Chapter 5: Understanding

Hello, dear readers

As I said in the previous chapter, last week was very busy for me so I couldn't keep the weekly update I have been trying to follow. Nevertheless, that week has passed and now I can go back, hopefully, to a normal schedule.

For this chapter, I'll say it's a bit smaller than the previous one and a bit slow, but it provides a necessary step to develop the characters and their relationship. What happens in this chapter should allow for a quicker pace on the next chapter.

Like always, leave a review if you can.

-x-

Ever since becoming stranded on the island, Samantha's daily routine had always been permeated by constant worry. Every time she left her shelter, she needed to keep an eye out for possible dangers, for predators hiding in the bushes. It made normal tasks take longer than usual and kept her in a poor mood.

The feeling of loneliness was the most crushing of all. Humanity can be a reassuring thing, because knowing that you're not alone, that you can call for help, makes it easier to deal with challenges and to remain calm. Sam had none of it. If she made a wrong move, took a wrong decision or anything like that, she was done for.

Now, however, as she searched the lab for anything useful, she felt her previous situation was better.

It accompanied her like a shadow, keeping itself just out of reach. The raptor seemed to act like a bodyguard, watching her like a hawk as she opened drawers and cabinets. The feeling of being watched by such a dangerous creature was unnerving, to say the least. Her shotgun, kept close to her hip, offered some reassurance, but she only had one shot at the moment. Every so often she would glance at the raptor, mostly to make sure it wasn't a hallucination. This whole situation felt surreal, being followed by a raptor without even a hint of aggression. Just what the hell was going on?

Chaser, on the other hand, was having a completely different experience. He was intrigued by Samanthas actions, as they were very different from anything he knew. When she had first picked up the small comp from the pair he had hunted, he expected her to simply eat it like he did. Instead, she had first cut it open using her metal claw and removed its organs, then she tied some sort of… vine to its tail and left it hanging above the ground. Why was she doing that? Was it some sort of ritual soft skins did before eating? Maybe she put it there as a warning to others?

Those actions had been strange enough, but now the soft skin had occupied itself with looking inside the many strange wooden objects that filled the inside of the structure. It seemed she was searching for something. He didn't know what exactly, but it was interesting to watch.

One thing he concluded from watching her was that these structures and the many things inside them were indeed made by the soft skins. He did so by seeing how the spaces and the things inside them seemed to comply to the soft skin's size. Each chamber, with its weird and unnatural sharp angles, was always just large enough to allow her to move freely. The wooden objects were never too small or too big for her to reach, they were always near her chest or belly, allowing her to easily open and search them. Indeed, they were even spaced just enough to allow her to move between them. Chaser, for his part, was forced to be extra careful not to bump into things or knock something with his big tail. Normally he wouldn't care, but he was trying not to frighten the soft skin, both out of sincere consideration and self-preservation, as the soft skin still carried her weapon with her.

"Don't you have anything better to do… besides eating me?" Samantha asked. It was hard to concentrate with the large shape of the raptor constantly on her peripheral vision. Although it probably wouldn't be better if he was out of sight. The raptor didn't answer to her question. It huffed once and continued to stare.

There wasn't anything useful inside the lab. Any medical supplies were either expired, broken or too dirty from years of decay to be useful. There were some interesting papers about the work done here, but she wasn't about to waste time on that. She didn't care about the job anymore, she just wanted to get out alive.

Eventually, Sam got tired of searching around and decided to do something else. Namely, she wanted to get rid of her current clothes, which were stained by a combination of blood, dirt and dilo poison.

She left the labs and arrived back at the main hall. The single comp she had gutted was hanging from one of the stairs. Beneath it was a pool of blood, no longer growing. Taking a few steps closer, she couldn't see much blood still dripping from the body. "Guess most of it is out by now," Sam would need to make a small fire and cook it well. Last thing she wanted was to bring some tropical parasite as a farewell gift from the island.

Chaser, standing a few feet behind, noticed how she had looked down at the blood and then analyzed the comp. Had she placed it there to remove the blood? Why? "Weird…" He grunted.

Almost immediately he regrated opening his mouth, as the soft skin turned around with her weapon on hand. He lowered his head a bit and looked away in an effort to appear less threatening. It seemed to work. After a few seconds staring, the soft skin calmed down and walked away. He was a bit annoyed at her lack of trust, but it was expected.

