Gunnar was the first to sense an incoming attack. Being more in tune with his herbivorous side, he was able to detect the presence of predatory animals by the way the grass rustled, whereas any scent I picked up was immediately categorized as a potential quarry. Even if I had inhaled the musk of the world's most vicious animal, the notion of being its prey wouldn't so much as cross my mind. I was at the top of most food chains, first of all, and second, I was designed to kill anything that crossed my path, regardless of whether or not the odds were stacked against me. It may sound like a recipe for disaster, but that same attitude had allowed me to defeat the monster in the jungle, who had been a great deal larger than me. I was always in predator mode, even if I was the one being hunted. Gunnar, on the other hand, was biologically programmed to view everything as a potential threat. In this case, he had good reason. He lifted his head, pupils shrinking to pinpoints, and rumbled softly, throat wobbling. Before he could flee, he was attacked from the side.

"ROAR!"

He lowed in panic and toppled over, kicking his legs out like he still expected to run. Maisie giggled, sliding down his back.

"Got you!"

Gunnar made a sound that was somewhere between a squeal and a scream, then went limp.

"I don't like this game . . ."

Maisie smiled and patted his triangular cheek bone.

"Don't be afraid. It's just pretend."

He grumbled and stood up on shaky knees.

"Well, my instincts can't tell the difference. Why don't you ever go after Claire?"

"Predators pick off the sick and elderly."

As Gunnar frowned with disapproval, I decided to step in.

"Maisie, that's not very nice . . ."

"I know. Nature isn't nice. It's dangerous and thrilling."

I rolled my eyes.

"No, I meant what you said about Gunnar. Apologize."

"What did I say?" she whined.

"That he's sick and elderly!" I spat back.

"No, I said 'predators pick off the sick and elderly'."

I frowned.

"Thereby implying . . ."

Her mouth hung open.

"Oh, that's not what I meant."

Gunnar sighed.

"It's okay, Maisie, I-"

"Mr. Eversoll isn't sick and elderly. Just elderly."

He winced.

"I'm only fifty . . ."

I crossed my arms (one of the many advantages of being selectively bipedal).

"Maisie . . ."

"Okay, okay. I'm sorry."

"Like you mean it."

Maisie let out an exasperated sigh and turned to Gunnar.

"I'm sorry I called you old, even though it's technically true."

I twisted my beak.

"You know, predators also pick off children, especially when they misbehave."

She shrugged.

"It's okay, Claire," Gunnar sighed, "She's just having a bit of fun. I'd go after me too, if I was the one doing the hunting."

"Well, maybe you can be the T-Rex next time," I suggested, still glaring at Maisie out of the corner of my eye.

"No, that's okay. I'm not designed to be a predator, even if it's pretend. Why don't you take a turn?"

I felt a chill run down my spine.

"Not a good idea."

". . . Oh . . . right . . ."

Maisie glanced at me nervously, then made her way over to Gunnar.

"I-I'm sorry I called you old."

His eyes darted over to me briefly, then he sighed and patted her shoulder.

"That's okay, Maisie. I forgive you."

Maisie looked to me for approval, visibly nervous. I nodded my head to the side.

"Go play. I need to have a private conversation with Mr. Eversoll."

Maisie slunk away hesitantly. Once she was far enough, I turned to Gunnar.

"What am I gonna do with her?"

He snorted.

"You're asking the wrong dinosaur."

I watched as Maisie crouched down to pick dandelions.

"She's been through so much. Owen spoils her to compensate, but it's not fixing anything. She's out of control. But I can't parent her without coming across as a threat, and even without all of this dinosaur stuff getting in my way, I'm barely equipped to raise a child in the first place!"

"Again, I'm not someone you should be coming to for guidance," Gunnar said flatly.

I sighed and plopped myself down on my rump.

"My life is a mess, Gunnar. It would have been hard enough raising Maisie as a human with Owen, but now I'm a vicious predator, and it's ruining everything!"

He shrugged casually.

"You're only half Indoraptor, though, right? Maybe less, since you're part human-"

I stomped my foot.

"What do percentages matter, when I'm actively fighting the urge to kill the people I love!"

He shrunk away.

"I'm sorry. I was just trying to make you feel better."

I pinched my forehead.

"I know, I know . . . I'm sorry. It's just . . . I'm not going to get any better with false praise."

Gunnar frowned.

"Well, I could tell you that you're a bloodthirsty monster, but somehow, I don't think that would help either."

When I didn't respond, he placed his front foot on my shoulder.

