Claire's world has narrowed down to independent variables. The way the wind blows. The strength of the boar's smell. The willingness of the raptors to hunt, and not turn on her and shred her like wet paper. Things she can't control. She fucking hates field tests. (Or, role swap!AU. Claire trains raptors, Owen runs a theme park, and no one can decide if the plural of Indominus is indomini or indominuses.)

The hydrophones have been picking up nonsense for the past three days and Zhenya has had it up to here, honestly.