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*Owen's P.O.V*
For as fenced in and controlled as this entire island environment is, our journey through the woods seemed never-ending. I couldn't help but wonder just how three kids could seem to navigate their way through the shaded trees without being spotted by the hybrid dinosaur. I had to shake the thought of them crossing paths with the Indominus out of my head, thinking that way wasn't getting us any closer to finding them– or helping us find our way out of here. Claire was stuck inside her head too, I could easily tell. For one, she wasn't nagging as much as she was earlier– before we knew that Hailey and her nephews were okay. And secondly, you could feel the fear that plagued her mind practically radiate off of her body. I didn't know what to say– or if I should even say anything at all.
I wasn't one to let down my walls, I've always been a pretty private person. I didn't like the feeling of losing someone I cared so much about, or the idea of letting strangers know just how vulnerable I can be. That was something they taught you in bootcamp– never let your vulnerability show, it can only come back and bite you in the ass later on. And I think that was an underlying fear I had the moment my outburst about Elizabeth happened. To Claire, I was just some macho, brooding, coldhearted, out of the Navy guy who had a strong taste for tequila and an unfortunate fashion-sense. I don't know if she ever thought it was possible that I could have a heart– and I don't know if that changes anything between us or what. What I can say is that it felt really nice talking about what happened to Elizabeth. Hell, Barry's one of my best friends and I couldn't even manage to muster up a few measly words when I returned back to the island after her funeral. But with Claire, it was different. I don't know what it was about her that made it seem like it was okay for me to be able to open up around her– but there was something there. Even if my opening up to her wasn't all that intentional.
"It helps you know..." Claire said, clearing her throat. "talking about it– her. When my dad died a few years back, my sister and mom were always open about it and talked about it all the time. I couldn't, because it hurt...just to even think about him. But once I did, it was like I could feel some weight being lifted. It might sound cliche, but I swear...talking helps."
I looked at her for only a few seconds before putting my focus back on the scenery in front of us. We couldn't afford to waste anymore time getting lost in these woods. God knows what would happen. But her advice bounced off the walls of my brain, sticking every few seconds– maybe she was right. Maybe it would help. My outburst sure did for the few seconds it lasted for. I took a deep breath and sighed. "She was my older sister. Only by three years, but she never let me live it down. She was my best friend growing up, we rarely ever fought– which was a surprise to our parents."
"Karen and I fought like it was our jobs, I think we drove our parents crazy." She laughed softly, tucking a piece of her hair behind her ear.
