Into The Wilderness

“Aw! It’s so adorable!”

He moves to slowly, calculating each step, unsure if the next is going to send him tumbling to the ground. Everything looks untrustworthy, glancing from the ground to his left, back to the ground, this time to the right.

“What’s it looking for?”

She knew the answer, but she wanted her boyfriend to know it too. Sometimes, she wondered if he really is curious, or just liked to state the obvious, entertaining some imaginary audience that follows him wherever he goes. Maybe they were clapping now, laughing on cue, herding the sheep.  Sometimes, she wishes his crowd would just boo him, just once.

The mother bear meanders on the scene.

“That a big one.” He states, obviously.

The mother ensures her cub that yes, she’s indeed here, watching him, and finally, he attempts to run. The first run turns into a stumble, and he rolls to his belly. The mother nudges him with her snout, and the cub tries again, this time, succeeding as he springs over to his brothers.

“See? I told you this was a good idea.” Leon says.

He was right, taking days he didn’t have, along with a credit card to bring them there.

For her.

She knew this, of course, and she did everything she could to convince him that this was irresponsible and they couldn’t afford it. In the end, she was glad she failed. The arrogance of him though…tainted the trip a bit.

“We have to love the moment, Pippa. Otherwise, what’s the point?”

“Calm down before the cliché police get here.”

She focuses on the cubs, as Leon tries to calm himself down. Leon watches the mama bear oversee her kids. What that feeling is like, to be a mother- rather, a parent, seems so foreign- caring about something so much more than yourself. Pippa wiggles in his view, trying to get a closer look, and suddenly, it doesn’t seem so weird.

This was the right choice- a good idea. It’s all coming together.

Mama bear stands up, shifting its weight to her back legs, trying to get a better look of something. The cubs don’t mind. They continue to wrestle. Pippa’s focus couldn’t’ be broken by a meteorite, but Leon’s curiosity has him following the mom’s eyes. He looks into the tress and sees a hint of grey. It doesn’t look like much, but Leon focuses on it anyway.

“Leon?”

Pippa says something to him, but he wants to see what’s there. Leon and the mom continue to look for something, but it’s Leon that sees additional grey. He recognizes the fur, and notices that the grey is moving- moving closer to the mama bear. Another hide creeps in, and now the adult, female black bear recognizes the threat. It falls on her front legs, and growls to intimidate the incoming predators. It doesn’t, so she tries again. The fear is there, and the mama bear gives pause to verify if she had to act. Leon could feel the nerves about what needs to be done.

She charges to meet them.

“No!”

Pippa’s voice grabs his attention. Leon looks over at the two cubs. They wrestle too close to the ledge, and some of the rocks give away. One of the cubs tumble over.

“Oh shit.” It’s all Leon could muster.

It was such a dramatic moment, but maybe it was the either the daily new cycle or multiple angles of death through TV and film that seem to lesser the tragedy of loss in real life. He was just simply numb. Life perishes, comes and goes, and death takes whomever it pleases. What makes this loss different from the ones that happen every other day?

“Pippa, we should go. Let’s head back to—”

Leon stops talking when he realizes he’s alone. He shuffles to the ledge where they were, giving them the vintage point to watch all of this nature unfolds at a safe distance. He looks down to see that Pippa is closing the gap.

“What are you doing?” His whisper comes out louder than he liked.

“Did you see that? That cub is done for if we don’t do something.”

“What are we going to do?” What if the mama bear comes back?”

“That’s why we have to hurry up.”

He wants to go after her, but he knows it’s pointless. Pippa is small, but agile. It doesn’t help that she drags him to the rock wall all the time. She always gloats when she’s looking down at him. Plus, he knows better than to get involved when her mind is made up. He figures he could help elsewhere.

#

The ledge is easy- the slope wasn’t even that steep. She half-expects Leon to come lumbering down after her, but that chicken shit wouldn’t even try. They aren’t even that high, and the ledge connects to where the little ridge the bears were on. From what she can see, she has two feet of solid ground to shimmy where the cubs tumbled to.

Speaking of which, she only saw one of them.

It is still a distance from her, but it is close enough to climb down and retrieve the missing cub.

Am I quick enough? She thinks.

She is a good climber. It is her stress relief in a world full of stressors. If a relationship could be as satisfying as completing a climb, she would have three boyfriends at a minimum. She realizes that she’s thinking about it too long, and the whimpers of the cub get to her.

Let’s do this.

#

Leon isn’t quick, but he moves as fast as he could to get a better look at the brawl. He is still 30 yards away, and hidden in some brush.

The wolves keep their distance as the bear waits, delaying her charge. The stalemate surprises him. It’s three on one— it’s like a no-brainer. The bear must have about hundred pounds on the wolves. She was towering over them. Both parties growled at each other, and Leon started to zone out.

This is getting kind of boring.

