The Green Lights

I loved my mothers’ stories. When we are laying side by side in the den, the blizzards howling and treacherous around us, the snow creating drifts and burying any sign of life above ground so that when we emerge it would be a blank canvas, I feel like we are the only ones inhabiting the land, our private, safe home.

I look up at my mother, oblivious to the drop of milk gathering on my chin. My mother laughs and shakes her head slowly, her ears flicking backwards to listen to the howling winds as she licks my face clean, her rough tongue pulling gently at my fur. I try to shake her off, but it’s all in jest, I secretly love her fussing over me. I know it won’t last, I am almost two, she won’t let me eat meat yet, she says that I should wait as long as possible before needing real food. I know why, I was…I am scared a little, but I won’t let her know that, I can’t.

I can remember when my mother was what you would call normal, not plump, not slim just… normal. Now though, as I strive to get as close to her as possible, so close that her fur slightly covers a part of me, I can feel how tightly her skin is pulled over her bones, how she occasionally shakes with fatigue, and the cold that creeps through to her skin. She isn’t as strong as she used to be, and I know that when I need meat, she will eat even less, our home is a cold, white wasteland.

Looking down at me with nothing but adoration in her eyes, she cocks her head slightly as she watches me. “Are you all full up, my dear?” she waits expectantly before she returns to cleaning my soft, downy fur. I’m proud of it because it’s whiter than any fresh snow I have ever seen. I’m spotless, innocent to the world, I know that it won’t stay that way though. Many of my family’s fur had gone yellow or stained from blood that they hadn’t bothered cleaning off. That would never be me.

My stomach still ached with hunger, I haven’t felt full in months, but I twitch my nose and swivel my ears so that I can nuzzle her. “Yes mother, I’m full, thank you”. I’m sure she knows I’m lying when the faint rumbles of my stomach give me away. I always try to make myself smaller, curl into myself to drown out their betraying growls but it’s like an unspoken secret between us. I will never tell for fear of her, and she will never bring it up to let me continue giving her hope.

She told me I should have siblings, that she had fond memories of them all even though they never made it through the winters. I had though, and there were only a few months left before food would supposedly be better here. I only had a few months to put up with this nauseating feeling. She asks every day if I’m full, warm… happy. She’s worried for me, I feel worried for me too, I watch as the hours she leaves me alone to hunt become longer and longer. The air grows colder as our shelter begins to fail us, but neither of us can maintain it, I’m too small, she’s too weak. Some days she will return shaking as she walks, her fur heavy with a mixture of water and ice from swimming to look for food, each time she returns she will tell me how everything’s okay. I can hear her at night though, her whines breaking my heart as she prays to the stars that no more of our boundary would break away into the ocean, this was happening more often. Our territory was melting, shrinking ever smaller with every passing month.

This leads me back to where I began; I love my mothers’ stories, stories passed down to her from our ancestors, tales of ice so thick it was unbreakable, snow thick enough to bury you, food in such abundance that we never needed, never became desperate. Bellies were always full and even the seals scattered at the first sign of us, now they barely move until we are practically next to them, they know we are slower, weaker now. I was even told to be wary over other bears and animals here, if I strayed too far from her when I was younger then they would have tried to take me, they never would have dared before. I had to hide from my uncle once, he no longer saw us as family. I know it broke my mothers’ heart, but she just said, ‘he made his choice’, so we no longer see him as family, just another threat, another danger for our day-to-day life.

I can remember one particularly dismal evening where mother tried to cheer me up, she told me that her grandmother once owned a territory that you couldn’t cover in a whole day and nights travels. My eyes were fit to burst when she told me, I could imagine myself running free, no cares or expectations, just me and the fresh snow crunching beneath my paws. I must look miserable or angry… or both as she’s stopped cleaning me and is just staring at me now, a mixture of sorrow and concern in her face. I get up and shake the frost from my fur as I stretch my legs. I swear the den has shrunk, or it might just be that our time in this haven is almost up.

Mother uses her broad paws to pull me back in close, to keep each other warm. “Do you remember the story I told you last season my love, the one you loved so much that you played my part for an entire week”. She doesn’t look at me when she asks this, and as I look up, I notice her eyes are duller, her fur thinner. I don’t know how I missed it before, but she looks older, she should have years left, but she looks like they’ve been used up.

