Chapter 7
Falling Apart
Pterano stirred. A jarring headache pounded in his skull. What happened?
His eyes shot open.
He whirled to his wings and feet, ready to face the fiend who had-
"It's okay, uncle. The fight's over," Petrie consoled.
A dazed Pterano looked about snappily. They were occupying a cave. Littlefoot was peering inside without lowering his head to do so. It must have been elevated.
His nerves calmed as he scanned the youngsters' conditions. Petrie? Uninjured, though the shadows of a harrowing ordeal made him look older than he was. Dawn? Her movements showed no sign of fatigue. All the exhaustion was on her face, quietly pensive. Littlefoot? An idling intensity exuded from his features. The underlying compassion was still in his eyes, but they looked somehow harder, wearied, troubled. Pterano hoped whatever transpired hadn't wounded Littlefoot's soul. He had endured so much, grown wise and mighty, yet the world had never robbed him of that innocence Pterano lost long ago. Ducky?
...?
...?!
"DUCKY?!" he panicked.
"Um ... yes?" Ducky squeaked wincingly.
He rushed over to her. "WHAT BECAME OF YOUR ARM?!"
The swimmer forced a smile. "Do not worry! It does not hurt. Dawn fixed me up."
He examined the limb, recognising the vines and leaves binding it to her body as derivative of flyer nest design. However, even under all the green he could see that something was very, very wrong.
"You say it does not hurt?" probed Pterano.
"Yep, yep, yep!" she beamed.
"Can you feel it in any way whatsoever?" he pressed.
Her face fell. She looked away.
He squeezed his eyes shut and massaged his temple.
"Pterano, you do not owe me anything," Ducky assured.
"YES, I DO!" Pterano exploded. "I should be the first to suffer should ANYONE come to harm! You are ..." he choked. "You are all so young ..."
No one knew what to say.
Murfy sighed heavily. Too short to peer into the cave outright, he almost leaned on the rock wall beneath it so as to climb to his hind legs. He decided against that at the last moment. Sturdy as the stone seemed, things had a habit of breaking when he touched them.
"Hey," Murfy called. "If you gotta blame anyone, blame me. I just stood there the whole time. If I'd stepped in, Ducky might have-"
"-joined Ssavi along with the others when you collapsed the whole mountainside," Dawn interrupted, moving to the cave's edge to speak to him face to face.
He looked dejected.
"Sorry," Dawn amended. "What I mean is you were smart to sit that one out. This team has been fighting together for years. It shows. Even I think twice before interfering when they're in the zone. Don't you think jumping in would have thrown them off?"
Murfy shrugged, not particularly comforted.
"Look, you dealt with Ssavi. That's enough," Dawn assured.
(~Arrival in 20 minutes.~)
Littlefoot scanned their faces with heightened urgency.
"Yeah, we heard it too," Cera confirmed.
"Pterano, Murfy, could you stay with Ducky?" Littlefoot asked. "I don't think the biters can reach that cave too easily, but keep watch."
"Of course," Pterano nodded, though his eyes were on the ground.
"Will do," Murfy agreed.
"The rest of you ready to go?" asked Littlefoot.
Vaguely disillusioned affirmatives answered his question. That didn't do it for Cera.
She stomped the ground, jolting them to attention.
"Chins up! Battle faces on! Horns forward!" Cera commanded.
"Who are you referring to?" Dawn jested.
"Cut the sass. That's my thing,"Cera bantered. "We are Valley Guard ... and Dawn ... how many times have we fought those biters? Four. How many victories do they have? NONE. Did we all make it through in one piece? NO! Does that make you ANGRY? GOOD! USE that! CHANNEL that! Fight HARDER and SMARTER than EVER! We EAT IMPOSSIBLE ODDS for BREAKFAST! WE! NEVER! LOSE! LET'S GO!"
The Earth shuddered under her steps as she strode forth like a storm on the horizon. The others followed, visibly heartened by her words, even as they approached a canyon where the wind moaned ominous promises.
Littlefoot smiled after her. What would they do without Cera? Unbidden, a memory surfaced in his mind, bolstered by Advanced Imagination.
"I'm not training you," Doc stated simply.
~Ease up, Cera,~ a younger Littlefoot mentally begged. ~If you prove you're worth training, then maybe Doc'll-~
"What?!" Cera shrieked. "Listen, Gramps! You can't not train me! Threehorns are born to fight, and if you can't see the potential in front of you, you're going blind in your old age!"
Littlefoot drooped. ~Okay. I'm officially ready for this moment of my life to end.~
"The contrary, actually," Doc agreed. "When you've been around long as I have, you see patterns – things that start out one way and end up another, like the way you and Littlefoot relate to one and other as kids."
"What's that supposed to mean?" spat the triceratops, tapping a foot in irritation.
Doc sighed. "Hopin' I'm wrong. In any event, you're too volatile."
She shot Littlefoot a glare. He blatantly tried to ignore her.
~I can't believe this!~ Cera thought. ~What makes Littlefoot worthy whenhe's only-?
~...
~... He's only the kid who figured out how to beat Sharptooth. He's only the kid who drags us out on adventures crazier than legends, and drags us back in one piece every time. He's only a kid ... what happens when he grows up?~
"So you're saying Littlefoot's gonna be the next 'Lone Dinosaur' and I'm stuck being ... me?" Cera argued almost meekly.
When she put it like that, Littlefoot had to pity her.
"You could be a legend, just not a good one," Doc declared.
~Ouch!~ winced Littlefoot.
Cera scrunched her eyebrows, attempting to think her way around Doc's stubbornness. "Is this about the 'old dinosaur' comments? Don't take it personally, it's just how I am, especially now. Dad says I'm having 'adolescence' early, or something like that. If you think I was rude to you, you should hear what I told my dad just yesterday! As punishment, he sat on top of me until The Bright Circle was halfway across the sky. Tria was so upset herself that she didn't even bother to calm him down."
"So that's why you're nowhere to be found when he says you're being 'babysat'!" Littlefoot piped in. "You're literally right there, underneath his-"
"Can we NOT talk about that?!" Cera snapped.
Doc lowered his head beside Littlefoot. "Hop on, kid."
"Where are we going?" asked the youngster, climbing onto the grownup's head.
