Chapter Text
Contrary to my initial plans, I spent the rest of the day with Carnis, playing small games to keep her entertained and fostering our bond. Her favourite was to try to climb me when I was on four and to hold on to my back. It earned me some scratches, but it also allowed her to learn to use her paws like hands to have a good grip and to push herself to climb on me. Thinking of the fanfiction where Zach came back in time to prevent the events of Jurassic World, I wondered whether Carnis would love the hide-and-seek game. Still, I couldn’t afford to play it so close to a place where people were.
Despite my exhaustion, her boundless curiosity and occasional mischievous antics brought moments of light-hearted joy to our secluded existence. When night fell, I lay beside her in the makeshift shelter, using my winter coat as a pillow. The ground beneath me was far from forgiving, and her small, wiry body wasn’t exactly comforting to lean against, but her soft breathing and the warmth she radiated were strangely reassuring. It felt oddly like an adventure—a surreal blend of survival and companionship, reminiscent of tales from distant tropical isles.
As dawn crept over the horizon, I stirred, groaning softly as my stiff joints protested against the uncomfortable night. Blinking against the dim light filtering through the trees, I sat up and stretched, wincing as my back cracked in protest. Carnis lay curled beside me, concealed in the shelter, her small form rising and falling with each contented breath. A pang of affection tightened my chest.
She looked so peaceful, so innocent. It was hard to reconcile this delicate creature with the terrifying predator she was destined to become. For now, she was my responsibility—a growing reminder of the fine line between love and vigilance.
I crouched by the shelter, brushing the faint dirt from my pants, and leaned closer. Gently, I stroked her smooth scales, her head tilting instinctively into my touch. “Carnis,” I whispered softly. “Wake up. Dawn is coming.”
Her amber eyes fluttered open, their flecks of gold catching the soft light. She blinked up at me sleepily, her mouth parting in a small yawn before emitting a chirp that carried a mix of curiosity and mild annoyance. She stretched, her small body arching slightly, revealing the developing musculature beneath her silvery scales, her tail curling and uncurling lazily. Her gaze locked onto me, a mixture of curiosity and attachment evident in her expression. Those intelligent eyes seemed to ask a hundred questions before she could even vocalize them.
“It’s time for me to check whether I can join the camp,” I murmured, brushing my fingers over the ridge of her head.
Carnis tilted her head at me, her gaze sharpening. A soft growl escaped her throat, her tail swishing in disapproval. I could feel she didn’t appreciate the few days back in my reality, though I couldn’t blame her, considering the weather at the time.
And it seemed that despite our discussion yesterday, the idea I left her on her own still didn’t sit well with her. It was touching, a bit amusing, and yet comprehensive.
"Don't worry,” I told her reassuringly. “I have no intent to leave you on your own. But you know I can't bring you with me for your safety," I continued, my hand instinctively stroking her head, a gesture meant to calm and reassure.
She chirped again, her tone rising in protest. Her small claws dug slightly into the dirt as she shifted closer, her body language pleading.
“I know, I know,” I said, sighing. “But you have to wait until you’re older to handle things on your own and hold your ground. Right now, it’s too dangerous.”
Her growl turned into a low rumble of frustration, and her eyes narrowed in what could only be described as indignation. If a baby dinosaur hybrid could roll her eyes, she would have done so precisely at that moment. I felt glad she didn’t try to claw at me, even if I could see she was close to doing it.
I chuckled softly, shaking my head. “That’s the curse of growing up, my little feisty. And one day, you’ll deal with it too. Believe me, it’s no fun.”
Carnis huffed, her tail swiping against the ground. She looked at me with a mix of resignation and defiance, her gaze saying everything her small chirps couldn’t.
Straightening up, I fixed her with a gentle but firm look. “Can you stay in the vicinity, please? It’ll make things much easier for both of us.”
She cocked her head, blinking slowly as if weighing my words. Then, with a reluctant chirp, she nodded—or at least mimicked the gesture, her tail swishing as if to emphasize her answer.
I let out a relieved sigh. “Good girl. If you follow me, stay hidden in the thicket and stay alert. I don’t want to lose you—or end up as someone else’s breakfast.”
Her eyes widened slightly, and her body tensed as if preparing for some dramatic leap, but her chirp carried a playful tone, almost like a snicker.
“Don’t get too cheeky,” I teased, ruffling the scales on her neck.
She nipped at the air near my hand in response, her tail swishing again, this time with evident amusement.
Shaking my head with a bemused smile, I leaned down to rummage through the Tupperware. “Let’s start the day with a little breakfast, shall we?”
Her head shot up, and her eyes gleamed with excitement. As I retrieved one of the last escalope pieces, she chirped eagerly, her small claws scrabbling at the ground in anticipation.
