Something Almost Perfect

Minnow bounded across the forest floor, then stopped and squashed herself low to the ground to try to hide. She listened intently, looking around for any sign of something bigger wandering around. A utahraptor, or a carnotaurus looking for a snack, or even something as small as a large eagle would still be perfectly capable of whisking her away. She was growing, but she was not grown enough.

So when she was sure that the coast was clear, she bounded forward a few more lengths, then squashed herself down to the ground again. More listening. It was a slow, arduous pace, but it was safe. Mostly. She hated being exposed like this, out in the open. She wanted to be back in the water - which was precisely where she was going.

The river below the dam had dried up some time ago, and this summer was especially dry. Wildfires caused by sparks from the fiery mountain and stray lightning strikes had burned across the shrubs and grasses of the scrublands. Many of the streams that branched off of or fed into the river had also dried up, but she had heard that the great lake contained by the dam was still full to burst, so she was making the long journey up to the deeper waters.

As… uncomfortable as deep waters could be. She so much preferred smaller ponds and lakes where she could hide amongst tangled roots and shelter underneath overhangs, or disappear into rocks. Ponds that were too small or too secluded to contain large carnivores. Ponds much unlike the lake that she was climbing towards.

She would much rather attempt to survive in the large lake than to be burned by wildfire or scorched by the sun or picked off by a hungry carnivore, though. And it couldn’t be all bad, or she wouldn't have heard that other atopos had made the same journey.

Minnow bounded up some moss-covered rocks - only to lose her footing and slip off the side with a squeal.

She wriggled amongst the rocks, flopping about almost like a grounded fish, only to freeze when she heard something. Laughter. She flailed even more desperately, which only incited more laughter. When Minnow managed to right herself, she was prepared to run, convinced that it was some carnivore laughing at her failure before snapping her up - but it wasn’t. It was another atopo, like her. Featherless, a bit taller, a bit sleeker, and with short quills growing up over her back, rump, and along the base of her tail. Creek was standing proudly amongst the moss-covered rocks, a complete opposite stance to how Minnow had been scurrying around.

“I’m sorry,” Creek laughed with a squeak as Minnow’s feathers fluffed with embarrassment, “that was just too funny! Are you okay?”

“Shh!” Minnow urged quietly, looking around frantically for anything that might have overheard. She had made a lot of sound wiggling around, and Creek’s laughter might have brought even more unwanted attention.

Creek quieted, confused, and tilted her head to listen as well. She didn’t hear anything but the gentle breeze through the leaves overhead. “What are we whispering for?” Creek asked, her voice lowered to a teasing whisper.

Minnow’s feathers remained raised, confusion making her even more embarrassed. Was Creek not worried about being found? Hunted? “There might be predators around,” Minnow replied, just as quiet but considerably more serious and urgent.

Creek huffed and stood a little taller, raising her head proudly. “They wouldn’t mess with me.” She spoke with all the hubris of someone that had gotten into trouble once or twice and had gotten out safe and believed themselves immortal, someone that was confident in their ability to stand up to trouble. The quills along her back flexed, the points razor sharp. “Besides, my ma knows this area. She’s come up here before when the river was dry.”

Creek’s eyes squinted with amusement at Minnow, but her expression started to fall when she realised that Minnow’s body language said that she was well and truly scared to be here. She had really thought that something bad was going to happen if she didn’t stay deadly quiet.

“... We’re going up the cliff to the lake ‘cause the water’s all dried out below. My parents and me. Do you wanna come with us?” Creek offered.

Something uncomfortable coiled in Minnow’s stomach. The thought of a family encountering something big, and hungry. When Minnow looked unsure, Creek added, “Might be safer if we’re in a big group.”

With some consideration, Minnow made a quiet sound of agreement. It would be nice to have someone else to help look out for trouble, and maybe with older atopos around, she would look less like a snack. Creek looked delighted that Minnow agreed, squeaking and jumping ahead from rock to rock.

“C’mon, ma’s just up this way!”