His actions almost made Samantha feel bad. Almost. The entire situation was surreal enough, and she didn't know what to expect. All of this was completely beyond her knowledge. The only thing she knew is that the raptor, like any other predator, could suddenly decide to attack. Still, she couldn't understand why the raptor was behaving like this. It had been a few hours already and it continued to follow her around.

The only explanations she could come up with were too extreme for her liking. To assume that he was a sentient creature like herself would bring about a lot of possibilities, both good and bad. For now, her best alternative was to treat this as just some highly unusual behavior. Part of her wanted to look for more evidence, do some good old scientific research, but her main goal was to leave the island. There was no time to play around.

The small dusty office she had woken up in remained the same as before. The old carpet was quite dirty and smelly from all humidity and years of neglect. Samantha opened her bag and looked for her spare clothes. She only had one extra set, as it was normal to bring when staying one or two days in the wild. This limitation had come back to bite her now that she had been stranded for several days on the island.

Her current clothes were already in a sorry state before the dilo attack, as she wanted to use them for as long as possible before changing. Now they were almost unusable and sported many holes and tears.

While finding her other outfit, however, Sam realized she had problem. One big problem that was standing right next to her and watching intently. She looked to her right and saw those big yellow eagle eyes staring at her. The raptor made things uncomfortable. She would have to put her shotgun down and remove her current clothes, making her extremely vulnerable.

Her first instinct was to push him away like a dog, but she knew that wouldn't work and could be extremely dangerous. Pushing a wild animal was out of question. But then, what could she do? The raptor was clearly adamant about following her around like a puppy and there was nothing she could do that didn't involve shotting him, which she honestly didn't want to, both for the practical reason of saving what little ammunition she had and from her scientist side that didn't wish to kill a living fossil.

In some ways, it was almost like she was a Disney princess or a Pokémon trainer, with her own sidekick. Albeit a much more deadly and not very kid friendly companion at that. Thinking of the raptor as her Pokémon almost made her laugh. "Is this why you're following me around, boy? Want to go on some adventure and catch some Pokémon?"

The raptor simply cocked his head a bit, as if trying to understand what she was saying. "Nah, maybe you're just trying to figure out how a dumb human like me haven't got herself killed yet."

She looked down at her clothes and let out a quiet sigh. It was best to get on with it.

Leaving the shotgun next to her bag, she began by removing her boots. They were a bit humid but were sturdy enough to remain almost intact after everything she had gone through with them. As she removed them, she noticed a series of light bite marks around the left foot. She didn't remember that happening. Maybe it was after the dilo fight? Although if an animal with this many teeth had gotten to her boots, she didn't think she would be alive right now.

Looking closer to those marks, it was apparent they weren't a strong bite, more like a light nib at her feet, the kind of thing a dog might do when playing. Whatever had bitten her boot didn't intent to hurt her. It seemed as if it had applied just enough force to sink its teeth into the material, as if it was trying to… get a grip? To what end?

Something in her mind made her look at the raptor besides her. More specifically, at his muzzle. Her eyes switched between his mouth and her boot, trying to see if the marks matched. Based on her estimations, he would need to use only the tip of his mouth to do it, which didn't seem possible. Why not just bite down her entire foot? His mouth big enough to fit all the way to her knee probably.

Looking down at the marks, she saw how some of the material, just a tiny amount, was teared in an outwards direction. It could mean two things: either she had pulled her foot away when it happened, or whatever had bitten down on her boot was trying to drag her away. The second option seemed more likely, given her state after the fight.

This is why she had woken up in this room, Samantha realized. The raptor… he had dragged her in here after the dilophosaurus fight.

The realization made her freeze on the spot. This right here could be the evidence she was looking for. "Okay, let's think this through," Samantha thought. "If I assume everything I don't remember after the dilo fight was because of the raptor, that means he followed me here, got rid of the dilo's body, dragged me outside to the rain, waited until most of the poison was washed, dragged me back inside into this room, watched over me throughout the night and then hunted two Compsognathus for me. All of that because I saved him from the Carnotaurus."

The first time Sam had thought about this, when she was looking at the dilo's blood trail, it seemed impossible. Now, however, she had some evidence it did indeed happen. This raptor could very well have saved her.

That last thought made her shiver. She could be on the edge of discovering something that should be impossible.

