Rating: M for violence/gore, strong language, adult themes and more. Read at your own discretion.

Summary: Royce once promised Isabelle he'd find them a way home… but nine months later, he's holding his infant daughter, tears staining his cheeks. He's determined to protect her no matter what but things take an interesting turn when the Yautja learn there's an Ooman pup on the loose.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Predators/Aliens universe, all rights belong to Fox and all the respective parties. Also, keep in mind this story is unbetaed and while I preview and edit everything to the best of my abilities, I cannot possibly account for everything. This is also my first fanfic, so go easy on me! :)

Additional Notes: *Hides behind the sofa, waving a white flag* I'm horribly sorry about the hideously wait. I was busy with just about everything you can imagine, from health, family, work and random miscellaneous things... but hey, I did get myself a new laptop! So hopefully that means more updates! Yeah, so here you guys go!

Two Years Later...

As the sun rose and the stars retreated, Dawn awoke and the day began.

Grasping her spear, she checked her surroundings and crept along the thick branches of the tree she slept on. Cujo was down below, stretched out across the ground at the base of the tree, his great leathery flanks rising and falling slowly. Dawn watched him for a few minutes, head cocked and eyes probing as she judged the authenticity of his slumber.

Yesterday, when she had tried this, she had gotten pinned a mere twenty seconds after her feet touched the ground. The day before that boasted twelve seconds and then the day before that she hadn't even made it down the tree before getting caught.

Today, she was determined to make it thirty seconds, if not to fully escape her guardian's care.

Armed with a new escape strategy, Dawn slithered across a long branch that extended several yards from the tree, carefully making sure there were no creaks or groans, no falling leaves or snapping twigs. Every minuscule rustle of noise made her freeze and glance back at the slumbering hellhound in tense apprehension. Cujo slept lighter than an antelope in the middle of a saber-tooth tiger den and if Dawn was going to succeed in her mission, she needed to keep her calm.

Swallowing, she breathed in deep and swung herself down, dangling by one hand, her spear in the other, head tilted towards Cujo as she summoned her courage. Raising her spear arm and taking careful aim, she reared back, swinging slightly in mid-air as she launched her spear. The slim metal weapon cut through the air with deadly precision, deftly impaling her target and triggering the device. A bundle of hide scraps tied together with a vine dropped from the tree a few feet from Cujo and her guardian was on his feet in an instant.

Just as Cujo pounced on the bundle, Dawn dropped soundlessly to the ground and crept backward, keeping her feet from stirring the hatchwork ground of leaves, sticks, and pebbles. Cujo bared his teeth at the bundle, nosing it with his massive snout as he tried to puzzle out the strange package.

Almost there, Dawn thought, forcing herself to keep her cool, just a little further—

As if on cue, Cujo swung his head around and Dawn made a break for it.

Spinning on her heels, she leapt, the roar of an angry hellhound like an explosion behind her.

Plummeting through the air, she straightened herself as rigidly as her spear and a split-second later, her feet hit the water, her body dropping like a stone beneath the waves. Dazed, she floated lifelessly in the water, watching bubbles from her nose wobble to surface. She felt like she was suspended in mid-air, floating and flying at the same time, encased on all sides in a cold embrace.

Dawn had always liked the water. There was something serene and captivating about it. Whenever she broke through the surface, she felt like she was leaving a whole world behind in favor of one of air and earth— one less interesting than that of the deep blue. If she could swim forever, she would but even she knew she was not a creature designed with aquatic life in mind. Sure, she could float and swim but could she breathe underwater, cut through the water quickly as a fish, read the currents and navigate them as accurately as a seal? No, of course not. This is why her lungs screamed for air and her vision darkened in warning, urging her to seek the surface. Obeying her body's instincts, she lunged towards the surface, breaking through the mirror surface into the world she rightfully belonged to. Immediately, she could hear Cujo's frantic barking and snarling above her, her guardian unable to pursue her and stuck on the cliffside she had plunged from.

