Seed of a Pine

Chapter 25

I moved softly through the silver pines, my alder bow held steady, a wooden arrow notched in place. I wore no shoes, as barefoot was best not to startle them. There was a fog in the mountains this morning, the early light shafting through it in diagonal bursts of gold. It was cool and the humidity felt pleasant on my face and skin. Then I heard it. A rustle to my left. I turned in that direction and paced forwards, my mouth growing dry in anticipation of partridge for dinner later that evening. Expecting to see the plump fowl scratching at leaves in the clearing ahead, I was instead shocked when I poked my head around the nearest pine. A mother black bear was nosing at a fallen log, finding grubs and other nutrients inside. Not far away, two cubs were wrestling with each other, enjoying a good tussle. I observed them for a moment, admiring their beauty, and then stepped back. I meant to leave them alone and unaware of me, my people did not hunt bear as a rule. We respected these great scavengers of the forest as having an important role in the network of life. But I unluckily stepped on a pinecone, which crunched loudly.

The bear looked up, immediately zeroing in on my presence. I froze, keeping my bow lowered. She was looking right at me, her fur puffing up slightly at the sight and scent of a fellow scavenger. We stared at each other for a long moment. Bears in these woods were rarely aggressive, only when cornered or desperately hungry. Or protecting their young. Still a mother bear would typically prefer to run rather than fight when give the chance. As would I, particularly as I was armed with a flimsy partridge bow at the moment and only a handful of arrows, which were not metal tipped. They would prove no more than splinters to the bear, if I was forced to use them.

The mother stood up on her hind legs. She was a massive creature, taller than I was in that stance, and as wide as a horse. I stood my ground and did not break eye contact. This was not a show of aggression yet. And if we were coming into a standoff, it was wiser to show some gall than to cower and crumple. She returned to all fours, at which point I took another measured step back, showing my intension as not aggressive. She watched me studiously. I took another step back. She snorted and shook her head.

That wasn't good. I knew from my people's accounts on this matter that when a bear displayed both its height and shook its head at you, it meant business. Resisting the urge to bolt for my life, I did the thing against my instincts. I continued to back away, one step at a time, slowly. The mother shook her head again, and then, so fast that it seemed impossible, she was moving towards me at a trot, then a gallop. I felt fear wash over me. This couldn't be happening. I needed to run, but I felt like my body was waterlogged and I couldn't move. Then strangely into the back of my mind, I had a notion that this wasn't right. She didn't want to attack me. She hadn't charged me. Yes, I remembered now. I had backed away that day in the woods and she had gone back to eating from her log. So why was she attacking me now?

She was nearly upon me. I tried to turn away, but it was though I was locked in place. Feet away now, so massive and black and full of teeth and claws. I screamed.

"Easy, easy, you're ok, Miss Oscura."

What? How did the bear know my name? And why was she being so formal? She could just call me Reminaya like everyone else did. And why did she have a male voice? A voice that was uncannily like someone I knew.

My eyes flew open. I became aware that I was lying face up on something soft, a bed perhaps with a pillow propped under my head. I looked up and saw a silver pine above me, glowing in the soft yellow light, beautiful and magnificent. Then I blinked. It wasn't an actual pine, it was a paining of one. A confused panic came over me. I knew where I was, I had been here the night of the New Year's party, seen this very painting. But why was I back here now? The events of that afternoon and evening were starting to come back to me in pieces as I took a deep breath. But they all dropped away again when a voice spoke from the other side of me.