It's a pity that real-life Pteranodons were incapable of carrying objects with their feet like birds (unlike their Land Before Time counterparts) but I might have come up with a way to make it and some other inaccuracies make sense within the story. Let's just say that though most of our heroes are in layman's terms 'dinosaurs', by our strictest classification, they are not ;). The beginning of an in-universe explanation will come soon enough.

"I tried to talk. I want you to remember that. I tried to reach out. I tried to understand you, but I think that you understand us perfectly ... and I think that you just don't care! And I don't know whether you are here to invade, infiltrate, or just replace us! I don't suppose it really matters now, you are MONSTERS! That is the role you seem DETERMINED to play, so it seems that I. Must play. MINE!

"The man that stops the monsters."

- Doctor Who, 'Flatline'.

Chapter 6

Ssavi

"I am Beta Ssavi of The Clever Claws, and you are dead."

The fast biter's voice never changed: not a grunt, not a pause. Closing distance didn't affect Ducky's perception of its volume in any way, but on the word 'are', Ssavi was moving. She was moving in fast.

Time and time again, Ducky's reflexes had saved her. She didn't need to think. Her body knew what to do. If something came at her, no matter how swift, she would give way just enough so that glancing blows were the best her foes could manage.

This time, she did not give way.

The word 'dead' scarcely left Ssavi's mouth before her blazing blur had passed Ducky. A jolt of jaws, a sting of teeth. The swimmer clutched her arm in shock.

She spun to see Ssavi among her subordinates, smacking her lips. The biter's head feathers twitched with relish.

"Yesss. Ohh, yess," Ssavi hissed. "You will do nicely."

At her near-imperceptible gesture, her followers surged forth, footsteps deceptively swift in their smooth silence. It was almost enough to fool the mind into disregarding their movements entirely.

The Valley Guard would not be fooled a second time.

From the moment Littlefoot launched into combat, these biters asserted themselves as the deadliest beings he had ever faced. He struck once. Twice. Thrice. He hit nothing. Their movements were unreal, unrelenting, nigh unpredictable, slipping through any crack in his defenses and aborting the moment he whirled to stop them. When one withdrew, several more were already advancing, always positioned so that striking multiple opponents with a blow was a tricky prospect. It took almost every iota of focus just to keep them at bay, but he was learning, and learning quickly.

He struck one. Two.

"BEHIND YOU!"

Littlefoot almost looked. His subconscious screamed a warning. It sounded like Dawn, though her almost musical voice was tempered by a vaguely jagged touch. More pertinent was the fact that it didn't come from above.

It came from his left.

He spun to face it. Almost instantly, multiple attacks afflicted his right leg. Its muscles twitched. Pain pulsed from the pressure points, but the leg held firm thanks to thick scales and tremendous mass. His response was quick and forceful. Three fast biters failed to flee his leg in time. Even the glancing blows they half-dodged sent them rolling. If they wanted to bring him down, they would have to come much harder.

Come harder they did.

"Littlefoot! Watch out!" Not Cera.

"HELP! My EYE!" A glimpse revealed Ducky was fine.

"Ducky! NO!" Definitely not Spike.

"Take heed! More incoming!" Pterano hadn't said that.

"Don't talk! Ignore them! Keep fighting!" Littlefoot commanded.

"NO! Listen closely! That's not me!" An imposter.

Given a second, a sharp ear could distinguish mimicked voices from authentic. No one had a second. The air was filled with the false cries of allies. All the while, attacks never ceased. Adapting to the chaos was a daunting challenge.

However, they were adapting.

The fast biters' voices lacked the effortless volume and timbre of big creatures like Littlefoot, Cera, Ducky and Spike. The flyers' voices carried a clarion quality lost in mimickry, not to mention the lack of vertical direction. The more they imitated, the clearer their ruse grew. The more they attacked, the more their tactics seared into minds sharpened by Advanced Imagination.

The battlefield was leveling, but not fast enough.

Several biters penetrated his last layer of defense. A rumbling rush of amber obliterated them. Lacking the agility and speed off a fast biter, it was easy to forget that in comparison to most threehorns, Cera was horrifyingly fast. After that painful reminder, their retaliation was swift, methodical, and utterly frustrating for both parties. They were simply too fast, blinking in and out of range before she could launch follow up attacks. However, she denied them their 'pressure points' with rapid little movements: just enough to sabotage their accuracy. Those bold enough to target her eyes endured harrowing encounters with her quick, tricky horns. They who flanked her were repelled by sharp hip and shoulder shifts and close encounters with her stomps.

Soon, they began to overwhelm her. Then it came like a serpent of lightning. She felt it as a wind whipping by, harmless. Littlefoot's tail was much less merciful towards her attackers, now scattered.

They exchanged fleeting smiles before blanking out the mimics as they fought in silent synergy.

Ducky's plight was quite different. The fast biters gave her a wide berth. Were they ignoring her? No. They were avoiding her, all except one.

Ssavi stood behind the fray, unwavering eyes locked on her singular prey.

Ducky stared back with equal intensity.

