Her chest rose and fell like a bellows, but she made no move toward them. Elias didn’t blink. “We move slow. Nothing sudden.” They stepped carefully onto the ice, rope in hand. The wind ripped past them now, slicing through their layers and howling between the ridges like a warning.
The mother bear let out a low, guttural rumble—more of a vibration than a sound—but didn’t advance. They saw the cub up close now—wedged between two jagged ice slabs, one leg bent, eyes barely open. Its breaths came fast and shallow.