Claire Dearing was tired. Not only was she tired, but she was barely even alive. Of course, being half dead due to exhaustion was better than being half dead because of the ominous threat of lurking dinosaurs that could end her life any moment. But that was all in the past. Even so, the dull, nightmarish thrum of the previous day was still present in her mind, and it haunted Claire's dreams as she drifted in and out of a light slumber.

"You okay?"

Claire's eyes fluttered open, and she saw Owen staring down at her. They were still being detained, and were currently waiting for the higher-ups to announce their plan of action. The other evacuees were in no better position. Everyone seemed to be in a trance, speaking only when a security official asked them a question and lumbering around the building like the living dead. Claire would have liked to believe that it was all over, that the terrible nightmare of yesterday was indeed in the past, but she knew that she would be wrong to assume such a thing. There were still a few people missing, and on an island full of dinosaurs, "missing" was probably as good as "dead", which meant that there would be a whole lot of paperwork involved. And then there was the matter of the park in general . . .

"We're in for a lot of shit," she sighed.

Owen stroked her hair.

"But we're alive."

"By the time the lawyers get to us, we'll wish we weren't."

He squeezed her gently.

"Don't worry about that now. Get some rest."

Claire sighed.

"If I try, I'll have nightmares."

"Then stay awake."

"That's just as bad. Everyone here hates me."

"I don't hate you."

Claire picked her fingernail idly.

"Do you blame me for what happened?"

"I don't think so."

Claire yawned and stretched out her arms. She didn't want to drift off again.

"What are you gonna do when I'm taken in for questioning?" she asked. Owen shrugged.

"Just sit and listen, I guess."

Claire scoffed.

"They won't take both of us at once."

Owen gave a faint smile.

"I know, but I could get a tin can and some wire . . ."

Claire batted his shoulder.

"I'll probably be in there longer than you, you know."

Owen shook his head.

"I don't think so. Not after what happened with the raptors."

Claire laced her fingers through his and squeezed his hand.

"I'm sorry. About everything."

"Don't worry about it."

"That's impossible. Worrying is what keeps me alive."

Owen smiled.

"Fair point. I just don't want you to feel responsible. If you're upset, we need to figure things out. Do you wanna talk about it?"

Claire shook her head.

"Maybe later. I get the feeling that I'll be doing a lot of talking soon. I'd better get my story straight."

Owen raised his eyebrow.

"If anyone asks, we're Polish immigrants and we haven't been smuggling fruits or vegetables. You didn't put any hand cream in your luggage, did you?"

Claire sighed.

"I sure could use some. I look and smell terrible."

Owen scrunched up his face.

"Yeah . . . You should probably take a shower."

"You too."

Owen grinned mischievously.

"Isn't it a bit soon for that?"

Claire laughed.

"Oh, you wish."

"Not really. You're kind of messy."

Claire rolled her eyes.

"That's a wonderful thing to say when a person's spirits are down . . ."

"Hey, I'm just being honest," Owen said defensively, "But at the very least, you know I'll never lie to you about whether a dress makes you look fat."

Claire groaned.

"Have you ever seen me look this bad?"

"Can't say I have, but at least it's temporary."

"I feel like shit."

"I think we all do."

Claire felt her heart race when a man with a clipboard walked by. Thankfully, he was about to interview someone else. The last thing she wanted was to be interrogated by the police or government officials, but it would eventually come to that, whether she was ready or not. She just hoped that she wouldn't have to be taken away from Owen for too long. Having him around made her feel a little bit more at ease. Perhaps it was his humor that relieved the tension, or maybe it was the idea of facing the challenge together . . . really together. Claire hadn't thought about it a great deal, but if there was one thing to look forward to after all of this . . . well . . .

"Do you like Italian food?"

Owen swiveled his head around.

"What?"

"Italian food. Do you like it?" Claire repeated.

Owen frowned in puzzlement.

"Yeah . . . Why?"

"I was just thinking that once this is over, if it ever ends, we could find an Italian restaurant and go on a date."

Owen nodded.

"Sounds good, but why Italian?"

Claire shrugged.

"It's fancy. I need something luxurious to counteract this crap."

Owen smiled.

"I promise that, as soon as we have time, I'll take you out to someplace nice."

Claire kissed his cheek and rested her head on his shoulder. It wasn't long, however, before their tender moment was interrupted by the clipboard man. He marched forward and gave them a quick scan.

"You Claire Dearing?"

She gulped.

"Am I being interrogated?"

