I SPENT the next few hours trailing the albino longsnout I found most interesting. Dare I say interesting above other terms; for one, I had yet found the time to study his character as I had all the others. And, for another, he seemed to be the most tragic of all our 'Fintails'. More or less, the least understood one.
The albino male huffed and puffed as he stormed the conifer forest, his every step rattling Nature's flesh and startling her creatures into hiding. Just a quick look at those jagged white scales and that molten fire swirling beneath a dot of black and the world knew he was someone to fear. But would you believe me if I said he wasn't all that? Surprisingly, Fossil's heart linked most to Thorn and Able — filled with warmth, happiness, grace, and pleasure. As a youngster, he sought appreciation from his mother and siblings, hoping to be the best of the best. And he admired the world and all its glories, always yearning to tell his family about the adventures he seemed to have...
That was the case, until everyone's attention focused on the younger brothers.
In the natural world, an older sibling will always look down upon their youngest. Rarely is it because of good or evil intentions (as many fairy tales tell it), but of something tragic: jealousy. Yes, this word is the bane of all existence, the mortal scar of the living and the damned. I have seen it destroy entire kingdoms and rot the most innocent lives without mercy. It spawns in all of us -- in you, in Fossil, even in me.
How else would you feel when the littlest one got the biggest meal? The longer lick? The better rewards? Or even the most attention?
Stupid, cold-hearted, annoying... Fossil's mind rambled between my thoughts. I figured it added onto these regards, so I wondered on.
I couldn't help but feel sorry for him. No matter what Fossil did, no matter the innocence, every choice carried a repercussion to his name. And if something went wrong, he was always the first to be blamed. Not Jagger. Not Speck. Not Thorn or Able: Him.
Wretched... arrogant... blasted little—!
As soon as he was out of earshot, Fossil exploded, roaring as he hacked his gnarly talons into a tree sapling and severing its massive stem from the root. He watched it fall to the ground with a soulless thud, nearly breaking character from the rising emotions polluting his quaking chest. It was coming... that knot in the throat. That terrible, awful feeling...
The longsnout squeezed his eyes shut before that happened. Now is not the time, he scowled to himself. And, one snort later, the male was back on his merry hike, lumbering through the darkness as I followed from behind.
With his emotions burned out, and his adrenaline back to normal, Fossil set his mind on better things, like hunting. Not sparring. Not Speck. Certainly not Riptide's belligerent ego! Hunting, as it came to Fossil, was first and foremost. And why? After learning about Able's death, most of the family had resorted to mourning. Poor Cora stopped going to the mud pit, keeping close to home to watch her youngest siblings. Ripple remained in the cave by her mother's side, tending to her as she grieved. Jagger didn't really change much. And Thorn... the ruined green carnivore tried his best to make his family happy, even denouncing his grief by smiling all the time.
Fossil's nostrils flared. He knew he was faking. Deep down, Thorn was the most distressed of them all. He just wouldn't admit it... and he certainly didn't want to show it. Weirdly enough, he kept talking about seeing something in the sky... something shiny. But the family all figured it was his excuse for what really happened.
He shook his head in thought.
So Fossil took this day as a chance to earn some well-needed happiness... and maybe a slither of respect. A morning's worth of fishing to feed seven sad longsnouts (including himself) was an admirable challenge to take. And, if all goes well, his efforts could finally reunite the family in lieu of Able's passing.
It would surely be worth the time and the trouble.
The longsnout wandered until the melody of water overwhelmed the sweet whistles of the forest's livestock. Fossil purred to himself, eyes reflecting the trickling blue stream that greeted him with the winks of the morning star. Yes, Fossil thought with a smile. This was very much needed. He took his time wading into the rolling water; the temperature was warmer than usual, but felt like heaven against his scales. Beneath the waves, Fossil could feel little pebbles give way between his pointed toe-claws, and little rifts of upturned sand tickle the seams of his white scales. Along with the tranquil sounds that it gave, and the immaculate view, Fossil had never been happier to be alone. Once knee-deep, the spinosaur's body turned into a fulcrum; his tail flagged skyward while his head bowed to Nature's gifts, offering the longsnout enough distance to search the rippling waves for a snack. He liked this form of hunting; though vulnerable, it tested his reactions the most. And it was fun! Removing the need to run or swim was paradise to any predator, and nothing else could compare.
The only problem was timing. Most of the fish that took to the stream came in waves — there were no patterns. And, as perfect as this day was, it was looking like the predator timed his arrival poorly. Fossil's tail would flicker with impatience; the predator kept still and alert while his talons coiled and uncoiled with ease around his palm. Waiting. Watching. Listening. With so little happening, each passing minute felt like an eternity to him. He knew his brain would start drifting away from what was most important to other unnecessary things sooner than later.
And, just after ten minutes of nothing, the first mental image surfaced in his head.
