๐ ๐ญ๐ฐ๐ต ๐ฉ๐ข๐ด ๐ฉ๐ข๐ฑ๐ฑ๐ฆ๐ฏ๐ฆ๐ฅ ๐ด๐ช๐ฏ๐ค๐ฆ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ง๐ช๐ณ๐ด๐ต ๐ฅ๐ข๐บ ๐ฐ๐ง ๐ธ๐ข๐ญ๐ฌ๐ช๐ฏ๐จ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ณ๐ฆ๐ฆ ๐ฏ๐ช๐จ๐ฉ๐ต๐ด ๐ข๐จ๐ฐ. ๐ ๐ฆ๐ฏ๐ค๐ฐ๐ถ๐ฏ๐ต๐ฆ๐ณ๐ฆ๐ฅ ๐ข ๐ง๐ฐ๐น, ๐ธ๐ฉ๐ช๐ค๐ฉ ๐ ๐ฎ๐ข๐ฏ๐ข๐จ๐ฆ ๐ต๐ฐ ๐ด๐ค๐ข๐ณ๐ฆ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ง๐ช๐ณ๐ด๐ต ๐ต๐ช๐ฎ๐ฆ, ๐ฃ๐ถ๐ต ๐ช๐ต๐ด ๐ฅ๐ฆ๐ด๐ฑ๐ฆ๐ณ๐ข๐ต๐ช๐ฐ๐ฏ ๐ข๐ฏ๐ฅ ๐ฅ๐ฆ๐ด๐ช๐ณ๐ฆ ๐ง๐ฐ๐ณ ๐ข๐ด๐ด๐ช๐ด๐ต๐ข๐ฏ๐ค๐ฆ ๐ค๐ข๐ถ๐ด๐ฆ๐ฅ ๐ฎ๐ฆ ๐ต๐ฐ ๐ง๐ฆ๐ฆ๐ญ ๐ฆ๐ฎ๐ฑ๐ข๐ต๐ฉ๐บ ๐ง๐ฐ๐ณ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ง๐ช๐ณ๐ด๐ต ๐ต๐ช๐ฎ๐ฆ ๐ช๐ฏ ๐บ๐ฆ๐ข๐ณ๐ด. ๐๐ฉ๐ข๐ต ๐ฏ๐ช๐จ๐ฉ๐ต, ๐ ๐ข๐ญ๐ด๐ฐ ๐ฑ๐ณ๐ข๐บ๐ฆ๐ฅ ๐ต๐ฐ "๐๐ฐ๐ฅ" ๐ง๐ฐ๐ณ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ง๐ช๐ณ๐ด๐ต ๐ต๐ช๐ฎ๐ฆ, ๐ข๐ฏ๐ฅ ๐ ๐ฅ๐ฐ๐ถ๐ฃ๐ต ๐ต๐ฉ๐ข๐ต ๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ธ๐ช๐ญ๐ญ ๐ณ๐ฆ๐ด๐ฑ๐ฐ๐ฏ๐ฅ. ๐ ๐ฎ๐ฐ๐ด๐ต๐ญ๐บ ๐ด๐ต๐ข๐ณ๐ท๐ฆ๐ฅ ๐ฎ๐บ๐ด๐ฆ๐ญ๐ง๐ต๐ธ๐ฐ ๐ฏ๐ช๐จ๐ฉ๐ต๐ด ๐ข๐จ๐ฐ ๐ฃ๐ถ๐ต ๐ง๐ฐ๐ถ๐ฏ๐ฅ ๐ข ๐ฉ๐ถ๐จ๐ฆ ๐ด๐ต๐ณ๐ฆ๐ข๐ฎ ๐ธ๐ช๐ต๐ฉ ๐ง๐ณ๐ฆ๐ด๐ฉ ๐ธ๐ข๐ต๐ฆ๐ณ. ๐ ๐ค๐ฐ๐ฏ๐ต๐ช๐ฏ๐ถ๐ฆ๐ฅ ๐ธ๐ข๐ญ๐ฌ๐ช๐ฏ๐จ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ข๐ต ๐ฏ๐ช๐จ๐ฉ๐ต ๐ฑ๐ข๐ถ๐ด๐ช๐ฏ๐จ ๐ง๐ณ๐ฆ๐ฒ๐ถ๐ฆ๐ฏ๐ต๐ญ๐บ ๐ต๐ฐ ๐ธ๐ณ๐ช๐ต๐ฆ ๐ช๐ฏ ๐ฎ๐บ ๐ซ๐ฐ๐ถ๐ณ๐ฏ๐ข๐ญ. ๐๐ฏ๐ฅ ๐ง๐ฐ๐ณ ๐ญ๐ข๐ด๐ต ๐ฏ๐ช๐จ๐ฉ๐ต ๐ ๐ฉ๐ข๐ฅ๐ฏ'๐ต ๐ด๐ฆ๐ฆ๐ฏ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ง๐ฐ๐น ๐ง๐ฐ๐ณ ๐ข๐ญ๐ฎ๐ฐ๐ด๐ต ๐ต๐ฉ๐ณ๐ฆ๐ฆ ๐ฏ๐ช๐จ๐ฉ๐ต๐ด ๐ช๐ฏ ๐ข ๐ณ๐ฐ๐ธ ๐ญ๐ข๐ด๐ต ๐ฏ๐ช๐จ๐ฉ๐ต, ๐ ๐ฃ๐ฆ๐ค๐ข๐ฎ๐ฆ ๐ค๐ฐ๐ฏ๐ค๐ฆ๐ณ๐ฏ๐ฆ๐ฅ.