The raptor in question could only guess what she was doing. Chaser saw her eyes going from him to the weird thing she used to protect her feet, focusing on the marks he had left on it. He hoped she wouldn't be angry at that. He hadn't meant to damage her stuff, but there wasn't much he could do about it. It was the only way he could think to move her around.

Suddenly, a shaky hand reached out to him, pressing against his left cheek, beneath his eye. That made him freeze for a moment. There it was again, that soft touch on his feathers. Her hand was unlike anything he had ever felt. It was too soft, making him wonder how soft skins could even survive with such delicate flesh. "This is why they cover themselves!" He realized. "They use these materials to protect their skin from the elements and other creatures!"

The soft skin in front of him carefully petted his cheek. He pressed his cheek further against her hand. It felt nice. Were the two soft skins he had killed like this as well? Just soft creatures that wanted to pet him, perhaps? No, it's best not to think about it.

"You… you did save me, didn't you? Why? What the hell is going on?" Sam's voice was almost as shaky as her hand had been. Chaser couldn't understand her words, but the tone was somewhat familiar to him. Was she sad? He hoped it wasn't because of the teeth marks on her… feet coverings?

No, that wasn't it. He focused on the hand petting him. It was as if she wanted to make sure he was truly real. As if she was seeing something that shouldn't exist. He thought back to the way she acted around him. This wasn't the overwhelming fear from before. She wasn't trying to get away from him or gripping her weapon. No, it was quite the opposite, the soft skin had come to some sort of realization about him, and it made her… sad? Scared? A combination of both? He couldn't decide.

Wait, what about the feet covering? It was the bite marks that made her react like that. Why?

Thinking back to the way she acted around him, he realized she was always expecting him to attack her. Every time he made a sudden noise or movement, she would brace herself for an attack. She didn't trust him, not until now. The weapon she always held so close was now forgotten on the ground.

"Those teeth marks… I left them after helping her," Chaser thought. Had she realized what he did? That's probably why she's acting like this. Maybe now the soft skin knows he doesn't mean any harm. Good. Perhaps he won't have to be constantly worried about getting blown open by her weapon.

Ahead of him, Samantha was calming down from her realization. "Okay, I could still be wrong, but maybe I should give him the benefit of doubt…"

She stopped petting the raptor and went back to the task at hand. Her boots came off easily enough. Next went her socks (both of which were wet and dirty). She then removed her belt with all her tools, machete and ammo pouch.

Before she began to remove her shirt, however, she felt a bit uneasy. Chaser was now sitting a couple of steps besides her, near the doorway. Sam looked at him for a moment and felt uncomfortable with his presence. To her surprise, it wasn't just because he was a raptor, but simply because he was staring at her.

"Jesus, I'm humanizing him too much…" She complained. "Even if he's intelligent, it doesn't mean anything. He's a raptor, he doesn't have the hots for you."

Despite the unease, she removed her shirt and her cargo pants, choosing to keep her sports bra and panties, as those two were still in good condition. To her right, Chaser was looking straight at her. "Way to make it more awkward…"

Even if he could understand, it was hard not to stare. All previous examples he had seen of human bodies were covered in blood, torn open and missing limbs. He hadn't had the chance to see one so… complete.

Samantha was different from those two. She lacked all the fur that had been present on their legs, chest and face. Her shape was more… round and curvy, her muscles not nearly as defined as those two he had killed. Her most defining features were, of course, the two lumps of flesh hanging from her chest. As he had guessed, they seemed to be made of fat, and he couldn't imagine what they were there for. They looked a bit out of place, if he was honest. Still, he found her form interesting. It was unlike anything he had seen. Her body and the red fur cascading down her head made for a unique sight.

He thought about his feathers for a moment. In some ways, her head fur was similar to them, as they both contributed to their appearance. Was she proud of her red fur as he was of his feathers? "Probably…" He assumed.

Although he obviously preferred his feathers. Unlike her fur, they covered most of his body, which clearly made them better. They were also prettier. Yes, he was totally the most attractive of the two. Not that he would ever have to compete with a soft skin for a mate, but still… he would definitely win this imaginary competition.

Chaser scolded himself. "Where are these thoughts coming from?"

