Land Before Time Brothers Return

Sky fire clapped violently in the dark night, illuminating the world below it. It was pretty far away to be a danger to anyone, but one could only hope that no one was struck by its terrifying fire. The approaching wind howled as it blew across the wasteland landscape, it would not be long before the sky water fell and drenched the dried world that was dying of thirst. Even its inhabitants knew with great relief that sky water meant water, something to desperately quench their dust-caked mouths and sore throats. A female longnecked dinosaur raised her head to the dark clouded sky. She would not be seeing the stars tonight, but the approaching sky water would be a wonderful welcome for her one remaining hatchling. She looked back down, checking to make sure that the egg was safe. It was and she sighed with relief. She and her mother and father – the soon-to-be grandparents – had been quite unfortunate with the brood. Originally, she had laid at least four eggs in a single nest, but almost all of them had been taken by egg stealing predators. Were it not for the timely arrival of a lone male longneck, the last one would not have made it this far. The soon-to-be mother turned her head toward the strange longneck who stood like a guardian nearby on a rocky outcrop. He hadn’t moved since his joining of the herd, only saying a few words such as saying his name was Whiplash and that he’d been searching for a herd that would accept him. They had without question after he’d saved their last egg, and now he stood nearby at the edge of the lake, his head searching left and right for any signs of danger that would dare to harm the family that had adopted him. She frowned thoughtfully, having never seen such a strange looking longneck like him before. He was quite large for his age, just barely ten cold times old, and yet still large enough to be intimidating at first glance. He had a long thin, whip-like tail that his parents had named him for and a long, thin neck. His skin was slightly paler than the raging storm clouds above them, and stoic, yet kind, yellow eyes hidden beneath high eyebrows were often sent her way to make sure everything was alright. To her surprise, he often kept turning his left cheek away until she saw a small thin scar on the side beneath his eye, it was as though he was deeply ashamed to even show it to them. Whoever Whiplash was, and whatever his past was, and despite his strange appearance, the mother longneck felt that he could be trusted to look out for her family. Taking her glance from the guardian and turning it to her single egg, she gave it an affectionate nuzzle with her snout. She could feel the tiny tremors of the new life inside, it would not be long before it would hatch and she would have her very first offspring to care for and nurture. The touching moment was short-lived when she remembered her mate, whom she recalled was out in search of a place where they could live peacefully. It had been four full Night Circles since she had last seen him and she feared the worst. An overwhelming sense of sadness crept into her heart and she wished that he was here. When the egg hatched, the family would have to move on and search for a new home themselves or risk starvation, and their son would never know the face of their father. “Why are you down, my daughter? Shouldn’t you be happy that the time is soon?” She lifted her head and saw her aged father looking at her, half submerged in the water, and a mouthful of water green food. The sudden flash of the sky fire protruded his dark and pale grey skin, his wise violet eyes soft and calm despite the sudden noise that made her flinch. “I am aware that this should be a wonderful time, father,” the mother longneck replied, and she took a mouthful herself from his generous offer. She grimaced slightly at the dull taste, but it was better than nothing. She shouldn’t turn her nose up at any offer of food, no matter how tasteless or foul it was. “But… I miss him… I miss him so much… I… I just wish he was here to see this…” As the single tear fell down her cheek, a single drop of water splashed on her snout and she flinched with surprise. Her father turned his gaze upward, a thoughtful expression appearing. “I cannot say for certain that he has perished, my daughter,” he said gently, “but he would be so proud to have had a hatchling. A clutch would have been something, yes, but a single one that survived such a world like this… they would be very special to the both of you.” She nodded in agreement, forever thankful for his encouragement. Her mate would have been thrilled if he witnessed this. She sighed softly as more sky water started to fall, falling faster and faster until the whole world was drenched to the bone. Around them, dinosaurs of many different kinds began to roar their happiness. The sky water had come at last. But, to her surprise, there was another roar, but it was different, it was… not of joy, but of alarm! It took her less than a second to realise what had just happened. Whiplash had uttered an alarming roar and she had been so caught up in her thoughts of her mate that she had taken her eyes off the egg. She turned just in time to witness an egg stealer making a grab for her egg! No! The creature snatched her egg in its sharp claws, gripping it tightly and making a mad dash for the grass, but it barely even had a chance to make away with its prize. A sudden crack and a whoosh of air breezed past the mother as an enormous thin tail cut through, flashing like the sky fire and catching the egg stealer in the chest. It screeched with pain, dropping the egg instantly, and flew through the air, smashing