:59:31]
...
[Recalculating ...]
Wedged between unscalable terrain was a wall of tree trunks driven deep into the earth, interlocking unsurpassably. Not a flying nibbler could slip between the fortification.
"Your herd made this?" asked Littlefoot, examining the construct. "It looks like something a flyer would build, but I can't see a flyer moving such massive trunks."
"Neither can I," Dawn admitted. "That's why I had the herd's heavy lifters learn the principles of flyer nest-building. It won't always stop the biggest, most persistent sharpteeth, but it sure holds them off for a while."
Cera grinned. "Challenge accepted."
She threw herself into the wall horns first. It scarcely shuddered. Cera glared at the stubborn structure and backed up for another charge.
Dawn beamed at her indirect handiwork. "That'll take forever. We'll have to dismantle it methodically. Littlefoot's the only one big enough and coordinated enough to-"
Cera exploded towards the barrier.
Dawn was taken aback by her speed. She felt the ensuing impact in her bones followed by the cacophonous crash of smashed wood.
"B-but ... I had threehorns do stress tests ..." Dawn stuttered. "They couldn't just ... it took several ..."
"It's nothing," Cera added insult to injury. "Don't thank me. I did it for pleasure."
"Yeah? Well-!" Dawn aborted her retort when she realised she didn't have one.
Littlefoot stepped into the spacious stretch of land before them, interspersed with greenery. The murmur of crisp, mountain wind accentuated its emptiness.
"Any idea where the herd went?" he asked.
"I was hoping you could help me figure that out," Dawn confessed, surveying the area with her bird's eye view. "I'm not much good at tracking, but the choke point is in ruins, just like that deadend we ran into. They must have left through there beforeit was destroyed."
"Which means the fast biters likely drove the herd out of here," Littlefoot surmised.
"I was expecting a trap," Cera confessed.
Petrie landed, taking the opportunity to rest his wings while their surroundings held no apparent hiding places.
"Guess they had a better place for that," Littlefoot suggested.
"I'm glad this is not it," Ducky voiced, sitting and rubbing her afflicted limbs. "My legs are still aching ... as well as my everything else."
"I kinda wish this was it," Cera opined. "The longer we move, the more sore we're gonna get."
Littlefoot examined the soil, finding fast biter footprints, those of leafeaters, and a chaotic mess of displaced soil. "Those sharpteeth were definitely here. It looks like there was a struggle ..."
He traced frenetic footprints to a slab of stone floor almost perfectly cracked in half, neighboured by a tree with long peels of bark dangling off its side.
"... a really weird struggle," Littlefoot added.
Dawn soared towards the collapsed rocky passage that was the choke point. She shook her head in amazement. "You're right. These fast biters must have have been preparing for weeks ... either that or Murfy breathed on the choke point."
"Again, who is this 'Murfy'? I genuinely wanna know what in the world is wrong with him," demanded Cera.
The leafeaters flinched as a head popped from the top of a bush-laden incline, its dazed face lighting up upon seeing them. The lengthy neck attached to that head emerged shortly after, flailing with its owner's inelegant attempts to escape the tangle of vegetation. Finally, he freed himself from the foliage and flopped to the ground, panting profusely.
Littlefoot and Cera exchanged awkward glances.
The new longneck scrambled to a stand and stepped towards them. "Hello! You must be The-!"
For no discernable reason, he tripped into an earth-shaking tumble down the incline. Subtly surprising was the complete absence of pained, panicked cries from the longneck.
The wincing leafeaters inched backwards as he rolled dangerously close. Just before collision, the final tumble landed him on his feet in a stunning feat of recovery.
"-Valley Guard!" he finished as though he hadn't missed a beat.
His brow wrinkled at their silent staring.
"What's wrong?" he asked before looking back at the dust cloud in his wake. "Oh, that? No biggie. The little tumbles don't even break my bones anymore."
Littlefoot gave the longneck a once over. He looked to be a few years younger. A late teenager, perhaps. Being a rockback, his stone scales were a given but, there were too many, too thick. His rough hide implied the hardened life of a longneck times his age. However, this patchwork of armoured skin was strangely irregular for a warrior, emphasising points most vulnerable to nasty falls and other accidents.
"Hi, Murfy," Littlefoot greeted. "It's great to finally meet you."
