"Whelp… that oughta do it Owen," the gruff doctor said, giving a pat to the man's uninjured shoulder. Owen's gaze looked up to the man, shorter than he was and balding, with a potbelly that made him seem almost like a short Santa without the beard. His gruffness was offset by his delicate touch, both with the animals and their handlers, and a certain eloquence in spite of his Texan accent. But Owen knew better than to press his luck with him. Edd Monroe wasn't someone who appreciated hardasses telling him how to do his job, or how to call him.

"Thanks Doc," Owen grumbled, resulting in another, firmer pat on the same shoulder.

"Don't look so glum. Y'know your department head's not gunna fault ya for tryin' to save a life."

"Yeah, but I'll get faulted for not 'having control' over the situation." Monroe only snrked in response, shaking his head as he offered a glass of water to the man.

"Miss Dearing ain't that petty. Sure, she's a bit of a hardcase."

"Who makes an itinerary for a date?" Owen protested, resulting in a guffaw from the good doctor. "L-look, tell me with a straight face that Irene made you an itinerary that had to be followed to the letter."

"No… that was me. I insisted we go to a fancier place for a first date, she wanted wings." Now it was Owen's turn to guffaw, mirth in his tone as he tried not to focus on the dull throb of the pain in his side. "Eeeeaaasy there, Owen," came a soft order. "Don't want you undoin' my stitches. Y'er lucky that yer girl wasn't tryin' to kill." The raptor trainer merely shrugged in response. He honestly wasn't sure at that point.

"I don't know about that, … god, I'm gonna have to file a report today 'bout this… I don't feel like I should be doing anything but sleep."

"From what y'told me, y'jus made a mistake."

"You don't know those girls like I do," Owen pointed out. "They're not teddy bears, and they aren't loyal to me Edd. At the very least, hopefully that told Hoskins off of putting them into a warzone."

"Yer girls ain't bad though, Owen. Do we need to talk about the Big'n again?" Owen shook his head no. Whenever he talked about how the raptors he trained weren't tame to the man, the doctor pointed out, sometimes with slamming old, dusty reports on the table, of the old velociraptors from the first park. "Thas what I —" Before Monroe could finish his gruff and sarcastic remark, the doors to the office opened, with three people all shuffling in. First was Claire Dearing, miss perfect herself with auburn locks that were so straight and clean that they looked like they belonged on a doll — not helped by the fact she wore all white — Hoskins, and some other suit. He was a tall blonde, graying hair on the side with a slicked back combover, a square, handsomely-set jawline and eyes that seemed almost hollow and disinterested; guess one needed to look soulless to work as a corporate goon.

"Mister Grady," Claire greeted, looking him up and down with a hint of annoyance.

"Trust me Claire… it looks worse than it is. Doc stitched me pretty good." The parks director only seemed to look on in shock at Owen's shiteating grin with something hard to read.

"Mister Grady, I was not that concerned for you!" she pointedly stated.

"Is that why you're here? All business and straight faces?" Claire only took a moment to look at Hoskins stifling a chuckle with his arms crossed around his broad chest before clearing her throat.

"Mister Grady… I —"

"Why're you callin' me Mister Grady?" Owen asked, his expression now amused at how he'd already gotten her riled up.

"Owen… if you're not too indisposed, I'd like you to meet someone. You and Mister Hoskins are already acquainted."

"Acquainted isn't the right word… I'd prefer to think that Owen and I have a strong, professional relationship," Vic said. The way that the words dripped from his mouth spoke of obvious flattery, and Owen was too tired to point out that Hoskins suck-uppery had veiled threats behind it all the time.

"But… given this incident, we need to report and document what happened between you and the assets."

"The 'assets'?" Owen started dangerously, already shuffling past the suit to stand up to Claire. He wasn't having it. "Look, I get it. You're in charge out here, you gotta make a lotta tough decisions. It's probably easier to pretend these animals are just numbers on a spreadsheet… but they're not… they're alive." Dearing's gaze averted, her perfectly makeup likely hiding most of her annoyance.

"I'm… fully aware they're alive."

"You may have made them in a test tube… but they don't know that. They're thinkin' 'I gotta eat.' 'I gotta hunt.' 'I gotta —'" Owen didn't have the chance to finish before the other suit cleared his throat.

