Whitebark Stream whitefang

From her spot in the snow, the little bear wordlessly observed her new companion as he seemed to listen and approach. The more she stared, the more ghost-like the boy became. She wondered wistfully if his world was bathed in the same red light as his eyes. Daring not to make any sudden moves for fear of him vanishing back into the snow, Mishka wagged her tail slightly and took a step back as he stepped forward.

She was relieved when he finally began to tuck into her leftovers, though it soon reappeared - poor thing! A whine escaped her throat, was it a bad fish? It certainly hadn't tasted rotten to her, but who knows...catching his gaze, she opened her mouth to speak gently again. "It is okay, I get you another." Perhaps this time it would stay in his belly. Though she did not expect a reply, her first words to him had seemed to be understood, and so she would update him if only to make him a little more at ease with her movements.

Keeping her distance still, she trotted back to the river bank and got to work.