I really liked how Owen leaned into me when I licked his cheek. Sometimes, he'd tilt forward so far that I'd end up dragging my tongue through his hair, but he didn't seem to mind. I could work out his emotions more accurately than ever with my enhanced senses. He looked- and smelled- happy. Content, even. And so was I, for the most part.

But, as always, I still had problems. Two of them, to be exact. And those two problems were Owen's index and middle finger. They were tightly wrapped up in braces, at the moment, and since the injury had occurred on his dominant hand, he needed my help with certain tasks, not that my clumsy dinosaur paws were much better. I was typing on his phone when I felt Franklin staring at me with confusion.

"Are you sure he can't just use a stylus or something? It can't be that bad."

"It's hard to bend my fingers," Owen muttered.

"I'll bet. Hey, you never told us how you injured yourself. Was it one of your heroic adventures with raptors and such?" Franklin joked.

Owen shrugged.

"I got them caught in a . . . kitchen appliance."

"What kind?"

Don't say meat grinder.

"I don't remember."

Franklin took a confused sip of his smoothie.

"How can you not remember? Seems pretty serious."

Owen shrugged.

"Not important."

I could sense his pulse quickening, since my tail was curled around his arm. He wasn't so much afraid of people finding out what had happened. Rather, he was worried that reminding me of the incident would cause another emotional crisis on my end. I knew this because he had broken down about it on the day of the accident. He had tried to convince me that he was fine ("It's not that bad . . . Well, yes, they're broken but . . . not much?"), and when that didn't work, he tried to distract me ("Why don't we go home and have some fun? We'll be careful, this time."), to which I replied that he certainly wouldn't want the same thing to happen to his-

Anyway, when none of his excuses soothed me, he broke down, weeping at the idea of losing me again. I didn't intend to leave, I told him, but he somehow got it into his head that this was going to be another tipping point, like when I bit Maisie, but I assured him that this was different. He devolved into incoherent rambling, and I spent most of the night with his snotty, wet face pressed against my chest, stroking his hair while he sputtered nonsense. I fell asleep with him lying like that, and the next day, we were still in the same position. He hadn't slept a wink, and he stayed awake halfway through the next night as well. The only reason he even closed his eyes was because I placed him on top of my belly, so that if I left (which I wouldn't), he'd know it right away. I didn't even get up to pee that night, and we were both miserable the next day.

After that unpleasantness, Owen calmed down a little, but not in a good way. He was like the living dead, dazed and confused, distant in his own little world. When his father trotted up to him one day in another attempt to reconcile, he didn't even notice that he was being spoken to for a solid five minutes. And then he just got up and left.

I was worried about Owen, and I knew that there was no way to calm his fears, because he had developed a strong sense of paranoia. Perhaps it was justified.

Against my better judgement, and behind Owen's back, I met with his father. We decided not to go to Isla Taco or any of the gang's usual haunts. Instead, we found ourselves on the north end of the island, in a shady bar run by Tits and her crew (I guess whatever business Moonwatcher had with them wasn't worth abandoning, even after our little scrap). The pig buried his snout in a bowl of sludge that they had emptied out of the dishwasher, and noticing the horrified look on my face, grunted apologetically.

"I don't have money right now, so I take what I can get. It all tastes the same now, and I'm hungry a lot."

"I know the feeling."

He cleared his throat.

"I wanted to apologize for what I said the other day. You're not a monster, and you do belong here. I mean, if anyone is out of place on this island, it's me."

"How do you figure?"

He shrugged.

"Well, you and your friends are close enough to be family, and you have something nice going on, yeah? But I'm not a part of that. I don't have anyone to go to. My only direct descendant hates me, and his kid doesn't want to see me either. How does that work, by the way, with you being a dinosaur and all?"

I choked on my drink.

"First of all, inappropriate. Second, I wasn't always a dinosaur. Third, Maisie's adopted."

"Oh. Shame."

When I glared at him, he licked his tusks nervously.

"That wasn't the smartest thing to say, huh?"

