Caleb
There’s a raging snowstorm outside. My bear should want to hunker down and sleep, but something pulls me out of the cabin. The same bad feeling I had yesterday, but amplified. Maybe I’m just going nuts.
It’s always there. That possibility. I spent too much time in bear form. My human reasoning has been affected. My self-control.
I pull open the door and a gust of wind stings my face with snow. I’m in human form, but I lift my nose to the air, anyway, sniffing. I hear something. It’s faint, but a dog barks. There’s a frightened timbre to the bark that I pick up, even at a distance. It’s a warning bark—an emergency bark.
Fuck.
My skin itches, the urge to shift right upon me. Any sign of danger and my bear wants to rush forward. It’s why I’m hardly fit for human company these days.