"You know my name?" A star-struck Murfy pattered the ground. "The honour's all mine! You're ... oh, wow, you're Littlefoot, aren't you? I've heard so much about you guys! Tales of your heroics have spread all over The Mysterious Beyond!"
"Murf!" Dawn exclaimed, flying in to give his neck a quick hug before settling on his back. "What happened? Where are the others?"
"Gone," Murfy sighed unhelpfully. "Far as I know, those biters haven't touched them yet."
"Oh, what a relief!" she exhaled. "Okay, formal introductions first. This is Littlefoot."
"Trained by The Lone Dinosaur!" Murfy geeked out.
"That's Cera."
"'The Amazing Threehorn Girl'!"
"Ducky."
"Flow Motion River Master!"
"Spike."
"The 'Silent Strike'!"
"Pterano."
"Who?"
"You'd know him as 'The Daybreaker'."
"The Daybre- For REAL? That's The DAYBREAKER?"
"And Petrie!" Dawn swooned.
Murfy looked back at her. "Why did you say his name like that?"
"Heh, take a wild guess." She sent Petrie one of her little waves.
Petrie would have waved back if he could feel his wing. Besides, his legs demanded all mental focus to keep them from giving.
"Congrats, Dawn!" He turned to Petrie. "She touched down in the valley for, like, ten heartbeats and you stole hers! Do you have any idea how lucky you are to nab a fifty eight just like that?"
"I- I-I … I," Petrie stammered.
In an instant, Murfy lowered his head a leaf's distance from Petrie's face, menacing eyes searing into his soul.
"Too lucky. Impossibly lucky," Murfy hissed. "No on deserves to be that lucky."
"Whoa, whoa, Murfy? What are you doing? Can you not?" Dawn implored.
He ignored her. "I don't care who you are. Dawn has no shortage of admirers, but she's never picked a single one until you came along. That means she chose you for a very specific reason, whether she knows it or not."
"Well, obviously!" snapped Dawn. "Growing up, I had to be a quick judge of character! It was a life-or-death thing!"
"That's right, she's a quick judge of character," Murfy agreed without letting up. "If Dawn weren't a tree smart gal who can break a guy's beak with her bare wings, I'd assume you were somehow messing with her mind. You know how many things could happen to you at any given time?"
Petrie's beak quavered but nothing came out.
Dawn was blanching. "DUDE! That's ENOUGH!"
"I do," Murfy continued. "The list goes on, and on, and ON! My mind is a black, bubbling pit of possibilities. If you're playing with Dawn, I will show you just how easily anything can and will go wrong when I make it my life's mission to RUIN you!"
Murfy removed his face from Petrie's personal space and smiled pleasantly. "Of course, that won't be necessary, 'cause Dawn is a tree smart, quick judge of character who can rip a guy's heart out faster than he'll ever break hers, which isn't painful at all 'cause it just happens that fast!" He laughed stiffly at the dark description. "Anyway, I can see in your petrified eyes that you don't have a crafty bone in your body! Man, I feel like a jerk right now …"
"YES! Feel like a JERK!" Dawn chastened sharply, pointing to a rocky nook. "Go stand in that corner and wallow in your shame!"
Murfy turned to comply with quick, guilty nods. "That I shall. Have a happy life, you crazy kids!"
"That we will, no thanks to you!" Dawn fumed before addressing Petrie. "P-Petrie? S … sorry you had to hear that. I've never ripped a guy's heart … out … Don't listen to him! He's a well-intentioned, scatter-brained weirdo and … Petrie? Petrie? Is … is anyone home?"
Dawn experimentally poked Petrie. The catatonic male didn't blink.
"Murfy, if you broke him, I'll fly into your face and rip out SOMETHING!" she shrieked.
"I accept my terms of punishment!" Murphy approved from a distance.
Littlefoot loudly cleared his throat. "Anywaay, Murfy, can you tell us where the herd is?"
"Nope," he admitted, face averted in his little corner.
Cera sighed. "Yeah, 'cause it's just so easy to lose track of an entire herd."
"Sorry, I was out when they left," he explained.
She sputtered. "Out where exactly?"
"Unconscious ... in a hole ... until I heard someone call my name," Murfy explained. "That kind of 'out'."
"Murfy, what exactly happened before we got here?" Cera asked.
He exhaled at the unpleasant memory.
