Random Prompt: The stale scent of a bear is within the area. Where you first detected the beast are the remains of a fallen bee hive. There are still a few honeycombs that are salvageable.
He had stirred on guard. The scent that smacked his nostrils was stale, but unmistakable. He would not rest until he had made sure it was gone. Satan had given him a place and Vuk would gut any creature that threatened it. Simple.
Yet the air became sweetened by something else as the stench of the bear faded from the area. As if it had been a ploy, but bears were not so smart. He did not think so. They were simple beasts like himself.
So he prodded at the honeycomb that laid upon the warm, evening earth. The sticky substance it left upon his lips was sweeter than he cared for. Perhaps the king would wish for it. A gift, a bounty of nutrients surely, otherwise why would a bear care for it?
He loosened out a small call and wondered if any would come see what had been left for them.
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