Claire's eyes twitched as she stirred from her restless sleep. The first thing she saw was the rough stone ceiling above her, then the faint glow of firelight, and the warmth of two small creatures curled nearby. For a fleeting moment, she wished it was all just a bad dream—that she would wake up in her own bed, safe, with no monsters, no wilderness, no fear.
But reality was merciless. She was stranded on an island teeming with carnivorous dinosaurs, and no amount of wishing would change that.
Her throat burned with dryness, every swallow painful, and her muscles ached from both exhaustion and the absence of proper rest. Hunger gnawed at her, but thirst was worse, leaving her lips cracked and her body heavy. She needed food and, more urgently, water.
Yet she had no idea where to start. Survival wasn't something she was taught, at least not beyond vague classroom lessons. One memory resurfaced though—her teacher once said that boiling water was the safest way to make it drinkable when no clean source was available.
It was a thin thread of knowledge, but it was all she had.
Claire reminded herself that she also needed to look for clear, running water—something far safer than still ponds or swamps. With effort, she rose from her makeshift bed, pausing to glance at Speckles and Ace nestled together. A faint smile touched her lips. Despite everything, the little creatures looked almost… cute.
Her moment of quiet was interrupted when she noticed movement. Claire turned—and froze.
Matias was approaching, carefully carrying a blanket in his jaws. He set it down in front of her, and as the fabric unfurled, Claire's eyes widened in shock. Inside were pots, metal cups, and other supplies for survival, all surprisingly clean and intact. Even a few cans of preserved food gleamed in the firelight.
She gasped, her heart leaping.
"H-How… how did you even get these?" Claire stammered, staring at the pile of supplies in disbelief. It didn't make sense. A dragon his size couldn't possibly squeeze into an abandoned facility, let alone carry out such carefully chosen items. And yet, here they were—pots, cups, food, and all of them looking almost spotless.
Matias only blinked at her confusion. He had taken the time to rinse everything in a nearby river, using his telekinesis to wash away the dust and grime. Still, he tilted his head slightly, unable to give her the explanation she sought.
Claire sighed, realizing the futility of her own question. "Ah, right… you can't talk. Sorry." She gave him a small smile nonetheless. "Still… thank you. Really."
Gathering the items, she walked toward the river, filling one of the pots with fresh water before setting it over the campfire. Settling down, Claire kept her eyes on the flames, waiting patiently for the water to boil—each crackle of fire bringing her one step closer to something as simple, yet precious, as a safe drink.
In the meantime, Claire's gaze drifted toward Matias, who was resting quietly. Speckles and Ace were still curled up, lost in peaceful sleep, their tiny chests rising and falling. For a moment, she simply watched them all, marveling at how surreal her life had become.
"Hmmm… hey," she said softly, almost to herself, before daring to speak louder, "I'm curious… are you a boy or a girl?"
Matias cracked open one eye at her voice, letting out a soft huff as if puzzled by such a strange question. Claire's cheeks flushed immediately, realizing how ridiculous it sounded.
"Ah! S-sorry… let me try again. Nod if you're a boy, shake your head if you're a girl. Do you understand?" she asked carefully.
After a moment's pause, Matias gave her a deliberate nod.
Claire tilted her head, uncertain. "Wait… are you nodding because you understand, or because you're saying you're a boy?"
He stared at her in silence, then gave another firm nod.
"You're… a boy?" she whispered, as if confirming something monumental. He nodded once more.
She laughed softly, a nervous little sound, but her smile lingered. "Oh… then you'll need a name. I can't just keep calling you 'Mr. Dragon,' right?"
Matias rumbled low in his chest, a sound that carried both amusement and agreement. He'd tell her his real name one day, but for now he simply accepted her offer.
Claire hesitated, then reached out with trembling fingers, brushing her hand against the smooth, armored scales along his side. They shimmered faintly in the firelight, black like polished obsidian but harder, tougher—alive. The sensation made her heart quicken. She had been terrified of him at first, yet now… there was something oddly comforting in his presence. Protective, even.
"Onyx," she whispered, her voice tender, as if naming something sacred. "How about Onyx?"
Matias rumbled again, this time with a sound of approval, and Claire's lips curved into a genuine smile.
"You… you like it? Okay then. Onyx it is." She glanced toward the two hatchlings, her heart softening further as she watched them twitch in their sleep. "And as for you two… hmm. How about Jade… and Sky?"
She gently tapped Speckles' snout. "You'll be Jade." Then, to Ace, "And you'll be Sky." Simple names, but warm, and more importantly—hers.
Claire leaned back, folding her arms around herself, her eyes lingering on Matias.