That was the fast biter she needed to worry about. It remained possible that other sharpteeth planned to blindside her, so she kept her senses sharp for surprise attacks. However, Ducky's friends formed a loose circle around her the moment they caught wind of Ssavi's intent. The beta biter made no attempt to preempt them, but even so, her subordinates demanded most of their attention. Ducky didn't dislike sharpteeth. She didn't really dislike anyone, but the way Ssavi playfully seemed to claim her? It was equal parts unsettling and off putting.

Ducky's eyes narrowed on the biter.

Ssavi tilted her head and smirked.

In the chaos of battle, someone whirled between their line of sight.

Ssavi was gone.

Fear spiked through Ducky's chest. Her eyes scanned the confusion for any sign of Ssavi.

She felt a presence behind her.

Ducky's tail swung a strike as she spun to face her ambusher. The blow didn't connect. Nothing was there? Strange ... she could have sworn-

The crimson blur was practically on top of her.

Ducky's left palm strike was desperate. It made contact, but she already felt claws leave their mark on that arm, aggravating the bite it suffered as it was.

Ssavi fell sideways, rolled through the air, sprang off the ground, rotated once more and landed on her feet.

"Impressive! You almost hurt me!" Ssavi praised, raising her voice above the din.

Ducky frowned. 'Almost'? She revisited the memory. Her eyes widened. Ssavi had thrown herself to the ground just before the blow reached her, robbing most of its force. That explained why the hit felt so insubstantial, but Ssavi's speed? What manner of sharptooth could move that fast?

"You like to strike with your palms, especially the left! Interesting!" Ssavi commented, pacing around Ducky. "Of course, without claws, blunt force can be nothing more."

Once again, Ssavi was a rush of red.

Ducky's eyes tried and failed to follow her as she zigzagged with ferocious speed. The moment came when Ducky knew: she wasn't going to react in time.

Spike's tail came down and Ssavi stopped sharply. It skewered the dirt just ahead, where she would have been if not for freakish reflexes.

Ssavi met the spiketail's glare with unamused eyes. "Darling, please do not interrupt your sister's final moments. It is very rude."

Pterano swooped. He was fast. Ssavi was faster. Her dodging dash was destined for Spike.

"NO!" Ducky screamed.

She raced to help her brother, managing three steps before the crack of Ssavi's kick met her ears. Terror gripped her heart as she checked and rechecked for fatal injury. No claw marks. She'd be relieved if Spike didn't look about ready to collapse.

"See? I can hit hard too!" Ssavi teased.

Pterano's shadow fell upon her and she was forced to flee The Daybreaker's wrath, but not before she issued a command that sent her biters swarming towards Spike.

Ducky rushed to her brother, tackled two attackers to the ground; yanked one from his flank while tail whacking another; evaded a retaliator, took a glancing slash, sent her aggressors flying with a sweeping tail; vaulted Spike, dove into a biter clinging to his other side; rolled to her back, yanked another from his hide; completed the rotation with a unfriendly hug that involved squishing him; her tail smacked a biter as she whirled to a stand with the rolling momentum. She didn't think, didn't hesitate, heedlessly hurling herself at deadly foes she had no chance of taking on alone.

Luckily, she wasn't alone.

The others responded to Spike's situation as quickly as Ducky. Littlefoot's tail cleared clinging biters, while fiercely dissuading those on Ducky's blindside. Petrie was there when they dared attack atop Spike's back; Cera herded away those converging; Pterano was on Ssavi's heels and Dawn? By design, she was the last thing on their minds. Dawn stayed out of their way, not quite ready to interfere with years of teamwork coming into play. That wasn't to say she was doing nothing. There was a reason why the fast biters who reached them weren't quite as many as they could be.

Nonetheless, aiding Ducky and Spike cost the team dearly.

Cera's movements grew slow and sloppy as biters bombarded her pressure points. They endlessly harassed Littlefoot's legs and spine, though those on his back were being picked off by a blur of amber, orange and peach. To his credit, Spike was still standing, but his tail flailed in failed attempts at defense. Every time Petrie descended, he barely made it back into the air in one piece.

Pterano fared considerably better.

Not for lack of trying, no fast biter could lay a claw on him as he chased down Ssavi. The few pounces that reached him were evaded with effortless finesse.

Ssavi had heard the stories. Daybreaker was a menace to sharptooth kind, but for her? He was just a nuisance ruining her fun: a nuisance who happened to be just as skilled as she was.

"Wait your turn, Daybreaker!" Ssavi snarled. "I do not crave your kind today! With so many choices, we'd leave you to rot If you weren't infamous!"

"Save your petulant prattling and face me, coward!" Pterano shouted.

A guttural growl rumbled in Ssavi's chest. Insulting her courage was one way to die quickly.

She stopped, turned to face him, ducked his swoop. The plan was to attack his underbelly as he passed. That little plan died when talons too fast for comfort made a solid argument that she roll evasively.

Before he could ascend, she dashed after him, pounced.

He saw her shadow, twisted upside down and caught her talons to talons before she could land on his back.

Ssavi felt the blood rush to her head as he dragged her into the sky upside down.