With my shoes in one hand and a large stick I found in the other, I begin walking across another stream. My toes twitch in the icy water, where a leaf occasionally attaches to my ankle. There isn't much occurring as this is the fourth day I have been in here. No knowledge on how i got here or why I am here. Just another roadblock for soon questions to have answers too.
My stomach grumbles once again as in the distance I see massive rock. I go up to the massive rock, which from the hight of it appears to have a magnificent view. My back is slouching from the weight of the bag from the items I found during the previous three nights. It's not elegant, since I now understand how individuals with chronic back pain feel. It feels like a swarm of needles are piercing my back. A lot of the rock I start climbing on is smooth; there are a few minor hard sections here and there, but not enough to make climbing difficult.
The view is beautiful as I sit down and let my legs drop down the ledge of the rock. It appears to have been painted by a painter. Trees swinging in the breeze, with light shining through at just the correct angle and intensity. It looks like Bob Ross could paint it all over again, with the same stream reflection on the light and the uncommon cloud.
As I breathe on my hands to feel any heat, they started to get warm then cold once again. My bag is on my lap, facing me, with the zipper facing in the upward direction. My left hand grabs the bag, and my right begins to unzip it, revealing the notebook and a dead sammon for which I use the stick to kill the flesh for. There is also a few shards of glass, which I need for severeal reasons. How I found glass is still a mystery I doubt to answer. I'm not sure if I should call it a mircale or just plain out luck.
I remove the dead sammon and glass shard from the bag and set it on the rock, ensuring that my bag does not fall into the river ahead of me. The sammon is dead and gazing at me as I flip the fish in the opposite direction, making sure its eyes don't look at me while I cook its lifeless flesh. The jabbing sensation starts to irritate my skin as I watch the little specks of blood coming out as I grip the glass shard by the edges. The sun's rays begin to pierce the glass, causing little flames to appear before being extinguished by the wind. . .many times before it finally starts to cook.
My right hand covers one of the sides, and I begin to watch the fish cook slow but steadily. I sometimes flip it over to the other side while waiting for it to cook. My right hand would accidentally go beneath the flame each time I flipped the samon, before quickly flipping it with my heart was beating. I almost toss the sammon back into the stream a few times, but thankfully I manage to avoid it.
I decide to go for a stroll while eating...but I'm aware that there's a good potential that a bear will come along and devour my life (despite the fact that I haven't seen a bear yet) or that I'll make it out with no food for the day. My arm swoops into my backpack strap, where I drop the glass shard and wip my fingers onto my sweater. Then I grab the finally cooked salmon after almost half an hour and use the skin as a heatpad till it cools down, I begin walking down the rock. and got off the rock with easy balence.
I began walking, looking around to realize that the path I'm on isn't the one that I was walking from last night. It's much different now, with longer streams, more trees, and natural noises filling my ears. I come to a halt and turn to the side to see massive salmons swimming and, out in the distance, a massive bear. A thunderous roar can be in the distance when the bear spots the dead fish. It's eyes target towards me. I'm not sure what kind of bear it is, so I start running before it gets too near to the fish.
When a grizzly bear roars at me, I remember learning many years ago that there are two sorts of bears and what you should do about them. With a black bear or any other non-grizzly bear, it's always a matter of finding something to fight with, such as sticks or twigs or rocks, even kicking it in the face. When it comes to grizzly bears, I've learned that playing dead is key and to never fight back. As I lay down, I begin to flutter my eyelids backward and hold my breath as long while possible as I watch the bear charging towards me, claws in front of me and howling in the background.
It took a while before the bear came up to me.
๐ ๐ธ๐ข๐ฏ๐ต ๐ข๐ช๐ณ. . .
. . ๐ ๐ฏ๐ฆ๐ฆ๐ฅ ๐ข๐ช๐ณ. . .
. . ๐๐ช๐ณ. . .๐ฏ๐ฆ๐ฆ๐ฅ. . .๐ฎ๐ฆ. . .
My body is stiffening and stiffening, and every second feels like a minute. And each minute seems to stretch into an hour. The black abyss begins to fill with swrils of colour and forms, and time becomes unkown. My heart was beating as though it were heavy drums. And the need for breath grows stronger and stronger. The sounds of the actual world begin to dull, and. . .
I open my eyes and see no bear; my head swoops forward, and I sit on the side of a large stream, where the bear, who knows where it has gone, has vanished. I look into the landscape for a few minutes, a tremendous sigh of relaxation on my face. Somewhat due to my prior knowledge of nature. The same view from the rock is still there, only at a closer range where I can take long breaths to slow my pulse rate down.
I get up and start walking again, this time in a route I've never gone before, wondering how I'm going to make it home. . .