The Last Polar Bear

Chapter 2

Leksjoner – lessons

Our time at the den was short. When Solen is at his highest, he pushes the ice plains north. As the season changed, Nanna felt the call northwards, for she knew we must follow the snub-nose. 

Nanna moved off in front to guide the way, Tórbjörn followed and I scampered behind. I felt uneasy and turned to look at our shelter for one last time before I lost sight of it and descended the slopes to the sea. Even though Nanna did not say so, we would never see it again.

Solen's unblinking gaze helped Spring to spread throughout the landscape. The endless drift of white seeped away, punctured by the grey of the rock and the green of the plant. I watched the constant change of the tundâr as it shed its coat and bled from the inside; what were once small streams of melt water turned into gushing flows falling from the slopes above. It cracked the manalaq and created deep crevasses, fracturing the ground like giant claw marks, the water pushing and urging, eager to be devoured by the sea. The thinner melt then froze, hardening the ground and making it difficult for unsteady legs. Nanna taught me to test the different types of ground by their feel and colour in order to find the patches I could grip more easily.

Every paw towards the sea meant another step further from my home and my comfort, and yet Tórbjörn was so excited. To him it seemed a great adventure; he only cared about seeing the snub-nose. 'Just you wait. I'll catch so many I will be feeding for an entire season!'

I chuffed at him for his boastfulness; with the wind against us, he did not notice my disapproval. 'If you are kind to me, little sister, I will let you have a tail.' I knew he would not be saying such things if he thought Nanna could hear him.

'You will not catch anything,' I said, annoyed at his confidence. 'They will hear your bragging long before you get anywhere near them.'

'Well, at least they won't be able to smell me first! You'll even have trouble trying to catch their cubs. Too big for you!' he scoffed. I was thin-skinned about my small size: my brother was already much larger than me and I did not like him rubbing my face in it. I charged at him, forgetting what Nanna had told me about watching where to put my pads. I slipped on a thin patch of ice and landed on my jaw. Tórbjörn found it hysterical. 'You see? Your claws can't even hold the ice – you might not even make it there!' To add to my indignity, he showed me how easy it was by prancing off past Nanna.

'Slow down, Tórbjörn, you must not go in front of me,' Nanna scolded. 'You do not know what lies ahead. Besides, you will need your energy.' He obediently stopped with his head lowered to show submission and waited for Nanna to pass him. As I caught up, I tried to make fun of him but he ignored me, which just made me feel foolish.

The rhythmic sound of waves and the rich smell of boundless waters filled our ears and noses, calling us more eagerly the closer we came. Nanna had brought us down the slopes then gradually up towards a bank of rock, which had restricted our sight. When we arrived at its top, the view that greeted us stopped me in my tracks. Vast ice shores stretched out to the north east and beyond. In the distance, huge walls of ice soared from the depths of black waters, silent giants cleft in two by the sea, exposing the rich blue of their underbellies to Solen. A strange sense flooded through me. Filled with a mixture of excitement and fear, my fur bristled, sending a tingling stream down my neck and back and making me shiver involuntarily. I shook the feeling away and moved a little faster to catch up with the others.

For a time, Nanna continued to skirt the shoreline at a distance, her nose low to the ground, before making her way down to a large area of exposed water surrounded by ice. She slumped down to rest near the edge and waited, snorting the air. 'What can you smell?' she asked when we were both by her side.