An hour later…
The forest is finally quiet. No soldiers. No voices. Just the slow rustle of wind through the leaves.
A single groan breaks the silence.
Mirko twitched where he lay, face buried half in dirt, half in crushed grass. His eyelids fluttered, heavy as stone. When he finally forced them open, a white-hot stab of pain shot through his shoulder.
"Ah—!"
His hand instinctively reached for the wound, but stopped halfway… because something warm and wet was breathing over him.
His blurred vision sharpened.
Two huge, glowing red eyes stared back at him.
Mirko froze. His breath caught in his throat.
A massive shadow crouched above him—broad shoulders, thick fur, claws that could end him in a second.
The bear.
The same one he had shot the other day.
His heart hammered so loud he swore it shook the ground. He tried to move—crawl, roll, anything—but his limbs refused. Panic locked every muscle in place.
The bear huffed, steam leaving its nostrils. Instead of lunging… it leaned closer.
Its massive tongue pressed gently against Mirko's bleeding shoulder.
Mirko gasped.
He thought he was hallucinating. He had to be. Bears didn't do this.
He squeezed his eyes shut, shaking uncontrollably… but after several seconds, he realized—
It still hadn't attacked him.
It was treating his wound. Cleaning the blood.
Mirko slowly opened his eyes again. The bear's gaze was different now—soft, tired, almost… cautious.
"…Why aren't you killing me?" he whispered, voice trembling.
The bear stepped back slightly, as if giving him space. It wasn't cornering him. It wasn't growling. It was simply watching him… like it somehow remembered him.
Mirko swallowed hard and pushed himself up, wincing as pain tore through his shoulder. His legs were shaking so badly he had to grab onto a fallen branch to steady himself.
The bear rose too—towering over him.
Mirko stumbled back, falling onto his elbows, terrified again. But the bear only tilted its head, as though confused why the tiny human was making such a fuss.
A moment passed.
A silent, strange understanding settled between them.
"You saved me…? Why?" Mirko whispered, tears forming again from fear, pain, confusion—everything.
The bear grunted softly, then turned around.
It walked a few steps… stopped… and looked over its shoulder at him.
Mirko blinked.
"…You want me to follow you?"
The bear didn't move. Didn't threaten. Just waited.
Mirko looked around the empty forest—the cold creeping in, the blood loss making him dizzy. The soldiers were far… his friends even farther.
He didn't really have a choice.
He grabbed the broken branch like a walking stick, pushed himself fully to his feet, and swallowed the fear sitting in his throat.
"Okay… okay. I'll go."
The bear rumbled low, almost approvingly, and began walking deeper into the forest.
Mirko followed—limping, exhausted, but alive,guided by the very creature he once feared would kill him.
..
After what felt like thirty… maybe forty minutes of stumbling through trees, rocks, and uneven ground—Mirko barely keeping himself upright—the bear finally slowed.
They reached a massive cave entrance, half-hidden by hanging vines and thick moss. A cold breeze drifted out from the darkness inside.
Mirko stared at it with exhausted eyes.
"That must be where you live…?" he whispered, voice weak.
The bear didn't answer, of course. It just walked forward, glancing back once as if checking if he was still alive enough to follow.
Mirko dragged himself inside.
The cave was bigger than it looked—wide, dark, with walls that curved upward like a natural dome. The air smelled of earth and old rain. Mirko's knees gave out as soon as he stepped fully inside, and he crouched down, pressing a hand over his wounded shoulder.
"Hhh—" he hissed in pain.
The bear moved to the center of the cave and flopped down with a heavy thud, fur rippling with the motion. It watched him… quietly.
Mirko swallowed hard.
"Uh… okay. Thanks for—showing me your house, I guess."
His voice cracked. He felt ridiculous talking to an animal, but the silence somehow demanded answers.
"I have to go," he continued softly. "My friends… they were taken. I need to see if they're still there..
He pointed shakily toward the entrance—a dark hole that seemed miles away now.
The last word barely escaped his mouth, more breath than sound:
"…taken."
He braced his hand against the wall and tried to stand. His legs trembled violently. Still, he forced himself up, teeth grinding.
The bear's head lifted immediately.
Mirko limped toward the exit.
A deep rumble rolled through the cave.
Not angry… but uneasy.
Mirko froze and slowly looked back.
The bear was half-standing now, staring at him with something between confusion and concern. Its claws scraped lightly against stone. It took a step forward.
Mirko raised a hand, breathing hard.
"It's okay… I'm just leaving. I-I have to."
The bear's ears flattened. Another low sound vibrated through its chest—hesitant, almost pleading.
Mirko's throat tightened.
"Don't… don't look at me like that," he muttered, voice shaking. "I need to go. They're all I have."
He turned again and took another painful step.
The bear shuffled forward sharply—its huge shadow stretching toward him.
Mirko flinched, heart racing.
But the bear didn't attack.
It simply stopped a few feet away… staring… refusing to lie back down.
Mirko exhaled shakily.
"You're… worried? Is that it?"
The bear blinked once. A slow, heavy blink.
Mirko let out a weak, sad laugh.
"This is so stupid… talking like you understand me."
He forced himself forward anyway, every movement sending pain shooting through his arm.
The bear followed him to the mouth of the cave but didn't cross the line where light meets shadow.
Mirko looked back one last time.
The bear stood there… massive, silent… eyes glowing faintly in the dimness. Not attacking. Not blocking him.
Just watching him leave.
Mirko nodded softly.
"Thank you… for saving my life."
Then he stepped outside—limping, swaying—but determined to get back to his friends.
The forest swallowed him again.
The bear remained at the entrance…
watching until his figure disappeared into the trees.