The Wall you should have forgotten my name the day you heard it

The shore, a glacier, the plains—to reach her would have been done with ease, familiarity ingrained in each step taken. But the mountains were a new realm, untravelled and uneasy; even the most heedful of wolves could have their legs swiftly swiped from beneath them, overturned by preciously placed pieces of earth. By this, he was slowed, physically, but reflexes set ablaze; burning with overwhelming intensity, a hyper-focus wave struck him, senses locked onto his target—

—moving, slipping, falling.

Driven by forces he could not place—call it instincts, perhaps—the bear turned sideways and braced himself where he felt most sure-footed. And as the pallid wisp sought to steal past him, Aningan struck forth with parted jaws, akin to a cobra, and plucked her from her descent; a bear saving a bird, taking hold of her scruff and leaning back, stiffened legs held out before him to prevent himself from being yanked down.

But even settling her back on solid ground, he could not free her from his grasp; adrenaline coursed through his veins, the thrumming of his own heart the only thing he could hear. Trembling—be it relief or fear, he could not tell—he was lost to the moment, there but absent, replaying the event in his head; he feared letting her go, feared that doing so would cast them back to moments ago, her fall on repeat in his head.