Author's Notes: Hi, readers. Here is chapter four of "Sweet Memory." This chapter features an appearance by Rooter. I am not sure when Cera and Petrie will meet up with others. It remains to be seen. Stay tuned for chapter five.

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Chapter 4: Shadows of Kindness

The late morning sun beat down on another part of the barren landscape. Cera walked at a slow yet steady pace. Her small hooves thudded against the dirt, small puffs of it going up occasionally. Her frill tilted slightly against the dry breeze. Petrie clung to her back, his tiny claws gripping the edges of her frill. Her wings twitched nervously every so often. The silence was broken only by the occasional rustle of dust or the distant cry of some unseen creature. Her gaze drifted across the lifeless terrain. She furrowed her brow.

"This land… it just died," Cera muttered, her voice mixed with frustration and disbelief. "No warning, no nothing. One day, there was green food everywhere. The next day, it was gone."

Petrie nodded, his head bobbing as he peered over his friend's frill. He tightened his grip on it somewhat.

"Mama say same thing. She talk about Great Valley all time. She say it still green, still alive. We going there before…" Petrie said, ducking lower. He emitted a heavy sigh. "My brothers and sisters pick on me because me no fly. Say me no good flier. Me just… just clumsy."

"That's horrible," Cera responded softly yet firmly. "They shouldn't have done that."

Petrie shrugged, his wings drooping. "Me used to it. But it still hurt."

Cera sighed in a sad way and pressed her lips together. She kicked a small pebble, watching it skitter across the ground.

"I wasn't nice to someone either," Cera admitted in a slow and reluctant way. "Littlefoot was a longneck I met before the Great Earthshake. Daddy always said three-horns didn't play with longnecks, but I did, anyway. We were in a swamp. We were chasing hoppers and laughing… until Sharptooth showed up."

"Sharptooth!" Petrie screeched fearfully. He dove into her frill, trembling so hard his claws scratched her scales. "No, no, no!"

"Calm down, Petrie! There's no need to be afraid. Sharptooth's far behind us now—way back there," Cera said, stopping as she jerked her head vaguely toward the horizon.

"Just name give me creeps," Petrie whimpered, his teeth chattering faintly. He peered out as his body shook badly. "Big teeth, big roar—ugh!"

"Just about anything gives you the creeps, doesn't it?" Cera teased as she resumed walking.

"Very much so," Petrie admitted with a nervous chuckle. "Being with you keep me safe."

"There is safety in numbers," Cera commented and cleared her throat. "If I was with my sisters, we could scare off mean dinosaurs."

"Perhaps," Petrie murmured.

Cera froze in place as her eyes locked onto a sight ahead. It was three familiar figures roughhousing in the dust. Their gray-brown hides and stubby horns were unmistakable. The three young three-horns who'd tormented her the day before laughed and shoved each other. Their voices carried faintly on the wind. She felt her breath catch. A soft whimper came from her as she backed away with her tail tucked low. Petrie tilted his head, looking confused.

"What wrong, Cera?" Petrie asked, his voice laced with concern as he leaned forward to follow her gaze.

"Nothing," Cera muttered quickly. She turned sharply to walk in the opposite direction. "It's nothing."

Cera felt her heart pound against her chest. Her frill flattened against her neck. Unfortunately, it was too late as the trio had spotted her.

"Hey, look!" the oldest called mockingly as he strutted toward her with his brothers right behind him. "It is the orphan girl!"

The trio circled her and Petrie, their eyes glinting with cruel amusement. They formed big smirks on their faces. The oldest laughed harshly and pointed a hoof at Petrie.

"What's this? You've got a flier with you now? Did your longneck friend ditch you already?" the first brother asked.

The second oldest grinned wickedly and leaned close to blow a sharp gust of air at Petrie. The little flier yelped as the force knocked him off Cera's back. This sent him tumbling to the ground with a thud.

"Can't even fly!" the second brother sneered while stomping a foot for emphasis. "What a loser!"

"Leave him alone!" Cera snapped, stepping protectively over Petrie as he scrambled to his feet. His wings flapped uselessly. "I mean it."

"Oh, look at her defending a flier!" the third brother taunted, circling closer. "What's wrong with you, huh? Three-horns don't hang out with weirdos like that!"

"Yeah, where's your precious herd now?" the first brother added, lowering his head as if to charge. "Oh, right—you don't have one!"