"Away," Doc answered without answering.
"Then I'm coming with you!" Cera insisted.
The Lone Dinosaur chuckled. "No choice, Missy."
With a sweep of his tail, he tore the dust from the canyon floor, enveloping Cera in a smokescreen.
As much as Littlefoot hated seeing Doc rebuff Cera, he stared in fascination. A tail could manipulate wind like that? It set his imagination on fire.
Racked in a fit of coughing, Cera's lungs finally caught a break when the dust cleared. She looked around. Not a soul was to be seen.
"I was trying to be NICE, you ungrateful BUMP HEAD!" Cera shouted after them.
The wind's groan had grown to a baleful howl, loud enough to conceal the subtle rustle of bushes or footfalls against stone, yet a raised voice could carry easily enough for effective communication. Littlefoot could see the ingenuity of the trap taking form.
"I think the biters are gonna use the wind to make it harder for us to hear them coming," Littlefoot stated, raising his voice above the wind for even the flyers to hear. "That way, they can lash out without holding back. Wherever we're going might be full of hiding places, probably trees and bushes, so that we can neither see nor hear them. Luckily, there aren't any hiding places here, so we're in the clear for now."
Cera smiled at him. "Littlefoot, I'm honestly glad you're not a sharptooth. That mind of yours is scary smart."
He smiled in return. "Well, we were trained in Advanced Imagination."
"And those fast biter elites were probably trained in 'Sharp Mind', as Chomper calls it," Cera parried, "yet apparently they hadn't figured out their own beta was a mother. How embarrassing is that?"
Littlefoot laughed. "Well, they're probably in too much pain to be ashamed of that part, so I guess it worked out for everyone!"
Cera chuckled. "Yeah, I guess so!"
"Petrie, Dawn, could you guys scout ahead?" Littlefoot projected. "I'd like to know what we're walking into!"
"Will do!" "Sure!" the flyers agreed respectively.
Petrie climbed the winds, followed by Dawn. Moments passed. The alpine air grew chillier. She looked down. The sight of the landscape beyond the mountainous path accentuated their height. Her breathing quickened. Her wings shook.
The sound of her belaboured breaths drew Petrie's attention. "Dawn, you okay?"
"Y-yeah!" she nodded almost shakily. "It's just a little cold this high up, and my exhaustion's starting to catch up with me."
Concern furrowed his brow. "Are you sure? I mean, we could stop climbing."
"No!" she insisted. "If we're gonna see far enough over this canyon, we gotta go high. I'll be fine!"
Petrie did not look convinced, but he relented. "If you say so."
Dawn reassured him with a smile before he returned his attention to the sky, its clouds so near, so huge.
~I'm fine,~ she mentally repeated. ~I'm brave. I'm reliable. The sky is lovely.~
Indeed, it was lovely. Bathed in the brilliant hues of sunrise, a younger Dawn thought it a fitting time for her first taste of the sky. Having recently learnt to fly, she had never wandered too far from the ground, patiently waiting for the perfect day to savour the heavens at their most magnificent. That day had arrived, a morning as beautiful as they came.
The air rushed by, crisp and clean. The Bright Circle's warmth bathed her wings, banishing the chill of the night and heights. Flight was not what she had dreamt it to be. Flight was far better. On a day such as this, it was beyond words.
She breached the marmalade clouds.
~The clouds will not drown me,~ Dawn told herself.
Her parents had not told her that clouds were thick, like water. Thicker, even. She had assumed that they were thin as air, so as to float. Much to her surprise, they were actually fluffy to the touch! If they felt the way they looked, what did they taste like? She opened her beak, nearly giggling at how silly it was to expect sweetness based on their colourful lighting. She would have giggled if she could, her lungs felt full and heavy, and the taste?
They tasted like blood.
"Hey, I think I see the herd! Dawn? Dawn!"
Dawn's whole body was shaking. ~No ... n-no! These clouds will not grab me!~
She attempted a scream. Nothing came out, only in. The clouds forced themselves into her lungs like a malicious, living thing. No longer were they fluffy. They clung like tar, if tar could grasp, pull, squeeze.
Dawn was dimly aware of Petrie screaming her name as the bone-white clouds grew farther. Tears lifted from her eyes, weightless as the whipping wind tore them apart.
Empowered by the mad rush of desperation, Dawn burst from the clouds, but they would not relinquish their prey. They stretched with her efforts, gripped her body like the tentacles of a Big Water monster. She flapped wildly to no avail. The tentacles drew her back at a leisurely pace, as though they had all the time in the world. Dawn twisted, pecked and scratched. Those ethereal tentacles ripped free, residual pieces still attached to her.
The cloud gunk in her lungs seemed to lose its strength, dissipating to mist as she coughed it out. Before she could think about bolting for the ground, the once welcoming air had grown icy. The Bright Circle's warmth still filled the heavens, but it was not for her. In its magnificence, she saw only maleficence.
Dawn felt a firm grip on her back and resisted it fiercely.
"This s-sky does not h-have c-claws!" she wailed to no avail.
Her wings were useless. A nameless, faceless horror had seized her, its deafening hum blaring in her ears, its evil chilling her to the bones. It dragged her into the sky she would never see the same way again.
"DAAAWWWN!" Petrie screeched.
...
The grasp of The Hum was gone, but something warm was shaking her. She fought back. Hard.
Dawn threw her beak forward, felt it puncture something soft. A sharp shove of the wings sent that soft, warm thing flying.
Dawn came to her senses, freezing at the sight of Petrie slumped against the base of a cliff.
"W-wow!" Petrie stammered, hastening to a stand. "You're really fast! And strong!"
He'd hidden it well, further distracting her with his comments. However, years of damage assessment rapidly drew her gaze to his wing.
"What is that?" asked Dawn, advancing for a closer look.
Petrie covered it all the more with his other wing. "It's nothing."
"Unfurl your wing," she commanded, gentle yet firm.
He haltingly did so and she froze at the sight of a beak-sized hole in his wings, her expression unreadable.
Petrie hid it once again. "It's ... it's not that bad," he insisted. "It'll heal when I rest up a bit."
The vivacious spark had vanished from her eyes as she squeezed them shut, massaging her temple. He couldn't bear to see her look this defeated.