The man nodded. Claire felt her heart sink. She reached up to fiddle with her necklace . . . only to find that it wasn't there.

Claire stood up in a flash.

"Wow. Someone's eager to be interviewed," Owen joked.

Claire didn't bother to reply, for she was searching the seat frantically. After a second, Owen frowned in concern and leaned forward.

"What did you lose?"

"My necklace," Claire gulped.

"Was it valuable?"

Claire felt her heart beating faster and faster. It wasn't simply valuable: it was essential. If she were to lose her cool-

Claire shuddered as a wave of nausea washed over her. It was happening. It was happening and it was happening at the worst possible time.

"I can look for the necklace while you're gone," Owen offered.

Claire forced herself to stop shaking.

"Ah, no. That's fine. I'm fine. Forget the necklace. I just . . . I have to go to the bathroom."

She turned to the clipboard man with an apologetic smile.

"Sorry. The interrogation will have to wait. I won't take long, I promise."

And with that, she bolted down the hall.

***TSJWFEW***

Cow (Noun)

1. A fully grown female animal of a domesticated breed of ox, used as a source of milk or beef.

2. A woman, especially a fat or stupid one.

***TSJWFEW***

Owen sat impatiently outside of the women's restroom. Claire had been inside for a good fifteen minutes, and he was starting to wonder what could possibly be taking her so long. Not wanting to rush her, he kept his mouth shut. To his relief, he heard Claire's voice quavering feebly on the other side of the door.

"Owen? . . ."

He stopped leaning against the wall and turned his head.

"Yeah?"

"I have a problem."

Owen rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

"A lady-problem?"

"No . . ."

He sighed with relief.

"Okay. What do you need?"

"Can you keep a secret?"

Owen didn't like where this was going. Of course, he had no idea what the dramatic reveal was going to be, but it could range anywhere from diarrhea to things he didn't want to know existed.

"I might be able to keep a secret. Yeah. Sure. I can."

She paused.

"It's kind of a big secret, and you aren't going to believe me until I show you."

Oh boy. That didn't sound good.

"Claire . . . Are you sure I'm the best person to trust with this secret of yours?" Owen asked nervously.

"I . . . I hope so. You're the only one around and . . . and you're very accepting. Do you promise not to be scared?"

He was very much scared.

"Claire, this is sounding a little intimidating. What exactly is wrong?"

She gulped.

"I have a problem. A supernatural problem."

Owen blinked and shook his head.

"I might have heard you wrong. Did you say supernatural?"

"Yes."

Owen twisted his mouth.

"Okay . . . Like ghosts, or-"

"No. It's complicated. Kind of. Look, do you promise not to tell anyone?"

"I promise, Claire."

"Alright. I'm gonna tell you now. Here it goes . . ."

She took a deep breath.

"I'm a dinosaur."

Owen blinked.

"Um . . . Can you explain that statement?"

"I'm literally a dinosaur. I have four legs and a tail. I'm a dinosaur."

Owen rubbed his chin.

"Claire . . . I don't get it."

Suddenly, a large beak pushed the door open. The beak in question was attached to a face which had three horns and a frill. Behind it, a massive body appeared, followed by a long, swinging tail. Owen fell backwards and began to crawl away. Before he could get too far, Claire put her front foot on his pantleg, pinning him in place.

"Don't run."

He sat staring at her, trying desperately to catch his breath.

"You . . . You weren't kidding," he laughed nervously.

Claire lifted her foot and sat with her tail curled in front of her. Her shoulders were hunched, and she wouldn't make eye contact with him. She seemed very upset, and rightly so.

"I'm sorry to spring this on you all of a sudden, but I don't trust anyone else, and besides, we're all alone."

Owen gulped and stood up. Slowly, he circled her, examining every oddity she now displayed. She was mostly olive green, but her frill and plates were a rusty red color, like her hair had been. She had beige toe-nubs and spikes on her tail. Her beak was a dull gold like the indentations on her frill (two large and two small). The frill in question was butterfly-shaped, with a little extension that sat on her forehead like bangs. Along the edge of her frill were pinkish bumps that looked like pearls. Her underbelly was brownish-yellow, just like the bottoms of her back feet and her inner thighs (she quickly shooed Owen away from the area as soon as he started getting too nosy). He examined her horns last, running his hand along them before staring into her eyes, which were the same as they had always been, only a lot bigger. She gazed at him with a worried expression, then rubbed her front leg nervously.

"So . . . What do you think?"

Owen was struggling to find the right words. Finally, he sighed.

"Claire, I think you might be a stegoceratops."