"Owen, we at InGen absolutely and fully understand that these animals are alive: living, breathing biological attractions. But this isn't a matter of dealing with the viewpoints of yourself versus the corporate bureaucracy." His tone was flat and almost unimposing, rather quiet as well in spite of his stature, but he at least carried the respect to refer to Owen by his first name, and managed to gain an annoyed glare from Claire; he already liked this man. "This is a matter of dealing with an incident between handlers and their animals, ensuring that safety was kept as a primary concern through the ordeal."

"And you are?" Owen flatly retorted, not really interested in all the legal jargon that he had to likely go over.

"Douglass. You can call me Doug," the suit replied simply, offering his hand to shake. Owen could already tell he liked Douglass a lot more than Claire. He seemed particularly respectful and personable, quiet even, if not a little serious, and that much was evident in his firm handshake.

"As you are hopefully aware, Jurassic World and all the smaller Jurassic Parks are under the conglomerated ownership of Masrani Global. However, the animals that you work with are owned by InGen. This includes your velociraptor pack."

"Yeah… what does that have to do with what happened out there?" Owen interrupted. Douglass turned to Claire, who cleared her throat as she handed out a set of papers to Owen with a pleasant doll's smile.

"New policy that happened after the last accident with your raptors. After the incident was reported by InGen Security Division, Masrani worked with the InGen's legal department to present to myself and Mr. Masrani new policies and procedures to deal with containment anomalies, breaches or accidents between handlers and the assets."

"Animals," Owen corrected, resulting in a pair of rolled eyes.

"The point is, Mister Grady —"

"Owen!" he corrected again, the handler's uninjured arm rubbing at his throbbing side in irritation. Claire took an exacerbated sigh as she bemoaned the unprofessionalism of the handler, Dr. Monroe already excusing himself in knowing what was coming. Hoskins looked downright beyond amused now, and Doug had pursed his lips in knowing where this was going as well.

"Owen… I need you and Mister Hoskins to sit down and talk with me and Mister Francis on the events of the incident… if only to ascertain that what happened was within the confines of your contract." Owen nodded slowly, having known that was what was going to be asked after Doug had given him the rundown. He just enjoyed pushing Claire's buttons enough to make her want to rethink every life decision she ever made. Though Doug's disinterested stare at his unprofessionalism and Vic's annoyed sigh, it seemed, were the final straw in that matter. Business needed to be at the table now.

"Alright… you wanna take this to another office?" Doug only took a seat, offering to Claire one of her own and grabbing a clipboard from Hoskins as he took his seat next to Owen.

"Gentlemen… if you reread your updated contracts as shown in the memos that Miss Dearing sent you, Jurassic Parks & Recreations LtD is not permissibly liable or responsible for any unduly reckless actions undertaken by the handlers with their animals, or those that violate the asset containment procedures for the park in question or InGen Security Division. If you should be found to have acted within the best of your ability and understanding of the animals, as well as within the confines of asset containment procedures as laid out by Jurassic World, InGen Security Division, and as deemed acceptable by the legal department of Masrani Global, then the company will duly compensate for recovery, treatment and care."

"And if not?"

"Then InGen reserves the right to suspend or terminate your contract Owen. S'pretty simple stuff," Hoskins butted in, a shiteating grin on his face just as much as it had been at the pen. Owen's skin crawled a bit at that, knowing that Vic might take this as an opportunity to get someone more cooperative in on training raptors for warfare.

"Alright then… why don't we start at the beginning… Montoya lets the pigs out. How did one get loose?" Hoskins chuckled at Owen's bluntness, having the trainer having wanted to know who was stupid enough to try and move the pig that early.


Well… Owen couldn't say that he wasn't relieved or could complain. A week of paid vacation where all he needed to do was kick it back and potentially kick this stomach bug, the raptors weren't going to be put down and he found someone that could give Claire a run for their money beyond him; Doug proved to be intelligent enough to know what he was talking about, while also being respectful to the grunts like him who worked with these animals every day. Claire's seeming disinterest in the intelligence of his animals had gotten under his skin. "For a dinosaur" seemed to be a comment she liked to parrot every so often when Owen pointed out repeatedly the intelligence of his girls to the group. He understood that the risk that Owen took was very stupid, but didn't consider it to be "unduly reckless" by comparison to working with other dangerous animals. Plus, no one but him had gotten injured, and it was just bad luck at that point! Hoskins had pointed out that Owen largely seemed to have the situation under control until Echo had jumped from the side.