"It wasn't, no."

He nodded.

"Yeah, I'm not so good with . . . Well, with the talking, and all. Part of me doesn't want to try to repair my relationship with Owen, because I know that I'll just fuck it up again, but I'm not getting any younger, and . . . and I think I really blew it, before. I don't want that to be my legacy."

"Your legacy?"

"Well, do you think Owen is the way he is because of me?"

My frown deepened.

"You certainly didn't help . . ."

"Poor kid. I ruined him."

I snarled.

"You didn't 'ruin' Owen. You hurt him, and it took him a long time to heal, but he's starting to get better."

"Maybe it would be best to stay out of his life, then."

He looked up at me, hoping I'd argue this point. Instead, I crossed my arms.

"Whatever you feel is best."

"Well . . . I dunno. I kind of wish . . . I mean . . ."

I growled softly.

"Look, you can't just pull a sad face and expect everything to get better."

"But Owen's not even giving me a chance to prove myself!"

"Maybe there's a good reason."

"But how am I supposed to-"

"Maybe you're not. Maybe you're supposed to be miserable for the rest of your life, because you abused your only child, and you don't deserve his love."

His nose twitched.

"I'm a very unhappy man."

"You're not even a man."

He nodded.

"I suppose all that's left to do now is wait. Maybe I'll make a good breakfast for someone."

"Hopefully not Zia, again."

"Hopefully not."

He pushed his chair away from the table.

"Well, goodbye, Claire. I'm sorry I wasn't better. Owen's lucky to have you. I mean it."

I never saw that pig again. I didn't know it at the time, of course, but that was our last encounter.

Actually, let me specify that I didn't immediately know this, because-

"Life is just a series of unexpected goodbyes, isn't it?"

I jumped as Moonwatcher appeared beside me.

"Jesus, I hate that."

"The fact that we may never have closure?"

"No, the fact that you keep- Oh, forget it."

"You're never gonna see him again, you know."

"Why not?"

"That's just what's going to happen. It's inevitable. One day, you're planning for a heartfelt reunion, and the next, you realize that you've missed your only chance to pull it off tastefully."

She nodded towards a white tiger that was prowling through the jungle.

"Hey, bud!"

"Hello!" he called back.

"How you holding up?"

"Hello!"

She turned back to me.

"Yeah, we have limited footage. Not much to work with unless we Carrie Fisher that shit, but I think that's kind of tasteless, don't you?"

"Moonwatcher, I never understand what you're saying."

"Well, it's just weird, is all. One day, you have something, the next, it's out of your life forever, and you don't even get the chance to say goodbye . . . of course, it's kind of hard to get rid of people here because we can literally bring back dead people if our excuse is good enough, but that's not reality, is it? It's just us trying to cope with the fact that at any moment, we could be snuffed out like a candle, and our light- Hey, HEY!"

She snapped her fingers in front of my face.

"Pay attention! I'm being insightful!"

"You're being indiscernible."

She rolled her eyes.

"The heavy stuff is wasted on you. Here I am, weaving a fine tapestry with my words, and you just sit here and spew garbage. On the bright side, I can rely on the fact that you're an unsophisticated narrator to shield myself from criticism, because I can just say that you suck, but that's your only merit."

"Okay, Moonwatcher."

She crossed her arms.

"Well, if you're looking for closure, try talking to him."

"Who?"

She pointed to the tiger.

"He's not the same person you knew, and he doesn't have a lot to say, but I know that you have a lot of guilt, and it's more for your own benefit than his."

I cocked my head.

"Am I supposed to know him?"

"Claire, this place is filled with people from your past. They may be a little different- and also mostly dinosaurs now- but it doesn't matter how much a person changes, as long as they know who they are. And not to get all metaphysical, but the only thing that ties us to our past is the concept of the self. We're always changing, so we're never the same person as we used to be, except we are. That's the magic of it. No matter how much we change, the core of what we stand for lives on. It may not resemble us in any way, but it's still part of our legacy . . . even if that ends up being a talking tiger."

