My bear huffs in confirmation.
“Like, actually get on your back and ride you through the forest?”
Another huff.
“That’s insane.” But she’s grinning, her whole face open with excitement. “That’s absolutely insane and I’m definitely doing it.”
She approaches his side, studying the logistics. He’s huge. His back is level with her collarbone even lying down. But he’s made himself as low as possible, and after a moment she finds her footing.
Her leg swings over his back. Her thighs grip his sides. Her fingers tangle in the thick fur at his neck.
“Oh my God.” She’s breathless, half-laughing. “This is actually happening. I’m sitting on a bear.”
My bear rises slowly, carefully, making sure she’s secure. She squeaks and grips him harder, her body pressing against his back.
“Okay,” she says. “Okay, I’m good. I’m totally good. This is fine. Everything is fine.”
My bear turns his head to look at her, making sure she’s ready.
She meets his golden eyes and grins. “Let’s go, big guy.”
My bear takes off.
Not too fast at first. He doesn’t want to throw her. But once he feels her settle into the rhythm, her body moving with his, he picks up speed.
The forest opens up around us as my bear runs, his massive paws eating up the ground with easy, loping strides. Powder sprays behind him with each step. The trees loom on either side, their branches heavy with fresh snow—nothing but the soft thump of his paws and her breathing.
She laughs.
The sound rings through the quiet forest, bouncing off the trees. My bear pushes faster, weaving between the thick trunks of old pines, ducking under low branches, leaping over a fallen log just to feel her clutch him and hear her squeal.
“Show off!” she yells, but she’s laughing when she says it.
He is showing off. He can’t help it. Our mate is on our back, her thighs warm against his sides, her fingers buried in his fur, and he wants to impress her. Wants to show her what we can do.
The forest floor dips and my bear follows it, racing down into a shallow gully where a frozen stream cuts through the snow. Ice glitters under the sun, and he slows so she can see it, the way the light catches and fractures into tiny rainbows along the surface.
“It’s beautiful,” she breathes, her cheek pressed against his fur. “Tolin, it’s so beautiful.”
My bear rumbles in agreement and keeps moving.
He takes her deeper into the territory, through groves of birch trees with white bark peeling like paper, past boulders that jut up from the snow like sleeping giants. A hawk circles overhead and she tips her head back to watch it, her grip loosening as she relaxes into the ride.
She trusts us. She’s not afraid anymore.
My bear runs along a ridge where the trees thin out and the whole valley spreads below us. Smoke rises from chimneys in the distance, the clan’s territory nestled in the valley. The mountains stretch out on all sides, white peaks sharp against the blue sky. She gasps when she sees it.
“I can see everything from up here,” she whispers. “The whole world.”
My bear slows to a walk, letting her take it in. She strokes his fur absently, her fingers working through the thick coat, and he practically melts under her touch.
“Thank you for showing me this.” Her voice is quiet, reverent. “Thank you for trusting me with this part of you.”
If I could speak, I’d tell her she can have every part of me. That I’d carve out my own heart and hand it to her if she asked.
My bear just rumbles softly, pressing back against her touch.
We stay there for a while, looking out over the white landscape. The sun climbs higher, warming our backs. A light wind stirs the snow off the branches, sending it drifting down like glitter. She’s quiet, but it’s a good quiet. A peaceful quiet.
