Rain and the Seven Stones

A Short Story by Jill D'Entremont

Chapter 1

“You were born in the rain.”

Three toes delicately touched the ground and pressed into the mud. Muscular legs stretched as the toes spread to provide balance.

“This would usually mean a fateful end, as it is so easy for a flood to spring up and cover one so small.”

A second foot silently moved through the air and found a steady place to rest beside a hand. Once settled, the hand raised and came to a boulder. The other hand tightly gripped a long tree branch tipped with a pointed rock.

“But you survived.”

Her body leaned forward. The first foot scarcely made a sound as it was raised from the swampy mud; only a three-toed footprint was left as a trace that she had been there.

Her eyes widened as her head rose over the rock. Her usually vibrant purple-hued irises were almost undetectable due to her dilated pupils. She needed to take in as much light and information as she could in the clouded moonlight.

“And I know that, no matter what, you will be able to do anything you set your mind to.”

In the field ahead of her were three adolescent tyrants surrounding a group of even younger horned grazers. The field was open territory, and it appeared they were following the law of the land by not hunting to kill, but their laughter and exaggerated roars were a signal that they were not above playing games with the children’s fear.

Nostrils flaring, she hummed into the night air. The melodic rumble resonated through the crest atop her head and stopped the three tyrants dead in their trickery.

“What was that?”

One of the hunters narrowed her gaze and looked in the direction of the sound. The edge of the forest and a few scattered boulders was all that filled her gaze. To the west, just over a hill, the crashing of ocean waves was signaling a storm approaching.

“It must have been thunder,” she snarled, turning her scowl into a toothy grin as she eyed the trembling group of children. “That’ll really scare these little babies...”

“Thunder,” the hiding creature muttered to herself once she realized the need to stay silent was moot. “Well, you’re close.”

She pulled a rock from a crudely made sling bag on her hip. She hummed again and thrust the rock into the clearing.

Again, the tyrants were distracted from their game.

“That wasn’t thunder,” one began to walk away from the group, “something’s out there.”

The huddled group of children began to shift closer to the opening he had made.

“Hey, come back or we’ll lose our prey!” The female tyrant balked, pacing quickly to close the opening.

Another rock landed to the tyrant’s left, catching his attention.

“But there’s something out here! I hear it!”

His other friend was growing impatient. “Ignore it, we have something right here!”

He huffed and obeyed, turning on his oversized feet.

The hiding creature rolled her eyes as the tyrant trudged his way back toward the group. “Oh hunters… if you weren’t trying to bend the rules, I wouldn’t have to do this to you.” Her fingers gripped another rock. “And I do so hate to do this,” her lips pulled to a smirk.

Suddenly, the tyrant lurched forward, bellowing a loud roar and flailing clumsily. “Something hit me in the back!” He moaned, almost tripping over his own feet.

His companions were finally beginning to feel less in charge of the situation. “Like... what kind of something?”

“I don’t know, but it hurt!”

One glanced to the other. “Maybe it was a rain drop.”

“Rain drops aren’t solid, Keva!”

The hiding creature closed her eyes. “All right, this is getting nowhere.”

In one fell swoop, she leapt onto the boulder and trumpeted a loud call. Her head dipped forward as she balanced herself with one hand on the ground. Deep blue stripes across light blue scales caught the moonlight and pulled her from the dark hues around her.

This time, all eyes on the field noticed her.

“It’s that blue crest-head!” The female tyrant roared.

“We’ll catch her this time!” Cried another, rushing headlong away from his companions.

The grazer darted along the forest line and drew all three hunters away from the field. Her speed kept her far ahead of the lumbering tyrants, even when she paused at the top of a boulder to glance back at them.

“You think you can fight us with that tree branch?” One called, referencing the crooked staff still firmly in her hand.

Her muscles tightened as she shifted her balance. “You’ll see.” She flashed a grin and leapt across a mass of plant matter moments before the tyrants rushed onto the boulder.

They noticed their mistake far too late.

The boulder, carefully balanced upon another, slid away under their weight and sent them careening into a pit that had previously been hidden under branches and leaves. Two landed on each other in various uncomfortable positions in the slimy mud that filled the bottom of the pit.

One had managed to catch the edge of the pit with his chin and arms. He gnashed his teeth in her direction despite being unable to reach her.

“Is this you catching me ‘this time’?” She leaned her head closer to the snarling hunter, who was almost her size due to his youth.

The tyrant gripped the edge with his short arms, raised his head, and roared at her.

She slapped the blunt end of her staff onto one of his hands.

Gasping, he lost his grip and fell on top of his companions in the pit.

As they struggled to right themselves—and growl some sort of unkindness at the crested grazer—she paced around the pit and started back to the field. Raindrops were beginning to patter upon the ground along with her feet.

