Anima: The Camping Trip Chapter 5

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#5 of Anima: The Camping Trip

While trying to fish for food, Dean and Russel have an encounter with a wild bear.


Hunching behind Russel, I peeked around his right hip to see the brown bear approaching. It didn't seem angry, just slowly walking toward us. Once it was about thirty feet out, it seemed to stop. Standing, waiting, unmoving.

"What is it doing?" Whispering to Russel.

"I... I don't know. He's just standing there," Russel widened his stance, "Maybe I should try and spook it?"

"Should you?" I asked, my hands gripping the fur on his rear, "Maybe we should book it to the cabin." Russel began to quiver as the bear started walking closer again. Russel repositioned his legs, almost like he was about to run, widening them further and hunching slightly.

Rubbing my hand on his back, I tried to reassure him, primarily for my safety, "Russel, it's going to be ok. He seems curious, is all."

Russel's voice shook, "I know... when I say to, run back to the cabin and shut the door."

"And abandon you with a bear?" I questioned his thoughts as he began to shake more.

"I need to scare him off... But it would be best if you went first," Russel's voice was getting more uneasy, "GO! Run for the cabin!" Russel shouted.

Without skipping a beat, I sprinted for the cabin. Running as fast as my legs could carry me, reaching the door and slamming it shut behind me. Quickly looking out the window, the bear seemed unfazed by my running. Slowly walking closer to Russel, who stood still as the bear began to walk around him.

Even from my current distance away, Russel looked terrified. His body trembled as the bear fearlessly walked around him, sniffing the ground and Russel himself. Both seemed to freeze as Russel's body blocked my view of the bear. Russel's eyes shut, and the bear stood on its hind legs and stumbled toward Russel. It was looking as if it could strike. With a loud growl, Russel turned around and swung at the bear with his front paw.

"GRRAH!" Russel shouted as his paw shoved the bear backward onto its rear. Russel turned and began running on all fours to the cabin, "Dean! Let me URRAHN!" His voice turned to a growl again. Russel's body galloped quickly across the space.

Opening the door, Russel ran into the main space. Turning back to check, the door was shut behind him. He curled up on the ground and hid his face in his fur. His body was still shaking. I kept next to him and tried to think of something to say.

"Your safe, Russ. It's over." The odor hit me again, but the strongest it had been yet, but I tried to ignore it.

I stood up, realizing something was off, and looked back out the window. I only caught a glimpse of the bear walking back off into the woods. Hopefully, it would keep its distance.

"Russel, the bear is gone."'

Russel remained silent.

Walking closer, I rested a hand on his side, "Russ, it's going to be ok, dude. It's gone, and I don't think we need to worry about it."

"Th...that... that wasn't me out there," Russel was practically crying.

"What do you mean it wasn't you?" trying to find his face in all the fur, but unable, "You did great out there, man. I wouldn't have been able to do what you just did!"

"I couldn't move, Dean. It was like, I could see and feel everything, but I couldn't control myself." Russel tensed up, then released.

"Feel what? The bear?"

"The bear in me, Dean. Sh-... he just wanted to stand there. I tried to pull myself away, but I was frozen," Russel shook his head, "What am I? Like, what is happening to us?"

I sighed, "I don't know, Russ. We have to hold out just a few more days, and then we go home."

Russel rolled over to face his body toward me, "I can't hold out any longer, Dean. It's trying to take me. I can feel it."

"Feel what?" I asked, but I knew what he meant. Looking over his body now, he looked more like a scrawny bear than a human.

"Something changed last night. I can't... I don't know what to do," Russel shifted in place again, "it's only getting harder to ignore it."

"Come on, dude, just a few more days. We'll do it together."

"I'll try, but I can't even think clearly. I feel tired, but if I fall back, it'll take over. I don't think I could fight it again." Russel stood up on all fours, "look at me now. I can't even walk right anymore," Russel's voice cracked. , "If I go back out there, I don't think I would be coming back."

Walking back to the door and rechecking the area, the bear was still nowhere to be seen. Russel shouted as I opened the door, "What are you doing?"

Reaching back into the door, I grabbed the emergency kit from the floor, "We gotta eat something, Russ," opening the bag, I saw the flare gun and three cartridges, "If I need it, the flares will do something at least."

Russel started to walk to the door, "You can't go out there alone. What about the bear?"

"I can handle myself, and you need to stay inside. You said it yourself. You don't know how much you can take," zipping the bag shut, I walked out and shut the door.

Cautiously I walked away from the cabin and towards the fishing supplies. The sounds of birds and tree rustling would usually be calming, but now I feared these sounds could mask the bear's steps. As I got closer to the water, the musky smell came back, but looking around, the bear was nowhere to be seen. I had never expected a bear to smell like that one did.

I sat the emergency bag down and unzipped the opening. After each motion, I looked around at the tree line. Pulling the flare gun out, I opened the break and loaded a cartridge. As I set the now loaded gun onto the ground, its bright orange shell stood out against the grass.

"Please stay in the woods," whispering to myself as my eyes scanned the tree line. I finished putting the bait on the hook and cast the line into the water. I repeated the action for a second pole. Checking the treeline once again, it seemed like it was finally safe. I propped both poles up using sticks and sat on the ground. The bobbers on the lines sat motionless.

Inspecting the ground, I saw claw marks and prints from either Russel or the bear. The fact that the two sets of prints were identical worried me about Russel's situation. On the ground, you could clearly see the marks from Russel as he had turned to push the bear off. The marks seemed to scratch in an arc around a wet spot on the ground. The steps leading away had deeper slits where Russel's claws had dug in. At least Russel should be able to defend himself if he needed to.

