A wisp of smoke rose above the treetops. The wind carried its acrid scent, assaulting the noses of the nearby wildlife. Every creature was on high alert. With no storm clouds in sight, lightning couldn't have been the cause of the gray stain in the sky. That left only one possible culprit: humans.

Bernard's hackles had been raised since he had spotted the smoke while drinking from a stream. Between the possibility of running into other humans again and the dozens of creepy crawlies he had eaten that morning, his stomach was constantly churning. The countless worms, grubs, and assorted insects he had eaten had failed to quiet his growling stomach, yet his thoughts kept wandering back to the gaseous temptress that danced on the horizon.

How long had it been since he had last seen another human? It had been at least a few months, but he couldn't be sure of the exact length of time. It wasn't like he had a calendar handy. In any case, Bernard hadn't seen a single human since he had been taken away. Not that it bothered him too much. His mother had done her best to keep him away from other people for the majority of the transformation process.

It would be nice to spend some time around other people for a change instead of being stuck on his own though. The isolation was starting to get to him. Bernard could have sworn that he had started hearing the voice of the cub from his nightmares while he was awake. It never said much, but hearing the voice grumble about how humans had caused it nothing but pain was more than enough to make Bernard's fur stand on end. He longed to scream at it, to defend his father's memory, to blame the mother bear for what had happened.

He couldn't. As much as he hated what the mother bear had done to his father, knowing that she had only been trying to protect her children made it impossible to hate her for what she had done. Yet, he couldn't forgive her either. Every time he thought about her, he didn't see her as a bear but as the beast that had taken his father away from him.

Bernard silently reminded himself that even if he ignored the voice of the cub in his mind, he wasn't really alone out here. Other animals often broke his solitude. Today, a lone elk was quenching its thirst further downstream.

The elk's rack was so massive that Bernard wondered how its head could support the weight. Even with its head bowed, the elk looked majestic. No wonder hunters often pursued its kind. This particular elk's head would make for an impressive decoration mounted above a fireplace in a lodge.

This bull's antlers were a testament to its cautious nature. Sipping from the stream, it kept its eyes fastened on Bernard, watching the potential predator's every move.

As Bernard lifted his dripping muzzle from the stream, the elk huffed at him. It pawed the ground, carving indentations into the mud before leaping into the underbrush. Within moments, it had bounded out of sight. So much for the company.

Bernard sighed. There was no way around it. If he wanted to see other humans again, he would have to take a chance and track them down. He hoped they wouldn't run away from him too.

After slogging through the undergrowth for most of the day, stopping periodically to dig for grubs, Bernard finally neared the source of the smoke. Although the smoke itself had long since dissipated, it had left behind a potent tang that stung Bernard's nostrils. Around him, the forest was silent. Not a single bird chirped. Not a single rodent squeaked.

A distant booming noise broke the silence.

The sound faded as quickly as it came, leaving behind frayed nerves in its wake. With the ever-darkening sky almost ready to exhibit the stars, it was impossible to tell if any stray clouds had wandered overhead. Whatever had caused it, that noise left Bernard's ears ringing.

There was no turning back now. That noise had been too far away for its source to reach Bernard tonight. The scent that had led him here would be gone by morning. Without it, he would be out of luck. Just to be safe, Bernard peeked out of the undergrowth.

He was greeted by a campsite. A tent had been pitched too close to the campfire for comfort. The fire's remains were still smoldering, whispering threats of a potential forest fire. Bernard's father would have had a fit if he had seen this amateur set up. It was because of thoughtless campers like this one that dozens of animals had their lives go up in flames each year. Bernard pawed dirt over the embers.

The rest of the campsite was equally shameful. Granola bar wrappers lay scattered across the ground. Worse, there was no sign of a bear hang anywhere. Didn't this person know there were bears in the area? They sure were lucky that Bernard was the only bear who had come here so far. Other bears might have decided to eat all of the camper's food or to make a meal out of the camper. This idiot definitely needed to be taught a lesson. Maybe having some of his food eaten would teach this person to be more careful in the future.

After he followed his nose, Bernard's hunch that the person had left all of their food in the tent was proven correct. All of Bernard's favorite camping snacks were present: pretzels, chips, and, of course, marshmallows. Most of the stash was untouched, although there were stray crumbs scattered around the sleeping bag in the corner. No matter how much Bernard decided to leave behind, this was going to be quite a feast.

After selecting a bagful of barbecue-flavored chips from the snack stash, Bernard held it down with his paw. This wasn't going to be easy without hands. It was only fair that he would have to work for this meal though. He was technically stealing even though the camper had disobeyed one of camping's most important rules: don't leave your food where animals can reach it.

Gripping the corner of the bag between his teeth, Bernard pulled his head back. The plastic slipped from between his teeth right before the bag was ready to open. Bernard rolled his eyes. Why did these stupid things seem to hate him so much? Whether he was a human or a bear, he could never manage to open these things on his own. It was almost as if each and every one of these bags held a grudge against him for all of the junk food he had eaten over the years.

A half a dozen attempts later, the stubborn plastic still refused to cooperate. "Come on," Bernard said. "How am I supposed to get to the rest of this stuff tonight if you won't open?"

He was almost tempted to go pick a different bag. Maybe this one was defective or something. Whether it was out of stubbornness or pride, he decided to give it one last try. He repositioned the corner of his adversary underneath his paw before clamping his jaws around the opposite end. He jerked his head backward.

The bag burst open with a pop, sending a shower of chips over Bernard. A smoky smell flooded the air, clogging Bernard's nose. He licked up the chip fragments that had fallen around his mouth. Their familiar crunch and slightly salty taste were enough to remind him why he had never been able to resist chips before his transformation had started.

As much as Bernard craved a second helping of those chips, his time was limited. After gobbling down the bag he had opened, he set his sights on the bag of jumbo marshmallows. It was almost insultingly easy to open after the challenge the bag of chips had presented. All it took was a quick nip for the bag to split open. The sugary treats vanished within seconds. They were soon followed by a few packages of pretzel sticks and the crumbs around the camper's sleeping bag.

Satisfied that the camper would learn their lesson, Bernard left the scene of the crime. His lips were covered with a dusting of crumbs. The rest of the evidence, several torn open and emptied bags of food, would send a clear message to the camper. Maybe next time the food would be stashed away from the tent in a more suitable location. Otherwise, Bernard might take a second helping. That would be quite a shame. He wasn't sure if he'd be able to move much if he gorged himself too often.

Full to bursting, Bernard dragged himself away from the campsite. Belching all the way, he trudged on until his lethargy got the best of him. He wouldn't forget that junk food banquet anytime soon.