“The one about you and the two-legged creature, how could I ever forget… that was one of the most exciting stories you’ve ever told me! And the pretty green light, oh how I wish I could see it like you did.” I look wistfully up at the icy ceiling, imagining I can see the nights sky illuminated by a beautiful shimmering green band. In my head, I can see the wishing band every single night, that’s what helps me to fall asleep most nights. “Do tell it again mother please, one last time, I promise to listen”.

Chuckling to herself, mother nuzzled me with her nose for a moment, ruffling my fur before sitting up, pulling me closer until I was sat between her forelegs to tell the tale again.

“When you were very new, still in my tummy even, I had to find a new den. Our old one was crumbling, another victim of the melt. I had only travelled for around a mile when I found the perfect spot. I dug and I dug, until I had made the most beautiful den. It was far bigger than this one, it was one fit for a family. I had only had several days there when I smelled the most awful smell I had ever sensed before, it was burning and acrid, it was so strong that I couldn’t smell anything else. I poked my head up to look and saw the smoke in the distance, I saw where it was, so I went to take a look, I had to make sure that there was nothing strange or dangerous around for when you came along. I travelled quickly, my feet barely touching the snow, I felt like I could fly.”

“Oh, I so wish I could fly, I would find a new territory with all the snow and the food in the world and call it home.” I sigh deeply, imagining what it would be to fly whilst she nudges me with her paw.

“Come now, listen my love. As I was saying, I went to look and what I saw was a small herd of two-legged creatures, there must have been at least three of them in strange dens which flapped around in the wind. They were crouched around a dancing orange light, that was the source of the smell. It popped and made strange noises, a part of it spat at one of the two legged creatures, it did the funniest dance but seemed hurt. I was curious so I moved closer, I didn’t know what these things were, but I had to know, to make sure you would be safe. I got close enough to see their faces, they were very strange, they didn’t have a single feather or patch of fur on their skin, they saw me walking over and grabbed these stick looking things, pointing them towards me.

I kept walking, it was my territory, near my den, this was my area they were in, but they didn’t retreat. All I wanted to do was either make sure they weren’t a threat, or if they were, to scare them away.” Mothers’ claws gouged the ice beneath her, this part made her angry before too. I placed my head upon her paw to soothe her as she continued.

“Instead of leaving, one of the sticks made a clicking noise before it boomed, echoing in the silence. A sharp sting followed by an intense burning feeling whizzed across my leg.” She looked at her leg distantly “I froze, a copper tang crept through the sour air, fresh blood, but it wasn’t theirs… it was mine. Looking down I could see a crimson line staining my white fur and pooling between my claws, the pain didn’t register much until I began to run, then the agony set in. I took to running on three legs, tiring quickly, the two-legged creatures not far behind me, communicating loudly, more clicking, more booms. I ran until I felt my lungs burning and my vision went hazy, I ran until I’d hit the far end of my territory. I set myself down to lick my wounds when I felt you moving. I felt so angry, I had to protect you and these creatures were now putting my territory at risk, if that was jeopardised then so were we.

I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I knew, I could hear the snow crunching and my leg was stiff with both the cold, pain, and dried blood. I couldn’t stand, I just lay there panting the pain away as a two-leg walked towards me, pausing to point one of the sticks at me. I mustered my strength and pulled myself up to stand on my hind legs. It was risky as you were fully exposed within my belly but it’s the only thing I had left to do to try and scare them off. I roared from the bottom of my chest, a full lunged roar which any bear would be proud of. The stick shook in its paws as it backed up, but it wasn’t me that scared him off, it must have seen you as it stared at my stomach where you were growing. It lowered the stick and walked backwards slowly, never taking its eyes from me. I roared one last time to get my message across before limping away to find the den we have now. The night I finished it, the most beautiful green lights lit up the nights sky, I wished for you, for you to live and be safe. I won’t be here forever but whenever you see the green lights, remember me. Wish your deepest wish and believe.”

I dream of those green lights.