"I spy something blue," Owen muttered as he sat pronated on Claire's forehead.

"Owen, I haven't been playing your game for fifteen minutes. In fact, I haven't been playing at all."

He ignored her snarky comment and rolled over miserably.

"I spy something green."

Claire rumbled angrily.

"It had better not be me."

"It's you."

Claire tossed her head. Owen tumbled to the ground. He stood up and began to hop beside her.

"I don't know why you're so sensitive about it. I mean, you got off easy. I'm a rat. At least you have a decent figure."

"Me? No."

"You're like a plush, cuddly panda."

Claire rolled her eyes.

"Wow, I thought you were being genuine, but it turns out you're just an idiot."

Owen scoffed.

"Why can't you take a compliment? You should be glad that I at least care about your well-being, whereas you seem to have no issue with the fact that I'm a jerboa, or that for me, it's permanent."

Claire stopped walking. She gave a little shudder, feeling her muscles tensing in a preemptive attack.

"Listen, Owen, I'm not trying to make light of your situation, okay?" she growled with venom, "The simple fact is, I don't particularly want to be shot and hung on Barnaby's wall like a trophy buck, so you can just put a sock in it and deal with your situation until we find a way to get back home."

Owen's whiskers twitched in agitation.

"Fine, Mrs. Know-It-All. By the way, we may have to meet up with Barnaby again."

"I refuse to-"

"I spy his house. We're back where we started."

Claire turned to where he was pointing. Sure enough, Barnaby's ranch loomed in the distance. For a moment, Claire couldn't speak. She simply sat down and stared at the property with a blank expression. Owen waddled up to her slowly and placed his paw on her front foot, trying to snap her out of her trance.

"Claire? . . ."

He jumped back as her tears landed beside him. Because he was so small and she was so large, they got him very wet.

"Claire, don't cry," he pleaded.

She squeezed her eyes shut.

"This is my fault."

Owen shook his head.

"No, Claire. I was just venting. It's really not-"

"It's my fault the Indominus got out, it's my fault we crashed, and it's my fault we're stuck in the middle of nowhere."

"Claire-"

"And it's really my fault that you're a jerboa. If it weren't for me, you'd be back home, completely safe. I screwed everything up. I've ruined your life."

Owen shook his head. His ears flapped uncontrollably as he did.

"No, Claire, don't say that. We're a team."

Claire lay on her stomach and placed her front feet over her face.

"I knew it was a bad idea to get close to you. Now you have to suffer with me . . ."

Owen blinked.

"Oh, wait! Is that why you didn't want to go out on a second date? Were you trying to protect me?"

Claire sniffled.

"No. It was because I thought you were an asshole."

Owen pursed his lips.

"Oh."

Claire pulled him towards her and pressed him against her cheek.

"I don't think you're an asshole anymore, though. I love you Owen, and I'm sorry I dragged you into this."

Owen smiled.

"Claire, you didn't drag me into this. I came willingly. Besides, I'd rather be here with you than out there on my own."

Claire hiccupped.

"But you're a jerboa-a-a!" she sobbed.

Owen hopped up on the ridge of her snout and lay himself flat on his belly. He held her cheeks with his paws and rubbed his face against hers.

"It's fine, Clairebear. We'll find a way to get me back to normal. Same for you. I don't care how long it takes. I promise I won't give up on you. Not now, not ever. I love you too much to leave you."

Claire whimpered. Owen kissed her scales.

"Don't be sad, Clairebear. We're in this together. Okay?"

She lowed uncertainly. Owen scooted forward on her face and looked into one of her eyes.

"Okay? . . ."

Claire shook her head.

"Not okay! We're in big trouble, Owen!"

"We can get out of it. We've had bad things happen to us before."

"Not like this."

Owen flicked his tail back and forth. Finally, he sighed.

"Fine. This is a little unusual, but I'm sure we can work together and figure something out."

"How. How do you plan to fix this?"

Owen smiled.

"You're gonna have to trust me. Do you trust me?"

Claire bit her lip.

"Yes . . ."

"You sound unsure of yourself."

Claire swallowed the lump in her throat.

"I trust you, Owen."

He nodded.

"Good. Are you ready to go on an adventure with me?"

Claire gave the faintest of smiles.

"I think I am . . ."

He smiled and lowered himself to the ground.

"I'm glad to hear you say that. Now, do you think you can change back soon?"

Claire nodded.

"I think so."

Owen smiled.

"Perfect. Believe it or not, I have a plan . . ."

Claire raised her eyebrow.

"How on earth did you come up with a plan?"