"No, no, no!" Petrie softly consoled. He raised reassuring wings to place on her shoulders, halted flinchingly and returned them to the ground. He didn't know her well enough to comfortably enter her personal space like that. The injury did a good job of helping him catch himself. "I'll be fine, really!"
She looked at him. His thoughts skidded to a halt. There was no defeat in her eyes, but something stark ... intense ... too intense. It was like staring into The Bright Circle.
"You said you saw the herd," she recalled. "Where are they?"
Petrie balked. Her voice was calm, forcibly measured, but its searing edge was unmissable.
He pointed. "Circle of cliffs, trees in the middle, like a small valley."
She nodded curtly. "Head back to the others and try to stay fresh for the fight. I'll scout ahead."
His protest was silenced by the blast of her wings as she shot into the sky with speed he could scarcely match on a good day.
Petrie spread his wings to pursue her. The Daybreaker wouldn't be hampered by such a petty injury. From the taciturn tales he had coaxed from Pterano's beak, The Daybreaker had suffered far worse and kept going.
Petrie flinched to a stop.
Dawn did have a point, though. Preserving his energy was wise, especially in this condition. She knew where to go, and it only took one scout to do the job ... but what if she had another panic attack and fell from the sky? Dawn had seemed unflappable, even after a mauling ... err, near mauling. What could shake her up to the point where she plummeted out of the blue? He reviewed the last thing she had said before the incident. Was she afraid of heights? Well, it didn't matter. She needed him. She ...
... was already disappearing beyond the cliffs.
He returned his wings to the ground, deflating.
"So, you're the famous Petrie?"
The flyer caught blue at the side of his eye. He spun to face it.
"She doesn't seem like your type, although you don't seem like the type for any type, to be honest."
They 'LOST'? snarled Arrtafiss. HOW COULD THIS HAPPEN'?! They had Ssavi, The Clever Claws' finest next to him! For the swimmer she desired to still be in one piece, they must have botched the hunt on an UNPARALLELLED SCALE! Their performance that day would be under review by ALL SHARPTOOTH KIND! They would either rise to legend or sink beneath the status of the very creatures they hunted! He calmed himself, lowered his hackles. This was unproductive, he remarked. Ssavi would have already given him an earful. She was probably off venting somewhere, correct?
The gamma ranker flinched.
Arrtafiss bobbed his head understandingly. Very well. Where was she? He had to speak with her before the final battle.
Shuddering, the gamma began to choke out a response: B-Beta Matriarch S-Ssavi ... was ...
Arrtafiss tilted his head. The sharptooth language was designed for dense detail and efficiency essential in pack hunting. As such, its execution was nigh automatic, like breathing. It was not designed for trickery or concealment. Oftentimes, a sharptooth's thoughts slipped out, as their speech was hinged on the mysterious language of their minds. Whether or not the subordinate had intended it, he had unwittingly added a new detail to Ssavi's formal title.
Arrtafiss snorted. Of course they'd figure it out. They were Clever Claws. He was pleased to see that Ssavi had underestimated the pack. She'd be so flustered, in that cutely chaotic way of hers.
The gamma avoided eye contact.
The alpha's eyes narrowed. What was that thought, he asked?
No response.
Arrtafiss calmly, firmly, guided the beta's head to face his with a paw beneath the chin. What. Was. That. Thought?
The gamma's gaze wavered. They ... they hadn't figured it out, he confessed. The longneck h-had called her a terrible mother. Her reaction confirmed his statement.
Arrtafis' glare developed a deathly glint: 'confirmed' that she was a 'terrible mother'?
The gamma blanched: N-no! Of course not!
Arrtafiss hissed: His Ssavi had been through more than they could possibly imagine, and she always adapted, always became exceptional in whatever she put her claws to. Had they forgotten how quickly she'd climbed the ranks? She would be a great mother. The best mother!
A small whine escaped the gamma, drawing the snappy stare of his alpha.
Unusual and unbecoming, Arrtafiss commented. What was wrong? This was no time to hide vital information!
The gamma seemed about ready to collapse, but he forced himself to look the alpha in the eye: B-Beta Matriarch Ssavi was ... dead ...
That was all the gamma could handle before averting his eyes.
Seconds passed. Moments. Arrtafiss didn't move.
The gamma dared a glance at his alpha. That was the last he did before his senses abandoned him. He didn't even see the alpha move, didn't even feel the kick.
Horror rippled across the other biter's present at the ghastly crack of flesh and bone slamming into stone. The gamma crumpled to the floor as his alpha's shadow loomed over him. Attempting not to react, the biters kept their heads lowered as their alpha loomed over the unconscious gamma.
Something caught a sentry's eye. Arrtafiss noticed, tracing her gaze to something atop the rocky structures surrounding the area. He saw nothing. She chittered details on where to look. He adjusted to suit, spotting a flyer peeking over the edge of the walls. If not for her vivid colours, they might not have spotted her.
Her distance-attuned eyes met his.
"'Advanced Imagination'," Doc declared. "That's what we'll call it. The two sides of it will be 'First Thought' and 'Second Thought'. Amazes me how creative a kid can be. I'm sure you'll be imagining things I never considered."
Young Littlefoot plopped himself against the short grass, straining his brain to live up to that expectation.
"Don't stress about it," Doc encouraged. "Just relax. It's okay to let your mind wander sometimes."
Littlefoot nodded, although he found it hard not to pressure himself to impress his mentor. In time, he began to relax; feel the breeze; hear it whisper in the trees. It really was pleasant out there. As much as he loved his friends, he understood how Doc could find peace in silent solitude.
He twitched as something brushed against his face. Littlefoot opened his eyes and saw the culprit – a flock of leaves swirling in the wind. He'd seen such a thing before, but it always fascinated him. Why would wind decide to move in circles instead of the winding path it usually took? Sometimes, those circles were huge. Vicious. Deadly. He'd seen a few twisters ravaging the landscape – a testament of the unpredictable possibilities of the world he lived in.
Littlefoot's eyes slowly widened as they took on the glint of an epiphany. Doc glanced at the youngster, noticing the change in body language. He smiled. The kid was onto something.
"Let's hear it, Littlefoot," Doc encouraged.
The young longneck shrank in self-consciousness. "It's kind of silly. Probably impossible."
