hey homies how we doin in this here pandemic? I haven't been able to concentrate for long enough to write more than two words at a time so I'm v sorry that this took forever and it's not even 2k words, also, I live in texas so u can imagine how stressful the last few days have been for me slkdhgsgdhdh It is. 2am as I write these notes and i am very tired so uuuuhhh, good luck trying to read my dyslexic ramblings ig
There's a part of Owen that had feared that distance and time would fade his bond with his pack, or snap it like a rubber band, and that the recoil of having that protective shell around his mind eroded would hurt, would drive him insane. It's with a sense of relief that as the days pass, his connection to the girls stays as strong as it ever was, checking in on each other and reminding them to be on their best behavior to keep from losing the trust of not just Masrani, but pretty much the entire park. As bad as he is with social affairs, he's still aware enough to know that as the raptors grow, so does the wariness of the rest of the park staff, even more so with the addition of Venizia and Roma. Though the knowledge of the raptor part of DNA is supposed to be a secret, it's hard to ignore both the similarity and the ease with which the two integrated into Owen's pack, more so than would be typical even for the family oriented nature of their rex half.
And if it hadn't already been apparent that the other trainers had their reservations about Owen and his control over his pack, then Barry (and Claire) was there to point it out for him, though Barry at least managed not be… sensitive about it, in a way that Claire simply couldn't seem to be.
Owen sniffs. Beside him, Barry's fingers twitch over the log they're semi-hiding behind, eyes rapt on the wild herd of triceratops in front of them. The herbivore group is photographing them, the quiet whir of their expensive cameras much softer than the buzz of the insects gathering on the log and on their clothes and skin. It's early enough that there's still a faint chill from the night, though it won't be long before the tropical sun comes to burn it away and draw out the mosquitoes. Up above, the honey gold of the sky is barely visible through the rustle of the massive tree canopy, sunlight filtering down like water through the tight net of a strainer, staining the bright hides of the triceratops with specks of light.
The grass rustles, another of the herd pushes into the space of the Alpha, not quite challenging yet, but pushing the line enough that the great beast bellows out a low warning, the horn on his nose glistening with threat. The juvenile backs off readily enough, and the faint whispers that filter into Owen's mind past Blue's protection offers the story of an offspring gunning to take the father's position, though perhaps overestimating himself a little too much. An amused grin flickers on Owen's face before he stills again. Somewhere, Blue gives the raptor equivalent of a chortle, and Delta squacks indignantly. Tall grass presses damp dewdrops against the khaki of his pants, high above the protection of his boots, though luckily the material is thick enough that it doesn't itch against his skin.
Another soft camera whir, and the herd passes, their presence marked by the massive prints stomped into earth. They're traveling to a new feeding ground, kicked out of their old one by a rival herd- Owen can practically taste the soreness of the loss on the Alpha. His own juvenile hadn't been the only one to test his mettle as the lead of the herd, and not all of them had backed off so easily, the scars of recent victories stretching into his thick hide, though the limp of the most recent loss is most prominent. Owen does not voice any of these thoughts even after the herd has completely left the short net of Awareness he had thrown around himself.
"Good job, Owen", Barry says, just quietly enough that only he can hear. It had been Owen who'd been tracking down most of their finds, even if it was under the guise of tracking footprints rather than just feeling out the safest places to observe the herbivores. They still have a few more days of doing that before cautiously making their way to the observatories for the carnivores, and the closer they come to that eventuality, the more Owen's nerves rattle, crossing between excited and terrified, though not so much fear that he'll die, hardly that, considering the safety measures that InGen has painstakingly committed to in order to ever be able to send researchers over to the island, even if rarely.
What he fears most is losing himself. His last visit to this island had nearly torn his mind apart, overwhelming and wild and flaying into his brain with a ferocity he had never felt before. There's none of the waves of thoughts from the animals this time around, the island a muted whistle that brushes gently against the barrier of his pack, but even he can't help the instinctual fear of the wild raptors. Owen had integrated into his pack as easily as he had because they had imprinted on him from the moment they had hatched (and if his suspicions are correct, they had been engineered for him specifically), and the young Indomini had sought out the strongest anchor that they could find on the island, and that anchor had been him, using the stability of his pack bond to keep themselves from being lost into a feral madness, not quite as ready as the scientists might have thought.
But the wild raptors are something entirely different.
Owen remembers what it had been like to intrude upon the minds of wolf packs. Those had always been just a little more guarded, not quite inviting Owen in the way other animal minds had, always seeming to be wary by how easily he had slipped into their circle before eventually finding his presence acceptable.
