Impulsive boy. Ever impulsive. Always finding new ways to fuck off and get himself into things he shouldn't. Björn already has a penchant for trouble... was anyone surprised? Probably not. At the base of the mountain, he was inspecting one of the traps that had been set in the river. This was a small one, something about the small stream that fed into the sound. Björn hadn't been listening when it was explained, only deciding that he should be able to help himself to whatever was in the trap. He'd failed to see the bear, initially. It saw him near immediately, fixing the boy with a scowl and a stare. A great, dark paw reaching out to swipe at the pup. He yelped, but he didn't falter. A black bear, not the biggest bear it could have been, but... well, fuck. If it's black fight back. Right. Björn leapt back into action, snarling and snapping his teeth. Rawr! He could be big! He could be tough! Yeah! Fight back! BJÖRN Ragnarök awaits.

he’s doing something that he’ll quickly become known for, that will likely rankle and suffocate the more adventurous of his littermates: following. watching. hovering like a protective shadow. its a natural course of action to the boy, an obvious answer to an obvious question.

Björn goes off, so of course, he follows.

and as it turns out, he is right to do so. cold, icy fear freezes Styrmir’s veins as he spots the bear, terror choking his throat and making the mere act of breathing a near-impossibility. he’d known. somehow, deep in his bones, Stymir had predicted this. why else had he felt such dread when Björn had initially disappeared? why else had he felt compelled to follow him? he’d known something terrible would happen if he let his brother out of his sight, and the proof is right here in big ugly bear-form.

“brother! i’m coming!” the boy moves fast, diving under the bear’s belly and skidding to a halt in front of Björn. he attempts to shield his sibling from the bear with his body, snarling and gnashing his teeth in warning. no one touches his brother!

Well ah fuck.

Róta hadn't planned on having much to do with the kids until they were much more robust than just out of the den crushable hazards, but it was her fish trap, and her nephews now facing down a fucking bear... Her stomach gave uncomfortable flips as she couldn't help but feel she was going to fail them again, and so she called for backup, not caring who showed. It was just a black bear, but she certainly didn't have the height some of her pack mates did.

Squaring her shoulders and adding her own growls to the chorus, her asshole donkey charged forward braying with teeth exposed as fiercely as her own. If nothing, perhaps their racket would be enough to convince the bear it wanted to retreat to somewhere quieter. She couldn't be that lucky though, right?

"speech"