"Won't know until we try it," Doc coaxed.
Littlefoot sheepishly smiled up at him. "Well … remember when we lost Cera in the canyon?"
The canyon's eerie howl was lost in the background of Littlefoot's consciousness as he closed his eyes, focusing.
A shadow of a smile played on Cera's beak. She knew the look of a Littlefoot deep in Advanced Imagination ... for all the good that would do.
(~Arrival in 1 hour 32 minutes.~)
Her smile brightened. The ambient tension lightened. She didn't know what miracle had extended their time limit, but it was a heartening reminder of the possibilities that presented themselves if they held on together.
He opened his eyes, smiling as well.
"So, what's the plan?" asked Cera.
Littlefoot looked at her. "Hard to plan anything before Petrie and Dawn tell us what they saw."
"But you've started anyway," Cera stated.
He smirked. "Of course I have."
"Well, it's not like we've got anything better to talk about," she urged.
Spike nodded and sat, making himself comfortable.
Littlefoot chuckled. "Okay. The biters were incredibly picky in choosing where to engage us at full force. It's likely they've chosen a place that gives them huge advantages. Be prepared for lots of obstacles, somewhere our sizes would make things tricky. Seeing as they're holding a herd, it's possible they'll try pressuring us into submission by threatening lives. They may also set traps, so let's avoid standing under something they could drop on us, and watch out for hidden holes and such wherever you step."
Cera grunted. "In all the years we've fought sharpteeth, I'm surprised they've never tried these things."
"Despite their intelligence, I think most sharpteeth are under traditions or rules that prevent certain behaviours," Littlefoot theorised.
"Like replying to you when you speak sharptooth?" asked Cera.
"Exactly," Littlefoot confirmed. "Controlling leafeaters by threatening others is probably considered dishonourable or something."
"But these guys are different, right? They talk to us, in leafeater."
Littlefoot nodded.
"How do we handle this?"
"Priority One: if they're threatening leafeaters, we'll have to save them all at once. Our fastest and sneakiest would be best for the job - Petrie, Spike, Dawn, and potentially me."
Cera raised an eyebrow. "I didn't realise you were that sneaky."
Littlefoot smiled and shook his head. "I'm not, but I can throw things really far and really fast with great accuracy. If the others aren't enough to save all of those threatened, I'll compensate by taking out the ones they can't reach. Priority Two, dealing with Arrtafiss. If that doesn't destroy their resolve like it did with Ssavi, we'll target whoever takes over and go from there. They'll grow increasingly disorganised as their hierarchy of command crumbles. Chances are he'll keep his distance, so my ranged attacks should help. Priority Three, getting the herd out of there any chance we get."
"Shouldn't that be Priority Two?" asked Cera.
He paused to think. "Yes ... if possible, but we can't save a herd with hundreds of fast biters on our tail."
Cera sighed. "I know that sharpteeth ... 'matter' ... but these ones knew about your grandparents of all things! If they found out about them, then knowing how we fight is child's play, which explains why it was so hard to lay a horn on them."
Littlefoot nodded.
"We gotta fight differently, at least just this once," Cera concluded. "We gotta stop holding back."
Littlefoot lowered his head.
Cera stared at him. "Are you with me on this?"
He nodded slowly. "... I'm with you ..."
Cera hummed an empathetic acknowledgement. "Starting to wish we brought more Valley Guard?"
"Nope," Littlefoot replied without a second thought.
She huffed a single chuckle. "Figures. Your stubbornness is almost threehorn-like sometimes."
"Thank you," Littlefoot smiled.
"Much as I still think we're the best team for the job, it'd be nice if we had some more flyers or Wind Racers on paw. Not, like, regular Valley Guard. A couple Pteranos, Petries and Rubys would do the trick." Something caught her eye among the cliffs. "Speaking of Petrie and Dawn, looks like they're- wait, what are those? Is that-?"
Cera gave a sharp gasp.
Spike's eyes lit up.
Having followed her line of sight, Littlefoot responded likewise. Two fleet-footed figures trailed behind Petrie, dashing and leaping across the cliffs with death-defying deftness.
The blue blur was a mystery, but the pinkish one? He had known only one runner who could 'speedrun' like that.
"RUBY!" Littlefoot exclaimed.
That cry was all it took to shatter their coordination - well, the pinkish one's coordination, at least. She hiccupped to a stop, which presented a problem when the blue one crashed into her. Down they fell.
Despite their predicament, the blue one managed a: "Sis, we TALKED about this!"
"We also talked about YOU being too close BEHIND me!"
Petrie dove after them, snatched the female from the air and reached for the male with his free foot.
"Don't! You'll ruin my landing!" the male yelled.
Too late. Petrie jerked back, but his truncated touch had thrown off the runner's descent. He felt his grip slip, and heard a scream. His abrupt withdrawal was enough to shake the female from his grip, and the injured wing? It helped matters in no way whatsoever.
Spiraling though it was, the male's fall brought him close enough to the wall to push off it, bounce off Cera's back and roll to a painful stop against a rock.
The female had no such option, only a split moment between her and the ground. Littlefoot's tail shot forward and brought her descent to a halt.
She blinked at the turn of events and gaped up at him, even as he set her down.
"Wh-whoa ...!" Amethyst breathed. "Y-you're even taller than I even expected ..."
Under the cloud cover and canyon's temperamental lighting, she could have passed for the spitting image of Ruby. However, her hue leaned closer to purple than pink. A shorter, crest and emerald eyes were among the petty differences. She was about as tall as the teenage Ruby had been the last they saw her. Slightly slimmer, borderline undernourished, but strong and sinewy all the same.
Cera raised an eyebrow at the twilight blue runner who had used her to break his fall. He too resembled Ruby, but what did she know? She hated to think that she had trouble differentiating their kind. At least his colour made a distinction, coupled with how his crest curved, hiding a bit of his moody eyes when viewed from a slightly elevated perspective. It was probably a mild deformity, but it added an air of mystique. His traits would have earned quite a bit of attention from the valley's fastrunner females. 'Dreamy' Mysterious Beyonders were a hot commodity. Judging from the way his arm hung as he forced himself to his feet, squinting in a stupor, she assumed the fall did a bit more than shake him up.