"Claire, I can recognize self-loathing when I see it. Believe me, it doesn't make things any easier. I know it's tempting to think the worst of yourself, because you're afraid that those hang-ups might be true, but feeding your insecurities doesn't lead to growth. It just gets you stuck in a bog of unhappiness. You mistakenly believe that validating the things you hate about yourself puts you on top, but what you're really doing is letting yourself sink. I know that on some level, you want to hear me say that you're a monster, because it would confirm your anxieties, but that's not self-awareness. It's self-harm."

I looked away. He nudged my side with his front horn.

"Claire, I know what it's like to be an outcast. Maybe not in the same way you are, but similar. The thing is, even if what people say about you is true to some degree, affirming flaws only cements them into your being."

I shook my head stubbornly.

"That's not true. You need to recognize your flaws to overcome them."

"We both know that that's not what you're doing. You're going out of your way to seek out insults that validate your worst fears, but you're not doing so in the name of constructive criticism. You already know that you have a problem, and repeating that fact is making you internalize it as a fundamental part of your being."

"But I was designed to be-"

"Bullshit. None of us are designed to be anything. Even if you're predisposed to violence, that doesn't make it who you are. If you were destined to forever be a killer, I wouldn't be talking to you right now. We've been grazing together every day for the past week, and I'm still here to tell the tale."

I glared at him.

"Gunnar, I've been struggling not to pounce on you, these seven days."

"And you haven't done it."

"No, but I-"

"Claire, you can obviously control these impulses to some degree, which at the very least means your desire to be violent is lesser than your desire to be good."

"Aren't you scared that I have these thoughts in the first place?"

He was. I could literally smell his fear. I was ready to call him out for lying to me, but instead . . .

"Of course I'm scared. My instincts tell me that you're a threat. You're genetically linked to the animal that killed me. And I know that you're ready to snap at any given moment."

He was right: that was exactly what I wanted to hear. But it didn't make me feel any better, of course.

"If you're afraid, why are you still here?" I whispered.

"Same reason you are. We're better than we think we are. Your instincts tell you to kill, my instincts tell me to run, but we fight them all the same. You're a predator, I'm prey, but neither of us has acted like that's the case since we met. And lastly, I'm still here because- strong though my fear may be- my trust is stronger. I know you won't hurt me, Claire, and you know you won't hurt me, but you want to believe that you could hurt me because you're afraid it's true. You're more terrified of you than I am."

Those words cut deep, but not in a hurtful way. I swallowed and sat back on my haunches.

"You're right."

"I know."

"I'm sorry. I've underestimated you."

"Happens all the time."

I cocked my head.

"Gunnar, you've been a better friend than I deserve."

"First of all, we're friendly acquaintances. Second, you deserve better."

I quirked a brow.

"You know, for all your talk of self-improvement, you still haven't mustered up the courage to leave this meadow."

"Hey, I'm here to fix your problems, not mine."

I smiled.

"Well, maybe I can help you in return."

He turned away abruptly.

"Thanks for the offer, but I'm happy here."

He ripped up a mouthful of grass in an attempt to put an end to the conversation.

"Gunnar . . ."

He let the cud drop.

"Look, maybe later, okay? I'm not ready."

"Are you just telling yourself that because-"

He wheeled around and looked up at me with eyes that reflected a shocking amount of vulnerability.

"Claire, I have a lot to think about. I'm trying to work through this as best I can, but I'm not sure if it's even right to try. You're not responsible for what happened to you, but my role in enabling the Indoraptor's escape led to a lot of suffering, and people are right to blame me for that."

"I haven't heard anyone blame you . . ."

"They would, if they knew."

"Are you sure that's not just your anxiety talking?"

He froze up.

"I . . . No. Maybe. I don't know. But whether or not the responsibility falls on my shoulders, I can't allow myself to be around the people who were affected by my actions, for their own comfort and safety."

"But what if they don't blame you for what happened?"

"Why wouldn't they? I enabled Eli's plans. That puts me at fault, at least partly. I never intended to be the villain, but that's what I became in my complacency. My actions led to several deaths, including my own. People suffered because of me, and they're not going to forgive me for that, let alone invite me into their community."

"Yes, they will."

"How could you possibly-"

I gestured to my body.

"I'd count myself as one of the victims of the Indoraptor. I am fully aware of what your role was in the incident, and I forgive you all the same."

His throat wobbled.

"But you're different."

"How?"

"No one else will welcome me with open arms."

"How do you know?"

"Because that's not what I deserve."

I tapped my toe.

"It kind of sounds like you're stuck in that swamp you mentioned earlier."

"Bog."

I quirked a brow.