The raptors are like that, but far, far more intense, far more willing to try to eviscerate with every tentative brush of his mind against theirs, fiercely rejecting him as if he were an invader- which he is, really. He's just never been met with such hostility, the wild raptors seeing him as a challenge and a threat, and again, they're not wrong. If he were to break into their bond, it would threaten their stability as a pack, and to be honest Owen understands their wariness, the visceral reaction with which they react to him. Owen wouldn't want anyone to intrude on his pack bond either.
He mentally shakes himself, not having meant to get so lost in his tangle of thoughts, and he can feel Blue's disapproval for letting himself be so vulnerable in such a dangerous place where she can't even protect him. She isn't exactly thrilled to have him so close to another raptor pack either (none of the girls are), and though Blue's managed to keep her composure, both she and Owen can feel the thread of anxiety that is running deep in his pack, trenching deeper with every day that he is away. They don't like it, and frankly neither does he, clinging tightly to his pack bond despite it not showing any signs of slipping away.
"Owen", Barry calls, and Owen glances back at him, wondering how long he'd been stuck in the whirl of his own thoughts. Barry's shoulder bumps against his, grounding the way his pack bond is grounding.
Barry's probably the only human he's ever been able to properly understand, been able to have the sort of connection with that doesn't even really need words because Barry's met him half way, learned to read raptor body language with near the same fluency as himself without even needing the sort of mental connections that Owen is capable of. They're heading off now to their next assignment, Barry heading up the front to lead them to a nearby observation deck while Owen rounds up the back, keeping an eye out for possible dangers as well as keeping the other researchers from wandering off by themselves.
His pack thinks it's funny that they wouldn't just know to stay close, or that Owen or even Barry couldn't just signal them to follow directions and they'd just. Do it. Humans are supposed to be smart, aren't they?
Humans can be dumb sometimes, Owen thinks back at them.
Humans are dumb often, Delta snorts, thinking of the various encounters they had had with humans over the past year as they grew up. Owen… can't argue with that, honestly.
The flicker of small animals brush against his mind, close enough that he's able to feel them, though they don't do very much other than bounce against the pack bond, hardly even a blip on his radar. The biggest thing nearby is a flock of wild tropical birds, and Owen ignores them easily, alert for anything that could be dangerous to the group.
They climb up, one after another, onto a platform, taking another cursory spy around before Barry pulls at the settings and takes the platform up, Owen sighing softly in relief when he finds that it is still relatively soundless, devoid of creaks and groans that could have possibly alerted anything big enough to be a threat to them. The platform was built here after months of research done from the air to make sure that it was relatively "safe", but being too cautious could never be a bad thing on Isla Sorna. The platform rises high above the canopy, letting them peer above the jungle, the sun leaving the sky blisteringly blue.
There's nothing out there for them to observe yet (as far as Owen can tell), and one of the other researchers radios into the other group to call out their location, exactly which platform they're on. They could be up there, waiting for hours, Owen knows, and he's not particularly interested in waiting that long, frowning at the heat that prickles on his skin.
With a glance at the far distance, where the leaves gleam a bleached green, he reaches out carefully, outside the bounds of his pack barrier (much to the squawking disgruntlement of the girls) and gently brushes through the minds of the nearest animals, skipping over jungle fowl and small mammals, ignoring the compies, skittering around the carnivores he ardently wants to avoid, until he finds the herbivores and pulls, as easy as a wave.
He doesn't have to be so aware of the animals around him while up on the platform, so he lets himself relax, watching the lazy procession of brachiosaur swing the top of the jungle to the side as they came closer, rumbling sofly, the blunt, hazy edges of their minds sliding without resistance by his shield, entirely passive and mostly uninterested. It's not that the sight of the wild dinosaurs isn't jaw dropping- even working with them for as long as Owen had couldn't erase the awe that comes with seeing creatures that had lived long before any of them, massive and beautiful and crushing, and the wild ones are much more colorful, their hides mottled with with earthy greens and terra cotta browns that bordered on red, he'd just rather keep alert for other potential threats for when they go back down, though the likelihood of one of the predators going this far out of their territory is unlikely. He does have to take the moment of relative safety to give his girls attention, half-listening to the muttering of the other scientists as they took their notes and pictures.
Still, as eager as Owen is to get back to his pack, though, he's not particularly excited to move from the pan into the fires of Isla Sorna.
song title from Would that I by Hozier
I'll try to get better at updating because i swear this is going somewhere, but also keep in mind that this is a fic that I started when I was 16 and then abandoned for 4 years. Any of the original ideas i had when i was 16 are gone and i am. doing the best i can while also not rereading my own fic bc my 16 year old writing makes me cringe slkahhsg. I am extremely grateful for those of you who have stuck around, and who give me the motivation to keep going despite my crippling writers block (as in, i know what i'm going to write, just not how to write it, so it's harder to get chapters done dksggh). I am trying my best. Anyways i hope this was enjoyable for u, goodnight 3