against a rock with a sickening crack. Whiplash was upon it before it could get up again. Never had she seen such a longneck of his size move so swiftly. He raised a single foot and crushed the egg stealer without a second thought. Utter rage pierced his brow as he kept his foot upon it, putting as much weight as he could as though he was determined to send a message to it as its life ended: you were caught, and you will never harm another hatchling again. But she had no time to comprehend the situation. “The egg!” she cried frantically. She hurried over to the river where the egg stealer had dropped the egg, only to find no sign of it. She searched desperately, trying to find her only child. Terrible questions lingered at the back of her mind: ''What if it was smashed? What if a belly dragger found it? What if that egg stealer wasn’t alone?'' All of these questions terrified her to no end, but a cry of relief turned her attention downstream of the river. “Over here!” She trotted over to her mother, who had also been searching the moment the egg had disappeared from sight. She found her standing over a waterfall downstream, it wasn’t as high as she had thought, so it was possible that the egg had drifted this way and had fallen. She, her father, and Whiplash came up alongside her mother and looked down, tears of fear and distress welled up in her eyes, only to be washed away by the sky water. At first, she thought the egg hadn’t survived, but she was proven wrong when she saw it at the bottom on a small island, cracked, but intact. She carefully made her way down to the egg, grateful that it was still alive, but a small glimmer of uncertainty still plagued her mind. Was the hatchling dead inside? She nuzzled it, hoping to find some form of life. Something wriggled against her nose and her eyes widened. The baby was alive, and it was hatching! “Mother, father, its coming!” The two elders carefully made their way down a slope that seemed to bear their weight. Whiplash followed behind the two, just as careful as them because of his large size. Together, the two grandparents stood alongside their daughter, ready to witness the birth of the next generation. A tail poked out from the top of the egg, followed by the two back feet. The mother longneck giggled as she realised that the egg had been upside down for the poor thing. It must have got a wakeup call when it fell off the waterfall, much to her amusement. The rest of the eggshell fell away, revealing a lovely brown and grey male hatchling with innocent red eyes. Tears of relief and joy came to the mother and she bent her head down to examine her son… her son, her mate’s son, her parents’ grandson… Her very special son… her… The hatchling’s eyes rested upon her and blinked innocently up at her. She pressed her snout to him, but he flinched away, possibly expecting a threat as he curled up into a ball and hiding his face. “He’s really small,” the soft voice of Whiplash commented with a hint of amusement. “I do not remember being that small.” His expression changed to a faraway look, as though he was trying to remember something. He shook his head and turned to the mother as she carefully picked her son up by the skin on his back. “I’ll… give you some space if you want,” he offered respectfully, bowing his head. The mother placed her hatchling on her back, his squeak of confusion causing her to chuckle. She turned to Whiplash as he moved away, and she shook her head. “No, stay, you saved my son’s life, Whiplash. It’s the least I can do for what you did. If you hadn’t come, I would have lost him to egg stealers.” Whiplash tilted his head, unnoticeably showing the thin scar upon his cheek, as though he was considering her offer. He looked from her, to the grandparents, to the hatchling (who stared wide-eyed up at him), and then back at her. Finally, a small smile crossed his lips and his sullen expression changed to relief. His stance relaxed and he took a step forward, lowering his head until he was looking the hatchling right in the eye. “Hello, little one,” he said kindly, “I’m Whiplash, it’s nice to finally meet you.” The mother looked up at her mother and father and they nuzzled her affectionately. Whiplash would make an excellent elder brother to the hatchling. Then, the grandmother’s eyes turned to a frown. “What are you going to name him?” she asked her daughter. She frowned. She hadn’t really thought about it, then again, her parents did name her, and Whiplash also had a name. So it would only be fitting to name her son as well. The responsibility fell on her and her alone. Her mate was not here to witness this, but… if he was out there somewhere, still alive and possibly coming home, then she’d need to name her son something that he might know… should anything happen to her. Then, she remembered something that her mate had once said long ago when they first met. “Littlefoot,” she said out loud, “that is what I will call him.” A knowing glance came between the grandparents and they bent their necks to nuzzle their now sleeping grandson. “Welcome to the family, Littlefoot,” Grandpa Longneck whispered

Five Years Later

The overbearing heat from the Bright Circle leered down upon the land, having shrivelled up the last of reachable green food that would sustain what remained of herds that stuck close to home, hoping for a sign that the sky water would come again. They all knew what would happen if they stuck close, but they denied it in the hopes that they were right and someone was wrong. In the end, it led to their downfall while those that left in the hope of finding food and water would find something at least. To stay was to die, to move was to live.

