The cub came loose with a crunching crack and a high-pitched cry. They rolled it onto the blanket, wrapped it quick, and hoisted it together. The bear growled—low, deep, guttural—but she didn’t advance. Not yet.
They backed toward the skiff, never turning their backs. The mother shadowed them along the ridge, eyes locked, pace matching theirs. “She’s deciding,” Henrik whispered. “Right now, she’s deciding who we are.” Elias slid into the boat first, then hauled the cub down beside him.