Bernard jumped to his paws at the sound of a vaguely scream like noise in the distance.

He flattened his ears against his head, but the noise stopped as abruptly as it began. In the silence that followed, his hackles rose.

Try as he might, Bernard could not detect any unusual smells that could hint at the source of the noise. Aside from a mouse that darted into a bush faster than he could blink, none of the other animals seemed particularly bothered. For all he knew, even the mouse might not have cared about the noise. After all, he'd run too if he saw a bear.

"Great, now I'm hallucinating," Bernard said, shaking his head. "Either that or those stupid nightmares woke me up again." No matter how hard he tried to convince himself to forget about the noise, his fur refused to lay flat, and he kept glancing over his shoulder.

To ease his thirst and distract himself from his fear, Bernard lapped up dew from the grass around him. The ice-cold droplets soothed his parched tongue, but they were gone all too soon. With the edge taken off of his thirst, Bernard began his quest for a more reliable water source.

His sense of smell was powerful enough to make bloodhounds jealous, but the other scents in the forest made it difficult for him to tell if there was water nearby. The forest contained dozens of potent smells that could easily mask the subtle scent of water. Unless he caught the scent of some animals commonly found near water, Bernard would have to rely on his other senses to find it.

If he was lucky, he might hear the soft murmur of water flowing over rocks. That would only help him find running water though. He would have to rely on luck to stumble upon a lake or any other standing bodies of water.

As Bernard trekked through the forest, squirrels chattered in the trees around him. It was hard to tell if they were annoyed by his presence or if they were worried about the onset of winter. Either way, Bernard quickly understood why his dad had insisted on calling an exterminator when a family of squirrels had made a nest in the attic.

In an attempt to block out their frantic chittering, he tried to focus on the chirping of the local birds. His father had taught him how to identify birds based on their calls, so he was able to figure out that some of the birds nearby were species that only lived in Alaska. He didn't know enough about them to be able to tell which region of Alaska he was in, but it was a relief to know that the rangers had left him where his dad's lessons about the state's edible plants would still be useful. The birds also assured Bernard that there must be water nearby since the wildlife was so plentiful.

Pine needles rained down on Bernard as a squirrel chased after one of its brethren who had a pinecone in its mouth. Bernard shook the needles off of his broad shoulders with a huff. It wouldn't be worth his time to chase after those pesky creatures. Gritting his teeth as the racket overhead intensified, Bernard seriously considered stuffing his ears with leaves. He resolved to raid the squirrels' winter stashes if he got the chance instead.

After what felt like a lifetime's worth of noises assaulted Bernard's ears, everything became eerily quiet. Each step Bernard took sounded like a miniature explosion in the otherwise silent forest. He sighed in relief. "Good riddance," he muttered to himself. Since there wasn't much to hear, he could focus on his other senses. He hoped he could catch a whiff of a beaver or some ducks. As limited as Bernard's knowledge of the area was, even he knew that smelling one of those animals might as well be a guarantee that there would be water nearby.

A pungent odor flooded Bernard's nose soon after the forest fell silent, making him gag. The smell only grew stronger as he ventured further into the woods. The air felt weighed down by its presence. A sudden urge to turn back and run away hit Bernard as a headache began to throb at the back of his skull. His hackles rose as a primal fear surged through his body.

This newfound instinct sent a sudden burst of energy into Bernard's legs, and his paws trembled. His breathing came in short gasps as his heart hammered in his chest. He would have heeded this inexplicable warning if it weren't for one tantalizing detail that was almost completely hidden by the powerful scent: the smell of meat was wafting from deeper within the pungent smelling area.

Saliva filled Bernard's mouth as he imagined the succulent taste of the potential meal. Ignoring his better judgment and the urge to flee to a place where he could sleep off his headache, he followed his nose toward the source of the scent. Imagining tender chunks of meat separating from bone was enough to make his stomach growl.

Now that he had to provide for himself, Bernard couldn't afford to ignore any opportunities that presented themselves to him. His mother certainly wasn't going to materialize from the undergrowth to present him a plateful of chocolate chip cookies fresh from the oven.