Minnow hurried to climb the rocks again to follow behind, a little perplexed. Was Creek so sure of herself, so sure that they were safe, that she had just wandered off without her mother? It was… a little comforting, actually. She bounded across the rocks, sending small pieces of dried moss raining down on the ground below as she hopped after Creek.

“I’m Creek by the way!” the quill-backed atopo called over her shoulder.

The volume of her voice gave Minnow anxiety, but they still seemed to be safe, so she called ahead as well: “Minnow!”

“Nice to meetcha, Mini!”

Mini? “Minnow!” she called again, a little braver this time. Maybe Creek just hadn’t heard her properly the first time.

“Oh, my bad,” Creek teased. She had heard Minnow correctly the first time, but Minnow was shorter than her, so the nickname just felt right.

A chittering greeting almost halted Minnow where she stood, if not for the loose moss underfoot sending her sliding forwards. She had to jump and landed in a huff against the next rock, clinging to the surface, and when she managed to catch her breath and look up she saw Creek jumping and smoothing her head under an adult atopo’s chin and rubbing along her body, with her quills pressed flat along her back so she didn’t accidentally poke her mother.

Froth turned her attention to Minnow, her eyes curious but friendly. “Who’s this, little pebble?” she asked Creek, encouraging her daughter to introduce her new friend.

“Minnow!” Creek said, her voice loud and proud once more. “She was the one we heard coming up behind us. She was travelin’ by herself, so I told her to come with us!”

Froth’s eyes softened. By herself? Minnow looked quite small and unsure of herself, unsure of them. She had a strong suspicion she knew something of what happened to leave Minnow making the journey on her own. Her eyes warmed as she looked between Minnow and Creek. “That sounds perfect. Your father’s just up ahead, scouting the route.”

Creek shot a delighted look towards Minnow, who looked a little bit less cautious to know that they weren’t just traveling blind like she had been. Maybe they could even get to the lake faster. Minnow liked the idea of that.

The change of pace was something of a challenge at first. Creek, though about the same size as Minnow, moved much more confidently over the rocks and debris on the forest floor than Minnow had been moving, and Froth’s movements were shockingly graceful even out of the water. The adult atopo moved just as nimbly across the ground as any land-bound dinosaur. Minnow had difficulty keeping up but Froth made sure that the youngster never got too far behind.

They didn’t meet up with Saukko until they approached the lakeshore, water glistening off of his recently wetted hide. The brown male had an orange flash over his eyes and bill, which made the light in his equally orange eyes even brighter as he greeted Minnow enthusiastically. “Well, look who we have here! Seems like we’ve picked up a straggler, or otherwise my little pebble has duplicated,” he chuckled, nuzzling his bill into Creek. The young atopo squealed in delighted amusement as he nuzzled her around. She wriggled and squeaked, scrabbling at his bill and play-fighting with him until she got away - he let her up, but Creek looked like she took it as a decisive victory of cunning and strength. She arched her back but was careful to keep her quills relaxed as she bluff charged at him before she ran away again, giggling.

One look from Minnow to Froth told Saukko everything that he needed to know. Minnow was alone - the ugly kind of alone, the kind that left scars even if the wounds weren’t visible. None of them knew how long Minnow had been alone, but it seemed surprising to the adults that she looked as well as she did.

“You go on and get some time in the water,” Saukko encouraged. “Your feathers are lookin’ dry.”

Creek was already cheering and splashing in the water, and only paused to look back at them and encourage Minnow to join her. The water was wonderful!

Saukko dipped his head. “I already checked, it’s plenty safe.”

“We’ll be here if there’s any trouble,” Froth added softly. “We’ll keep you safe.”

Minnow still wasn’t sure. There was still a pit in the bottom of her stomach that made her uneasy about all of this. Seeing them all happy together, a family. She missed her family, and part of her was terrified that if she stayed, something bad would happen to this family as well. But… another part of her heart ached as well as she looked towards Creek, waiting eagerly just beyond the shoreline.

It wouldn’t hurt to spend just the day together, would it?