Date: Thu, 11 Feb 2016 22:36:13 -0500
From: John Evans <housecubct@gmail.com>
Subject: A Werebear Tale part 3

Life Journey:  A Werebear's Story: Crumb Trail Part 2
By.  Housecubct
housecubct@gmail.com

Authors Note: This is largely autobiographical in nature, written as
catharsis. Its the readers job to decide where the fiction stops and
starts.  Special thanks to a Furry Family that I am now a part of.  I could
not have done this with your help.  Sometimes the hardest step is the first
one.  Thanks Big Brother!!!!!



Fight or Flight

SNAP!—a sound from the trees behind him.  Matt instantly reacted,
whipping his makeshift staff in front of him and lowering himself into a
low defensive posture.  Three Bears came out of the tree line toward him at
a rapid pace, not running but still quick. His thoughts faltered, "What the
heck? How could they get this close without me hearing them, or ...  even
seeing them for that matter?  I'm seriously losing my edge," He had to
think fast –he knew things were going to get ugly quick. `The rocks!'
Matt knew he had to make it to the rocks if he wanted to survive.  He took
off at a wide angle toward the rocks, gaining distance away from the Bears;
his training was taking over.  Increase the distance from the enemy and
lessen the chance of a direct hit.

As Matt ran, his mind registered sounds from behind. "They are talking to
one another?  Freaking hell, Bears that communicate; I'm seriously
screwed." He ran, giving it all he had but he could tell that one Bear or,
hell, maybe all of the Bears were closing the distance fast.  "Plan B?  Did
I even have a plan B? ... or an A for that matter?  I'm so screwed!"

Before he got a chance to turn around to confront them, one hit him with a
swipe from its paw; it caught his pack and attempted to throw him to the
ground onto his left side. The pack's straps held, but its contents spilled
out onto the ground around him. He rolled with the impact, keeping his grip
on his staff. Coming out of the roll onto his feet he turned just in time
to see the large brown Bear lunge at him. He planted one end of the staff
in the ground, and ducked.  The staff impacted the Bear, just to the right
of its chest on the inside of the its shoulder. To Matt's surprise the
staff held and did not break; it was a small token of luck.  The Bear's
momentum catapulted it over him and into a tumble.  Matt snapped erect and
turned to face the other two bears who had begun circling him."Bears are
not pack-hunters, what is going on?  Okay ... stay calm. I got one Bear
down, only the smaller white one is between me and the rocks, time for
offense."

Matt charged straight at the white Bear, a battle scream roaring from his
throat.  It took a few steps back looking a little puzzled, swung its head
left and right, and then returned Matt's charge.  A quick glance over his
shoulder told him the other darker colored Bear was almost on him, "Just a
few more meters."

He jumped left, right, and left again, then spun with all the force he
could muster bringing the staff around in a close ark, as though swinging a
baseball bat.  He scored a lucky hit square on the Bears nose shattering
the staff.  As Matt tumbled backwards to a stop both bears collided,
getting tangled together.

His lungs were on fire; the thin air was wreaking havoc on his body.  He
looked up to see the two Bears getting up while the first Bear starting to
charge him again.  "Damn it! Still not close enough to the rocks to climb,
plan C it is," Matt slipped further into survival mode. His mind quickly
worked out the angles and the vectors that he could use for his defense or
offense.  His options were limited ...  fight or flight?  "Fight!"

Dumping what was left of his pack, Matt took out his knife and the signal
flare from his waist pouch.  "This will only work once.  I don't have a
plan D," he spoke aloud, crouching down and digging in with one foot. He
charged at the Bear with the loudest scream he could manage.  He fired the
flare at it when they were within meters of each other.  As the Bear turned
its head up and away to avoid the flare, he plunged his knife upwards into
its neck as hard as he could.  His five-inch utility blade would not do
much damage to its thick fur and hide but he only needed to slow the big
Bear down.  As he tumbled away and came up, so did it.  Matt caught a heavy
paw across his left shoulder, it threw him a few meters to the ground and
shredded the sleeve his jacket.