Looking up, I could see one of the bobbers dipping into the water. Rushing to grab the pole, I pulled the line tight and could feel something pulling at the other end. Reeling the line in, the surface of the water broke. I had caught something, or at least hooked it! Reeling until the fish was out of the water, I held the line and looked at the green and white fish. But I didn't know what to do next; as a child, we had always done catch and release the handful of times we did fish. But this time, it was not an option.

The rest of the fishing gear was in a white bucket. Dumping the contents onto the ground, I filled the bucket with lake water, removed the hook from the fish, and dumped it in. I would ask Russel what to do later, assuming he was up to the task.

Rebating the hook, I cast it out once again. Taking a seat on the ground again. As I rested my hands on the ground and leaned back, my left hand felt wet when it touched the ground. Looking over and lifting my hand, I had been placed on the wet spot on the earth. Wiping my hand onto my pants, I tried to dry it as best as possible. Scooting roughly a foot from the soggy dirt, I leaned back and watched the bobbers.

It was a while without any action. Periodically I would check the treeline and confirm nothing was coming. I used my right hand to scratch at my feathers. Listening to the birds sing while doing so was an odd sensation. Would I eventually be to an eagle as Russel is to the bear? Indeed, my changes have been slower, but they were still creeping further and further.

"If Russel has a snout like a bear," I thought aloud, "does that mean I will-" I reached my left hand to my nose and felt the soft flesh. But as soon as I breathed in, I could smell my hand. The smell was putrid, and I quickly pulled it away. Coughing, I dipped my hand into the fish bucket. But the scent also emanated from my pants from wiping my hand on the legs. Leaning forward only brought them close enough to notice.

After washing my hand, I saw the same bobber dancing on the water. Grabbing the pole, I set the hook and slowly reeled another fish in. Placing the second smaller fish into the bucket, I began reeling in the other line and setting everything aside. I quickly threw the flare gun into the bag, grabbed the bucket, and started jogging to the cabin.

Opening the door, I called out for Russel, "You in here, Russel?" I heard a loud thumping as Russel walked out of the bedroom, still on all fours.

"Yeah, I'm still here, can't open the door knobs, can I?" Russel said before sitting on his hind quarters.

"You have a point there," I chuckled slightly, "But guess what I managed?" I slid the bucket towards Russ.

"Very nice. Are you going to clean them?" Russel said, walking closer to the bucket.

"Clean them?" I asked, "with what exactly?"

Russel chuckled, "You haven't done this before, have you? I can show ya, but we gotta get the knives from my bag."

Cleaning must mean something other than washing. "Cool, you do that, and I'm going to change. Got into something nasty out there."

As Russel walked back into the bedroom, I searched my bag for shorts or something. But I seemed only to have brought jeans with me. Figuring they would have to work, I dropped my current pants to the ground. As they hit the floor, I stepped out of the pant legs. Once both feet were planted on the floor, I felt like I began falling back, and my vision darkened. I swung my arms out to try and catch myself when my vision flicked back, and I was still standing, my arms held out.

"Woah," I shouted as a warm feeling came over my legs. Still standing with my arms out, legs squatted slightly, I felt like something behind me was moving. Slowly I stood up straight and brought my arms to my sides. Experimenting, I tensed my tailbone, and to my surprise, I felt a response. Slowly turning my head, I looked back to see a group of white feathers hanging from above my rear. In shock, I tensed my tailbone again and watched as they spread wide, forming an enormous fan of stiff, white feathers.

Russel walked in, "Got the stuff. You ready to cook?" Russel walked closer, "Oh, sorry. If I had known you were changing, I would have waited."

Silently I turned away from Russel, revealing my new feature.

"Oh, Dean, did that just..." Russel stuttered.

I quickly tried to put my jeans on. I was haphazardly shoving each foot through the holes before pulling the waist up. All was fitting until the jeans reached the feathers. Pulling harder, the feathers pushed up and sent a spark up my back. Letting the waist down slowly until it was only just touching the feathers. The waistline was much too short to zip or button. Frantically, I tried to adjust them in every which way, desperate for them to fit.

"Dean," Russel spoke softly as I continued to pull and tug at the garment, "Dean, just let them go, man. I don't think they are going to fit ya."

"What?" I shouted on the verge of crying, "they have to fit. I can't walk around without them!"

"Well, leave them for now. We can cut them to fit later, ok?" Russel sat back on his haunches, "It's not a big deal, remember? I haven't worn pants, and we've been fine."

Russel's words echoed back to what I thought by the water. It wasn't IF I would get to the same point as Russel, but when I did. Reaching back, I held one of the feathers in my hand. Feeling the feather move cemented that they were real and part of me now. Saying everything would be alright was easier before it happened to me.

Russel stood up and walked back toward the counter, "Come on, you got some fish to clean, Dean."

Slowly I walked with Russel, each step, I could feel them bob, and every movement of my hips swung them. Russel tried to explain what cleaning the fish meant, but I couldn't concentrate. My eyes kept creeping back to the tail feathers and their alien motion. As Russel guided me through gutting the fish, I remained silent.

I took a deep breath. Whatever happened while I changed felt unreal. Now, it felt like there was something else on my mind. Something... almost inhuman thinking my thoughts. Almost like whispers in my mind something else was in here with me.