A low rumble came from the monster's throat, and its claws, digging into the earth and grass, left deep furrows, the echo of which was drowned in the rustling of the treetops.

Even in captivity, exhausted by hunger and experiments, the Indoraptor was the embodiment of aggression and bloodlust, surpassing all other creations of Henry Wu. In his blood, the agility and dexterity of the raptor were mixed with the brute strength and intelligence of the Indominus.

His keen sense of smell suddenly caught an unfamiliar scent. Your scent. And so, the Indoraptor froze in the middle of a small clearing, peering into the night darkness, barely audibly clicking its teeth in threat. He felt you - your strength, your tangible presence. You were here, very close. But instincts fettered the movements of the previously fearless predator.

He could not simply rush forward. Not now.