This was haunting my thoughts earlier during my shift

Werebear Hank meets woodsman-sorceror Connor in the woods. Connor first encounters the bear at a distance while gathering berries, watches the shaggy way the beast moves through the dense foliage of the forest. It's the

Height of summer, and the forest is lush and teeming with growth. Connor admires the beast from a safe distance away, not wanting to spook it. It's big enough for Connor to know it's a Grizzly, as well as with the hump on its back. He can also tell its an old bear, the ends of

the beasts fur shine with silver. It must be a very wise and crafty brute to have survived long enough to gray. And with its size, it would have to eat a lot. Yes, this is a great king wandering through his domain, sniffing out roots and good things to eat.

Then the bear stops.

He freezes in place, ears turned to and fro in thought, like it's considering something, then lifts its great shaggy head in Connor's direction, and actually manages to lock eyes with the crouched human.

Connor instinctively freezes in turn,holding his basket of goodies close.

The bear growls, and stomps the ground warningly with his feet. It shakes the whole forest, and Connor trembles. He speaks, infusing magic unto his words in the hopes it will translate appropriately.

"I am not here to harm you. Only to gather some food."

The bear watches him.

Grows quiet, actually. As if actually processing what Connor said. Maybe the magic did translate then. Connor can't help but feel satisfied at the thought of that. It's so hard to tell if animals actually understand, even with magic.

But the beast seems placated for now. The fur

along his great shoulders settle, and he actually seems to chuff out a sound from lips that almost sounds like laughter.

The bear shakes his head, then turns from Connor to go back to his digging.

The sorcerer relaxes. He doesn't take his eyes off the bear, or at least not for

long, and the two continue their companionable food-gathering, separated by several meters between them.

Its nice, Connor thinks. This way to connect with nature, even if not through regular means. He hopes the bear doesn't mind sharing the berries; he favors them, after all.

Connor wonders if, when they part, he'll see the bear again. It's a wonder he didn't see the bear until now, but the wild forces of nature run their own course separate from man, and holds secrets Connor knows he would never be privy to. He doesn't mind, though. This simple act

of peaceably sharing the same space is more than enough for him.

The sorcerer actually finds that with him so focused on the bear busily munching away ahead of him, that he doesn't notice the other one sneaking up behind.

At least not until it's too late, that is.

Connor hears the terrible growl before he sees the bear. Hears the sounds of twigs and leaves snapping and crunching from behind, accompanies with the shaggy shuffling of a great and lumbering beast. There's snorting and a foul stench that fills his nostrils, like a dog that

hasn't been washed in /years/.

He hears the low snarling, and turns just in time to see another bear come charging right at him.

In hindsight, Connor knows that he panicked. Words stumble from his lips as he tries to think of a spell that will help him somehow, but his babbling

is fruitless when nothing he says can be stringed together into a proper spell.

He only has one last thought, and it's his wish that his brother were here with him.

A bellowing roar deafens him before the angered bear can strike him, though, and in a whirl of fur and fury, the

peaceful bear Connor encountered SLAMS into the new one.

Teeth and claws flash. Heavy paws strike against the other and rip into sensitive flesh. Connor watches in horror and amazement as the beast of a bear he admired fights off the newcomer, always keeping his back to Connor.

Refusing to let the other bear come between he and the human.

A thought distantly echoes in Connor's mind.

The bear is protecting him, like a mother would her cubs.

Connor trembles where he cowers in the bushes, considers running off but thinks better of it. Besides, in a mere

matter of seconds it's over, and the other bear gruffly lumber away. The older bear chases him away for a second, but doesn't go far, like he doesn't want to stray too far from Connor.

He rises into his back feet, looking for more trouble. Mouth parted as he scents the air and

turns his ears, listening for any further signs of trouble. He puffs and snorts out indignantly, then comes back to the ground with a heavy /thunk/

Then he turns his shaggy head, and looks again at Connor.

The two are closer than they were before. The meters of distance now

Limited to just a handful of paces. No more than several steps' worth.

If the bear wanted to, he could maul Connor into pieces, and the human would have no chance to get away.

But something in Connor knows he won't.

Up close, he can see more details of the bears' figure.

The blood that mats his fur from the fight, a rotten snaggle tooth that hangs over a lip, old scars deep into fur from previous battles, and even a notch in one ear.

But the beast looks at Connor with something weighted, like it /knows/ there's something more going on.

The creature doesn't break gazes with Connor, but he moves, right in his direction.

And it's only when the two are separated by a mere foot away from each other when Connor finally realizes what it is.

The bears' eyes.

They're blue. Bright baby blue, like forget-me-nots, or

the sky on a clear day.

But it's more than just the color.

They're /human/ eyes.