Fossil growled once Speck's hateful glare broke even into his head. He nearly cursed himself for it; a quick reminder that he was hunting kept his maw clamped shut. Fossil couldn't get that look out of his head. Those sparring sessions had never done either of them good — just another waste of time and energy in both of their eyes. Riptide was always disapproving of Fossil's methods, no matter how he won. He tried to make it fun — it didn't really matter. And Speck's cowardice constantly thwarted his lust for enjoyment; where's the fun of sparring if your opponent keeps submitting to your every move? That's like a suicidal fish!
His eyes suddenly softened. Perhaps he did overreact. Speck had stopped talking for quite some time. There was an incident months ago (he wasn't there to see it) but whatever happened on the beach, whatever hurt him, broke him, too. He's been sulking ever since, silent and afraid, and Fossil couldn't understand it. Nobody could. Maybe that was the problem?
No. Fossil shook his head, Sparring was for good reason. With their mother, Azura, aging too fast for them to warn over, and their father's death still hovering above each one of them like Death, all they had was each other. They were still family. They were longsnouts.
And they were kings. They may not respect one another or show as much appreciation as most saurian families do, but the least they could do was protect each other. And that's all he asked for. That's... all he really wanted.
His eyes lowered. Whatever killed his father is still out there. Waiting. Watching. Hunting him as they did fish and rat. This world wasn't as safe as their mother taught it to be. And no other system would drive this into their thick skulls than a little sparring—
Fossil's body suddenly shuddered. Something had rubbed against his leg, something small and scaly. Fish! The longsnout blinked out of his stare with a gasp, searching the water.
Where is it? Where—
There!
He stabbed an arm into the water, feeling the pointed end of his fishing talon tear straight through flesh. Thwap, Thwap! Went the silver tail of a fish against his wrist, its beady yellow eyes bulging with pain.
I didn't give it much time to suffer — I took the fish's spirit just before Fossil sank his grizzly fangs into its hide and plucked it from his talon. A head jerk later and the longsnout had gobbled it down, licking his lips with a satisfied warble. Fossil's stomach churned with glee, as did his mood — a wealth of happiness suddenly spilled over the ruins of his sorrows, denouncing every little trigger that ruined him that day. His body reacted no differently; a wonderful, fulfilling sensation coaxed over his spirits, sparking a fire in his dear lungs.
Fossil exhaled with a purr. Food really did solve everything.
He returned to the river's depths, soon to hook another unlucky fish — he swallowed this one quick, licking his chops as his body relived the sensations a second time. The third fish found was thrown to the beach; Fossil assured himself that it would be for Mother and the rest of his siblings.
And then he ate the fourth one, completely forgetting his initial task.
For the time, Fossil remained here, fishing just to his likings and hooking whatever random morsels rippled beneath his shadow. By noon he had killed thirteen and eaten five, a number worthy of appraisal. He figured a break would do; now that the sun had peaked the cloudless heavens, his body could get its daily dose of starlight. And, for a reptile, nothing felt more pleasurable than the radiant bursts of starlight that sent tingles of warmth across your cold-blooded veins.
Fossil returned to the beach to sit and relax, letting his half-lidded eyes raise just enough to stare beyond the river's edge toward the world he called home. He made a show of his home; from the conifers to the ferns, across the great blue skies to the roaring oceans, and up that towering mountain of woe that nearly skinned that shining metal shape in the sky...
Fossil's eyes darted back to the spot. His eyes weren't lying. There was something above that mountain, something that didn't belong. Something out of place... but he couldn't make out what it was. A bird he hadn't seen before? A trick of the wind? Fossil's eyes narrowed at the glistening shape fixed in the sky. But, as soon as he blinked, it vanished without a trace. Nothing remained in its place... just stained blue skies. The longsnout's head tilted.
Huh.
His attention returned to the earth. A mirage, maybe. Or perhaps there was something in his eye, along the membrane? Alas, the second lining of his eyelid was a common trait among saurian, but he rarely used it unless a storm was afoot. So the longsnout blinked with it, re-coating his iris with a fresh layer of liquid. He took a second peek upward.
That didn't make much of a difference.
No matter. So long as whatever he saw didn't bother him, was it ever a means of great importance. Snorting to himself, the longsnout shivered out of his minute of comfort, stretching his body back to life, and stood up. Now that he had his fresh pile of fish, and his stomach was full, was there anything left to do? Little did the male think of returning home just yet; a piece of his soul kept him in place, as if forcing an undisclosed reminder on him. To what, he had no clue. Part of it was a feeling that what he hunted wasn't enough to feed everyone. And, second, he guessed Speck and Riptide's fumes still hadn't gone out.
Right, Fossil thought to himself. Longsnout sentiments last a while; even a day's worth of time isn't enough to snuff out all our fires. Especially Speck's... he's still moping around for all I care.