Twirling in the water, she waved gleefully up the hellhound and let out a reassuring yip. The hellhounds panic abated somewhat but only in that he stopped trying to find a way down the sheer drop. He did not cease his barking, anger replacing worry. Dawn just splashed around playfully before swimming for the far distant shore on the other side of the lake. A destination that would take her around fifteen minutes to reach and Cujo about an hour.

Pleased with herself, she paddled serenely across the great blue expanse, feeling proud and smug of her accomplishment. Cliff-diving wasn't something she did often and the last time she had tried to cannon-ball into the deep blue, she hit a sunken tree and nearly broke her leg. Cujo hadn't let near another cliff for weeks after that and Dawn herself had thoroughly scared herself from diving off any more ledges.

Today, she had taken a risk, hoping to cleanse herself of her fear while testing the waters both literally and figuratively.

As she finally reached the bank, tiny shells and broken bits of shelf crunched underneath her weight as she hauled herself out of the water, taking with her bits of lake weed and chunks of muddy slime. Once completely out of the water, Dawn took a moment to catch her breath and enjoy the morning atmosphere.

The jungle was hot and humid. A blanket of early morning fog lay across the dense green canopies and a sprawling mist crept across the treacherous ground, hiding roots, holes and all manner of small reptiles and insects from view. The rain forest was a gigantic maze where no leaf nor tree looked the same, yet it still managed to get you turned around and lost in less than ten minutes. However, a vast river system of interlinking streams, ponds, and two massive lakes could be used to help you find your way. One need only steer clear of the saber tooth tigers that hunted along the water's edge and you might find you way out of the jungle.

Despite the danger of the rainforest, Dawn had decided from day one that this was the perfect place to explore. From sprinting through the foilage along well-worn game paths, to climbing the tallest kapok and baobab trees, swinging from the great drapery of vines and leaping over the many hidden ridges and hollows. It was a wild ride of adventure and thrill and to someone Dawn's age, it was the best and most immersive playscape ever.

However, to Cujo, her ever-present and nurturing guardian, it was a hellish nightmare of constantly losing track of her and never knowing which tree she was in. For a creature who couldn't climb and wasn't inherently curious of their surroundings but was pragmatic and favored well-placed caution over blithe adventurism, the jungle was not a favorable environment for child-rearing, especially for energetic wild monkey children like Dawn. The said hellhound was most likely galloping to her location with a speed that rivaled the fastest antelope— and at that thought, Dawn decided it was high time to get back on target.

Escaping Cujo was only part one of her mission, the second part was to retrieve her spear. There was no hunt that she did not embark on without her trusty weapon. While its origins remained unknown still, Dawn was proud of her sharp-stick. However, as of recent, the once sharp and mighty spear was letting her down lately. It was not as keen as it used to be which really cut back on its efficiency. The metallic finish was dull and grit caked the grooves and edges, making her grip faulty and unsure. Nevertheless, it was the only weapon she had and it needed to be retrieved.

Jumping back into the tepid waters of the lake, Dawn began the weary swim back to the cliff she had plunged off of.

Taking her a little longer than it did to reach the shore, she hauled herself onto a rock at the base of the cliff and peeked over her shoulder at the hazy shoreline she had left behind. She could just barely make out the bluish-grey blob that was Cujo, angerly pacing the water's edge, most likely seething on the inside at her deception.

Dawn grimaced at the sight. Once Cujo caught her, she would be in a heap of trouble, that was for sure.