"You okay?" asked Cera.
He tottered and leaned against the rock he'd crashed into. "I'm ..."
Cera gasped and dashed toward the landing flyer. "PETRIE-WHAT-HAPPENED-TO-YOUR-WING?!"
Petrie stared at the aforementioned wing and flexed it experimentally. "It'll heal, and I can still fly. Dawn's finishing the scouting so I can-"
"That's great, but what happened to your wing?" Cera snapped.
He winced. "It was an accident ..."
She frowned, but said no more.
At least, Zircon assumed she was frowning based on the nasal growl. His eyes still struggled to coalesce a threehorn form from the amber blur. The pounding headache would fade, but his arm ...?
... This was going to hurt.
He hissingly grabbed his shoulder and wrenched it back into place. He saw stars, nearly bit off his tongue. To his credit, he did a good job of stifling the scream. No one noticed his plight, preoccupied with Petrie.
Finally, Littlefoot addressed the runners. "Hi. I'm Littlefoot." He gestured the others. "These are Cera and Spike."
He noticed the blue runner mouthing the names in sync with him. It seemed the introduction wasn't entirely necessary.
"Are you Ruby's siblings?" Littlefoot chanced.
"He-hello!" Amethyst began. "Ruby's siblings we are. Sorry to disappoint ..."
"Don't be," he affirmed. "It's nice to meet you-"
"I'm Amethyst!" she blurted a bit too quickly.
"He knows," Zircon assured. "We met them at Hanging Rock. Besides, Ruby would have mentioned us."
Amethyst brightened. "Right! Mention us, she would have!"
Littlefoot's face fell as he picked up the conversation's direction. "Sorry. Maybe it slipped my mind."
Zircon's gaze sharpened as his arms dropped. "Ruby said your memory's as close to perfect as memory gets."
Littlefoot exhaled. "You got me."
A slightly flustered Zircon glared about at the ground. He spotted a pebble, made as though to kick it, then disguised the action by tapping the floor with his foot.
"Don't do that again," Zircon reprimanded. "Misleading someone to make them feel better only leads to feeling worse when they figure it out."
Littlefoot nodded. "Sorry."
An uncomfortable silence fell upon them.
"Um ... Y-you're all so much bigger than I thought you'd be!" Amethyst gushed, desperate to fill the lull, before slapping a paw to her face at the lame, redundant icebreaker.
Zircon turned to Cera, squinting at her. "This one's smaller. Softer too."
"Could squish you all the same," Cera muttered.
"Excuse me?" he demanded.
"'This One' has a name," Cera fibbed, feigning a smile.
"That's not what you said."
She ignored him. "It's Cera. Didn't catch yours."
"I didn't drop it."
Amethyst smiled in discomfort. ~Two deadpan snarkers dead set on snarking ... Yaaay.~ She cleared her throat. "That's Zircon. He isn't usually as rude as he is right now."
Zircon shot her a glare before turning his attention to the longneck. "So where's Ruby?"
"Somewhere else," Cera smirked unhelpfully.
He side-eyed her. "Littlefoot, where is Ruby?"
"We haven't seen her in years," Littlefoot admitted.
Zircon frowned. "That's not good. She should be in the valley."
"Is this about the sleep stories?" asked Littlefoot.
Amethyst gasped. "You've been getting them too?"
"Then why are you out here?" Zircon demanded. "If you're looking for Ruby, she'd be heading to the valley, so you'd best be heading there or she'll head out looking for you too."
"We're not looking for Ruby," Littlefoot explained. "We're here to save a herd from fast biters."
Zircon snorted. "Alright. We'll help you help them."
"We will?" Amethyst gulped.
"Why not?" asked Zircon. "We have the training we have to have and I've been itching to kick something."
"All seven hundred of them?" Cera snerked.
Zircon choked. "Se ... SEVEN HUNDRED?! HOW DO YOU PEOPLE EVEN GET INTO THESE SITUATIONS?!"
"Practice," Littlefoot shrugged.
"Okay, Fine," spat Zircon. "We have more Mysterious Beyond experience than you'll experience in a lifetime. Fast biter or not, no one touches us, so try to keep up."
"We'll try to keep you alive when they go for your weak spots," Cera assured.
"'Weak spots'?" Zircon repeated. "How is that unusual?"
"Ever been hit in just the right spot so your muscles give out?" asked Cera. "They're really good at it, and we honestly don't have time to watch your back when that happens."
"You mean 'pressure points'?" Amethyst inquired. "Our parents came up with those years ago, then taught us what they taught themselves."
Littlefoot and Cera exchanged rapid glances.
"D-did I say something wrong?" fretted Amethyst.
"No," assured Littlefoot. "We were taught about pressure points, but we never had a name for them. It's just weird that your parents and our new flyer friend would 'come up with' the same thing we're hearing about only now."
"Assuming Dawn came up with them in the first place," Cera added.
"You mean that winged sunrise Petrie was talking to?" asked Zircon. "I don't know if you've seen her, but she doesn't look like she's seen a serious fight in her life."
They flinched as said 'sunrise' dove into their midst, landing like sky fire, panting lightly.
"Hm," Zircon grunted. "She sure is fast, though."
"Hey, new faces," Dawn commented breathlessly. "I'm Dawn, who are you guys?"
"Amethyst," "Zircon," the runners replied.
"Nice to meet ya," Dawn greeted before turning to the others. "Anyway, the fast biters saw me! From the looks of it, Arrtafiss found out about Ssavi. Calling him 'angry' doesn't begin to cover it." She drew a map in the soil before sketching a rough depiction of their destination.
"Huh ... that's kind of like the thing our family does," Amethyst commented before shivering at the details took form. "Our parents told us never to go near the place you're placing in the dirt but ... it looks almost like The Great Valley!"
"That's 'cause it is like The Great Valley, but much smaller," Dawn explained. "Enough green food and water to keep a herd alive for months. I think that's what they do to the herds they catch, so they'd have a long term supply of food. No doubt they plan the same with my herd, after using them as bait for you guys."
"To be clear, you saw your herd?" asked Littlefoot.
She nodded vigorously. "They're cornered and guarded in the far side of the valley, like the fast biters are making room for the fight. No entrances big enough to reach the herd from behind, though there are several ways in for someone fast runner-sized. The would-be battleground is packed with trees, rocks and giant creepy crawler nests that look to be deserted. You won't have much space to fight."