This, the small family of five longnecks knew, but it was still quite new to the youngest of the herd. Littlefoot, who had been so used to eating his fair share of food, was now starting to realise just how difficult life was. His mother wished that her son did not have to grow up under such hardships, but it was the best she could do as the largest of their herd placed a pile of bark at his feet.

Littlefoot crinkled his face in disgust at the brown sticks, but he couldn’t afford to complain when his mother, grandparents and his brother were just as hungry as he was. They were giving up every bit of food they could find to feed his still growing body. He could still recall how Whiplash had been just above his grandpa’s height, but that had all changed in the past five cold times. Now he towered over them, making Littlefoot feel insignificantly small compared to him. All he knew was that Whiplash had been part of the family since the day he was born and had accepted him as a brotherly figure.

But what good was a family if they were all going to starve just by standing here and eating the sticks of bark?

His mother seemed to read his mind, because the moment he heard his growling stomach, she lifted her head and looked around their environment. All the trees were completely barren to the point their trunks no longer had any bark. They were dead and dying, stripped of any signs of life. It was a wasteland.

His grandpa and grandma looked up too while Whiplash just seemed to chew on a mouthful of bark. Perhaps out of boredom or perhaps out of a desire to keep his mind from whatever was lingering back there? Whatever the reason, his sullen eyes continued to stare to into a void that Littlefoot could not see at all.

“There’s hardly anything left,” his grandfather commented with a gravely sigh. “We can’t keep eating like this. He needs something and so do we, especially at the rate that Whiplash is growing.”

Whiplash paused in his thoughtful chewing and eyed the elderly male longneck. “You don’t have to worry about me, Grandpa,” he said calmly with a hint of a smile. “It’s Littlefoot I’m more worried about.”

“I understand your worries, Father,” Littlefoot’s mother said softly, eyeing her son carefully. “And you’re right, we can’t keep eating like this and Littlefoot needs to eat something that will make him strong. But…” she paused, and her eyes seemed to water up, “is he old enough and strong enough to make the journey?” Her voice became even more worried as she spoke. “And what of…?”

She couldn’t bring herself to say anymore as she struggled so hard not to show her desperation for her mate. He had been gone for so long that she was beginning to lose hope that she would ever see him again. She felt something press itself into her cheek comfortingly and she caught the soft brown eyes of her mother.

“He will find us, my daughter,” she whispered kindly, and her eyes shifted over to her grandson, who continued to pick at the dull tasting bark. “But until then, we can’t say a word of this to Littlefoot. If I know your mate and he found what we left behind, he’ll catch up with us. But our priority right now is to move now while our stomachs are full. You have seen this paradise in your sleep stories, now it is time for you to guide us home.”

Whiplash nodded in agreement along with her father. “She’s right,” he replied. “If the way you described to him is true, he will find us.”

They had their goal in mind, now they just had to get to it, and it was best to move while they could. “You’re right,” she said, nodding firmly, “both of you are.”

“Which way do we need to go?” Whiplash asked.

She looked up toward the sky, where the Bright Circle was hanging and beginning to set behind the far distant mountains. She nodded in the general direction, “That way.” She started to make her way to the edge of the dead forest, her eyes squinting but focusing on the destination at hand.

Littlefoot looked up with a start when he felt something press against his back and he looked up to see Whiplash pushing him with his snout. “Where are we going?” he asked.

“To a place to call home,” Whiplash chuckled as he nudged him again and Littlefoot swatted his nose with his tail, causing him to snort in bemusement. “It’s called the Great Valley.”

“The Great Valley?” Littlefoot asked as he tailed after his mother with Whiplash walking over him, and his grandmother and grandfather walking behind. “I’ve never heard of it.”