'I'm starting to feel calmer than before. It is all thanks to him. I don't know what would happen if he didn't save me yesterday.'
Her smile softened and hope seemed flickered in her chest.
Some time later, Claire decided she should look for food while waiting for the water to cool. She turned toward Matias, who was resting but alert, his dark scales catching faint glimmers of light.
"Can you help me catch fish? You do know what a fish is, right?" she asked, tilting her head as if speaking to a child.
Matias lifted his head, eyes narrowing as if mildly offended, then gave a short nod before rising to his full height. His tail flicked as he gestured for her to follow.
Claire blinked, hesitating for a moment before moving after him. She grabbed the pot that Matias brought to store the fish.
'He really does understand me… but how?' she wondered.
"Thanks. I still don't know how you're able to understand English. Or is it just… a dragon thing? Do dragons naturally understand humans?"
Her voice carried genuine curiosity, but all she got in return was a low rumble in his throat—neither hostile nor dismissive, just a sound.
"Right. You can't speak. Guess it doesn't matter… as long as you don't eat me. Please don't eat me," she muttered, half-joking, though her nervous laugh betrayed a sliver of unease.
Matias snorted, the puff of air ruffling her hair. His body shook slightly, almost like a chuckle, and Claire froze before pouting at him. "Hey… did you just laugh at me?"
Instead of answering, Matias swung his head away, pretending to study the path ahead. His deliberate silence was almost teasing.
Claire groaned, throwing up her hands. "Great. Now even a dragon is making fun of me."
Still, despite her words, she found herself smiling as she trailed behind him.
The two finally reached the riverbank, its clear waters glimmering as fish darted beneath the surface.
There were only a few dinosaurs lingering near the riverbank, mostly herbivores. They grazed lazily, barely sparing Matias a glance. As long as he wasn't attacking, they didn't seem to mind his presence.
Claire, on the other hand, could hardly tear her eyes away. She saw dinosaurs. And not the violent carnivorous kind she had stumbled into before. These ones were calm, almost serene, like oversized cattle in a prehistoric pasture.
Her awe was cut short when she noticed Matias crouch low by the water. With surprising patience for a creature his size, he dipped one massive clawed hand into the current, waiting… waiting—then, with a sharp motion, scooped upward. Water sprayed everywhere, and when his palm lifted, a wriggling cluster of fish flopped helplessly in it.
Claire's jaw dropped.
"You—you actually caught some! With your bare hand!" She hurried over to peer at his palm.
"That's… that's like five? No—seven?!"
Matias rumbled smugly, lowering his catch toward her. She quickly grabbed the cooking pot and pointed at it.
"Alright, mighty fisher-dragon. Deposit them in here, please."
He tilted his head at her tone but obliged, letting the fish slide into the pot with a wet plop. Claire grinned.
"That's quite a haul. Thanks, Onyx. You make this look way too easy."
She glanced at the river, determination flashing in her eyes. "Hmph. I bet I can catch one too!"
Rolling up her sleeves, Claire knelt by the edge and plunged both hands into the cold water. She swiped, splashed, lunged—only to come up empty-handed.
"Argh! They're too fast!"
Matias snorted, a puff of air bursting from his nostrils. His body shook faintly, the way it did when he found something amusing.
Claire whipped her head around, cheeks puffed.
"Don't you dare laugh at me!" She tried again, managing to trap a silver flash between her palms—only for it to slip free and splash water right into her face.
Matias let out a deep rumble that unmistakably sounded like laughter. Claire wiped her face, glaring at him.
"Oh, so it's funny, huh? Fine. You think you're such a pro, let's see you do it again."
He obliged immediately, plunging his clawed hand back into the river. With one swift motion, another wriggling bundle of fish appeared. He flicked his head toward her as if bragging, eyes glinting.
Claire groaned dramatically.
"Ugh, I hate this. You Show-off." But the corners of her mouth betrayed her smile.
For the next few minutes, Claire splashed around stubbornly, while Matias alternated between fishing effortlessly and snorting at her floundering attempts. By the time she finally managed to fling a single tiny fish onto the shore, she jumped up and pointed triumphantly.
"Ha! Got one! Take that!"
Matias tilted his head down to look at the minuscule thing, then back at her, his glowing eyes narrowing with what could only be described as mocking amusement.
Claire planted her hands on her hips. "Don't you dare judge me! A win's a win!"
He let out another soft rumble, clearly unconvinced, but humored her nonetheless.
By the time they returned to camp, the pot was heavy with fish—most from Matias's work, and one lone, tiny catch that Claire insisted counted.