Six months.

It had been six months since Claire left the island. Since then, she hadn't had any contact with her family or friends, nor anyone else, for that matter. Now and then, she had brushes with civilization, passing small towns or sleeping near farms in the hope of avoiding wild animals. She had almost been shot, once, during a raid on one such location. The cold weather had been hard on her, and she had been so desperate for food that she had attempted to bring down a cow to feed herself. She was successful in the killing, but had to leave the meat behind when she was caught. It was a waste of energy, and it had put her in danger of being caught, which she considered even worse than being killed. Anyway, she had found a rotting elk carcass afterwards, which gave her enough energy for another hunt, poor as the meat was. Between the lack of fresh grass and the scarcity of prey, she was barely scraping by, but she was alive, and that was something, at least.

She spent her days stripping bark from trees and tracking small game in the snow. At night, she would find a hidden-away place, sometimes a cave, but more often than not, the base of a tree, shivering in her makeshift shelter until morning. She tried not to think of home, because for all intents and purposes, she did not have one now. Whatever had happened to Maisie and Owen, it didn't concern her, and they were probably better off without her in their lives, anyway. Still, there were times when she couldn't help but imagine their smiling faces, and remember the warmth of their touch, and wonder why they were so far apart. But she knew the answer, and instead of running back to them, she simply cried herself to sleep.

There were times when Claire considered going back, but never for long. She could not allow herself to think of her family, or she might be tempted to return, and what then? She did not belong in that life, comfortable though it may be. Harsh as this new existence was, she was at least in her element.

One afternoon, she stalked a deer that was standing in a wide clearing. She had little cover, being black-scaled on a sunlit field of snow, but if she stayed downwind and kept close to the ground, she could make a dash for it.

As she drew near, the doe lifted her head, scanning the frosty landscape for danger. As soon as her eyes fell on Claire, she bolted, but she wasn't fast enough. The animal yipped as she clamped her teeth around its throat, and the white snow became decidedly less so. As the deer struggled to breathe, Claire lowered her head, tears brimming in her eyes.

"I'm sorry . . . I'm sorry . . ."

Gradually, it stopped kicking, and Claire found herself standing over a lifeless body. She suddenly wasn't very hungry, but she forced herself to eat, or this stolen life would go to waste.

It was surprising how little she enjoyed killing, now, and she wasn't sure why this change had overcome her senses. Perhaps having an outlet for her thoughts made the novelty of a kill seem banal. Perhaps she was more focused on her own survival, instead of some leisurely form of violence. Most likely, she was just growing tired of it all, and this particular joy had departed from her life along with all the others.

That night was colder and windier than any she had ever lived through. She shivered under a needle-bare tree, curled in a tight ball of frost-bitten scales. Tears streamed down her face, making paths of ice. She barely noticed. She had taken to remembering the way things used to be, and the ache in her heart overpowered the sting of the cold. She couldn't stop thinking about how Maisie lit up when she saw her coming, how grateful she was to have a mother. And she remembered, in turn, how happy she was to have a daughter, and how no other person had brought as much love into her life as that little girl.

She could feel her heart weakening. She was on the verge of going back, though she didn't know which way to travel, nor where she was situated, in general. As hopelessness set in, so too did the realization that she could not allow herself to go back, not when her family had been living without her for so long.

Slowly, Claire got to her feet and wandered up the side of a lonely mountain. She stopped at the edge of a steep cliff.

This was the end for her. No one would miss a creature so vile. She was an animal . . . No, that wasn't true. She was barely even a real dinosaur. She was nothing. She was less than nothing. She might as well not exist. Soon, she wouldn't.

Slowly, she inched towards the cliff, claws dangling over the side. She looked down. Long fall, little chance of survival. Perfect. She leaned forward.

"You don't want to do that."

She gasped, stumbling backwards. A glowing figure was standing beside her.

"You're . . . You're me!"

"In a way, I suppose, but we are not the same person."

She caught her breath.

"You're the other Claire . . ."

She shrugged.

"To me, you're the other Claire."

"What are you doing here?"

She gestured at the cliff with her massive, feathered wing.

"I'm here to stop you from making a huge mistake, one that I nearly made many years ago. Look, there, in the valley. What do you see?"

Claire squinted. She could make out a dark shape in the snow.

"I see . . . a cabin. A whole ranch, it looks like."

"This was my home. It belongs to no one, now. If ever you find yourself in need of shelter, remember this place."

Claire lowered her head.

"I . . . I don't think I'll ever have a use for it."

"If you live, you will. And you will live."

"How do you know?"

She folded her wing against her body.

"I know many things. I know what scares you most. I know why you decided to leave. Most importantly, I know what's in your heart, and I know that you would never leave your family behind."

"They'll be fine without me."

"Perhaps, but none of you truly wants this."

"I do."

She nodded.

"In this moment, it may seem that way, but you're forgetting that there is so much more that you have yet to experience."

"Not for long."

As she prepared to take the leap, she shut her eyes, leaning back. After a pause, her eyes fluttered open again.