However, was he was immediately suspicious of Hoskins' vouching for him. He knew the department head for InGen Security was vying for weaponized dinosaurs. Though, when it came time to ask on IBRIS, Hoskins had pointed out that Owen's training was going well enough that the raptors could eventually be proposed to Masrani Global as part of an attraction instead. He liked the idea, of course, but didn't trust Vic to keep his word on InGen's assistance in that regard. When he confronted Vic about it after, it seemed that the wardog had a change of heart on the idea.

"Owen, buddy, amigo, listen: I know you and I don't like what each other wants to do… but after what I just saw… it's clearly your show, and if you think that they're too dangerous… well… I saw reason number one right there. Maybe you're right; maybe we're not really ready to train 'em like weapons. Let's let Masrani have his petting zoo, and I will help you get those girls somewhere in the park where they can be shown off, 'cause what you do? It's incredible…" Vic's words had a degree of merit to them. But he'd seen how Echo had ruthlessly attacked him like that. Edd had told him to come back every day that week at some point during the day to let him take a look at those stitches and wounds, see if he needed to go Mainland-side for them; he was lucky, too damn lucky for his tastes… all this 'cause he wasn't feeling a hundred percent.

Echo… she was Owen's most aggressive girl, for sure. She was incredibly lucky to have gotten off nearly scot-free beyond the 12 amps. He saw how ACU handled it: cold and without comfort. Much as he knew that lives were in danger at that point, it still hurt to see animals punished for being animals. He had a distinct, sinking feeling that Echo would never trust him again after that, and if one of them never trusted him… the rest would soon follow. Years of training and imprinting, of positive experiences and memories, made worthless by a stupid mistake.

But there was something else to note… Echo didn't kill him. It wasn't for lack of trying, but because of the intervention of one of the other raptors. He thought it was Delta, but he couldn't necessarily tell in the moment as Barry was dragging him out. The fact that happened, the fact that one of the pack intervened on his behalf, it made him feel good enough that perhaps he'd be able to give the eggheads something to study after all, give the IBRIS Project plenty more reason to keep on going.

That was if his stomach could handle it, though. God, even as the morphine he got had kicked him into gear, his stomach was still squirrelly; he couldn't tell if it was hunger or if it was just from this morning at this point. He hadn't said anything, but it was pretty damn clear that whatever was going on with him wasn't going away. At least, not any time soon. He was definitely going to need to use the vacation time to at least get himself checked out on the Mainland. In the meantime, some anti-nausea medicine would do.

Grunting in discomfort as he got up from his spot on the raggedy couch, the trainer made his way to the kitchenette. It was small, rather old and dirty, but it did its job in cooking him up some grub when the need arose. He had to get something in his stomach, try and keep it down with the anti-nausea tablets, and then go and then maybe go out for a bit and get something for the girls; he needed to start building back up the trust he had with them again. Quietly, he hummed something to himself, not really concerned with a particular song, just keeping his mind away from his stomach. While the pan heated up, the trainer opened up his fridge to see if there was anything salvageable. Some bacon, some ham… he could make a grilled BLT… though that didn't sound really all that appetizing.

Opening the freezer, he could see some frozen chicken and some frozen pork, as well as leftover steak from Winston's. Grabbing the steak from the freezer, Owen quickly set it onto the pan, the sizzle of the meat already music to his ears as he grabbed clean glass and began to fill it with water. Food'd be quick to cook, only really needing to be made tender again over the grilltop skillet. Hopefully Barry wasn't having a difficult time. Bless the man for bringing him back his bike, and bless him for dealing with the rest of what they had to deal with that day.


"So this is the raptor paddock?" Douglass asked. Barry nodded, giving a simple "mhm" in response. After taking Owen and delivering his bike back to the bungalow, the handler had been told over the radio by Control that the suit from Veterinary was coming over to inspect it. Given what Owen said to him, he didn't think that the man was going to be a problem. Yet the way he confidently strode up to the paddock without fear, it gave him an off impression. It reminded him of Vic. "Good to see that this is where InGen Security is pushing funding to… how secure?"

"About 4 and a quarter meters high on the walls, three gates, cameras and thermal sensors all over, and separate backup generators in case power goes out due to a storm."

"Didn't skimp out, did we?" Douglass grinned, already scribbling on that clipboard he had been carrying. The suit then took to striding up the side of the treatment pen to the catwalk. There was still blood on the ground next to the treatment pen, mostly dried at this point and most of it was gone, but there was still some. And chunks of Owen's puke were still strewn across the gate's door on the bottom section. He followed Douglass up the stairwell to the catwalk, looking into the pen for any sign of the raptors. They'd been recently fed, and were being quiet for the moment, likely resting in the brush at the far end.