All eyes fell on the choke point, guarded by the biggest, strongest of the herd. Peering from the end of the rocky passage were dozens of predatory glares. Abysmal screeches erupted from their maws, keeping the leafeaters' attention fixed in their direction. Despite the sheer scare factor, the herd was confident in its relative safety.
No one imagined the fast biters could climb.
There was no warning. One moment, the herd was alone in its stronghold. The next, the fast biters were there, numbering by the the hundreds with more pouring down the wooden wall.
"No ... impossible! Fast biters can't climb!" panicked a swimmer.
The sharpteeth formed a semicircle around them, snapping, snarling, backing the leafeaters towards the stone passage.
~What are they doing?~ Murfy wondered. ~They're not attacking, they're pushing us. Why would they-? No, remember, sharpteeth aren't stupid. They're as smart as we are ... maybe smarter. What would Littlefoot do? What would Littlefoot ...?~
Murfy braced himself and stepped forward before feeling a tail holding back his ankle.
"Murfy? What are you doing?" whispered another longneck.
"With any luck? Saving our lives," he replied.
"With your luck, you're gonna get killed!" she insisted.
Murfy grinned. "Funny thing about my luck: it works both ways."
The other longneck helplessly released him as he moved out in front of the herd.
"*Ahem* Hello? Hi!" he called to the fast biters.
If anything, their snarls grew louder.
"I said 'HI'!" Murfy asserted.
The fast biters silenced.
He fidgeted under their glares, adopting his most diplomatic tone. "Hello. I'm Murfy. I ... know you don't understand me, but I know you're smart. I know you see that I'm being friendly. I know you're not hurting anyone, which means you have something less ... traditional, in mind."
Gobsmacked glances were exchanged between the fast biters.
He almost felt silly, but his words were more for the herd than anyone else. He needed to make sure they all followed his train of thought.
Murfy touched his chest with his tail. "Murfy. Mur-fee. See? I have a name. I'm a person, just like you. I'd love learn all your names, but my herd and I have to get to The Great Valley. We won't bother you. We're just gonna slooowwly, nonconfrontationally, walk back to the barrier and be on our way, okay?"
At least the blank sharptooth stares weren't confrontational either.
"Alright, everyone. Let's go," Murfy instructed.
The herd tentatively follow him, mindful not to make sudden movements.
The fast biters mirrored their steps, advancing without budging.
Murfy stopped.
So did the herd and sharpteeth.
He added an edge of assertiveness to his voice. "I don't want to fight, but we're not backing down. If push comes to shove, the whole herd will come down on you like sky fire."
One of the larger fast biters stepped forward, meeting his gaze with cool, even eyes.
"I find that unlikely," the fast biter countered, his smooth yet insuperable voice like the crackle of bush fire melded with rivers.
Murfy's jaw dropped.
Shockwaves of questions and exclamations rippled throughout the herd.
Murfy forced his mouth to do its job. "Ca-can all fast biters talk?"
"Of course we can. We speak our own tongue," the fast biter replied. "Compared to that, your tongue is simple, yet tricky in strange, inconsistent ways. Any sharptooth with half a brain will learn your words by mere observation. Most don't have even that. Most deem it taboo, but as you can see, we are not most sharpteeth. Hello, brave longneck. I am Arrtafiss."
Murfy's voice was gone again, not that he had any idea what to say. Moments passed as the fast biter's calm, intent gaze bore down on him. Finally, he gathered his thoughts and found his voice.
"W-we're going to The Great Valley," he declared. "Could you let us pass?"
"This is our land," Arrtafiss informed. "We come here every year to lay our eggs. If you want to reach The Great Valley, you will take the path through which we direct you."
"Um ... okay," Murfy found himself agreeing. "Wait, wait, wait, h ... how do I know this isn't a trap?"
Arrtafiss's smile made his scales crawl. "Look around. You are already trapped. What more could we do to trap you?"
"I dunno," Murfy admitted. "... How do we know you're not just saving us for later?"
Arrtafiss laughed, a sound akin to teeth raking bone. "That seems like a lot of unnecessary effort, wouldn't you say?"
"Not really," argued Murfy. "Most of us are big, which makes us hard to move. If you want us all in the right place, why not make us walk there?"