~No. Thank. You,~ was her decisive thought. She could live without the flashback of getting snatched by a sharpbeak as a neglected hatchling.

Pterano didn't get far before she hoisted herself to snap at his face. He drew back his head in the nick of time and whipped it forward for a powerful peck. She thrashed a dodge. He felt her jaws clap shut just shy of his neck when he yanked it away. Carrying her like this was proving too dangerous, so he hurled her back to Earth.

Littlefoot saw her reflexively twist to land on her feet. It didn't look like she had time to make that happen. Fear flashed across her face as she aborted the impulse and struck the ground back first. The impact was brutal, but not terminal. Despite indubitable pain, relief relaxed her features.

Even as other matters of the battle demanded Littlefoot's attention, he pondered the observation. Why would she try so hard to land on her back? Was she guarding her legs? Her side? ... Her stomach?

Ssavi surged to her feet and dashed for a tree with Pterano on her heels. She leapt against it and ricocheted towards him. He banked. She twisted midair as they passed each other. By a stunning combination of competence and chance, she aligned her feet with his head and unleashed a devastating kick.

Flyer and fast biter hurtled apart and landed awkwardly. Ssavi rolled to her feet and shook off the fall. Pterano did not.

Ssavi grinned.

Her biters cheered.

Ducky's face twisted in empathetic pain that morphed to anger.

Petrie would have shrieked, but he did not have the time. It took everything he had to outpace the biters racing to finish his uncle. Latching on, he hoisted his uncle into the air, knowing he had little chance of clearing the ground in time.

Behind him was a whoosh, sounds of vicious impact, sharptoothed cries of surprise, anger and shock punctuated by flapping and ... pecks? But Pterano was unconscious! Confused though he was, Petrie pooled all his efforts into lifting his uncle. A rush of sunset tones landed beside him.

"Grab his right wing! I got the left! Lift!" Dawn commanded.

A startled Petrie shifted his grip accordingly and the two hoisted Pterano into the air. Petrie had misgivings: without Valley Guard training, Dawn's wings were sure to clash with his. They never did, even as the two flapped at different rates due to their varying weights, she matched his lift. He had to ask.

"Dawn, you've done this before?"

"Yeah, I must have!" she confirmed(?)

Petrie raised an eyebrow. ~'Must have'?~

He looked down to see the fast biters once a moment from tearing him apart now splayed on the ground.

Ssavi had seen firstpaw what befell Pterano's would-be maulers. She would have liked to believe the culprit was at least a sharpbeak, but she'd never seen a sharpbeak fight like that. Her fast biters had trained for The Valley Guard. The founding five were their greatest focus, but this flyer? She was like the crawlers that tricked the eye into thinking they were sticks. Whatever she had looked like, whatever she had behaved like, she was something else entirely: the kind of thing that could ruin a hunt. Thankfully, that 'Murfy' stuck to the sidelines, knowing his hazardous fighting style would ruin everything. Every second, he visibly battled the impulse to intervene, but his self control was admirable. She would thank him by saving him for last once his friends met their fates. Already, she heard the sweet sound of a mighty longneck collapsing to a knee, saw the threehorn on the brink of being overwhelmed. Spike had stopped struggling after carefully applied sleeper bites. Arrtafiss would never get his legendary battle. She and her party would render the valley dwellers just well enough to limp back to the rest of the pack, living trophies who to be savoured slowly. Well, all except her little swimmer.

It wouldn't be long now.

(~Arrival in 30 minutes~)

The reaction was instant.

Ssavi didn't know what soundless signal had triggered it, but she saw fire in their eyes.

Pressure points bombarded, most of Littlefoot's body was sluggish, but his tail seemed to develop a mind of its own, and that mind was stark raving mad. It cracked about like a living thing, faster and fiercer than ever, sending all those who afflicted him flying.

He lunged for his nearest friend. His legs failed. He flopped back to his knees, but his tail was already a terror to the biters overwhelming Cera. They ducked, dove, dashed. It sought them out with shocking precision.

Cera, sluggish though she was, threw herself about, squishing senseless those that remained.

Littlefoot lurched towards Spike.

Terrified, the sharpteeth responsible for sleeper bites failed to notice Spike crack an eyelid. Falling for Spike's ruse of passing out before the bites did their job cost the sharpteeth falling to his tail. The lucky ones scattered, for all the good it did them.

"LITTLEFOOT! BEHIN-!"

His tail knocked out Not-Ducky.

"STOP! THERE'S-!"

Not-Cera was silenced.

Ssavi found herself stepping back. Her subordinates abandoned all attempts at vocal mimicry as they scrambled for their lives. That longneck, that accursed longneck, had not only learnt to identify their voices. He'd zeroed in on the imitators, figured out the way her biters moved, and it took all their speed and trickiness to evade the scantest pawful of his attacks! For the first time, Ssavi noticed how he'd pulled his attacks in the past. For the first time, she noticed that his eyes were not merely brown. They were red, like hers, albeit a darker shade that made it harder to realise. Now, it was impossible to ignore as they glinted the same ferocity she saw when she looked at her reflection. Seeing that ferocity in the skin of a leafeater?