"You know… this is a pretty big space for 'em, isn't it? They could get a running start and head up the walls, yeah?"

"No. We followed notes from Robert Muldoon when submitting the paddock design." The suit turned, almost stunned at the name.

"Muldoon… name sounds familiar… wasn't he the game warden for Jurassic Park?"

"Yes… he didn't get out alive."

"Legal was all over that… said Muldoon got killed by raptors too… paddock on the other side of the island's still over there isn't it?"

"No… most of the Old Park is gone," Barry dryly replied, watching as the man carefully inspected the railings before looking over into the pen. Walking over toward the catwalk over the far brush, the pair could just barely make out the shapes of the pack down below, cradled together in a set of nests. The only one who was awake, however, was attentive Blue, her amber eyes already dangerously tracking the suit.

"Any way we can get a better look at them?" Barry's brow raised as Douglass turned to face him, making a gesture toward the paddock as he did. Clearly the man hadn't been around dangerous animals before.

"No." Barry's answer was short, simple and to the point. He had a feeling that Owen would've wanted to keep the stress to a minimum, given today's events, least of all in having a suit poke around to look at them closer. But Douglass was at least satisfied with the answer, nodding and already wandering back toward the stairway leading back to the dirt floor below.

"What exactly is it you all are studying here? My notes on IBRIS are a little on the fuzzy side."

"Vic doesn't tell?"

"Security Division's tight-lipped, unfortunately," Douglass pointedly said. "Hoskins is a good man with a strong handle on things, but the man likes to keep research projects secret." The Frenchman chewed the inside of his cheek at that, an indignant squawk from one of the girls implying that she may have woken up with a start, or had smacked her head on the side of her pen. Both men looked in the direction before Barry turned back, gesturing for him to follow.

"IBRIS means 'Integrated Behavioral Raptor Intelligence Study. We're here to study on the intelligence of our girls down there, and how it can be linked to other dinosaurs."

"Is it just… commands? Hoskins told me that the raptors were learning to follow orders when we were talking together with Owen."

"That's only a part of it," Barry stated with a warm chuckle, already stepping down the stairway and back towards the shaded control tent nearby as the man followed. "They've been trained to know at least 40 commands, and only about half of them work reliably; it was to test their ability to communicate. But it also goes to tell us what they're thinking. We give them puzzles, games to play. One of their favorites is hide and seek." An eyebrow arched under Douglass' aviators, causing the Frenchman to smile.

"Hi–hide and seek?" he asked incredulously.

"We keep it simple. We give them something to smell, we hide it somewhere in the paddock, and we let them go hunt for it."

"Do they enjoy it?"

"Something tells me they do… they're animals… but even animals play. You see how cats play? It's sort of like that, man." The suit scribbled a few things down on his clipboard before taking off his glasses and taking a seat. Owen was right… his eyes seemed a little cold, almost bored, and even in the more overgrown sections of the island, Douglass looked almost perfectly pressed.

"So… they can track things. That seems like something that's not really of note for this study."

"We're not studying whether or not they can do these things," the Frenchman elaborated. "We've had their abilities documented, and have for a long time. We actually had a paleontologist… umm… Grant, I think. He sent us over some theories he made after his trip to the other island like 15 years ago. Wanted to know if we could prove them for curiosity's sake. It's mostly jargon I don't understand, but from what Owen says… it was on how they go about solving a problem, how they create solutions, how they plan." Douglass scratched at his chin now, rather fascinated by what he was being told.

"And has this project seen any progress with that?" Barry remained tightlipped, his smile unphased as he unashamedly kept his answer brief.

"Finally made more progress today… but you saw how that went." Both men gave a hearty chuckle at that, though Barry's was definitely more sincere.


Blue's scaled lip had begun to curl as she looked up to the high bars. Her clutchmates, asleep in their nests, were unaware of being watched. But she was aware. The soft prey above with Dark One… it didn't make her comfortable enough to sleep when they were so close. Stupid Alpha was gone after she and her clutchmates had been given nasty shocks. Was this soft prey supposed to replace him? Was Stupid Alpha dead? She certainly hoped not. She may have seen Dark One as good to her and her pack, but he was still soft prey. He wasn't like Stupid Alpha. He hadn't always been there.

