Author's Note: My first fanfic! I'm messing with chronology here. This is set a little after The Lost World, but there's at least a decade of time between that and the third JP. In this fic the raptors have names based on distinctive attributes, and they're not so much names as details that stick in the other raptors' minds. 'Clever' is a reference to Clever Girl.

Enjoy!

/-/-/

Gone.

On the banks of a river, far inland from the ocean, despairing cries and howls rang out against the pitch black night. Herbivores and carnivores alike made an extra effort to keep their distance, knowing all too well the reason for this mourning. The tyrannosaurs especially kept away, understanding on some level that they were, to some extent, the ones responsible.

The tyrannosaurs, in their fury at their hatchling having been stolen and injured, had pursued the humans far inland. They had not noticed that their path of rampage had taken them straight through the nesting site of the Velociraptors.

Gone! All gone!

All of the eggs had been crushed.

Now, several nights after the pale, fleshy creatures-the humans-had left the island, the pack still mourned. At first, the humans had been a great feast, having wandered straight into the grass, straight to the raptors. There would be meat to last for weeks, but some humans had escaped. They had gone straight for the compound, and the raptors, still in a frenzy, had followed.

Standing on the riverbank, separate from her pack as they cried into the night, the alpha raptor remembered.

Of her pack, there were now only seven, when once they had been eight. The youngest three, only a few months, had remained at the nest during the hunt and only come after the bloodbath, called by the alpha and second beta. The rest had gone ahead, in pursuit of the remaining humans.

Three had gone. Only two came back. They returned broken, for their inattention had cost the life of the one who'd gone after the human by herself. Two of them had fought each other, when they should have been helping the young one. It shamed the alpha, to know that her mate had been distracted by something so simple as a playfight.

But the mourning had only just begun.

After the humans left, taking with them the buck and the hatchling tyrannosaurs, the pack had returned to the nest, to recover from their loss. As they approached, the air thickened with the smell of blood. They had been alarmed, and then... then they saw what had happened to their nest.

The ground was torn, and the eggs were crushed, crushed by the rampage of the tyrannosaurs as they hunted the humans who had stolen their hatchling. With such provocation, they tyrannosaurs could not truly be blamed, as it was the humans who had come and disturbed the island to begin with. Still... the eggs were gone, and the pack was suffering.

The alpha turned away from the river and stepped back to one of the nest-her nest. There had been only two, hers and her mate's, and that of their betas. Still, with almost sixteen eggs per nest, this was a devastating loss. Gently, she nosed the eggshells, lying cold and shattered in the dirt.

She gave a soft series of clicks, raspy and halting. She had kept composed for the sake of her pack, since her first wailing realization of what had happened. As they howled their pain for all to hear, she kept her sorrow contained.

Next year.

There will be more eggs.

But...

There was a touch to her neck, and she lifted her head from the broken nest. Her mate had come over, and the cries of the rest were dying down. He clicked at her, and nuzzled her neck a second time. She brushed his side with her tail, and felt just a little better. But only a little.

Nothing could replace these eggs, at least not until next year, next breeding time. Until then... well, it had only been a few days since the humans had left, so the incident was still fresh in their hearts. They would cope, and they would heal. They could not go after the ones responsible-not the humans, far away, and certainly not the tyrannosaurs-so they would just have to keep doing what raptors did best.

Surviving.

There would be eggs again. In the meantime... the alpha raised her head and gave a throaty hoot, getting the attention of the pack. Eagerly they stood, waiting for her word. She was their leader, after all, and they would follow. She had earned her position, by knowing her pack, though her substantial prowess no doubt helped her keep her leadership. She was largest of them all, with the largest claws.

Claws, like the menacing sickles that set the raptors apart. Hers were the largest, sharpest, and so that was how the others saw her.

To all of them, she was Talon.

Her mate was beside her, no doubt already thinking of advice to give her. That was what he did best-he considered what was best for the pack, especially in times of strife, when the rest of them were angry. He was the emotional rock.

He was Clever.

Not far to the side, that was where her betas stood. One of them, slightly smaller, was the last remaining of Talon's nestmates, and she could still remember back when they tussled amongst their brothers and sisters. He was always aggressive, but she had never found that to be interesting. The dark pattern on his back was far more distinctive.

Stripes.

His mate hovered next to him, her eyes dark with pain and anger. It was her nestmate who had been killed only a few days ago, and she was bitter. Talon knew that if the humans were still on the island, she would have gone after them, and none of the others would be able to stop her. She was so much faster than them, after all.

She was Quick.

The youngest three were gammas, and would remain gammas until they took mates. They might live for years and still hold that rank, especially in a pack as small as theirs. Two males and a female, they were waiting for her word with a nervous energy. Talon only looked at them for a moment.

The biggest one, making his odd, perpetual clicking noise, seemed almost unable to contain his anxiety.

Ticker.

Then there was the female, Talon and Clever's hatchling, the one who had suffered an unfortunate burn to her tail, from a brush fire when she was very young.

Burnt.

Lastly, there was the smallest raptor, with the leg lame since birth. A hatchling of raptors who were both now dead, he had been thrown from the nests for his limp. However, he had survived, and Talon had accepted him back after seeing such determination. Still... he was not whole. He had the best sense of smell, but he could not walk right.

Hobble.

All of them waited for her command. They had seen the humans leave, in the airborne metal monstrosities, but there could still be humans on the coast. Talon knew this, and suspected the others did, too. Nosing the air, her tail lashed to the side, and she gave off a short, succinct snarl.

Find them.

If they are here, hunt them.

Her pack responded with a cacophony of growls and shrieks, proving that they were ready. Talon pivoted sharply and took off into the underbrush, her pack following behind. They would make their way to the coast, to the thrashing waters, and if the humans were still there, then the raptors would take from them what was taken from the pack.

Find them! They will take no more eggs!

The pack surged through the jungle, their howls now filled with a fearsome bitterness, piercing the night and warning all other creatures to stay away.