Walk Through Ash With Me

Pisces was old. As Smoketrail grew up, he began to realise more and more what that meant, and the weight of that knowledge weighed more and more heavily on his heart. She couldn’t take care of herself well anymore. Her hearing was going, as was her eyesight, and she was relying more on her sense of smell and her waning memories to get around.

Smoketrail worried for her, even though Pisces assured him she was fine. She told him that yes, she might be getting older and a bit more rickety - she was unstable on her feet sometimes, which was one of the things that worried him most of all - but she wasn’t that old just yet. It was a lie, one made to spare his heart from the grief that would eventually come. Smoketrail could see it in her eyes that even she was worried about her health. He wanted to stay with her for as long as he could. He’d stay with her forever, if that helped her, but Pisces simply gazed at him with love and kindness in her fog-glazed eyes.

“You are not meant to stay here with me forever, Smoketrail,” she lowed softly. Her voice sounded thin and papery as she encouraged him, once more, to leave and strike off on his own, to find his own place in the world. It tore Smoketrail’s heart as he bumped her muzzle gently with his beak. The young bull wasn’t sure that he would ever be ready to leave. Not when he knew that her age made her fragile, an easy target for carnotaurus and utahraptors.

“I could keep you safe,” he protested quietly. He had inherited his mother’s quiet voice, and her kindness as well. Maybe that was what made this goodbye so hard.

Pisces hummed in gentle amusement. “I can still take care of myself.”

Of course she could, laying on the ground as she was because she had grown tired after the strenuous exercise of doing some grazing and needed to rest afterwards. She couldn’t defend herself from carnivores now even if she wanted to, and it was rare for her to want to resort to any kind of violence. Smoketrail had never even seen her do so much as shake her head at a fly, no matter how annoying.

Smoketrail pressed his beak into her flank, mindful not to poke her with his nose horn, and listened to her wheezing breath. “I don’t want to leave you alone,” he whispered, his heart aching once more.

“I won’t be alone, sweet boy,” she replied as she turned her head to nuzzle him. “There are always other cows whose nests need tending. Your father visits from time to time as well.”

Yes… Odysseyr, his father. The grumpy bull who visited his offspring only occasionally to see how they were growing before he left them. Again. He wasn’t even sure that Odysseyr really loved Pisces, or liked him at all. He had met the hatchlings that he had with other cows when his father had brought them himself so that they could meet and get to know one another. Despite his sire's standoffishness, it was undeniable that his father cared deeply for Pisces. He could see it in Odysseyr’s eyes, the things that his father would never let be said for anyone but her to hear.

Smoketrail had one last protest. “I don’t think I’m ready.” To leave her, or for her to one day leave him. Judging by her scent, that day would come sooner than he hoped. He swallowed down the tightness in his throat. Odysseyr had taught them to be strong, and he didn’t want Pisces to see him so sad. Not when she was still here, with him.

Yet because she was his mother, she still saw it when he pulled back to look at her. Her expression was soft, pitying. She didn’t want him to leave either, not really, but she was tired, and he was young. He deserved to see some of the world, not to stay here with her while she grew slower and slower. One day, she would close her eyes forever, and it would be kinder to him to not be here to see it.

“You are,” she told him gently. “I’ve seen you staring out at the horizon, watching the Great Horn as it pours ash and fire into the sky. I know you want to see more of the world, and you’re not going to see it if you stay here tending to your dear old mother.”

She rested her muzzle alongside his, closing her eyes for a moment as they embraced. “Go see the world for me,” she rumbled quietly. “And when you’ve seen enough, then you can come back to tell me all about it. There’s nothing that’s going to keep you from visiting me, right?”

Smoketrail’s heart gave a twinge, a hurt so deep and violent that he was almost afraid it had left a physical mark. There was nothing that would stop him from visiting her - except her age. If he took too long to come back, or if something happened while he was gone… he would never be able to visit her and speak to her like this again.

“Go,” she encouraged him again.

Smoketrail squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his beak into Pisces’s shoulder one more time. He would go, if only because he knew that it hurt her to see him upset just as much as it hurt him to see her trying to be brave for him.