She had to admit: it was scary.

Ssavi had scoffed when The Hunter's Bond commissioned the immediate elimination of these Circle Breakers. She would scoff no more. They were monsters. For the first time, she feared for the lives of her fast biters.

Meanwhile, beneath Hanging Rock, a pair of teenage fast runners heard the titanic conflict echoing across the mountains.

"What kind of monster could make noises like those noises?" the purple female shuddered.

"It must be a longneck," the blue male reasoned.

She looked at him. "Have you ever heard a longneck do what you are hearing now? It's like sky fire, striking over and over, too fast for any longneck strikes I've ever heard."

He thought for a moment. "You're right ... unless ... it's Roaring Sky!"

She blinked at him. "Are you sure? Only two longnecks can fight with 'Roaring Sky', and those two longnecks are The Lone Dinosaur and Littlefoot. Ruby said Littlefoot's done that once and no more than once ..."

"But it has to be them, 'cause they're the only thing it could be!" the blue male declared with growing enthusiasm. "It's not just sky fire: those other sounds mean others with him! The Lone Dinosaur fights alone, Littlefoot and his friends must be out there!"

"What's to say it's not just a big pack of sharpteeth?" she asked.

He thought for a moment. "Good question ... but sharpteeth attack with their teeth and claws mostly. Leafeaters fight more with blunt hits, and more blunt are what we're hearing!"

Her face lit up. "Do you think Ruby is with them?"

"If she's anywhere near here, it's near there. I mean, it's not like she's our sister or anything ..." he added almost ruefully.

The female placed a reassuring paw on his shoulder. "Don't be upset with her. Mommy and Daddy told her to live in the valley, and live in the valley she did ... until ..."

"Until she left when that sharptooth left," the male sighed.

The female gave a sad shrug. "She was old enough to make her own decisions."

He perked up. "Yes, and so are we."

She gasped as he leapt over the edge, springing between narrow ledges on the nearly vertical incline before wall sliding the rest of the way as it sloped. Most fast runners could only dream of such feats. He was proud to think that he wasn't 'most fast runners'.

"Zircon? What are you doing?" she hissed in a whisper, as though raising her voice would somehow land them in trouble.

"Our parents taught us everything they taught her, and more," he declared. "Besides, she showed us how to 'Speedrun'," he hesitated. "Still not sure how she learnt to move that fast just by dreaming about it, but the point is we're big enough to fight like she did when she and Dad had that big fight with Screech and Thud."

"But ... Mommy and Daddy said-!"

"Mom and Dad are gone for who-knows-how-long," he interrupted. "They're trying to find Ruby, so finding Ruby is what we should try too. What if they don't find her before the sleep story comes true? What if she needs help, and we're the only ones around to help her?"

"If her friends are fighting with her, why would she need us with her fighting too?" asked the female.

Zircon tapped an impatient foot. "If she's well off with the help she has, she'll be even more well off when we help her. Come on, we'll be heading to the valley anyway, so we might as well head there with our sister."

She emitted a whine usually reserved for nausea.

"Don't sweat it, Amethyst! Just leave a message before you leave!" Zircon snapped.

"O-okay," Amethyst stuttered before rapidly scribbling stick figures into the dirt, depicting the two of them joining crude representations of a longneck, threehorn, spiketail, swimmer and flyer, locked in battle with a couple sharpteeth, before heading to the great valley. The sequence of events played out left to right. Oddly enough, she and her family never needed to establish that directional rule. It simply felt most natural, but true to their circular way of thinking, individual concepts were arranged in circles wherever possible.

"Amethyst, are you adding unnecessary details again?" demanded Zircon.

"What you call 'unnecessary' isn't what I call unnecessary," she argued, hastily attempting to improve the valley's portrayal. She and her family had been slowly simplifying the markings to the point where only they could easily decipher them. For instance, longnecks' bodies were ovals, with a sinuous line for a neck connecting to a circle head above. Threehorns, also oval-bodied, had discs for heads with three lines for horns. Spiketails were likewise oval-bodied, circle-headed with a line with four spikes at the tip for their tails. Legs were unnecessary. The valley? ... she was still working on that. It was imperative that her parents know exactly what it was supposed to be, even in its hyper-simplified form.

"Clearly, I've never had to mark the valley before," Amethyst admitted. "I'm not sure how to mark it in a clear way."

"Trees, surrounded by walls," Zircon stated simply. "Our parents have the common sense to figure out whatever markings you end up marking."

Amethyst examined her work with a digit to her chin. What an eyesore. Clever though it was, she didn't like leaving these crude messages. Figuring out Zircon's scribbles was always a pain. She tried to do better, but her art skills and the half-hearted cooperation of dirt made clarity an elusive prospect.

"Are you done now?" he called.

Amethyst stepped back for a final appraisal.

She sighed. "I guess I'm done, I guess ..."

Too many steps.

"Eek!" she yelped, plummeting off the cliff's edge.

