Firefly Glen You'll find something waiting

The spear had been a bust, but he had quickly found elsewhere to support his appetite. Today in particular he snacked on what was leftover of a carcass of a deer - he had lucked out, this one had been relatively fresh when he found it. The hunter was likely still nearby, but the bear assumed they must be on their way out.

Scavenging was far easier than anything else this time of year. Maybe when the ice melted he would fish the way that Little Wolf had taught him, but that would only be on days where he was feeling particularly energized. Most animals had begun to have litters as well, but they tended to get nastier than usual if he got too close because of it. It was too bad - the babies made for a good snack when he managed to grab one or two.

Lifting his heavy head as a breeze blew by, dark eyes looked out to the East. Mountaintops and rivers, a sight to be appreciated. He would have to travel that way sometime soon.

With his black bear pelt slung across his shoulders, he looked the part of such a creature; he was thankful most of the face remained intact, even if the rest of the pelt was beginning to thin in places, and this was positioned atop his own head—more accidental than anything, as this was simply the way it had fallen and he had not yet adjusted it.

He moseyed through the glen, remembering bits and pieces about its paths and its hiding places from when he was a child; but it wasn't a place he avidly visited, and beyond that he had grown far too tall for many of the spots he had found. There was the unmistakable piss-musk of a fox winding hotly among the bushes at one point, and he reared back with his snout scrunched.

Blinking and sucking at air like he had been underwater for too long, Mojag did not immediately see the rounded haunch of the bear until it was too late—although, it was at a distance and did not appear to have a head, immediately, and through the misty-eyed squint of Mojag, it didn't make much sense to look at.

Then the head turned, and two little ears fluffed atop it. As Mojag's nervous system alerted him to the obvious danger, he immediately crouched among the green with the hope he would not be spotted.

A breeze blew by, and a strange scent hit his nose. Wolf and bear all at once. He wrinkled his nose, head turning to spot the source. What sort of strange creature could this be?

Lumbering away from his carcass and towards the scent, he gave a 'harumph' to call to the bear, should it be there. He could smell the fur; it was different from himself, but bear nonetheless.

The idea of another bear was rather exciting; he saw very few within the wilds. While it meant less competition, it could be rather lonely. To simply see another would be pleasant.

Spying black fur among the green of new spring growth he took a few deep and audible sniffs towards the source, offering a grunt.