Climbing the cliff face wasn't especially difficult for her. Mud provided friction and rocks and roots jutted out to provide plenty of hand and footholds. Dawn had the stamina and strength to haul herself up as well. Her daily routine was a never-ended grind of climbing and running, pushing herself to her limits and testing herself. Cujo might despair of this but to Dawn, everything was a potential challenge, one that could be overcome by a measure of steeling one's mind and meticulous training. Whether it was gaining the muscles to thrust her spear through the thick skull of a buffalo or the speed in which to chase her prey, everything required diligent training to accomplish and Dawn understood this. Her body, while only that of a five-year-olds, was lean and mean, built for speed and endurance, able to achieve far more than her peers from her homeworld. She was a gymnast, a fighter and a hunter and she looked every bit like it. Her hair was a dark raven black, a snarl of tangles and twigs that reached her collar bone and would get caught on everything. Many times, Dawn would be racing through the trees and suddenly get her head wrenched back, hair caught on some stick. Unlike her raven mane, her eyes were a bright and devious hazel that reminded her of the long savannah grass in the sun and Cujo's eyes when lightning cracked across the sky. While not as golden-brown as her eyes, her skin sported a light sunny tan that would only darken as she got older. And because baths were infrequent and usually at the end of a rough hellhound tongue, Dawn's skin was often smeared in dirt and raw in some places. She itched until she bled and sometimes no amount of itching would make the painful tickle go away. Her scalp was the same way, tangles made dragging her fingers through it almost impossible and occasionally she could even feel the sharp prick of forgotten twig rubbing against her. Sometimes, she would try to wrench and tear at the snags in her hair, ever frustrated with her rat's nest of hair but there was only so much a five-year-old girl could do to a hairdresser's worst nightmare.

Speaking of which, Dawn blew a stray lock of hair out of her face as she scrambled up the cliffside. The breeze kept blowing her hair into her face the farther she went up and once again, her frustration began to mount. She wished she had been born with a tough hide and sharp teeth and claws and no hair at all... like Cujo. Her guardian could survive effortlessly without worrying about tangles and snags, scraping the pads of his feet or getting cut by the lash of a branch as he ran by it. He was built for an environment like this. A predator, through and through.

Dawn huffed in irritation. Whatever she was, was obviously not designed to be a top predator despite her best attempts. Something with soft skin and blunt nails would never make it alone in the wilderness and it was the times when the universe liked to remind her how vulnerable and weak she was, that Dawn was happy to have Cujo mother-hening her.

Now was not one of those times, however.

As Dawn finally scaled the last ridge on the cliff and popped over the edge, she rolled onto her back and gasped for air, panting, limbs numb from exertion. Her hands were bleeding, the skin of her fingertips and palms ripped off by the rocky cliff face. Her feet were much in the same state, grit and grime packed underneath her nails while scrapes and scratches spiraled up her body. She wore no clothing, nothing to protect her delicate skin from the elements and the earth. More scars, she thought numbly, at least Cujo has scars too.

It was a chore to get to her feet and an even bigger one to climb the tree to retrieve her spear.

Sitting on a thick and sturdy branch, she reached out and grabbed the butt of the spear and tried to tug it out of the woodwork. While it was not as embedded as it might have been when it was keen and sharp, it did not come loose easily. After a few minutes of struggling, grunting and annoyed growling, Dawn finally wrenched her spear free... well, most of it.

Shocked, Dawn stared at the missing tip of her spear where the pointy end was supposed to be and then at the part that was still snuggly embedded in the wood. '' No, no, no,'' she murmured, aghast at the unfortunate turn of events. How was she supposed to hunt now? There was only so much rocks would do against the dense bones and tough hide of the prey animals around here and she hadn't thrown any rocks in ages.

Furious, she threw the damaged spear to the ground and let loose a cry of rage.

For a couple of minutes, Dawn sat in silence, unsure of what to do now.

Cujo was definitely on his way back, having caught onto her ruse and now, she was without her primary weapon. The second part of her mission was inadvertently a hopeless failure but the third part was technically still achievable. She didn't need her spear for this part— it's just she never did anything without it. It was the only thing she owned and it went with her everywhere. Without it, she was defenseless.

Ugh... well, best not think about it that way or she'd never accomplish her mission.