"Oh," Connor says on a soft breath of air, blinking, feeling somewhat embarrassed now, like he should have realized sooner. He looks the bear up and down. "You're under a spell."

The great bear huffs out a great sigh, eyes going lidded as he stares at Connor.

Careful, but more sure of himself now, Connor reaches an empty palm to the bear, and settles his hand against the thick brown fur.

The beast leans into the touch, and his eyes close, looking almost

blissful at the sensation. Like he hasn't had positive physical contact for years.

When Connor's hand comes into contact with the bear's fur, deep enough so he can feel the roots of the hairs, he can sense it. The level thrum just beneath the muscles and bones, where the soul is

It's human, all right. Just.. altered, somehow. And it sings with an additional layer of magic that was not initially there.

It's odd. Misplaced, but very tightly woven. Connor frowns. Old spells are far more difficult to break than new ones.

"You've been like this for a long

time, haven't you?" Connor murmurs, eyes distant as he draws his hand from the side of the bear's head up to his massive forehead, then down to his cheek where the shorter, bristly fur scratches against his fingers.

The bear groans, eyes opening just slightly to look at Connor.

The sorcerer offers a faint smile, and hopes it comes off as some level of reassuring. "Why don't you come with me; we'll see if we can fix you up."

The bear sighs, humongous shoulders deflating, like some terrible burden was removed from them, and leans into Connor's hand more.

He smiles, and reaches with one hand to scratch at a soft and torn ear. "It's not far," he says. "Do you think you can make the walk?"

Another harsh huff of air leaves the bear, and he lifts his shaggy head in a nod.

Connor's smile is faint. "Alright then. Let's go."

--

The bear follows after Connor through the short walk back to his cabin the sorcerer calls home. He has a slight limo to one limb as he walks, and Connor thinks to himself on some healing spells he could maybe use, mild ones that won't interact with the greater spell placed on the

human-turned-bear. He hasn't had to use a healing spell in ages, hopefully it will be enough to help.

His small cabin soon comes into view through the thick trees and bushes, homey and dark with a curl of smoke that rises from a small chimney.

Connor walks through the lush

garden that lines and protects his home. Stray leaves and vines curl toward him as he walks through the paths he knows so well, while they shirk away from the bear that lumbers behind.

/Curious/, Connor thinks, and watches for only a second longer before continuing on.

-continued Werebear Hank!-

The monstrous animal is huge, but manages to squeeze through the entryway to the cabin. Connor hurries to put and tuck away his more fragile and breakable items lest the bear accidentally cause them to break.

"Excuse my mess," Connor says to the bear.

He lifts his head to look at Connor oddly, ears turned forward, and he lets out a gruff breath of air past his lips. The smell immediately fills the small cabin, and Connor coughs. Smells like fish. He waves his fingers to cast a cleansing spell through the air, whispers a couple

of words under his breath to let it stick for the next few hours. "Yes, well," and he directs his attention to the bear, who looks up at him expectantly with those bright blue human eyes. "I'm hoping to relieve you of whatever spell or curse you're under, though it will be more

difficult since you're unable to tell me in explicit detail what happened to you."

One thing already fascinating about the bear is how expressive he is (Connor thinks distantly he doesn't even know that the bear is a he), and raises thick brows.

"At the very least, you retain

human speech," Connor says. "Or.. the ability to understand it."

The bear watches him. Connor realizes how hard it truly is to carry on a conversation when only one person can communicate effectively.

"My name is Connor," the young sorcerer says, deciding he might as well

introduce himself. "I'm - well I'm a sorcerer, but I'd rather you don't go spreading that around, if you please. Not very much of us anymore and I'd rather keep my person a secret. Assuming I'm able to clear you of this spell."

The great bear chuffs out a breath in what Connor

thinks (hopes?) might be laughter, and nods, bowing his head, as if accepting.

Connor's shoulders deflate in just the slightest. "Thank you. I appreciate your discretion."

The bear snorts, and nods again. The movement appears strained.

Connor finds he isn't entirely sure where

exactly to go from here. In a typical scenario of spell or curse-breaking, he would sit the client down and talk to them about what had happened, which typically translates to "who did you piss off?" when it comes to magic. Though sometimes spells don't allow the person to give

the details of it in the first place. It's a very tricky business, one Connor tries not to tread lightly, or often. And while every curse or spell can be broken.. it is often dangerous to attempt if not done correctly.

There's something more to that, though.

Connor owes this

cursed bear his life. The one he encountered in the forest surely would have killed him - if this cursed being was not there to stop him, the only thing left from Connor would be his remains and his cabin left to rot.

He didn't like owing favors. Not when magic is involved.

He levels his gaze with the bear. "I must be candid with you; there is no guarantee I'll be able to break the spell. Even if I were to learn and familiarize myself with every aspect of it, I still may be incapable of breaking it. Do you understand?"