“It’s a place where we will be safe and have lots of green food and water to drink,” Grandpa explained. “Your mother has had sleep stories of it, and we heard of it from passing herds in the past. However…”

“None of us have even seen it,” Grandma finished.

Littlefoot blinked, confused by this discussion but he continued to follow his mother. “But isn’t that just it?” he asked. “It’s just a sleep story. How does she know it’s really there?”

His mother suddenly stopped and he bumped against her leg with an ‘oof’. She turned her neck and her soft brown eyes peered into his red ones, motherly and kind. “There’s only so much I’ve seen with my eyes,” she explained, “but there are others I’ve seen with my heart.”

“But… I don’t understand,” he protested.

A soft giggle emitted from her throat and she pressed her snout to his chin. “Someday you will, my son,” she whispered. “You will.”

“Mother, what is that?”

She looked up at the sound of Whiplash’s voice and saw him gazing at something up at the treetops. She followed his eyes and saw something that made her gasp with shock. High up in the trees, dripping with water and shining with a beautiful green… was a large leaf shaped like a star in the night sky. It had been a long time since she had seen anything of that colour and her heart seemed to leap into her throat and fill her eyes with tears. Here was something that she could give to her son and give him something that he had never seen before in his life.

She reached up to try and grab it, but her neck was far too short, and she snorted with frustration. Here was something she hadn’t seen in a long time and she could not reach it! She stomped a paw and tried again but fell short. Then, to her surprise, a shadow fell over her and she saw Whiplash easily grasp the delicate green food with his teeth and plucked it off its safe branch. He inclined his eyes downward and she nodded firmly. He knew what she wanted, and he lowered his head, letting go of the sweet star and dropped it in front of his little brother.

Littlefoot stepped back cautiously, not understanding what this strange thing was. It was shaped like a star and had acted like it had fallen from the night sky itself, shining with precious water. When it settled on a rock in front of him, he peered at it carefully, eying every detail he could notice.

“What is this?” he breathed. He had never seen such a lovely shade of colour like this before. It was both strange and beautiful at the same time, shimmering in the fading light.

“That, my son,” said his mother, “is a tree star. It’s green food.”

“Green food,” Littlefoot repeated, rolling the strange word off his tongue. He inched forward and licked it. He jumped back as if he had been stung by a buzzing stinger! Never had he tasted anything like it! It tasted so incredibly sweet and bitter all at once. Here was something he had never seen nor tasted before and it almost felt like it had awakened an inner desire to consume it.

He grabbed it with his forepaws and breathed in its scent deeply. He wanted to eat it so badly, but something seemed to be holding him back, as though he did not want to remove something so special. Maybe he could decide about that later. He picked the leaf up in his mouth and tossed it onto his back.

Whiplash raised an eyebrow and so did Mother, Grandpa and Grandma. Was he not hungry? Children can be so strange. Shaking their heads, they proceeded onward, leaving the skeleton forest behind them and following the setting Bright Circle.

Then, as though he suddenly felt cold, Littlefoot looked up and noticed that Whiplash was no longer standing over him, but rather… behind Grandma. He glanced over his shoulder, only to see his brother constantly looking over his shoulder. He frowned, puzzled by his strange behaviour.

And seeing as how Whiplash was not in hearing range, Littlefoot trotted ahead until he was beneath his mother. She glanced down, sensing he had something on his mind. She waited with motherly patience, but continued walking.

“Mother?” Littlefoot finally spoke. “Where did Whiplash come from? Why is he not like us?”

The questions almost caught her off guard but she quickly composed herself, having suspected that those questions were due for an answer, but not this soon. Very gently and keeping her voice low so that only Littlefoot could hear, she explained, “It is difficult to explain, and I’m certain you have regarded Whiplash as your brother ever since you hatched.”

His nod confirmed it.

“Whiplash is not related to you or me, nor your grandparents. He came to our herd a month before you hatched. He did nothing but stand watch over us, always keeping an eye out for potential dangers. Before he came, I had more eggs. You would have had siblings, but, as it was my first clutch, I was careless in protecting the nest and lost all but you. He hardly spoke and mostly kept to himself. He still does today, but he opens a little more when you’re around and speaks more when you ask questions or play with him. I’m surprised he started calling me his mother after you hatched, but you calling him ‘brother’ has brought something out of him.”