“I’ll visit,” he said quietly. Like her, he tried to hide his true emotions and keep them from his voice, but even with Pisces’s failing vision, she could see his grief.

“I know you will,” she replied softly.

===

Greylander was in a dour mood after he and his sire had finally butted heads fiercely enough that it had come to blows. Greylander had lost their brief sparring match of course, being a smaller and less experienced bull, but that didn’t make the sting in his shoulder where Odysseyr’s nose horn had dug into the meat and cut the hide hurt any less.

If Odysseyr wanted to be alone, then Greylander would leave him alone. He would never come back. He would prove to the older bull that he was just as strong and capable as Odysseyr was, if not more.

Greylander cut his horn through the earth and tossed his head, working off the remaining anger that his brother didn’t need to see. They both knew how their father could be. Stubborn, thick-headed, coarse, irritable. Smoketrail had teased Greylander more than once that they were practically the same bull, which was why they got on so poorly. Not too alike, Greylander hoped.

Greylander snorted and scuffed his horn on the smooth bark of a young tree, cleaning the dirt and dust off of it to hide the evidence of his irritation. Once satisfied, he walked a familiar route that would lead him to where his brother was being raised.

Half-brother. Though they had different mothers, the flash of blue that was developing on their faces as they grew older made them unmistakably kin. Greylander had never minded the difference.

When Greylander was younger he had often wondered why Odysseyr didn’t take both of them under his watch as he roamed. He knew better than to ask then, but by now he had put the pieces together even without asking. Smoketrail was too much like his mother, Pisces, to grow up to be the sort of bull that Odysseyr wanted him to be. The realisation had soured Greylander’s stomach when he had figured it out. Smoketrail was just as strong a styracosaurus as he was, it didn’t matter that he had an obviously kind heart as well. That, too, made him stronger than Odysseyr ever would be. They would show him, one day.

That was why he was traveling to see his brother now - to convince him to join him, to wander the island and prove not just to Odysseyr, but to anyone that they crossed paths with that they were capable of greatness.

He was still far outside of Pisces’s domicile when Greylander realised that he could smell his brother’s scent already. It was strange - Smoketrail wasn’t often far from his mother’s side, especially recently while her health was declining.

Greylander bellowed a greeting which the wind carried to Smoketrail and pulled him from his thoughts. The blue-grey bull was sat down under a scraggly old oak tree that just couldn’t hold more than a few leaves at a time anymore, and as Greylander approached, he realised that something was off about his brother. Smoketrail was always relatively quiet, as was he, but this time it was different. There was a deep sadness about his brother; it was in his posture, his expression when he finally turned to face Greylander as he approached, even in the way that he breathed.

It didn’t take much thought to put together what was wrong. Greylander could smell the oddness of Pisces’s scent on his brother, he had every time he’d visited recently.

They waited in mutual silence for a moment, Smoketrail looking for the words to say and Greylander content to wait. Smoketrail’s voice was quieter than usual when he finally spoke. “... She wanted me to go.”

Meaning that he didn’t want to. Greylander dipped his head slowly. “Odysseyr as well,” he replied roughly. His voice was still hoarse from the bellowing match that had taken place between him and their sire.

Smoketrail’s attention shifted to the puncture in Greylander’s shoulder when he realised he could smell blood. It wasn’t much, but the wound would scar when it healed. Not Greylander’s first, and it wouldn’t be the last. Both of them knew that. Smoketrail sighed deeply. His heart still ached, like a utahraptor’s talon had pierced clean through his hide and into his chest.

The thick mat of quills along Greylander’s rump and tail rattled and clacked together as he sat and then laid down beside his brother, which surprised Smoketrail. “What are you doing?”

Greylander snorted and replied gruffly. “No need to leave and be alone, is there? We’ll go find somewhere to eat when you’re ready to leave.” He shifted and got comfortable, his front legs tucked loosely near his chest and hind legs stretched out to the side. “I’m in no rush.”

