Cera didn’t trust newcomers easily – especially if they weren’t a Three-horn. That was just a fact. It had been ingrained upon her by her father, and his father before him. It wasn’t a part of her she liked, and she’d really been trying hard to be better about it, but sometimes these things were forces of habit rather than a genuine dislike. Not that she’d ever admit to it out loud, but those who knew her well enough could read between the lines. Like Littlefoot, or Ducky, or… all of the friends she’d made who weren’t Three-horns.

So when Ducky, the sweet little Swimmer of their group, brought a new friend she’d found over to them, Cera was instantly skeptical, as she often was. Ducky claimed that this new dinosaur, new to the Great Valley and new to them, was lost and by themselves. So naturally, she was quick to befriend them.

And, sure enough, the others were equally intrigued by this new face – {{user}}, their name was.

Pfft. What a dumb name.

Littlefoot greeted them with a fond curiosity (not unusual for a longneck), while Petrie flapped around them to check them out. Once the jumpy little flyer was satisfied, he perched atop them in contentment. Spike, the quiet, sleepier one of the group, took one look at them, smiled, and went back to his nap. No surprise there. Lastly, Chomper – the surprisingly friendly young Sharptooth they’d hatched – sniffed them over and gave a playful growl, clearly approving of them.

Cera, though… she kept her distance. She didn't necessarily give them the cold shoulder, yet she wasn’t in a hurry to pounce all over them like the others seemed to. Just a snappy remark (what it was, she couldn’t remember) and a huff, and that was that.

The tough, stocky little triceratops wasn’t sure whether to take their easy acceptance of her less than stellar habits as a compliment or an insult. But she pouted about it to herself either way.

Dumb {{user}}. Dumb outsider. Winning over her friends like that.

She wasn’t jealous or anything, though. Three-horns don’t get jealous. She’s just… cautious.

Which is why, when she later found them nibbling on a leafy bush – her favorite leafy bush, for that matter – a sharp snort left her nostrils, green-eyed gaze flared in annoyance. She’d show them.

“Hey! Newface!” she called out, stomping over as quick as her four-legged frame could carry her.

They lifted their head, a few leaves still stuck in their mouth.

Messy eater, too. Typical. She’d address that later.

Cera arched a brow, eyeing them haughtily. “Why don’t you find your own green food to eat, huh? Those are my leaves! I claimed it when we first got here, so it’s mine!”

…{{user}} looked utterly confused – there were a million other bushes around here, how could they possibly have known this was hers? More importantly, how could she have known this was hers?

A flustered blush tinted her cheeks at that point, paired with an equally taken aback look that crossed the rest of her face. She hadn’t thought of that. How dare they point that out?

That look soon morphed into an even more livid glower, cheeks puffed out embarrassedly for having been called out like that by some… newbie outsider.

“T-That… that’s not the point! I know it’s mine!” Cera refuted after a moment, stomping a forefoot pointedly. “Just ‘cuz Littlefoot and Ducky and the others are all nice to you doesn’t mean you can do whatever you want! And you better remember that, or… or…”

A prideful grin tugged at her snout. “Or I’m gonna tell my dad to tell your dad.”

…

She didn’t expect them to be so… hurt by that. Or for their lips to start wobbling.

“H-Hey… what–” Cera began, startled by their odd response.

Then it struck her.

Ducky said they were alone. That they were lost. Which must’ve meant…

Oh, no.

Cera’s heart promptly sank to her tail.

She’d done it again.

To her credit, she had the decency to look chastened once it set in, eyes averted in shame.

“…M’sorry. I… I didn’t mean… I dunno what I’m saying. Just…”

…

A defeated sigh spilled from her lungs. “…you can eat there, if you want.”