"Aren't you going to try to stop me? I mean, I'm not saying I want you to, but I figured since you came all this way-"

"You're free to choose."

". . . Oh."

"Is something wrong?"

"This . . . This feels like a trick."

"No tricks. You can end your life, if that's what you really want, but I don't think it is."

"Well, what do you know about me?" Claire muttered bitterly.

"Quite a lot. Like I said, I've been here before."

"So why don't you stop me?"

"I don't have to. You've already stopped yourself."

Claire frowned, tapping her curved claws.

"I don't like tricks . . ."

"Neither do I, but this isn't one. How many times have you lost all hope, only to find that something wonderful was waiting on the other side of your despair?"

"There was a lot of misery, too."

"Would you have given up hope during the incident at Jurassic World, if doing so would have kept you distant from your family?"

"No, I guess not . . ."

"Would you have declined the offer to return to the island, knowing that you'd never meet Maisie, if you did?"

"No."

"And would you take your own life now, despite everything that you'll be missing out on?"

"What will I miss? . . ."

"Would you like to find out?"

"Yes . . . Yes, I'd-"

When she turned, the other Claire was gone. She huffed and slapped the snow with frustration.

"Oh, come on!"

"I haven't left you, Claire, and I never will. But you must do this of your own volition. Go on, Claire. Find your new Pearl."

A warm light crossed the snow. Claire stood up straight, beholding a sight most marvellous. A fiery sauropod approached her from the fog. The light that emanated from her figure dissolved into the air like ribbons of light, providing a warmth that Claire thought she would never be fortunate enough to experience again. But this feeling would come many times more, she knew, because she would live to experience it.

She walked towards the dinosaur, placing her paw on its hide. It was warm, but not scorching, as she expected. Slowly, she pressed her forehead against its skin.

"Let's go home."

***TSJWFKFEW***

Riding on the back of the flaming brachiosaur, Claire travelled towards home, alive and awake for every second of her journey. When she arrived at the island, she touched down on the sand with awe, taking in the feeling of home. Her companion gave a valiant trumpet and wandered into the night, leaving her to her family reunion.

When she arrived at the hotel, the first thing Claire noticed was a large Christmas tree. There were no presents beneath it, either because it was a decoration, or because the holiday had already passed. She could hear distant fireworks, which probably meant that they had entered the new year. Exhausted from her journey, Claire collapsed under the tree, deciding to take a short nap. By the time she woke up, however, sunlight streamed through the glass roof. She yawned, then perked up when the sound of Owen's voice came from a descending elevator.

". . . stayed up way too late. How are you so awake?"

Claire smiled as Maisie's voice drew near.

"Moonwatcher said that someone left me a late Christmas present under the tree. I think I know what it is."

Owen's tone was concerned.

"Maisie, I don't want you to get your hopes up. I looked and looked and looked, but I couldn't find-"

The elevator doors opened.

". . . Claire!"

Owen stood frozen in place, absolutely gobsmacked, but Maisie ran up to her mother and threw her arms around her neck, knocking her over (quite a feat, given her size). As she nuzzled her cheek, Owen snapped to attention, pushing open the elevator doors as they started closing on him. He stumbled over to the new arrival with amazement, falling to his knees in front of her.

"Claire, you came back . . ."

She smiled.

"I didn't want to miss anything."

When tears started forming in Owen's eyes, she bit her beak.

"I'm sorry if this is sudden, but-"

He gave her a hug.

"Oh, god, Claire, don't ever do that again . . ."

"I won't."

"And next time, you'd better make damn sure that you bite all of us, so we can live in the forest together as wild dinosaurs."

Claire laughed nervously.

"I can't really picture you as a dinosaur."

"Um, actually . . ."

He held up his hand, which grew pale and sprouted claws. Her jaw dropped.

"Owen, how did-"

"Moonwatcher helped me. When you left, I tried to track you down, but I realized that I needed something more than a human body to do it properly. I searched for long time, Claire, but I couldn't find you."

"When did you give up?"

"I didn't."

She frowned, cocking her head. Owen changed his hand back to normal.

"It's okay. I made sure that Maisie was taken care of during my expeditions."

"By Iris?"

"And Zia and Franklin and Eli and Ben and-"

"Is someone calling me?"

Lockwood rounded the corner, fitted with a brand new set of wheels.

"I thought I heard- Claire!"

He rushed over, smiling with relief.

"You're okay! We thought you had died or- Oh, Moonwatcher gave me this for Christmas."

He lifted a wheel.

"Very comfy. I quite like it. And now I don't have to rely on Eli to drive me everywhere."

Claire batted her eyes.

"Eli's been driving you?"

"And others. He's signed up with that 'Moober' program. Shall I give him a call and let him know that you've come back?"

". . . Yeah."

Claire hated to admit it, but she hadn't even thought about Eli.

"Is he . . . Is he mad that I left without telling him?"

Lockwood shook his head.

"Not at all. He was overjoyed to hear that you've come back."