The ensuing silence was unbearable as Arrtafiss's amber, slit eyes sliced through his soul, unblinking. Not a leafeater dared murmur in the lull.
"Murrrfy," Arrtafiss purred, "count yourrself among the lucky. We have feassted recently. We have no need for your flesshh, but we are not your frriends. Do as we asssk and you will live. We would rather not sufferrr the sstench of your uneaten remains literrring our nessting area."
Murfy had forgotten that he towered over the biter. He felt small, and shrinking by the second. It took everything he had to speak up once more.
"C-c-can we at least wait for my friend, Dawn?" he managed. "She's a flyer. Sh-she won't know where we went."
Arrtafiss gave a belaboured sigh, as though this longneck were testing his benevolent patience. Murfy could feel the weight of his apparent disappointment.
"The rrest of you will go where we ssay," Arrtafiss hissed. "Let Murrrfy sserve as an example to you ALL!"
Fast biters flashed forth and converged on Murfy from all sides. His mind scrambled for an escape plan, but all coherent thought degenerated into chaos. An odd sense of assurance washed over him as something clicked in his brain.
Chaos was perfect.
Murfy's tail flailed at the biters. It missed by a longshot. He withdrew it. This time, the tail connected, sending one careening into several more.
Many leapt onto his hide. Half slipped off, unable to grip the mess of stone scales. The other half did their best to clamber up his back to his neck.
Murfy thrashed about. Nearly every wild footstep claimed a victim. Even the erratic whips of his tail found jaws, temples, ankles, knees, triggering collisions among enemies more often than not. They should have quickly recovered from such aimless blows, but a startling number found themselves taking damage in unlikely, incapacitating ways. At least, provided they were fortunate enough to remain conscious.
Those that climbed him found themselves flung from his back one by one. Seemingly random movements dislodged them to fall to the mercy of his feet.
Arrtafiss tilted his head. Something was wrong with Murfy's actions. Though spastic and with no apparent formula, they were not uncoordinated. They couldn't be. They almost looked that way, but he knew the ineffectual effects of random thrashing. Even they followed certain patterns, but this? If there was a pattern, it was perfectly unpredictable, perfectly adapting to inflict maximum damage while ensuring that they never quite hit his pressure points just right.
Even the sharpnecks could not harness chaos like this.
"Stop," Arrtafiss commanded.
His air of authority halted longneck and fast biters alike.
"Explain how you are doing that," Arrtafiss commanded.
Murfy panted, straightening as he forced a confident smile. "Weak spots ... mayhem ... it's my thing ... All you did was give me something to aim at ... besides myself."
"You don't know how you do it, do you?" Arrtafiss surmised.
Murfy faltered. "I ... um ..."
Arrtafiss snapped a command.
A flash flood of fast biters overwhelmed Murfy, burying all but his upper neck and head in a frenzy of scratching, biting bodies. Even so, those clinging to his throat were quickly weighing it down to join the ferocious mass.
The alpha throbbed in satisfaction. There was only so much chaos one longneck could-
"RRRAAAAAGGH!" Murfy roared.
A rain of fast biters shed from his body as he reared onto his hind legs. He overshot and began to fall back. What looked like a blessing for the fast biters proved to be a curse in disguise. He twisted through the air. The way he twisted made for one of the most awkward landings imaginable. He hit the ground with a titanic half-roll that wrenched him free of most assailants while sending cracks shooting across the fault line of the stone floor.
Without even regaining his balance, Murfy raged into the air and fell yet again, grazing past a tree that striped off a dozen biters along with peels of bark.
Arrtafiss felt his composure melt to wrath. Still, he found a kernel cold, logical control amid the inferno. He blazed towards the longneck lurching up an incline, allowing that kernel and raw intuition to guide him through the bodies fallen and flying. Past the tail whips and stomps, he dashed for a half-dead tree, his only strategic hope. He had no chance of anticipating the longneck. Superior speed, experience and split-second instinct were his sole advantage.
This longneck made a mockery of their skill and intellect. If Arrtafiss failed to exact retribution, he had no right to call himself 'alpha'.
The fast biter leader leapt into the tree, zigzagged up the branches and kicked off the top towards the longneck's head. That thrashing tail was inbound to intercept. Arrtafiss bent his body so as to narrowly avoid a glancing blow that would end his efforts there and then. He drove his feet into Murfy's skull with all the strength his muscles could muster.