The spinosaur suddenly growled. If only Riptide-
No! No. Don't think about it... that's not worth your energy. Just go home and eat. You can claw your earholes out next time... or his.
Preferably his.
Fossil obliged to his demands. Quickly did his ivory snout lower to gather his catches; they were still tender to the tongue. All the while his eyes loosely glazed over the forest a second time, still recovering from the gentle burn of the sun, before turning downwind to the stream that ran the walls of—
Stream?
Fossil blinked once. Twice. He refined every sense known and unknown to a single spot on the earth as a safeguard, but nothing seemed to hide what laid before him. No... this was real. He could see it now. He could smell it, too.
The river was gone.
The fish dropped from his maw. No longer did he stand before the roaring, rushing flow of freshwater and fish that he had accepted it to be. Where the sands kissed the skinning waves of life now lived a line of fresh mud, nothing more. Only a trickle cut through the country, and any unlucky fish who hadn't slipped away in time wiggled helplessly across the beach, clogging their gills of goop and rock.
"What the..." the curious longsnout grunted, slowly wading into the dead river of woe. His black toe-talons coiled as they struck mud, nares flaring wide as the earthen stench of raw marsh and muck gathered in his nostrils. The ground squished eerily between his toes — warm, slick, yet empty. His tail twitched out of concern; Fossil's first hypothesis was a fallen tree upriver, but not even a trunk his size or bigger could discharge an entire river elsewhere. A crack or a rock wouldn't have done any better, either; his next assumption fell short of his approval given the magnitude of water pushing from the mountain and into the thickets below.
Surely it was something... but what—
Suddenly, a thunderous growl shot out across the valley, accompanied by a ripple coursing through the earth. Fossil gasped; his legs spread outward to catch himself, both front talons spearing into the mud to meet the sudden buck of the earth.
I felt it, too — it nearly knocked me from my place in the shadows, bewildering me as it did him. Aye, as Death, I've learned to time Fate's actions, foreseeing when a creature's time is imminent, and how worlds crumble.
But I didn't predict any of this.
Above, birds aplenty lunged into the skies, screeching of a madness beyond reason; their flaps erratic and forceful as they fled. That wasn't our only warning; the forest had grown deathly quiet since it happened. Even the beached fish had stilled, the bulges of their yellow eyes darting about in terror to an unforeseen monster. Fossil's eyes darted about, and his claws sunk deeper, trying to feel for the earth in confusion. Something was wrong.
And then his instincts kicked in.
The theropod suddenly seized up, sensing the slit of his pupils shrinking into a sea of red muscle. His talons clenched in sync with his maw, forcing the longsnout to inhale sharply in reflex. And then came that terrible sensation that all animals despair, that gut-sinking feeling that builds within the underbelly, and floods the body with nothing but fear. Fossil didn't need to think twice to know what was happening. He could feel it now. And so could I.
Earthquake.
The tremor struck without warning. Fossil's four claws plunged into the mud as the ground beneath him suddenly lurched upward, then dropped, nearly dragging him to the ground. He tried to hold balance with his tail; the third wave made quick work of his fight. One jolt later, Fossil violently crashed into the ground, splattered in mud and forced to remain a victim of a ride swoon to kill. His eyes bulged, fresh whimpers breaking free as he held on for dear life. Everything was falling apart around him. Conifers bashed and banged into each other, some toppling over while others sunk into the earth. Rocks bounced around his body, giving into whatever fate destined for them. And, at the river, a massive crack was forming, cutting through the mud and grinding back and forth uncontrollably to the dance of the earth.
Fossil noticed the mountain ahead of him also trembled and bucked, swelling and sinking with the waves of an unseen ocean until suddenly, without warning, a sharp light erupted at the peak. The longsnout's eyes couldn't turn away in time; its raw intensity blinded him instantaneously, sending him reeling to the ground in anguish. Roaring aloud, Fossil didn't have a second to react before the blast wave reached his ears, deafening his world with a violent clap of thunder.
Nothing but a ringing remained.
Having lost three senses at once, the albino longsnout took no time surrendering to fate. Each bump and quiver from the floor beneath him continued to rock him, and he couldn't fight it. Fossil tried roaring for help; the ringing seemed to mute it. So he aimed his intentions toward escaping to the safety of the trees. He took a bold step forward.
And the ground opened up beneath him.
"Ah, AH!"
The earth swallowed Fossil and everything around him whole. It dragged him further, deeper, burying the terrified male in earth and water until he could not breathe. He thrashed and choked, kicking mindlessly about. And, if he dared free himself, Fate would jerk his body like a rag doll and shove him further into the sinkhole.
Something heavy struck his flank as he fought. Pain like never before raced up his body before a spray of warmth struck his snout. His body suddenly slumped, defeated, rolling away lifelessly as the ground lurched and bent against his will. In whatever consciousness he still had, all Fossil could do was submit and whimper his regrets aloud. His world went dark.
And then it stopped. Everything stopped.