With Odysseyr not hurrying him along to get to one place or another, or pushing him to spar, or growling at him for doing something wrong, he had all the time in the world. Besides - he might not have had Pisces’s love and care when he was growing up, but he wasn’t heartless. It was obvious that Smoketrail needed time. Whether it happened today, tonight, or sometime in the future, he would eventually be ready to go. Greylander was content to wait in the meantime. It gave his shoulder some time to rest as well, and the wound did sting.

“... Thanks,” Smoketrail murmured as he turned his attention back out to the horizon. Greylander dipped his head again, just slightly.

Smoketrail had thought that he would be going into the next chapter of his life alone. He hadn’t considered that he might have his brother to come with him. The prospect of traveling with a familiar face, one that he had grown up with and held close to his heart in a place next to his mother, was comforting. It would make moving on just a little bit easier. But not… just yet. Not yet. He still needed some time.

===

The sun was warm overhead, bearing down on Hekla’s feathers unobstructed by the dense vegetation and towering trees she had lived amongst for so long. Leaving Cedar was… bittersweet. It was a long time ago now that she had grown to love the old bull as something like her father - or grandfather, perhaps, as elderly as he was. She didn’t fully want to leave him to his own devices, she had always enjoyed his company, but she was poorly suited for living amongst the trees, and he understood that. Her heart ached to leave him to the forests of Isla Pera, but… it was as he said. Just because she was moving on in search of a clearer view of the sky (or just fewer roots to trip over, really) didn’t mean that this would be goodbye forever. Their paths could always cross again in the future, whether because she wanted to check on him in the forest or because he decided to leave the cool shadows that the forest offered.

Hekla had returned to the land from whence she had come - the vast savannah and scrublands of the volcanic island. It had been a long time since she had traveled under so much sunlight, so exposed to both the elements and to other dinosaurs that might be in the area.

The teeth and claws of the cryo that had attacked her when she was younger had never left her. She could still feel the savage bite of the carnivore’s teeth and piercing sting of their claws in her nightmares, though the scars had long ago healed over and were lost in the thick feathers she now sported. The cryo would be a fool to approach her now, though. Her horns had grown considerably since then, an impressive crown atop her frill, and her nose horn, while blunted due to sustaining repeated damage from bumping into hard objects, was still plenty capable of doing serious damage. Hekla, herself, had grown substantially as well. When she left Cedar she had been almost as tall as he was, heavier as well, and she still had some growing yet to do and would become larger still.

For a while, she simply stood amongst the golden grasses, breathing in the sweet scents of drying plant life that the wind stirred up as it rippled across the ocean-like expanse. It was strange, not following the lead of Cedar all day. Now she had to choose where to go and what to do herself. She had no old bull to point her in the right direction, no beloved friend to help her out if her poor sight walked her into a tricky situation.

She would do just fine, though. Cedar believed as much, and Hekla was hardly worried.

The scent of water drew her attention. Clean and fresh, not the salty scent of the sea that the wind occasionally carried up from the shoreline. That seemed as good a place to start as any, and the heat was making her thirsty.

Hekla snorted to herself as she made her way towards what was likely a seasonal watering hole. She should have made herself stick to the forest a while longer so that she could have returned to the savannah in the cooler months and gotten used to the exposure over time rather than jumping straight into it. She was here now, though, and she would adjust.

The water was sun-warmed, but still offered welcome relief and worked well enough to quench her thirst. She drank deeply from it, not sure how long she would have the watering hole to herself and not sure where her wandering would take her next. She was already charting out a plan in her mind, contemplating the best course of action to adapt to the considerable shift in her environment. She was also coming to realise that she was vastly unprepared for the path she had given herself.

A nearby sound caught her attention, drawing her from her thoughts. Water dripped from her beak as she raised her head, turning towards the sound. Footsteps, she thought, and several of them. She couldn’t make out what kind, or what shapes were approaching her through the grass - but they sounded big. Hekla snorted and tossed her head as she planted her feet firmly to the ground. Whether it was a pack of utahraptors or a gang of cryos, they would be in for a fight if they decided to cross her.

