Yet something else tugged at him from beneath the terror: a soft, persistent sense that the bear was as desperate as he was. Step by step, he pressed on through the hush of the Arctic night, torn between the urge to flee and the impossible pull to follow.
But just as he started thinking of turning back, convinced that the entire ordeal was madness, he spotted a faint glow. Firelight shimmered against the darkness, revealing forms huddled near a makeshift shelter. His chest tightened. Humans—poachers, most likely—were encamped here.