"One wrong word doesn't make me any less right."

He snorted.

"If I'd known you'd throw that back at me, I wouldn't have brought it up . . ."

"Gunnar, don't torture yourself."

"Grazing all day is hardly torture."

"You know what I mean. Come back with me. I'm sure Moonwatcher would gladly provide housing-"

"I'll think about it."

"That's a weak answer."

He glowered at me bitterly.

"And it's the only one you're getting. I'd rather not talk about this right now, thanks."

"But someday?"

"Maybe."

"Soon?"

"Your kid's back."

I noticed Maisie hobbling down the hill. She paused, wondering if she was interrupting our adult conversation.

"It's okay, Maisie, you can come down now," I called.

She shuffled over with her hands behind her back.

"I thought about what I said, and I really am sorry for being so rude."

"That's okay, pumpkin," Gunnar replied with exhaustion, "I know you didn't intend any harm."

She held out a clump of dandelions.

"I made you a bouquet."

"That's sweet of you."

He took the weeds in his beak, chewing slowly as Maisie stroked his snout.

"I found a drawing of an Agathaumas in my dinosaur encyclopedia, and it only has one horn on its nose. Why do you have two?"

"I'm a hybrid."

"But iguanodons don't have horns . . ."

"Maybe I'm part rhinoceros."

Maisie laughed.

"Can we play dinosaurs again?"

I groaned.

"Maisie, why can't you play horses like all the other girls? . . ."

"I like dinosaurs better."

I smiled with nostalgia.

"You know, when I was your age, I had a pony doll called Scoops."

"That's SO weird."

I jumped in surprise. Moonwatcher was standing right next to me.

"What the hell?! Where did you-"

"The other Claire's childhood pony was Lickety-Split, which means this is yet another point of divergence between our universes. Just like the lizard thing."

Moonwatcher was referring to me being spooked by lizards. Apparently, Stegoceratopses tended to have an irrational fear of specific small animals. The other Claire I kept hearing about was spooked by snakes. I was spooked by lizards. This part of me was strictly saurian, since I had kept a pet lizard for a good many years, no problem. Now, however, the thought of her made me want to rear up on my hind legs, which was an exceptionally cruel turn of fate. As much as I disliked my Indoraptor side, the Stegoceratops part of me wasn't a point of pride by any stretch of the imagination.

"Sorry to disappoint you, but I am my own person, you know. I'm sure the other Claire was nice, but-"

"We'll never fill the void she left behind, I know."

Not exactly what I was getting at, but I wasn't in the mood to correct her.

"I think I'm done grazing for the day."

"Cool. Are you gonna walk Maisie home?"

"Yes."

"Unsupervised?"

Ouch.

I hummed.

"Actually, I was thinking Gunnar could-"

I turned, but he was already gone. He chewed cud in the distance, back turned to me. I was fairly certain he'd done that on purpose.

"Yes, unsupervised," I conceded, "I can handle it."

"Great! And if not, we always have the technology to cl-"

"Goodbye, Moonwatcher."

***TSJWFKFEW***

I got Maisie home safely, of course. I hope you didn't suspect otherwise.

I did, however, make the mistake of opening her window to let some air in, and she wasted no time slamming it shut and locking the bolts. She told me that she didn't want anything dangerous to get in, which was kind of funny, since the most ferocious predator known to man was standing right beside her. I didn't point that out, however, and instead assured her that we'd play again tomorrow, if there was time. She hugged my neck and told me that she loved me, and I said the same. It was always difficult leaving her like this, but I knew she was safe in Owen's hands, at the very least. He met me in the hallway, waving to Maisie before closing the door for another adult conversation. Since our little darling was prone to eavesdropping, we moved down the hall.

"You weren't in the meadow when I got there."

Uh-oh.

"Were you expecting to meet me?"

"I wasn't expecting you to walk her back alone."

I didn't like where this was going.

"Oh. I'm sorry. Zia and Franklin were doing their own thing, and Moonwatcher was being Moonwatcher, so-"

"You could have waited for me."

I flinched at his tone.

"I . . . I didn't feel the need to."

"So I gathered."

I laughed nervously.

"Owen, I'm a big girl. I can handle myself."

"You know that's not the issue, here."

My heart twisted into knots.

"Oh, come on, Owen! You know I wouldn't-"

As he glared at me through those three claw-marks, I realized that he had a point. I lowered my head in defeat.

"I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

"No, it won't. You're to wait for an escort, whether it be me, Zia, Franklin, or Moonwatcher. Otherwise, stay where you are. If there's an emergency, have that grey dinosaur walk you to the nearest phone."