Putting on new clothes made Samantha feel better, but not as much as she hoped for. She had no access to soap, shampoo or any sort of personal hygiene products, so the new clothes could only do so much for her. The only option available would be to jump into a river for a rudimentary bath, but that was too dangerous. "I do have a raptor watching over me though," she reasoned. "Nah, he might not stay there the whole time, and there are other predators he wouldn't be able to scare away."

Still, while a full bath was out of question, she could still wash her dirty clothes. If a large predator came, she could get away without much difficulty.

And so, that's exactly what Samantha did. There were plenty of streams on the island, and the labs weren't that far from one. She settled down next to a tree, where she placed her backpack and shotgun, and began washing her used clothes in the cold waters of the stream. Next to her, as always, was Chaser. The large raptor continued to watch over her as if she was the most interesting thing in the world. She would almost be flattered by the attention, if he wasn't such a scary predator.

However, as more evidence of his intelligence had surfaced, his actions were beginning to appear very logical. "He's studying me…" Sam realized. Those intelligent eyes weren't just curious, they were analyzing her just as much as she was doing it to him.

Meanwhile, Chaser was having his own realizations. After witnessing how much time and effort the soft skin dedicated to her things, how she carried them around all the time and was now on the process of washing those strange materials (body coverings maybe? He had to figure out a name to those things), he concluded they were not just a peculiar quirk of her kind, but a fundamental component of her life, much like an extra limb. Although it was questionable just how useful they truly were, as they seemed to require a lot of attention and care for what they provided. Maybe it was more than just practicality, maybe these body coverings also had an aesthetic function.

Personally, he thought she looked better without them. More natural and uniform. He wondered for a moment what she would look like without the body coverings she kept beneath the first layer. Now that he thought about it, why did she wear a second layer?

"Soft skins are weird…" Those words seemed to get her attention.

The more she heard the noises he made, the more it sounded like he was communicating something. To Sam, raptors sounded similar to birds in some ways, which made sense given their evolutionary link. She also knew from both scientific studies and personal experience that they used sounds to communicate. However, no one knew how complex it was, as the Jurassic Park disaster had happened too soon to allow for more extensive studies.

But the way he used those sounds, almost as if commenting on the situation, made her think that together with all the evidence she was finding, there was a lot more to these barks and croons than it appeared at first glance. Could raptors be capable of complex communication? Did they have some sort of language?

Her burning curiosity was too much to ignore.

There was just one problem. How exactly could she test her hypothesis? She was a biologist, not an anthropologist (although in this case an anthropologist would also struggle). The truth was that Sam was not really qualified or experienced to do that.

Still… she couldn't let the opportunity slip. Even if it proved nothing, she had to try to communicate with the raptor!

"Raptor…" She whispered. Sam was becoming tired of calling him that. He wasn't some generic raptor; he was the only one who hadn't tried to kill her. More than that, he was the raptor who saved her. He deserved better than that. He needed a name. But what would she call him?

Bucephalus? No, too complicated and he wasn't like a horse. Charizard? Also no, he may remind her of a dragon, but he was much closer to a bird than a lizard. Plus, a Pokémon name was too childish for her tastes.

She definitely didn't want to give him some generic name like Bob… Bob the raptor, could anyone imagine that?

Thinking a bit about him, Sam remembered how he had eagerly chased her when they first met. He was a determined hunter, so maybe she could name him after that?

"What about Artemis?" She wondered. "No, that's a women's name".

Artemis would be fitting, but maybe there was something else she could use. "He did look pretty awesome fighting that Carnotaurus, didn't he?" Yes, he most certainly did. He looked strong and amazing, the ideal of a predator.

Samantha realized he wasn't just a hunter, he was a fighter, a warrior.

"Ares!" Her shout almost made Chaser bolt from where he sat. He immediately looked at her and saw the soft skin pointing a finger at him and staring with a… weird expression. "What in the world?" He thought to himself.

"That's it, I'll call you Ares!" It was perfect. The Greek god of war.

Chaser still couldn't understand what she was doing. Obviously, it was something important. He had never seen her this… active, except when he had been trying to kill her.

The girl pointed to herself and said "Sam!" and then to the raptor "Ares!". She then remained silent, as if expecting something.

His left eye was twitching. Whenever he thought he had the soft skin figured out, she would do something unexpected. Were all soft skins this complicated?

Clearly, she was saying something about him and herself, as the pointing indicated. Her hands were always very present when she spoke, always moving a bit. It seemed they were a fundamental part of her body expression, which made sense when considering how important they were to manipulate the objects and the world around them.

