No sooner had Erika set down the deer and began to survey the progress that had been made on their shelter than she heard a roar from behind her, and dread welled up in the pit of her stomach. She turned as the bear was charging at her, eyes widening. She instinctively backed up, and when the bear swiped for her, it was the deer that actually saved her, tripping her when she stumbled over it and sending her falling back onto her rear.

She’d wanted to get off her feet, but not like this. Erika lay directly on top of the deer, probably the worst position possible to be in, and for a moment she thought that surely the beast was going to descend on her and rend her to pieces. It didn’t though, turning sharply to charge off at Alva and Faen instead. She didn’t want to be callous, but in that moment, all she felt was relief that someone else was the subject of the bear’s wrath.

Not wanting to remain helpless on top of the bear’s meal any longer, Erika rolled over and scrambled to her feet, putting some distance between her and the carcass. The best she had for weapons at the moment was the hatchet hooked under her belt. She doubted she could do much to the bear besides get herself killed if she tried to fight it, but it was better than nothing. Her arrows probably wouldn’t slow it down, even if she shot all ten into it.

She’d encountered bears before, of course, but never in a situation where they threatened her entire livelihood. The answer before had always been to just run away. It didn’t seem like a bad idea at the moment, so long as it was gone when they came back. Erika would rather go hungry for a night than be dead for eternity.

“What do we do?” she asked, when she made it to Audrunar and Jonrik. Perhaps the young warrior and the smith had a good way of making their problem disappear.