"I'm not sure he would-"

"Or have him watch Maisie and go get help yourself. I don't care what you do, as long as you're not alone with her."

Seeing my distress, Owen's face softened.

"I'm only trying to protect her. You know I trust you, but we can't take any chances."

My voice was shaky.

"I understand."

"Alright. This isn't anything personal, Claire, so-"

I lifted my head.

"I know, and you're absolutely right. I shouldn't have done what I did. I didn't mean to scare you. I'll be more mindful next time."

He scratched behind my ear.

"That's a good girl. And just for the record, I wasn't scared. I was concerned."

I didn't reply. He patted my cheek pleasantly.

"I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

"Yeah . . . see you tomorrow . . ."

I wasn't allowed to walk Maisie home alone, apparently, but Owen had no problem sending me back to the lab by myself. That was fine by me, because halfway down the road, I started crying. This earned me a few concerned glances from passing dinosaurs, but they knew better than to interfere. All except two, that is. Zia and Franklin saw me in my sorry state and rushed over to provide emotional support.

"You okay, honey?" Zia cooed.

I shook my head, gasping for air.

"You wanna talk about it?"

"Owen doesn't trust me," I croaked.

She clicked her tongue.

"Oh, sweetheart . . ."

"I know he has good reason to be suspicious of me, but-"

Zia held my shoulders as I wiped my nose, sniffling.

"Honey, I know it's hard, but we trust you. Right, Franklin?"

"Yup!"

Besides the fact that he said it through a clenched smile, Franklin's words were undercut by the reek of fear that wafted from his direction. Although the smell was always present on him, whenever I was near, it was thick enough to warrant a butter knife.

"Owen just doesn't understand you, but take it from a fellow carnivore: you're in good company."

"You're not a full carnivore," Franklin snuffed.

Zia rolled her eyes.

"Franklin, I am just as much a carnivore as Claire is, and you are too, for that matter. It's just basic math. Aren't you supposed to be good with numbers?"

"Computing isn't the same as math."

"Alright, but I'm also a veterinarian, so I know my animals . . ."

I twisted my beak.

"Hey, did you ever figure out why you ended up the way you did?"

"As a hybrid, you mean? Well, I suppose I got the iguanodon stuff from a fossilized toe I used to have, and I also owned a megalodon tooth, so that's two parts down. I was bitten by a golden retriever that went after Kizzy, once, but I'm not sure why I'm not part cat, since I was around her more. It doesn't seem to make much sense, and I wish I had just ended up as a brachiosaur. They're my favorite."

"Your neck is kind of long . . ."

"Thank you!"

I turned to Franklin.

"So what about you? What happened there?"

He stared at me flatly.

"Part raptor because of Blue's blood, part sinoceratops because Owen got licked by one before sleeping next to me, and part horse because the Universe hates me."

"Makes sense."

"It really doesn't."

I shrugged.

"Well, whatever the reason for your . . . bodies . . . you're both pretty cool. Not because of the dinosaur stuff. Just because you're the best friends I could ever hope for, and you've always been there for me when I need you."

"And we always will be," Zia asserted.

Although I wasn't as large as the Indoraptor had been, my arms were long enough to wrap around both of them in a hug.

"What would I do without you? . . ."

"Watch Netflix all day?" Zia suggested.

"Find cooler people to hang out with?" Franklin speculated.

I gave him a noogie.

"You know I prefer dorks."

Zia snorted.

"Honestly, who needs Owen? You're way to cool for him anyway."

My smile disappeared.

"Well . . ."

"There are plenty of beefy blondes who will treat you better than he does."

I shook my head.

"It's not his fault. It's just hard interacting with him, being the way I am right now. He has to be my boyfriend AND my personal trainer."

"So you two are still dating for sure, then?"

Hearing those words was like walking into a glass door. I blinked.

"I . . . I mean, we were kind of dating before, right? . . ."

"Well, you two broke up a while back, but you did get back together after that whole ordeal, right?"

Did we?

"Um . . . We- Wait, we kissed! We kissed in the dinosaur display, and it was good."

"So you were together after that."

"Yes! Kind of."

Franklin batted his eyes.

"What do you mean 'kind of'? You were about to raise a child together, right?"

