Nostalgia in the Great Valley pt. 2
This is the second portion of the series 'Nostalgia in the Great Valley'. The first draft of story one was written in the span of approx. two hours and was really nothing more that a spout of temporary insanity. I was at first embarassed by what I had written (I've always been a bit of a prude), but I've grown fond of it and thought it was time for the sequal.
In many ways I like this chapter more than the first, though it contains no sex. It is about 'the morning after' which those among you with such experiance may recall with dread.
One final note: these stories are being written as if the events of movies 2-10 in the animated 'Land Before Time' series never took place. I was rather dissapointed with the direction the took after the first and choose not to include them in my version of their history.
Anyway, here it is. Enjoy.
The sun was gleaming through his eyelids. Blinking awake, Littlefoot sat up and looked around him. Even as he did, the last rays of the westerning sun sank behind the sheltering mountains and filled all the valley with a cool grey shadow.
They still lay upon the grassy hill that was their ?secret-spot', high above the darkling jungle below. It lay near the foot of one of the mountain spurs that came bending around to shelter the northern cap of the valley and in the bright sun they could see almost the entire length of the river as it ran it's course from high in the snowy slopes above them into the lands beyond the valley. But in the settling dark he could only see dark shades of green and blue in shadow below.
Standing up, he yawned. He was stiff and sore and there was a strange ache in his stomach area. He stretched his aching limbs and shook his head, clearing away the cobwebs.
The setting sun was visible only as a fading light in the West. The darkening of the Eastern sky followed close behind and all seemed silent.
Littlefoot looked out from were he stood, down into the valley were he could just make out the small forms of the different herds moving to and fro in the fading light; getting one last feed in while there was still day-light left to see by.
Looking down, he could almost remember the first time he had stood on this hill; looking down to his friends as they ran up next to him. Cera had actually spotted it first, but Littlefoot was the faster runner. Looking down, they all agreed it was a great view and a beautiful area. The decision to make it their ?secret-place' was quickly accepted. Ducky chirped in with a chorus of "Oh yes, I think we should...this is a great spot. Great, great, great!"
A smile crossed Littlefoot's face at the memory of Ducky's voice. Fond memories of days past by with his friends always made him smile; but they also made him sad. They were all gone now. Gone away to places of their own. All except Cera.
He turned to see Cera laying near at hand, just as she had when she had first fallen to sleep. Littlefoot was unexpectedly struck by just how peaceful and contented she looked laying there, and how beautiful she was. As he watched, a gentle breeze came down and washed away the soft sounds of her restful breath into the rustling leaves as her chest rose and fell softly. She was beautiful.
Littelfoot's heart rose in his chest to see her so peaceful. The only evidence of their actions earlier that day were a slight bit of moisture glistening on her slightly-exposed slit and a bit of dried crust underneath. The swelling was gone and the pink colour had subsided. And yet she had a glow about her that made him feel great joy to see, and for a moment he was proud.
Yet the memory of what they had done came back to him strongly and he suddenly was doubtful and troubled and his spirit sagged.
As if knowing she was being watched, Cera stirred in her sleep and looked around groggily. Her eyes met with Littlefoot's, who was standing near her, and for a long while all they did was stare, and the eons seemed to pass between them before a rouge ray of the setting sun, finding it's way through some open crack in the mountain wall, glinted off of a pool in the valley and they were distracted and looked away.
Littlefoot turned to look back out over the valley. The little forms bellow were still going about their business, oblivious to what had gone on in the grassy hills above them.
"We've slept the day away." Cera said as she looked into the valley from where she lay.
"Yeah." Littlefoot replied. "I hope no one is worrying about us. We've been gone a long time."
Inside, Littlefoot was not that worried about being missed. The others bellow were accustomed to him and his friends scampering off for a day or two on some adventure only to return a while later with some grand story to tell about what they had found or who they had talked to. The adults would chastise them for being out so late but would secretly smile to themselves and remember when they had done just the same. Besides, they were becoming adults now. They had the right to choose where they went or what they did. So long as it did not dissrupt the herd.
No, being out late didn't worry Littlefoot. He was simply saddened to see the day end without having a chance to enjoy it. His grandfather told him once that every sunrise brings a new day and a new start to all things. New adventures and new opportunities; he should cherish each day and live it to it's fullest, for once a day was gone- it would never come back.