". . . What."

She waved her hand.

"Forget it. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to export a terabyte of Zara vore as PNG files."

"Okay."

Look, you'll know by now that I have no idea what Moonwatcher is talking about most of the time. I'm just relaying what she said. It sounds like something I'd rather not look up, though, so let's just leave it at that and call it a day.

"I do not like the direction my life is headed," I muttered to myself as Moonwatcher skipped away.

"Hello!" the tiger called from the jungle.

I stood up, pushed my chair against the table, and walked away briskly.

"Goodbye."

***TSJWFKFEW***

I still had nightmares about the wilderness. That vast, empty plane haunted me, even as I lay warm in bed. I'd walk through thick snow that muted the landscape. My footsteps were ear-shattering.

Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.

The trees were distant: a thin, black lace on the horizon. Everything else was white. I couldn't tell where the earth met the sky. And then I'd turn my head, and looking back, I'd realize that I'd lost sight of even the trees. Everything was white, and I didn't know which direction was forward, or if it even mattered. I was going in circles, and I feared that I'd die, or else sink into the pale abyss that surrounded me. I was alone in the world, the only thing to exist. This filled me with a creeping dread that I can't put into words.

I screamed and screamed, hoping someone would find me, but my voice came out in a hoarse whisper. I was going to die alone. No one was coming for me.

I opened my eyes as Owen laid his hand on my snout.

"Claire, are you okay?"

My eyes adjusted to the dark room rapidly.

"What's going on?"

"You were muttering something, and it didn't sound good, so I decided to wake you up."

"I was having a nightmare."

"Yeah, I figured. Wanna talk about it?"

"It . . . It's nothing. Just a bad dream."

I tucked myself under the covers.

"It's strange, being so afraid, then suddenly realizing that what you're afraid of isn't real."

"Yeah."

"Makes me feel foolish."

"You're not foolish. The mind is a scary place. It's where fear comes from. You're not weak for being afraid."

I hummed.

"I guess you must have nightmares, too."

"Lots. But they've been getting better."

"Anything recurring?"

"I have a few favourites," he replied sardonically, "Sometimes, I dream about Maisie running away from me and getting hurt. I try to call her back, but she won't listen, and I always know it's coming, but-"

He winced.

"And sometimes, I dream that Eli drives off a cliff, and nothing I say can convince him to stop."

"I'm detecting a theme."

"Yeah, I guess. But I also have normal nightmares, like being attacked by dinosaurs, getting caught in a rat trap, and that weird one where my teeth fall out. Why is that so common? It's really strange."

"Yeah," I agreed.

He shuddered.

"Oh, god, and this one time, I dreamed that I walked in on Eli naked, and he had a metal . . . you know."

I stared at him for a moment. His eyes went wide.

"Wait, does h-"

I yawned loudly.

"Well, I think it's time to go to bed."

"Claire, this is quite the revelation."

"I said nothing."

He chuckled.

"Alright. Goodnight, Claire."

I muttered the same to him, then drifted off.

I awoke once more from a lighter sleep when I heard frantic knocking at the door. I knew it was Maisie because of how high-pitched the sound was. She had small hands, and she used the bony parts of her fingers instead of the side of her palm. Owen slipped out of bed to open the door, and when Maisie saw me yawning, she bolted forward and wrapped her arms around my neck.

"I thought you were gone . . ."

My heart trembled.

"You were dreaming, sweetheart. I'm here. I'm not leaving."

She whimpered softly. I licked her cheek, then settled into bed.

"Why don't you stay here for the night?"

She nodded and crawled under the sheets. I curled my tail to my snout, and she rested against my neck.

"Don't leave me . . ."

"I won't. Never again."

I felt awful for having left in the first place, but lying there with Maisie beside me, I was glad to have made it back safely. I had ruined things, just a little, when I abandoned everyone, but I could fix this, because no matter how guilty I felt, I knew that I wouldn't (couldn't) leave again. I thought about it many times, yes, but nothing could make me betray my friends and family like that. Not after what happened last time.

