Dark gray clouds covered the sky, ready to drench the forest as they shrouded the world in darkness. Unborn thunder and lightning threatened to break loose as the downpour's beginning drew closer.

Wind raced through branches, shaking leaves free for a brief dance before the storm. It sang an ode to spring as it rushed past Bernard, tousling his fur. The bloated bear staggered to his paws as his stomach swayed beneath him. He was tempted to flop back down and sleep for a few more hours, but a thunderous growl from the sky convinced him to get moving. His upset stomach was unpleasant enough without having to deal with having his fur soaked through. Bernard shuddered as his stomach churned.

He stood still and waited for his nausea to pass. The barbecue chips were determined to get their revenge for being eaten. Their taste filled Bernard's mouth as their remains fought to work their way back up his throat. Bernard clamped his jaws shut and pointed his mouth away from the rest of his body. At least he didn't need to worry about making a mad dash for the nearest bathroom out here.

The chips retreated back into Bernard's stomach, sending up a belch in their place. Their scent flooded the air, overpowering everything from the ever-present pine smell to the fragrances of the wildflowers. So this was why his mother had never let him pig out on junk food.

"Bring on the broccoli," Bernard grumbled, forcing himself to smile. That stuff tasted about as good as his shoes had smelled, but at least it hadn't made him sick. At this rate, even a plateful of liver and spinach would be more appetizing than another potato chip. Another burp forced its way out. Bernard felt as if he was stuck in a cartoon. It was only a matter of time before birds started dropping out of the sky because of the stench.

As if on cue, a goose plummeted out of formation after a boom sounded in the distance. Its brethren scattered, honking in terror as they fled the scene. The air was filled with a cacophony of panic before silence replaced it. Watching the distant speck plummet, bile rose up Bernard's throat once again. He barely managed to push it back down.

There was no denying what had killed that goose. At least one hunter lurked in the forest. If his father's stories about the groups of poachers he had tracked down over the years were any indication, there could easily be more than one. There was no way to be sure, but Bernard was certain that he had to get out of the area.

Icy tendrils of fear raced up Bernard's spine. He barreled through the undergrowth, paying no heed to the branches that tore at his fur. If the hunter found him, they would turn him into a rug for their den or mount his head on a wall. Whether or not the hunter had set out to kill a grizzly, chances are they wouldn't hesitate to shoot him. He couldn't blame them if they did. He had seen first hand what the other members of his species were capable of.

"Run!" the voice from his nightmares screamed into Bernard's thoughts.

Bernard stumbled to a halt, trembling as terror surged through him. A sense of urgency pounded through his head, threatening to split his skull open if he stayed put, yet he could not will his legs to move. His breath came in short gasps as the dying screams of the mother bear echoed in his mind. Visions of her corpse flashed before his eyes.

"Don't just stand there. Move!" Darkness crept into the edges of Bernard's vision as the volume of the dead cub's pleading increased.

The paralyzing terror that had frozen Bernard's body in place was chased away by a surge of adrenaline. He shook his head, clearing the cub's memories from his mind. The darkness eased back out of his vision as he steadied his breathing.

A raindrop splashed onto Bernard's nose. Others slapped his shoulders and back as the storm began. With his upset stomach forgotten, Bernard dashed through the rain. The wind and water whipping his fur were little more than nuisances at this point. The same went for the mud that jammed itself between his toes as he ran.

The shower pummeled Bernard. Thunder snarled at him, and claws of lightning ripped through the sky. Tree branches flailed in the wind, creaking as gusts threatened to rip them from their trunks.

As Bernard ventured deeper into the woods, aged pines towered over him. They stretched their needle-covered arms wide, shielding the animals below them from the storm and reducing the torrent of rain to a steady drizzle.

Droplets dispersed as Bernard shook himself. His fur clung to him despite his best efforts to make it stand properly. Raindrops leaked through the branches and landed on Bernard's face, leaving trails of moisture as they trickled to his chin. A chill snuggled up against his bones as the warmth fled his muscles. He shivered.

The voice in his head went into hysterics. Bernard could barely understand any of the cub's high-pitched screams. The only coherent thing Bernard could make out was a single wail.

"He's coming!"

Twigs snapped as a gust of wind tore through the pines. Bernard could have sworn he heard a rock shift, too. It was a wonder he could make out anything over the noise in his head.

The cub was almost hyperventilating now, reduced to a whimpering mess. Bernard could barely hear himself think over its sobbing. All of this constant noise was making his hackles rise.

"Take it easy," said Bernard in an attempt to calm the cub down. "Nothing is going to hurt us. There's no need to worry."

The voice cried out so loudly that Bernard thought his ears would start bleeding even though the sound was only in his head. The noise bounced around in his skull, growing in intensity. The thunder booming overhead was almost a relief. It was the only thing loud enough to drive the awful noise out of his head momentarily.

The cub abruptly stopped screaming. Only its constant whimpering remained. At least that horrible racket was over.

Before Bernard could settle down and wait out the downpour in peace, a metallic click sounded behind him.