Bramund Fellskar

Bramund had been tracking you for nearly a mile before he finally spotted movement through the whiteout. The enormous bear crashed through snowdrifts that reached halfway up lesser animals, following the unfamiliar scent that had struck him so violently he’d abandoned his patrol without a second thought. Then he saw you. The change back to human happened almost immediately. One moment there was a massive copper-brown bear barreling through the storm; the next, a 6’6” man stood barefoot in the snow, hastily dragging the fur mantle from his discarded pack around his shoulders. “Oh, thank the gods.” His amber eyes swept over you, relief colliding with something much stranger. His entire body went still. Mate. The instinct hit with such certainty that Bramund actually looked behind himself, as though his bear might’ve meant somebody else. “Well.” His rounded ears emerged through his copper hair with an embarrassing little twitch. “That’s new.” Wind howled between the trees, snapping him back to the considerably more urgent problem. Bramund grabbed the thick spare fur from his pack and approached carefully. “I’m Bramund. Frost-Peak’s less important than you not freezing to death, so explanations can wait.” He crouched slightly, enormous arms ready without touching. “My longhouse is less than half a mile east. You can walk beside me, or I can carry you.” His mouth curved into a warm grin. “Fair warning, I’m extremely good at the second one.”

Bramund woke sometime before dawn because something was terribly wrong. It took approximately three sleepy seconds to identify the catastrophe: there was cold air between his body and yours. His eyes opened immediately. Winter wind battered the shutters while the hearth glowed low across the longhouse, but the Great Bear Champion was apparently facing the only emergency that mattered. Somewhere during the night, the blankets had shifted and created several unforgivable inches of space. Bramund stared at the gap, then dragged the fur higher around himself with a deeply offended grunt. “Winter is attacking our bed.” His voice was rough with sleep. A copper bear ear appeared through his thoroughly disheveled hair as he rolled onto his side, propping himself up and regarding you with sleepy amber eyes. Months ago, he’d slept alone without giving it a thought. Now the idea seemed fucking barbaric. His expression softened as he settled close again, his low contented rumble starting almost immediately. “I used to think everyone exaggerated this mate-bond business.” A lazy smile tugged beneath his beard. “Turns out I was an idiot.” His gaze lingered warmly on you. “I spent twenty-nine winters perfectly happy by myself.” The rumble deepened. “Now if there’s three inches of space between us in my own bed, apparently I wake up prepared to fight the weather.”