***TSJWFKFEW***

I was starting to lose count of how many times Owen had to rush me to the hospital. It didn't help that most of our trips occurred because of complications with our . . . intimate moments. Anyway, Owen had lost his watch. You'd think he'd remove it beforehand, but being Owen, it slipped his mind . . . and slipped off his wrist. We tried our best to find it- a flashlight was involved- but no luck. So, the hospital, it was.

When I stepped through the metal detector, I set it off. I was initially confused, since I was naked and all, but then I remembered that I had a metal watch up my-

You know.

Come to think of it, wasn't it just a regular plastic watch? Was there really enough metal to set off the machine, especially when it was so deep in my-

You know.

Anyway, I was pulled aside and scanned with one of those little paddles that beeps. The electric screech went wild when the guard waved it over my belly.

"Did you eat metal?"

I shook my head.

"Not to my knowledge. I might have swallowed something while I was grazing? . . ."

Owen raised his eyebrows.

"Did you know that Eli eats metal? I helped him figure it out. He got really sick, and-"

"Owen, I have a digital watch stuck in my cervix."

"Right."

The guard nodded to the doors, and we entered the emergency room. Moonwatcher was waiting for me, and snapped a glove over her wrist.

"I've heard of a person's 'time of the month', but this is ridiculous."

I gulped.

"Do we have to do this manually?"

"It's gonna take two hands and some time, much like a watch."

Owen frowned.

"Watches don't 'take' time-"

"Yeah, and you're wasting mine. You gonna bend her over or what?"

"She can do it herself."

"Yeah, but you'll need to hold her steady while I grab my baseball bat."

"What for?!" I yelped.

"To beat the clock."

I growled.

"Are you finished?"

"Don't get ticked off."

Owen crossed his arms.

"How many of these do we have to sit through?"

"I'm done. Don't worry, Claire. I'm the best temporary gynaecologist on this island. Nobody's died on my watch."

I didn't dignify that one with an answer. Moonwatcher tightened her lips.

"Anyway, we do need to take an ultrasound to figure out how deep it is. If it's embedded in your cervix, you'll need stitches."

"Because a stitch in time saves nine?" I asked, rolling my eyes.

"Because it could tear your vagina."

"Oh."

She waved her hand.

"Follow me."

***TSJWFKFEW***

Well, the ultrasound went terribly. Moonwatcher wouldn't let me see the screen, though I don't think it would have made me feel better, anyway. She told me that it was abnormal, to which I replied, "No shit! I have a watch stuck in my cervix!" and she said, "Actually, your cervix is closed. I'm gonna have to take a closer look at this ultrasound later, but for now, would you mind passing me that long stick with a hook on the end?"

And she jammed it right in.

Owen and I left the ER with a plastic bag, the contents of which were thankfully limited to a very sticky watch, which was quite possibly the worst souvenir ever. Owen's face was flushed with embarrassment.

"I'm so sorry, Claire . . ."

"That's okay. Just don't lose something with velcro, next time."

He winced.

"Yeah. I forget that I'm wearing things, sometimes."

"Is this better or worse than losing rings in the drain?"

He laughed.

"Well, when the time comes, I'll be sure to buy a ring holder."

I stopped walking. Owen realized what he'd said, and panicked.

"Oh! I didn't mean-"

"No, of course, I get it-"

"Yeah, because it'd be weird, right?"

"Too soon."

After a pause, he lifted his head.

"Claire . . . you know we've been together for around five years, right?"

I grimaced.

"Well, if you choose to include all the time we spent apart, or dating other people, then that's technically true."

"Well, we've known each other for a long time, is my point."

"Yeah, but wouldn't it be a huge commitment?"

". . . You do realize that we're currently raising a child together, right?"

I shrugged.

"Yeah, I know, but . . . it feels too soon."

"Can I ask you something?"

"I . . . I'm not sure I'm going to like this . . ."

"I was just wondering if it's because of me."

"What?"

He put his hands behind his back.