She frowned as she regarded the Bright Circle, checking that they were still on course, then she continued.

“When he came to our nest, he hardly spoke more than a few words with his name and looking for a herd to join. We, of course, gladly welcomed his company. From that point on, he kept any egg stealers coming near the nest. Were it not for him, you… would not be here today and we would not be having this conversation right now.”

The young longneck looked downward, his focus solely on the ground, but she knew… she knew that he was deeply thinking over the discussion. Littlefoot was a deep thinker, always letting things rolling in his mind to try and understand. He was still so young, but the land around them had forced him and his family to consider things more carefully, but he was a child.

Something blocked the light above him and he found himself overshadowed by a tall figure. He looked up, expecting his mother to be there, but instead a firm snout pushed him with enough strength to knock him off his feet easily but not to cause any harm. He fell on his side and glared up at Whiplash. The large, smirking longneck bent his head down and nudged him once more, but this time…

“Hey!” Littlefoot giggled when Whiplash’s nose bumped a sensitive spot. “Quit it!”

He flicked his tail to prove a point, but it did nothing to deter Whiplash. He nudged him again and Littlefoot’s giggling only worsened the situation, resulting in him rolling on his back and Whiplash continuing his ‘assault’ on his helpless brother.

Grandma and Grandpa smiled fondly as Whiplash poked Littlefoot a few more times in the stomach, laughing until his sides ached. Finally, Whiplash pulled back and Littlefoot was able to breathe in relief, but he glared up at him in annoyance. Whiplash knew that it was all a show and he winked a yellow eye at him. Littlefoot picked himself up and shook the dirt from his back.

Suddenly, he was yanked up off the ground by his tail and he found himself dangling in mid-air, legs flailing frantically. “Whiplash!” he cried.

“Relax, little brother,” Whiplash said gently between his teeth and he carefully dropped him on his back.

This time, Littlefoot glared even harder at him. “Don’t do that!” he hissed, swatting a paw at Whiplash’s nose, but it did little to affect the larger longneck.

But as he did this, he couldn’t help but notice all the details on his face. His snout was longer, the nostrils in his forehead thinner, and his throat was seemingly thicker than he originally imagined. Not once had he remembered riding on his brother’s back, and never had he seen such a strange yellow colour in his eyes. He spotted the tinges of green on the outer yellow. But that wasn’t what drew him to Whiplash’s youthful but hardened expression, it was the barely noticeable thin scar on his left cheek. It was the first time he had seen it and he couldn’t help but wonder: what had Whiplash been through before he joined the herd?

A jolt of softness interrupted his stare and he realised that his tree star had been returned to his back.

His mother licked him gently on the head. Whiplash lowered his head slightly and she did the same, but to his unscarred cheek. “Come along,” she ordered, but there was the unmistakable hint of mirth in her tone.

With that said, the family resumed their walk for as long as the Bright Circle remained in the sky. Now that he was perched on something higher, Littlefoot finally took note of his new world. Just like in the barren forest, there was nothing but dirt, jagged rocks and an occasional ground crawler attempting to seek shelter before darkness approached. He wondered what sort of creatures came out at the time of the Great Night Circle, for he hadn’t seen anything but ground crawlers, bugs and a few flyers that ignored him when he tried to make conversation with them.

Growing bored and restless after so long, he tapped a paw on Whiplash’s thick skin and he complied by lowering his neck. Leaning backward, he slid down his neck and onto the ground, landing with a soft thud and a kick of dust. He suddenly remembered as his tree star fell off his back and he quickly caught it in his mouth, afraid that he could get dirt on something so precious.

A gurgle emitted inside, and he groaned feverishly. Whiplash chuckled and shook his head.

Then again, Littlefoot hadn’t eaten anything other than the dull tasting bark, and his tree star was looking really tempting right now. He sniffed it deeply, the beautiful aroma hitting his nostrils and making his mouth water. He prepared to take a nibble of it…

And then, he heard something.

It sounded like… someone was laughing, and it sounded… like it was a girl, only it wasn’t his mother or grandma’s giggle. They wouldn’t laugh at him like this. No, this one sounded… younger, around his age.

