bears even prevalent in that area? Would there be a search for him? Why the hell did he turn into a bear to begin with?
Questions flooded his mind, enough to fog his thoughts. He hadn’t expected anyone to be on the road that late until headlights appeared. He stood in the middle of the road, disoriented by the bright lights. Thumping bass rung in his ears and at the last second the end of his life—human or bear—swerved to the side, barely missing him. The car spun around and came to a stop. He heard indistinct voices inside. They sounded pissed. One of them screamed.
Toby needed to find cover, fast.
He ran to the sidewalk, sticking to the side of the building for cover. The voices faded in the distance and he slowed, lumbering along the store-fronts. He inhaled as if by instinct. Passing a coffee shop, he smelled stale coffee beans even through the window. The scent warmed him. He tried again at the next store, a bakery. His mouth salivated with the taste of pastries in his mouth. He pressed his paws against the glass and was able to see a pale reflection of himself. Standing, he was the same height as his human form. The middle of him was bulky with fur. He pressed his paw to his middle and tilted his head to the side. He felt like himself even though his reflection was a damn bear.
He pushed off the window and lumbered around the corner. Across the street was a park. There were jogging trails through the woods at the far end of the grounds. It was the perfect place for him to hide while he waited a substantial amount of time for Don to calm down and the police take his statement. He wondered how long that would take. He thought of how he left his home; how Don would have saw the situation. The sliding door was open, tattered clothes were strewn on the ground, and a bear in his house. If there had been blood, he knew Don would overreact. He was a nice man but his ability to get overwhelmed by the simplest things—such as property lines near his rose bed—kept Toby from ever wanting to see him outside of a passing greeting every now and then.
He jogged across the street, passing the playground, and slowing near the edge of the trees. The feel of the dirt on his paws grounded him. The scent of grass was intensified and quickly became a favorite smell. He started to connect with his bear-side and tested his new, intense senses.
A slow breeze sighed through the trees and he lifted his nose, snuffling the scents around him. A nearby tree caught his attention and he went closer. Deep claw marks marred the bark and Toby dug his nose against the base. A scent that was sharp to his nose like a strong oily smell clung to his nostrils. He backed away, cataloging the scent for another time.
Further into the woods, he felt safe enough to relax. He sat on his haunches and reviewed what had happened to him that night. He—somehow— turned into a bear. The pain had been excruciating but the memory of it had evaporated as soon as he had transformed. How did one become a bear?
He tried to speak again. More grunts fell from his mouth. He couldn’t help but laugh, the sound more of a satisfied grunt. He pressed his paw into the ground and dug his claws into the dry earth. The overwhelming nightmares he’d experienced burst into the forefront of his mind. Were they precursors to what was happening to him? Along with becoming a bear did he have some strange prediction powers?
At the moment he didn’t sense any oncoming pain, so he assumed he was stuck in that form. For some reason, Estrella’s voice came into his mind about the power of positivity. If this strange metamorphosis wasn’t permanent he might as well make the best of it.
He caught the scent of something and immediately fell on all fours. His ears perked and his nose was pointed to the ground. Whatever it was, it smelled delicious. A rumble resonated in his stomach. Whatever he smelled would satisfy his craving even though he had no idea how he knew that.
It
Questions flooded his mind, enough to fog his thoughts. He hadn’t expected anyone to be on the road that late until headlights appeared. He stood in the middle of the road, disoriented by the bright lights. Thumping bass rung in his ears and at the last second the end of his life—human or bear—swerved to the side, barely missing him. The car spun around and came to a stop. He heard indistinct voices inside. They sounded pissed. One of them screamed.
Toby needed to find cover, fast.
He ran to the sidewalk, sticking to the side of the building for cover. The voices faded in the distance and he slowed, lumbering along the store-fronts. He inhaled as if by instinct. Passing a coffee shop, he smelled stale coffee beans even through the window. The scent warmed him. He tried again at the next store, a bakery. His mouth salivated with the taste of pastries in his mouth. He pressed his paws against the glass and was able to see a pale reflection of himself. Standing, he was the same height as his human form. The middle of him was bulky with fur. He pressed his paw to his middle and tilted his head to the side. He felt like himself even though his reflection was a damn bear.
He pushed off the window and lumbered around the corner. Across the street was a park. There were jogging trails through the woods at the far end of the grounds. It was the perfect place for him to hide while he waited a substantial amount of time for Don to calm down and the police take his statement. He wondered how long that would take. He thought of how he left his home; how Don would have saw the situation. The sliding door was open, tattered clothes were strewn on the ground, and a bear in his house. If there had been blood, he knew Don would overreact. He was a nice man but his ability to get overwhelmed by the simplest things—such as property lines near his rose bed—kept Toby from ever wanting to see him outside of a passing greeting every now and then.
He jogged across the street, passing the playground, and slowing near the edge of the trees. The feel of the dirt on his paws grounded him. The scent of grass was intensified and quickly became a favorite smell. He started to connect with his bear-side and tested his new, intense senses.
A slow breeze sighed through the trees and he lifted his nose, snuffling the scents around him. A nearby tree caught his attention and he went closer. Deep claw marks marred the bark and Toby dug his nose against the base. A scent that was sharp to his nose like a strong oily smell clung to his nostrils. He backed away, cataloging the scent for another time.
Further into the woods, he felt safe enough to relax. He sat on his haunches and reviewed what had happened to him that night. He—somehow— turned into a bear. The pain had been excruciating but the memory of it had evaporated as soon as he had transformed. How did one become a bear?
He tried to speak again. More grunts fell from his mouth. He couldn’t help but laugh, the sound more of a satisfied grunt. He pressed his paw into the ground and dug his claws into the dry earth. The overwhelming nightmares he’d experienced burst into the forefront of his mind. Were they precursors to what was happening to him? Along with becoming a bear did he have some strange prediction powers?
At the moment he didn’t sense any oncoming pain, so he assumed he was stuck in that form. For some reason, Estrella’s voice came into his mind about the power of positivity. If this strange metamorphosis wasn’t permanent he might as well make the best of it.
He caught the scent of something and immediately fell on all fours. His ears perked and his nose was pointed to the ground. Whatever it was, it smelled delicious. A rumble resonated in his stomach. Whatever he smelled would satisfy his craving even though he had no idea how he knew that.
It
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