"We both know I've been shitty to you, and I'm trying to be better, but we've been on and off for years, so I was wondering . . . is it just because it's me?"

"Owen-"

"It's okay if it is."
"Owen, don't make me-"

"If it had been Eli, would you have said yes?"

I hated that I paused before answering.

"I . . . I don't think so. He never asked, anyway."

"He was going to."

My jaw dropped.

"How-"

"He told me. Even gave me the ring. I didn't want to take it, but he said that there's no way he's gonna find someone with dinosaur-fingers, and it'd go to waste if I didn't-"

"Owen . . ."

"Look, I paid him for it, and-"

I held up my paws.

"Owen, stop. Whatever's going on, you shouldn't feel pressured to . . . you know."

"Claire, I can commit to this."

"Owen, no."

"I can. I'll-"

"Owen, this is not the kind of conversation I want to be having right after someone pulled a Timex out of my privates."

He looked away.

"Sorry."

"It's okay. We'll talk about this tomorrow."

". . . I'm not sure I want to . . ."

"Well, then we won't. You sometimes say things that you end up regretting. Let's not be impulsive tonight. We have all the time in the world. And that's not a joke about watches."

He nodded.

"You're right."

I stuck out my tongue as he unzipped the bag, wiped the watch on his pants, and fastened it around his wrist.

"We have time."

I rolled my eyes and followed him to the hotel. Before entering, he paused at the door.

"Claire?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you still have feelings for Eli?"

This time, I didn't pause.

"He's my friend, but I don't have feelings for him. There's nothing tying us together anymore."

"Okay."

After a long silence, he met my gaze.

"Claire?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry."

I licked his cheek.

"It's okay. I love you."

"I love you, too. So much."

I smiled and led him back to our room.

***TSJWFKFEW***

The next morning, I woke Owen by licking his hand. I buried my snout into his palm, and when he didn't respond, I moved down to his feet. As soon as my tongue reached his big toe, his legs shot under the covers, and he laughed.

"Claire, you know I'm ticklish . . ."

"I know. I'm trying to get you out of bed, lazy!"

He snorted as I dragged my tongue across his cheek. When I reached his ear, he moaned.

"Well, now I wanna stay in bed even longer . . ."

I smiled and prepared to unbutton his pants, but suddenly, a wave of nausea overtook me. I rushed to the bathroom and bent over the toilet, gagging. Owen flung himself out of bed and knelt beside me.

"Claire, are you okay?"

I was too busy vomiting to answer. Owen rubbed my side as I hurled, sending a disgusting mess of raw meat and grass into the toilet bowl. When I was finished, he wiped my beak with a wad of toilet paper.

"Claire, are you sick? Is it food poisoning?"

"I set off the metal detector last night. I might have swallowed something."

"Oh, no . . ."

I swayed unsteadily on my legs.

"Can you call Moonwatcher, please?"

"Of course."

He stood up and made his way over to the phone. I stared at the tile, noticing how bright it was. Why did they have to make the tile white? Especially under such bright lights . . .

My ears were buzzing, and the floor was looking more detailed, except at the edges of my vision, where it was blurred. Rainbows crackled before me like fireworks, and I felt like my brain was sloshing around in my head, because gravity seemed to be changing direction. I laid my head on the floor. Initially, I felt a worse wave of nausea, but the new position helped, a little. I noticed a blurry Owen running towards me, and fuck me, his feet were loud!

"Claire, what's going on? What do you feel?"

I exhaled as he pressed down on several parts of my face, turning it in his hands.

". . . Sick?"

"Sick, how?"

"Dizzy. Faint."

He set my head down gently.

"You feel a little hotter, but not feverish. Is it maybe a delayed case of heat stroke?"

"Is that a thing?"

"I don't know."

I groaned and lifted my head, then rolled onto my belly.

"I'm feeling a bit better. I think it's passing."

He rubbed my neck.

"Good, good . . ."

I tossed my head and snorted woozily.

"It's going away. That was fast."

Owen sighed with relief.

