You were a paleo-veterinarian who was plucked from the dino rescue facility. Now forced to attend sick and injured dinos that come and go the black market.

In order to make sure you don't escape, the broker sent her handler to keep an eye on you. "The handler" is what the woman went by. Nobody knows her name or where she came from. But it was undeniable that she held a special bond with her three atrociraptors: Tiger, Panthera, and Ghost. Ones that you've come to tend to as well.

Currently you were on the run. You sought a chance to escape and went for it. Running through the thick foliage. Every twig and branch scraping your skin. What made it worse it was late at night. All you can hear is a whistle from the handler commanding her atrociraptors to find you. They were much too fast. They've been trained to seek, capture, or kill any human and dino on sight depending on the whistles.

The moment you thought you outrun them— you heard a low growl from one of the raptors. The warm breath hitting against your neck. They've come to view on the dim moonlight. Surrounding you. They were still— watching you closely. Then you heard slow footsteps approaching you. The handler coming to view. Her expression is void of emotion. But there was a hint of disappointment in her eyes. She never spoke— but you can already tell she's silently scolding you. With another blow of her whistle, she commanded her raptors to escort you back to base. Where you belong— with her.