The brothers closed in, their sneers widening and their hooves pawing the ground menacingly. Cera braced herself, her small frame tensing. Suddenly a sharp whistle cut through the air, startling them all. From behind a nearby rock shuffled a squat, mole-like dinosaur. His leathery skin was wrinkled, and his movements were slow but deliberate. He narrowed his eyes at the trio.

"Leave the little ones alone, you brats," the dinosaur demanded.

"Who're you, old fart? You can't even move without creaking!" the oldest leered.

The dinosaur snorted and raised his thick tail, revealing a heavy, club-like end that gleamed with age-worn scars. He emitted a loud and determined snort.

"Name's Old Rooter," the dinosaur said, his voice being dry but firm. "I may be old, but this tail can still pack a punch. So, which one of you punks wants to go first?"

The brothers' bravado crumbled in an instant. The oldest's eyes widened to the size of saucers. He stumbled backward, his brothers bumping into him in their haste.

"Run!" the youngest squealed, his voice becoming high and girlish.

The trio bolted, screaming as they fled across the dusty plain. Their tails flailed behind them. Cera watched them go, her tension melting into a triumphant laugh.

"Keep running, you babies!" Cera yelled in defiance. "Don't come around here again!"

Cera shook her head as their figures shrank into the distance. Old Rooter shuffled closer, his clubbed tail lowering with a soft thud.

"You all right, kid?" Rooter asked, his gruff voice softening as he looked her over.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Cera said, glancing upward. "Really."

Petrie clambered back onto Cera's frill, his small claws scrabbling for a hold. She looked downward, and a sniffle escaped her as she began shaking badly. Rooter tilted his head, showing concern.

"What's wrong, huh? You're shaking like a leaf," Rooter said.

"Nothing," Cera mumbled stubbornly while shaking her head.

"It's okay to say," Rooter said gently while settling onto his haunches with a groan. "I'll listen. Your little friend here will, too."

"Me listen, Cera," Petrie said, nodding eagerly.

Cera sighed and stared at the ground. She decided it wasn't worth keeping what happened to her yesterday from Rooter and Petrie. She made eye contact with the former.

"Those three… they and their parents humiliated me yesterday," Cera admitted, her voice low and raw. "I asked to join their herd, and they laughed at me. They called me a pathetic orphan and kicked dirt in my face. They spat on me. I never thought my own kind would do that."

Rooter's expression softened, though his gruff edge remained. Cera choked back a sob, her body continuing to shake.

"I see," Rooter said, nodding slowly. "Listen, kid. It ain't your fault. Some of your kind will be mean and spiteful, but don't hold it against them all or against other kinds of dinosaurs, neither. Some folks never see past their own noses, but what matters is what's in here." He tapped his chest with a hoof. "You've got a good heart, even if you don't wanna admit it. You showed it by taking this little one along."

Rooter jerked his head toward Petrie, who chirped in agreement. Petrie emitted a soft chuckle as he gripped the girl's frill.

"Me think so too!" Petrie said. "You good, Cera."

Cera's throat tightened, and she felt a tear slip free in which it dropped onto the dry earth with a tiny puff of dust. She rubbed her snout with a paw. Her body didn't shake as much as before.

"My tummy hurts," Cera whispered.

"That'll pass, kid. Give it time," Rooter said gently. He heaved himself up and started to walk away. His clubbed tail dragged a faint line in the dirt. "Take care, you two."

Cera watched Rooter go. The shaking had stopped completely. Petrie shifted on her back. He let out a soft whistle and gripped her frill. He blinked three times before yawning.

"You okay, Cera?" Petrie wondered curiously.

"I'll be okay… eventually," Cera said in a steady way. She started walking again. She looked at him. "What about you? Are okay?"

"Yeah," Petrie said. He tilted his head, gazing out at the barren land. "We find Littlefoot and his mother, maybe?"

"I'm not sure, but I hope so. I bet they will let us travel with them," Cera said, coming to a stop. She glanced around at the empty landscape, her stomach growling faintly. "We need to look for some green food, though. This place is dead."

Petrie nodded, scanning the horizon. "Me help look! We find food and friends. Great Valley got both, right?"

"Yeah," Cera agreed, a smile crossing her lips. "Lots of both."

"I bet I will eat more green food than you will," Petrie teased with a laugh.

"No way. I will," Cera said, smiling warmly.

"Unh-unh," Petrie said, shaking his head.

Cera nodded. "Uh-huh."

Cera picked up her pace a little bit. Petrie bounced on her back, though he hung on tight. Two dragonflies flew behind them, but they didn't notice them.