War Before Time I: Fall of the Valley

by The Mr E

"No one told me the world could crumble. No one told me stars can fall." From The Great Earthshake and Longneck Migration to The Stone of Cold Fire, a secret lurks beneath every adventure you thought you knew. Littlefoot and his friends trained to fight sharpteeth, but what could prepare them for the day everything changed? Sequel to 'Mentors of Yesteryears'. Low T for violence.

8. Chapter 8: Pulling Together

I've made a mild retcon. 'Flow Motion' is now Ducky's main fighting style, as opposed to a way of navigating rapids. The river navigation technique is now called 'Running Water'.

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Chapter 8

Pulling Together

---

(~Arrival in 47 minutes.~)

---

At least a thousand fast biters.

That was Littlefoot's tentative estimate, not to mention the pack members who would have been hidden, if this could even be called a 'pack'. Known fast biter packs numbered from several to dozens. One hundred to two hundred was the upper limit in Doc's experience. This was something far greater than a pack.

It was an ar- ... an arm- ...

Littlefoot brushed aside the word congealing at the edge of his mind. He had no idea where it came from, but it was an irrelevant distraction. They had a plan. It wasn't the best plan, but it ran on a theory that proved correct: Arrtafiss had taken hosta- ... individuals and used them as leverage against the gang. However, he hadn't ordered the gang to hold still and meet their fates. He'd ordered them to fight, then die. That gave them a chance to turn the tide, but why? It was not the sharptooth way to prolong a risky hunt.

Did they have something to prove? If so, to whom?

In any event, they were meticulous. They'd even selected youngsters who reminded the gang of themselves and those they held dear.

---

(~Arrival in 1 hour, 6 minutes.~)

---

"If the pack has hosta- ... hos- ..." Littlefoot shook off the strange word attempting to form on his tongue. "If they try to pressure us to surrender by using innocents, we'll have to identify and prioritise who they're likely to hurt first."

"What's to say it won't be random, and how do we communicate without them noticing if we figure it out?" asked Cera. "If they know leafeater, and Ssavi knew about your grandparents, they might know Earth Whispering too."

"Ssavi went for Ducky, more so than most sharpteeth," Littlefoot stated. "She mentioned a 'craving', but she also might have figured hurting Ducky would shake us up the most ... which it did ..." he glared at nothing in particular. "We'll coordinate with Earth Whispers, but try to be discreet, sloppy but coherent enough. Earth Whispering is an unusual skill, and they shouldn't be as sensitive to it if they haven't used it as much as we have," He looked at the fast runners. "... Do you guys know Earth Whispering?"

Amethyst twiddled her fingers in uncertainty. "Um ... a little? Not really? No."

"Ruby taught us a bit, but the bit she taught us is years out of practice," Zircon admitted.

Littlefoot nodded. "At least you remember how to speedrun. Follow your gut, and try to pick up cues without looking obvious. We're counting on you for the speediest jobs."

Zircon cast Amethyst a fearful glance. It wasn't lost on her.

Littlefoot frowned, taking notice.

"What was that?" Amethyst asked.

"What was what?" Zircon feigned.

She narrowed her eyes.

Zircon fidgeted before sighing. "To be honest, I don't know if you're ready for this."

Amethyst turned to Littlefoot, forcing a smile. "Excuse me one second."

She darted behind a rock a short distance away, leaving everyone puzzled. A moment later, she popped her head from behind it, glaring at Zircon.

He shrugged and shook his head cluelessly.

She aggressively beckoned him to join her.

Zircon raised an eyebrow, but obeyed nonetheless. The moment he disappeared behind that rock ...

"'NOT READY FOR THIS'!? YOU WANNA GO, BRO? HUH?! LEMME SHOW YOU JUST HOW READY I ALREADY AM!"

Everyone winced. From the sound of it, she was shaking him.

Cera smirked. "I like her."

"It's six hundred fast biters!" Zircon snapped defensively. "I don't even know if I'M even ready for that! Look, I know you're a tricky fighter! We spar, remember? It's just that ... well, you're kinda clumsy and ... SIX HUNDRED IS HUGE!"

"I HEARD YOU THE FIRST TIME!" Amethyst spat.

"They're so riled up, they're almost forgetting to talk in circles," Cera snickered.

"Why'd you call me behind this thing if we're gonna shout anyway!?" Zircon protested.

"I just don't wanna BITE YOUR HEAD OFF in front of LITTLEFOOT!" she explained.

She peeked from behind the rock and gave Littlefoot an awkward smile and a sheepish wave.

He tail waved back with a constipated smile of his own.

"Just meet us at the valley!" Zircon turned to leave. "I don't think you're gonna make a difference in this-!"

"What kind of-? YOU wait in the valley!" Amethyst huffed, pushing past him. "And say hi to Ruby for me!"

Zircon stopped, staring hard at the ground. "We both know that's not a given."

She hiccupped to a pause, looking back at him.

He inhaled, exhaled. "We haven't seen Ruby in years. Wherever she is, she might be in no position to return to the valley ... assuming she's still ..." his voice wavered, "... in a position to do anything." He looked at her, eyes misty. "You might be the only sister I've got left."

Amethyst softened. "Hey, it ... it's okay, okay? I've had my share of sharptooth encounters that involve encountering their claws and jaws. I'm beyond tough! I'm ... Mysterious Beyond Tough!"

She struck a pose that might have come off as intimidating had she been a fast biter. As a fast runner, it was nothing more than adorable. That is, until one took a good look at her fingers. Then an unsettling cause for her confidence became apparent.

Zircon wiped his eyes and chuckled. "Seriously, please don't do that. If you do that, the biters won't take you seriously."

Amethyst gave a fake pout. "I think that might be more of a good thing than you think. Anyway, it's not like we're alone. We've got The Valley Guard, and considering all the stupid stuff they've stuffed into their childhood without dying ..."

"We can hear you!" Cera reminded.

"... we should be fine," Amethyst whispered, as if it made a difference.

The two emerged from behind the rock and rejoined the group.

Cera raised an eyebrow. "We've lost a lot of time. You ready to do 'stupid stuff'?"

Amethyst shook her head. "Nope! Only cool, tail-kicking stuff's the stuff we wanna do!"

Cera's smirked as she and the others turned to leave. She always respected courage.

"Besides, Ruby taught us the trick that Chomper taught her!" Amethyst enthused. She raised her paws, curving the digits to accentuate their menacing traits. "How to sharpen claws!"

---

(~Arrival in 46 minutes.~)

---

Zircon's face was calm, cool, stern, strained. His steps were firm, decisive, measured, forced. His head, held high; eyes, straight. The rare glares he spared the fast biters were derisively dismissive, as though the threat of their teeth was beneath him. He realised he was curling his fingers.

He realised because his claws bit his wrists.

Littlefoot: ( ( Cera, save threehorn. ) )

Cera: ( ( Was planning to. ) )

Zircon willed himself to relax as they walked to the centre of Little Valley. ~Easy ... don't let on that you let them get to you.~

The Valley Guard was silent, save their subtly irregular footsteps. If he hadn't known they would Earth Whisper, he wouldn't have picked it up. The smattering of words he picked up were nigh illegible, but for seasoned Earth Whisperers? He imagined it made little difference.

Littlefoot: ( ( Spike, save spiketail. ) )

Spike: ( ( Uh huh. And swimmer? ) )

Zircon could practically smell the drool, feel the hungry eyes watching the sidelines. Even as nibblers flit between foliage, close enough to snatch from the air, the fast biters remained fixated on the group, him and Amethyst especially. Sharpteeth thrived on fear. Denying them that would assert that he was more than prey, or merely offend them. Maybe both. He could live with both. The unfortunate part? He was afraid, but they didn't have to know that. More than anything, he hated the way they didn't see him - only a feisty feast fast enough to evade a hunter ... until now. He would teach them that his speed was the tip of the mountain.

He would make them see him.

Littlefoot: ( ( Amethyst saves swimmer. I only saw one biter guarding her ... still concerning. Zircon saves longneck. More biters there. He seems like a better fighter. Longneck screams like younger Ali. Swimmer reminds us of Ducky. Arrtafiss may hurt them to hurt us most, unless fast runners get there first. ) )

Irritated by Zircon's pluck, many of the biters turned their eyes upon a more palatable sight. Amethyst shuddered all the more under the influx of stares. She wished she didn't know their kind was a coveted treat to sharpteeth.

~Don't shake. They won't stop staring until you stop shaking,~ Amethyst thought to herself.

Cera: ( ( And Dawn saves flyer? ) )

Littlefoot: ( ( Yes. ) )

Cera: ( ( Plan is shaky. ) )

Littlefoot: ( ( Any ideas? ) )

Zircon stepped in front of Amethyst, casting his most condescending glare upon the sharpteeth.

That brought out their first, clearly visible reaction. Heads tilted, glances exchanged, teeth bared: a mixed assortment of puzzlement and annoyance. Who did this cocky punk think he was?

Zircon couldn't suppress the smirk. ~That's it. Eyes on me.~

Cera: ( ( Plan would be less shaky if we make sure Dawn, Amethyst and Zircon know their roles. ) )

Littlefoot: ( ( I'll handle that. ) )

His massive tail arced around the fast runners and herded them closer.

Zircon shot the longneck a glare. He wasn't a hatchling! He didn't need to be coddled! The fast biters would think that he-!

...

The fast biters ... probably weren't thinking about him anymore. Littlefoot's dark, crimson gaze exuded the promise of doom to anyone who so much as threatened the fast runners. Never had that longneck looked so big in Zircon's eyes, never so ferocious. When a guttural growl brewed deep within Littlefoot's throat, Zircon almost forgot he was a leafeater. Instinctive dread urged him to run, yet he couldn't look away, hardly noticed Amethyst turn to look at something. His trance broke when something tapped his heel. He tried to turn inconspicuously, followed her gaze and saw the tip of Littlefoot's tail withdraw. Beneath it were markings in the dirt depicting two fast runner heads, one bearing his curved crest. A line connected that head to a longneck, while the other runner's head was connected to a swimmer. Not a moment later, Littlefoot's tail brushed away the markings.

His growl ended as he moved on.

Zircon fought hard to keep his jaw from dropping. As they reached the centre of Little Valley, cluttered with crawler mounds boasting tunnels big enough to hide fast biters, his newfound confidence did not waver. With such cleverness on their side, maybe they could pull through this.

Cera: ( ( Bad place to fight. Little room, hard to see. Lots of hiding places. Their advantage. ) )

Littlefoot: ( ( I' can fix that. Get ready to duck. ) )

Spike: ( ( What spooked Dawn? ) )

The longneck looked up.