?And one day you may miss that day.' He would say.
As the seasons wore on, he felt that more and more. He still had all the vigor of a growing adolescent, but he missed his childhood all the more. As a child, everything is new and fresh and every step was a trek to a foreign land, every stranger an exciting new personality. That's how he had met his friends. And it was those childhood days that they lived in still. But only in memory.
He did cherish the days. It seemed that the older he got, the more the days bled together and the past slips farther and farther behind. That's why he was sad to see the day go. It felt like a tragedy that he should see a morning so fair and beautiful only to fall asleep and wake up only to see its end.
"I guess we should be getting back huh?" Cera said, still laying on the grass. Her voice was low and she sounded like one dreading some punishment.
"Yeah." said Littlefoot snapping out of his mental wandering. "I guess we should." He said no more, suddenly at a loss for words.
Cera stood slowly and arched her back. Her back legs were held out stiff and wide. Her eyes squeezed shut and she streched, seeming as sore as he had been. Her tail was arched high above her back and seemed to twitch upwards involenteraly. As she turned away from him he caught a brief glimpse of the after affects of their mating on her little slit and he was suddenly ashamed and turned away.
She walked a few steps down the back of the hill and emptied her water by a tree. Littlefoot looked back down the darkening valley and had the brief wonder as to what that water would be like after...what had happened. Apperantly Cera wondered the same since she took a bit longer coming back then normal, but if she saw anything new or unusual there was no change in her face or manner.
She came and sat near to him silently and they both looked down into the valley. They felt a strange reluctance and it was only after a long while of staring into the growing dark that Littlefoot stirred. He looked over to Cera and their eyes came together for a split second, but they could not bear more than that quick glimpse, and they were afraid to see what lay behind those eyes and with a slow, almost unwilling pace, they began to move down into the shady dusk of the valley.
Nothing stirred in the plains below the hilltop and everything seemed silent and watchful. They felt as though they were marching along an avenue of silent, invisible watchers towards some unknown doom that awaited them just beyond the rustling grasses.
They could hear the herds long before they could see them in the fading light. The stomp of feet and the murmur of voices drifted up on a noiseless wind that they could not feel.
As they came nearer to the main part of the valley, all the herds were beginning to settle down to pass the cool night away in restful sleep. Cera and Littlefoot did not stop, but found themselves steering away from the other Dinosaurs and walking across the narrow part of the valley. The other Dinosaurs seemed to take no notice of them, but the few casual glances and silent looks of those that turned twards them, felt like accusing stares and they walked past them without looking up, their heads hung low.
They waded through the shallow part of the river with little difficulty, but the swift current pulled at their legs, slowing them down further and the cold water bit at their feet like nettles.
Still walking silently and not speaking, they traversed the whole far side of the river till they came to the rocky outcroppings that jutted out from the hills around the western edge of the valley. They began to climb up the rocks as best they could in the dark and still said nor looked at one another. They felt hunted and outcast, like criminals or Egg-Crushers.
They kept climbing until the light failed completely and they had trouble seeing what was under their feet. They finally settled down wearily on a shelf of rock which looked out at the naked face of the western hills and they huddled against the bare rock to avoid the cold wind which whipped through the rocky crags at times.
Littlefoot looked back over the edge of the shelf into the valley bellow, but the grey dusk had long since deepened to full night and the valley was a dark void with the only light coming from the dim reflection of stars in the still waters below.
Despite the climb, neither was tired, and they just kept staring off into the dark void bellow them and the pervasive gloom sank into their hearts until finally, they fell into dark dreams under the mountain.
...
Littlefoot was running. The forest was thick and it seemed that every branch and every root conspired to trip him and hinder his progress. Yet still he ran. Stumbling and crashing, but always running. A great beast was behind him. He could almost feel the hot breath upon his back and he whimpered and sobbed in fear as the dark trees continued to hinder his mad rush.
Finally, he burst from the trees and came into the valley at last. It was dark as if the sun was hidden behind layers of dark cloud. The very air seemed grey and stagnant. But there were familiar shapes standing in the grass and he called to them in panic:
"Help! Help!"
Yet they did not heed him. They stood still as statues and looked at him with sorrowful, disappointed eyes and turned away. He ran on, now in greater fear.
In the distance, he saw a well-known shape turned away from him and he cried out desperately:
"Cera! Oh Cera!"