“Patience,” I said, holding the meat just out of reach for a moment. Her amber gaze locked onto it, and she let out a series of impatient clicks.
“Here,” I said, finally offering the piece. She snatched it delicately with one of her paws, her sharp teeth tearing into it with surprising precision for something so young.
As she ate, I watched her fondly, the weight of the day ahead settling on my shoulders. Whatever challenges lay ahead, I knew one thing for certain: I would do everything in my power to protect her. I couldn't help but marvel at the complex bond developing between us. My fantasy was turning real beyond my belief, and while I was aware I should keep vigilance with her, interacting with her was so unique and a balm to my soul.
When she finished, licking her lips with an air of triumph, I stood and brushed the dirt off my clothes. Her gaze followed me, expectant, curious.
I knelt beside her, stroking the ridge of her head. Her scales were smooth and cool to the touch, and she leaned into my hand with a soft, rumbling chirp, her eyes closing briefly in contentment.
“Stay near the shelter. Please. And stay discreet,” I said, my voice firm but gentle.
Carnis tilted her head, her gaze sharpening with what I could only describe as stubborn defiance. She let out a low grumble, her tail swishing against the ground in protest.
I sighed, ruffling her neck scales. “I mean it. I’ll be back soon. You don’t want to attract trouble, do you?”
She chirped again, her tone rising in playful indignation. Her amber eyes locked on mine, full of that peculiar intelligence I’d grown to adore.
“See you later,” I said, rising to my feet. Her eyes followed my movement, and she let out a soft, reluctant trill, as if to say, Hurry back.
As I walked down the path I’d followed the previous day, I glanced back once to see her still crouched near the shelter, her form blending into the undergrowth. Her gaze stayed fixed on me until I disappeared into the trees.
The forest opened into the clearing where the camp stood, now tidied and reorganized after the chaotic mess left by Terk and her friends. The scene looked almost serene, though the occasional faint marks of destruction still hinted at the wild revelry that had taken place.
Then I heard voices, distinct and animated. Jane and her father, Professor Porter, were having a discussion. I slowed my steps, moving closer but staying hidden among the trees. Their words carried clearly in the still morning air.
“Well, he didn’t stand upright. He sort of crouched, like that,” Jane said.
“Really?” Porter responded.
“Supported his weight on his knuckles.”
“On the knuckles!” Porter’s tone was brimming with curiosity.
The conversation continued as Jane animatedly described Tarzan’s movements, mimicking his crouching and knuckle-walking posture. Porter’s delight was palpable, his exclamations of “Extraordinary!” and “Capital!” punctuating her words.
As it played out, I could easily visualize what was happening as the pictures of the scene from the movie came through my mind. I heard some rustling above, and I suspected that it was Tarzan moving to visit the camp and Jane. That inkling was confirmed as Jane protested to Clayton after his words on Tarzan being a fantasy of her mind. I saw a recognizable shape jumping in the middle of the camp. I heard the voices exchanged and winced at the sound of a gunshot ringing through the woods, a sharp, startling noise that echoed in the clearing.
Listening further to the next part of the discussion occurring like in the movie, I caught Tarzan’s distinctive growl and Clayton’s increasingly baffled attempts to communicate. A small snort escaped me when Tarzan echoed Clayton’s shouted “Go-ril-las!” with comical accuracy. The hunter’s exasperation and the ape-man’s mimicry made the whole exchange feel like a sketch from a comedy routine.
Then, Jane intervened, her patience visibly thinning as she decided to take matters into her own hands. “Mr. Clayton, I think I’ll take it from here,” she said firmly.
The memory of what came next in the movie surfaced in my mind—Tarzan learning English through Jane’s gentle guidance, leading into the iconic “Strangers Like Me” sequence. The melody of the song played faintly in my head, and it took an effort not to hum along.
Suddenly, I heard movement behind me. A soft rustle, followed by a familiar sound—a chirp that carried a mix of guilt and playfulness.
I rolled my eyes and turned around. Carnis stood there, her body half-hidden in the undergrowth. She let out a low trill, her tail flicking behind her. Her amber eyes were locked on me, a mixture of determination and mild defiance gleaming in their golden flecks.
"You can't keep waiting, girl, are you?" I asked softly, my tone a blend of exasperation and fondness.
She chirped, a sound that was part question, part protest. Her tail swished against a fallen leaf, betraying her restlessness.
I crouched down, meeting her gaze. “Let me guess. You heard the noisy, frightening sound and got worried for me.”
Carnis tilted her head, a series of quick, staccato chirps escaping her. Her claws scraped softly against the ground, a gesture that seemed to say, "Of course I was worried."