Dawn seemed confused. She appeared to be looking for something.

Littlefoot: ( ( Where's Arrtafiss? ) )

Cera: ( ( ... He was on the big rock a moment ago. Can't have gotten fa-. ) )

A great din filled the air as the fast biters stomped in unison: ( ( NO. MORE. EARTH. WHISPERS. ) )

The Valley Guard halted mid-step, forcing the pang of trepidation not to show. A second pang buffeted their composure when Arrtafiss appeared atop a crawler mound nearly level with Littlefoot's gaze, standing stone still, eyes icy with serrated hatred.

Zircon found it hard too look at the alpha, even if Arrtafiss's gaze was fixed on Littlefoot. He was proud of himself for managing. That is, until Littlefoot reminded him of what he forgot in the moment.

"Stay sharp," Littlefoot warned. "If a fast biter lets you see them like this, it's a-"

Arrtafiss stomped lightly, but there was tranquil fury in his movements. The pack echoed his actions.

( ( FIGHT. NOW. ) )

The fast biters converged upon them.

"Get down!" Littlefoot commanded.

The gang ducked.

Littlefoot whirled.

Ear-splitting booms rent the air as his tail shattered a path through surrounding crawler mounds. Even crouched, Zircon and Amethyst nearly toppled as the sheer shock, flying particles and air pressure struck like a force of nature. A smattering of biters once concealed within crawler tunnels became a part of the airborne debris.

Cera was laughing like a maniac.

A brief reprieve.

Then came the second sweep. The debris had scarcely settled before Littlefoot's tail sent it hurtling in all directions in a monstrous wave. The advancing sharpteeth backtracked in horror, assailed by the rain of rubble and allies.

Arrtafiss never flinched, even as packmates and chunks of mound flew past his perch.

Littlefoot's mammoth momentum flowed into a third whirl as he scooped up a hunk of mound lucky enough to endure the second wave. At the last second, his gaze set on Arrtafiss as it took to the air.

The alpha's eyes widened.

He leapt from his mound just before Littlefoot's projectile shattered it. Arrtafiss deftly picked through the crumbling rubble and tumbled in an emergency landing. No sooner had he recovered his footing before relinquishing it. The alpha rolled clear of a charging Cera, her horns passing within a tails' distance.

Nothing that big had a right to move that fast.

"C'mere, Artie!" she beckoned with a savage grin. "Let's PLAY!"

---

(~Arrival in 40 minutes.~)

---

A subdued mood pervaded the cave.

Pterano lightly applied crushed herbs to the hole in Petrie's wing. No one had said much since the fast runners delivered an injured Petrie with very little explanation. Pterano's concern was reaching its threshold. This taciturn silence wouldn't do.

Pterano cleared his throat. "Are you in pain, Petrie?"

"Yes," the young flyer replied, short and sour.

"Would you care to tell me what happened?"

"Not really."

Pterano nodded slowly. It wasn't a sharptooth, otherwise Petrie would have said so. It must have been some bizarre and embarrassing accident ... that left its mark in a suspiciously beak-shaped hole ...

"It will heal in good time," Pterano assured.

"I know."

"Coming here was wise, but I am surprised the others managed to convince you to do so."

"They didn't."

Pterano knit his brow. This conversation was leading to more questions than answers. Had a male flyer spotted him with Dawn and attacked, assuming they were rivals for her affection? It seemed very possible. Mysterious Beyonders were known for such folly. Then he caught Petrie ruefully touching the back of his crest. Another, theory took form. He wasn't planning on pushing any further, but his curiosity got the better of him.

"I've heard there is a place behind the crest, a 'pressure point', as Dawn would put it, which puts a flyer to sleep when you pinch it," Pterano stated.

Petrie froze, eyes widening before staring at the ground, betrayal nuancing his features.

Now, Pterano knew. He almost regretted knowing. Poor Petrie. He understood the crest, but the hole in his nephew's wing? What had possessed that young lady?

He quickly decided to change the subject, turning his attention to Ducky.

Reclined against the wall, her eyes were closed. She wasn't moving.

"Are you awake?" asked Pterano.

Ducky opened her eyes halfway. "Yup."

He furrowed his brow. "Are you sleepy?"

"Nope. Just tired."

"Try not to lose consciousness in your condition. I ..." he shrugged, "... don't know what would happen if you do."

"I will not." She closed her eyes once again.

Pterano's face softened. Her disposition was understandable. Nonetheless, hearing the ever peppy Ducky so listless? If Ducky's spirit were to break, the very Bright Circle itself might stop shining. Considering the icy threat looming above them, that was quite possible. However there was a crucial distinction: Ducky didn't sound broken. Not yet.

A string of distant impacts swept through the mountains. Petrie looked up. Ducky's eyes opened, a defiant glint within them.

"What was that?" asked Murfy.

Another noise rippled across the landscape: like a crashing wave of rock.

A shadow of a smile lifted Pterano's face as he chuckled. "I'd say Littlefoot is doing battle in earnest."

Murfy's brow wrinkled in thought. "So he's like me? He can make big things happen from small actions?"

"To a degree, but not like you by far. From what I've seen, you are rather unique," Pterano stated.

"Then how did Littlefoot do that?" asked Murfy.

Pterano smirked. "I cannot say, but Littlefoot is also unique: he is the smartest and the mightiest. Never have I encountered his equal."

The flyer felt the mild tremor of a giant rising to her feet. He turned to see Ducky treading towards the mouth of the cave. Her every step reverberated indomitable will.

Pterano began to move in front of her. Her gaze gave him pause. She didn't look irked or confrontational. The brightness in her eyes had resurged with fire.

"Ducky, what are you doing?" he managed to inquire, as though the answer were not obvious enough.

"I am joining my friends," Ducky beamed.

His gaze turned to her afflicted arm.

Ducky sighed. "You know, this is not the first time I fought with a useless arm. Back when Ca and Nona started training me, I got injured all the time. It was not long before they broke this same arm. The wise thing to do might have been to let it heal, but what if something like thishappened in the middle of a fight? How would I keep going? Littlefoot and Cera were already years ahead of me. Spike was a battle genius, and Petrie had you. I had no spike tail, or a long tail, no horns or wings. I am not even very big, so I had to create something special for myself. There was no way to overpower my sisters, but what if their power couldn't even touch me? What if I could bend it against them? That idea grew into Flow Motion. It took time, years to really start working, but I did not have years. My arm was broken, so I had to figure out how to dance around the break."

Pterano's voice was grave. "Ducky, at present, your arm is not merely broken."

Ducky tilted her head with a playful smile. "And?"

Pterano could only stare. In doing so, for the first time he really saw Ducky, and realised he had made a fundamental misjudgment of her character. His mind drifted back to a conversation with her mother.

---

Years Ago ...

---

A flinching Pterano had lost count of the times he had witnessed Nona 'suplex' Ducky ... or was it Ca? He didn't know how they came up with these silly names, but the strange titles of their wrestling moves did not detract from their painful effectiveness.

"What purpose does this serve?" he asked. "Ducky does not appear to be improving."

Mama Swimmer replied with an ambivalent smile. "Those were ... and still are sometimes my thoughts exactly."

Her smile twitched when she heard her daughter slammed to the ground yet again.

"Then why is this behaviour permitted?" asked Pterano.

"After Ducky explained her reasoning?" Mama Swimmer sighed. "I had to let it be. She has a point."

"Hm," Pterano grunted skeptically.

They paused, willing themselves to quit watching the brutal spectacle while morbid intrigue bound their eyes all the same.

"You know the first thing Ducky did when she hatched?" asked Mama Swimmer.

He looked at her.

Mama Swimmer chuckled. "She chased down a flutterer with most of the egg shell still clinging to her tail! Then she pounced a tickly fuzzy who was minding his business, and proceeded to chase him! I had to step in when she nearly got her head bitten off by a sharp-beaked shelldragger."

Pterano squinted. That didn't sound like Ducky at all.

"She was feared nothing, wanted to be a part of everything: so curious and in love with the world and everyone within it. I worried that would one day get her killed, but it's what brought her friends together. It brought me my precious little Spike." Mama Swimmer gave a nostalgic sigh. "Somehow, Ducky is still alive after all these adventures, and that means something. When it all comes down to it, this?"

They watched a squealing Ducky hurtle through the air.

Mama Swimmer frowned but shook it off. "This, is nothing."

---

The Present ...

---

Finally, Pterano understood. The traumatic trek to The Great Valley had done nothing to break Ducky and her friends. If anything, it was the birth of their unique spirits. Time and time again, they ventured into The Mysterious Beyond, tested by fire, emerging unsinged. They thrived on the precipice of doom.

Ducky was innocent, but she was not fragile.

Petrie stepped forward. "Count me in."

A hyped Murfy laughed. "Me three! You guys are more epic than I ever imagined!"

Pterano flinched as the cave shuddered dangerously. "Murfy, did you just lean on the entrance?"

"Uh ... No? Maybe? ... Yes?"

Pterano sighed heavily.

Ducky giggled. "Anyway, do not worry about us. We are Valley Guard. I did not come out here to sit this out. If The Stone of Cold Fire is coming, let it find me fighting with my friends until the very end."

"Same here," Petrie added. "Hole or not, I can still fly."

The cave shook again.

"Murfy!" snapped Pterano.

"All I did was step on a rock ..." Murfy protested meekly.

"So, what do you say?" asked Ducky.

A menacing rumble racked the cave.

"Sorry! You should go, like now!" Murfy urged.

Ducky was already running. "Yup, yup, yup!"

She dove from the elevated cave and landed in a deft roll.

The flyers soared above her as the cave began to collapse. Pterano marveled at her agility.

~Ducky is not the most sizable giant, but a giant all the same,~ he thought. ~To see her move like that without inflicting injury is always remarkable.~

"Keep running!" Murfy panicked as he fled.

Confused, Ducky, Petrie and Pterano followed him.

"Aren't we safe outside the cave?" asked Petrie.

"Forget the cave!" Murfy exclaimed.

Ducky accelerated. Cracks raced ahead of her. She felt the ground begin to give, saw the path ahead rise as she began to fall.

Still, she felt alive.

Soon, her steps were punctuated by lengthening leaps, navigating the collapsing hillside. One more jump. She knew she wouldn't make it. Pterano's feet took hold of her shoulders and hoisted. It wasn't much: just an iota of extra air time that made all the difference.