Though fear gripped her heart, her mind and reflexes were sharp as ever. She twisted through the air and righted herself without a moment to spare. The gnarled excuse for a ledge was right beneath her, threatening a nasty collision.

~Nope,~ she mentally decided.

Refusing to land atop it, she deflected off the rock with a light nudge of the foot. Falling just short of a clean landing on the next ledge, she nudged away from it as well. Better safe than sorry.

Zircon smirked. She was like the falling equivalent of a picky eater. He took the risks. He had the callouses to prove it. Nonetheless, he had to admit that her skill was nothing short of his own, even if applied differently.

Deft nudges didn't slow her fall sufficiently, though. With no more ledges to help her decelerate, she stretched her legs to meet the ground speeding towards her. Just as her feet touched down, she bent them, swiftly enough to avoid a sharp collision, yet forcefully enough to ease her to the floor as she fell. Her thought process had accelerated, endowing the necessary precision. The flow of time slowed in her mind as she poured every ounce of strength she dared into pushing the ground without tearing a muscle. She was running out of leg.

~Slowdown!Slowdown!SLOWDOWN!~ Amethyst inwardly begged. Her outward response wasn't quite so articulate: "aaaaaaaaAAAAAAA-! Eep."

The scream cut short when she ran out of leg and landed on her stomach, crouched to the max. For moments, she sat there, stunned by the ordeal.

Zircon clapped. "Sis, that was awesome! Sis? Are you okay, Sis?" asked Zircon.

Amethyst tentatively rose and stretched each leg experimentally.

"Strange as it seems, I'm seemingly fine," she replied, frowning at her feet as though skeptical.

He put a paw on her shoulder. "How does it feel, embracing your inner rebel?"

"Uncomfortable," she replied meekly.

"Like growing up, huh?" he persisted.

"Into a bad person," she insisted.

He frowned. "Well, you'll feel better when we help Ruby. C'mon, race ya!"

He took off. The thud of a body hitting the ground gave him pause. Amethyst's stressed-out-and-losing-it 'Munday Chuckle' turned his head. There she lay. It seemed her legs had given out after the first step.

"Can you walk?" he asked.

"Nope!" she chirped between laughter. "I guess my legs weren't up for standing up yet."

He looked off, no doubt tempted by the call of adventure. She half expected him to leave her to 'catch up'. Instead, his offer came as a surprise.

"... Would you like me to carry you?"

Amethyst blinked up at him, scanning his face for sarcasm or annoyance. There was none.

She smiled. "You know, you can be a pretty good brother when you're good and ready."

He hoisted her onto his back. "'When I'm good and ready'? What's that supposed to-?"

His legs quavered as he tottered, almost falling. He opened his mouth.

"If you dare breathe a word about my weight ..." she warned.

He closed his mouth.

They needed a game-changer. Ssavi was aware of the power of a good hostage, and she knew just the swimmer for the jo-

"I do not like you," announced the aforementioned swimmer.

Ssavi blinked. Not something she expected to hear.

She turned to the swimmer. "Excuse me?"

Ducky's blue eyes were icy. "I said ... I. Do. Not. Like. You."

Ssavi burst into a chittering laugh. "Am I supposed to care?"

"You are about to care," Ducky darkly declared.

Ssavi quirked a smile. What a feisty little feast!

She blazed towards Ducky, a zigzagging streak of fiery red. The swimmer's eyes traced her, braced, arms raised.

Those arms snatched Ssavi right out of her charge. Ducky threw herself backwards, bending Ssavi's momentum to the ground. The fast biter lost consciousness on impact.

Ssavi stopped abruptly, fighting hard to mask her shock. Years of honing her calculative Sharp Mind had allowed her to vividly envision what would happen, had she followed through with the attack.

Ducky tilted her head.

"What is wrong? Are you scared?" she asked, an unsettling lack of pep in her voice.

Ssavi frowned. Prey was not allowed to tease her. Ever.

She dashed around the swimmer. Ducky's legs tensed, tail prepped.

Ssavi pounced Ducky's blindside. Her claws connected. Ducky's tail pressed the biter to her back. There was no escape when she threw herself backwards. Ssavi's claws did damage, but that meant little when Ducky had crushed her.

Ssavi snarled, aborting the attack.

The swimmer's newfound aggression was ruthless and reckless! Prey was dangerous in such a state, but also prone to mistakes. Sooner or later, Ducky would-

~Not prey,~ Ssavi's mind insisted.

The thought took her by surprise, enough so that she lost focus for the fraction of a moment Ducky needed to turn and lash out. Ssavi's scales stung slightly when Ducky's speeding paw made contact. The biter flinched away just enough to mitigate the impact. A second paw sped over her head as she ducked before rolling clear of a stomp. The attacks came rapid, relentless and fruitless. Ducky was fast, but only by swimmer standards. Ssavi was confident that her whole body could outpace Ducky's paws.

If Ducky was water, Ssavi was wind.

The biter darted in and doubled back from several angles. Each time, she predicted defeat, should she complete a heavy attack. Ssavi only managed light slashes and small, clawed kicks that Ducky easily absorbed.