One of the wolves think it has a blindside, but the bear swipes at the wolf when it lunges. The wolf tumbles to the side, rolls then charges. The bear misses the tactic- the second wolf attacks in this window, chumping down on one of the bears legs. The bear roars. It takes its massive jaws and bites on the pursuer.

The whelp of one of the wolves is the loudest thing he heard so far, and then, as if being called, the third wolf charges. The leader wants it to end, lunging towards the mama bear’s neck. A powerful paw bats the alpha away. The bitten wolf withdraws. The first attacker doesn’t waste the opportunity; though still groggy from the first swipe, the attacker lunges.

Mama bear smacks him away, and again, they’re at a stalemate.

Both parties growl. Whimpers mix in with the posturing. The bear shifts its weight once more, and roars, making herself twice as big as she was before.

The wolves retreat, taking slow steps backwards, not giving the bear a chance to follow them. They back deeper into the woods, and disappear. The adrenaline continues to flow into the mother, who concentrates on each breath. Leon realizes that she is focusing on its breathing, trying to relax. She realizes that she won, and wants to move on.

Then Leon hears something weird.

That was so close, she says. I have to do better. I can’t be taking fights like this. I have to scare them off quicker.

Why would the bear be critiquing herself? He thinks.

He realizes that none of this was probably happening. Bears aren’t people. They aren’t capable of thought like that. The bear brain isn’t complex enough to think that critically. She’s probably just saw or smelled more food. Then another thing happens.

Mama bears looks right at him.

#           

Little steps make big strides.

It’s a mantra that she thinks over, over, and over again.

This is exhausting.

The climb itself isn’t bad. She’s done 30 footers, 60 footers, and as soon as she starts jogging again, she’s going to go for a 90-foot rock climb wall. The thought energizes her, and her plan after that is to try the smaller ones in a free climb- no safety gear. It’s really not that dangerous, because they still put a net, but the freedom excites her.

It doesn’t take too much fear out of this scenario.

She sees the bear panic on a small ledge that he landed on. She hears the whimpers as he realizes how far he is from his mother, and that causes him to cry out. He cries for his mother, like any other lost cub.

He’s crying to me.

It’s a ridiculous thought, but it drives her forward. She slides itch by itch to which the cub actually notices her. The cub stares at her hard, trying to analyze who she is, how she got down here, and why she was actually doing it. It must have been discouraged by her appearance, because he started to whimper again.

Stupid bear.

She was determined, however; no matter how incapable the little, lost cub thought she was, she was going to save the day. Nature’s number one protector— saving one little woodland creature at a time. Maybe they should find a ranger after this, and he could like, give her a badge or something. The thought of it makes her wish she was a brownie, but soon she realizes that she would be better than a brownie. She would be a forest protector, or that thing Leon always calls her…something from his Dungeons and Dragons game.

A Druid.

She likes the sound of that, a whole lot better than a brownie. It just makes her feel small, and too cutesy. She’s not cute- she’s a Druid, protector of the—

Her foot misses the ledge, kicking the open air.

#

“I know what this looks like, but…but-” Leon loses the words as he catches himself reasoning with a bear. “This isn’t what it looks like.”

Mama bear roars. It’s all the convincing that he needs.

He bolts.

At this very moment, he figures, he could outrun a bear. Maybe it’s all just hype. How do people really know how fast bears are? They just really have to understand the power of adrenaline, and that fear is the greatest motivator. He hears the forest brush crunch underneath his feet, and the steps seems so quick. The winds cool his seat on his face and in his armpits. This makes him regret not trying out for the track team in high school. He starts to plan to zig zag, or make a hard cut to try to juke the raging mother. He might have to try to dart up a tree to make him harder pretty than he’s worth. Leon imagines Pippa watching him make giant Z’s in the forest, and her mocking him the whole time. He figures then to try to the juke.

He plants his left foot, stopping the momentum of his body weight to change direction, only to realize that his step wasn’t enough. His body keeps going. It takes a second to wonder why he chose to do this in front of a tree, but the tree doesn’t give him an answer.

The tree just knocks him out.

#

Pippa looks up at a pull-up bar. It towers over her, like some annoying jock who feels like the only way he’s going to get what he wants out of life is ruin another. She looks up and waits for it to try; try to make fun of her freckles, and the dimples she makes when she smiles. It always made her feel so insecure about her smile…

She realizes there is no real bar here, but she wishes she cared enough back then to focus on lifting her body weight. The ledge she’s gripping attacks the many joints in her hand, hanging as her feet dangle in the air. She never looked to see how far down it is, and she’s not fiending to do so now. A part of her is curious, and wonders if it will motivate her. The cramping in her shoulders make a stronger case— it’s not worth it.

She focuses on the bear, who now is interested. He’s probably wondering if she’s going to fall— his whimpering stops. The look on his face reminds her of her little brother, watching TV he likes.

You’re such a dick.

She will not be some snotty, little bear’s entertainment. For some reason, she doesn’t remember that she could never complete even one pull-up in all her years of school. She doesn’t even gloat when she completes the first one of her entire life.

