The Sow Bear

She knew it was a dream, but not for lack of realistic feeling.

She looked down at massive bear paws that sunk into the snow, and the breath that fogged ahead of her snout.

The taste of iron filled her mouth and nostrils, and as she opened her jaws, dark blood and her canines spilled out onto the blueish snow. She felt it then, two or three arrows lodged into her right shoulder and back.

She turned her head, the motion enough to exhaust her.

The hunter was there, an arrow nocked as his gaze locked onto her.

There was no real face to place, only an amalgamation of cold strangers.

That did not matter when he lost it a moment later to the dark wolf that launched itself from the shadows, taking half the hunter’s cheek and his throat within its bite.

The dream was over then. Not a single scream or spray of blood, just her pounding heart as she lay still in bed.

What am I losing my teeth to?

She had given up on the fourth or fifth time she dreamt the same thing in an attempt to figure out why she had become a bear in the first place. She wanted the dream to rewind so she could see what it was she had fought so viciously to warrant such damage. The wolf, a new addition, had yet to reveal himself as true friend or foe despite being her temporary savior.