I don't think I had grasped the full extent of my communication problems with Owen until that moment. Yes, we had intended to do exactly what Franklin said, but it was all subtext, an unspoken agreement. That was the problem. Unspoken agreements are nebulous enough to allow doubt, and I could neither confirm nor deny that Owen and I were still partners, per se. I was pretty sure that we were, but also, he had been treating me like a pet as of late- which, fair enough, I was a dinosaur- but also, that wasn't exactly in balance with the whole . . . romance thing. It wasn't like I expected him to say, "Hello, Claire. We are boyfriend and girlfriend, officially," but some explicit discussion would be nice. I had worked my way up to kissing him on the mouth again- which sounded weird when I ran it over in my head- but I just assumed that becoming a dinosaur meant we would have to establish new boundaries. What if the real reason I feared intimacy was because our relationship was so ambiguous? . . .

. . . No, it was definitely the fact that I had a beak and horns.

But also, I wasn't too happy with how vague our situation seemed to be. I was pretty sure that he was still interested in a serious relationship, at least, but where were we on that spectrum, currently? Going by a common analogy, we had made it to third base, only to discover that the field had been paved over and converted into a basketball court. What were the rules, now that I was a dinosaur?

Also, oh god, I was a dinosaur now.

I hadn't thought about what this meant, aside from the whole murder-urge angle, but my body was an absolute train wreck, and I wasn't even sure that Owen was still attracted to me. I mean, he might only be offering scraps of affection in the hope that it would tide me over until I was human again, but how far were we allowed to go while I was still a dinosaur?

How far would he even want to go?

Looking down at my body, I suddenly wanted to vomit. Why was I still flirting with Owen when I was the size and shape of a hippo? Had I been making him uncomfortable this whole time? Was he just too polite to say anything? I was pretty sure I'd smelled attraction on him a couple of times, but he could have been imagining me as a human, or else focusing on what was left of my usual personality.

Oh, god.

And then there was that time he called me "Blue" by accident during training.

"Claire? . . . You okay? . . ." Zia asked.

I gulped.

"I . . . I think I've been coercing Owen into bestiality."

"Um . . . it happens to the best of us? . . ." she joked, shrugging awkwardly.

The three of us screamed as Moonwatcher dropped down from the tree above us.

"Actually, since you're a sentient being, it doesn't count as bestiality. That being said, I advise you to take it slow with Owen. Have you seen any of the Saw movies?"

I pulled my head back.

"What does that have to do with-"

"You know how there's that one trap where you bleed into a cup to get through it? Like, it won't release you until you've filled it up with a certain amount of fluid?"

"I have NO idea what you're talking about. And what the hell does this have to do with-"

"Don't have sex with Owen."

After a pause, I covered my mouth with horror. Moonwatcher gave a little salute and skipped away.

"Stay safe!"

Zia watched her leave, then turned back to me.

"I know I shouldn't be saying this, but that's pretty metal."

I cringed.

"Oh my god . . ."

Zia patted my head.

"Don't worry, Claire. There are TONS of weird couples on this island. I'm sure they'll find a way to make you compatible with Owen."

"I don't want- Wait, no, I . . ."

I sighed.

"Forget it."

Zia shrugged helplessly.

"It's up to you."

I groaned, falling onto my side.

"Why is everything so weird? . . . Oh, Zia, I heard that women can get other women pregnant here!"

She smiled.

"Maybe it's not so different from our world after all . . ."

I blinked.

"What?"

She chuckled.

"Oh, Claire. Sweet, naïve Claire. We're going to have a talk someday. For now, let's get you home."

I gave Franklin a questioning look, but he seemed about as lost as I was.

Maybe it was just a Zia thing.

***TSJWFKFEW***

I don't know the true significance of dreams, but one theory suggests that they allow us to make sense of our day. That may very well be true, because I tend to bring those experiences with me whenever I enter Dreamland.

What I'm getting at is that I had a very intimate fantasy about Owen that night.

I won't go into all the dirty details, but it started off very nice, until my usual bloodlust tainted the story with some very unhealthy imagery, and I woke up feeling like I needed to take a shower. Partly, anyway. The other half of me was still kind of turned on, in a horrific, not-at-all-normal way.

But these feelings subsided when I noticed Eli twitching beside me. Whatever he was dreaming about, it was at least as troubling as my own fantasy. I lay back down, somewhat pleased that he wasn't getting a good night's sleep either, but soon, I found myself adopting the same look of distress that contorted his face. Call it empathy, I suppose, but I wasn't enjoying the spectacle of his pain, and this is coming from me, remember. His snout slid from side to side, and he scrunched up his eyes as he muttered something under his breath. For once, his sneer of anger had been replaced with a concerned frown, to the point where he almost looked afraid. I'm not sure I preferred this to how he usually presented himself. Gradually, he grew still, but after a moment, he tensed up, shaking even more noticeably than before. Suddenly, he bolted upright with a loud gasp, eyes wide and frantic. My first instinct was to shut my eyes and pretend to be asleep, but I'm not sure he would have noticed me anyway. He stared ahead with the same wide eyes, mouth parted slightly. His breathing slowed, and he finally slipped out of his trance, resting his chin on the ground.