He looked down at his own hands. His kind didn't need to use them that much. They didn't need to cover themselves in strange materials or carry special weapons to blast their enemies. Even if they wanted, their hands were stiffer and less flexible so he doubted they would be capable of manipulating the world with the same level of precision as the soft skins. However, he could still point at things just as she did.

Okay, but what about the words, what did they mean? As much as it was amusing to watch her, he was becoming frustrated with the lack of communication. He wanted to talk to her, ask things he was curious about. Maybe that's what she was trying to do right now. If that was the case, then he was on the right track.

Chaser might not understand what the words mean, but maybe if he tried hard enough, they could start to work on something. The first step, he realized, would be to just copy what she did, to make her understand he could see what she was doing.

Slowly, he lifted a single claw and pointed at her. The woman seemed frozen at his gesture. He then tried to remember what she had spoken. It was difficult, she had done it too quickly and it wasn't easy to figure out a way to reproduce the sound. His mouth was much different from hers.

After a few seconds thinking about the sound, he tried to speak. "Hhhhaaamm"

It wasn't perfect, but it was a start. Chaser than retreated his claw and placed it on his chest. "Aahhvreeesss"

Samantha was stunned. His words had hit her like a train. Words, that's what they were. He had tried to mimic exactly what she had done. The most shocking thing about it was how his voice had sounded so… familiar. It was no longer the alien and bird like sounds from before, but a deep and understandable voice trying to reproduce her words.

Either raptors were the best mimics on the planet, or he truly was intelligent enough to comprehend what she was trying to do. No matter which was true, she had to keep going.

What was once a fire of curiosity burning inside her had become an exploding star of determination. She was going to teach him and, if possible, learn from him.

And so, that's exactly what Samantha set out to do. As she finished washing her previous set of clothes, she made him repeat basic words like "yes" and "no" to see how capable he was of pronunciation. The results were a bit mixed, for he had trouble with longer words. It seemed his mouth and vocal cords weren't very good at saying multiple syllables in quick succession. Nevertheless, she carried on.

The most difficult part wasn't making him say those words, but how to teach him the meaning behind them. Things like water, earth, trees and other common objects were easy enough. Sam knew he understood the meaning when he began to point out and say the name of things on his own. More and more it felt less like training a bird, and more like teaching a child.

Something that helped a lot was the raptor's patience towards Sam. She was able to make him walk a bit, place things on his hands and pay attention to every word she said. It appeared he was just as willing to learn these things as Samantha was to teach them.

To her surprise, even more abstract concepts like counting from one to ten and understanding the meaning of a zero or nothingness were quick to learn. Differentiating between individuals, the difference between a personal name and a species name, explaining motion and some other things were a bit harder. Chaser struggled to understand the difference between calling her a "Human" (or "huuurrrman", as he tried to say the first time) and just saying "You". However, this was partially due to Sam's own limitations, both in resources and experience.

To Sam, his quick learning could only mean that he already knew some of the meanings she was trying to teach him, as well as the concept of expressing these ideas through sound. This could mean that him and by extend the raptors in general had some sort of language too.

Of course, that idea was proven correct when he began to not only repeat words, but then make a distinct sound and look at her. At first, she was a bit confused, but after a bit of insistence from his part she figured out he wanted her to repeat those sounds, just like he had done with her.

That's when she understood. Those sounds were the equivalent of the English word in his own language… a raptor language!

Sadly, compared to him, she failed miserably on her attempts, but it still seemed to make him excited. The more she tried and, more importantly, the closer she got to a perfect pronunciation, the jumpier and more agitated he became. For once, he was acting like a normal raptor, not having to worry about frightening Sam or getting shot.

This was partially due to the fact Sam wasn't carrying her shotgun with her. In fact, she was almost oblivious to it. Her entire concentration was focused on deciphering the communication gap between the two of them.

For the first time since they had met, the two of them were creating a sense of trust for one another. The gap between the lonely human and the stubborn raptor was slowly dissolving, and a small sense of familiarity was developing in its place.

The two of them carried on with their little experiment for several hours. It wasn't nearly enough to breach even the basics of communication, but it did stablish the very first mutually understood words between them. Now, they finally were getting the tools necessary to transform what had been so far a strange situation into an actual relationship.