Bearskin, Part Six
Bearskin, Part One
Bearskin, Part Two
Bearskin, Part Three
Bearskin, Part Four
Bearskin, Part Five
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For one so weak, so little, the bear possessed an astounding level of tenacity.
While it had whined more than usual when Kocoum left, he expected it to stay in its usual spot by the porch. However, the bear had previously exceeded his expectations and now trailed close behind him, making occasional grunts or whuffling noises whenever he looked at it. Kocoum decided that that the best he could do was to ignore its behavior for now; it would at least make it easier when he takes the bear to the warden later. Earlier, he'd entertained the thought of staying a few extra days to keep an eye on the animal, to make sure that it could gain weight, and wasn't just sickly. But now with Thomas missing, the bear was the least of his worries.
Kocoum knew he should have said something when Thomas wanted to go camping with John. While he was certain that the blond could carry his own in the wilderness, Thomas belonged in the safety of the suburbs, protected by brick and gates and walls, his only “adventures” in he books he loved so much. When he tried explaining this to the redhead, his words died in his throat when Thomas frowned and mumbled something about helping John pack. Kocoum hadn’t tried speaking to Thomas again after that. At least it hadn’t snowed since the night Thomas disappeared, Kocoum thought. Even with his tracking skills, the snow fall would wipe out any chance of finding the redhead. And if he didn’t find him alive now, someone would find his remains in the spring.
Kocoum scanned the area. Nothing but bare trees, snow, and the faint marks of deer trackings. Something inside Kocoum niggled at his brain, forcing the wound wider and wider until it festered into full-blown worry. What if an animal had gotten Thomas? Thomas didn’t seem very interested when Kocoum drilled him on the various fauna in the mountains before he left with John; he made the lame excuse of checking on the supplies to slip away from him. If he’d paid attention, then he would still be at John’s, safe and sound and still alive.
But all of Kocoum’s tests and preparations wouldn’t protect Thomas from his sense of pride.
The bear whined behind him, pulling Kocoum out of his thoughts. Kocoum turned around and the bear whined again, this time backed by a throaty grumble as it walked in a circle and tossing its head towards the direction leading back to the cabin. This was the third time the bear urged him to head back. Kocoum shooed the bear away and continued to press on, only to nearly trip over the bear when it ran out in front of him. The bear concentrated all of its weight against Kocoum’s leg, trying to push him back. Sighing, Kocoum hoisted the bear off the ground and set it aside, grimacing when he could feel the outlines of ribs underneath its fur. At least this runt ate when he put food in front of it. Thomas would always make some asinine excuse to avoid eating the plates of food Kocoum would leave for him in the fridge whenever he came over to visit. How did he expect to put meat on his bones if he never ate? But, like Thomas, Kocoum had no idea where the cub put all of that food he gave it.
Kocoum moved in front of the cub and went for his gun at the sound of a low gravely rumble to his left. How such a massive, agitated bear got the drop on him he would figure out later. Kocoum steeled himself. He’d never seen a black bear as large as this. She growled as she circled around Kocoum, baring large, glistening fangs, her red eyes fixed solely on the cub behind him. Red?
For one moment, Kocoum considered stepping aside. It wasn’t natural for him to keep the mother away from her child; his first assumption having been proven correct. At least now he knew that the cub would be protected, even if said protection blustered before him.
Except that the cub growled at the bear.
Inching out from behind him, the cub growled again, spreading its forepaws far apart and bristling its fur, in some awkward attempt to look as threatening as possible. While Kocoum appreciated the gesture, he was certain that he could hold his own against the animal. The bear seemed to agree, snorting as it lumbered towards them. The cub shifted from foot to foot, making sounds between a growl and a whine as it looked to Kocoum for support. Kocoum fired off a warning shot, and the bear dropped to the ground. The woodsman held his breath, keeping his sights trained on the bear lest it decided to charge. Instead, the sow rose with a whine, and cast a look at the cub before running off in the opposite direction.
Kocoum didn’t lower his gun until the bear was well out of range. Relieved, he knelt to the ground and the cub immediately trundled to his side, making gruff noises and looking at him expectantly. “Just what kind of bear are you?” Kocoum wondered aloud as his hand strayed to the bear’s head. Glowering, the cub whuffled in response before grabbing hold of Kocoum’s sleeve in its mouth and pulling him towards the direction of the cabin. Kocoum pulled back with little effort, rising from the ground and setting himself back to rights. Whatever the cub wanted, it would have to wait. The light would be good for another four hours. Hopefully he would find Thomas before then.
Kocoum pressed on, with the cub close behind him.
The sun had just begun to dip into the horizon when Kocoum heard a familiar voice cry out in the distance. The voice sounded stressed, muffled even against the snow. At first, the woodsman remained still, unsure if the stress and weather finally began to chip away at his sanity. But when the voice called out again, he broke out into a run, following the sound until he found its source. Kocoum's breath caught in his throat. Nestled away underneath a fallen tree and undergrowth, lay a bleeding, frantic, and very much alive Thomas.