"Sweetie, please hold still. It is time for your little life to end," Ssavi cooed in a motherly tone.

Despite her frenzied movements, Ssavi's speech was smooth, as though she wasn't moving much at all. She always sounded neither too near nor too far, adapting and projecting her voice so as to destroy any sense of proximity. This vocal dissonance could confuse the most focused prey, but Ducky simply wasn't listening to her. Contrary to Ssavi's teasing, the swimmer was only 'little' to most of her friends. Her weight class surpassed the fast biter by far.

If Ssavi was the raging wind, Ducky was The Big Water's great and monstrous wave.

Their little dance was going nowhere fast. Through attrition, and Ssavi intended to outlast her. Ducky slowed deliberately. Ssavi took that as a sign of fatigue, an opportunity.

How wrong she was.

The moment Ssavi pounced, Ducky's paw shot forward, pounding deep into her stomach. The breath blasted from Ssavi's lungs. Abject panic contorted her face, the likes of which Ducky had not witnessed in her life.

Ssavi flew back, rolled, coughed.

Ducky withdrew her paw, a touch of sympathy in her voice. "Please, stay down. It is ove-"

An ear-splitting scream shattered the atmosphere. It took a second to register that scream as Ssavi's, to believe how rapidly she'd writhed to her feet, fueled by fury.

"YOU 'DoNt LiKe Me'?" Ssavi shrieked. "FINE! I HATE YOU! DO YOU HEAR ME? I HAAATE YOOUU!"

She raged towards Ducky. No zigzagging, no hesitation. Ducky grabbed her, commenced a body slam. Ssavi's wild kick somehow found a pressure point near her knee. Ducky's body slam unraveled. She fell, caught herself with her tail. Ssavi twisted free, bit and yanked the tail from beneath her. The swimmer thudded to the ground. Her hindlegs and forelimb went limp as Ssavi pounded their pressure points, but the remaining arm? The one Ssavi damaged at the start of the fight? Her jaws claimed that one as she stood atop the swimmer's back, teeth doing their worst as she wrenched with all her might.

Horror choked the gasps in her friends' throats. Spike's shout was heart-rending.

Never had Littlefoot heard Ducky scream like that, never had he seen her arm bend so far beyond the natural. He had to stop this, now. With nothing to throw, no way to quickly close the distance, his frantic attempt to reach her left more than enough time for fatality. What could he do to against this fast biter gripped with murderous madness?

Realisation struck Littlefoot like lightning.

One moment, Ssavi was cool and collected. The next, she threw 'petulant' tantrums. She claimed not to 'crave' a flyer that day when sharpteeth seldom craved flyer on any day. She protected her stomach at all costs and absolutely lost it upon failing. One explanation stood above all others.

That explanation made him furious.

Littlefoot's livid snarl tore across the battlefield.

Ssavi froze.

All biters froze the moment it hit their ears. His biting accusation, in the sharptooth tongue no less, was as mind-bashing and soul-jolting as it could ever be.

He had called Ssavi a horrible mother.

She loosened her grip and stared at him. His burning glare bore through her. Ducky seized the opportunity to bat her away with her tail. The fast biter barely seemed to care, giving Ducky a distracted growl as she rolled to her feet and returned her eyes to Littlefoot.

Meanwhile, Spike managed to reach Ducky and stand between her and Ssavi. Petrie and Dawn descended to attend her. Their beaks dropped at the sight of her arm.

"I ... I c-cannot ... I cannot feel it ...!" Ducky stammered in rushed breaths. "H ... how bad is it?"

Spike glanced back at her. His eyes froze on her arm, unreadable. He returned his attention to guarding against further attacks. If he didn't want to look at it, she definitely didn't want to look at it. Squeezing it to her body told her enough. She felt as though it would fall off otherwise.

The flyers exchanged glances. Neither had the heart to reply.

Petrie applied pressure to the arm.

Dawn adjusted his wing. "Try it like this. It'll stop the ... uh ... you know, faster."

Petrie noticed an immediate improvement. Somehow, his injury mitigation training didn't cover that.

"How did you know?" Petrie asked numbly.

"Too much practice, probably." She cleared her throat. "I'll be back with some plants that should help."

Ssavi would have savoured their distress, but her mind was still reeling from Littlefoot's declaration.

"W ... what?" Ssavi repressed the quaver of her jaw and forced some venom into her voice. "What ... Did. You. Just. Call. Me?"

The other fast biters looked to her in question. One scoffed that the longneck had lost his mind. Ssavi was not a mother! Everyone knew that!

Ssavi hissed a demand: Silence!

Obedience was immediate.

Hunting wasn't a game, Littlefoot snarled. It was life or death! This was the worst possible day to challenge him and his friends! They were short of time and desperate, more than ever before! Desperate people were dangerous! She was smart! She must have figured that out on some level! What kind of mother WAS she?! His mother died defending him from Sharptooth, and here was Ssavi, endangering her child or children in an unnecessary battle!

"Unlike me, your mother was a WEAK FOOL!" Ssavi spat back. "If not, she would still BE here!"