"Good. Do you think you can walk to the hospital?"

"I'm better."

"For now, but whatever happened . . . it's not a good sign."

"I'm fine."

He stared at me with concern.

"Let me carry you."

I snorted.

"How do you plan on doing that?"

He took a few steps back and changed into a dinosaur.

". . . Oh, right."

He felt my forehead again.

"Claire, I won't feel comfortable until you get this thing checked out."

"I think I know my own body, Owen. Please trust my judgment."

He quickly wiped the pained look off his face and sobered up.

"Yeah, okay. We won't worry about it unless it happens again."

That was a fair compromise, I think. Normally, a disagreement like this would have spiralled into something worse, but thankfully, Owen had learned from his past mistakes . . . for now, at least. And I suppose that I had also learned from mine, though the pain I carried with me was an effective reminder.

You won't be free until you die.

The thought had entered my mind more often than I cared to admit. I tried to tell myself that Maisie was better off knowing that I was there for her, but then I'd think about how I'd fucked everything up by leaving in the first place, and that no matter what I did from now on, I had permanently stained my record as a parent. Maisie did not have a good mother. It would almost be easier to find a way to kill myself now. She'd be heartbroken at first, but I wouldn't be able to hurt her anymore, at least. Just one cruel act to ensure her eternal safety.

Of course, I knew that it wasn't as easy as my tormented mind made it out to be. Dying now would create lasting scars, so of course I had to stick around and try to make the best of things. But nothing could erase my guilt.

If only I hadn't run away . . .

***TSJWFKFEW***

When you're awake, you know that you're awake. When you're asleep, there are times when you can't tell if it's real or not. Tonight, I knew that I was asleep, but it felt very, very real.

I stared up at the Jurassic World gates, which stood tall and bright as the day they'd been erected. There was no sign of the decay that I had witnessed during my last visit. It was as though the painful years marked by failure after failure had never come to pass.

"You have a choice to make."

I turned and saw my other self sitting behind me. Her wings were folded behind her, and her tail was wrapped around her legs. She didn't seem to be particularly bothered by this strange situation.

"I brought you here to face your secret wish."

She stood.

"If you walk through those gates, you will not wake up. There will be no way to tell that it was your own doing. As far as anyone else is concerned, you'll have passed quietly in your sleep."

I stared up at the bold blue letters.

"That's not the right choice, though, is it?" I whispered.

She shrugged.

"Maybe not. But it's up to you. If you're the kind of person who can live with your decision, so to speak, then go ahead and leave. No one else has to know. It'll stay between you and me."

I gulped and approached the gates.

"I know I shouldn't do it, but I'm tempted. What happens once I'm through?"

"I think you already have a vague idea."

"Will Owen and Maisie be there?"

"Eventually."

"And we'll be happy?"

"That's not my decision. The way you feel about each other on Earth will not change once you're on the other side."

I looked down.

"Then this isn't the right choice."

"Remember, they'll never know."

"But I'll know. As much as I can't live with my mistakes, it would be worse to live with myself, knowing that I abandoned them again. So I have no choice but to . . . live, I guess."

She nodded.

"Then I'll send you home."

I took a deep breath.

"You know, I don't think this is going to be the last time I have these thoughts. If your offer still stands the next time things go wrong, can you do me a favour and not tell me about it?"

She unfolded her wings.

"If that helps."

As she flew away, my eyes fluttered open. It was still late, before midnight, probably, and I wondered if I would struggle to get back to sleep. If my dreams continued on this theme, maybe it would be better to stay awake.

Owen stirred beside me. I tried to stay still so as not to wake him too, but he had already sensed my unrest.

"You okay?"

I felt a lump in my throat.

"I don't know how to be okay. I don't know how to be good."

He placed his hand on my cheek.

"You want to know how to be good? Just be. You're already everything I could ever hope for."

I smiled, eyes watering.

"Low standards?"

He snorted.

"Claire Dearing, in what universe am I the one who's out of your league?"

I licked his nose.

"Well, when you put it like that . . ."