Glancing up, he spotted his mother, Whiplash, and his grandparents stopping to take a break from walking, snacking on the dull bark and dry grass. He flinched in disgust and stood up. He was going to investigate this strange sound. He hadn’t even played with a longneck his age, and he had no friends. In fact, he hadn’t even met anyone else outside his herd. He could go and make a friend and ask them if they wanted to travel with them to the Great Valley!

Feeling very pleased with himself, he left his tree star and tilted his head, listening to the continuing giggles of the girl. It was coming from the edge of the tree line through dense grass, taller than himself.

Checking to make sure that no one had seen him move, he lowered himself to the ground and edged through the dry grass.

Only someone had seen him sneak away and he was determined to find out what he had Pushing amongst the thick brown grass, Littlefoot struggled to contain his excitement at the possibly meeting another dinosaur, and his curiosity only grew the louder the laughter became. He was getting closer to the sound now and he pushed onward until he came to the edge of the trees. He wriggled his head through and blinked with wide eyes at the sight before him. There, laughing and giggling was a yellow female dinosaur unlike anything he had seen before. She did not have the long neck that he and his family had, but a small sharp horn between her nostrils, and a wide frill that covered the top of her head. She charged into the beak of a larger grey form of herself, only this one had a longer pair of horns on top of his eyebrows. The small female laughed as she fell flat on her back and picked herself up on all four feet. She squatted down slightly, pawing at the ground in preparation for another charge, only to stop when something caught the corner of her eye. It was a flying, blue shelled creature with six legs and a long horn on its face that Littlefoot had seen on the journey. He had tried to catch one of them before but had never succeeded. Smiling, he watched as the strange dinosaur let off a bellowing scream and chased after the bug, running until she smacked into a rock the bug had landed on, only for it to fly onto another one. She sniffed with annoyance and charged at the other rock, only for the bug to repeat the process. She bounded after it again, only for the new rock to not break from her strength. Shaking her head to clear some of the dizziness, she slowly snuck her way up toward the bug that had turned its back on her. “Hey!” Littlefoot called eagerly, hoping to get her attention, but she ignored him and prepared to take chomp out of the little critter. Only to her surprise that she found her open mouth suddenly filled with a disgusting foul taste. She spat the horrible stuff out and shook herself to clear her vision of the blue liquid the creature had sprayed her with. Then she heard the laughter and gritted her teeth, now aware of her audience, she squinted her eyes. “What are you laughing at?” she sneered. Littlefoot gasped and expected the new dinosaur to be quite mad over his laughing, only it was not of disdain or annoyance, but rather she showed some mirth and playfulness. She was pawing at the ground like before in preparation to charge. Finally, someone his age he could play with! He leapt out from behind the brown grass and copied her movement, his stance at the ready. She let off a challenging roar and charged toward him, while Littlefoot ran with just as much eagerness to play. But all of it was cut short when a deeper, louder sound of warning cut the game in half. The ground began to shake, rocks scattering beneath their feet as an enormous foot stood between them, hiding the girl dinosaur from view. Littlefoot bit back a desire to cry out for help, petrified by the larger horned dinosaur leering over him like a shadow. The three-horned dinosaur leered down on him, growling in warning. Terrified, he backed away, his legs shaking with fear. There was another bellow, but this one was less deeper and more threatening. Littlefoot had recalled in the past Whiplash bellowing a warning about a nearby threat, but this one was very different. This one was more threatening and more determined that he ever thought. The ground shook louder and all three turned their heads at the sight of the large galloping longneck. In mere seconds, Whiplash had covered the ground and placed a foot down between the adult threehorn and his little brother. Whiplash leaned his long neck down and glared venomously at the other dinosaur, his lips were pulled back to reveal his teeth, even though it didn’t appear very threatening, but the curling of his long tail and his stance signalled a warning to not try anything rash. Never had Littlefoot seen Whiplash so angry since he had known him. For a very long and intensive moment, the two large dinosaurs stared at each other while Littlefoot and the girl threehorn watched with wonder and fear. Then, the large threehorn shook his horns and rattled his frill in a threatening display, hoping to scare Whiplash away, but the large longneck did not back down and continued to make his stance, his tail raising higher as though to warn the threehorn he would strike at any moment if he chose to. He growled, only it was louder and more threatening than before. His tail lashed out, but did not strike, and a booming crack echoed through the plains. This was a final warning to not bring harm to his fellow herd member, his little brother. But the threehorn was not so easily deterred and he stepped forward, thrusting his horns forward. Again, Whiplash continued to stand his ground, his desire to protect Littlefoot was stronger than ever. However, Littlefoot felt that as long as he was between Whiplash and the threehorn, Whiplash would not budge. Finally, with his eyes still on the threehorn, Whiplash spoke, but his voice was focused and hard, “Littlefoot, get back to your mother… now!” Littlefoot blinked, surprised, but he watched as the male threehorn kept his eyes on Whiplash but was speaking from the corner of his mouth, dust puffing out from his nostrils as he snorted, “Cera, return to your mother. Threehorns never play with Longnecks. Let that be a lesson for you today.” “Hmph!” Cera huffed and she spat her tongue at Littlefoot, only for it to be cut short when Whiplash growled even louder with warning. She jumped and ran back to her waiting mother, while Littlefoot carefully backed away, but he didn’t back up fast enough as something strong yanked him up by the tail and into the air. To his surprise, it was Whiplash who had him, but his eyes were still focused on the threehorn. Slowly, Whiplash began to step back, and his eyes silently communicated to the threehorn to not do anything irrational. The threehorn seemed to be doing the same thing, and a mutual understanding came between the two large dinosaurs. They were only protecting their loved ones from the harshness of the world, and if it had to