The impact knocked him closer to the rocks, he scrambled to his feet and
made a dash for them.  As he ran his vision began to blur and tunnel, he
felt as the blood from his wound trickled down his arm and onto his
hand. Reaching the rock he climbed as best he could but his hands were
slick and his feet heavy.  He knew that the tunnel vision was from the lack
of oxygen in the thin air.  He was losing blood and by the looks of the
blood smears he was leaving, he was losing it pretty damn fast.  He made it
to a ledge and pulled himself up into a seated position onto it.

He did not bother to look over the ledge, but he could hear the Bears
growling and whining below him.  Then, from below his feet came a roar that
scared and shook Matt to his core.  He closed his eyes and just hugged the
rocks. Fear took hold of him; he shivered and coughed uncontrollably, cried
and screamed.  His fear passed slowly leaving him a mess on the ground; the
bears below him had stopped their roaring and silence filled the air. He
opened his eyes, looked up at the waxing moon and exhaled deeply.

"Gods, Goddesses, Spirits of the forest, give me vision of clarity and
resolve this night," Matt muttered just over a whisper. His vision had
started to clear, but the pain and bleeding from his arm had not.  First
aid time!

He took off his waist pack, clipped it around his neck and removed his
jacket.  Pain shot up from his arm and shoulder.  Nothing felt broken, but
fractures and breaks could be deceptive at times.  It was a miracle he had
managed to keep hold of his knife.  He cut off the blood soaked shirtsleeve
and surveyed the damage; from what he could see he had a deep gash in the
meaty part of his shoulder and several smaller cuts on the front side of
his bicep.  From below, another roar echoed up the rock face. Aggravated,
Matt yelled back. "No, I'm not dead you freaking asshole Bear!  I didn't
come here to hurt any of you, you freaking assholes!  When I finish
patching myself up I'm going to go down there and kick all of your furry
ASSES!"  Then he gave them a roar of his own.  The sounds from below
stopped.

Taking out his first aid kit, he popped the top on the single-use
antiseptic spray. He knew this was going to hurt and it was going to hurt
bad, but the risk from not using the spray was too high.  His hand trembled
as he held up the little aerosol bottle and engaged the spray.  His mind
washed in colors as the spray hit the open, bleeding wounds.  He thanked
the Gods for the numbing agent that was included in the spray.  However, he
still leaned over and vomited the contents of his stomach over the
rocks. After he recovered, he opened one of the gauze pads and cleaned
around the wound the best he could.  The bleeding was slowing from the
spray, but it was still pronounced.  Next was the quick clot bandages;
these came from a trauma kit that he lifted on his last tour before
retirement.

"Something told me these would come in handy," he spoke aloud.  These quick
clot bandages are designed for one-handed use, an ideal application in this
situation.  They would do the trick and stay in place, but he still secured
the bandage with the duct tape he always kept in his kit. He used the
cleaning wipes from the kit to clean the smaller wounds on his arms, gut,
knees and hands and covered those with Duct-tape as well.

With most of the bleeding stopped and the first aid complete he slid the
bloody, shredded jacket back on and surveyed his options.  It was almost
dark; had it not been for the moonlight it would have been impossible to
see. Surveying the rock ledge he sat on, Matt calculated that it was about
about four feet wide and ten feet long.  It was covered overhead by a small
outcrop about five feet up.  He had to crouch to walk, but could stretch if
needed.  If it rained, the outcrop above would provide some shelter.  A few
sticks and leaves were in the corners and some dried grass and plant life
were on each side of him; several dried trees hung over within his reach.

Matt knew he wasn't going to climb any higher or leave the safety of the
rocks without some form of defense.  He eased towards the edge of his ledge
and looked down at the ground.  The big brown Bear, a Grizzly, was still
below him sitting on its rump, looking up at him as though it was waiting
for him. Matt cursed the Bear and sat back. "I won't be your dinner that
easy, you asshole."