Echo seemed to have the worst of it. After the shocking had stopped before, she had spent some time patrolling next to the small cage next to the tall walls. She was only stopped with a nip to the tail by the beta, and a warning hiss to leave it alone. Echo had chittered to her that she was being stupid like Stupid Alpha as well. The soft prey would come again and hurt them. Pack disputes were for pack alone, not for soft prey to interrupt with their shocking things.

And now there was the new soft prey up above. He wasn't like Fat One. He was skinny and tall, and seemed way too clean for someone out here. She could smell the unnatural things on him from down below. He wouldn't respect them. She knew it. But she could only watch as Dark One and Stranger chittered away at one-another. What were they chittering about? Stupid Alpha? Surely they were. It made the most sense.

Thankfully, as they left, the raptor felt she could let out an indignant huff and relax again. Though only just for a moment. Dark One would be back. Blue only hoped that Stranger wouldn't be with him. Her gaze flickered to her clutchmates, eyeing between them as a thought came to mind. Play. It was time to play. No more time to sleep. Standing herself up, the proud and ostentatiously-minded raptor gave a long, swift stretch of every lethal muscle in her body, sickle-clawed toes twitching in the motion before settling into a set of taps to the forest floor. She was good. Even if Stupid Alpha had gotten hurt, she knew she was damn good! And she'd make sure all her clutchmates knew that!

Hissing sharply to each of the raptors, Blue was quick to get them up and moving. Charlie was first to her feet, already tiredly garbling the question of if Stupid Alpha was back. Delta, meanwhile, took her time getting up, stretching quietly while Blue debated how best to wake up Echo. One of her toeclaws tapped in thought before she knew the best way to wake up poor Echo. Stupid pack got nips. Lazy pack got nips too. Instead of simply nudging her clutchmate awake, Blue went for a full nip to the side of her tail.

The indignant squawk drew a confused chitter from Delta, made even more apparently confused as Echo hissed every curse she could muster to Blue. Blue held herself high. She was the best. She wouldn't let Echo get to her even if she tried. The scarred sneer only told the beta she had succeeded in her goal. Giving the irritated raptor another nip, Blue then sprinted past her, expecting Echo to give chase. Today would be better, even without Stupid Alpha there to give them drills and treats. And that much was proven as Echo absolutely followed. Between her, Echo and Charlie, the game seemed to be catching one or the other, and then letting the caught one catch the others. It was a fun, simple game, easy to pass the time. Unfortunately, there was nothing they could hunt. It only made the most sense to give the other raptors a passing game to play that wasn't a drill. At least while Stupid Alpha was gone. Life needed to be good, even around the tall walls.


Owen's stomach grumbled annoyingly at him. The food he'd cooked at the bungalow hadn't sat so well, and another steak from Winston's had been undigested and left in the toilet bowl. At this point, he was reserved to just drinking water, and was perfectly fine with that. Thankfully, the anti-nausea medicine he'd been given was working a treat when he didn't have anything in his stomach. The cooler evening had left most of the people to return to the resort across the Lagoon, so he was able to at least hear himself think for the most part.

Sure, it was technically vacation, but he wouldn't tolerate Barry being the one in charge at the paddock. He'd head over to the Mainland within the next few days, get himself checked out, then come back bright as rain after the docs did their magic. For now, Barry needed all the help he could get. And that included in getting the girls a proper treat beyond the rats they fed them. Part of him hoped that it'd be a good enough peace offering, at least, to hopefully get the raptors to trust him again. Apparently Blue had been on high alert at seeing Douglass on high-rail earlier.

"Hey Owen," called one of the waiters. The man turned and looked over… Josh, he was pretty sure. Walking on over, the early 20-somethings waiter couldn't help but put on a friendly demeanor.

"You're rather early in the week for Winston's, man. Your steak treat you well last night?"

"Umm… actually, no. I ended up getting sick and throwing it up this morning, and the leftovers just about an hour ago." Josh's smile seemed crestfallen at that.

"Well… that sucks, man. Anything you'd like tonight?"

"Nah… I'm just gonna get a lot of water, and then sleep it off. But I was gonna ask if you had any raw sirloins I could get." Josh gave a swift nod, already heading over to the back to start grabbing some from the butchery. Winston's, for all it was worth, had some of the best sirloins that Owen could buy. Even more-so with consideration to their price. When Josh came back, there was a bag loaded up with five 12 ounce sirloins. Four for him, one for the girls.