“Don’t worry. It wasn’t aimed at me,” I said, reaching out to stroke her head. Her scales were cool, and she leaned into my touch, her growl softening to a gentle rumble. “It was something happening in the camp.”
Carnis glanced toward the campsite, her nostrils flaring as she sniffed the air. Her sharp gaze shifted back to me, questioning.
“There’s been some movement there,” I said. “I know I can join now if I want.”
She chirped, tilting her head as if waiting for my decision.
“But that won’t be now,” I continued with a sigh, ruffling her neck scales. “I need to wait for the right moment.”
Her tail swished in mild frustration, and she nudged my hand with her head, her amber eyes full of both affection and reproach.
“I know, I know,” I murmured. “Just a little longer.”
"Let's go back to the shelter," I said, my voice firm but gentle. "You know you shouldn't stray away too much."
She huffed, a surprisingly human-like expression of disagreement. Her claws dug slightly into the soft earth, a testament to her reluctance.
I looked at her softly, understanding her anxiety. "I know you don't like being left on your own, and I'm certain you're worried about me. But so am I for you. You don't know what dangers you can face here, and there's Clayton who could find you if you stray too close to the camp."
Her response was a low, rumbling chirp—part acknowledgment, part continued protest. Her eyes never left mine, that mixture of trust and wild intelligence that was so uniquely Carnis shining through.
I slowly moved back on the trail I had walked through to go near the camp. Carnis followed me. It took a few moments to rejoin the shelter we had built for her. The little indominus rex padded inside, settling into her favourite corner with a huff, her tail curling around her body.
I crouched beside her, smoothing a hand over her head. “Good girl,” I said softly. Her eyes half-closed in contentment, though the occasional flick of her tail betrayed her lingering frustration.
Reaching for a nearby branch, I had an idea to keep her occupied and maybe teach her something new. “Let’s play a game,” I said, grabbing her attention immediately. Her head tilted, curiosity replacing her irritation.
"Watch this," I said, carefully tracing the letter 'A' in the ground. “This is a letter. It’s part of something we call an alphabet. Humans use it to talk to each other…on paper.”
Her gaze darted between me and the symbol, her amber eyes narrowing with focused interest, tracking each stroke of the branch. Encouraged, I drew a B next to the A, explaining as I went. “These letters make up words, like your name—Carnis. If I wanted to write it, it would look like this.”
I carefully etched C-A-R-N-I-S into the ground. Her eyes widened, and she chirped excitedly, her tail sweeping behind her.
Suddenly, she reached out with her own small paw, grabbing a thin piece of bark. With surprising determination, she attempted to mimic my movements, her claws awkwardly gripping the makeshift drawing tool.
Her first attempts were wild—more scratches than letters. But she was persistent, her tongue slightly protruding in concentration, much like a child learning a new skill. I couldn't help but smile in fondness and amusement, watching her try to reproduce the 'A' I had drawn.
"Close," I encouraged, gently guiding her paw. "Like this."
She chirped, a sound of frustration mixed with excitement. Her next attempt was marginally better, the lines more intentional.
“See? You’re learning.” I laughed softly, ruffling her scales. She chirped again, her tail thumping against the ground in delight.
After our little drawing lesson, I knew it was time. I looked at her, my expression serious.
"It's time for me to join the camp. Please, don't follow me this time. I don't want you to be noticed."
Carnis let out a low, protesting growl. Her tail swished, and she fixed me with an almost defiant look.
"I'm serious, Carnis. I would be full of worry if something happens because you try to follow me."
She chirped, a sound that seemed to say, "But I worry about you too."
I chuckled, "He! Don't make that face. I'm aware of what I may encounter."
Her tail flicked, and she nudged my hand with her snout. Her amber eyes were a mixture of concern and reluctance.
I stroked her head, feeling the cool smoothness of her scales. "I promise I'll see you every day and tell you everything that happened."
She let out a soft trill, part acceptance, part continued protest, finally settling down with a small huff of resignation.
"Good girl," I murmured.
With a final gentle scratch behind her ridge scales, I stood. Carnis remained in the shelter, her gaze locked on me—watchful, protective, and just a bit worried.
I watched her as she curled up in the shelter, her amber eyes tracking my movements until I disappeared into the trees.
The thick jungle canopy overhead filtered the sunlight into dappled patches of gold, and I made my way cautiously, my heart beating a steady rhythm of anticipation. As I approached the Porters' camp, I adjusted my pace, stepping deliberately to make my presence known without startling anyone.