I'm not sure what his nightmare was about, but I could guess. Moonwatcher had shown me footage of his death- I didn't ask where she got it, because . . . Well, it was Moonwatcher- and while it was as horrific a death as he deserved, I took no joy in watching it.

Well, okay, I took a little joy in watching it, but only because I was imagining myself doing the same thing to someone else.

Wait, nevermind. That's not a good defense.

Anyway, the Indoraptor part of me was delighted by the brutal savagery he had endured (as was Moonwatcher, apparently, which was super concerning . . . "There goes his leg! That's gnarly!" . . . Blech.), but the Claire part of me believed that no living person should have to endure that kind of torment, even if that person was Eli Mills. I didn't feel bad for him, per se, but I didn't think it was right that that had happened to him, if that makes any sense.

And no, I'm not going to tell Maisie what happened, and I'm especially not going to tell Eli how the dinosaurs escaped.

I was ready to drift off again, but an unexpected sound caught my attention. I opened my eyes a crack to make sure I wasn't imagining things, but sure enough, Eli was shaking softly, taking short and frantic breaths that I recognized all too well. I had spent a good many nights crying myself to sleep, and I knew the sound of someone trying to hold back tears. And no tears came. Not at first, anyway. He simply bit his lip and sniffled quietly, afraid that he might wake one of us. We had been ridiculing him without mercy, and ammo like this . . . Well, it would hurt more than the regular jabs. Aside from the fact that whatever was upsetting him clearly had a deep, personal significance, he had built himself up as precisely the kind of person who would NOT be seen showing this kind of vulnerability, and if he was caught in the act, it would all be downhill from there.

So he wept in gasps that he could barely manage to hold back, sometimes scrunching his eyes shut and whimpering softly. On one such occasion, he managed to squeeze an actual tear out of his eye, or at least whatever passed for tears in his vehicular body. The blue droplet cut down his cheek, and soon after, it was joined by more. When the fluid began to pour down freely, something bizarre happened. Eli's eyebrows flipped upside-down and began scraping the bags under his eyes. They were, in fact, tiny windshield wipers. I should have found this funny. Here was my greatest enemy, breaking his facade of cold composure as his plastic eyebrows squeaked back and forth across neon fluid that made him look like he was wearing runny, blue mascara . . . but I didn't so much as smile. My heart, in fact, was full of pity, and maybe even compassion. Gunnar and I had redeemed ourselves to some degree by agreeing to do whatever was necessary to make amends, but we both had something in common with Eli. The three of us were sad, lonely dinosaurs, all sinking in that goddamn bog, convinced that there was nothing to be done about it, except to admit that we were sinking, taking satisfaction in this knowledge as the muck pulled us under. After all, villainy was our nature . . . or so we thought. We adhered to this pessimistic belief by asserting our monstrosity in small acts. By banging a gavel. By snapping at a piglet. By holding onto a stolen rib like it was the only available option. And to us, it was. How could there be any road besides the path of least resistance? How could there be any way out of the bog, except sinking? We couldn't pull ourselves out, and we certainly weren't about to grab each other. And so we let ourselves sink, little by little, every time we acted on the worst parts of our nature. And yes, it was our choice to do so, but to us, it seemed inevitable. Rather, we hoped it was. Because if we somehow managed to walk away, to hold back, to make another choice . . . Well, that was even scarier than sinking. It would prove us wrong, and that just wasn't allowed. If there was any indication that we might be capable of change, that we weren't inherently monstrous, then we would have to face the fact that our mistakes, our shortcomings, our failures, everything that we were ashamed of . . . was our own fault, rather than the product of some insurmountable nature. And then we'd have to face the consequences of our actions, the people we hurt . . . and admit that that was on us. And once that realization set in, we'd have to go on living alongside our victims, knowing that no matter how many good decisions we made from this point onwards, we would be seen as monsters. Not because we were monsters, but because at one point, we had chosen to be.

***TSJWFKFEW***

The next day, Moonwatcher entered the lab holding something that looked an awful lot like a large jawbone.

"Hey, Claire! Check out this large jawbone!"

Ah.

She held it in front of my face.

"Sniff."

I took in the scent, scrunching up my nose in confusion.

"It smells like . . . me, but not me . . . and like Owen?"

She raised her eyebrows.

