A young sabre stared out at the ocean, the water black and ominous in the dark of night and his expression sorrowful. He had stood like this for some time, silent and brooding before he was approached by another.
"They're okay." Ellie's voice was soft as were her steps as she was careful not to startle the predator. She settled beside him, looking out at the horizon as she prayed that her hope wasn't misplaced and that her herd was safe—that her family was safe. "They have to be."
"What if they're not, Auntie? What if there's not even a trace of them to come back to us and we're wasting time hoping when really, we're meant to be grieving?" Percy didn't turn to look at her, almost stubbornly keeping his eyes on the ocean as his voice wavered in his melancholic anger.
Ellie frowned, giving the sabre a side glance. "A little morbid, kid but if we gave up hope in the face of every bad thing then we wouldn't be in very good positions. We'd lost hope once before you were with us. . . during that flood when we thought we lost Akira. Did we ever tell you about that?"
As expected, Percy shook his head because even though he could recall remnants of the memories of when Akira found him, wounded and limping from injuries that took slow, meticulous months to heal, there'd never been a backstory given and he hadn't asked—not when no one ever mentioned it. The sabre had refrained, not only because of that, but also because of the guilt that arose any time he recalled those long months. Akira had been miserable, even though she tried to hide it, and Percy had blamed himself for some time. It had taken so long for her to get back to full health because her injuries had been strained when she'd saved him—as far as he was concerned, her misery had been his fault and on particularly bad days, Percy still blamed himself.
"Well," Ellie began, thinking back to that adventure that had happened decades ago. It had been so fun, eye-opening and all-around terrifying and sorrowful before it picked up on a higher note as it came to an end. "It happened around the time we'd just met. . . Manny and I had had a misunderstanding and boy, we were so stubborn—I was so stubborn." Remembering that day like it was yesterday, Ellie could only look back and laugh at how ridiculous her anger had been and the way Manny had tried to express his feelings. "Akira had been injured earlier that day but I still pushed them to travel through the night and I. . . I should've been more mindful but I wasn't. I was young and dumb and it nearly cost Akira her life.
"We got stuck on this. . . tower of rocks, tilting this way and that while we tried to survive. Everyone needed Manny and me to work together but we wouldn't—not at first, anyway, but by the time we decided to. . . it was too late. Akira had been so weakened from travelling and she didn't have the energy to cross safely. What she had left, she used to save my brothers. Seconds later, the tower collapsed and then. . . she—she was gone." Even now, it still hurt to think about. If they had lost her. . .
Just as Percy had his bad days, Ellie did too. Sometimes the mammoth would look at the sabress and see her as she had been on that teetering ledge, that resigned look on her face and the slumped posture of her body. Her gaze stayed fixed on the horizon but Percy had finally torn his away to look at her, eyes wide. "How. . . h-how far did she fall?"
Ellie couldn't meet his gaze and supposed she wouldn't be able to until she had a few moments to gather herself. The painful recount brought tears to her eyes. "As we struggled to get back on stable ground, we never heard the rocks when they hit the ground—it was too far down." Percy's small gasp was muffled to her ears as she recalled the noise of rock grinding and the screams of her brothers and of Sid and the panicked pleas of Diego and Akira. "We grieved because there was no way she could have survived but. . . she did, Perce. We didn't have hope, we thought she was gone, but she came back to us. If she never did. . . I don't think we'd all be where we are right now.
"Manny, Crash, Eddie and I probably would have left Sid and Diego. None of us had known her long but travelling together after what happened didn't feel right. Not when the loss was so fresh in our minds and we were blaming ourselves or each other. And if we hadn't split up then, when Sid got taken to the Lost World? He probably wouldn't have survived without her. And there's Diego. . . he would've left eventually to start his own family and have his own pack of sabres as much as we all cared for each other. It would've just been my brothers, Manny, Peaches and I and that wouldn't be anything close to the herd we've grown to love."
Percy had shifted to sit back on his haunches, tensed but his pale eyes understanding. "Akira. She's our hope. Most of us wouldn't be here if it wasn't for her. She saved a lot of us because—" Ellie smiled, "she was hopeful that everything would look up, one way or another. No matter what has happened, we've overcome it because of hope, and faith and a whole lot of luck. This will be no different, Percy. It seems impossible now but so was that flood, so was Akira's survival and I mean, come on, a world full of living fossils was the cherry on top and yet. . ."
Some tension left the sabre's body, "we survived it all."
"That we did." The mammoth said, her smile less weighed by guilt and sorrow, lightening further as Percy leaned into her side. Her expression grew fond as she reached over with her trunk and ruffled the thick coating of fur around his ears. Her smile widened as another memory, this time more pleasant, popped into her head. "Gosh, I remember when Akira first brought you to us. You were such a tiny, little thing then. So shy but so sweet—had my heart immediately."
The young sabre relaxed more, his heavy expression overtaken by bashfulness as he leaned further into her. "Thank you, Auntie."
The mammoth led the sabre away from the edge, steering him to the standing tree where their family was fast asleep. The other animals they travelled with were scattered around them, some dozing, some awake, and some completely knocked out. "Of course, honey." Ellie settled down by Peaches and huffed fondly as Percy only buried into her side when given the chance.
