A low rumble, deep within a vast chest, stirred with the first bright painting of dawn. A massive, shaggy form began to unfurl from a huddled slumber amidst the leaves and roots of a den. A burst of warm air erupted from nostrils the size of a child’s fist, and fought against the cool morning air. It was a time for waking, of silent purpose, as the bear rose to greet the new day. His life would seem enviable to most. A vast, earthy and green domain, teeming with life, was his. He moved with a weighty grace through the dew-covered undergrowth, chomping at plump berries, and enjoying the familiar comfort of damp scented earth. He was immense, a creature carved from the very power of nature. Yet, as he lumbered forward and paused. He noticed two birds; chirping splashes of red against the green canopy. They chirped at each other, their small bodies moving in unison. A quiet warmth filled the bear’s chest, with an echo of something he couldn’t quite understand. He watched them for a long moment, and a gentle longing settled in him, as soft as a morning mist. The warmth slowly flowed away, leaving behind a familiar emptiness, an aching hollowness that made his vast forest feel immense and empty. He moved on, placing each massive paw before the other, feeling heavier than it should, a subtle drag that bellied his formidable strength.
The day waned on, and the golden painter of mornings gave way to the deeper purples and oranges of twilight, as the bear moved deeper into the ancient trees. His senses, seasoned by wild living, were now alive to the world around him. He heard the rustle of unseen creatures in the undergrowth, the distant hoot of an owl preparing for its hunt, and the whispers of the wind through the tall trees. He padded silently over moss-covered stones and tangled roots, his massive head occasionally dipping to sniff at a promising scent or two. He was drawn, by an instinct he was unaware of, towards a denser part of the forest, where ancient trees stood like ever watchful guardians over the night. A sudden, frantic scurry of smaller paws, followed by a sharp, eager scent registered in his giant nose. A flash of red fur darted through the gloom, too quick for most to see. It was a lean, hungry shadow on the hunt. A fox. There was more. Mingling with the fox’s sharp aroma, was a faint, almost delicate scent on the cool air. A scent not of the forest, something out of place, like a single garden flower amidst the wild. The bear heard a tiny, panicked tremble, a distressed meow that seemed pitifully small against the vastness of the darkening forest.
The bear saw a frightened form, of black and white, against a large trees roots. Vulnerable. A determination set in his chest. He, a creature of the daunting forest, knew he had to do something, even though he thought himself to be cumbersome, unlikeable and rough. As if told by the forest itself, he raised himself on his hind legs, a colossal figure against the moonlit canopy, and let loose a guttural roar that tore from his throat. The fox, scared by the deep, primal assertion, sped off in a red blur to escape and protect itself from the ferocious bear. Then it was still.
After the fox had fled, the bear landed down on his heavy front paws with a weighty thud. He lumbered towards the tiny cat, hoping to not scare her. His shadow loomed over her delicate form. Though he felt uncertain, he moved slowly, nearer. He was a creature of brute strength, though he scarcely felt it anymore, not a creature of gentle care. In the stillness, he wondered how one should care for such a small thing. He lowered his enormous head, taking in her fear-filled scent, masking the sweet, clean aroma of her fur. With an unexpected, clumsy movement, he flopped down next to the old tree’s roots, creating an immovable shield around her. He would do what gave him comfort. Warmth and a peaceful place to sleep. It was a silent offer of safety, a protective barrier against the chill and lurking threats of the night. Seeing the cat’s weariness of what was happening, he reached out with his large paw and dragged her near him. At first stiff with uncertainty, the cat eventually eased into his large form and slowed her breathing as she slowly drifted off to sleep. The cat’s soft murmuring purrs filled the small nook of warmth. A new sound in his solitary world, and a profound warmth spread through him.
As dawn approached, the bear felt the rumblings of hunger reverberating in his belly, thankfully not stirring the cat. He knew that she would need sustenance. Despite the persistent, internal drag that made every moment an effort, a profound, bone-deep ache, his hunting instincts were still sharp. He slipped away silently, moving through the pre-dawn forest like a ghost, albeit shaggy and slightly matted. He moved to a familiar, clear, flowing stream. Its waters were cold and refreshing, as he waded to the centre of the stream. He was in his element. Planted on an outcropped rock, slick from the water, he waited. With focused precision, he splashed his powerful paw through the water, sending a fish flying through the air, and snatched it with his teeth. It was plump and juicy. Satisfied with his catch, he waded through the waters, back to the dry and grassy bank.
The bear returned to the nook, placed the freshly caught fish gently beside the sleeping cat, and returned into the shadows of the ancient trees. He watched her awaken, her tiny form stretching with contentment, her soft purrs sounding through the early morning air. It brought the bear joy, but he felt a bittersweet pang, a desire to stay and bask in the warmth of his feelings. Yet, he understood. He was a creature of the forest, the wilds, and she, a delicate thing of a garden. He was afraid that he would frighten her. The bear watched, with conflicting thoughts, until she noticed the fresh fish, still wet from the stream. He felt a profound sense of having done something worthwhile, a fleeting purpose, in his vast, green and earthy domain. The fresh scent of leaves and the clinging aroma of the cat lingered on his rough fur, a new, comforting memory in his vast, quiet world. Perhaps he wasn’t so alone. Perhaps the large guardian could stave off the loneliness.
Waylen Ashwood 