Ducky hit the ground rolling effortlessly to a stand. She giggled profusely. What a rush! Her giggles ceased when she looked back, jaw dropping. Murfy's advice about forgetting the cave had been appropriate. It was gone ... along with half the cliff and a landslide of rubble carving a path deep into the hills behind it.

She, Petrie and Pterano turned slow, tentative stares upon Murfy. He looked nonchalant, even a little dead inside.

"M- Murfy ... how ...?" began Pterano.

He shrugged. "I stopped asking myself that years ago."

They flinched away as he bent his neck forward, gazing deep into the newly formed mountain passage.

"Hey! How crazy would it be if that's a shortcut?" asked Murfy.

He and Ducky expectantly looked at the flyers.

"I'll check!" volunteered Petrie.

"You will do no such thing!" Pterano asserted. "Preserve your energy. I shall inform you all should it prove a viable path."

He took to the air and followed the sounds of what could only be described as explosions.

---

(~Arrival in 59 minutes.~)

---

Dawn glided above the travelling group, thoughtful. "I dunno if this plan is enough."

"It helps when we stop holding back," Cera replied simply.

Dawn's almost dropped. "Excuse me?! You've been holding back this whole time? WHY!?"

Cera shrugged. "Several reasons. In sparring, we got in the habit of using safe amounts of force. Of course, we're tougher than most, so what bruises us would would take down most sharpteeth without actually ending them. Other than that, Littlefoot wanted to send the sharpteeth a message, and we mostly agreed with him."

"What message is that?" asked Dawn.

"That their lives mean something to us, and we could be friends, if they let us," Cera explained with a touch of sheepishness.

Dawn considered the concept. "How exactly would that work?"

"I've been planning it for years. It's not as hard as it sounds," Littlefoot explained.

Dawn thought for a moment. "What does the rest of the valley think?"

"They don't know," Littlefoot admitted.

"What will they think?" she pressed.

"If Ssavi's threats come to be, what better choice will we have?" he asked.

---

(~Arrival in 39 minutes.~)

---

Foolish threehorn.

She was swift, but the swiftest of her kind meant nothing to a fast biter.

Arrtafiss zigzagged into the crawler mounds, stealthily doubled back and slipped into the tunnels of one close to the edge of the disaster zone. From there, he peered at the gang, waiting for his biters to recover their wits and renew the attack. He had meticulously studied The Valley Guard: their tactics, their limits, the way they adapted. Second paw accounts were one thing. Discovering the extent of the Circle Breakers' power in person was an invaluable opportunity. As much as his teeth itched for revenge, he wasn't ready to defeat them. This experience would yield valuable insight for toppling the rest of The Guard. It would be a trifle once the founding members were gone ... strange ... why wasn't Cera returning to her herd?

Where was she?

He felt footfalls.

Two horns burst through the wall, missing his neck by a smidgeon. The entire mound shook and cracked as they heaved upwards. Arrtafiss was already fleeing the mound. Its soil-derivative composition was not as sturdy or dense as the rocks in the area, but given enough sheer mass? It could easily crush a biter. He felt that deadly mass collapse behind him. Once sure the danger had subsided, he whipped around, bared his teeth and watched as the cloud of dust settled around her massive silhouette, unveiling the all too gleeful grin on her face.

"There you Artie!" Cera exclaimed.

She thundered towards him.

Arrtafiss' face contorted in contempt. Away he dashed.

She gave chase.

"Hold still, Artie! I wanna play 'Squishy Artie'!" she called.

"SSSSILENCCCE!" spat Arrtafiss.

"Why?"

"SHADDUP!"

"But I don't know why!"

"WAIT YOUR TURRRN AND DIE WITH DIGNITY!"

"Dignity? HA! You don't anything about me, do you?"

He was well aware that he'd lost his cool, which didn't look good for an alpha, but that threehorn was a harassment to his soul. Fine. Let her talk. They would banter. Occupied, she wouldn't realise he was leading her into the jaws of his pack, beyond hope of backup. If this dullard was too stupid to avoid a trap so early, she wasn't worth testing.

Her footsteps receded.

"Nice try, Artie!"

A growl rumbled in Arrtafiss's throat. He snapped a command. His biters raced after her. She glanced back. Was ... she laughing? Very well. Looking back interrupted one's stride, and laughter impaired Leafeaters on the run - one of many things that made them inferior. His subordinates were already on her tail.

Unfortunately, Littlefoot's tail was already upon them.

The longneck had surged forth while his friends guarded the rear. A few quick steps. That was all it took to bring him into range.

Then came the explosions.

In nature, seldom did anything 'explode'. Fire mountains? Sure. Accursed, fermented tree sweets? ... Sometimes ... Flying rocks? The force of their impacts was devastating, even the little ones. Nothing of his world could strike so hard as a thing hurled from Beyond The Mysterious Beyond.

That longneck had proven him wrong.

Soil erupted, literally erupted when Littlefoot's blows came down like small flying rocks. Cera's pursuers reeled, tumbled and collapsed should they find themselves close enough to suffer the shock. Such was the speed of his strikes that only the fastest biters had much hope of avoiding them. Upon reaching refuge, Cera stuck out her tongue at the alpha. How he seethed to see her try that again when he fed that tongue to the hatchlings. The look on her face would be delectable.

All in good time.

He barked a command and his pack tested the waters, swarming, probing for openings, always just far enough to withdraw from harm in an instant. It was a deadly conversation of actions: We do this, you do what? You do that, we do what? How tired are you? How much are you paying attention? When will you slip? How well do your new allies keep up with you? The answers were surprising.

He was in no mood for surprises.

His pack found a crack in their defenses. A few began to slip through. Blink and you'd miss it: the blue fast runner shot through the air and struck the first biter senseless with a single kick. The other biters hesitated. That was all the time his allies needed to turn and teach them how unwelcome they were.

Ssavi was exceptional, or as Gamma Guerra privately called her 'that unstoppable freak of nature'. None could match her speed. The fast runners were no exception, but they were close. Too close. When they moved, nothing was wasted. Every step, every little leap carried them as far and precisely as possible. It was raw speed maximised with brilliance, just like Ruby, their sister no doubt. As a pair? They might have been hyper competent. In a large group? They were as green as the food they consumed. However, Ruby's fighting style was honed to complement her massive friends. Passed down to her siblings, it was beginning to show.

The flyer was an enigma. She harassed his subordinates the same way they probed their prey. With death-defying swoops and nigh impossible turns, she was everywhere, saw everything, sealing defensive gaps and with apt warnings and attacks. Clearly, she had adopted protocols from Petrie on how to synergise with his friends, but something wasn't adding up. Everything she did was just a little too swift, a tad too snappy, like a flyer in her absolute prime and then some. Had he not heard from trusted sources, Arrtafiss would never have believed she had flown to the valley and back and retained this kind of energy.

Littlefoot, Cera and Spike could not boast such stamina. While fresh biters would replace the weary, The Valley Guard could only keep going as their minds and muscles gradually waned. Littlefoot's latest attack was a testament of that. Sloppy, it overshot its target, scooped up a piece of rubble and ...

Oh no.

Arrtafiss dashed aside as the projectile crashed where he stood, shattered remains stinging his tail.

Cera's giggles boiled his blood. It was time to show them the power of a Clever Claw alpha.

Arrtafiss roared a command.

Littlefoot's eyes widened.

Good. He understood. In it's purest form, the command was untranslatable, a code word only known to the initiated. However, there was a hopelessly simplified interpretation any sharptooth speaker could comprehend:

'Flash Flood'.

The result was instant. His fast biters coalesced as though of one one mind, combining all they'd learnt of The Valley Guard's strengths and weaknesses into an unstoppable charge meant to crash through their defenses. It came at an angle Littlefoot could not counter with his waves of debris lest he catch his friends in the blast.

They drowned in biters, tails, horns, feet and beak struggling to beat back the wave in futility. Littlefoot's legs buckled as the onslaught of attacks to pressure points took their toll. He began to backtrack. His high precision strikes saved his friends from several critical hits, but he was spread thin. There was only so much quick stomps could do to dissuade fast biters from completely overwhelming him. Their only mercy was that the biters attacked from an obvious angle.

Littlefoot's instincts screamed the golden rule. ~'If a fast biter lets you see them ...-'!~

Pain racked his neck. He'd wandered too close to the mounds still standing. No, they'd herded him. Someone had leapt from one of those mounds and latched onto his throat. Claws and teeth mercilessly sought the vulnerable flesh behind his stone scales.

'Perrisssh ..." Arrtafiss hissed against his neck.

The alpha barely saw her coming.

He pushed off of Littlefoot's neck and a sunset blur blazed between them. His eyes locked with Dawn's for a fraction of a moment. There was something familiar within her glare: something dangerous.

The ground approached quickly. So did horns.

Arrtafiss twisted in the air, narrowly avoiding those horns and landing feet first on Cera's face. His claws connected as he pushed off of her. He was aiming for her eyes. She'd raised her head at the last instant, suffering scratches to the cheeks instead.

He touched down, returning to the air just before she stomped (they were not playing 'Squishy Artie'); latched his jaws around her crest and twirled over her head. His claws would have found the pressure point behind her neck had she not whipped her head back to clamp his foot with her crest. Instead, he managed an ineffectual kick to the shoulder that propelled him across her back.

Cera whirled to confront him as he landed.

Arrtafiss touched the spots on his face corresponding with Cera's new scratches. The gesture brought to mind a hatchling wiping her tears.

She growled, if a leafeater's grunt could even be called a 'growl'.

He grinned savagely. Yes, there was a certain charm to taunting.

Cera hardly took a step before his command sent a wave of biters crashing into her side.

He pretended not to see the blue and pink streaks incoming at the corner of his eye. The alpha sidestepped, spun, caught the feet of the male with his tail. The female skidded to a stop upon witnessing the fate of her tumbling sibling. Arrtafiss lunged, snapped. She pulled back, spared by speed and luck. He could taste the closeness of bite. The alpha lunged again. He would not miss a second tim-!

The thought cut short as Arrtafiss staggered back, jaw stinging.

... Did she just scratch him?

Those claws were more biter than runner. She must have figured out how to sharpen them, but had no idea how to throw a slash.

He would educate her.

The result sent her sprawling to the ground but her tail caught his chin on the way down. He rushed in to finish her before she could recover. She side rolled ... towards him ... shot out her foot. It found his stomach. He was still recoiling when she pushed off the ground, whirled through the air and landed a kick on his skull. Returning to Earth on all fours, the runner stood, claws raised.

