The bear lifts her paw and looks at the grains of dirt that sift through her claws. Comparisons can be drawn to the sands of time and dust in the wind but the bear doesn’t make them. She blinks, eyes piggish and squinty, like the distance and dimming light is bothersome. It is neither of those things but the niggling sensation of loss that blossoms in her like an ache. The equine part of that shared animal heart has reared its ugly head for a moment in the bear’s stillness to remind it of its dual nature and other things, things the bear knew nothing of.
Bear-Keeper gave a low growl and slammed its paw back into the earth. No! The ursine side would not cave before the soft mushy equine side. She gave a snort and resumed staring at the river, actually contemplating doing some fishing. That was a favorite pastime of hers and she liked the glimmer of fish scales on her muzzle before they dulled and flaked off. That might have been one small vanity the bear allowed herself in her harsh and basic world. Not that such a thing had ever won her a mate nor had she given that a second thought - that was the mare’s realm and she left those weak things to her.
Sometimes the bear wondered how the horse even survived. More and more, she took over to get them through the seasons and the heartache. If left to the mare, they might have given up and died over a broken heart and a stallion’s fading scent on the cave he had claimed. Well, her cave now… for a moment, she turned towards the trees at her back and sniffed - autumn was fading and she could feel the stirrings of the need to hibernate. Eat first. Then sleep. The long sleep and the bear actually looked forward to such a lengthy time of dreaming and snoring.
It is possible that in that moment, Bear-Keeper might have smiled except it was extremely feral and toothy.
The bear’s reverie is interrupted by hoof steps and she doesn’t start in surprise - it’s a horse. There were plenty of them around, and occasionally she looked at a foal a little too long and with a bit of drool on her lip. This one practices animal etiquette and remains at a distance but near enough for the bear to get a whiff of a most familiar scent… Hyaline. She dwelt there once and long ago, in the earliest stages of her shifts. Even had a cave there until she abandoned it for Ryan’s cave then Balto’s.
The bear startles at that. She doesn’t usually remember places and names, at least not anything so commonly and lovingly associated with the mare side of herself. There is a grumble and rolls of fat shifting before she remembers that she has company and company is still there, asking if it’s real or not. The meaning is lost on her because she is as real as a bear can be until the more equine surfaces and tells her to answer the pale horse. That part of her understands what is being asked.
Bear-Keeper tries to answer instead though, and it comes out of her mouth as a series of grunts and growls. Then a noise of exasperation is made and now there is a plump little mare sitting on her haunches, laughing to herself, and feeling more meat on her bones than she remembered before the last shift. Keeper had been thinner then, but knew her bear-self would eat better for the two of them. “Real enough at times, and a sham of a shifter all the rest.” she remarks with a lilting laugh, that sounds a tad bit growly - the bear was always near the surface, lurking.