He ran up to her, but his mad rush towards her was halted in a fraction of a heartbeat as she turned. Her face was drawn into a pall of anguish and despair. Her eyes were no longer wells of clear water, but dark voids of internal suffering that threatened to suck him in and he would be lost. He stared in horror, knowing that it was he who had caused this change. He was frozen with horror and despair. Hot breath blew on his back and he felt sharp teeth sink into his hide.
With a jerk, Littlefoot came awake. He was shivering, but not from the cold. For a long while he could see nothing and he wondered if he had, for punishment, been stricken blind. But presently, he could make out the soft, grey outlines of objects near at hand and he could see Cera laying against the cliff-face and her face was frightened and distressed.
Littlefoot knew why she suffered. He had betrayed her. He loved her more than any other creature alive, and he had so badly wanted to show her that. But instead of bringing her joy and happiness, he had hurt her in a way that would never heal. Tears ran hot and bitter down his cheeks and the cold wind bit at him fiercely, but he felt it not. His eyes burned with tears and he cursed himself and his body for doing this thing to someone he loved so much. The sudden, almost desperate urge came on him to go away. To leave the valley and take the path towards the Mountains That Burn and wander there till fate decided his ultimate punishment. But he was taken with weariness such as he had never felt and sank to the ground and was lost again to sleep.
...
Cera was running too. But was not running away from something, but towards anything. She was alone. More alone than she had ever felt. She called pitifully for her mother and father and for her sisters and brothers, but there was no one.
She ran and ran until in the distance a reckognizable shape rose up. She called to it with a sudden rush of reckognition and joy.
"Littlefoot! Littlefoot!"
The shape turned, but it was not Littlefoot; and yet it was. It was Littlefoot transformed. He seemed increadably huge and he towered over her. His face was curled into a horrifying twist of a smile that sent her blood running cold, and between his legs, a monsterous fleshy pole pulsed and throbbed and she almost feel the heat eminating off of it. A terrible heat that washed over her and she felt that she would burn up in it. He came towards her and she screamed.
Cera shot up, her eyes wide awake from the terrible nightmare. She thought she could still hear her screaming, but it was only the howling wind passing through the mountain crags.
In the darkness she could see Littlefoot laying only a few steps away and he shivered in the biting cold. His eyes were screwed shut and his face was full of sorrow and total despair.
Cera felt a great surge of guilt rise up in her. She knew that his anguish was her cause. She had shattered their friendship and their love. She had betrayed him with her body and now he was in pain. She colapsed back onto the ground and wept bitterly in her sorrow until mental exhaustion overcame her and she fell again to sleep.
It seemed that almost the moment her eyes closed, Cera began to dream. But these were not dreams. They were glimpses from her memory. Her sleeping mind ran through all her memories of Littlefoot, from when they first met before the Great Earthshake, to the time they got lost in the deep woods in the far South of the valley and Littlefoot refused to leave her even when the little carrion-eaters appeared to harass them.
She also saw the arguments and fights they had gotten into over the many seasons. Yet, he always came back. No matter what happened between them, he was always there for her.
In the last vision, she saw him as he had been right after they had mated. A look of total devotion and love. And with that image burning in her mind, she awoke.
...
Littlefoot fell back to sleep almost as soon as his head fell against the rocks. At first there was nothing. There was no sight, no sound, no feeling. Only a silent void where he cried invisible tears in vain.
But through this darkness, there started a soft glow like the sun through failing clouds. It grew slowly until it seemed to surround him and a single ray came down like a shaft and landed on him. From out the light a voice spoke softly:
"Littlefoot."
"Mother! Littlefoot cried back.
"Littlefoot." The voice spoke soft and bright and clearer than any memory. "Dear, sweet Littlefoot. Let your heart guide you."
"Mother!" he cried out again as the light grew. It got brighter and he shut his eyes and blinked.
Cera and Littlefoot woke at the same instant. They looked out and the first ray of the rising sun came over the top of the mountains and shone down directly upon the two. The cold wind was gone and the shadows retreated before the rising circle and the valley gleamed bright and green in the rising light.
Littlefoot turned to Cera, and she to him and they looked deep into each other for the first time since they left the grassy hill the night before.
In that moment, all their love became clear to them, and as the dawn broke with a promise for a new start, a new beginning, they smiled at one another. It was a new beginning. And they were going to live it to it's fullest.
They embraced.