Shimming down the tree again, she cast a scathing look at the broken spear and marched off, nose in the air.

Fine!

She would be just fine on her own!

No Cujo to protect her, no spear to hunt with. Just fine!

Coming to a halt on the edge of the treeline, she cast an anxious look back at the broken weapon and hesitated.

Hmmm...

A Few Hours Later...

Far from her home-tree and where Cujo probably was, Dawn eagerly sprinted through the jungle with gusto. She held aloft in hand, the broken tip of the spear, held as one would hold a small dagger.

The sun was full in the sky and the jungle basked in its infinite glow. Puddles shone with jewel-like glimmers and the dew speckled canopies glittered prettily in the sunlight. Dawn, herself, was enjoying the warm air and the scant feeling of mist upon her bare body. The refreshing feeling helped distract her from the stinging pain in her feet as she trotted on open wounds. Dirt and all manner of crumbling ground dug into her wounds and she winced every time she took a step.

This was not the first time she had ripped open her skin like this. Her feet and hands were always getting hurt somehow. However, the usual routine that followed after obtaining a wound was sitting in Cujo's lap and letting the hellhound lick the wound. The sting would diminish to a dull throb and infection was kept at bay by diligent care in the form of daily baths.

But Cujo was not here and Dawn didn't want him here no matter how much pain she was in.

Yet, no matter how many time she reminded herself of this, the urge to give up, sit down and start crying would rear its ugly head and she would have to stop and catch her breath, tempted to throw herself on the ground and let Cujo find her and drag her back home.

Something Dawn would admit, is that the jungle hurt far more than the savannah ever did. The packed earth and sand of the savannah were gentle to her and the weeds were not always trying to trip her. There were fewer things to trip over, fewer branches to snag her hair and fewer dangers hidden in the dense mists. The sunlight was warm and scalding and while prolonged exposure often burnt her skin, it was more familiar and comfortable than this humid and wet environment she was stuck in now. What was once fun and full of adventure, was now turned sour and filled with aches and pains. Dawn could no longer deny she was miserable here. Even if there were more places to swim and more trees to climb, one thing was for sure— her skinny, soft-skinned little body couldn't handle it.

Plopping down on a fallen tree, Dawn began to cry.

Her cries were quiet and muffled as she brought her bony knees up to her chest and pushed her face into them. Her hands hurt, her feet hurt, her head hurt and to top it off, she was hungry. Cujo would have hunted her some breakfast had this had been an ordinary morning but it wasn't, and her tummy was empty and growling now.

How was she ever supposed to accomplish her mission now?

As if on cue, a tingling sensation tickled at the edge of her senses.

Looking up, she frowned as her eyes bounced from thing to thing, from tree to rock, from vine to trough.

Well, that took care of part three.

But where was it? Why could she never catch even a single glimpse of it?

Rubbing tears from her face and smearing faint smudges of blood across her cheeks, she pushed herself to her feet, grimacing as the pads of her feet burned anew. Stubbornly keeping herself from crying out loud, she forced herself to focus on the task at hand— the fourth part of her mission.

Find Whatever-It-Was.

Because Whatever-It-Was was the reason she and Cujo had moved from the savannah to the jungle.

It had all started after she had obtained her spear.

The day she came back with it, Cujo had acted like a maniac. He had growled at her, prised the spear from her and herded her away from it, snarling and rumbling at her like she had done something wrong. Annoyed, Dawn had tried to reach her new weapon many times but Cujo had always blocked her and eventually herded her so far from it, she couldn't find her way back to it. After so many attempts to find it, Cujo had bitten her.

He had never bitten her before.

After the initial shock wore off, she had sat down and cried for hours. Cujo had tried to make up for by licking her in the face and whining softly. He never bit her again after that.

