Heron Lake Plateau the honey pot

As soon as she uttered the word bear, a chill descended across Screech. He didn't want to look weak or stupid before his sibling though, so he swallowed the well intended fear and brushed off her suggestion with a snort and a shake of his head, No, no way, they're way smaller cuts than a bear. Believe me, I've fought bears — er, one bear. A long time ago. And by fight, he meant pissed at.

Still, she didn't know that.

It's probably a cat. Or... A coyote, maybe. A badger? Are there badgers in swamps? He talked to fill the void of his apprehension and wandered a little ways away from the tree, as well as from Orca, but not away from the danger. About a wolf-length beyond the grove there was a dynamic shift in the air and a strange scent was being driven straight in to their path — and this was unmistakably bad.