[There is a lot of confusion. Sure, velociraptors might be one of the smartest dinosaurs around, but plop one in a completely new situation, and things are going to take a while to get figured out.
All she can hear is a people. A young people making sad noises. Why is young people sad? Scared? Where is scaredsad young people?
Charlie snorts herself awake, falling with an undignified squawk out of the bed someone decided to put a fucking velociraptor on. Hey, it's a soft nest, but nests are also usually on the ground, assholes. She gets to her feet and strikes a defensive pose, but...there's nothing here. Not that she can initially sense. And the crying child sound has apparently stopped. She sniffs the air, taking account. There's food! Food food food, under the bed, she snorts again and cranes her neck to fit her head under there and draaaag out a bloody box of raw meat. Which she happily snacks on. For a few bites.
The rest she should save. Some of it should be for Blue. Where is Blue? Where is pack? Nothing is familiar, and she doesn't like it. Charlie taps her claws in agitation before poking around the soft nest she fell from. There's a sketchbook, not that she knows what that is, filled with scribbles, not that she knows what those are, of little cartoons. They would be cute if she had the capacity to understand what she's looking at. As it is, she smears a little blood on the pages that are open when she nudges it, and when it doesn't do anything interesting, she moves on, a slow circle around the room.
Where is young people who made sad noises? It alarms her that she doesn't hear it anymore, and the door--she recognizes doors--gives her pause. These are not the original raptors, folks; they never had much chance to learn how to door. Still, give a raptor enough time, and one should be able to work it out. Or she could just push on it with her head and ram into it a couple of times, making cawing help sounds before, after several minutes of nuzzling around it, her snout pushes down on the handle and--it moved! The door! Door moved door open!
And the hallways is a lot of the same. Cold. Metal. Unfamiliar. Well shit.
But she smells other blood. Not the blood of food in her room, which she...is not wholly comfortable leaving there, but what else can she do, but different blood. She takes a few long strides, then lowers her head further to really speed up, tracking it down. She's zeroing in. Only slows as she approaches, and great, there's blood on this wall? But what is it. She definitely doesn't know letters or alphabet or written words.
So, if strange creature sounds from one room didn't get you, or a speeding raptor down the hall in a search doesn't, then you might find her by the front doors, licking curiously at the lettering.
Or outside, if someone opens it for her/she figures out how to front door! Then she'll be making a jog around the perimeter, sniffing at the air, stretching her legs, and being really confused about all the people who are allowed in her pen. (Obviously it's her pen, why else would she be here?) Where is pack?]
charlie the fucking dinosaur
All she can hear is a people. A young people making sad noises. Why is young people sad? Scared? Where is scaredsad young people?
Charlie snorts herself awake, falling with an undignified squawk out of the bed someone decided to put a fucking velociraptor on. Hey, it's a soft nest, but nests are also usually on the ground, assholes. She gets to her feet and strikes a defensive pose, but...there's nothing here. Not that she can initially sense. And the crying child sound has apparently stopped. She sniffs the air, taking account. There's food! Food food food, under the bed, she snorts again and cranes her neck to fit her head under there and draaaag out a bloody box of raw meat. Which she happily snacks on. For a few bites.
The rest she should save. Some of it should be for Blue. Where is Blue? Where is pack? Nothing is familiar, and she doesn't like it. Charlie taps her claws in agitation before poking around the soft nest she fell from. There's a sketchbook, not that she knows what that is, filled with scribbles, not that she knows what those are, of little cartoons. They would be cute if she had the capacity to understand what she's looking at. As it is, she smears a little blood on the pages that are open when she nudges it, and when it doesn't do anything interesting, she moves on, a slow circle around the room.
Where is young people who made sad noises? It alarms her that she doesn't hear it anymore, and the door--she recognizes doors--gives her pause. These are not the original raptors, folks; they never had much chance to learn how to door. Still, give a raptor enough time, and one should be able to work it out. Or she could just push on it with her head and ram into it a couple of times, making cawing help sounds before, after several minutes of nuzzling around it, her snout pushes down on the handle and--it moved! The door! Door moved door open!
And the hallways is a lot of the same. Cold. Metal. Unfamiliar. Well shit.
But she smells other blood. Not the blood of food in her room, which she...is not wholly comfortable leaving there, but what else can she do, but different blood. She takes a few long strides, then lowers her head further to really speed up, tracking it down. She's zeroing in. Only slows as she approaches, and great, there's blood on this wall? But what is it. She definitely doesn't know letters or alphabet or written words.
So, if strange creature sounds from one room didn't get you, or a speeding raptor down the hall in a search doesn't, then you might find her by the front doors, licking curiously at the lettering.
Or outside, if someone opens it for her/she figures out how to front door! Then she'll be making a jog around the perimeter, sniffing at the air, stretching her legs, and being really confused about all the people who are allowed in her pen. (Obviously it's her pen, why else would she be here?) Where is pack?]