"How does it feel to be treated like a monster even though you did nothing wrong?" said the voice from Bernard's nightmares.

Darkness surrounded Bernard, pressing on him like a heavy blanket. He couldn't feel anything else, not even his own body.

"You're lucky they just put you to sleep," said the voice. "It's your father's fault that they did worse to my family."

Bernard awoke with a growl as sunlight shined through the boughs of the pine trees overhead. He yawned and rubbed the sleep from his eyes before hauling himself onto his paws. His legs trembled like tree branches in a storm, and his stomach quivered as he tried to stay on his feet. Bernard squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for his weakness and nausea to pass. Once he stopped feeling like a gentle breeze could knock him over, Bernard opened his eyes and began exploring his surroundings.

Every movement Bernard made took so much effort that it felt as if he was trying to move through honey instead of air. His thoughts felt equally slow. He couldn't put his finger on it, but something seemed off about these woods. There was something missing, something important. Bernard shook his head in an attempt to clear the fog from his mind.

A deep rumbling from his stomach brought his attention to another problem. Bernard sniffed the air, but he couldn't catch even a whiff of bacon. That was the problem. His mom hadn't started cooking his breakfast yet. Bernard glanced at the sky and groaned. The sun had already journeyed far above the horizon.

The smell of his mother's cooking usually woke Bernard up no matter how far he strayed from the house, especially when he was hungry, yet he had managed to sleep through half the day. A few years ago, he would have cheered if he had managed to sleep in this late. Now the extra hours of sleep reminded Bernard of the months he would spend hibernating. He shuddered at the thought. Would he still be himself once winter passed, or would the transformation progress further until his mind changed to match his body?

A gurgled protest from his stomach reminded Bernard that he had more urgent things to deal with. He would have plenty of time to worry about the future once he got his mom to make him breakfast. Hopefully, he could convince her to stop making such a fuss about cooking everything and give him a couple of raw eggs. A plateful of extra fatty bacon would be even better.

The mere thought of breakfast made Bernard's mouth water. "Mom, I'm hungry!" he yelled.

A guttural roar tore through the forest. Bernard looked around, trembling with his ears flat against his head. He waited for an attack that never came until a realization dawned on him.

"Was that me?" Bernard asked himself, eyes widening as his words came out as a strange huffing noise.

"Mom, help me!" The words came out as another roar. "Please..."

Bernard tried again and again to speak English until his voice was hoarse and his throat ached. The only noises he could force out were grunts, growls, and, eventually, whimpers. Finally, Bernard collapsed into a sobbing heap.

Bernard still understood himself when he spoke, but his own voice seemed strange to him. It sounded deep and rough, as if it belonged to a forty-year-old man instead of a kid. He could only imagine how other people would react if they heard him now.

Except they had reacted. Hazy recollections of the night before gradually returned to Bernard. His paws trembled as he remembered the ambush and the sudden pain of the tranquilizer dart. The rangers had come for him before he had discovered that he had lost his voice.

That didn't make sense. The rangers never did anything without a reason. They wouldn't have come to take him unless someone had told them he was causing trouble. But who would have told them about him? His mom had homeschooled him since his nails had started lengthening into what would eventually become claws, so it wasn't as if anyone besides his mom knew what he had become.

Bernard rested his head on his paws and began to piece together the events that had happened before he lost his voice.

Dinner had tasted funny the night before, no doubt because of that horrible smelling herb his mother had used. She had barely said anything about the herb. It wasn't like her not to ramble on and on about the new ingredients she was experimenting with. In fact, she had never neglected to tell him the name of any new herbs or spices she was trying out before. If that wasn't suspicious, then Bernard didn't know what was.

That strange smelling herb must have been the reason he had been so sleepy after dinner. The rangers had shown up almost immediately afterward. He couldn't remember much of what had happened after that.

After connecting the dots, Bernard snarled. His mother had planned this. His traitorous, uncaring, unloving mother had planned this. How could she do this to him?

Bernard stalked over to the nearest pine tree and slashed its trunk with his claws. They left long gashes in the bark, yet the stoic tree did not react. It was as unemotional as his mother. Bernard bellowed at the wooden scapegoat before pummeling it with all of his strength. He was just a kid, a scared ten-year-old who was as confused about his transformation as everyone else. Why was everyone treating him like it was his fault, like he had wanted to turn into a monster?

Bernard took his frustration out on the unfortunate tree until he was gasping for breath. His claws ached, sending waves of pain through his front paws. The tree was in even worse shape. Much of its bark had been peeled away, exposing a pulpy layer.

Despite his outburst, Bernard didn't feel any better. In fact, he felt worse. His anger and frustration had been joined by fear. Nobody would bring him food, check his fur for parasites, or give him a dry place to stay when it rained ever again. He was alone.

For the second time in his life, Bernard felt completely and utterly lost. Thinking about his father was enough to make him bury his muzzle beneath his paws.

His father's funeral had been haunting his nightmares since the day it had been held. The nightmares had become increasingly frequent as Bernard's transformation progressed until he had begun reliving the event on a nightly basis. The strange whispers that invaded his nightmares had continued to grow louder and louder each night until he could barely hear the funeral itself.