Bernard's dedication to tracking down the source of the alluring scent was soon rewarded. A deer carcass lay spread out over a thick bed of pine needles. It hadn't begun to rot yet, but it most certainly was not fresh. Chunks of flesh had already been torn away. In some places, yellowish white bones stood out with only the tiniest specks of meat still clinging to them.

Finally in front of the delicious smelling meal, Bernard hesitated. Seeing the deer's bones exposed sent chills down his spine. Although he had killed a fawn before, he couldn't remember what its body had looked like after he had killed it. He hoped he never would. Bernard struggled to suppress a wave of nausea as he thought about the carnage he might have created. The look on his mother's face when he had strolled into the house with a crimson stain around his mouth had told him everything he needed to know about how horrific the aftermath had been.

Bernard forced himself to take a series of deep breaths as he waited for his stomach to stop tossing and turning. This kill was not his. He was not to blame for this violence.

Once his stomach finally calmed down, Bernard bent down and sniffed the kill. Judging from how little meat remained in the creature's ribcage, most of the best parts had been eaten already. Oh well, at least this would break the monotony of eating pinecones for every meal. As sickening as the thought was, the creature's blood might sate his thirst to some extent too.

Holding the carcass with his front paws, Bernard sunk his teeth into the deer's shoulder. The meat was somewhat dry and stringy, but the taste of it still made his stomach resume its grumbling. The deer's eyes stared up at him accusingly as he tore at its dead body. They were soon covered by a paw.

Bernard pulled his head back, ripping away a sizable piece of the doe's shoulder. He swallowed it in a quick gulp. The meat was no longer warm, yet it still made a pleasant meal. Drops of blood landed on Bernard's muzzle as he tore into the meat. He licked his lips in anticipation of what remained of the deer's more tender parts. Forget about table manners. Those could wait until he had eaten his fill.

Strips of raw venison flew down Bernard's throat as he gulped it down. Its gamey taste amplified his cravings for flesh as he feasted. Now this was a meal fit for a bear!

The midday sun's rays caressed the hump of Bernard's back as he wolfed down pound after pound of the most delicious meal he had eaten in years. He tore away at the carcass as his stomach gradually filled up, exposing more and more bones until most of the doe's skeleton was visible. Pinecones were as tasteless as rice in comparison to this feast. The meat's juices flooded over Bernard's tongue until the sinister stench that had initially masked smell of the kill drifted into his nostrils.

Bernard let the doe's leg drop from his jaws as he sniffed the air. The odor was so strong that he could barely smell the meat in front of him, and his headache kept getting worse until it felt as if someone was pummeling the back of his head. Unable to tell where the stench was coming from or why his head hurt so much, Bernard bent over the deer once more and resumed his meal.

Moments later, a growl interrupted Bernard's meal. A massive shape blocked the sun's rays as it walked closer to him.

Bernard slowly raised his eyes to meet the gaze of the snarling bear in front of him. He was easily twice Bernard's size with yellow fangs and light brown fur. The bear's breath smelled like rotting meat, and dried blood left crimson stains between his claws.

Fear shot through Bernard like a wildfire through dry grass as he watched the approaching bear. He let a chunk of meat from the deer's haunches drop from his jaws as he backed away from the carcass and licked away the incriminating blood that surrounded his mouth.

"What are you doing with my kill, you overgrown chipmunk?" The massive male bared his teeth as he approached Bernard with his muscles rippling beneath his fur.

The older male didn't speak in the same way that humans spoke, yet his message was still perfectly clear. Bernard's senses were assaulted with a variety of signals that all screamed the same thing: he was not wanted here.

As if the beast's exposed fangs and bristling fur weren't enough, a thunderous growl rumbled from its mouth. It even smelled angry, as strange as that concept was to Bernard. There was something about the pungent odor that was radiating from it that sent chills down Bernard's spine. He felt as if the scent was choking him as it flooded his nostrils like an invisible wave of smoke.

"Answer me!" A massive paw slapped the ground.

Bernard trembled wordlessly, unable to look away from the dried blood stuck between the other bear's claws.

The larger bear snarled. "I'll beat the answer out of you!" it bellowed as it charged at Bernard, jaws wide.