Murfy's vision blurred as consciousness fled his mind. The last he remembered was the sensation of falling through bushes that could only be concealing a massive sink hole.
"And that's how I ended up in that hole," Murfy finished.
An incredulous, slightly jealous Cera blinked hard. "Okay. If that happened, then where're all the fast biters you took down?"
"I guess their buddies carried them off," Murfy supposed. "I can't have taken down more than a hundred. There were plenty of able-bodied biters left." He looked around. "I can see a few teeth and claws laying about, though. Guess they didn't leave in one piece, so there's that."
"A hundred? Riiight," Cera squeezed her eyes shut. "Murfy ... are you sure you're telling it like it really happened?"
"I doubt it," Dawn opined. "He has a bad habit of downplaying. We'll probably never get the full story."
He looked at her defensively. "Well, I can't remember everything that happens when I'm throwing myself all over the place, okay? Maybe I hit Arrtafiss a few times, or knocked out more than a hundred biters or something. Whatever, it's best to err on the side of caution and downplay details I'm not sure about."
Cera stared at him.
"What?" asked a genuinely clueless Murfy.
She shook her head. "Nothing."
Dawn took a deep breath released it with the last trace of her anger. "You did good, Murf. Come on out of the corner. Sorry I called you a 'scatter-brained weirdo'."
"No offense taken," Murfy smiled as he rejoined the group. "It is kinda true."
"In the best possible way," Dawn smiled back.
Littlefoot regarded the impassable choke point with weary eyes. "I guess we'll have to find another way around those rocks ..."
"Maybe not," Murfy disagreed.
The younger longneck hustled to the choke point, gave it a few quick looks and nodded. His eyes rested on Cera's horns as the others caught up with him.
"Your horns are perfect!" he praised out of the blue.
Cera smirked with an upraised eyebrow. "Thanks ... you're literally not my type."
Murfy blinked. "What? Oh ... OH! Ew!"
Her smirk inverted. "'Ew'?
"No offense. As far as threehorns go, you're a real cutie ..." he squinted at a flustered Cera "... I think ..."
Her frown deepened. "Please stop confusing me."
"Granted," he chuckled. "What I meant was your horns are perfect for smashing us a path through the choke point."
"Oh, now you're talkin'!" Cera enthused.
She sized up the humongous heap of rock with a flicker of doubt, then thundered towards it.
"Not like that!" Murfy called after her.
She skidded to a stop and nearly bumped into the first boulder. "I'm sorry, what?"
Murfy stepped forward and tapped one of the larger rocks. "You gotta hit this one, specifically at this spot. Come from the side, like so," he gestured with his tail. "Swing your horns sharply up and to the left when you strike, then bail. It's the most effective approach I can think of."
"Ohhh! Forgive me!" Cera sassed. "You're a threehorn? I had no idea! You know what? You got this! Just, just do my job for me, why dont'cha?"
He shook his head. "I can't. Your horns are perfect. Mine are nonexistent."
"Just listen to him, he knows what he's saying," Dawn assured.
The threehorn puffed a breath of resignation. "Alright. Alright. I'll hold you to that."
She got into position based on Murfy's instructions and charged.
"No, wait, wait!" he urged. "A little more to the right."
Cera groaned, but stepped back and complied.
"Let me see how you'll swing your horns," he instructed.
She lackadaisically showed him.
"Yeah, that's not gonna work," he critiqued. "Add a little more feeling."
Privately, Cera imagined Murfy in front of her when she unleashed her horns.
"That's how you'd hit a boulder?" he inquired. "Looks more like you're attacking some rando longneck."
The look on her face told him that comment took her off guard.
He winced back and chuckled sheepishly. "I'm the 'rando longneck', aren't I?"
Cera declined to answer as she imagined the boulder before her and struck air. "Better?"
"Much," he smiled. "Now arc your strike like this." He demonstrated with his tail.
She emulated him.
"Good. Arc it tighter."
Cera did so.
"You caught on fast! Let's see your charge."
She let him see it.
"Faster."
She charged faster.
"Steadier."
She adjusted to suit.
"Great. Do it a few more times, just so I know you've got it right."