The bear lifts his shaggy

head in a nod.

"Is nodding an acceptable way for you to communicate yes or no?" Connor asks. He pulls the drawstrings of his shirt about his waist so the fabric pulls taut across his abdomen. "Would lifting one of your paws perhaps be easier? Flicking your ears?"

The bear nods.

Connor leaves it at that.

"If you don't have anything else going on then, Mr. Bear, can we proceed?"

The bear dips his head.

They spend the rest of the afternoon pain-stakingly trying to communicate. Soon Connor picks up 'yes' or 'no' by not just the bear's nodding, but by the

flick of an ear or an irritated chuff of expelled air when the sorcerer says something to upset the creature.

Connor tries to reach out with his magic and feel the spell. He gets on his knees in front of the bear, places his open palms over the bear's heart and at his forehead.

"The heart and the mind - the strongest key points of the human spirit," the sorcerer says with a soft and revere voice before he begins, as way of explaining to him. "It will allow me to get closer to the spell holding you - perhaps I can figure some of it out."

The bear levels

his steady blue gaze to Connor, then tips his head forward until their foreheads touch. A rumbling sound builds through the beast's chest, and large bear lips nibble at the point of Connor's chin in what the sorcerer assumes to be a playful bite. He laughs softly and wipes away

the bear spit, message received.

The bear trusts him.

"Right," and before Connor can question himself further, he dives in.

He almost immediately encounters a wall. Strong, impassable, as present to who this bear is as much as his very physical being.

"Wow," Connor breathes.

His brows furrow, and he feels the creature rumble deep again, the tone questioning.

"Whoever put the spell on you /really wanted/ it to stick - and for no one to mess around with it." Connor keeps his own frown in place, feeling along the wall. Clouded and solid, no hints of

what or who left it in place.

"Damn," he mutters. "You /really/ pissed someone off."

The bear groans, shoulders dropping with a great sigh. A resigned nod.

Connor shakes his head carefully. "I've never felt a spell in place as strong as this one." He bites the inside of his

cheek. "Spells are put in place not just with magic, but by will. Oftentimes they fade as the person who cast them starts to fade. They grow weaker, or the spell naturally gets weakened because the Caster's will or care about the spell fades. It's not often that spells.. that

long lasting ones like these actually manage to retain their strength, or if anything, grow /stronger/."

It unnerves Connor, honestly. There aren't many who would be capable of casting this. And there's only one other sorcerer he can think of that was at one point in this area-

"How long have you been cursed?" he asks the bear, then shakes his head when he realizes his own mistake because the bear can't answer him. "Sorry. Uhm. Years?"

A blink, and a furrowed bear brow. The bear huffs, then lifts his shoulders in an uncertain shrug.

That's revealing enough. If he can't recall how long he's been like this - it's surely been years.

"Do you know what year it is?" Connor asks.

The bear slightly shakes his head.

"It's 2019."

The bear's reaction is revealing, if nothing else. His eyes grow wide, and his jaw

even drops in disbelief, revealing those sharp grizzly teeth. Connor keeps the connection open as he pries at the spell, still. He frowns, sympathetic, and lowers his voice. "I'm guessing it's.. been a while then, huh."

A sound escapes the bear then, high, pained, like someone

shot him in the side.

And Connor feels it.

Such a strong emotion, it strikes him in the stomach like a bolt from the blue, somehow finding it's way through the blocked connection to pierce Connor like a spear.

"Oh-! Shh-it," he gasps, but keeps the connection open. If an

emotion like that was able to get past, perhaps there's a chink in the armor somewhere he can exploit, a crack in the wall-

But the connection is abruptly severed when the bear rips away from him and bolts out the door.

Connor is left reeling for a moment, stunned as he's

forcefully returned to himself. He shakes his head, and realizes distantly that he's fallen back on his ass from being yanked from his connection to the bear.

"H-Hey!" he calls, realizing the creature is nowhere to be seen. He feebly sends out a tracking spell, and glimmers of

sparkling pink lights show him the way the bear ran. "Come back!" he yells, standing with wobbly feet and chasing after the animal.

"Wait!"

Grizzlies can run faster than humans, and this cursed-bear is no exception. Connor's strength begins to return to him as he recovers from

the effects of his connection to the bear, and the tracking spell remains intact as he follows a straight-forward path to-to something. He isn't sure where the bear is fleeing.

But he's clearly in pain. The news of the current year must be a shock to him.

Which worries Connor.

He doesn't want him to do anything reckless that could get him injured.

The spell grows stronger as he follows it and he grows more desperate. He knows he's getting closer as the pink and sparkling clouds of light grow more prominent.