Bearskin, Part Two
Bearskin, Part Three
Bearskin, Part Four
Bearskin, Part Five
--------------------------
For one so weak, so little, the bear possessed an astounding level of tenacity.
While it had whined more than usual when Kocoum left, he expected it to stay in its usual spot by the porch. However, the bear had previously exceeded his expectations and now trailed close behind him, making occasional grunts or whuffling noises whenever he looked at it. Kocoum decided that that the best he could do was to ignore its behavior for now; it would at least make it easier when he takes the bear to the warden later. Earlier, he'd entertained the thought of staying a few extra days to keep an eye on the animal, to make sure that it could gain weight, and wasn't just sickly. But now with Thomas missing, the bear was the least of his worries.
Kocoum knew he should have said something when Thomas wanted to go camping with John. While he was certain that the blond could carry his own in the wilderness, Thomas belonged in the safety of the suburbs, protected by brick and gates and walls, his only “adventures” in he books he loved so much. When he tried explaining this to the redhead, his words died in his throat when Thomas frowned and mumbled something about helping John pack. Kocoum hadn’t tried speaking to Thomas again after that. At least it hadn’t snowed since the night Thomas disappeared, Kocoum thought. Even with his tracking skills, the snow fall would wipe out any chance of finding the redhead. And if he didn’t find him alive now, someone would find his remains in the spring.
Kocoum scanned the area. Nothing but bare trees, snow, and the faint marks of deer trackings. Something inside Kocoum niggled at his brain, forcing the wound wider and wider until it festered into full-blown worry. What if an animal had gotten Thomas? Thomas didn’t seem very interested when Kocoum drilled him on the various fauna in the mountains before he left with John; he made the lame excuse of checking on the supplies to slip away from him. If he’d paid attention, then he would still be at John’s, safe and sound and still alive.
But all of Kocoum’s tests and preparations wouldn’t protect Thomas from his sense of pride.
The bear whined behind him, pulling Kocoum out of his thoughts. Kocoum turned around and the bear whined again, this time backed by a throaty grumble as it walked in a circle and tossing its head towards the direction leading back to the cabin. This was the third time the bear urged him to head back. Kocoum shooed the bear away and continued to press on, only to nearly trip over the bear when it ran out in front of him. The bear concentrated all of its weight against Kocoum’s leg, trying to push him back. Sighing, Kocoum hoisted the bear off the ground and set it aside, grimacing when he could feel the outlines of ribs underneath its fur. At least this runt ate when he put food in front of it. Thomas would always make some asinine excuse to avoid eating the plates of food Kocoum would leave for him in the fridge whenever he came over to visit. How did he expect to put meat on his bones if he never ate? But, like Thomas, Kocoum had no idea where the cub put all of that food he gave it.
Kocoum moved in front of the cub and went for his gun at the sound of a low gravely rumble to his left. How such a massive, agitated bear got the drop on him he would figure out later. Kocoum steeled himself. He’d never seen a black bear as large as this. She growled as she circled around Kocoum, baring large, glistening fangs, her red eyes fixed solely on the cub behind him. Red?
For one moment, Kocoum considered stepping aside. It wasn’t natural for him to keep the mother away from her child; his first assumption having been proven correct. At least now he knew that the cub would be protected, even if said protection blustered before him.
Except that the cub growled at the bear.
Inching out from behind him, the cub growled again, spreading its forepaws far apart and bristling its fur, in some awkward attempt to look as threatening as possible. While Kocoum appreciated the gesture, he was certain that he could hold his own against the animal. The bear seemed to agree, snorting as it lumbered towards them. The cub shifted from foot to foot, making sounds between a growl and a whine as it looked to Kocoum for support. Kocoum fired off a warning shot, and the bear dropped to the ground. The woodsman held his breath, keeping his sights trained on the bear lest it decided to charge. Instead, the sow rose with a whine, and cast a look at the cub before running off in the opposite direction.
Kocoum didn’t lower his gun until the bear was well out of range. Relieved, he knelt to the ground and the cub immediately trundled to his side, making gruff noises and looking at him expectantly. “Just what kind of bear are you?” Kocoum wondered aloud as his hand strayed to the bear’s head. Glowering, the cub whuffled in response before grabbing hold of Kocoum’s sleeve in its mouth and pulling him towards the direction of the cabin. Kocoum pulled back with little effort, rising from the ground and setting himself back to rights. Whatever the cub wanted, it would have to wait. The light would be good for another four hours. Hopefully he would find Thomas before then.
Kocoum pressed on, with the cub close behind him.
The sun had just begun to dip into the horizon when Kocoum heard a familiar voice cry out in the distance. The voice sounded stressed, muffled even against the snow. At first, the woodsman remained still, unsure if the stress and weather finally began to chip away at his sanity. But when the voice called out again, he broke out into a run, following the sound until he found its source. Kocoum's breath caught in his throat. Nestled away underneath a fallen tree and undergrowth, lay a bleeding, frantic, and very much alive Thomas.