Bear of a Temper [Fighting Skill Prompt]

A glimmer of sympathetic amusement flickered in the Spirit’s eyes as Song tried to smile but couldn’t quite manage it. She had little doubt she looked a frightful mess with blood caking in her fur. Her muzzle dipped in a nod at his words, eyes flicking back to the giant carcass again before his question brought a rough laugh from her throat.

“I suppose so. I could have run from the bear, but… the opportunity to feed my pack and even my allies was too great… And I was here, first.” That last came with a grin, before her eyes turned to the gashes on her shoulder.

She dragged her tongue over the ones she could reach best as she mused, “He’ll be conflicted, most likely. On the one paw, one of his family has been wounded, and his leader at that. On the other paw, this is a chance for him to try suturing and pain relief methods, and he always enjoys finding ingenious ways to heal others. Having his monkey and lemur companions has opened his horizons vastly.”

A throb overcame the fading adrenalin and she paused, then took a careful breath and chuckled, “I will admit this is beginning to ache now that I’m not trying to fight off an irrationally angry mother bear, and I’ll be glad to see what kind of pain relief he has. I’ve little doubt that mother bear would probably love a whole bushel of poppy seeds… I got her throat. Not sure if I hit the jugular. Since this is closer to Fyri than Valhalla, I think your pack may want to keep an eye open for a wounded bear. Or a dead one. Their pelts should make good den liners, especially in the north.”

She let herself sink to the sand, figuring that now that Song was reassured of her being alive and lucid, she had little need to sit straight and prim like a Queen. She was among friends, here. Well, one friend. She didn’t need to maintain all her dignity.

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