Leading him right to a bear's den.

Connor cancels the spell with a light curl of his tongue so the pink and sparkling smoke dissipates. He knows the bear is here.

The den is wide enough for him to squeeze in to. It's a dark hole beneath the thick roots of a huge tree leading into a dark pit Connor can't see into.

He crouches down to peer into it, to no avail, but he turns his head slightly, and when he listens, he can hear a course huffing, and a high-pitched groaning.

Like crying.

Connor's heart aches. "Mr. Bear?" he calls, for lack of better name to call his newest acquaintance.

"It's Connor - can I come in?"

The resounding growl shakes Connor to his core and sets his bones trembling. He licks his lips, heart pounding like a bird's in his chest. He braces his hands at one of the roots over the entrance of the den. It's only a few feet wide, oval-shape.

Rough. And if it's big enough for a (conceivably) 1000 pound bear to squeeze in to, then Connor could certainly wrangle his way through.

"I know it must have come as a great shock to- to perhaps realize how long you've been like this- but.. I'm here to help."

The best whines.

It's a heartbreaking sound, inhuman, but so clearly in pain. Connor blinks past his own reactive eyes that empathetically swell with tears. "I want to break your spell. You saved my life. I owe you that much."

He considers which way to go in, and crawling forward will give him

the best mobility, despite the greater risk it puts for him to go head-first rather than feet.

"I can't understand what you're going through," he says. As he moves into the den. Darkness quickly swallows him; he blinks a few times to sharpen his vision with a night-vision spell.

It's not strong - so hastily casted, but it will do the trick for now. "It's difficult not really being able to- to understand each other. But I truly do want to help and offer what support I can for you." The soil under his hands and knees skits down the narrow passageway.

The tunnel is short, only about 5 feet long or so, opening up into a wider chamber that turns a corner so wind can't blow directly in.

"I know we just met today so I know you surely don't trust me, but-"

Connor turns to corner, and the bear is right there.

The chamber is small

perhaps the size of a bathroom or so, but with a far shorter ceiling. Roots dangle from the dirt roof, larger ones maintaining the structure. to keep it from collapsing.

Connor's vision spell helps to sharpen his eyesight so he can better distinguish shapes, like when there's a

full moon to illuminate a dark forest pathway.

Close like this, in such a small and confined space, the bear seems so much /larger/ than he is, and Connor is quickly reminded of how small and weak he very is to this creature, who could easily destroy him.

Even if he is human, human's do irrational things, especially when upset.

And Connor doesn't know what this once-human is really going through, but he knows he is /very/ upset. Furious.

The bear swings his head to look right at Connor. Heavy bear lips curl back into a snarl.

Bright blue eyes stand out in the darkness, aching and hurt. Connor whispers something in a forgotten language, tongue and lips hardly moving, and he strengthens his vision spell.

In addition to the dried blood causing the bear's fur to stick out at odd places, there are also

wet tracks going down the great beast's eyes.

Tears.

From crying.

"Oh," Connor breathes, and his shoulders slump. "Oh, I- you poor thing," he goes to his pockets and fishes out a handkerchief. He looks the bear carefully in the eyes, and moving slowly, reaches his covered hand

to dab at the wet fur. "I'm so sorry, Mr. Bear," he murmurs, mournful. "I didn't mean to upset you like this - that was never my intention."

The growling eases, lips covering those glints of white teeth. When Connor's hands touch and trail along his face, his eyes close, and he

leans again into the touch. And Connor knows he's been forgiven.

"But I can't have you running off," he amends, and continues to keep his voice even. "Especially after hearing what must be distressing for you - it could lead you to take poor decisions. And I don't want you to

hurt more than you do." He blinks, as if suddenly reminded. "Speaking of-"

Without expanding on the idea further, Connor's hands migrate to a sticky spot at the bear's shoulder. There's a tugging in his heart that pulls when his hand rests over the open wound, something that

drains yet fills him in the very same breath. He lends his own strength, his durability, his perseverance. It's not nearly enough to fully heal the creature's wounds, but they're at the very least closed and cleaned to prevent further injury or harm befalling them.

He's guided by his magic sense to the other injuries. And with every one he interacts with, the bear's tense muscles start to relax. Connor even heals one on his neck, and the bear sighs in obvious relief.

"There," Connor says with a yawn. He wriggles back into his first space.

Using healing magic was probably /not/ the best decision in this moment, not when he's already so tired from running and using that spell earlier, and now he has to make the journey back to his cabin. He's exhausted. You have to give to get when it comes to magic, even more so

with healing magic when the magic-welder needs to directly take their own energy and transfer it to whoever requires it. Not to mention it requires more on Connor's part since the other one receiving it isn't fully human, and thereby not fully compatible with it.