Not a growl. Not a roar. Something more like a signal. Then it lifted its paw from the hull and slapped the water sharply. Once. Then again. The splash echoed across the ice. It turned its head, gazed toward a thick patch of floes to the east, then looked back at them.
Slap. “What the hell is she doing?” Henrik asked. Elias squinted toward the direction she had gestured. Nothing but shifting ice and white haze. “You ever seen one behave like this?” “No.” Henrik’s voice dropped a note. “And I’ve seen a bear eat its own cub.”