His stomach rumbled, “It must be spring,” he thought to himself. A look outside the cave entrance confirmed his suspicions. While many of the awakened worked through the winter, he still subscribed to the old ways. Winter was for sleeping.
He stretched his limbs. His claws grazed against the cave walls. Was his cave getting smaller? This cave had seemed so impossibly large to him in his younger days. But that had been a long ago. He remained here long after other bears would have moved out in search of a bigger place. He was a creature of habit. He didn’t do well with change.
He had lived most of his life in this cave. He had found it as a cub. Later, when he had grown old enough to move out on his own, he had come back to it. His mother and father were of the Wild. He had already grown to adulthood by the time he met an awakened animal to know that he was awakened too.
Shortly after that encounter, he had tried living in Pelarian society, but it didn’t take. He knew almost at once that he didn’t belong. He was too set in his ways to deal with the hustle and bustle. He was much more at ease alone in his cave. Occasionally, he would venture back to Vawsing for some of the creature comforts he had come to know during his short stay. The terrified looks he received when he walked into town only seemed to confirm to him that he had made the right choice to stay away.
He was enormous, even for a bear, and fierce-looking. He used his appearance to his advantage. The smaller animals preferred to keep their distance and he liked it that way. When negotiating with the merchants in Vawsing, it only took a flash of his fangs and he would get a very liberal discount. Other furs didn’t like to mess with bears. Bears were strong and he was exceptionally so. He could cause a lot of destruction if he were so inclined. It had never come to that before though. So long as the other animals left him alone, he was fine. Occasionally, he’d overhear some disturbance nearby and step in. His emergence would normally settle things quickly enough. He rarely had to resort to physical means.
His stomach rumbled again as he recalled all these things. “Best find something to eat,” he said out loud, though no one was there to hear.
He had barely made it two steps out of his cave when he heard the yelping, “Sounds like a young possum,” he thought to himself. The growling which followed was unmistakable, “Wolves!”
He didn’t much like wolves in his territory but for the most part he tolerated their presence. Pelarian society was expanding and pushing the Wild back all the time. The Wild had a right to live too. Still, wolves needed to be kept in check, lest they forget they were guests in his territory, and not the other way around.