Matt's mind slipped back into survival mode; he let it happen as it had
many times before over the years. He always seemed to find himself involved
in intractable tactical situations and he remembered what several
instructors had said to him over the years.

`The choice to fight or take flight is a simple choice to make.  Living
with the consequences of that choice is often much harder than you think.
Take time, look at all the possibilities.  Examine all the angles, find the
best avenue and take it.  When you do, commit to it, give it your entire
effort, and you will succeed.'

Sitting quietly he racked and stacked the options; running was out of the
question.  The Bears were faster than he was and could track him at night.
They had the natural territory advantage, night vision, and hell, they were
Bears; they are the natural Alpha Predators in this area.  It curious that
none of the town's people had seen these Bears.  His defensive options were
limited; distance, time, and terrain were all Matt had, unless he could
improvise something.  The compass and maps were lost somewhere in the
scuffle and most of the gear that was in his pack was now scattered on the
ground below.  He would have to wait till first light to move and make a
run down the mountain toward the campsite.  He had a general idea where it
was and what direction he had come.  It would be a descent down the
mountain; he would move better and faster on his way down than he had
during his ascent.  It wouldn't be the first time he had to run for his
life; humans were one thing, but Bears were the complete opposite side of
the spectrum. Defending himself against a Bear attack was something he was
NOT trained for, but he never backed down from a fight or a challenge. This
was definitely going to be an adventure.

The situation stood with the terrain and natural advantages going to the
Bears.  However, Matt was lucky and managed to sneak away.  It was odd, the
Bear still sat below the ledge as though waiting for Matt to come down;
this could not have been normal behavior.  The three Bears seemed to be
acting in a coordinated effort.  If this were true, Matt would have to
break that coordination and create an opportunity for action.  The larger
brown Bear and smaller dark Bear seemed to be the aggressors while the
white one acted as an observer.  It was either acting as over watch or
unskilled in this setting; in any case, that would be something Matt could
use.

It was time to dial up all the lessons his dad taught him, everything he
had learned in training, and in his travels.  He leaned back over the ledge
and saw the Bear again, still sitting looking up at him.  "Asshole!" he
yelled again over the side.  He needed some light and warmth.  He reached
over and grabbed a few small branches, some pieces of kindling and anything
else he could find that would burn.  On the right side of the ledge he
built a small fire. On the other side, he found some larger, thicker
branches; he shredded his already ripped up shirtsleeve from earlier to
fashion three torches and set them aside.  Then, he unearthed several
stones from the rock wall behind him.  Searching his pockets he found a few
lengths of parachute cord, a small bottle of hand sanitizer, rescue sugar
tabs, a power bar, a plastic wrapper from a sandwich he had several weeks
ago, and a small spool of fish line.  Not much with these odds but it would
have to do; Matt settled down to work.

He took the rocks he had found and chipped at one until it became a rough
square shape; he also cut branches from the trees above and using the
parachute cord he bound the branches together, lodging the square stone at
the top. He secured it all down with the parachute cord and ta-da! Now he
had a club. He didn't want to kill any of them, just get away.  His
defensive weapons were now plus one. He took several rescue tabs and
crushed them in the hand sanitizer.  "Look Mom, napalm," he chuckled and
worked it back into the bottle and placed it in his outside coat pocket.
This could be used as a sticky fire type weapon.  The sanitizer would catch
fast and the sugar would crystallize and stick to whatever it was on.
Sitting back Matt put more branches into the fire, and took the time to
rest his body and mind.  The adrenaline from earlier had passed and his
body was insisting that now was the time for rest.  He took out the power
bar, broke off a piece and chewed it slowly.  It was nasty and had been in
that pocket for a long time, but it was nourishment.  Then he popped
several rescue tabs to keep his sugar up.  With all the blood that he had
lost in the last exchange, the higher sugar levels would help him stay
focused, if only for a short time.  It would also help clear his head; the
release of insulin in the body was a natural anti-inflammatory that would
help with the pain. Looking up at the moon again, Matt made the decision to
move; to commit to his course of action, to take whatever outcome would be
dealt him.  He would move with purpose and clarity.