He rolled onto my chest.

"If you refuse to sleep, I'm just gonna have to pin you down."

"I wouldn't mind that."

He yawned.

"Sure thing. Just let me know if you have to pee in the middle of the night. You didn't last time, and I thought you might explode."

I rested my head on the pillow.

"I'll let you know."

After a long pause, I felt Owen smiling on my chest.

"What? What's so funny?"

"Nothing's funny. This just feels nice. Like a heated water mattress."

I rolled my eyes.

"Jesus Christ . . ."

When I did fall asleep, it was the most peaceful night I had experienced for a good long time.

***TSJWFKFEW***

The next morning, I was having a quiet breakfast with Owen at The Hidden Amber when something large and black darted through the tall grass. It pounced onto the patio, hissing and spitting, and as my quills bristled in preparation for an attack, there was a pneumatic sound, and two darts appeared in the creature's neck. It swayed, then fell. I took a good look at the animal, then snarled at Moonwatcher, who ran up to it with a tranquilizer gun in her hands.

"Are you seriously making human-dinosaur hybrids now?"

She frowned and grabbed the saurian human by the legs.

"Kind of the opposite, actually. This is one of the captured Indoraptors from your world. She used to be a human. Phyllis was her name. We tried to extract her saurian DNA as a test."

"A test for what?!"

"For when we do the same to you, of course!"

My face fell.

"Moonwatcher, I don't want that . . ."

She hummed.

"Just as well. This technique is proving rather ineffective. I suggest you continue to train yourself to purge your Indoraptor DNA as originally planned, though. Once we get you into a purely Stegoceratops shape, we can talk about making you human again."

My eyes darted towards Owen and back to Moonwatcher.

"I . . . I don't know if I-"

"At least try it so you have an option, okay?" Moonwatcher insisted, "And maybe, I dunno, consider changing back so that we can fix this canonical mess and not provoke dangerous people?"

Without waiting for a response, she draped the limp dino-sapien over her shoulder with ease and jogged away. I turned to Owen with worry.

"What did she mean by 'dangerous people', exactly? . . ."

He shrugged.

"Anyone who's more dangerous than she is, I don't want to meet."

I gulped, placing my paws in my lap.

"Can I get your opinion on what she said? . . ."

"I don't like that she's experimenting on people now, and I don't want her touching you."

"But what about her idea of converting me back? Should I try for it?"

Owen frowned.

"I thought you didn't want to change back."

"I d- I mean, I . . . It's not something I really . . . It's complicated."

Owen shook his head.

"Come on, Claire. You don't have to pretend anymore. I know that you like being a dinosaur, and I support you."

I bit my lower beak.

"Owen, we'll never be able to live a normal l-"

He waved his hand.

"Claire, Claire, Claire! Stop it! We've been over this before, and I don't want us to take any more steps backwards. We don't need to have a normal life. I'm happy, Maisie's happy, and I want you to be happy, too."

"But Owen-"

"Would it help if I said that I'd rather you stay this way?"

My jaw dropped.

"Owen . . ."

He reached across the table and put his hand on my paw.

"Hey. I know I'm not the best at showing you how much I care, so let me just say it. You're beautiful, I love you, and this is what's best for all of us. If there was a way to change you into a human right here and now, I would say no. You're the best version of yourself, and you've made me into the best version of myself, too. There's not a single thing about you that I'd change."

Well, during all of this, I had begun to sniffle, and my beak started quivering when he was done. He noticed that my eyes were watering, and he swallowed nervously.

"Claire-"

I pushed the table aside and wrapped my arms around him. He patted my back with relief.

"Oh, okay. Those were happy tears, right?"

I nodded, pressing my nose into his shoulder.

"Mhm," I squeaked.

Owen gave me one last squeeze before letting me go.

"Don't worry Claire. Everything is going to be fine."

***TSJWFKFEW***

"EVERYTHING IS NOT GOING TO BE FINE!" Moonwatcher screamed, pinning Phyllis to the ground as she writhed around uncontrollably.