She pulled him close, needing the reassurance just as much as he did and her heart only warmed as Peaches shuffled closer—on the ground for once—and her brothers snored away as did a mound in the ground that was Louis. It didn't take long for Percy to follow the others but Ellie stayed awake a little longer, looking out at the ocean. Somewhere out there was the other half of her family. "Please," she whispered, "all of you just. . . come home."
"Hey!" Sid jumped as an oversized clam was shoved in his face, the sloth bewildered for a moment where and how the mammal offering it had even acquired it. They were in the middle of the ocean, six of them to a small but thick sheet of ice. The sloths were forced to the edge, sitting there with their feet dangling, claws grazing the water with every rocking drift. "Chew this sandwich for me."
Sid heaved a sigh as he absent-mindedly took the clam from his grandmother, trying half-heartedly to stick his claws in the crevice of its mouth and pulled it open. "Do you think Kira's okay, Granny?" Glancing over at the elder sloth, he watched her shrug bony shoulders. "Eh, she's probably with Precious." Sid's sigh shook his body as he found himself disappointed in Granny's answer, focusing his attention on prying open the clam.
Really, he should have just told the sloth that whatever was inside wasn't edible and thrown it away. Maybe then he wouldn't have gotten it open and glimpsed the scrawny sabertoothed squirrel inside. And if he hadn't, then Granny wouldn't have initiated a panic while trying to beat the life out of the creature, Sid getting caught in the crossfire and, in the end, knocking off a valuable chunk of their float and making the already cramped space smaller.
Sid barely exhaled when he was thwacked on the back of the head by Granny's cane, "Screw up." He grumbled, tossing the now-empty clam away as he rubbed the back of his head, huffing as Manny nudged him in annoyance. "Ugh, Sid. We'll never make it to the cove on this thing—we'll need something bigger." The mammoth muttered. Individually, everyone glanced at him, although, one particular mammal was glaring.
"Maybe you should've thought of that before you capsized our berg, genius." Shira snarled.
Diego growled under his breath but Jace was the one to reply. "Maybe Gutt shouldn't have threatened Akira's life," Manny mumbled in agreement and Sid piped up too. "Yeah, she has the babies—I don't know Gutt but I don't know how you could still follow him. He's worse than Rudy."
Shira didn't know who Rudy was but given the looks exchanged between the mammals that did know and the collective, silent agreement, she assumed such was true to some extent. Personally, however, she wasn't sure there was much worse than Gutt in the world because she had seen firsthand what he could do. Shira's loyalty was not willing and not void of fear. She was a survivor and by Gutt's side, she was able to do just that. With him and his crew, they were the bigger fish that always came by and never had they run into one bigger than them. Never.
So this mismatched group of mammals stood zero chance in her eyes. Even with Jace suddenly on their side—as advantageous as that was. Gutt wasn't afraid to fight dirty and would do exactly that without hesitation where half of these mammals were chasing their tails—especially the two sloths.
"There's nothing left for you with him, Shira." The sabress wanted to scoff at the nerve Jace had to say that. If there was nothing, it was his fault. Everything had been fine until he'd decided to throw it all away for a sabress he'd only known for a few minutes, separated from for decades. The crew should've been his family, they should've been his priority, not her. "Don't try defending him—" Shira had been about to just that but Jace continued, "He left us both here to drown, he didn't even bother looking for you, Shira. I watched him look at you and go the other way as you struggled to stay afloat. Gutt didn't give you a second thought and if it wasn't for me, that would've killed you."
The sabress clenched her jaw, turning away from the sabre as best as she could. "You should've let me drown."
It was a better fate than facing her mistakes and choosing the best path. Logically, she owed her life to Jace as much as she owed it to Gutt but the latter had left her for dead. He had looked at her and decided she wasn't worth it and where she had chosen Gutt over Jace, Gutt had failed to return the favour and Jace had saved her despite that. He'd gone ahead and become the bigger sabre while Shira hid behind her fear. The situation now called for action she couldn't issue—not when she didn't know the outcome.
Who would survive. . . who would win and lose was a mystery. If it was Gutt, she could easily side with him because survival was how one lived the longest but then Jace would probably be dead—they all would be—and Shira would still be stuck in Gutt's crew, now with the knowledge that several lines had been crossed and that he would readily abandon her at any given moment. And she'd have no one to turn to, to save her even if she didn't deserve their kindness. If it was the mammoth and his. . . herd, Jace now seemingly included, Shira would have nowhere to go. She'd be lost and alone like she was all those years ago when Gutt had found her. It seemed like a bit of a lose-lose either way as she'd be losing any remnants of her current life just as she had decades before.
Silence prevailed in wake of her comment and Shira shut her eyes against the pitying looks she could feel alongside the venomous glare of the sabress' mate. Shira tried her best to ignore the small pinpricks the staring issued on her skin, barely refraining from digging her claws into the ice at the frustration that she couldn't quite manage when the mammoth's voice boomed, jarring in the stretched silence.
"Land!"