In the glow of firelight, Muldoon finished his meal of gallimimus meat and vegetables from the garden. It was a productive garden, now that he had properly learned the seasons and knew what cultivation practices worked best.

"That's the last of it," he told the raptor, throwing the scraps into the fire. "We'll have to go hunting tomorrow."

The raptor blinked up at him from her usual position by his side, sleepy with her full belly. Rather than feed on fresh kills, she waited to eat when he did. Basically everything they did was like that. Wherever he went, whatever he did, she followed. Occasionally though, she would lead the way, when there was something she wanted him to see or to understand.

Seven wet seasons had passed since Muldoon had decided to stay on Isla Nublar. He still thought about those men who had died, the one he had killed, and wondered what their stories were. Upon reflection, he knew he had acted badly in regards to them, and had done his best to make amends by giving them (or at least what was left of them), a proper burial. All he could blame his actions on was the heat of the moment and his profound connection with Priscilla. He certainly didn't regret what he'd done, because for the last eight years, she had been a good and faithful companion. She was more than that though, spending so much one on one time with her, he had learned a great deal about the depth of the raptor psyche and the extent of their intelligence.

There were other raptors still on the island, a thriving pack in fact. Wild predators had high mortality rates, about one in five wild lions reached two years of age. Of course there were no rival groups of raptors to threaten them, but there were other dangers on the island, and even infighting could be deadly. Priscilla had certainly witnessed plenty of that in the original group. Evie had managed to raise two out of the three in her first brood, Stripe, the black one, and Patch, the green one, still ran with the pack. The yellow one had disappeared early on, but there had been lots of other fledglings since then. The reason he kept in with them was because of Evie. They had always shared a special bond. Over the years, the matriarch of the raptor pack had brought all the young ones to see him. It was her way of educating them that he was not food.

As for prey, the raptors had plenty of that. The gallimimus numbers had swelled, they ran in huge flocks of up to a hundred individuals. The triceratops and brachiosaur numbers had steadily increased, and there were still a few Parasaurolophus on the island. As for the dilophosaurs, they mainly stuck to the territory they had established around their old paddock. A couple of years ago he'd discovered the wreck of a jeep there, perched precariously atop a small waterfall. Upon investigation it had proved to be Nedry's fate. The irresponsible programmer had sabotaged the parks systems and attempted to flee. Perhaps if he'd stuck around, he would still be alive and this whole mess might have been avoided.

But there was no point dwelling on the past, and besides, life hadn't turned out so bad. He'd always been drawn to nature, feeling more grounded among it. It was why he'd left England in the first place and now he, or rather they, had a whole island to themselves.

He stood and prepared to extinguish the cooking fire.

"Ready for bed?" he asked the raptor. Priscilla rose to her feet and stretched. That was a yes.

They headed inside, the bungalow had held up pretty well over the years, and there had been plenty of tools left behind for when he needed to make repairs.

He stepped inside first, with Priscilla following closely behind, and passed her his hat as was their routine, so she could hang it on it's hook. His hat was a bit worse for wear these days, with the odd raptor tooth hole in the brim, but he didn't mind. While she took care of that he locked the door to keep any roaming dinosaurs out.

Ever since the spider bite they had shared a bed, except for really hot nights when Priscilla opted to sleep closer to the door where it was cooler.

Allowing an animal into that space was a bad habit to get into, and he had never tolerated it with any of the dogs he'd owned, but Priscilla was different. She didn't really belong to him, she stayed because she chose to, and that was a privilege he never took for granted nor could shun in anyway. As for her being a wild animal, he never could have tried it with a big cat, no matter how much time and care he'd spent, he'd have certainly ended up with his throat ripped out. Raptors were different though, they never acted on instinct alone, there was a higher level of thought process always present. He trusted this raptor like one might a close human companion. That didn't mean he couldn't be hurt, but because it was her, he knew he wouldn't be.

Priscilla sprung onto the bed, still sprightly enough to do it easily, and spun around twice until she found the exact spot she wanted. Folding her legs under her, she lay down, her chin resting on the pillow. She always fell asleep quickly so he never worried about accidentally waking her in the night.

He climbed into bed and pulled the sheet up under his chin.

"Goodnight, P," he said, closing his eyes to the sound of a raptor purring in reply.

xxx

The following morning he loaded the jeep and headed to the hunting ground. Priscilla was with him, but now that it was just the two of them, he used a gun to take down prey. As they arrived at the place, he noticed the prey animals were all focused on a particular spot, and when he looked in that direction, he saw Temba and Stripe, slowly making their way across the field. Of course it was a ploy, there was nothing random about what they were doing, the other raptors would be around here somewhere, hidden from view, waiting to strike.