Owen shrugged.

"Maybe my mind is a steel trap. Maybe I'm secretly a genius. Or maybe I saw a motorcycle by the barn and decided that it would be a good place to start."

***TSJWFEW***

Barnaby scanned the landscape from his open-cockpit plane. His scarf fluttered as he made a wide loop, searching the ground for any trace of the hybrid dinosaur. As he soared over the canyon, he did see something moving through the fields by his house. Instead of a dinosaur, however, he saw a redhead woman on a motorcycle. Although he was too far to make out specific details, he was damned sure that somewhere on the vehicle was a small rodent giving her instructions.

With a furious growl, Barnaby adjusted his plane's altitude and whipped out his shotgun.

***TSJWFEW***

Claire clenched her teeth nervously as she sped down a dirt road. Owen clung to the front of her shirt, his ears flapping in the wind.

"You're doing good. Just keep up your speed, okay?"

Claire could feel her palms sweating. She hoped to god that she could hang on long enough to make it to civilization.

"Owen, we should be wearing helmets!" she wheezed through the wind that blew in her face.

"We don't exactly have helmets available to us, Claire," Owen snuffed, "You're just gonna have to make do with what we've got."

"Which is nothing."

"Exactly."

As they tore down the road, Claire became aware of a deep humming coming from behind them. Her first thought was that they were being joined by a second motorcycle, but then the looming shadow of an airplane appeared in front of them. Claire winced.

"Owen, is that a friendly plane?"

He peeked over her shoulder.

"Um . . . You should probably try to outrun him."

Claire screamed as she heard a shotgun blast. She leaned forward and tried to drive faster.

BANG!

"OHGODWE'REGONNADIE!" she wailed.

"No, we won't!" Owen asserted, "Just keep going faster!"

She did as she was told, but after a few seconds, she slowed down.

"Owen, we're both idiots."

He blinked.

"Why's that?"

"He's in a plane. It would be easier to lose him if we were going slower than him."

They rolled to a stop. They could just barely hear the sound of Barnaby cussing as he flew by.

"He'll be coming back around," Owen said grimly, "We'd better figure something out before he does."

Claire nodded.

"We could hide in the brush, but if we do, we won't have access to the motorcycle."

They watched as the plane started to turn.

"Let's keep riding," Owen said quietly, "Moving target, and all . . ."

Claire leaned forward on the bike. Before she could get rolling, something incredible happened. A giant bloodhound leapt up over the horizon and swallowed Barnaby's plane in midair. Claire and Owen watched with hanging jaws as the dog landed and chewed up the remaining scraps of metal.

"That is the weirdest thing I've seen all day, and I'm a jerboa," Owen gaped.

For a minute or two, all they could do was stare at the creature with awe. Then, it sniffed the air and whipped its head around, looking straight at them.

"We should drive," Owen said quietly.

"Yep," Claire replied.

They spun around and started speeding back the way they came. It wasn't long before the dog caught up to them, however. Being the massive creature he was, he covered a wide distance with only a few steps, and he darted in front of them, blocking the road. Claire screeched to a halt and jumped off of the motorcycle. Owen clung to her shirt in terror. The hound approached them slowly, dipping its head down so that they could see eye to eye.

"Greetings, Claire Dearing."

Claire's eyes went wide.

"You talk! You know my name! . . . YOU TALK!"

The dog gave a barking laugh. Claire crouched behind the motorcycle in fear.

"Of course I know your name!" the canine cackled, "I know a lot about you, Claire Dearing. I was sent here to kill you."

Claire gulped.

"Why? Why were you sent to kill me?"

"My employer, Julia Spurr, believes that you are the only one who can defeat the army of our ally, June."

Claire shook her head.

"Look, I'm not enlisting in any wars. You don't have to be afraid of me."

The hound snorted.

"Afraid of you? Oh, I'm hardly afraid of you! Without your precious narrator, you are nothing."

Claire stared up at him with a neutral expression.

"I don't know why I expected a giant talking dog to make any sense."

The hound frowned.

"Oh, Claire. There are things you don't know. You're just a small piece in a massive puzzle. No one will even miss you when you're gone."

"I will!"

Owen crawled up on top of Claire's head and put his paws on his hips.

"If you're gonna kill Claire, you'll have to get through me first!"

"That's the idea . . ." the dog snorted.

As he prowled forward, mouth foaming viciously, Claire felt her last scraps of courage fluttering away in the wind. She backed away slowly, hoping for a miracle.

Poof!

A purple-haired girl suddenly appeared from a sparkling cloud. She ran over to the dog and kicked his foot.