Littlefoot's face darkened. He began to speak.

"Don't you DARE lecture me!" Ssavi interrupted. "You are every bit as WEAK and STUPID as your mother! When The Bright Circle sets, you will be gone! The Wall of Fear will fall! We will walk straight into your valley and I will PERSONALLY reunite your grandparents with you and your IDIOTIC MOTHER!"

Cera gasped. Secondpaw outrage gnarled her face. She stepped forward. Ssavi had earned a uniquely savage pounding.

Littlefoot lifted a tail in front of her.

Cera looked up at him, saw and felt the silent wrath emanating from him, but he made no move against Ssavi. Fine. If he could exercise such self-control, so would she. Ssavi wasn't the type to appreciate his restraint, though. That would cost her. Cera looked forward to seeing what would happen.

Littlefoot always had a plan.

The longneck took a deep breath and forced himself to exhale slowly.

He switched back to leafeater. "The Valley Guard won't make that easy ... How about I save you the battle? Come to the valley, as our guests. If that goes well, you can stay."

Cera did a mental double, triple and quadruple take. That ... was not ... what she expected.

The fast biters stopped. They stopped in every conceivable way, from fidgeting to breathing.

Ssavi shifted her weight as she struggled to find her voice. "... Ohhhh ... that makes sense ... keep your friends close, your enemies closer. Over the years, you've been prepping the valley for Chomper's return. You've been over prepping, way over prepping, which means you're not expecting just him. You knew sharpteeth were coming, and you planned accordingly, yes?"

Littlefoot slowly nodded. "Yes."

Cera's eyes widened. Now that she thought about it, that was obvious! How hadn't she realised this? How did Ssavi know so much in the first place?

Ssavi continued: "And ... by showing us 'kindness', you were hoping we would convince the rest of the pack to release the herd, maybe even fight alongside you should the need arise!"

His head hung. "... Yes ..."

Ssavi throbbed a hearty laugh, the only sound amid the stunned onlookers.

"Dear, sweet Littlefoot," she purred.

His eyes widened, twitched. "Please don't call me that."

She ignored him. "You and I? We're not so different after all! You only do what is beneficial for you, and so do I! It's The Great Circle of Life! You can bend it, but you can never truly break it," her tone shifted, "so don't ever speak to me like that again in the brief remainder of your life."

Littlefoot briefly closed his eyes with a sigh. "Ssavi, you clearly know a lot about me. Tell me, in all the years of The Valley Guard, how many sharpteeth died at our paws?"

Ssavi spread her jaws to answer. Her jaw loosened and simply hung there. She scoured through her impeccable memory, all the intel, all the stories, even rumours. Nothing proved his implication invalid. Then she scanned her biters: incapacitated, unconscious or clinging to consciousness by a thread. Surely he'd shattered no shortage of bones. Surely many of them would limp for the rest of their lives, but they were all breathing. No ... how could it be? With the kind of force he and his guard were using ...?

"Do you have any idea how hard that is? How dangerous that is?" Littlefoot pressed. "Why? Why would we do that?"

Ssavi found herself slightly shaking her head.

Littlefoot's mouth moved, but eloquence failed him. For all his Advanced Imagination, he couldn't articulate what elaborate reasoning lay beneath his actions. Perhaps ... there was nothing elaborate about it. It was what it was, beyond mortal logic, beyond moral doubt. Finally, he spoke.

"Because you matter."

Ssavi's mind went blank, for the first time she could remember. After several, long, moments, two thoughts emerged from the visceral realms of her psyche.

~Not prey. Not monsters.~

From those thoughts sprung a dizzying question. If not ... then what under The Bright Circle were the beings before her?

~Heroes.~

Again, her mind went blank. No ... that ... that couldn't be right. 'Hero' was a matter of perspective. A leafeater's hero could only be a sharptooth's monster. Whatever they were to leafeater kind, she couldn't see them as heroes.

~But ... I do ...~

An uncomfortable purr rumbled in Ssavi's chest. She looked around. Her biters stared back, mirroring the question plaguing her mind.

What now?

Ssavi squared her shoulders. Beta or not, The Circle of Life reigned supreme. Turning against it meant learning just how quickly her pack would forget all camaraderie and treat her like a leafeater. At the end of the day, self-interest was the driving force of life. Even 'heroes' could not escape that fact.

"Alright. I get it," Ssavi nodded. "This is all about you, isn't it? All this heroic hoopla because you feel bad about how things went with Chomper."

"And Red Claw," Littlefoot added. "There are far easier ways to make it all about me, though. Your argument doesn't hold."

"And yet you had Red Claw fall to his doom, just like Sharptooth," she mused, subtly stepping towards him in a casually conversant manner. "Is it me, or am I seeing a pattern here, Mr. Perfect?"

"... You're right," Littlefoot admitted, striding between her and Ducky just as casually. "Truth is, I don't know if I know THE right thing to do. Too often, I fall short of my own idea of 'right' ... but at least I'm trying."

