But just as he started thinking of turning back, convinced that the entire ordeal was madness, he spotted a faint glow. Firelight shimmered against the darkness, revealing forms huddled near a makeshift shelter. His chest tightened. Humans—poachers, most likely—were encamped here.
He crouched low, the wind carrying muffled voices to his ears. He recognized the snap of rifles, the clink of metal traps. This was no friendly gathering. His throat constricted. The bear advanced, letting out a low growl that mirrored his sense of dread.