why does it always have to a bear?

Winter quickly gave way to Spring in a grand, sweeping fashion. Chilled air elevated into a warm, balmy breeze that swept brine and salt off of the ocean shores. Rains scattered over the continent, watering the earth, and hurriedly pushing the flora into life. Trees grew full, grasses reached toward the sky, and bushes were lined full to the brim with juicy berries. Enticed out of hibernation and the turning cold in the north, bears easily migrated across the bridge toward the berry grove and the salmon filled streams of the cedar grove not far off. It was well known that bears traipsed through the territory, but Bramble had not expected to see one of such a large size.

The mother black bear was perhaps the largest ursine she'd seen in awhile. Her beady eyes stare back into her turquoise as they face each other off. This trip was supposed to have been an easy sweep of the territory border. Ensure no one had trespassed then head back for a late breakfast. Hell, the sun hadn't even completely risen over the horizon yet! If it hadn't been for her twin cubs scrambling up the nearby tree, Bramble probably wouldn't have even noticed them. Be it as it may, the mother was feeling rather territorial and motherly (who was to blame her) and quickly turned aggressive.

Large paws and even longer claws swiped out at her. Backing up into a corner of trees, Bramble was blindly backed against a tree. How do I get out of this? Her mind screams as her eyes dart left and right. With the mother creeping closer, intent on eliminating the threat against her babies, Bramble began to set her defenses and ready herself for an inevitably bloody fight.

"Bramble"