Uncle Boris Hates Bears!

Drífa trailed after the scent of Winter who had gone missing from the celebration. Her nerves were on end with worry, thoughts of all the terrible things that could happen to a pup whirling through her head. Her anxiety then shot through the roof as she caught scent of a polar bear. Oh gods! She hurried, moving as fast as her little legs could carry her until she found the girl and the bear and she would've feinted if she suddenly weren't so angry at the bear. How dare it have the gall to attack an heir of Winterfell! She didn't see the cat at the front of the bear but she did see it shuffling back and so she launched herself forward, fangs tearing into its left hind leg, intent on slicing through its achilles tendon and crippling it so she and the girl could get away.