Like many things. Yes. Many things, all thrown together into a melting pot, making her into a monster that she was. Confused, always in pain, struggling - she couldn’t think, half the time. Blood in her nose, claws digging into the ground. She shook herself, pinfeathers rising along her back as she considered what the Rex had told her. She smelt like family, only different. But enough that she wanted to try, at least, until the bloodlust took over again…
It took her a moment to parse the other’s movements and barks, but she thought about it. Vague memories. “Once-sister,” she barked back, “Small-scared-weak. Dead-blood-meat.” she shook herself, vaguely remembering playfighting, remembering pain, remembering the weak bones under her mouth and the urge to bite, to feel texture, and then she was alone. Always alone.
“Just-me-now. Just-me-alone.” she shook herself, snorting. “No-family, no-pack.”
Rexie supposed it should make her feel fearful, threatened that this creature had killed her sister and now wanted the Tyrannosaurus to be her family instead. But it wasn’t, all that much anyway. In fact, it wasn’t unheard of for young T-Rexes to accidentally kill their siblings because they sometimes could forget their own strength. Although it didn’t seem like the Indominus killing her sister was entirely an accident.
"I once had daughter,“ Rexie explained. “Infant. I cared for her. Then they took her. Don’t know where she is.” The daughter they’d given Rexie had, in fact, been taken to a different island, Isla Sorna, for breeding. But Rexie had no way of knowing that.
“Not alone anymore,” Rexie pointed out with a snort. “Neither of us are alone.” And neither of them were alone anymore, because they had each other now.