"Unless we make space," Cera asserted.
Zircon looked skeptical. "In the middle of battle? This'll be interesting."
(~Arrival in 1 hour 15 minutes.~)
"Alrighty, we best be going," Petrie hustled.
Petrie froze. Though by no means painful, the inescapable grip on his back had a distinct, predatory edge. For a moment, he almost thought a sharptooth had gotten ahold of him. He slowly turned to see Dawn holding him in place, stern concern etched into her face. She sheepishly released him, as though amending an impulse.
"Are you sure you're up for this, Petrie?" she asked, avoiding his eyes.
He nodded doggedly. "Of course I am. I'm Valley Guard."
"You're also injured," Littlefoot noted.
"Mm hm," Spike nodded.
Cera narrowed her eyes at Dawn.
"I think you should stay behind," Littlefoot voiced.
"What?" exclaimed Petrie. "You need all the help you can get!"
"If your wing gives out, we'll be worst off trying to help you," Cera argued.
Spike nodded.
"Just listen to them," asserted Zircon. "You'll only slow us down."
Petrie shot him a look. "I don't remember anyone asking you,"
Zircon shrugged. "I don't remember caring."
"You should head back to Ducky and the others," Littlefoot declared. "Zircon, Amethyst, make sure Petrie gets there without complications."
Zircon frowned. "Is that your way of getting us out of the way?"
"In part," Littlefoot confessed. "I don't know how you handle yourselves in a fight, and the last thing I want is getting Ruby's family killed."
Zircon vanished into a blur. Littlefoot's eyes widened as his leg tingled from impact. Though mildy unpleasant rather than painful, it carried the same force as the biters he'd fought, minus the use of claws and pressure points. He looked back to see the fast runner touch down and stare at him pointedly.
Cera smiled. "You're as fast as Ruby."
He looked off smugly. "I know."
"Does that go for you too, Amethyst?" asked Littlefoot.
She fidgeted. "Do you ... want me to kick your leg or something?"
Cera nodded.
"'Or something'," Littlefoot shrugged.
Amethyst tapped her chin, looking around. Her eyes settled on a trio of flying nibblers lighting on a bush nearby. She blurred towards them, every bit as swift as her brother. They shrieked, but none so loudly as the one now in her paw.
She smiled proudly. "Ever caught one of theEEEE!?"
It was the appropriate reaction, considering the nibbler had wrenched from her grip with startling skill and bitten her wrist, but that wasn't enough for the vengeful little critter. It flew at her face. She swatted it to the ground and massaged her sore wrist. The nibbler pulled itself together and launched into another attack. That ended when Zircon's brotherly impulse sent him flying foot first into the nibbler. It sailed through the air and landed in a twitching heap.
The other nibblers exchanged a quick glance and absconded while no one was looking.
Littlefoot bobbed his head in approval. Contrary to her apparent skittishness, Amethyst handled being attacked quite well. She was a denizen of The Mysterious Beyond, after all.
"Come back when you're done seeing Petrie to the cave," Littlefoot instructed.
"We're wasting time!" Petrie snapped. "I'm not going, and I can still fight, so let's just finish the mission and be done with i-!"
He fell silent as something pinched his crest. The last thing he turned to see was Dawn's apologetic face. It blurred to indiscernibility before darkness set in.
Everyone stared in stunned silence as she eased him to the ground.
Cera lowered her horns. "Dawn, what did you do?"
"Pressure point," Dawn explained. "He wasn't gonna give, so I put him to sleep ... do you think he'll forgive me?"
Littlefoot shrugged. Cera said nothing, but he could feel the icy animosity exuding from her. Sometimes that threehorn was at her scariest in silence. He couldn't blame her. For the time being, he wasn't feeling particularly amicable towards Dawn either.
Dawn nodded, downcast. "Right. I'll take him back to the cave."
"Zircon and Amethyst can do it," Littlefoot declared.
The blue fast runner shot him a look.
Littlefoot ignored him, scribbling a map in the soil. "Think you can be there and back in forty holding breaths?"
"Uhhh ..." Amethyst hesitated.
Littlefoot marked a spot closer to their destination. "If we meet here, you can take a shortcut through the hills while we get closer to Little Valley."
Zircon briefly studied the map while Littlefoot studied him for any sign of incomprehension. When Zircon nodded, he saw none.
"Challenge accepted," Zircon confirmed. "We can take turns carrying him, right Sis?"
Amethyst nodded. "Right. Flyers aren't that heavy."
He hoisted Petrie onto his back and the two fast runners set off at the fastest pace manageable. As soon as they were out of sight, Cera spun to face Dawn.
"Why did you peck a hole in Petrie's wing?" the threehorn demanded.
Dawn stiffened. "How did you know?"
"I didn't, until you confirmed it," Cera growled.
Dawn chuckled without humour. "Clever."
"A fast biter got his claws on you, yet you got 'mauled' without a single scratch," Cera went on. "You and Petrie scout ahead, and you're the only one who actually makes it to the destination. Not to mention these fast biters speak leafeater ..."
"What are you getting at?" asked Dawn.
"They have your herd!" Cera asserted. "As much as you seem to like Petrie, maybe you didn't think you had any options. Maybe the biters forced you to trade us for the herd!"
Dawn's beak gaped before slowly closing as she considered the logic.
"Your logic is sound," Dawn admitted evenly.
Cera blinked, surprised by the admission. "So you are in cahoots with them?"
"Nah. Not my style."
"Prove it."
"How?"
"For starters, WHY did you peck a hole in Petrie's WING?"
"I had a panic attack. He tried to help me and I lashed out on him."
Cera sneered. "'Panic attack'? *Psht*. Brave girl like you?"
Dawn exhaled. "'Brave'? I don't know about that. I'm just not scared of most things. There's a difference."
"And what caused this 'panic attack'?" asked Littlefoot.
Littlefoot hadn't said much. A bit more and Dawn might have assumed Cera to be the unequivocal alpha. His eyes made that conclusion impossible. She could practically feel them, patient, potent, peeling back every layer of her words, every gesture. They were like the eyes of a sharptooth studying a potential meal, but there was no 'potential' here. His mind was already feasting upon a myriad of minutiae. Surely her story would conflict with his cold logic, but intuition told her anything withheld would be discerned as such.
