CARMEN
I flinched.
The sensation struck—tingling surged through my body. Were these sparks a sign of death's approach? Did every prey sense this before a predator clamped down, snuffing out their brief existence?
My eyes snapped open—And I froze.
The bear had leaned in close.
Too close.
Its massive tongue had just—licked me.
Not torn. Not bitten.
Licked.
My brain was officially short-circuiting.
“What the—?” The word came out as a broken breath.
I stared at it—at him. Somehow, that felt more accurate, more respectful. I had to stop calling my would-be murderer an it. As I stared, he simply stared back.
Those eyes.
They weren’t wild. They weren’t crazed, hungry, or violent like I expected.
They were focused. Familiar.
Intent, but still soft in that confusing, impossible way.