The solemnity of the funeral had been too much for the then eight-year-old boy to handle. The mass of mourners clothed in black had made him feel as if he was being swallowed by a sea of grief. He hadn't been able to stay quiet and had sobbed into his mother's arms as she held him close, rubbing his back. His one and only dad was gone forever.

Now Bernard had lost his mother too. The only difference in his eyes was that she had willingly left him.

Lifting his head, Bernard examined the destruction he had caused. Before the attack, the pine tree had looked strong, noble even, as it towered over him. Now it was a grim sight to behold. Although it still stood tall, the tree had gained dozens of gashes that exposed its more tender insides.

"Sorry," Bernard whispered to the innocent pine. It looked exactly as devastated as he felt. Bernard examined the pads of his guilty paws. They were completely covered by sap that had dried onto them like super glue. There was only one way Bernard could explore his surroundings without having his front paws stick to everything he stepped on for the rest of the day.

Looking both of his front paws over, Bernard decided to start with his right one since it seemed dirtier than its partner in crime. He ran his tongue over his paw. The sap tasted surprisingly nice, almost like rock candy.

Bernard cleaned his paws much more eagerly than he had ever washed his hands. Disappointed to find all the sweet stuff gone before he got the chance to truly savor it, Bernard turned his attention back to the tree. It was already pretty beaten up. Surely it wouldn't mind a few more scratches.

Several minutes later, the pine tree sported dozens of fresh marks. Bernard gleefully licked up the sap until an orange crust of dried sap formed around his mouth. He decided that he had better go find some real food before coming back for dessert. Bernard put his tongue back into his mouth only to become incredibly uncomfortable. His tongue was covered in so much residue that it stuck to the roof of his mouth.

He frantically tried to detach his tongue, but it wouldn't budge. This was worse than the time he had devoured an entire jar of peanut butter in one sitting. He kept going at it until his tongue finally came free. He scraped the remaining sap off of his tongue and fur with a claw. Rule one of life in the woods: don't eat sap.

With that sticky situation over with, Bernard searched through the undergrowth for something to quiet his grumbling belly. He had managed to get some experience both hunting and foraging before he was taken away. Foraging was definitely his preferred method even though it usually took him a while to satisfy his appetite.

Berries were always a pleasure to find since wild ones possessed a certain sweetness that the ones at the grocery store almost always lacked. Mushrooms, or at least the nonpoisonous ones, had an earthy flavor and were surprisingly filling despite their small size. Nuts were Bernard's favorite part of nature's bounty though. Once you got past their tough exteriors, they rewarded you with the amazingly tasty meat inside them. He had spent countless hours tracking down every last morsel of food that had grown near his house.

Bernard had spent much less time hunting. While he had foraged every night for at least a year, he had only ever hunted once. After one particularly disgusting dinner about a week ago, Bernard had stumbled upon a fawn in the underbrush during his search for more suitable food. He had been especially hungry since he had only managed to force down a mouthful or two of the plateful of broccoli and slightly overcooked liver that his mother had prepared for him.

Before he had realized what he was doing, the young bear had snapped the fawn's neck. The funny thing was that he couldn't remember the exact moment he had killed it. He had been struggling to ignore his empty stomach when the whispers from his nightmares had invaded his thoughts. Then, he had blacked out.

The scent of blood had snapped him out of his hunger-induced trance, but he had already started eating the fawn by then.

He still had no idea what had gotten into him that night. The look on his mother's face when he had returned home with blood on his muzzle had been more than enough to convince Bernard that he would never stoop to that level again if he could help it.

By sunset, Bernard had only managed to find one thing to eat: pinecones, lots and lots of pinecones. The sound of them crunching between his teeth was satisfying. and their addictiveness vaguely reminded him of potato chips. He couldn't resist shoveling down dozens of them despite the way they scratched his throat. The few puddles he managed to track down eased the pain they caused.

Thankfully, pinecones were especially plentiful this time of year. If nothing else, Bernard wouldn't starve to death. Still, as his mom always said, he really needed some variety in his diet. He couldn't live the rest of his life eating nothing but pinecones, especially since he would need to fatten up before it was time to hibernate.

With his stomach full and finally silent, Bernard had no reason to search for more food for the time being. What he really needed was a water source. He wasn't quite thirsty yet thanks to the puddles he had found, but he knew that he would need a constant source of water eventually. A river, a pond, or even a brook would do. It would be especially nice if Bernard could find a body of water with fish in it.

Animals like deer made him feel guilty when he thought about hunting them because of their eyes. They always looked so helpless and scared whenever they saw him. He couldn't kill something like that without a guilty conscience. In contrast, fish seemed emotionless to him. He could kill those scrumptious little morsels without any regret whatsoever, assuming he actually learned how to fish.

That settled it. Tomorrow, Bernard would search for a water source and hopefully get a sense of where the rangers had dumped him. Tonight, all he wanted to do was rest after his first day on his own.