Arrtafiss blinked, mildly perplexed. One hit was luck. Three was a pattern, and she'd done it all before recovering her footing. Interesting trick. How many times could it save her? He would find out.

A tail blazed out of the blue. Arrtafiss threw himself to the side. That spared him the spikes. The slightly higher base of the tail struck nonetheless. It hurt.

A lot.

Arrtafiss hurtled through the air, tumbled, rolled to his feet and nearly collapsed as his lungs struggled to reclaim their contents.

Spike's glare seared into him. He had forgotten the spiketail. Everyone forgot the spiketail until he gave painful reminders: somehow too slow to stand out as a threat yet too fast to avoid once he got close.

Littlefoot's tail, Cera's horns and Dawn's dives chased Arrtafiss from their midst. He didn't understand. His biters should have kept them too busy for such retaliation. The Valley Guard should have been dying. A reevaluation revealed why that wasn't the case. They'd adapted, in nuanced but effective ways. Above all, they did not give up. They fought with the same fervour as a pack that knew it was going to win. Morale-crushing force held no lasting advantage over such grit and determination. His pack was learning too, regrouping. All the nuance and positive thinking in the would wouldn't save The Guard form sheer numbers and wit.

A thunderous sound rolled in from the distance.

It sounded like a landslide of horrifically epic proportions. Why now? He was not a big believer in coincidences. Had a Great Guardian made landfall already ... or a False Guardian? A twinge of dread twisted in his gut, but friend or fiend, it would not deny him revenge.

However, Littlefoot's latest stunt just might.

The longneck had begun to whirl.

Arrtafiss braced for a wave attack or projectile, but something different was at play. The dirt and powdered rubble Littlefoot rent into the air went too high, too cyclically, too ... everywhere. It was enough to obscure his friends and much of his lower body: an odd smokescreen. Arrtafiss nearly dared think there was something elemental about it. Had The Lone Dinosaur ever done this? He racked his mind for accounts and drew a blank. Even Dawn had swooped and vanished behind the dust. At the back of his mind, he knew that implied trickery, but he didn't care.

The time had come for a battle of the alphas.

Littlefoot locked glares with the Arrtafiss and sent a true wave of earth and powdered mound heading his way.

Arrtafis sneered and rallied his biters with a roar. Littlefoot wasn't the only one could make waves.

---

Years Ago ...

---

A younger Littlefoot watched in awe as Doc's whirling tail tore spirals of sand from the ground, partially obscuring his figure. It ended as quickly as it began.

"Close as I've ever gotten," Doc explained. "Third swing always throws off the flow pattern, but it's not like I've ever tried to go further. You might be the first to try and get it done."

Littlefoot's face alit with excitement. He had the perfect mentor, in the perfect place to experiment with his idea. Bedecked with a sandy floor, the cave was beautiful, its smooth walls gleaming in the solemn glow fading in from the entrance, but ...

"Why are we so hidden?" asked Littlefoot. "I mean, there are other places just as good as this. Why the cave?"

A trio of nibblers flit into sight. Annoyed, Doc sent them a crack of his tail. They almost fainted, haphazardly fluttering back from whence they came.

"If your idea works, it's good enough to be a 'Secret Way'," Doc explained. "The Secret Ways are a time-honoured tradition of great longneck warriors."

Littlefoot tilted his head. ~'Tradition'? That's not like Doc at all.~

"Also practical," Doc added.

~Ah.~ Littlefoot nodded. ~That sounds more like it.~

"Why the secrecy in The Valley? I mean, it's not like sharpteeth have a chance of seeing us." Littlefoot gazed after the departed nibblers. They were technically sharpteeth, but did they really count?

"In case you need to fight for a lady friend," Doc explained.

Littlefoot blushed at the awkward notion. He really couldn't picture that scenario ... as possible as it was.

"It'll also help if your herd turns against you."

He stiffened. "My friends would never do that!"

"Cera might."

"Why would she?"

"You're tellin' me you've never fought before?"

"All friends fight."

"That's not what I meant."

Littlefoot shrank at the painful memory of their battle on the way to the valley.

Doc had seen enough. "Don't tell Cera."

"... Okay ..."

"Now, let's get started."

---

The Present ...

---

Theta Sslo's feathers bristled with excitement. He strained his ears to pick up the approach of prey against the cacophony of combat. This battle would go down in legend, that much was certain. He would be proud to tell the tale to his future hatchlings, prouder still if he could play an instrumental role. Alpha Arrtafiss in his wisdom had predicted that The Valley Guard would split up to save the kids. Divided food folk were weak food folk. That led to the omega's current post, lying in wait between the crawler mound battle zone and the longneck kid they held under threat. There was no guarantee that the prey would come his way, but they were lazy, thoughtless creatures who took the path of least resistance more often than not. He was stationed at the edge of one such path, claws ever poised for the moment-

Bushes rustled. A rush of blue. It was there. Then it was gone, with only the gamy sent trail to tell the tale.

... HE'D MISSED THE FAST RUNNER BRAT?!

Sslo surged after the prey. He would redeem himself! Regardless, the scent trail grew weaker and weaker.

...

Zircon's heart pounded in his ears, its tempo melding with fleet footfalls that practically flew across the forest floor. A fresh pair of jaws flashed out of nowhere. He sated its hunger with his dust. The ambusher gave chase ... of course. They all did, but any biter hot on his tail was left out in the cold pretty quickly. Darting, dodging, bounding, bouncing off trees, hills and rocks to quicken turns and preserve momentum, Zircon was untouchable.

Come what may, this battle was a great ego booster!

He was veering off course. Peering through the canopy, Zircon glimpsed Little Valley's cliffs and reoriented himself. He was close. The tree line broke and he surged into his most ferocious sprint; sighted the longneck and her captors.

They spotted him. It was way too late to make a difference.

Shock and awe: a concept Zircon had been falling in love with since Littlefoot's display of raw power. He launched himself at the biter that pinned her, threw a mid-air kick so savage that it hurt his own foot; twisted, rebounded off the ground; spiraled into another biter foot first; ricocheted off a boulder; blitz from biter to biter.

Just like that, it was over.

The young longneck could scarcely believe her eyes. This kind of thing didn't happen. Ever. From a tender she'd learnt that anything too good to be true probably wasn't. Tales of The Valley Guard's heroics were no exception. No one was that benevolent, that mighty or lucky. Not in this world, and yet there stood a runner who had felled her captors in heartbeats.

Zircon knew he shouldn't pause, but he couldn't help savouring his handiwork. After years of mostly fleeing 'the speedy scourge of The Mysterious Beyond', he was delighted to find that he could fight them en masse. He could beat them.

It was cathartic.

~Good to know they're not all as good as Arrtafiss,~ he thought.

"A-are you ... The Valley Guard?" the longneck asked.

Zircon was taken aback. "Uh, no. Nothing of the sort. I'm just sort of a friend of theirs."

She blinked blankly. A mere 'sort of a friend' of The Valley Guard could do this? What kind of beasts were they?

"Behind you!" she urged.

Pain exploded through Zircon's skull. If not for that warning, he would be out cold, but he managed to roll with the kick at the last moment, literally.

Zircon scarcely stood before another kick sent him slamming into a boulder. It was not the last. A quick leap to the top of the boulder spared him a stone-chipping kick.

He assessed the situation, resisting the urge to nurse his head (never let a biter know that you're hurt).

Most of the sharpteeth he'd knocked down were either rising or standing at ready. Their numbers tripled as the forest pursuers finally caught up. He was surrounded.

"Rrreal hunterrss finissh the job," one of the biters rumbled. "You, will neverr be a hunterrr."

The word 'RUN!' formed on Zircon's beak, but it died in his throat. It would only serve to draw attention to the longneck.

Besides, she was already gone.

---

The little flyer in the jaws of Delta Austyrr's subordinate made feeble attempts to peck himself free. As pathetic as it was, the fact that he even tried was impressive. Some flyers panicked themselves to death when captured, even more if injured. That was the only reason why they hadn't broken his wings. Regardless, he would have been in pain when the jaws tightened every time he resisted. Such resolve was uncommon in sharpteeth. She would make it a point to train it into her hatchlings, but that was a thought for a later time.

Then he broke into song about how small his world was while giving her the stink eye and gesturing that jaws that held him. The subordinate tried to silence him with a squeeze. It wasn't working.

Austyrr tried to ignore him and the battles breaking out across Little Valley. Her eyes were on the tree line.

The sunset flyer was coming.

It was not normal for a flyer speed through a forest on the wing, but if Petrie could do it, Dawn was likely capable. Besides, she'd seen and heard enough to know this flyer was not normal. Her subordinates informed her that the swimmer's captors were overwhelmed by a juvenile fast runner. They had to tell her because she wouldn't turn and see it for herself. It bolstered her resolve. She would not suffer a similar fate. There was no biter better than her to bring down an abnormal flyer.

The nibblers' cries heralded her opponent.

Her muscles tensed.

Dawn tore from the forest, frightfully fast; banked right, flanked left and drove her beak between the subordinate's jaws, forcing them open. He dropped his little captive, but the captive was never their priority. Austyrr had whirled into the air the moment Dawn began to flank, jaws latching around the neck as she landed on the flyer's back.

"Ff-FL- Y!" Dawn chocked.

The little flyer fluttered away for all he was worth.

Powerful flaps flipped Dawn into the air and back to the ground. She landed biter first, jarring Austyrr's jaws loose. How had that worked?

Spine, should have been crushed, thought Austyrr.

Dawn rolled to a stand, snapped her wings open and struck back biters on both sides. She surged skyward.

She was not alone.

A shadow wafted over Dawn and a kick crashed into her wing. She spiraled to the ground, immediately subdued by the several jaws and claws.

Austyrr righted herself mid-air and touched down, closing her wings.

Dawn stared in fascination. Many biter kinds possessed wings. While this one's wings were by no means big or strong enough for flight, they were larger than the norm. It would have given the fast biter an edge in aerial agility, allowing her to pull off more daring stunts in the middle of a leap.

"Nice wings," Dawn commented.

"One of yours should be broken. Why is it not?" Austyrr asked.

"I guess ya didn't kick it hard enough," Dawn taunted.

Austyrr smiled. "Let'ss ssee how harrd you can handle."

At Austyrr's command, her fast biters swarmed Dawn.

---

Zeta Trrayl didn't understand: a large spiketail couldn't just disappear like this! Sure, he was green. Sure, he'd masked his scent, but they were practically on top of him! Spiketails did not simply melt into the bushes!

Iota Trrakkrr grumbled as he scanned his surroundings, wondering how such a loud-mouthed, oversized hatchling managed to make zeta rank.