#

Leon’s face is wet, but that’s not what wakes him up.

It’s the pain, throbbing in the middle of his head. He touches his nose, and yelps.

God, it’s broken.

He stands and looks for the mama bear. Hopefully, his shenanigans make the bear disengage, and took him off her priority list. He starts to head back with his hands on his face. He insisted to Pippa that they didn’t need a first aid kit, so he can’t feel grossed out using his fingers as a bandage.

He stumbles through the trees, wondering exactly where he is. He thought this was the right way, but now, for some reason, he’s not so sure. It could be the throbbing pain in the middle of his face, or the splitting headache that seemed to develop as he started to walk.

It’s mostly not recognizing anything around him.

Head for the cliff.

It seemed like a simple enough though, so he takes off. He realizes now that he shouldn’t feel out areas he’s never been. The trip stops being exciting at this point, but he feels grateful. He’s alive, and he’s happy to share such a lovely experience with…

Pippa?

In all the mischief with the wolves and the mama bear, he forgot about her. He can’t even remember what they were doing before he went to make sure the mama bear was okay. He remembers the cliff and how she wanted to save a cub.

Then the direction on where to go became clear.

#

He makes it back to where they left off, and it’s just as quiet as it was when they left.

It’s…adorable.

Leon starts to hate her affinity for nature. Today alone, it almost got the both of them killed. He walks over the cliff edge, loathing the word cute. Why would a predator ever be considered cute? Bears don’t think humans are cute. There’s no desire to pet people, or entertain themselves by watching human nature. They just perceive mankind as a danger and defend themselves. The logic is there, as just trying to defend their way of life, but Leon doesn’t like it anyhow. He’s mad at himself for not looking over the edge. The thought terrifies him. He doesn’t want to find Pippa that way, if she’s there at.

If he could see her, would she still be alive? How far down of a fall could she even survive? Leon starts to take inventory on his climbing tools. He’s not fit, but not unfit either. There will be no marathons in his future, but how far down could he climb? Could he climb down far enough, carry to her far enough to save her?

The whimpering worries him because he can’t feel it. The warmness of his face numbs everything, and his hand is soaked with different bodily fluids. Paralyzed with fear, and numb from pain and tears, he’s pissed to realize he’s crying—

Until he realizes that he’s not.

“Stupid bear. Go. Go find your stupid mom.”

Leon hears more brush crunch under quick steps that don’t match up with the average stride of a person.

“If she eats you, it’s your own fault!”

He turns to watch Pippa put on her long-sleeved t-shirt.

“Great, now I smell like trees and poo.”

She walks up to Leon, looking at him strangely.

“What happened to your face?” Leon just looks at her. “Have you been crying?”

“I…”

“You look like shit.”

Pippa begins to investigate. The swelling is pretty bad. His nose grew twice the normal size, and she’s surprised to notice because of the discoloring. The purple hue skews the lines that make up his nostril, cheeks, and jaw bone. It’s like…he mushed his face up against something.

“How’d it that happen?”

Leon looks at her for a second, but only a second. He rushes her to give her a huge hug, and squeezes as if to keep her from falling off the same edge. She’s still warm from her climb, and it starts to overwhelm her, until she feels something on her face. It’s wet, so she checks it, worried that it was more blood (a lot had dried above his mouth.) It’s clear though, and she doesn’t understand why.

“What’s wrong?”

“What I got back, and you weren’t here…I thought…I couldn’t…”

He thought I fell.

Pippa starts to hug him a little harder, then releases to kiss him.

“Ow, ow. Easy.”

She doesn’t stop.

#

The two of them are walking hand and hand, down the rest of the hiking trail.

“That was intense.”

“And you didn’t even break anything.”

Each had explained their own little adventure that they had, and Pippa couldn’t stop her laughing when Leon explained the tree incident.

“I don’t think it was that funny.”

“That’s because you didn’t see it.” She quips. “You would laugh if you saw yourself.”

“I just wish it didn’t hurt so much.”

“Hold on.”

Pippa stopped and Leon turned to her. She pecks his nose, fast enough where it surprises him. There’s a slight tingle in his nose, shocked that it might have worked a little bit. Soon, the throbbing picked back up and they continued walking.

“For a second, I thought that actually worked.”

“Oh, it definitely did.” She smiles. “If you want another, you’ll have to earn it first.”

Leon picks her up, and carries her in his arms, her laughing as she’s lifted from the ground.

“Put me down before I hit your nose.”

“Nah, I got to earn that magical kiss.”

They continue to play as he moves her from his shoulders to his arms, holding her upside down as they continue down the hiking path. They move with each other well, almost wrestling with each other like kids. Their playful streak continues throughout the end of the hiking trail, until they reach their cabin. Not to say that they wrestling continues, but their joy, innocence, and love shines through the forest as they roll together, bonding with one another— not so different from the two cubs that they once saw.