However, never one to be deterred by anything, Dawn had found her weapon again and Cujo grudgingly let her keep it. However, after that, he wouldn't let her go on any more hunts by herself. The hellhound shadowed everywhere she went and kept an eye out for something. He even moved them from their cozy watering hole, across the golden plains, and into the balmy jungle. It was frustrating and not just a tad bit suffocating to someone like Dawn who was used to exercising her freedom on a daily basis. While at first, the rainforest had garnered enough attention to sate her adventurous spirit, come present day, she was now was feeling both homesick and fed up with the challenges her human body couldn't overcome.

Eventually, she figured out who to blame for it all.

Whatever-It-Was had been around when spear had appeared, it had also been around during all those moments when Cujo became grumpy and overly protective and now it had followed them to the sprawling green jungle and Cujo was not happy about it. The hellhound was snappish, rough and always on high alert as if Whatever-It-Was was encroaching on his territory and making itself a threat. However, unlike the unruly saber-tooth tigers that Cujo only had to bellow at to scare off, the hellhound didn't seem to be able to handle this new competitor. While neither of them ever saw Whatever-It-Was, it was definitely around. Dawn would feel it at the edge of her senses, around somewhere, watching as always but seemingly never doing anything else. She and Cujo even found the remains of its infrequent hunts which erected a burning hatred in her usually placid guardian. Cujo hated Whatever-It-Was and Dawn wanted to find out why.

Whatever-It-Was was a mystery that she was going to solve, an enigma she was going to uncover so Cujo could bite its throat out and they could move back to the savannah. The rainforest was fun and all but it was time to go home... at least Dawn's humble opinion.

So she tried calling to it.

She mimicked the bay of a wounded antelope as she hid in the dense undergrowth. She then watched and waited for a sign. If Whatever-It-Was was a predator like Cujo, it would come to investigate the noise. She didn't think it was a plant-eater, Cujo was far too stoic to be flustered by some errant buffalo or lizard-beast.

Minutes skipped on by and nothing happened. The only rustles she heard were from birds and small reptiles that slithered across the ground. She heard the distant bird calls and croaking but no deep grunts or growls that a predator would make, at least the one's she knew of. Irritated, she called again, another long and warbling bay, trying to sound as weak and pathetic as possible as to better tempt Whatever-It-Was.

Nothing.

More time slipped by and she was beginning to think Cujo would show up before Whatever-It-Was did.

Eventually, something moved at the very edge of her peripheral vision.

Freezing, only her eyes flickered as they strained to catch any sight of the source. Only swaying leaves and vines caught her attention and she growled, frustrated already.

A deep baritone growl echoed her from above.

Dawn's head snapped up so fast she gave herself whiplash. Through the dizzyness, her eyes darted back and forth, searching for Whatever-It-Was. For a few seconds, her adrenaline lingered, hoping she would spot something but she never did. She fruitlessly searched and searched but nothing as prominent as this Whatever-It-Was showed up.

But she had heard it, right?

Right?

Confused, she was just about to try mimicry again when a hellhound barged into view, snarling and frothing at the mouth.

Startled, Dawn let out a frightened shriek and accidentally attracted the beast's attention. Scrambling away, she barely made it three feet before Cujo was upon her, knocking the wind out of her and pinning her flat to the ground. She wheezed underneath the giant hellhound for a few minutes, gasping and gurgling, dazed and upset.

Tears began to fall and she wailed, loud and stark against the sudden silence of the jungle.

Cujo eased off her but kept one paw on her chest to keep her still. She then felt anxious and reassuring licks from a large wet and warm tongue as Cujo lapped at her face, trying to tell her that everything was okay because he was here now. Next, her torn hands were lavished with careful attention and as much gentleness as a massive beast like Cujo could manage. Eventually, her cries tapered off into whimpers and she sniffed weakly, clutching at the tip of her spear.

Mission failed.

Again.

Deciding to take her bath somewhere without Whatever-It-Was around to witness it, Cujo nudged her up and onto his back.

On the ride back home, Dawn fell asleep listening to the lullaby of the rainforest.