He found himself whispering half-formed apologies to the wind, as though begging the Arctic for forgiveness. Every shift of the bear’s muscles, every flick of its ears, made him tense for an assault. Still, the animal did not lunge—did not even bare its teeth.
Nightfall crept in, hastened by thick, low-lying clouds. Nolan’s skin prickled with the sensation that he was trespassing in a realm where humans didn’t belong. He marveled at how the bear’s silhouette merged with the dark, making it appear almost spectral.