Her eyes sliced through him. He froze. Had he ... let that slip out?

Trrayl's jaws snapped in his face: FIND. HIM.

He hastened to comply, startled to discover a trace of a scent. Trrakkrr announced his discovery.

Trrayll's feathers lifted. Let the hunt proceed!

...

Spike was well aware that his bush bath was wearing off. He was aware that they'd picked up his trail, if the female's sudden silence meant anything. He was aware of a lot of things. Too many at once, sometimes, but the fast biters' antics ranked rather low on his list of priorities at the moment.

He pushed away the sounds of friends and foes alike. The forest came to life, its song strong and unique. How he would be content to simply sit there and be, let it serenade his soul until the green food's beguiling voice beckoned his hunger.

My rare berries, ripe and sweet

await the special one to eat.

Even my leaves are saccharine in taste.

Seek me now, do make haste.

Spike hesitated. It was so close.

He shook his head. ~No time for that. I'm looking for something useful.~

Ouch. Still, you'll find me as a wonderful ally!

Meal or miasma depends on how I'm applied.

Enough talk.

Spike was already barreling for the bushes that summoned him. He took a huge chomp and briefly savoured the berries and leaves before wallowing in them. Finally, he swung his tail into one of the less squished bushes, securely lodged in his spikes and uprooted it - an unconventional skill of seemingly questionable merit, but Spike never cared for conventions.

...

Trrayl was salivating. She could see the prey! While most sharpteeth favoured swimmers, she loved the robust texture of spiketail. They were closing in. Those stout legs could only carry him so fast! ... Wait, why was there a bush attached to his tail?

GREAT GUARDIANS, what was that SMELL?!

Trrayl lurched to a stop as her lunch attempted a violent egress. Her ego took slight consolation in the fact that her entire hunting party suffered a similar fate. Nonetheless, of all the green food in all of Little Valley, he had happened upon that one patch of bushes they abhorred above all others?! She could have cried.

It just wasn't fair!

Trrayl forced herself to suck it up. No. He was her spiketail. No prey could do this to her and live to tell the tale!

...

The young spiketail watched as his captors lowered themselves, anticipating battle. Judging from the wave of spooked nibbler cries, something, someone, big was coming, but against all these biters? He'd seen several of them knock down a stubborn threehorn with strangely effective strikes. Then again, the longneck out there was soloing about a hundred biters. Maybe there was hope for him yet.

A spray of smattering of colourful orbs flew from the forest, splattering against the ground and his captors. The spiketail's eyes lit up. They smelled so good! ... Why were the biters dry heaving all of a sudden?

Distracted by the mixed reception, he almost didn't notice Spike marching up to them. Some biters did. They raced to attack. A flick of his bush-bedecked tail and Spike sent them retching with a couple sweet bubbles. He didn't even change pace. His body, most prominently his face, was smeared with the sticky, red residue of berries that brought to mind a sharptooth fresh from the feast, but he wasn't a sharptooth.

That made it all the scarier.

The biters around the youngster stepped back. Even the kid backed away, though the thoughtless, gut-driven part of his mind went into a frenzy as the source of the smell drew near. It was a very new and confusing combination for him.

Spike raised his tail.

The biters almost collapsed before retreating, their resolve lost in a fresh fit of retching. From the scent to the threat display of dangerous Circle Breaker, it was all too much. What chance did they have?

Spike's tail gestured for the kid to follow him.

The young spiketail couldn't believe it. There was no struggle, no running, no pain. Just like that, he was going to live!

"Sstop right there, sspiketail!"

The two spiketails turned to see Trrayl and her hunting party emerge from the trees, vibrating with fury and ... other things. The youngster hid behind him.

Spike arched an eyebrow.

Trrayl hesitated. They'd actually stopped? What next? The nauseating scent was impairing her quick wit.

She cleared her throat. "You- you think you'rre ssmarrt? You think you desserrrve to live? FOOL! No matter what you do, you'll alwayss be a BIG, FAT, FEASSST!"

Spike slowly blinked, having lost all interest in the conversation ... or lack thereof.

Omega Syymp cheered her on. You tell him, Trrayl!

Trrayl's chest puffed as her confidence grew. "Sso, sssilent one, will you sscrream when I end you? Let'ss ssee!"

She surged towards him, zigzagging unpredictably like the late Ssavi. It was a fitting tribute. While not nearly as fast, she was sure her speed would be sufficient for a sluggish spiketail.

Spike's eyes lazily tracked her movements.

Steps from contact, Trrayl raised her claws as she went for the head.

He opened his mouth. Out boomed a behemoth of a belch.

Trrayl could hardly think before the odiously sweet fumes hit her head on. She went limp, fell like a log, skidded to a stop at his feet.

A smug smile crept across Spike's face as he looked down at the twitching biter. He turned his eyes upon her allies.

They scattered as quickly as their legs could carry them.

Spike shrugged and began to leave.

The youngster snapped out of his awe and skipped up to Spike's side. "I wanna be just like you when I grow up!"

His eyes wandered to the bush on Spike's tail.

Spike uncomfortably followed his gaze.

The youngster's eyes pleaded pitifully.

Spike tucked the bush out of sight.

Those eyes somehow seemed to grow larger.

Sighing in defeat, Spike brought his weapon/snack in front of the youngster, who took a bite almost too big for a tyke his size.

Spike pulled back the bush as though the kid spontaneously set on fire.

"WAIT! Just ten more chomps!" the kid begged as he hopped for the bush. "I haven't eaten since you guys showed up! Those sharpteeth were STARVING me!"

---

Amethyst wasn't lost. At least, she didn't think she was. She'd quadruple checked: this was the right spot, but where was everyone? She'd be lying if she said she wasn't relieved by the lack of biters, but the swimmer's absence balanced that out with healthy dread of the unknown.

"H-hello?" Amethyst called in a risk arguably foolhardy.

The swimmer's squeal leapt into her ears.

She dashed towards it and came upon ... a sinkhole? Amethyst tilted her head. It was big enough to comfortably contain five Littlefoots, its mouth hairy with greenery growing from the edges and reaching from its depths. Getting a good view of the bottom was no small challenge.

Amethyst rubbed her arm. ~I don't like this ...~

Another squeal compelled her to get over it.

Her eyes darted about, plotting a way down. She found one, somewhat. With that much green in the way, she'd have to wing it a little.

The fast runner jumped in, bounding between stone wall and trees, balancing atop branches, clinging to trunks before planning her next moves. At times like this, she was especially glad she'd sharpened her claws.

~Just like speedrunning through the mountains,~ Amethyst told herself in an attempt at self-consolation.

She botched a landing on a mossy branch.

~Or not.~

Down she tumbled through a flurry of foliage. The ground came fast.

She was faster.

Amethyst crouched into the landing, mentally checking for injuries as she stood. ~All falls considered, that wasn't so bad as bad can be.~

The good thing about plummeting every so often was that she knew exactly how to do it.

Amethyst stepped forward, looking around. Muted light filtered through the leaves. The green food here didn't perfectly match that of Little Valley's forest. This was a miniature world onto itself: tranquil, beautiful, almost cozy.

~Just the kind of place I'd explore for exploring's sake,~ she thought.

That is, until she stepped on what remained of the ribcage of a medium sized leafeater.

~Okay. That brings me back to really, really not liking this.~

The swimmer's squeal yanked her attention towards a cluster of ferns. She took off towards it. Maybe the swimmer had fallen in here and the fast biters didn't bother recover her.

A dark form exploded from the ferns.

Amethyst reeled out of the way, fell, pushed back up to her feet and turned to face it. Her vision was eclipsed by a black thing, so close, so fast that she had no hope of avoiding its attack. Blow after blow blindsided her from everywhere and nowhere. She was falling again. This time, she saw it coming. Her kick connected with the black thing before she went down, shoved off the ground with her tail and twirled to a stand.

Nothing. Not a glimpse. Not a sound.

The voice was but a whisper:" How fascinating."

Amethyst nearly jumped out of her scales. That was her voice, but it somehow sounded very wrong. She whirled to scratch.

The thing ghosted aside, effortlessly avoiding her claws.

She darted back.

It glided forth, matching her movements. The distance between them remained unchanged.

It was like trying to evade her own shadow.

That description was apt for more reasons than she was comfortable to think. The creature before her? Its scales drank every drop of the meagre light that reached them. No highlights. No shadows. Just black with eyes.

Amethyst's fighting instincts choked. How does one battle an inescapable wraith?

"Falling doesn't throw you off," it continued. "You continue to fight when off balanced. Are you accustomed to being clumsy?"

Amethyst blinked at the unexpected question. She gathered her wits. First of all, not a 'wraith'. It, he, had a normal fast biter's maw, even if the teeth were perfectly white and symmetrical. Under those otherworldly scales there had to be an ordinary sharptooth ... right? His voice was devoid of the snarling, hissing accent Arrtafiss had laid on thick. It sounded leafeater, smoother than leafeater. Almost too smooth, too ethereal, like an icy wind.

~But where did my other voice that wasn't my voice come from?~

She thought to lie, but her gut told her that wouldn't work. "I'm just a little clumsy, but I make my clumsiness work."

He nodded slowly, unblinking eyes fixed on hers.

She cleared her throat. "You're not trying to kill me ... are you?"

He tilted his head in question.

"If trying to kill me is what you were trying, you would have used your claws and teeth," she reasoned.

He returned his head to its original position. Was he smiling? The dark scales made it hard to tell.

"W-would you like to be friends?" Amethyst ventured with her own awkward smile.

His smile grew bigger. She could see it in his eyes. He nodded slowly.

Amethyst should have been over the moon. Instead, she had a sinking feeling. It was the answer she wanted, but a wise Mysterious Beyonder always trusted her instincts.

Nonetheless, she kept up the conversation until a better idea was settled upon. "I'm Amethyst."

"I'm Amethyst," he echoed in a twisted imitation of her voice.

She felt sick. Well, at least she knew the source the mimicry.

"W ... what about you?" Amethyst continued.

"Ω-ל̴̢̚ח̶̥͠ק ו̶̱̽ת̶̻͐," he replied.

Amethyst's mind tried and failed to wrap around the sounds he'd made. ~Very different from the difference between Arrtafiss and Ssavi. That word didn't sound like a name, or even a word.~

Again, her wrong voice came out of his mouth. "It's not a name I could say even if I tried to say it."

Was he ... speaking as though he were actually her? Okay. She really wanted him to stop. Should she tell him? No. Best not risk unnecessary provocation.