He killed the engine and settled in to watch, far enough away as to not disturb the hunt. This was the kind of thing every nature enthusiast longed to see, and though he had spent years working in game reserves in Kenya, and had seen many hunts, watching one was always a thrill. Every hunt was different and success was never guaranteed.

Today the raptor pack didn't seem focused on the gallimimus, but rather on a larger species of herbivore. He watched on fascinated, they couldn't seriously be considering taking on a brachiosaur, albeit a juvenile. Even though it was less than half grown, it was still four metres high and probably weighed ten tons. From his vantage point he could easily see Temba, a pale beacon on the plain. The big herbivores were fairly relaxed, since the death of the tyrannosaur there were no threats that faced them on the island. It was a tranquil scene, until suddenly Evie shot from cover and launched herself at the sauropod. She leapt and hit it high on it's front leg, and then incredibly she climbed onto it's back and then launched up it's neck. Holding tight with her teeth and the claws on her hands, she struck hard with her feet, over and over again until blood poured down the brachiosaur's long neck. The brachiosaur bellowed in fright, while the rest of the brachiosaur herd watched helplessly, they were too big and

slow to defend their herd mate against the swift, little carnivores. Clarice joined the fray, scaling the bigger dinosaur like Evie had, kicking frenziedly too. When a third raptor, Dot, joined in, the combination of the extra weight, fatigue and blood loss, finally toppled their prey. He had heard stories of lions climbing the necks of giraffes and toppling them, but he had never witnessed anything quite like this awe-inspiring spectacle.

With the commotion of the raptor hunt, the gallimimus had all fled, meaning that he and Priscilla were now short of prey. He looked over at the raptor beside him.

"Do you think the others will share with us?"

Priscilla threw them a glance and snorted. It didn't really matter, he knew the prey animals' habits and could track them down easily enough later on.

Now that the brachiosaur was down, all the other members of the pack came in to feed. Of the original hatchlings Evie, Clarice and Temba were all still alive. And from the first wild brood Stripe and Patch had survived. That was a credit to their parents, raising young carnivores to adulthood was a challenge, but Evie, along with Temba and Clarice had taken good care of them.

There were twelve raptors currently in the pack. The youngest ones were the three that had hatched the previous year that he called Smokey, Pearl and Sunny. That was in reference to their colouration and was purely for his own benefit, he didn't interact much with the wild pack. There was also the three-year-old female who had assisted with the kill. He called her Dot because of the big black patch on her neck which stood out on her otherwise rusty-red hide. Dot was quite independent and strong-willed, maybe because she had been raised without clutch mates. If the pack was going to divide, his bet would be that she would be the one to start her own family group. He didn't have much experience with reptiles, but he knew that inbreeding was a common practice in captive populations and it didn't seem to affect them as much as it might with mammals.

The final members of the pack were the three five-year-olds, two blotched ones like Evie and Clarice, and one that was entirely sandy-coloured.

Temba, Evie and Clarice fed first, they were still the dominant animals and led the hunts, but this was big prey so they didn't protest too much when the nine younger raptors crept in to feed too. The three smallest ones, stuck close together, and close to Evie who he assumed was their mother. Although he had never witnessed the raptors lay, so it was possible that both the older females were laying in the same nest.

While most of the raptors had their heads down feeding, Patch and Stripe hung back, scanning the surrounding area for threats. If there was one thing he knew about raptors, it was that they were always switched on and aware of their surroundings.

Beside him, Priscilla grumbled, not happy about the direction of his attention.

"It's alright," he told her. "I just like to know who's still about and see if the situation has changed."

Over the years there had been a few other hatchlings that had disappeared early on, but all of the raptors that made it to adulthood were still alive. He still didn't know exactly what the life expectancy of a raptor was, but if they were like lions or wolves, the older members of the pack were definitely reaching an age where the younger ones might be starting to think about challenging for dominance. Though the way they had stuck together in a family group made him think their social structure wasn't entirely about survival of the fittest and a chance to reproduce. They cared about each other in some form, otherwise the younger males would have been forced to leave by Temba by now.

Priscilla grumbled again.

"Alright, alright," he said, turning the key to start the jeep. "We'll come back later." It was moments like this that Priscilla was more like her namesake than he cared to admit.

AN: I stole this hunt story from a guide in Africa. When asked about giraffe vocalisations, he said he had only ever heard a giraffe make a noise once. When a full-grown male lion attacked, climbing three quarters of the way up the giraffe's neck and toppling it. Imagine witnessing that for real. How awesome is nature!