They had the glassiest eyes. That was Owen's first thought on the raptors. Blue, Charlie, Delta and Echo. The glassy-eyed predators. He wouldn't admit it, but they terrified him. The way they stared, even when he thought he had complete control. You can never have control over something with that many teeth, his conscience told him. It was true. The raptors knew exactly where they were on the food chain. In comparison to the humans, anyways. They had proven that time and time again. Once with a boy named Tyler, only a kid with scruffy brown hair and that cocky attitude. He had tried to feed Delta by hand. Another time with Ronnie, the old caretaker. Ronnie went into the cage, some sort of suicide mission Owen had later thought, and the raptors had herded him and taken him down before Owen could even grab his clicker.

The clicker. Probably the only reason Owen was in charge. He'd seen it on TV. They used it with the dogs, and Owen had figured, why not? Why shouldn't he try it with his raptors? After all, they were just like dogs...only a lot bigger and a lot faster and with a lot more teeth. And for some reason, it worked. Those ancient predators had been taught to follow orders. Taught, but not tamed. No, never ever tamed. He had to remind himself of that fact time and time again. Everytime he thought he had the upperhand he had to keep himself and check and remember that these animals could tear him apart in seconds if he even let his guard down once.

He remembered when he had first arrived on Isla Nublar. He had heard about it, sure. Who hadn't heard about the massacre that had happened the first time they made new dinosaurs? Owen knew it was wrong, what they were doing. How many times were they going to try and prove that? But the first time he laid eyes on those raptors...he couldn't see any reason not to have the island. Those animals were beautiful. Small, for those first months. They'd just hatched after all. He even named them himself. And from that day, they became his life. His main focus became caring for them. Training them. Making sure someone didn't lose an arm to them.

He liked to tell himself they were his only reason for being there. But there was Claire. Claire Dearing who had that amazing hair and legs twice the length of her torso. The creamy white palor of her skin was in perfect contrast to her fire red hair. Maybe he was so drawn to her because in a way, she was exactly like one of his raptors. The way she scrutinised every room she entered. The way she looked when she was rushing - like she was a hunter, searching for a kill. The way she looked at him like he was something to tear apart and eat. And not in the way a normal woman looked at him. No, Claire was predator through and through. She was terrifying. Who made an itinerary for a date? Who avoided Tequila like it was an angry T-Rex? He never got a second date. Heck, he wasn't sure if he wanted one. Owen was more than happy to watch Claire from a distance. She would come to him. Women always went after him.

Yep, it was safe to say that Isla Nublar had been a great idea. He had had his doubts, but now he knew. He had to stay. Where else would the a raptor trainer find work?