He leaned a little closer. "Friends play. Maybe we should play a game?"

She swallowed hard. "M-maybe ... Where is the swimmer?"

The fast biter stepped aside. "She is already playing: silently hiding here, somewhere. She thinks he doesn't know that she is where where she is." He chuckled at the notion. "She's too scared to call out to me. M̵̗̅͘ǎ̸̛͍yb̶͖͊e̶̞̟̋ ̶̣͕̇ŝ̵̪̀h̷̗̳͋e̴̖͜͝ ̴̩̙̈ḳ̵̬͘n̴͚̆̀ô̸̢̺ws ̶̖́s̴̻͘͝ö̶͇̬́m̴̦͝ê̴̤t̶͓̀ḥ̷̈in̴̗͂͠g̷͍̩͝ ̴̘̀͆ä̷̫̫́b̷͎̀̒oụ̴̽̕t̵̐ͅ ̸̪͚͊ẖ̷́î̶͚͍m̴̭̍ ̶̤̃͗ṭ̶̇́ḧ̴͔́a̵̖̼̅ẗ̵̛̮́ ̶̻̩̌I ḓ̶̬̄o̶͕͒͠n̵̡͒'̷̤̇t̶̲̓.̷̲̏̑ I should find her. He will not stop me at first, but every twenty heartbeats, the rules will change."

"Wait! What are the rules?" Amethyst blurted.

"I have sixteen heartbeats," he notified.

She raced to find the swimmer.

---

Cera was not enjoying this. Give her Red Claw any day, but a valley full of fast biters? It was becoming insufferable. At her friends' side, teamwork compensated for her lack of speed and reach. Sure, she'd figured out how to botch their pressure point attacks with strategic squirms and thrashes. Granted, she could roll when things got overwhelming, and defend her vulnerable eyes with flicks of the horns, but every biter she took down forced her to squeeze out more brain power than she would have preferred.

~Wait a second ... is that one making 'naah, nah-nah, NAH, NAAH' NOISES AT ME!?~

Cera abandoned all logic and gave full reign to the part of her mind that screamed 'SQUISH 'EM ALL!' on repeat.

The offender had fled by a path that wasn't much of a path at all. Dense with greenery obscuring the floor, his speed was hampered. Cera had no such issue. Woe to any bush, boulder or tree in her path. She was closing in. She was ... falling?

"Oof!"

Cera's rationality returned to make sense of the situation. ~Okay, not my worst landing. I didn't even see the hole beneath the underbrush ... did they just trap me?~

Her offender appeared at the edge of the sinkhole, smiling down at her. A chorus of 'naah, nah-nah, nah, naahs' filled her ears.

So much for rationality. Cera attacked the walls like a raging beast.

The unperturbed offender bobbed his head in satisfaction. His fellow biters sang his praises, paws slapping his back in the chummy commendation.

...

This kid was not normal.

He never pleaded, never whimpered, never said a word. He wouldn't even scream when they bit him. They'd checked the peach threehorn's neck for injuries or abnormalities. None. Gamma Guerra's theory was that he had a voice.

He just wasn't using it.

That wasn't to say he was stupid. Reading prey was a vital skill among sharpteeth, and Guerra didn't hold his rank by being bad at it. He could see it in the kid's eyes. He was sharp. Sharp, and angry. Guerra couldn't tell if he was just fed up with the situation or simply angry by default. Perhaps both? At least he'd been cooperative.

Guerra frowned as a giant thud and nearby jubilation met his ears: omegas, from the raucous sound of it. So, their trap worked on Cera? Disappointing. Easily the biggest Clever Claw, Guerra was looking forward to testing his might and mind against the mightier, dumber, albeit worthy threehorn. If mere omegas bested one of The Great Valley's toughest bruisers, his pack would have nothing to worry about.

Nonetheless, Guerra grinned at the little threehorn. "Yourr herrro isn't coming forr you."

The kid glared at him, rolled his eyes and returned them to the battle.

Guerra's grin fell. Always with the glares. As annoying as it was, there was an element of intrigue. What would it take to break this threehorn? He purred at the prospect of finding out.

The subordinate holding the captive rubbed his ribs, sore from his battle with the The Valley Guard at Ssavi's side.

The kid glanced at him.

This was not lost on Guerra.

Another cacophony of collapsing mountain rock drew the fast biters' eyes. Guerra didn't believe in Great Guardians, but, hypothetically, if something powerful was out there, it was closing in.

A pained cry drew his attention to the subordinate, now lying on the floor as the peach threehorn ran as fast as his legs could carry him.

Guerra cackled heartily. At least one threehorn would amuse him! He decided to give the kid 'till the count of ten.

---

"I'm here to save you, to save you here I am!" Amethyst called.

Amethyst practically felt the twenty heartbeats hit zero. The swimmer had not revealed her position. Had Ω-ל̴̢̚ח̶̥͠ק ו̶̱̽ת̶̻͐ lied, or was the swimmer simply too terrified to speak up?

"I'm over here!"

She darted towards the source of the voice. "Over where?"

"Over here!"

She halted. ~A different source, or was the source I thought it was was different from the start?~

"Please, help!"

She resisted the urge to respond. ~It sounds just a bit different from how it sounded when I heard the swimmer when we got here. Ω-ו̶̱̽ת̶̻͐-... whatever his name is can copy voices, but copying voices from so many spots? Are there other biters down here, or is he moving in a way that I can't see him move?~

"I know you're scared, scared is what you have a right to be!" Amethyst called. "But please, tell me where you are! I'm fast, and I will save you before he gets you!"

She tapped her foot anxiously. ~Eight heartbeats.~

"Follow my voice! Please!"

That was the swimmer.

She tore towards the sound at maximum speed.

"I'm in the tree! HURRY!"

~Three heartbeats, two heartbeats, one heartbeat, ZERO-!~

Something crashed into her. Amethyst's world tilted as she went down. She would have turned the fall in her favour, but the weight of whatever struck her was still there.

~But ... I was moving so fast ...~ she told herself.

She crashed to the mossy floor, writhed, then stilled, eyes wide at the feel of a curved claw renowned for death. It was against her stomach.

Now she saw him, standing over her like darkness itself.

"Please!" Amethyst begged

He leaned in, grinning, that corrupted replica of her voice oozing from between his teeth. "I should plead harder. He l̸̠̀i̶̧̓ḱ̵͖ȇ̵̞s̶̤̀ it."

Amethyst's demeanour shifted. Her breathing calmed as the panic faded from her eyes.

"Thank you."

Ω-ל̴̢̚ח̶̥͠ק ו̶̱̽ת̶̻͐ looked perplexed. "Why did I thank him?"

She bent her long neck, bit the death claw, yanked him from his feet and kicked him off mid fall in one, fluid move.

Amethyst smoothly pushed to a stand with her tail before circling the black biter. "You showed me that you are what you are - a monster who delights in misery. I would have wasted time reaching out to a heart that wasn't there to be reached," she narrowed her eyes, "so thank you."

Her chilling giggle bubbled from deep within Ω-ל̴̢̚ח̶̥͠ק ו̶̱̽ת̶̻͐'s his chest.

Amethyst stopped circling, but only briefly. Once she proceeded, he mimicked her movements right down to the step.

"He is what he is, but what is he?" Ω-ל̴̢̚ח̶̥͠ק ו̶̱̽ת̶̻͐ asked.

They charged each other in perfect sync.

---

The longneck girl curled into a discrete nook, deep in the tunnels of a crawler mound. The sounds of battle seemed to grow more distant in the absence of imminent threat. Her mind began to wander. It had been a long day, rich in new concepts to contemplate.

The Valley Guard was real, they were every bit as heroic as the tales, but that fast runner was not one of them, yet he'd saved her. What had she done? Run at the first possible opportunity? That's what he'd wanted, right? It was he who chose to risk his life for her. She'd promised nothing in return, and yet ... she felt guilty ...

Her instincts flared. Footsteps. It sounded like a pair, which could mean her runner saviour or-

"Therre you arrre!" purred Sslo.

She thought she was screaming. She heard it, but her lips were sealed, throat clogged by a lump of raw terror. The scream was in her head.

Sslo entered the tunnel, looking around. "Nice place you got here." He inhaled deeply. "Say, something smells awfully good!"

She ... couldn't ... move. Sometimes, fear was her dearest friend. It picked her up and gave wings to her feet. Then there were times when it was her vilest enemy, turning muscles to stone and mind to mush as though staying still would somehow cause the danger to disappear.

He made a show of sniffing around, following the apparent aroma until his muzzle was right in front of her.

Well, she was moving now, though violently shaking wasn't exactly progress.

Sslo feigned cluelessness. "What's wrong? You look about ready to faint! Are you hungrrrry?" He chuckled. "Why not join me and my friends for dinne-?"

Fear was her friend again.

She headbutted him in the chin and made a break for it. Her escape skidded to a stop as the wings of fear failed her.

He'd headed her off.

"You. Arre. Verrry. Rrrrude ..." he rumbled. "I'll have to teach you ssome mannerrss!"

More footsteps.

A blue blur burst into the chamber, slamming Sslo through the brittle wall.

~run...runrunRUN!~

Finally, her legs got the message. She scampered through the winding tunnels, spurred by the vicious battle behind her. She came upon light sources, but their tunnels were too steep for the climbing abilities of a longneck.

~Which way did I come in?!~

The youngster rounded a corner and fell through a vertical tunnel. Landing with a thud, she was greeted by the sight of light streaming from the outside world before her.

~Yes!~

Zircon and Sslo came crashing through the ceiling in front of the exit.

Her smile fell. ~Nope ... Nope-nope-nope, so much nope.~

Sslo kicked off Zircon.

She winced at the sickening thud of his body against wall.

The runner slumped, eyes glazed, head bobbing in what seemed a dazed stupor. Her every instinct proclaimed that he was finished.

Savouring the victory, Sslo stood tall. He would be a pack hero after all.

"You sshould have sstuck to rrunning," Sslo hissed.

He threw his jaws forward.

The longneck held her breath.

Zircon's eyes came to life. He smirked.

The fast runner twisted out of the way and Sslo's jaws cracked through the wall. Still withdrawing them, Sslo felt another pair clamp around his neck. He choked.

The runner ... was biting him? His stupor was a trick? A hunting trick? This couldn't happen! Sslo, a mid rank of the finest mortal pack in The Mysterious Beyond, beaten by a NOBODY FOOD FOLK?!

Sslo thrashed, he slashed, forced gurgling roars through his stricken windpipe. The runner held fast. It was a good bite, a sleeper bite from the perfect angle, but Sslo refused to let it end like this!