Littlefoot watched attentively. ~Fascinating.~
Spike yawned. ~If only boredom were edible.~
He felt something gently grab his tail and turned to see Ducky way ahead of him. Huddled on her side, she quietly snored as she rolled his tail around her. For someone nuzzling his spikes, the swimmer looked bizarrely blissful. Apparently, years of practice taught her to find comfort from an uninviting source.
He smiled, warmed that he helped her feel safe enough to catnap in The Mysterious Beyond ... although she'd be a lot safer if his tail were free for duty.
"You're a quick learner!" Murfy praised. "Just do everything I told you and you'll like what happens next."
"Uh huh," mumbled the unconvinced threehorn.
She charged and struck with a horn hook to the left.
The resultant din of shattering rock shocked her. It sounded as though the whole world were falling apart!
Ducky jolted awake. "Wuzzat?"
"Now BAIL!" Murfy yelled.
Cera scrambled away before colossal rocks crashed down in her place. Once at a safe distance, she watched in awe as the wall of boulders collapsed backwards, rumbling down the stone passage like a herd in stampede.
"Incredible ..." Littlefoot breathed.
The threehorn barely noticed Murfy's tail creep up to her jaw and lift it shut. She slowly turned her gaze upon the longneck with newfound reverence.
"Nice! Do you wanna hang out when this is over?" Cera asked.
"With a legend waiting to happen?" he nodded with goofy glee. "Oh yes. Oh very so much yes *wwWWAAAH-CHOOOO!*"
At first, a mortified Murfy could only stare at his horrid handiwork. He imagined Cera was frowning, but it was difficult to confirm through the snot and saliva.
"It's been a long day. I'm not even gonna react to this," Cera deadpanned.
"GAAAH! I'm so SORRY! Here, lemme just ..." He wiped her face with his tail, smearing the mess. "Ohhhh NO! It's just getting EVERYWHERE!"
"Let's just laugh it off as Murfy's Law and call it a munday," suggested Cera, though she didn't sound particularly inclined to laugh.
"It's not just Murfy's Law, it's ...!" He shivered. "... It's actually really chilly all of a sudden. Do you guys feel that?" He chuckled nervously. "Nevermind, who cares? No, you don't have to sully your paws wiping it off like that!"
"Don't fuss over me, I got this," Cera assured as she continued to remove the gunk.
"At least let me help! I'll go and grab a big leaf real quick to clean- Oh no."
On the first step, he slipped on a pebble, plunged into the stone passage and his world was rolling again.
Sky, ground, sky, ground ...
After a daily dose of similar fiascos, such an experience barely registered as annoying. His only regret was that finding the leaf might take considerably longer.
Sky, ground, sky, Valley Guard, Dawn, sky, ground, Valley Guard ...
They were trying to chase him down and help! How nice of them, but in his experience, it was best to simply roll with the plunges (unrepentant pun) until the opportunity came to right himself. Finally, it did.
Murfy popped to a stand and found himself staring over the edge of a sheer drop. Far below, the fallen boulders once blocking their path bent and snapped hapless trees as they lay strewn atop the jungle.
"Wow. I could have actually died that time," he commented dully.
The ledge on which he stood began to crack. In the nick of time, Littlefoot's tail yanked him to safety and it crumbled down the cliff.
"Scratch that. I'da totally died!" he guffawed. "Thanks, Littlefoot! *Brrrr!* It's not just freezing up here ... something feels ... really off. Do you guys feel that, or is it just the joys of head trauma again?"
The chill that spiked through Littlefoot's heart was no mere consequence of temperature. Buzzers ceased chirping, the wind stilled. Even his breaths, shallow puffs of misty air, felt simply wrong in his lungs.
Then he heard the scream.
Illogical, inscrutable, indisputable, the scream was in the silence. It was the silence. It was deep in his bones, tearing through his flesh in an icy, desperate cry.
The world was screaming.
The moment he saw it, he knew. As the sky brightened and that thing tore through the clouds, he simply knew. It was the end of everything. Beautiful, terrible, titanic, its cold flames set the heavens on fire, wrapped around a form too smooth and symmetrical to be a child of nature.
It descended in the distance, beyond the horizon, uniting with his world in a blinding flash. The light dissipated. Moments expired, but no nothing notable transpired.
"Is ... is that it?" Cera dared to ask.
