The small fox flicked it's tail, scanning the dirt and using it's nose like a metal detector. A strong shout swept in from the distance, causing the fox to twitch it's ears in fright. The roar sounded again, closer, and the lithe animal detected the sweaty and dusty smell of a bear.
It lumbered out of the near trees on the other side of the stream, swaggering from side to side. It had blood splattered on it's slimy lips and nose. It held a muddy, bulging belly; it's recent prey hadn't been easy.
The bear caught sight of the fox, who scanned the new threat warily with orange and brown eyes. It stood close to a thick tree, it's sunny fur dusting lightly against it.
But the bear only stared, uneasy, then gave a low, dangerous growl. It was warning the thin fox not to come near, but didn't attack. There was no reason to, and it was too fatigued. The bear bowed it's head to drink, though with distrust.
But then it threw it's head and swung it's bulky legs, soon disappearing among the green.
Not knowing what else to do, the fox leapt back to the trees, watching for less merciful predators.
I used "it" too much :(
I hate using the same word too many times in my writing, especially if it's a pronoun or adjective. You reckon I should make an alternative where the bear actually attacks the fox or nah?
