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Sorry for the delay!

Structurally, why are you doing what you’re doing? These are separate scenes, because they’re separated by time and/or space, but you don’t often see chapters this short in published stories, except in children’s chapter books. One of the primary functions of a chapter is the opportunity for emphasis–the first and final lines of each chapter are necessarily emphasized in a reader’s mind. It’s as though the narrative “camera” hangs on them for a moment, like in the moments right before and right after a commercial break in a TV show.

So like @cassie-hartfinh said, you want these chapters to be scenes within the same chapter, separated from each other by something like ‘#’ or ‘***’ with empty lines before and afterward.

In addition, you should consider thinking of your scene composition as “action and reaction.” K.M. Weiland and others call this format “scene and sequel,” but I hate this because it’s super confusing to use a common industry term like “scene” and make it mean something more specific than what most people mean.

In scene/sequel or action/reaction or whatever you call it, you have an “action” scene in which something important changes, and then you have a “reaction” scene in which at least one of the characters reacts to the change in the status quo. For example, in your Chapter Four, you have what amounts to both action and reaction in a single scene. In my opinion, this makes it feel rushed.

Ideally, you’d spend an entire scene (your action) with the raptors attacking and being fended off. The scene would end with Hazel appearing, identified, and glaring at Kiel.

You’d then spend a following scene taking place in a slightly different time or place (inside vs outside the cave, an hour later when medicine had been boiled, etc.) as your reaction scene to show Hazel tending to Kiel and discussing with him the stuff he did that was stupid =P

Aside from splitting Chapter Four and expanding it, I think that there isn’t anything important (no drama or new discovery or interesting choice) happening in Chapter Three, and it should probably be turned into a brief summary.

But I think you’re aware of all that stuff, so I’ll go on to the question you actually asked.

Cassie talked about emotions and thoughts, which I agree are missing from the scene, but in addition I think we’re missing sensory information in general, as well as stage-setting.

Let’s look at the first paragraph of Chapter Four:

“Kiel awoke to the disgruntled grunts of Percy. He sat up and stretched. Percy’s grunts continued from the front of the cave. Rising, Kiel looked out, then grabbed his axe from where it lay. Percy swung his tail at one of the three Velociraptors attempting to make their way inside. Kiel, wielding his axe, took on the other two, and tried to puzzle out why they seemed so intent on driving them away from the cave, then realized they must have lived here, went hunting and left the cave for a while, the other Velociraptor that Kiel had killed earlier had gotten back early, and now the others that lived there weren’t happy about Kiel and Percy taking shelter in their cave.”

Kiel awoke to the disgruntled grunts of Percy. You spend thirteen syllables in the first sentence simply telling us Kiel awoke because Percy was making some “disgruntled” noises.

He sat up and stretched. Percy’s grunts continued from the front of the cave. You then spend eighteen more syllables on additional confirmation that Kiel was asleep and that Percy is grunting. You tell us roughly where, but not much else. The closer a word or clause or sentence comes to the beginning of a new scene or especially a new chapter, the more impact it has on the reader. The further you go from the beginning of that chapter, the less “bonus” impact you get. If we instead started this chapter with the raptors right here, not twenty feet away! then we would have nearly the same practical effect on the outcome of the story, but with a ton more innate tension that is then multiplied by its proximity to the beginning of the chapter.

Rising, Kiel looked out, then grabbed his axe from where it lay. This is the inciting incident of your scene, in which the protagonist is engaged by the “plot.” However, the effect is shown before the cause. As far as the reader is concerned, Kiel grabbed his axe for no reason, because no reason has been yet presented.

Percy swung his tail at one of the three Velociraptors attempting to make their way inside. We have the same issue here. We have effect (warding off intruders) before cause (intruders here to eat our livers and hearts!). In addition, the “camerawork” is confusing. The last thing we focused on was Kiel getting ready to perform acts of physical violence, and then suddenly it’s Percy doing a thing, and I have no idea where he is. For all I know, Percy is in the next room altogether. Spend a brief sentence outlining the appearance of the stage, as it were. Tell me how big the raptors are, how the saliva frothing at their teeth is already flecked red, how Percy’s ears are down like a terrified dog’s.

Kiel, wielding his axe, took on the other two, and tried to puzzle out … This is where it fully breaks down. You’ve promised us a scene filled with action, a home invasion story involving a trio of raptors, a dude with an axe, and what I assume is his pet dino! Instead, you set the scene and then start giving us info that should be in the reaction to this scene, later on.

When adrenaline’s driving you, there’s no room for critical thought in your head, and you’re reduced to instinct. That’s a huge benefit of training of all different kinds, not that you’ll know what to do in a situation but that when it comes down to crunch time and you can’t think straight, you’ll be able to do what needs to be done on instinct alone. When you just woke up, you’re groggy. When someone’s in your home in the middle of the night, you’re high-strung and on edge. When the creatures that hurt you before are back for more, and they’re bloodthirsty monsters with razor claws and teeth, you’re terrified. You have no time for rationalizing why they’re here, and only time for maybe a little crying while you swing wildly at anything that moves.

If Kiel still needs to be an action hero dude, make the adrenaline excite him, but make sure it’s present. His hands should be shaking and his spit should be coppery and thick. Rather than the flip simply making his head throb, something lurchingly bad should happen right here. If the blood rush stabs pain into his head, make what was supposed to be a flip end up crashing him in a skid across the floor that twists his ankle. Maybe the raptors are used to snatching jumping or flying prey and they easily drag him down with teeth through the leg. Maybe he does something as stupid as trip over the axe because he’s still half-asleep, and he wonders as the raptors loom closer whether this is all just a fever dream from his head wound.

Aside from that, this seems like a fun story with fun characters. Good luck with your writing. One last question that might help since I still feel like I completely missed the point of your original question, as I usually do: What you do mean by not having “close to enough” stuff in a chapter? What does a chapter with “enough” look like, and why doesn’t yours look like it?