Dawn hesitated. "We ... flew too close to the clouds."
Cara scoffed a laugh. "A flyer afraid of heights? Try again."
Dawn shook her head. "Not 'heights'. Just clouds, or flying high enough to reach the clouds."
"Why's that?" Littlefoot went on.
Dawn's eyes grew distant. She blinked back into focus. "When I was a kid, I flew up to the clouds on one of my first flights. They ... th-they grabbed me. I escaped but then this ... humming thing ... cold, invisible and very loud ... it took hold and dragged me into the sky. That's where the memories get iffy, but I'm pretty sure I never saw my family again."
She held her breath as an uncomfortable pause commenced.
"THAT'S THE BIGGEST HEAP O' COCKAMANIE I'VE EVER HEARD!" Cera exploded.
"Do you have anything else to say for yourself?" asked Littlefoot.
A disheartened Dawn blinked at the ground and shook her head.
Littlefoot nodded. "Welp, I believe her."
Cera sputtered. "WHAT?!"
"It's believable because it's ridiculous," Littlefoot stated. "If she were lying to us, she could have settled on being afraid of heights. She's smart, she would have chosen the most convincing story. Instead, she told us something much stranger, which jeopardised her chances of gaining our trust. It's too specific, yet weirder than any normal sleep story. I couldn't come up with that kind of stuff."
"How do you know she doesn't want us to think that?" Cera pressed.
"Because it's too risky," Littlefoot explained. "She doesn't know us well enough to be sure we'd come to that conclusion. If she wanted us to, she would have nudged us in that direction. Even when I gave her the chance to do so, she didn't."
Dawn was well aware that her beak was gaping, but she did nothing to remedy it. "Woooooooow ..."
Cera guffawed. "I know, righ-? Whoa, whoa, whoa, you are not off the hook yet, Missy!"
"Figures. What else do you want to know?"
"How did you survive getting mauled by that biter?"
"I don't die easy," Dawn explained simply.
Cera squinted. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Dawn drew her wing in front of her, casually ... pecked a ... hole ... straight through it ... walked up to a boulder, smacked her ... head against it ... and collapsed.
Cera's jaw practically hit the ground. Spike's eyes were one smidgeon from popping out of his skull.
A flabbergasted Littlefoot reached his tail forward and tentatively opened one of Dawn's eyelids with the tip.
"The black of her eyes is big, and it's not reacting to light so ..." he numbly shook his head. "Yep ... She's out ..."
Cera and Spike turned gobsmacked gazes upon Littlefoot, awaiting further explanation.
"I've got nothing," he confessed, scooping up the flyer with his tail, "but whatever she's trying to prove, we'll find out when we find out. Let's get going."
17 minutes later
*Thmp*
*Thmp*
*Thmp*
*Thm-*
The pause in Littlefoot's gait was not lost on Cera and Spike. They looked to see him examining the flyer cradled in his tail.
"What?" asked Cera.
"Dawn is really hot," Littlefoot announced.
Cera gave an incredulous smirk. "And you picked now to highlight that?"
His deadpan look gave Cera the distinct impression that she wasn't using her brain.
A curious Spike was one step ahead of her, walking up to the flyer and resting the tip of his tail on her back. His eyes widened and he nodded at Cera, confirming Littlefoot's statement.
"Oh ... well, she's not sick," Cera reasoned. "Maybe her stamina's catching up with her? She was half dead of exhaustion when we met her. I'd be overheating too after all that flying."
"She was fine until a second ago," Littlefoot noted.
"Then maybe she is sick."
"As of a second ago?"
Cera frowned. "Fine. Do you have any better theories as to what-?"
Littlefoot's gasp cut her off. She'd never seen Spike's eyes so wide, which said a lot considering his response to Dawn's forcibly induced unconsciousness.
Cera hurried close and braced herself as she scanned the flyer. No amount of bracing could prepare her for what she saw. Dawn didn't stir. She looked perfectly normal ... except for the hole in her wing, which was ...
...
... sealing ... itself ... shut ...
In a matter of seconds, the hole was gone, flawless skin in its stead.
Everyone flinched back as Dawn fidgeted awake. Littlefoot set her down with no small degree of trepidation and she sat up, rubbing her head. She paused upon taking in their astonishment. The flyer checked her wing and smiled.
"I'm always asleep when that happens," Dawn chuckled. "What did it look like? Glowy? Sparky? Or did it just pull itself together uneventfully?"
They made several stuttering starts at a reply.
Cera found her voice first. "You THINK, by ANY STRETCH OF THE IMAGINATION, Th-THAT could have been 'UNEVENTFUL'?!"
"Oh? So no glowy, flashy stuff then?" Dawn smirked before making a show of yawning. "Total snooze fest."
She delighted in the sight of Cera choking on exasperation.
"So ..." Littlefoot swallowed, "... that's what happened when the biter tried to maul you?"
Dawn shook her head. "That was different. I did zone out, but I didn't take damage far as I can tell. That happens sometimes. The point is my body is weird. It's been that way since The Hum took me."
They scarcely spared a glance at the runners darting down the rocky slopes.
"Boom!" Zircon boasted. "Thirty eight holding breaths!"
He and his sister balked at the unresponsive Valley Guard staring at the flyer.
"Did we miss something we shouldn't have missed?" asked Amethyst.
"Nothing you'd believe if you weren't there to believe it," Dawn quipped.
Zircon winced. "Yeah, no. It sounds weird when non-runners talk like that."
"Or maybe it just 'sounds weird'," Cera snarked.
"Oh well! Can't be helped," Dawn chirped. "Now that your minds are blown beyond the point of return, facing seven hundred biters should be well within the realm of possibility."
Amethyst raised a paw. "I still wanna know what happened."
"Dawn pecked a hole in her wing, knocked herself out, the hole healed before our eyes and she woke up," Cera blurted.
Littlefoot and Spike nodded.
The runners blinked blankly and exchanged looks. Amethyst lifted a finger, opened her mouth, but the question died in her throat as her thought process imploded once again.
Dawn threw her wings out at the runners. "See? Now we broke 'em! No one wins."