"Huh? When did you have the chance to-"

"My brain is part phone."

Claire laughed merrily.

"God, I missed how little this place makes sense . . ."

Owen stroked her snout.

"And we've missed you. It's been lonely without you, Claire. We've been managing alright, but . . . it's just not the same."

She lowered her head.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I shouldn't have made you feel like . . . Uh . . . What I'm trying to say is . . ."

He took a deep breath.

"I'm sorry. I know I've said it before, but you deserve to know. I was wrong. I was wrong in so many ways that I can't even begin to apologize. I regret my every action, and if I could somehow go back and change everything, I-"

She pressed her horn against his cheek.

"I understand, Owen, and I wish we could-"

She broke off, realizing what she was about to say. She saw the look in Owen's eyes and realized that he knew what she meant. She exhaled slowly, then met his gaze.

"Maybe if things had gone another way, we . . ."

"If only I had been better, you mean."

She nodded.

"If only."

Suddenly, Eli burst into the hotel, eyes wide.

"WHERE'S CLAIRE? IS SHE H-"

He froze when he saw Claire and Owen sitting beside one another. He looked from her, to him, and back again, then gulped.

"Hey, Claire . . ."

She let her paw drop from Owen's shoulder and turned to face him.

"Hi."

After a beat, he nodded towards the exit.

"Can we . . . Can we talk for a moment?"

"Of course."

Claire followed him out of the hotel. Once they were outside, she took a deep breath.

"Eli, I'm so sorry I didn't tell you about-"

He shook his head.

"Don't worry about it, Claire. I'm just glad you're back."

There was a long silence. Eli stared at the ground, refusing to meet her gaze.

"Claire . . . if we . . . split up . . . would we still be friends?"

She felt a lump in her throat.

"Of course, Eli, but we-"

He placed his claw over her beak.

"No, Claire, just listen. I know how you feel about Owen, and I know how he feels about you. There's a reason you left him the note instead of me, and I don't want to keep this going if . . . if it's not real."

She whimpered.

"But I love you too, Eli."

"Yeah, I know. But it's not the same. I think you'd be happier with Owen. He's changed, since you left, and I think . . . I think you two could be good for each other, you know? I'll always love you, Claire, but I want to see you happy, and I think your life with Owen would be a very happy one, indeed. You two . . . you deserve each other. I don't want to take that away from you."

Claire blinked away tears.

"I don't know what to say . . ."

Eli smiled sadly.

"Just say, 'Okay' . . . and if you can, promise me that we'll still be friends? . . ."

She choked a little.

"I promise."

He nodded.

"Good . . . I don't wanna keep you. Go ahead and join your family."

"Do you wanna come, too?"

He chuckled dismissively.

"Nah, I'd just be a third wheel, so to speak. You enjoy the rest of your day. We can hang out later."

"You sure? You seemed to be in an awful hurry to find me."

"I was . . . excited. To hear that you came back, I mean."

"Was there anything else you wanted to say to me? Other than the whole 'dumping' thing, I mean."

"Other than that? No, not really."

She nodded slowly.

"Well, happy New Year, I guess."

He let out a long breath.

"Yeah. Happy New Year."

He drove away slowly, pausing once to wave goodbye. He smiled when she did, and managed to hold his mien until he was far enough down the road that she couldn't see him. Gradually, his smile turned to tears, and he sobbed on his way back to the maintenance shed. He gasped when someone stepped in front of him, swerving to the side and taking a harsh tumble to avoid the pedestrian. When his chin hit the ground, his hood popped open, and a diamond ring flew out of it. Moonwatcher jogged up to him and picked it up, turning it around curiously.

"Wow, this must have cost a fortune. Who's it for?"

"Doesn't matter. She went for another model, so to speak."

"Do you think it's returnable?"

"Not after six months."

"Ah. Well, you never know. You might just find someone who's interested."

"Doubtful."

He rolled upright.

"Sorry for almost running you over."

She waved her hand casually.

"No problem. I was actually looking for you. On a scale of one to ten, how satisfied were you with our Christmas special?"

"Five? . . ."

"Yeah, it wasn't too fun without Claire, was it? Regardless, it was a good learning opportunity, especially for you. The moral of the story is: don't kill old men and attempt to steal their granddaughters. Would you like a Christmas cookie?"

Eli turned his snout up as she pulled dinosaur-shaped gingerbread men out of her sweater.

"Those look expired, and I can't eat them anyway."

"Ah. Well, there's always next year. Maybe then, we can have a proper celebration for a non-denominational holiday compilation that focuses on Christmas the most for some reason. That poor menorah corner got no attention . . . You gonna be okay?"

He took a deep breath.

"I am. As long as Claire's happy . . . I'm happy."

"You sure?"

"Positive."

And he was telling the truth. Although a part of him was filled with regret, he knew that he had done the right thing in letting Claire go. She belonged with Owen, even after everything they had been through. And it might not make much sense to those who hadn't experienced it alongside them.

But anyone who knows what love is will understand.