Leaning over the ledge again, he saw that big brown Bear just looking up at
him and licking its lips.  "Asshole," Matt cursed again.  Looking to his
right, he noticed that the ledge he was a lead up to a gentle climb to the
top of the outcrop.  Either the other Bears were waiting for him up top, or
they were in the woods waiting; either way it was time to speak his mind
before he moved.

Gathering his things, Matt stood on the edge of the ledge, looking down at
the big brown Bear below him.  He gathered his nerve, cleared his voice and
spoke to the Bear below, "I came to find you and your kind.  I followed the
crumb trail in the stories; I followed the trail here, to this place.  I
destroyed my life to find the truth.  So, when I arrive, this is how you
greet me; your kind tries to kill me.  You assholes!  I'm not looking to
expose you.  I want to join you!  I have searched my entire life for
something, for anything to fill the void in my heart.  I have tried to find
a people and a group to call my own.  I have a partner that I love dearly,
I could not bear to lose him, but I put everything I have on the line to
find you.  I have to find the end of the trail.  You know ... I'm out of
place with my own blood family. I traveled the world searching for that
closeness, the sense of family that I found in those stories.  I put the
clues together and now I'm here ... on this ledge. I'm about to fight for
my life and prove that I'm worthy.  If this is a test let me tell you, I'm
so going to kick your furry asses!"  Matt stopped, took a step back and
realized the other two Bears were just to the left of the larger Bear, just
at the edge of his sight.  "Good, stay there," Matt growled, his mind
lapsed into fight mode.

Matt gathered the last of his things; he stowed the club in his waist
strap, and put two of the torches in the rear pouch of the coat.  Lighting
the third, he stood up, turned, and kicked the fire down toward the big
Bear.  "Let's go asshole, come and get me," he yelled and started climbing.

From below, a mighty roar echoed up the rock face.  Matt climbed with
everything he had.  He reached the top, and eased himself up slowly. Not
seeing any Bears, he quickly got to his feet and made his way in the
direction of safety.  As he strode across the top of the outcrop, he found
a picnic table. He walked over to it and surveyed the area the best he
could. Distracted, his mind locked in a few more of the details. The table
had scratches in it, deep ones. It was sturdily built to withstand and
support a massive amount of weight.  The grass was grown up, so it had not
been used in some time.  A sound snapped him back to his surroundings.

The sound had come from behind him. Turning torch in hand ... the glint of
wild eyes caught his own. Damn they were fast. The large brown Bear walked
into the torchlight and stopped.  To its left the smaller white Bear and
dark colored Bear emerged.  Matt edged his way backward and bumped into a
fire ring.  He quickly glanced down into it; it was loaded with logs and
dried wood.  Taking the second torch, he lit it and then laid it inside the
fire ring.  The wood must have been totally dry since the fire took off
quickly and further illuminated the area.  As the area lit from the light
of the growing fire; he could better see the Bears.  The brown Bear was
massive.  The other two were smaller, but still formidable.  Matt swallowed
hard, taking in the situation and working out the possible angles for him
to escape.

He eased back behind the fire ring as the three Bears made their very slow
approach.  They spread out to a loose line, the big brown Bear in the lead,
the smaller white Bear in the center and the dark Bear on the far left.

`Standard fire-team pattern, what the hell was going on?'  From behind him
he heard a sound and spun around on his toes.  A black Bear was standing on
its hind legs almost on top of him; for the second time that day, a Bear
had got-the-drop on him.

"Crap," he muttered as it raised a paw high above him.

