Bear of a Temper [Fighting Skill Prompt]

With Spring underway and the changes truly begun on her pack, the Spirit made her way out, solo, to see what she could find for prey, and perhaps make notes to bring back to Laisren. She’d chosen to leave her companions at home, a decision she would end up regretting.

She’d ventured north, following the coastline once she reached it, around until she came across a cove filled with soft sand. It was a lovely place, though even with Spring’s warmth seeping into the lands, the place still felt slightly chill.

That wasn’t what harnessed her attention, however. A great dark shape law slumped over the beach, half in and half out of the water, waves hushing up and down the sandy shoreline. It was clearly dead, with carrion birds swarming it.

The thing was massive. She’d never seen such a beast in her life, and she was held awestruck by its majesty. Surely it wasn’t a land creature. Circling it carefully, she observed the great flippers, the elongated body and what she thought might be the mouth, fallen open in death to reveal the strangest teeth she’d ever seen on a beast.

What she didn’t know was that the whale had been minding her own business, thinking he was safe in the cove. Alas, something had happened. An unexplainable surge of sea that sent him up onto the sand to die, beached like a helpless calf.

Eventually, his own great weight and tiring struggles had weakened him to the point that he could not escape the sand, especially as the water-level had fallen. He would never know what had happened. An offshore undersea earthquake, perhaps.

Now his carcass would feed the creatures of the land, or Aurielle’s entire pack for years if she could get all the meat packed home and preserved... She grinned to herself, thinking that this would definitely be a pack effort. With all the pack old enough to pitch in, she hoped it would be possible to cache the meat and supply.

She paused, though, head swiveling toward the north, a smile twitching onto her features. Perhaps it would be best not to hog all the bounty here on the beach.

The shimmering Spirit threw back her head and howled, long and loud for the pack of Fyri. It was an invitation, a call to food. It also caught the unwanted attention of a mother bear.

The mama had been hot on the scent of a carcass and lots of rich blubber, and her two cubs tumbled and scuffled along behind her, clinging to her rump. Mama bear was a bit cranky, having been woken up early by her cubs, and… okay, she snapped a bit at the howl, so close to her cubs and so close to the food she’d just come around the corner to find.

Aurielle whirled on her haunches in surprise at the huffing, angry growl of a bear she hadn’t realized was close by. The sow was already barreling forward and she saw the cubs racing for cover as their mama went into a rage.

The Spirit was at a disadvantage, with her white form highlighted against the black hulk of dead whale behind her, and though the bear was nearsighted, even a fuzzy target is a visible target. The charge shocked the young woman, and she backpedaled, sand spraying in all directions as the bear barreled toward her at full pelt.

Her haunches smacked into the dark, strange hide of the whale behind her, which meant her white coat stood out like a beacon to even the nearsighted bear, and it veered for her, locking fully onto her location. As it closed in, huffing and snarling, she gained a grip on her pattering heart and braced herself, crouching to loosen her joints and be ready to spring.

Any other event she would have gladly given ground to the bear and her cubs, but this was an opportunity to feed her pack and further cement bonds between Fyri and Valhalla, and she couldn’t pass it up. Especially since she’d already called for her allies to share in the bounty.

When the bear closed in fully, the wolf leapt forward with a snarl and ducked low, risking her hide to get in under the bear’s guard and twisted her head to slash her canines upward at the beast’s neck, hoping to score a lacerating blow on its throat.

She was only half successful—she got half her slash in, leaving a deep gash in her hide, but the bear had come in faster than expected, and her hit was low. Add to that the heavy paw that clubbed into her side, sending her crashing against the inside of the bear’s other foreleg, and she was wondering if she’d get out of there alive.

She was winded, but still in a position to strike again, and she took full advantage of the opportunity, twisting to snap her jaws at the bear’s throat again. She angled her bite in such a way that she might be able to sink her upper canines into her neck to the hilt and felt mixed emotions of relief and misgivings as she got the bite she wanted.

She was latched to the throat of a black bear, and within easy reach of the beast’s front paws. She was definitely afraid, but she was doggedly holding on. She felt claws sear through her right shoulder, leaving ragged wounds in her hide and painting her shimmering white coat crimson.

She arched her frame, wrenching her head from side to side violently before she was wrenched free by the bear’s front legs. Ripping a chunk from her neck as she went.

The bear was bleeding freely from the throat, and she thought, at first, that she had severed the jugular. Maybe she had. Whatever the answer, the black bear had taken all the hell it could stand for the day, and took off with a painful growl, her cubs in tow, spattering blood on the sand as she retreated to safety and sought out a new source of food.

Aurielle sagged to the sand, leaning against the whale carcass and panting as she regained her breath, eyes closed, but ears still alert. Finally, she turned to drag her tongue over the fresh claw-marks that ripped open her right shoulder. They’d scar, perhaps horrifically, but she’d take scars over being dead, any time.

She felt beyond tired, and seriously bruised and beaten up, but there was a sense of satisfaction at having defended something that would hopefully feed her pack for ages to come. Maybe even longer if this meat dried well.

Slowly, finally, she shook her head, letting out a rough, almost hysterical laugh. She had to admit even to herself, that she seemed to have a knack for pissing off larger predators. That was both shoulders scarred, now… and she just hoped her ribs were only bruised.

Of all the days to go alone somewhere.

Wordcount: 1184

Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Hear" ---- Think