When a large, blurry form emerged from the grass approaching the watering hole, Hekla charged.

Greylander let out a roar of surprise when a battering ram of a styracosaurus crashed into him, his head lowered to take most of the blow. Their horns were locked together as Hekla pushed with all her might, tilting and twisting her head to free herself so she could gouge her horn at him again.

Smoketrail came in from the side and hooked his nose horn around Hekla’s ankle to flip her - it was an easy enough maneuver that he had performed dozens of times when he was playing with his siblings and wanted to end a fight quickly.

Hekla grunted as her foot slipped out from beneath her and hurried to try to catch her footing so that whoever these newcomers were didn’t get the upper hand. She jerked her head towards Smoketrail with a bellow, which was when Greylander rushed her and gave Hekla a shove. The fight was over as quickly as it started, with Greylander and Smoketrail semi-victorious as they stood facing her with defensive posture and Hekla picked herself up off of the earth.

“We’re not looking for a fight,” Smoketrail snorted as Greylander and Hekla both caught their breaths. Greylander grunted. They had certainly found one.

“We’re just here to get a drink. We’ll move on.”

Hekla paused, focusing a little more on the blurry shapes. She could just make out styracosaurus forms now if she squinted her eyes, standing as close as they were. As if locking against Greylander’s nose horn didn’t make it obvious enough.

She snorted and got to her feet and shook out her feathers, a cloud of dust coming off of her. “Could’ve been carnivores,” she replied simply.

Greylander and Smoketrail shared a glance. Surely, she didn’t think that they looked like carnivores? Maybe the sun had addled her senses, they had seen it happen before.

“Can we join you?” Smoketrail asked after a moment. As far as he and Greylander knew, this was the closest source of water for at least a day's journey, and they were thirsty.

Hekla merely snorted again and turned back to the water in an act of wordless invitation for them to come and join her if they so chose. The water wasn’t hers to keep, and they would likely only end up hurting each other if she tried to tell them “no.” Greylander seemed to think as much as well, because he was wearing a look that was much the same as Hekla’s.

The pair of bulls stepped up to the edge of the water and drank as well, Hekla all but ignoring them as they did. Her hide burned under her feathers, but it was hidden embarrassment more than it was the heat of the sun. Cedar could have told her that it was a pair of styracosaurs that were approaching and it would have saved them all a scuffle - not that anyone got hurt this time. It was going to be hard, getting used to being on her own.

She drank with them in stony silence, ignoring whenever one of the bulls turned their heads towards her. Greylander couldn’t care less about their apparently volatile companion, but Smoketrail was curious. And worried. Maybe it wasn't heat, but her eyesight that had caused the confusion. He had noticed her squinting at them, and recognised the expression from the dozens of times he had seen Pisces do the same when she was trying to focus on something.

“There is a pack of carnotaurus that roams the scrublands near here,” Smoketrail rumbled.

Greylander raised his head and gave Smoketrail a long look, which Smoketrail ignored. What was he doing?

“A pack of utahraptors as well.” Though he had heard that the pack itself had recently been disbanded, or had otherwise lost some members. Even if that was the case the threat of them was still there, they would just be less organised.

Greylander sighed deeply to himself as he understood. They were helping another stranger. Even though she had tried to gore them. He would die by Smoketrail’s bleeding heart one day, he swore.

“It would be safer if we traveled together for a time,” Greylander offered, making it clear what Smoketrail was insinuating. He nodded his head, his horn pointing towards Hekla as she considered their offer. Just in case she decided to charge them again.

Hekla contemplated in silence. She hadn’t been separated from Cedar for long, yet her heart did long to walk with others. A whole pack of carnotaurus… would certainly be formidable.

She huffed quietly and dipped her head as well. There was no need for her to stay with them forever, but a temporary alliance would be beneficial for all of them. She would have extra eyes to watch out for the pack they mentioned while she got used to living out here beneath the sun again, and they would have extra muscle and weaponry to fight against any carnivores that they encountered.

“Fine,” she grunted. But she was going to finish drinking here before they moved on to wherever the bulls had in mind.