involve a fight between another leaf eater, then it would. They simply nodded at each other and Whiplash turned away to make his way back to the worried family that was waiting for them. “Hey, Whiplash, what’s a longneck, and what is a threehorn?” Littlefoot suddenly asked, jolting Whiplash from his thoughts. Whiplash sighed. “It’s what me, you, your mother and your grandparents are, Littlefoot,” he explained softly, though his voice was not very gentle. “We are the longnecks. The threehorns are what those dinosaurs you encountered are.” Quite roughly, he dropped Littlefoot on his mother’s back where his tree star was waiting for him. “What happened out there?” Littlefoot’s mother demanded once they were safely back near the trees. His grandparents came over too, just as worried as their daughter. “You aren’t hurt, are you?” “No, no, I’m fine!” Littlefoot protested as his grandmother gave him a quick lick on the cheek. A snort caught his ear and he saw Whiplash glaring down at him with disappointment in his eyes. He slumped dejectedly, he knew what was coming. “Littlefoot was attempting to play with a child threehorn,” Whiplash explained. “Her father jumped in to prevent them from playing, so I too stepped in to make sure that Littlefoot was not going to be harmed by him. Of course, we were both trying to protect our little ones, so we supposedly came to an understanding. No one was hurt.” That was the first time Littlefoot had heard Whiplash speak so much. It was not often that he spoke, but when he did it was usually pretty serious, and this was quite serious. He hung his head down as his mother scorned him for wandering off and leaving the protection of the herd. He understood her worry, and that he could have gotten hurt and she would not have been there to protect him. Thank the stars Whiplash had been watching him when he had ran off to follow the noise. “But mother,” Littlefoot said suddenly, getting her attention, “I just wanted someone my age to play with. Why couldn’t it be Cera?” His mother looked at his grandparents and then at Whiplash, and she sighed softly. “We must keep to our own kinds,” she explained. “It’s always been that way since I was a hatchling.” “You mean even you don’t know and yet you keep away from others that aren’t longnecks?” Littlefoot asked, sounding horrified. She was silent, but his grandfather lowered his neck slightly until he was at eye level with his grandson. “It has always been that way, little one, even when me and your grandma were really small,” he told him. “But now is not the time to dwell on what has been known for generations.” His mother and Whiplash nodded in agreement, and they resumed their journey. As punishment for his misbehaviour, Littlefoot was to ride on his mother’s back for the rest of the day and tomorrow. He could not help but feel he didn’t deserve such a punishment for wanting to play with someone. There wasn’t anyone in his herd nor his own kind around, and it would be a long time before they even saw another longneck, let alone the Great Valley. His mother reassured him that when they reached their destination, there would be many of kind his age to play with, for now, he would have to settle with now. The Bright Circle eventually began to dip behind the mountains ahead of them, letting the cloak of darkness envelop them and allowing the Night Circle to take its place. The small herd came to a set of old trees near a bubbling pool of water, and they settled down for the night. Littlefoot was very grateful for a chance to stop and rest, and his mother allowed him to return to the ground to stretch his legs and shake whatever was troubling his youthful energy. Despite the time to rest and drink, Littlefoot still felt some intensity coming from Whiplash. Then again, he had been moments away from striking out at Cera’s father and possibly causing a future blood feud between the two families. It was great that no one had been hurt, but it still left Littlefoot feeling puzzled by Whiplash’s unusual behaviour, it was though he hardly knew him at all. As the family settled down to sleep, with his mother and grandparents leaning against the trees for some form of support, Whiplash did not join them like he usually did every night. Instead, he moved a short distance from them and curled up in the open plains with his back turned to them, the Night Circle seemed to cast a silver glow on his greyish brown body, making him appear like a boulder if a passing predator had bad eyesight. Worry gripped Littlefoot’s heart, but he stayed where he was on his mother’s back until she fell asleep. Slowly, he picked himself up and slid down her tail, hoping that she would not notice. He quietly tiptoed over to Whiplash’s supposedly sleeping form. He peeked over his neck, but was startled to see him still awake, but his eyes were focused on the Night Circle itself. But what made it even stranger was the sad far away look in his usually stoic yellow eyes. Unfortunately, it wasn’t what else that caught his attention, but rather the wet streaks that were left at the corner of his eyes. Whiplash had been crying. But before Littlefoot could point this out and ask what was troubling him, Whiplash immediately spotted him and used a forepaw to wipe away the wetness. Gone was the saddening emotion, replaced by his usual calm and stoic demeaner. “Littlefoot,” he gasped through a huff to try and hide a choking sound at the back of his throat, “shouldn’t you be asleep with your mother?” Littlefoot paused for a moment, wondering if he should speak about what he saw, but thought against it and replied, “I was just worried about you. I couldn’t sleep after what happened today, so…” Carefully he climbed over Whiplash’s forelegs and underneath his neck. “I thought I’d sleep here tonight, to make sure you were okay.” Something flashed across Whiplash’s face, but it was gone before he acknowledged it, but he was pretty sure it was surprise. The elder longneck didn’t reply to his request, but Littlefoot took it as an invitation to curl up into a ball. Whiplash watched hesitantly, but he didn’t protest nor push Littlefoot away, but eventually he slowly lowered his neck and curled his tail around to provide some warmth and comfort to them both, and also to shield Littlefoot from a potential predator’s sights. Slowly, he began to drift off to sleep, but the feeling of movement awakened his senses and he slowly lifted his head to see Littlefoot chasing after a hopper. Once again, fear and concern for the well being of his little brother forced him up on his feet. He thought for a moment to wake up the family, but he shook his head. He recalled how angry Littlefoot’s mother had been and he didn’t want his little brother to get into serious trouble again. Perhaps he could find him and bring him back before the others knew of their absence. Shaking his head, he silently followed after Littlefoot towards the dead trees and bubbling waterhole to make sure that he didn’t get hurt. -

