With shaking hands she grabbed a broken shard of crab pot, using the jagged edge as a crude knife. The bear stood motionless but alert, unblinking, as if judging every move. Each strand she sliced seemed endless; oil stung her palms and the sharp chemical reek burned her throat.
Finally the last loop gave. The small body slipped into her arms—limp, tar-coated, its breaths shallow yet stubborn. She felt a faint heartbeat flutter under the sludge. The bear emitted a deep, resonant sound—neither threat nor relief—before turning toward the passage back to the beach.