Mama Bear And Baby Bear Were... Oh Shit

The bear bucks and writhes in an attempt to dislodge its rider. Tove holds on, forelegs wrapped tightly around its shoulders as she continues to dig into its scruff. With a great roar, it redoubles its efforts to send her flying. Taking the hint, Tove nimbly leaps off the broad shoulders and lands softly on the near by ground. Eyes dart to the gray male and sees he means to do harm.

For a moment, she feels sad at the thought of taking down this mother bear but, in the end, they need to survive more than the bear. She runs forward as the beast turns to strike at her fighting companion and leaps up to grab the wound on its neck. Teeth sink in and she thrashes while moving back toward the ground. The wound grows and blood gushes out in hot, pulsing increments. Tove knows the bear will be dead soon enough.

The soft cry of the cub pulls her attention away from her fighting companion and the dying bear. Swiftly she moves to the confused young cub and grabs it by the back of the neck. With a twist and pull she snaps its neck in the most painless and humane way possible. While she does not take pleasure in the killing, she knows she is sparing the cub a more violent death. One so young would not be able to survive without its mother.


"Tove Baade"