***TSJWFEW***

"Ms. Spurr! We have a reading on the Stegoceratops Tracking Device!"

A stern-looking blonde woman spun around in her chair and put her elbows on the mahogany desk in front of her.

"Bernie, how many times do I have to tell you? The proper term is Stegoceratops Tracking Implantation."

"Either way, our acronyms are terrible."

The woman stood up and walked across the room. She stopped in front of a large window and looked down at the poverty-stricken streets of Madrid. The outside world stood in stark contrast to her orderly office. It might seem like a poor business decision to set her headquarters in an area that could be described as the slums, but for her purposes, it was perfect. She didn't want to arouse suspicion, and the people of this district wouldn't give a rat's ass about who she was or who she pretended to be.

"Bernie, it may be time to contact our dear friend, June."

The man wrung his hands.

"We haven't even spoken to her yet. How are we gonna find her?"

Spurr didn't adjust her line of sight.

"She leaves a trail of blood. If we can pinpoint a series of brutal murders that form a pattern, it will lead us straight to her. You will, of course, search for these incidents on your own, or I could very easily send you back to the hell from which you came."

The man shrunk away.

"I'll get right on it."

The woman smiled thinly.

"Good. You may have a better chance of finding her in a land with elephants."

The man cocked his head.

"Why do you say that?"

"Because she's raising an army, and war elephants were mentioned in the prophecy."

The man's eyes went wide.

"Should we be worried?"

"No," Spurr replied calmly, "She may have an army . . ."

A hideous roar erupted from the chamber below the office.

". . . but we have a monster."

***TSJWFEW***

Owen paced back and forth in front of Claire with his chin in his hand.

"So, this wing-lady gave you a necklace, and it's been suppressing your stegoceratopsedness?"

"If that were a word, then yes."

Owen raised his eyebrow.

"Are you sure this isn't just a side-effect of science?"

Claire frowned.

"This isn't a Saturday morning cartoon, Owen. My problem is serious."

Owen shrugged.

"I don't think it's that bad. I mean, you're still in good health, so-"

"I'm a dinosaur."

"I noticed."

Claire sighed.

"There's one more thing. Remember that night when I went to Alfonzo's with a strange woman?"

"I'm surprised you remember, after-"

Owen gulped as Claire growled in warning.

"-well, I'm just surprised you remember. Go on."

"She said something about this carving in Cambodia. It was a stegoceratops, and she wanted my blood . . . I don't know why. It's really cloudy. But it's suspicious, don't you think?"

Owen nodded.

"Very suspicious. Maybe it's a government conspiracy."

Claire rolled her eyes.

"This is no time to be making jokes. I'm afraid, Owen. What if I'm stuck this way forever?"

Owen crossed his arms.

"I'm sticking with you to the very end, Claire. You can count on me."

She snorted.

"I stand by my Saturday morning cartoon comparison."

Owen began to pace again. For a while, neither of them had anything to say. It was clear that they couldn't meet up with the others; the group wouldn't be keen to encounter another dinosaur. It would also be foolish to contact security officials, for similar reasons. They were stuck. Finally, Claire tossed her head in agitation.

"This is insane! What are we supposed to do?"

Owen punched his palm with determination.

"Find answers. If this carving of yours is in Cambodia, that's a good place to start."

Claire thought he was joking at first, but then she looked into his eyes. He was serious. He was dead serious. More surprising still, she kind of agreed with him.

"How are we supposed to hide me if I . . . you know . . ." she asked, waving her front foot vaguely to approximate the words "can't change back".

"I haven't figured that out yet. Do you have a trenchcoat?"

"That's not funny."

Owen hummed and leaned against the wall, thinking hard. Claire swished her tail slowly, examining it with a kind of sadness. When she turned back, Owen was kneeling in front of her face.

"Hey. Don't worry. I won't let anything happen to you."

He put his hands on her cheeks and kissed the ridge of her beak. Claire flinched, but smiled shortly after.

"Thank you. Thank you for helping me and for not running away."

Owen smiled coyly.

"Hey, you're a herbivore. What could you possibly do to hurt me?"

Claire kicked him gently.

"These horns are sharp."

Owen laughed and started petting her snout. She pulled away and snorted angrily.

"I'm not an animal. Don't treat me like one."

Owen smiled.

"You know, you pull off the dinosaur look pretty well. Even so, I'd like to get you back to normal."

Claire nodded.

"What do you propose we do?"

Owen put his hands on his hips.

"We are going to travel to Cambodia!"