"Alright… that's gonna be eighty-seven forty-nine," he said. Pulling out his debit card, Owen ignored the rolling grumble of his stomach for food while he paid out for the treats.

"Hey, you tell your crew out there that we said hi." Owen couldn't help but chuckle, giving a nod to him.

"I'm sure they'll appreciate it," he replied, heading back out into the noisy crowds toward the employee paths to his parked bike. Getting up and down was a pain, and the dull throb in his side was starting to become an annoying pain again. The ride out to the east side of the island at least wasn't as bad as it was earlier that day, but his shoulder and sides still hurt with every bump, every pothole, every pebble that seemed to slap up toward him. When arriving at the raptor paddock though, with the floodlights already turned on as the sun began to dip over the west, the trainer found that Barry was the only one there waiting.

"Owen! You're looking better."

"Trust me… I'm not feeling better… not yet. How've the girls been?"

"Uncooperative since this morning… made for a fun sight though when they chose to play instead of do drills with me." Owen's brow raised up incredulously as he walked with his trainer toward the paddock, already hearing the chuffs and chitters of the raptors inside. It wasn't like they didn't refuse Barry's commands more often than not. But being uncooperative seemed like par for the course right now. He'd need to build trust again.

"S'that why you told me to bring 'em something special?" Barry only warmly laughed at that, Owen already clambering up the steps, though with some difficulty, to look down into the arena.

"No. That's all you, man. You're the one who insists steak is a good treat."

"Sure it is. Good, lean meat'll keep 'em strong," Owen grunted as he pulled himself up the last stair. He could see Charlie and Blue in the open, chittering away without any attention paid to the metal railing. Reaching into his pocket, Owen pulled out his cricket-clicker. The trainer cleared his throat to make it easier to yell down at them.

"Blue! Charlie!" Owen called. The chittering ceased immediately, with Charlie hissing in dissatisfaction at the interruption as she looked up with Blue. The glimmer in the beta's eyes was unmistakable as she all but bounded to just under the railings with rallying barks to draw the attention of the others. The brush practically shuddered as it parted for Echo and Delta, each of them looking up to him with expectant, though warry glances to their beta. As soon as the other raptors were called up, he could tell that they were antsy. Thankfully, it was only him today, and as soon as they locked up to look up at him, he offered a few clicks, no more than four.

"Alriiiight! Goooood!" he praised. "Damn good, Blue!" The praise seemed to earn a snort of approval from the raptor, only ceasing as Echo snapped at her. The indignant screech nearly drowned out Owen's firmer tone as he attempted to reign back in control.

"Echo, knock that shit off!" Setting the handles of the bag he was carrying on the rails, Owen was quick to start pulling out the prime cuts.

"Ho!" he called out, getting their attention again to look up as he tossed down the first sirloin. "Charlie! Delta! Get out of here!" As soon as he handed off their steaks and told them to go, they were the first back to the brush, leaving just his beta and her competition.

"Blue… this one's for you." The raptor cocked her head, almost intrigued with a chittering chuff. He knew it was routine to save her for last. But he saw the way Echo was mad-dogging him. She didn't care for him, and his assumption was proven right after it was just him and Echo left while Blue tore into her sirloin.

"Echo!" The other raptor hissed, deliberately looking away with obvious malediction in her gaze as she attempted to ignore him. "Sorry for this morning." He knew she probably couldn't understand him. It wasn't like talking to a person. But he kept his tone even and calm, showing that he wasn't angry with the attack. She was just a wild animal. He couldn't punish her for doing what she was meant to do, only acknowledge that he overstepped while offering the fourth sirloin as a peace offering.

Tossing it down to the raptor, Echo only watched it hit the forest floor below with a light thud, tilting her head before snarling at the offered treat and trotting off back to the underbrush. It was unfortunate, but understandable. Echo was headstrong, just like Blue… but unlike her, Echo was particularly vicious and vindictive. When she looked at him, there were points where he could tell she was working out ways to gut him. Isla Nublar had a way to humble people, its animals instinctively knew how to make them feel small. And Owen couldn't help but feel small at the sight of nature at its finest: his velociraptors interacted with each other, intelligently looked up to him and even the way Echo had disdainfully snorted and turned down the offered steak… it all came back to him as telling of the power these animals had so long ago. Owen may not have known John Hammond, but he'd like to think that John would've been proud to see this connection between the modern world and the world of yesteryear.