The parents of the young horned grazers had already rushed in once the tyrants had been otherwise distracted, and others from their herd had lined the edge of the forest to watch. When they saw her coming, the father immediately came forward to meet her.

“We—oh, thank you!” The boney, horned frill of his head bobbed as he practically bowed at her feet in breathless gratitude.

She waved one of her hands. “Please, as long as you are all safe, that’s all I need.” She slid the staff through a loop of vine strapped to her back and met the sheepish eyes of the children: barely grown in to the stubby horns on their foreheads. “Hopefully lessons have been learned now.”

The children nodded their heads and looked at the ground at their mother’s feet.v\

She gazed up and found herself locked into the eyes of their mother. Though neither spoke, the relief that filled the horned grazer’s eyes was not unlike her own mother’s face the day she had returned safely after a harrowing situation.

“You’ll want to head back to your camp as quickly as you can,” the blue grazer nodded to the forest as rain shimmered on the crest that gave her kind its name. “The tyrants will be able to get out of there before long and they’re not going to be happy.”

“Of course, thank you—we truly cannot thank you enough.” The father again bobbed his head. He began to coax his family to move back to the forest, but he stopped just as the group began to move. “Please, what are you called?”

The crested grazer pressed her lips into a grin. “Rain.”

He smiled and nodded as raindrops fell around them. “Fitting.” He bowed one last time. “I am Rhoger. Thank you, Rain. Please know you will always be welcome with us.”

“I appreciate that, Rhoger.” Rain bowed in return. “I just may see you around.”

“I may be a round if my mate keeps feeding me as much as she does.” The grazer spoke succinctly.

“Rhoger!” The aforementioned mate shot a glance over her shoulder.

“What?”

Rain snorted under her breath as Rhoger turned and plodded after his family. She shook out a grin and kept watch to ensure the family made it to the forest. Then, alone, she straightened her body as far as she could upon her legs and closed her eyes. The deep blue stripe down her crest shimmered in the rain. Droplets trickled down her face and fell upon the light blue shades that marked her chest.

“I’m glad you were watching, Mother.”

The grumblings of the tyrants was growing louder. The rain would keep them slipping back into the pit for now, but their distressed calls would attract more of their kind to the area. It was time for her to make her own exit.

Dipping back down, she ran away from the pit and the forest and started for the sea. The waves showed their foamy crests as they were whipped against the rocky shore. The rain was picking up as lightning streaked near the horizon. This was another reason to head to safety.

Three-toed footprints followed behind her as she sloshed through the wet sand. Ahead of her was a cave formed from a curved arch on the edge of the beach that had she often used for shelter. It was deep enough to protect her from the driving rain, but had two openings for her to slip out if one became blocked.

Once inside her haven, in Rain let out a deep breath and shook the excess rain from her body. Using the lightning’s flashes for light, she then found two rocks and a chunk of wood near the back of the cave. She struck the rocks together to spark a fire and sighed contentedly as its warm glow began to rise from the wood. At last, she sat down on a worn nest of leaves and twigs built into the sandy ground and began to remove the equipment strapped to her body. She had learned early on to wield the environment around her, and, without her own herd for protection, she had also learned how to defend herself with it.

She set down each one: a pouch made from leathery skins to hold rocks, tools, herbs and sometimes food; a staff made from an old tree branch with a sharp rock tied to the end; a vine to strap her staff to her back; and bracers made of crab bones and shells to protect her shoulders and arms. She saw few other dinosaurs using the resources around them in the way she did, but few other dinosaurs were without a herd. Few other dinosaurs needed such things to survive.

“You were very brave today.”

Her mother’s voice echoed in her head as she settled into the nest on all fours. The downpour outside her haven and the crackling fire beside her provided the rest of her soundtrack.

“You were so brave that I thought for sure I would lose you too... but when I saw you rescue Lake from the mud pond,” the relief caused her mother’s eyes to dip closed as a smile brightened her face, “I knew at that moment, this is what you have been called to do. Please, always be careful; but, always try to help someone if you are able.”

She bent her neck to rest the top of her head on the ground, curling her arms and legs beneath her to conserve all the heat she could.

Her mother wouldn’t have known that these very words would bring her daughter into such trouble. Her mother wouldn’t have known that her daughter would be blamed for the attack on her herd and subsequently cast from it. Her mother wouldn’t have known because her mother had died along with most of her herd that day.

But as she ran away into the darkness, the rain found her. It covered her and hid her tears. In that moment, she felt as though her mother was with her as the rain fell around her.

She shut her eyes. It had been so many years now, but the rain that fell now was no different. The rain was her namesake, and the rain was her mother. Now, in its steady beating, it lulled her to sleep after a long day of rescues.

“You were born in the rain. And you will always be a survivor.”

 

Chapter 2 >>