"You're pretty good at this."

I wasn't sure how that made sense. Plus, I wasn't always accurate in my assessments. The lab had a somewhat Maisie-ish smell to it, but she hadn't been in this building since the door incident.

"This jaw belonged to the original Owen," Moonwatcher explained, "For a brief period of time, he was an Indominus Rex. He got into a fight with Henry Wu, and this little baby got slapped off, beard and all."

I wasn't even going to try to parse that information.

"Why did you bring it here?"

"It might help you recognize Owen as your alpha."

I scoffed.

"Owen is NOT my alpha."

"Dom, then?"

"What, like Dom DeLuise?"

Moonwatcher blinked.

"Well, I'm never going to get that image out of my head. Listen, Claire, ever since you clawed up his face, he's been trying to figure out where he went wrong. Can't you at least try to play along with his efforts?"

I batted my eyes.

"Owen wasn't at fault, Moonwatcher. I was the one who lashed out."

"Yeah, well, either way, he has a lot of baggage. He came to me yesterday for new ideas, and this is all I've got."

I cocked my head.

"He came to you?"

"Wow, rude."

I shook my head.

"No, what I meant was . . . I don't know. I just got the sense that he had things figured out. He seemed really sure of himself."

Moonwatcher snorted.

"Well, that's obviously a front to conceal his secret fear that he's failing you. I'm not sure what happened yesterday, but you really got him spooked."

I sighed.

"Well, I made a bad decision, and-"

"He was really upset when he came a-knocking. Wouldn't shut up about how he'd really blown it, how he was fucking things up . . . 'I just wanted her to feel like I had things under control,' he said, 'But I think I really hurt her, and now I don't know how to make things right.' And then he went into a long, boring tangent about how he was afraid that this wasn't the first time he'd sent you away crying-"

"He saw me crying?!"

"Oh, yes. He was going to bring you a cellphone for pick up and drop off planning, but I think he smartened up and realized that he was being an abusive little shit, and abandoned that idea."

Oh, Owen . . .

"He's toying with the idea of letting you be alone with Maisie, but he also doesn't want to go back on his decision, since it would undermine his authority or whatever, but if you ask me, asserting his dominance was what got him into trouble in the first place . . ."

I was suddenly beginning to understand a lot of things. It was like someone had shone a spotlight into the abyss. And holy hell, it was Moonwatcher helping me, of all people . . .

"I mean, literally all he does is try to act like he's your big, strong protector, but he should know by now that you don't need that, and it's actively putting a strain on your relationship. He really needs to back off a little and stop trying to impress you."

My breath was caught in my throat.

"Owen's just as scared as I am."

Moonwatcher glowered at me.

"Yeah. Obviously. Did you seriously not know that? I'm pretty sure he's said so explicitly. I can check the text, if you-"

"I want to see him."

"You haven't even had breakf-"

"I want to find him and hold him in my arms and tell him that I love him."

"Jesus, you're needy."

"I need to make things right with him. No more half-truths. No more unclear boundaries."

"Yeah, alright, just don't go playing 'hide the sausage', because it might end up in a meat-grinder, if you know what I'm-"

I tapped the keypad and shot out the door, leaving Moonwatcher behind.

"YOU GUESSED THE PASSWORD AGAIN?!" she barked.

"It was the same one, but backwards!" I called over my shoulder.

Moonwatcher cursed under her breath as I bounded down the hall, heading towards the love of my life.

***TSJWFKFEW***

On my way out of the lab, I bumped into Zia, who was bouncing up and down with excitement.

"Claire, guess what?!"

"Zia, I'm kind of in the m-"

"I HAVE ELECTRIC POWERS!"

That made me screech to a halt.

"Electric powers?" I asked with interest.

She nodded, biting her beak with glee.

"Mhm. I discovered them last night. Wanna see?"

I didn't particularly want to. I had . . . kind of a thing with electricity.

"Maybe some other time."

Seeing the look of disappointment on her face, I changed my mind.

"Alright, but make it quick."

She stepped back and closed her eyes. When she opened them again, they were glowing. Her hair began to bristle, and yellow freckles spread across her face. As she crackled with static, her hair straightened into a bizarre lightning rod. I marvelled at this unexpected development, but snapped out of my reverie when someone called my name.

"CLAIRE!"

Thunderous footsteps shook the earth around me. Without warning, Gunnar leapt through the air and tackled Zia to the ground.

"Hey!"

I watched in horror as he head-butted her aggressively, clenching his teeth because of the bolts frying his scales.

"Get away from her, you-"

BAM!

