Real Bears Aren't Filled With Stuffing

Whether the bear was trying to flee into the river, or drown itself in the depths to avoid admitting defeat, the two yearlings would never know. The beast didn’t have the strength to make it to the bank of the river. It tripped over its two hindered limbs, tumbling to the earth while releasing a groan that was filled with pain. If one were to listen close enough, one may have even heard the sorrow in the bear’s voice. The sadness of leaving this world behind, and all that it loved. Perhaps it had been a father. A brother. It was someone’s son. And yet, its life had been stolen to fulfill the gluttony of the Saxe boy. He had heard the anguished cry it released in its last moments. It sounded like a young cub, crying for its mother to comfort it. And he drank it up, savoring every last drop of the agony until there was nothing left but an empty shell of a creature.


He had already been on its heels when it fell, and he didn’t hesitate to descend upon the now lifeless body. His first target was the belly, which had been sliced open enough to cause much of the small and large intestines to spill out. He went to work opening the hole, wanting to make it large enough to fit his upper half inside. He kept the other boy in his peripheral vision, noting how the body of crimson became larger as he approached. Sephiran released a low, domineering growl. One that made it clear he wouldn’t hesitate to fight if the boy tried to take what Sephiran wanted.

”Speech”