With a guttural growl, he broke free.

Fast runner and fast biter fell apart, gasping to reclaim their strength.

By sheer force of will, Sslo staggered to his feet.

"YOU ..." he snarled, "don't have what it TAKESSS to be a FAST BITERR!"

Footsteps.

The longneck rammed him so hard that her neck ached. If some fast runner who wasn't even Valley Guard could stand up to these monsters, so could she!

He didn't fall. She didn't care. She'd ram him as many times as she had to!

She didn't have to.

Zircon's explosive drop kick sent Sslo hurtling through the exit. He sailed through the air until a rock graciously caught him head first. Evidently soothed by its gentle touch, he passed out peacefully.

The pair peered out at him. With a huff, the longneck turned and kicked out loose bits of mound material as though the fast biter were an filthy thing to be buried. This antic earned a stare from Zircon. She froze mid-kick and stared back.

They broke into laughter.

Once the chuckles subsided, the longneck sighed away the tension and looked him in the eye. "Thank you, for saving me."

He smiled. "You saved me as much as I saved you."

"Well, maybe not quite as much," she admitted sheepishly.

"Don't downplay yourself, Miss ...?"

"Arwin, but my friends call me 'Winnie' ... you can call me Winnie, Mister ..."

"Zircon, but my friends call me ..." his smile dropped as he remembered that he didn't have any friends. Sisters and 'sort of' friends like The Valley Guard didn't count. "... Zircon. You can call me Zircon," he repeated with a small laugh.

She giggled, taking it as a simple joke. "So, Zircon, what happened to all the runners on your tail? Did you beat them? All of them? That's so COOL!"

He scratched his crest. "... Actually, I didn't."

"... Oh?"

"I just shook them off my back a while back."

"Ohh ... so that means they're ...?"

"Still on my trail."

"... We should run?" she suggested.

"Yes, yes we should."

---

Austyrr almost spat. Flyers tasted bad. She knew that, but this flyer? How was it possible for food folk to fail the taste test so absolutely? Even the texture was wrong, and the bones? ... Austyrr shuddered.

The bones wouldn't break.

It didn't matter. It was over now. They'd even reduced her wings to ragged strips. So much for the 'abnormal' flyer.

Eta Qyvrr whined.

Austyrr chastised the younger female with a glare. It was not appropriate for a high mid rank to make that noise before subordinates, she throbbed.

Qyvrr winced at the rebuke before asking if they had to eat the flyer?

Austyrr considered that for a moment. True, she purred, it was bad to waste food, but they had more than enough. This flyer was hardly even edible. They would leave her for the crawlers.

Qyvrr bobbed her head in relief. She stared at the flyer one last time and asked why there was no bleeding.

Right. Another thing Austyrr really didn't want to think about.

The Delta replied that it did not matter. Dead was dead ... even if it looked weird. It was time to move on. Their assistance was required elsewhere.

Austyrr began to depart and her hunting party followed suit.

One down.

"Dawn ... does not break."

They froze. That ... voice ... it couldn't be ... if she was hearing things, why did the others react? Her unflappable cracked. She forced herself to turn. Her blood ran cold. The flyer ... thing, was standing, casually examining itself. Its beak cracked a smile and it cackled, sending shivers down her spine.

"Look at that! You totally ruined my wings!" Dawn laughed with poisonous pep. "Congratulations. Now I'm stuck down here ... with you."

With unearthly speed, it was upon them.

---

The omegas flamboyantly strutted around Cera's pit in unison, heads bobbing back and forth like their smaller, feathered flyer cousins. This bizarre manner of mockery might have infuriated her, but she was simply too busy attacking the walls that entrapped her.

...

Three ...

Two ...

One.

Guerra raced after the little threehorn, ravenously devouring the gap between them. The prey could hear him coming. He made no effort to conceal his heavy footfalls. Half of him insisted that wouldn't make a difference. The other half hoped it would, rendering the hunt more interesting.

It did.

At the last moment, the threehorn spun to face him with an upwards horn swing.

Guerra jumped back, narrowly avoiding a sore chin.

The kid stood his ground, horn lowered, stance firm and unflinching. He didn't paw at the dirt or brandish his horn like most of his kind, but if glares could burn, Guerra suspected he would have been reduced to ashes.

The gamma throbbed, mildly impressed.

...

Omega Jayrr crouched at the pit's edge (well, not Omega for long, if being 'The Fast Biter Who Trapped The Accursed Threehorn' was worth anything). He never imagined it would come to this, but taunting Cera was growing boring. What was the point if she was too riled up to notice his creative mockeries? He waited for her to calm down. If anything, she was growing more wild by the minute, attacking the walls of her pit as though they were the cause of all that was wrong in the world.

Jayrr felt the ground shift. He attempted to maintain his smug air of cool while stepping back as the pit's edge collapsed, completely engulfing the threehorn.

"Great! You've buried yourself alive!" he jeered. "Digging you out's gonna be a pain, and now you'll taste like dirt, just like your personality!"

His fellow omegas cackled, feeling on top of the world.

That is, until their world began to rumble.

...

Guerra stalked around the little threehorn, who made sure to never let the gamma get behind him. The fast biter snorted.

They would see about that.

He accelerated in a snap, running circles around the kid. The poor threehorn couldn't keep up ...

... so he stopped trying.

Guerra was puzzled to find the kid at his side, charging, a blink from impact. He must have predicted the precise moment when Guerra would be in front of him. What could have been a mildly painful introduction to his horn culminated in a tap.

The kid blinked in surprise as Guerra's sideways dash trotted to a stop. The gamma smiled. Even a big fast biter was too swift for such tricks, but the threehorn was welcome to test his luck. Guerra beckoned with his claw:

'Come. Show me what you got'.

The threehorn charged.

...

With a surge that shook the ground, Cera burst from her burial. She was not free, but being on top of the collapsed soil brought her closer to the surface. She continued to attack the pit.

Jayrr and his friends' snickers began to die down

...

Guerra wasn't running backwards so much as he was walking, very quickly. Even then, the peach threehorn failed to catch up, but not for lack of trying. Food folk bent over backwards to flee a fast biter, but this one was coming at him with everything he had. Maybe Guerra would expect such folly from a sheltered Great Valley denizen, but he could sense The Mysterious Beyond behind the kid's eyes. It was almost endearing. In another life, he might have taken the youngster under his wing, but The Coalescent Code was a monolithic pillar of sharptooth society.

Alas, poor food folk, but Guerra would live with himself either way.

The kid almost caught him.

Guerra back hopped onto the trunk of a fallen tree. Well, it was a hop for him. For a threehorn? It was impossible.

Panting to a stop, the youngster glowered up at the biter. The beta could almost see his thoughts hard at work. Then he did something Guerra never expected, even from a gutsy threehorn.

With a jerk of the horn, he beckoned the gamma.

"Are you sssure?" Guerra hissed.

The kid nodded.

The gamma smirked.

In a blink, he was right in front of the youngster. He kicked. The little threehorn went rolling. Already, Guerra had dashed into the path of his tumble. Another kick. The threehorn's roll reversed instantly, jarringly. Guerra raced after him, leapt over his body and rushed in from the opposite side. The threehorn spread his legs, halting the roll by flattening himself.

Guerra tripped over him.

The fast biter could scarcely stand before that horn met his chin. He reeled, or rather pretended to do so, smacking back the threehorn with his tail on the spin.

Guerra formed a new theory. He didn't know how he felt about it. The kid was preempting him with a perfect balance of instinct and intelligence.

Was he using Sharp Mind?

Maybe, but all that meant was that Guerra had to think a little harder. Not all Sharp Minds were created equally. What use was planning ahead two to three moves against an opponent who could calculate ten to fifteen?

Guerra would show him.

...

Another wall of pit collapsed. Cera fought her way to the top of it and continued to unleash her fury.

Most of the omegas were slowly backing away, but Jayrr stood his ground.

"C-cut it out!" Jayrr snapped, attempting to snarl away the quaver in his voice. "You'rrre TRRRAPPED! It's OVERR! Even if you esscaped, you'd be too tirred to do anything! The mosst you can do iss make a fool of yourrrself, so jusst- jussst keel over and acccept your fate with dignity!"

The ground fell away into a slant beneath him. He yelped, sliding down into the face of a heavily mouth breathing Cera. He knew she was panting due to the exertion. Nonetheless, his nerves could have really done without it. By far the worst part was the biggest, smuggest, goofiest grin twisting her face in maniacal glee. He was torn between wanting to claw it from her face and run to the opposite side of the valley. He picked running ... why wasn't it working? Was this what it felt like when prey froze under the terror of an advancing sharptooth? What a fascinating phenomenon. He hated it.

The Accursed Threehorn sounded to be at the edge of bubbly laughter. "You thought I had 'dignity'!"

Jayrr went flying from the pit. His companions tripped over themselves as they fled the threehorn raging out of her trap.

...

He was Guerra, proud beta of the Clever Claws until Ssavi came along. When the dust settled, he would be beta again. From superior size and speed to skill and smarts, he lacked nothing.

What could a fledgling Sharp Minder do against his greatness?

He speed blitzed the kid from all angles, never using his claws or teeth. He didn't need them. The poor threehorn could hardly even flinch before blows came again and again.

Guerra stopped.

The threehorn to slumped to the ground, muscles twitching in erratic reflexes.

Looking away, the hamma gave an offer. "As fun as this is, it's needlessly cruel. Are you ready to leave The Circle of Life?"

The battered threehorn staggered to a stand, slipped and picked himself back up. He looked the gamma dead in the eye.

"Never," the kid growled.

Footfalls thundered from the foliage and Cera burst into the open behind the kid.

He stared back, awe struck.

Guerra's feathers twitched in excitement.

Cera smiled down at the stunned kid. "This guy bothering you?"

"You're late," Guerra stated. "Let's dance!"

And so they did.

The gamma zigzagged and flanked at her leg.

A snappy stomp and he jumped back, she liked to think with just a little more respect for her boundaries.

So much for that.

He leapt at her back. She leaned in the opposite direction, narrowly missing his kick to her pressure point. The guy had barely landed before he was disrespecting her boundaries again. Pressure points were kicked in rapid succession: foreleg, hind leg. He wanted her to fall? So be it. Cera threw herself onto her side in a great roll. Guerra easily backtracked from a squishing.

Foolish move, he thought! Never forfeit footing unnecessarily!

He rushed for her eyes. She flicked her neck mid-roll. A massive horn met his chest. The big biter tumbled away as though little more than a hatchling.