The sky darkened. Colossal cracks ripped across the landscape and torrents of cold fire raced between them. Littlefoot felt the heat forsake his body as the very blood froze in his veins. The mountain collapsed beneath him. He had scarcely begun to fall before cold fire crashed through him as if he were nothing.
Buzzers chirped. Wind blew unperturbed. The jungle below remained untouched, but the grip of horror refused to release the quavering dinosaurs. They knew what they had seen, though the world moved on as though nothing happened.
{~RETURN TO THE VALLEY.~}
Littlefoot's voice was small. "N ... No ..."
{~RETURN TO THE VALLEY!~}
"NO!" Littlefoot roared. "NO. NO. NO! Don't you GET it? Maybe I'm STUPID! Maybe I'm INSANE, but I will NOT leave that herd to die like this! If you REALLY want us back in the the valley, GET OUT OF OUR WAY OR BETTER YET HELP US!"
The rant had run its course, but all eyes remained fixed on the panting longneck.
Cera didn't know when Littlefoot had become this. She didn't even know what 'this' was, but for the first time, she truly saw it, was awed by it. This was Littlefoot, when all the layers peeled back and his heart exuded its rawest contents.
The Voice returned with a new declaration.
(~Arrival in 38 minutes, 17 seconds.~)
Petrie's jaw dropped. "That's- that's not enough time!"
"It will have to be," Littlefoot declared.
Ducky spoke up. "But ... we have not even found the herd, let alone-"
"It will have to be," Littlefoot emphasised.
"Littlefoot, please heed sound reason!" Pterano implored. "We must find shelter!"
"Do you really think shelter's gonna make a difference?" snapped Littlefoot.
"You really think anything's gonna make a difference?" Petrie countered.
"Look, I really, really wish you guys stayed at the valley," was Littlefoot's exasperated confession. "Apparently, you'd be safer there. Right now, you can do whatever you want, but if I'm gonna die, I'll do it doing something that means something!"
"And you will."
That voice that was decidedly not leafeater, though the amicable lilt tempered its predatory edge.
They turned to see a female fast biter sauntering towards them, stopping just out of range of Littlefoot's tail.
"You will fall to the second greatest sharptooth pack of all," she purred. "That means a lot, does it not?"
As she spoke, Littlefoot glanced behind him. If a fast biter revealed herself so readily, you could guarantee her buddies were sneaking up behind you ...
...
... which didn't appear to be the case.
"Were you expecting more sharpteeth?" she asked, before grimacing light-heartedly. "Speaking your tongue is a very strange, interesting experience. Why do you say 'leafeaters', then turn around and say 'sharpteeth'? Why not 'sharptooths'?"
Petrie, Pterano and Dawn's words tumbled over each other. "Behind you!" "Blindside!" "Turn around!"
Now, Littlefoot looked back to see a multitude of fast biters standing behind them. For all the flyers to respond at once, they could only have appeared so swiftly and stealthily that no one saw them coming until they were right there, which was ... unnervingly unusual, to say the least.
The leafeaters smoothly positioned themselves to guard all angles.
"Typical trick," Littlefoot commented.
"Ah, but it worked, didn't it?" the female debated brightly. "You know what they say: 'If it isn't broken, don't break it. Just make it better'."
"Yeah, no," Cera shook her head, "that's not how it goes either. To whom do we owe the displeasure?"
The female's smile didn't falter. "I am Beta Ssavi of the Clever Claws, and you are dead."
When she blurred towards them on the word 'are', neither her breathing nor friendly intonation changed. She spoke fluidly, without a hint of exertion.
That was why no one reacted.
Over 13,500 words, huh? That explains why I felt like I was writing on a treadmill, but that works with the plot, doesn't it? Needless to say, the gang is pretty exhausted by the end of the chapter and they're just getting started. Did sharing the journey with them step by marathonic step make the read more immersive, or miserable? (If the latter, don't answer that :).
The funny thing about Ducky? Sweet and innocent as she is, one of the first things she did after hatching was tackle a small mammal. As a mammalian myself, I'm not quite sure how to feel about that (0_0;), but the bottom line? She had pro wrestling in her since the day she was born. The Ducky of this continuity is totally in character. You could say she's reconnected with a side of her we seldom get to see.
Next: There is no time, no reprieve, no escape. Pushed to their limits, the gang and their new friends face their most cunning, deadly opponents yet.
Thanks for reading!