`Oh no you don't, I'm not that easy to kill.  You may have numbers but I
still have some tricks.'  He dropped backward and rolled over as the Bear
swiped at him. He lunged forward with the torch, the black Bear, now back
on all fours, turned its head to avoid the fire.  He swung forward his
other hand with the back of the stone club.  The weapon smashed into the
Bear, just behind its right ear.  The impact stunned and dropped the Bear
to the ground where it moaned and pawed at its head.

Matt wheeled around the fire pit as all three Bears started to advance
toward him.

With the fire in the ring burning brightly, Matt ditched the torch and took
out his blade.  It was time for some offense; he charged at the big brown
Bear knife in hand ready to strike. Matt had studied Bear combat tactics
and movements while he was gathering up the breadcrumbs from the stories.
From his study he learned that a running Bear had to stop and push off with
its front feet in order stand upright.  They could swipe with their front
paws while on all fours, but only as high as their head.  He needed to even
the odds and separate the Bears from each other so he could fight with
better odds and break up their coordinated effort.

As the Bear ran toward him, Matt ran for the picnic table.  As the two met,
he took a leap off the table and over the advancing Bear.  The big brown
Bear collided with the table and took it over toward the fire with it.  As
Matt landed, he could hear growls and grunts from the brown Bear as it
tangled itself in the upturned table.

The dark one charged forward next, but Matt kept the ledge on his right and
let the Bear close the distance. As it closed Matt tried to jump over the
smaller Bear, but it moved faster than him and smacked him out of the air.
He hit the ground hard, but swung his arm around with the stone club and
caught the Bear at the elbow of its forepaw.  It yelped in pain and
crumbled into a heap on the ground. Scrambling to his feet Matt grunted in
pain, and looked down to see the bottom of his coat shredded at his left
thigh and hip with some blood mixed in.  His waist pack was missing along
with the last torch, this was not going well.

He struggled to stay on his feet, turning just in time to see the big Bear
charging.  He kept the ledge at his back and with his club and knife ready,
he screamed and charged at the advancing Bear.  He only made it a few
meters before they met.  He attempted to slide under the massive Bear and
brought the club down as he slid, hitting the Bear in the muzzle. He sunk
the knife into its neck.  This stunned the Bear and it crumbled and tumbled
on top of and then over Matt.  As the Bear went over, its rear paw and
claws came down and into Matt's chest, shredding his jacket, clothes, and
skin.  Matt screamed as he was stomped into the ground.  The world
blurred...

Struggling to get up; Matt could see the shreds of his jacket and the blood
coming from them.  His vision was blurry and his right arm was not working,
instead it just hung by his side, twitching.  He still had the club in his
left hand and looked around, gasping for air.  The Bears were circling,
grunting at him.  The white one stopped and started walking toward him.
Growling and snapping at the others as it did so.  Matt's eyes met the eyes
of the white Bear.  "... Kermode," Matt whispered to the white Bear.  The
Bear seemed to glow in the moonlight and light from the fire.

Matt had given it everything he could muster, he brought all his energy to
the table; he had used all his skills to survive, but the outcome was
really never in question, it was written before the first scent of pine and
leather wafted by Matt's nose.  This was not a fair fight; four large Bears
against one loosely armed human.  As skilled as Matt was bears would always
be different than humans.  His body was just too weak to match the Bears in
a one-on-one fight.  He doubted if he had been armed that it would have
mattered the way they came after him.  Whatever the Bear's intentions, Matt
had nothing left.

As he stood watching the white Bear approach, the shivers started.  He knew
it was the blood leaving his body and the exertion, he knew he wouldn't be
conscious much longer.  He could see his breath in the air, coming in
rasps. Mustering the last of his strength, he stood as straight as he could
and spoke to the white Bear. "I meant you no harm by coming here.  I came
to join you ...  not harm you," his voice faded as he dropped the club,
dropped to his knees, and then to the ground.  The world went black.  He
could hear sounds of the Bears around him, grunts and growls, roars and
barks.  He was being sniffed, moved and then ... nothing.



Please feel free to contact me at housecubct@gmail.com.