The kid's eyes grew wider as he pattered the ground in a happy dance. This was his hero!

Guerra tried to flank her.

She cut him off by dislodging a small bounder from the ground and sending it his way with one, smooth sweep of the horns. She closed in. Her swiftness surprised him.

He leapt back. His tail brushed against something. He flinched. A glance revealed it to be the very tree he'd hopped atop when the youngster chased him. Guerra returned focus to the threehorn.

She was already there.

Her horns drove deep into the bark behind him, pinning him between her face and the trunk. He could not see her mouth, but he saw the smile in her eyes: eyes so close that he couldn't pass up the opportunity to strike them ... and yet ... struggle though he did, he was held fast at the worse possible angle. She knew this.

"Yeet," Cera declared.

He stopped struggling. "... Wut?"

Cera heaved the tree from the ground, whirled and hurled it into the distance, fast biter and all. She lifted her chin at the gratifying thud of a job well done.

The threehorn almost jumped at the gentle sideways headbutt that impacted her leg. It was more of a nudge, really: essential in differentiating threehorn affection from aggression. She looked down to see the kid's big, adoring eyes staring back at her, an open-beaked smile on his face.

Cera returned the smile with warmth. She'd never get tired of this.

"You're welcome."

---

Never had Winnie moved this fast in her life!

Riding atop Zircon's back, she was thrilled by the breakneck turns, leaps and darts as the world blurred by in a medley of greens. The thrill took a turn for the unpleasant when she realised just how many fast biters were on their tail.

"How are they keeping up?!" Winnie exclaimed. "You were quicker when we met!"

"I'm not used to the extra weight!" argued a panting Zircon.

"... Extra weight?" Winnie repeated in a deathly tone.

He gulped. Why did this always happen to him? He would have to word this carefully: "You don't weigh much, but you weigh something! Everyone weighs something, and any 'something' is the difference between 'fast' and 'fastest'!"

"Sorry! You're right, is there any way I can help?"

He thought for a moment. "Try keeping your neck and tail as down as you can keep them! The closer all your weight is to me, the better I can move!"

Winnie still wasn't comfortable with his choice of words, but she understood. She lowered her head. The difference was astounding. Free to run without minding her extremities, Zircon moved in new, daring ways. She forgot all the piddling little wings fear ever gave her.

This was flying.

---

Playing dead seemed to be the only option.

It helped that Delta Austyrr felt half dead to begin with. Her entire hunting party, either beaten senseless or feigning it as she did, hoping the creature would leave them be. It didn't matter what they did, how hard they bit or scratched. The flyer-thing simply wouldn't fall. Now, the ragged monster was walking among them, surveying their forms. Hideous webs of grey material had congealed above its wounds. Austyrr hoped they were scabbing while having a hunch that they were something else entirely. The flyer-thing seemed to be looking for something. What? She couldn't imagine, but some instinct beyond the edge of her consciousness knew. It curdled dread in her stomach.

The flyer-thing stopped over an unconscious Qyvrr, examined the eta and leaned towards her.

Austyrr broke the act, even if she didn't have the strength to get up.

"What arrre," the delta tempered her predatory accent. "What are you doing?"

Dawn sighed as though exhausted ... or perhaps exasperated. "Believe it or not, I am in a lot of pain right now. I wonder why that is? Hm, but more than anything, I'm hungry. See, when your body needs to do something big, like make an egg, it has to have the right stuff, so you get cravings. Right now, my body needs to heal, big time, and the right stuff for me is ... very specific."

Austyrr almost choked on the nightmarish revelation. "But ... but you're a flyer!"

Dawn looked at her, unamused. "Sweetie, you have no idea how ignorant that sounds."

The flyer-thing leaned down once again.

"STOP!" Austyrr cried.

"Why?"

"She's my little sister!"

"That's why you'd want me to stop. Why would I want to stop?"

Austyrr thought quickly and desperately. "Th-there's a river nearby, full of life! I'll tell you where-"

"Oh, but your sister's right here!" Dawn insisted with a chuckle. "Why would I crawl all the way to some river in a hostile valley where nothing's guaranteed?"

Despite the almost chipper response, Austyrr could see that Dawn was trembling. Her mind attributed it to agony, or hunger. There was definitely hunger in those eyes. Something clicked as her instincts came to a much more precise conclusion, both hopeful and harrowing. It was tremendous self-control, battling hunger for mastery of her body and winning, barely, but for how long?

"Take me!" begged the delta.

"You could resist a little. She can't resist at all."

Austyrr's voice broke. "What do you want?! You haven't done it yet, so there must be something!"

"Light."

"... What?"

"I want light, more than anything. I want you to show me that there's something more."

"... What!?"

"If you don't know, you don't know, and you're wasting my time."

Dawn returned her attention to Qyvrr.

Sensing the conversation coming to a horrific end, Austyrr strained her brain for something, anything. An answer came. It was irreconcilably foolish. Every fibre of her instincts and upbringing proclaimed it as such, but her deepest heart? ... That part of her never mattered before, but it did now.

Austyrr blurted her answer: "If, you're anything like The Valley Guard, you're brave enough to challenge The Circle of Life itself! You're strong enough to break it, and smart enough to build something better and brighter, no matter how stupid that sounds!"

Dawn stepped away from Qyvrr and released a laugh, effervescent with relief. "That was beautiful! You know what you just did? You surpassed it! How's it feel to break The Circle?"

Austyrr looked about blankly. Heart, instincts and upbringing in conflict, she had no idea how she felt about that. What she did know was that she'd be in serious trouble if the pack caught wind that a part of her meant what she said. She knew she was overjoyed that her sister was spared, but Dawn probably didn't want to hear that. So, she attempted to hold a neutral expression and said nothing.

Dawn shrugged smilingly. "Whatever. Now, about that river ..."

---

(~Arrival in 5 minutes.~)

(~RECALCULATING~)

(~Arrival in 17 minutes)

(~RECALCULATING~)

---

*Zzzzzzzzznk ... Zzzzzzzzzzzznnk ...*

A valley full of fast biters, possibly the end of the world, and yet Dawn slept like a hatchling. The babbling waters of the river and a full stomach were a big help. In any event, she would be of more use to the others in tip top shape. Not to mention her harrowing appearance might have had a negative impact on the kids, perhaps even the team. Speaking of which ...

"Water!" Zircon gasped as he dashed from the bushes.

Dawn jumped awake. "WUZZAT?!"

Zircon and Winnie startled, staring at her.

"Don't freak out!" Dawn begged. "I'm okay, I'm just-!"

"Freak out about what?" asked Zircon.

"Huh?" grunted Dawn.

She crawled to the water's edge and calmed at the sight of her reflection. "Great. I guess the healing process did some work while I was out."

Zircon examined her more thoroughly. "Um ... what happened to your wings?"

She frowned at the damaged skin. She was relatively fine, except for the wings. At least they were in somewhat better shape, and the grey webs were gone.

"When I get really beat up, my body deals with the most important parts first," Dawn explained. "Apparently the wings of a flyer do not qualify, but you should have seen them before."

"What ... did you look like before we got a look at you?" Zircon was almost afraid to ask.

"Oh, half dead ... really dead ... dead two times over, actually!" she chuckled, attempting to lighten the mood.

"And ... you healed, just like that?" Winnie slowly asked.

"Yep."

Zircon shrugged and guzzled down some water. The longneck gave him a look.

"What?" he asked.

Winnie gestured the flyer. "You believe this woman?"

"I'm standing right here!" protested Dawn.

"It's all in keeping," Zircon stated before continuing to quench his thirst.

"All in keeping with what?"

He gestured in a cavalier manner. "Stone of Cold Fire, falling stars, hole in the sky, end of the world, blah, blah, blah, that kind of thing."

Winnie blinked. "Wait, you know about the dreams?"

"I think everyone knows about the dreams, 'cause no one hasn't been having them."

Winnie wrapped her tail around herself for comfort. "I don't like this."

Zircon nodded. "It's not the most likeable thing to like, I agree."

An impatient Dawn snapped her beak, calling their attention and ending the conversation. "Since you're here, I gotta do a just a liiiiiiiittle bit of sleeping so ya mind waking me up if the fast biters find us?"

"Actually," Zircon began, "That's not a matter of 'if' so much as a matter of ..."

*Zzzzzzzzzzzzznk ...* Dawn was already out.

Zircon and Winnie's eyes were drawn far down the river as their frustrated horde of pursuers emerged. Teeth now permanently bared, they looked around, spotted the allies and began to advance.

"Aaand there we go." Zircon nudged Dawn with a paw. "Wakey wakey!"

She arose with a loud groan and glanced down the river. "Already? Fine! You guys skedaddle, I'll handle this."

"Are you well enough to fly well?" asked Zircon.

"Not really."

"How will you-?"

"Same as I always do," Dawn chuckled reluctantly as she stepped in front of them. "Stuff like this doesn't even scare me anymore."

The devastating roar of collapsing rock drew all eyes to Little Valley's entrance, or what was left of it. Colossal clouds of dust rose into the sky as the great stone faces came down. Emerging from the clouds were Ducky, Petrie, Pterano and Murfy, racing ahead of the destruction. Upon reaching a hopefully safe distance, the group stopped to catch their breath. Murfy's eyes swept across the valley. He perked up and made a proclamation for all to hear.

"Guys! I'm gonna do a thing!"

"HE'S GONNA DO A THING!" Dawn shrieked. "EVERYBODY, RUN!"

---

Wow. That was ... incredibly exhausting, but fun! Feels like the biggest battle I've ever written. How did you like it?

Believe it or not, Ω-ל̴̢̚ח̶̥͠ק ו̶̱̽ת̶̻͐'s name isn't gibberish. It's been jazzed up by the Corrupted Text Generator, but it was never English to begin with. Can you figure out what it means?

Curious about inspiration for the non sequitur of omegas strutting around a captured Cera? Search 'A flock of turkeys circling a dead cat in the middle of the road' on YouTube.

Yeah, I know dinosaurs don't say 'yeet', but they don't talk either. Nonetheless, the lore behind the leafeater language has a few twists that bring things into perspective.

Next: Murfy takes things to a new extreme, but it'll take more than an agent of chaos like him turn the tide. Will Amethyst defeat Ω-ל̴̢̚ח̶̥͠ק ו̶̱̽ת̶̻͐? Will Ducky pull through? Will everyone survive (devious chuckle)? What is Littlefoot's 'Secret Way'? Find out as the unimaginable looms ever closer on the horizon.