The camp came into view, a collection of canvas tents and equipment that contrasted sharply with the wildness surrounding it. A soft breeze rustled through the foliage, carrying the faint smell of supplies and the subtle hum of human activity. I hesitated for a moment at the edge, then stepped forward, my steps still measured and deliberately casual. The sounds of rustling fabric and murmured conversations filled the air. Sunlight filtered through the canopy, casting dappled shadows across the clearing. I deliberately kept my posture relaxed, yet alert—the stance of a weary traveller.
"Hello?" I called out, my voice deliberately pitched to sound tired and slightly uncertain. "Is there anyone there?"
The camp was quiet for a moment, then I heard the sound of footsteps. Turning toward a large tent, I saw Clayton emerge. His sharp gaze took me in, lingering briefly on my modern clothing and scanning me with a mixture of suspicion and irritation.
Behind him came Professor Archimedes Porter. He leaned forward as if he wanted to get a better look at me.
“Who are you, and what are you doing here?” Clayton asked, his tone clipped and wary.
I took a breath, steadying myself. “I’m Marc,” I began, my voice calm but carrying the weight of my supposed plight. “I’ve been wandering for a while in this damned jungle until I stumbled upon your camp. May I ask who you are?”
Before either could respond, Jane and Tarzan emerged from the tent. Jane's blue eyes widened in surprise at my sight. Tarzan stood slightly behind her, his muscular frame coiled with a predatory alertness, studying me with intense curiosity.
“Father?” Jane asked, her voice tinged with apprehension.
“His name is Marc,” Archimedes replied, inspecting me over his spectacles. “A wanderer, it seems.”
Clayton’s lips pressed into a thin line, his disapproval clear as
he stepped closer, his round frame exuding a mixture of warmth and scholarly interest.
The old professor took a look at me and then at my clothes. I really hoped it wouldn’t trigger red flags in the Porters. Clayton would be distrustful and vigilant regardless of how I looked, but if Archimedes and his daughter were to suspect something amiss in me, that might be more problematic.
"Hmm, most interesting," he muttered, looking me up and down. Clayton rolled his eyes, a subtle gesture of condescension.
I turned to Tarzan, offering a gentle smile. "Hello there."
“Hello there,” I said, glancing at Tarzan.
I held back a chuckle at the earnest repetition and gestured to myself. “Marc,” I said slowly.
“Marc,” Tarzan echoed, his brow furrowing in concentration.
Jane stepped closer, her eyes lighting with curiosity as she took in my attire. “I’m Jane Porter,” she said, offering a polite nod. “And you’ve certainly caught us by surprise. May I ask how you found yourself here?”
I inclined my head. “Greetings, Miss Porter. I hope I didn’t poorly stumble into your camp.”
Jane gave a soft laugh, waving her hand dismissively. “Not at all. But how did you come to be wandering in the jungle?”
“I’m a traveller,” I explained, keeping my tone measured and earnest. “I’ve lost track of how long I’ve been in this jungle. I stumbled across your camp by chance and hoped you might offer some shelter—if it’s not too much trouble.”
Jane’s expression softened, her concern evident. “Of course—”
“Miss Porter, need I remind you we’re here to study gorillas, not host every stray who wanders in?” Clayton interrupted, his tone sharp.
Jane turned to him, her brows knitting in displeasure. “Mister Clayton, please. The poor man looks like he’s been through quite an ordeal. We can’t simply abandon him in the middle of the jungle.”
After a momentary tension, Clayton sighed but relented with a curt nod.
The young woman looked back at me with a warm smile. “You’re welcome to stay for now. We can at least provide you with some food and rest.”
Relief washed over me. “I thank you for your generosity.”
Archimedes stepped forward, his round face alight with curiosity. “Welcome, my boy. Any traveller in need is a friend to us.”
I nodded gratefully. “Thank you, Professor.”
Tarzan’s gaze flitted between us, his curiosity undiminished. His wide-eyed observation carried an almost childlike wonder.
I smiled at him. “I guess we’ll be interacting a lot in the coming days.”
“Interacting,” Tarzan repeated, a slow smile spreading across his face.
As I turned to the others, I caught Clayton’s scrutinizing glare. He seemed to weigh me, his mind likely calculating whether I’d be an asset or a burden. His subtle grimace suggested he leaned toward the latter.
Suppressing a sigh, I resolved to tread carefully. And as Jane gestured me toward a spare seat by their equipment, I found my thoughts drifting to Carnis, already planning how to maintain our secret meetings without drawing suspicion—especially from Clayton.
Well, that was something to plan. The last thing I needed was either the hunter tailing me to the shelter where Carnis was or my little dinosaur going to the camp out of concern for my absence. Neither scenario was something I wanted to see come to fruition. I really needed to be smart on that matter.