Zircon cleared his throat. "... Could you ... maybe peck another hole in your wing so we can-?"
"Zircon! That's unconscionable!" Amethyst hissed.
"Fun as it was the first time, I'd rather not maim my means of flying when we're short on time to meet some biters who'd gladly do it for me. Sooo ... we good? We good! Let's go!"
She took to the air, only to return seconds later.
"Uh, quick question: Do we have an actual plan?" Dawn asked.
Everyone turned to Littlefoot.
He chuckled. "Alright. Here's what we're gonna do."
Young Littlefoot grew uncomfortable under his mentor's stare. He was spared the discomfort of utter silence by the whisper of the swirling leaves departing from them.
Doc finally spoke: "What I did in the canyon was one thing, but this plan of yours?"
Littlefoot stared at the ground. "I know how it sounds, and yet ..." he raised his eyes to the sky, brimming with wonder and a trace of daring, "stars fall, rocks fly and mountains catch fire. Maybe what's possible is far beyond what we can imagine, and what we can imagine is closer than we think."
Littlefoot was sounding like a fast runner, yet Doc couldn't help but quirk a smile. Most kids focussed on fun, friends and finding enough food to survive. It depended on the circumstances of their lives really, but this kid? He'd seen the world at its darkest and brightest, yet he was set on challenging the established order. Littlefoot was going to keep The Circle of Life on its toes, and Doc approved wholeheartedly.
"Alright. Let's see what you can do," Doc conceded.
The ominous song of the wind had fallen and risen as they travelled. Some had hoped that it would subside by the time it became tactically relevant. Now, on the cusp of battle, it returned full force. Now, a new song interlaced with its howl, congealed from voices raspy and ravenous.
"Red will rain,
"warm and sweet
"The greater the pain,
"the tastier treat
"Squealing meals delight our ears,
"faces flavoured with salty tears
"They run, they cry, they fall, what fun!
"We eat our fill while they struggle still
"Fling their meat up to the skies,
"red will rain from clouds so high"
Cera's face scrunched. "What is this?"
"It's the 'lullaby' Red Claw sang to intimidate me," Littlefoot explained. "These words are technically accurate, but compared to the sharptooth version? It's not so bad, kinda shabby."
'Oookaaay ...' Cera mouthed, almost skeptical.
The song evolved into a chant as they approached the gap in Little Valley's walls.
"Red will rain!
"Red will rain!"
Littlefoot looked up, stopped, squinted.
"Through the entrance! MOVE!" he commanded.
The group bolted into the stone passage, narrowly avoiding a boulder that crashed down behind them, sealing the exit.
"RED WILL RAIN!
"RED WILL RAIN!"
The chants reached a fervent pitch as they took in their surroundings. Dense forest, ground cover and boulders were interspersed with crawler nests tall as a medium-sized longneck, riddled with tunnels big enough to hide fast biters. Hundreds of the sharpteeth lined the elevated ledges at the valley's edge. Only Littlefoot was tall enough to peer over the trees and spot the biggest of the herd huddled at the far side.
"RRED WILL RRAIN!
"RRED WILL-!"
*( ( KRA-KOOOOOOOM! ) )*
The thunderclap of Littlefoot's tail stunned them to silence.
"You're not here to sing hatchling songs at us! You're here to get stomped!" Cera snapped, accentuating her statement with a pound to the ground. "Get in line so we can get this over with!"
A scream, ragged with agony, broke her bravado.
The group turned to see a biter on ledges drawing his jaws from a young, whimpering longneck.
A personal pang sliced through Littlefoot's heart. Even at that distance, there was no mistaking her appearance for a younger version of his cousin, Ali, but her voice? A dead ringer. It couldn't be a coincidence. Just how much did these biters know about them?
Another shriek yanked their attention: a flyer boy dangling by the wing from the teeth of a biter. He visibly fought his instinct to fly, feeble flaps ending in winces. Even the gentlest jaws risked damaging the delicate limbs.
The third squeal: a tiny swimmer.
The fourth: a pink spiketail who Spike immediately identified with Tippy.
The fifth ... no scream.
Cera looked about almost frantically. Where was the threehorn? There had to be a threehorn! Maybe the biters hadn't bothered, or there were no kid threehorns to pull at her heartstrings, or-
...
Or the threehorn simply wasn't screaming.
Following the circular distribution of kids, she spotted him in the remaining slot: a threehorn whose peach hue was too close for comfort to her little sister's pink. The ledge's height made it difficult to see, but she had every reason to believe the sharptooth behind him was biting his tail. He quivered, teeth gnashed. She caught the Sun glinting off his tears, yet he refused to give them the satisfaction of a scream. Empathetic pain and pride swelled in Cera's chest. She wished she could tell him it was okay to give in, just do what they wanted - he was only a child! She also wished she could cheer him on for his courage, had there been no risk of repercussions.
Littlefoot shot Dawn a desperate glance.
"I didn't know about this!" she insisted. "When I came, these kids weren't-!"
"SSSILENCCE!" snarled a voice that abandoned all attempts to sound leafeater. It dripped venom like nothing they had ever heard. Even the fast biters collectively winced.
Arrtafiss stepped into view atop the grandest of stone platforms, an aura of death oozing from his being.
"I wass going to tell you the childrren would be ssafe ssso long as you did as I instrrrructed," Arrtafiss hissed. "I wasss goingto LIE, but sseeing as you ... murrrderrrred my beta ... I sshall tell you the truth. I prrromisse that thesse childrrren will neverrr rreunite with theirr mothersss. I prrromisse to end them early, make them sssuffer if you try to help them or disssobey me. I prrromisse to hunt yourrr families, to end them in sssslow, PAINFUL weeksss and I PRROMISSE you will NEVERRR see them again!"
"Lumberr to the ccentre of the valley. Fight when I say fight. Be brroken when I say brrreak. Then watch the childrrren fall to our jaws, and perrrisssssh."
...
... Well, someone's not messing around. Let's hope our heroes' plot armour is up for the challenge.
If it wasn't obvious, Zircon is essentially the closest thing they have to an emo kid, except he's not really trying to give off that vibe. While he has no control over his appearance, there are reasons why he's got the slightly edgy personality to go with it.