Today's OneWord: Cub
The bear cub clung tightly to the rotting mouth of the tree, a slight trace of honey noticeable on its jowl. None of us tried to approach it - it was clearly scared, and very, very hungry. The ranger with us fidgeted with his walkie talkie before slipping behind another tree to talk with a cohort.
"Where's its mom?" my son asked, practically attached to the crook of my elbow.
"I don't know, Jim," I replied, "but we mustn't interfere."
"Where's its mom?" my son asked, practically attached to the crook of my elbow.
"I don't know, Jim," I replied, "but we mustn't interfere."
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