They fell apart, both smoking. Gunnar stumbled to his feet, swaying dizzily.

"You leave my friend alone! . . . Both of you . . ."

His eyes were crossed. I held him up as he toppled forward.

"Gunnar, what are you doing?"

"Saving you from the shark-lady . . . Why?"

I bit my lower beak.

"Oh, Gunnar. This is my friend, Zia. She was just showing me her electric powers."

His eye twitched.

"Oh. So you're not in danger?"

Zia coughed, hair still fizzling.

"Not from me."

She began licking a cut on her wrist. Gunnar covered his front horn, which was stained red.

"Oh, no . . ."

I gulped.

"I think there's been a misunderstanding."

Gunnar shook his head quickly.

"I messed up, I messed up . . . I should have stayed in my meadow . . ."

"Why are you here?" I asked, "Is everything okay?"

"I-I was thinking about what you said, and I thought I'd go looking for Moonwatcher-"

He choked.

"Nevermind. It's too late."

He turned to run, but I caught him just in time.

"Hey, hey, hey. Don't go. You made a mistake, that's all. We understand."

He went limp in my arms, hanging like a cat. I turned him around so that he was facing Zia. She frowned.

"Hi."

"I'm sorry," he whispered, "I thought Claire was in danger."

After a pause, Zia shrugged.

"I probably did more damage, anyway. You look pretty fried up."

He hummed. Zia slapped his shoulder.

"Honest mistake. All is forgiven."

He lifted his head a little.

"Really? . . ."

"Mhm. I don't blame you for trying to protect Claire. She's pretty cool."

His mouth hung open.

"That, she is."

I set him down in the grass.

"Hey, Gunnar."

"Yeah?"

"You didn't run away."

"No, I didn't."

"And you called me a friend."

He narrowed his eyes.

"It's short for 'friendly acquaintance'."

Zia laughed.

"You're really weird. But you have good taste in friends, so I think we'll get along just fine."

She held out her paw, which he shook, after a pause.

"I'm Gunnar."

"Zia. You live around these parts?"

He shot a smile in my direction.

"Actually, I was thinking of moving in."

My heart glowed with pride and hope, seeing them getting along like that. I can't tell you how it felt, but if you've been paying attention, you might understand how much it meant to me. And what it meant for me. I suddenly found the confidence to believe that things could get better, that I would get better. Hard as it is to pull yourself out of the bog, as long as you have friends, you never have to worry about getting stuck for too long.

My joy increased tenfold when I saw Owen jogging towards me. Without skipping a beat, I dashed forward and flung my arms around him, lifting him off the ground in a warm embrace.

"Owen!"

"Claire, what's going on?" he mumbled through my arm.

"Owen, I just wanted to say that I love you."

"I love you too, Claire. What's this about?"

I nuzzled his hair.

"I want to be completely and totally honest with you. No more ambiguity. No more bog."

"Bog?"

"I want the truth, and nothing in between."

He frowned with puzzlement.

"Okay? Sure?"

I set him down and took a deep breath.

"Are we boyfriend and girlfriend?"

"No."

Do you know what it's like to feel the world stop turning, to have everything you think you know shatter into a billion pieces? I do. It's a rare experience that I've only felt a handful of times. I felt it when my sixth grade music teacher died in a car crash. I felt it on September Eleventh. I felt it when the Indominus escaped, but I felt it even more when Owen uttered that single word. I tried to make sense of it. Surely, he was leading up to something like, "No, we're so much more . . ." or "No, but I want to be." Hell, I'd even take, "No, because after today, you'll be my fiancée."

But that's not what I got.

"We're not really in a good place right now. It's not responsible to put that kind of label on what we have going between us. I mean, you are a dinosaur."

And then the agony set in. I couldn't stop the tears from trickling down my cheeks. Owen looked up at me with worry.

"I thought you knew . . ."

I whipped around and sprinted towards the lab. Owen called after me, but his words were wasted. My ears were ringing. I couldn't even hear myself sobbing, though I could tell that I was crying fiercely, based on my blurred vision.

I finally made it back to the lab. I burst through the doors, and wasting no time, locked myself in my cage before collapsing to the floor and curling up in a ball. Eli, who had been drinking his morning gasoline, watched the whole thing with surprise.

"Claire? . . ."

I was sobbing loudly, but I didn't care. Everything was over for me. If there had been a bridge nearby, I would have flung myself over the railing.

"Claire, are you okay?"

I didn't answer. Eventually, he lost interest in me, turning away awkwardly. I barely noticed.

I thought I was free from the bog, but that was the day I started to drown.