"Did you get my wand?"

The dog coughed up a small stick. It was covered with drool. The girl picked it up daintily with two fingers and grimaced.

"Ew, Bernie . . ."

The dog turned back to Claire and Owen. As he did, Claire began to change into a stegoceratops. The hound chuckled cruelly.

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me. Are you trying to fight me off?"

Claire pushed one of her horns back into her head.

"No! I'm not trying to defend myself! It's out of my control!"

When her hair began to curl into a frill, the dog picked her up with his massive paw. She screamed in pain and began to instinctively whip him with her half-formed tail. He dropped her and gave a mocking grin.

"It looks to me like you're itching to fight . . ."

Suddenly, Owen leapt up from behind Claire's frill and began scratching the dog's nose.

"Leave her alone! She did nothing to provoke you!"

The hound batted him away, and he tumbled across the road. Claire dashed over to help him, falling on all fours along the way. She picked him up with her barely-human hand and shielded him from another attack.

"Owen . . ."

He shook himself off.

"I'm okay, Claire."

She held him against her cheek briefly before putting him down. She ran her front foot over his ears gently.

"Owen, run away. I'm going to distract him."

Owen's eyes went wide.

"Claire, no!"

"I agree with the rat," the hound bellowed, "It's not like I can't hear you, you know. Besides, no matter how far he runs, I will be able to track him down and squish him like a bug."

Claire shrunk away, now a complete stegoceratops.

"If you're going to kill us, make it quick."

The dog shook his head.

"I'm having trouble deciding which of you to kill first," he explained, "I know I want one of you to watch the other die, but I'm kind of torn as to who would be more emotionally crippled by it."

Claire tossed her head.

"What does it matter? We're both going to die, anyway!"

The dog rubbed his chin.

"That's a good point."

The purple-haired girl, who had finished cleaning off her wand, turned to her coworker with a deep frown.

"Oh my god, Bernie. Just kill them! You're begging for something to interfere with our plan!"

He pushed her to the side.

"Shut up! I'm trying to make this as theatrical as possible. What would you know about a good show, anyway?"

The girl sneered.

"You want a show? I'll give you a show!"

She waved her wand around in a graceful spiraling pattern, and four shadowy figures emerged from the ground. They twisted and contorted until they looked very much like velociraptors. At the witch's command, they stepped forward, hissing at Claire.

"Well, well, well. It looks like they're hungry for a meal . . ."

At the sight of the raptors baring their teeth, Claire felt her instincts getting the best of her. She curved her body into a crescent shape, swishing her tail back and forth in warning.

"Oh, joy. It looks like she's going to fight back for once!" the girl cackled.

Claire trumpeted menacingly as the demonic raptors began to circle her. She shook her body, and her plates snapped together, making a loud clattering sound. Owen peeked out from behind her leg timidly.

"Claire . . . Should I try to hold them off?"

She looked down at him with disbelief.

"Owen, you're four inches tall!"

He shrugged.

"Well, I can't let you fight them alone . . ."

Claire looked at him sadly.

"Owen, I have to-"

She was interrupted by the sound of a cheerful marimba. The purple-haired girl placed her wand under her armpit and answered her cellphone.

"Hello?"

She paused.

"Oh hi, Mom! . . . Yeah, I'm with Bernie right now . . . No, we haven't killed them yet . . . Well, I'm working on it, Mother! . . . Just give me a second. God!"

She flicked her wand, and the raptors leapt upon Claire. One of them clamped its teeth around the bullet wound on her frill. With a grip like a vise, it twisted its head. Claire screamed in pain as a crack began to cross her frill like a fissure on an egg shell.

"SCREETSCREETSCREET!"

Owen clawed at the raptor's eyes, but it was immune to his attacks. With a distorted howl, it flung him off. Claire caught him in midair, released from the raptor temporarily. Another apparition launched itself at her side, however, and she tried to shake it off. Owen swung around her horn like a ball on a string.

"Claire, run!"

"I can't!" she wailed, feeling a terrible pain as a set of claws was dragged across her side.

"Claire! Claire! Claire!"

Owen erupted into a fit of random yelling. He had gone somewhat insane from being unable to assist her in any way, it seemed. Claire tuned him out after a second or two, because she was starting to lose consciousness. She could see her own blood mixing with the dirt below her. She was going to die. This was the end.

Of course, she could have been wrong, because the giant bloodhound and the purple-haired girl were fleeing.

But then she saw a flying whale getting ready to swallow her, and decided that she was right the first time.