Stomping through the darkness of the night, a large dark green and black carnivorous dinosaur sniffed the air with anticipation and hunger. For several days and nights, he had been following a small herd of longnecks, hoping for a chance to prey on at least one of them. But the largest member of the family had forced him to keep a relatively safe distance. Ever since he had smelt them, his stomach had grown emptier and he was determined to fill it up with a bellyful of longneck flesh. Unfortunately, he hadn’t exactly been able to see them with his sharp red eyes and lay out a cunning plan to ambush.

As far as Sharptooth was aware, the small herd seemed to be constantly on the move, looking for that green stuff they ate? Whatever the reason was, he was becoming more and more hungrier by the day. If he did not eat soon, he would surely starve to death and his quest to hunt would have all been for nothing. But as he kept on with his pursuit, the moment of truth eventually presented itself to him.

His keen sense of smell had picked up the hatchling moving away from the safety of the herd, following by what appeared to be a threehorn hatchling as well. It was not what he was expecting, but it was no matter. Meat was meat, and he could not pass up an opportunity like this. With his tongue snaking out to lick his teeth in preparation for the hunt, Sharptooth began to silently make his way over to the swamp where he knew the hatchlings would be playing.

Very soon he would be feasting upon their flesh and he would have a full stomach by the time the Bright Circle rose in the sky.