Ssavi stopped, attempting to swallow the knot in her throat. How could she let him mess with her like this? Why couldn't he just fight her like a self-respecting warrior? She tried to shake the feeling. No ... his words weren't wise or touching. Clearly something was very, very wrong with this longneck. Even his scent aura was odd, quite literally sweet. It had earned him the nickname of 'Sweet Littlefoot' among those who dared dream of making a meal of him. It was puzzling, but not worth profound thought. Now, however, she pondered it seriously. Such a scent was strange for a grown longneck, but quite common among their young. It extended to their taste so that they made a fine dessert. As far as she knew, all longnecks lost that scent upon reaching maturity, around the time they traded their child names for adult ones. Another anomaly. He still called himself 'Littlefoot'. Finally, it clicked.

Littlefoot hadn't grown up.

His size, intelligence and battle prowess hid it well, but he had grown in appearance alone. Everything he said and did was filtered through childish innocence, but the wider world had no place for that. Reality was a battlefield, and she was a veteran. He was in her world, and that gave her an inherent advantage.

He was speaking again, but Sharp Mind had accelerated and squeezed her thoughts into a moment. She'd reached her conclusion before he even opened his mouth.

"Look, Ssavi, Red Claw forced our paw," asserted Littlefoot. "You're a mother. Please, please do not make the same mista-"

Ssavi surged forth. The world seemed to slow as it always did when she exerted Sharp Mind. Her biters converged on the leafeaters, though Littlefoot's eyes followed her intently. She expected no less. He was ready to end this. The feeling was mutual.

She banked left and right with ferocious rapidity.

His tail tore towards her, preempting her path: no small feat, but it would do him no good. She broke left. In this state of mind, next to nothing could match her reaction time.

'Next to nothing' was his tail. It followed her.

The hit seemed to go straight through Ssavi's body, her entire being. At first, she didn't even feel it. White noise, numb nerves, vision blurred beyond comprehension. From the sensory fuzziness, pain emerged like a creeping mist. Ribs ... broken. Definitely broken.

A wafting sensation met her back. Wind. She could hear it howling across rock and landscape, near and far. It sounded and felt like ... the edge of a cliff?

Even after she'd opened her eyes, it took seconds for Ssavi's vision to clear and confirm that deduction. Just a few steps short of the sheer drop. She could have fallen. Should have fallen. Littlefoot was more than strong enough to send her over. The intense sensation of bruising everywhere revealed that she'd rolled as opposed to hurtled through the air. Did he ... do that on purpose? After what she'd said and done, what kind of longneck would-?

~Hero.~

She mentally snarled at the thought and rolled her head away from the cliff - an agonising effort. Ssavi spotted Murfy awkwardly standing nearby. Had she really gone that far? She rolled some more and saw her pack, staring dumbstruck. That would not do. She ordered them to attack. Nothing came out of her mouth. Lungs, empty, unresponsive. Ssavi's defiance flared. Breathing ... she would work on that, but she didn't need air to move. Good leaders led by example.

Pain exploded from her hip. That only served to increase her determination. She dragged her limbs beneath her and began to rise, hauling air back into her lungs through sheer determination.

Her subordinates broke into cries of admiration and encouragement.

Standing tall, Ssavi grinned. Letting her live would be Littlefoot's last mistake. She and their biters? They were the heroes. For the leafeaters, that made them the worst kind of monsters. It was the will of The Circle of Life.

For some reason, Murfy felt the urge to reach towards Ssavi and stomp on a seemingly random patch of rock. Against his better judgement, he followed the impulse. Cracks shot from his foot and across the plateau before Ssavi.

Her grin vanished.

The footing beneath her fell away. Ordinarily, dashing to safety would have been easy. She made her best effort, failing to realise the extent of hip muscle damage. Her first step sent her stumbling to the ground as it crumbled.

Littlefoot looked away, though her shriek fading down the mountainside would haunt his dreams.

Murfy fidgeted under the weight of his deed. "Uh ... oops?"

Littlefoot's downcast eyes lingered on the ground in a moment of silence before turning a stern glare upon the remaining biters.

They ducked their heads like hatchlings.

Cera frowned. Where were the elite warriors from a moment ago? What a joke. Then again, sharpteeth did tend to have a cowardly streak. By necessity, they picked battles they were sure to win. When that didn't work out, their confidence crumbled.

Littlefoot hissed for them to take their debilitated packmates and get out of his sight.

They fumblingly hastened to fulfil his order. There weren't enough able-bodied biters left to shoulder the incapacitated. Much to their relief, Littlefoot and his friends didn't stick around to oversee them.

Thanks for reading!

A special thanks to Gutza1, probably the most dino / science savvy guy I know, whose insightful feedback has been a greatly helpful and thought-provoking.

The sweet scent of young longnecks that Ssavi reflected on is based on the fact that Dil and Ichy described Ali from 'Journey Through the Mists' as a dessert. Though Ssavi's 'dear, sweet Littlefoot' taunt was partially derived from his scent, that's coincidentally the last thing his mother called him. Of course, Ssavi would be pleased to know that she accidentally struck a nerve.

Review and follow the story to find out what happens when (REDACTED).