Redhawk Caldera lying upside down

@Towhee

Spring had been good to him this year. Food had been easy to find, scuffles were uncommon.

Lumbering towards the caldera, the bear took in surrounding air and the scents that came with it. His stomach was rumbling once more, having grown used to his frequent meals. Fat legs stopped in their place, Chunk groaning in supposed displeasure.

Whether berries, a leftover carcass, or another animal's young left on it's own, he planned to eat.

She stared across Lake Rodney from the foot of the caldera, eyeing a small herd of deer—just four does, by the looks of it—nimbly moving along the shoreline. Towhee made no move toward them, simply observed, letting her ticking muscles cool down after a long patrol around the territory’s base.

The temperamental spring wind shifted suddenly and Towhee’s head turned so fast, she didn’t see the deer flee. Her eyes widened when they saw the bear lumbering this way, her own fight-or-flight instincts kicking into gear. It was an easy decision.

She began loping upward, which would afford her a better vantage point. Towhee kept an eye on the beast from over her shoulder, suddenly glad her grandson had taken his time moving here. It meant she would have to deal with this threat on her own, though hopefully she could just stay out of its way and it would simply pass by.

The scent of wolf hits him suddenly and harshly, like walking into a wall of dung.

He turns his head but does not spot the canine. However with a smell so strong, he knows they have to be close. But you know what they say; gamers bears never look up. Well, not really, but his neck rolls do make it uncomfortable. Unwilling to raise to his back legs without first knowing where the other may potentially charge from, he instead lets out a 'roar', an attempt to intimidate.

The sound that came out of the bear’s mouth frightened a flock of birds from a tree near the caldera’s base. Towhee glanced at the cloud of small, feathered bodies rising into the sky, then peered the other way, toward the bear. Had it made a sound? Although she had no idea, the fur along her spine slowly stood on end.

She remained motionless, watching it warily as it did the same. Oh, come on, Towhee silently coaxed, keep moving. Get out of here, you… It took her brain a moment to come up with the most suitable epithet. Lardass.

No response except for the fleeing birds. Chunk decides that he's tired of wasting his time.

With a final scan over the eye-level area, he then continues down into the caldera in search of something to eat. He can see that it is well lived in, and he is sure the place has some history; not that he cares much. It doesn't smell like bear, and bear history is the only history that really affects him. Bears are mean, he would know.

With an exhale he claws at the ground absent-mindedly. If wolves live here, then a cache must be hidden somewhere. He just needs to find it.

Before Towhee knew it, the bear had crested the rim and descended into the caldera’s innermost reaches. Hackles still raised, she carefully ascended the slope until she reached the uppermost ridge line. Her orange eyes immediately found the bear nearing the sunken lake, apparently scrounging around for food. The only scraps he might find were in the Hobbit Hole. Doubtless he would sniff them out.

There was nothing she could do about it, nor did it really matter that much at the moment, seeing as nobody else was here. Towhee would just have to wait out the danger, refusing to let the bear leave her sight again. She didn’t dare take a seat from her perch, legs braced as she kept track of its movements while making none of her own.

Lumbering through the area as a scent caught him, he soon, finally, lifted his head and spotted the wolf he had been smelling. No wonder it was so rank - she looked ancient. She had aged like a smelly, smelly, cheese.

Rising to his back legs, he simply stared at her. Surely something so old would not try to attack him, but he wanted to attempt to scare her away nonetheless. Having eyes on him was getting pretty annoying, and her smell was ruining his appetite.

It gave her the heebs when the bear rose onto its hind legs, despite the distance and height separating them. It was still terrifying… especially when it looked right at her. And stared. Towhee blinked, staring right back, the raised ridge of fur along her spine rippling now.

Fuck, that’s creepy, she mumbled under her breath (or so she hoped). Stop looking at me, you whackass fatass.

Towhee shifted under that beady gaze, wondering if the bear was thinking of climbing up here and coming after her. She could probably outrun it but she really hoped it wouldn’t chase her in the first place.

You don’t want to eat me, she said a little louder now, I’ll taste fusty, like farts and old leather.