Greenland, 15th century

I'm hungry. So hungry. The ravenous sensation consumes me, turning everything else into a blur. I don't care who I am or where I am, as long as I get to eat. I need to crush bones between my teeth and have blood seep down my throat.

An unsuspecting rabbit would suffice, or perhaps a lounging seal.

My heavy body heaves as I rise, shaking off pine needles and dirt from white fur. I take a few shaky steps, feeling uncertain about how to even walk on unwieldy limbs. Did I always walk like this? The furry legs with big paws, that sink down into the soft moss below, look unfamiliar as I gaze down. In fact, the gaze itself seems odd, like my eyes don't see the world like they used to, but I can't pinpoint exactly what the difference is.

The confusion scatters as a familiar scent reaches my nose. Sweet and heavy, the scent of blood is all around me. Smears are streaked across the fur on my chest. The smell dances in the air, making me see nothing but red and stirring something inside of me: a feral desire to vanquish whatever comes my way.

Drops of red taint the moss. I sniff the residual tracks, eagerly following the trail toward something that may still my all-consuming hunger.

All I find is a bloody dagger, abandoned among the brush. I lick the blade for a taste. Perhaps that will quell the rising urge to kill for just a moment. At least long enough to think.

My thoughts are scrambled. I know nothing anymore. Everything feels wrong. This isn't who I am. But I also can't remember who I should be.

My eyes, which still don't seem quite right, scour the clearing around me for clues. Why am I here?

Bluebells.

I see bluebells growing in the moss. Wilted but still standing, the blue color turning toward purple.

I remember the bluebells. Bluebells in red hair. A hand stroking against a soft cheek. That's who I was.

But now, I'm someone else. I can sense the difference, but I can't fully separate the beings from each other.

I am Björn, that's all I know. A creature on an icy shore, struggling against the elements to survive. That's who I will always be.

After finding nothing in the clearing, I wander the lands, hungry and confused. Every movement in the brush tingles my senses. Perhaps it will be something I can hunt down and eat. Nothing else seems important right now.

But I find no prey to still my immense hunger.

My limbs are tired and my brain is exhausted from constantly being on high alert without proper nourishment. I need to lie down. I need to sleep, perhaps for the whole oncoming winter. Feral instincts tell me that's the way of my kind. Eating and then sleeping until sunlight once again shines over icy shores.

I can't start my long slumber just yet, as I need to bulk up my thin body beforehand. But I can rest for a few hours, to be fit to continue my hunt for food. The overwhelming change of my nature has made me weary. A respite from the near-constant sunlight will probably do me good.

My legs must have been thinking the same thing because I find myself standing in front of an opening in the rugged cliffs. A deep cave, big enough to shelter my massive body from the sun above.

A hint of a memory emerges as I walk toward the entrance. Children laughing and running. A girl with a bluebell in her hair takes shelter together with a blushing boy. Their lips press together in a chaste kiss. Outside, a girl with hair so dark it shimmers in blue dances with a boy who can't take his eyes off her, as the sun hovers high all night.

Maybe I've been here before. Maybe I was one of them. Maybe I used to laugh.

I descend as far into the cave as it's possible to descend, crawling on my four legs to tuck myself to sleep in the furthest corner. No sunshine can reach me here.

Everything is dark as death--which I think I just visited before returning to this world--and suddenly, I recognize myself again. Four legs turn into two hands and two feet. White fur turns to pale and scarred skin. Hunger for blood turn to deep sorrow.

Swept in a white bearskin, I find myself tucked between damp and jagged rocks. I know who I am now.

I am Björn.

What I don't know is exactly what I am now, at least not in the daylight. In here, I'm a man like before, having cheated my own death, but out in the sun, I walk in another skin. It's a curse, or perhaps a gift.

I know one more thing. I know who killed me. I know I died at my father's hand.

No matter what or who I am, I want his blood. I want to taste it. I want to break his bones with jagged teeth.

In the darkness, I fall into a deep slumber. The kind of slumber that seems like it will last for eternity. I wonder if this curse, or gift, will last an eternity as well. Because I've already died once, and maybe you only get one chance at leaving.

Author's Note: Quite a short chapter here, as I needed this short sequence to kind of close the gap between Björn and Saga's story. I hope that's alright :)

But damn these few words were hard to write! Writing Bear POV isn't really something I've done before...