Pine Peak Sanctuary Beary Happy

Casual sweats and tank top, bag

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It had been too long, way too long. Myla needed to spend time with the bears, more bears. She still didn't remember her shifts, and even though against humans she was doing fine against in the gym, it didn't feel like it was helping her at all.

Even with random texts to Locke, it was time to kick herself out of her normal gym bear mode. Locke had been incredibly patient with her finding her feet after her own incident, so, she was at the sanctuary.

She sat atop a table, munching on a thick piece of jerky. There was a second one next to her for Locke while she waited, her head bobbing to the music playing from her phone.

Locke spotted her from across the clearing, perched on top of a table like some kind of snack dragon, guarding a piece of jerky and nodding along to a muffled tune. He smiled to himself as he made his way over, slow and quiet, not wanting to break the rhythm she’d found.

He climbed up beside her without a word, helped himself to the second piece of jerky like it had his name on it. If it didn’t, well… she could bite him. It would be fair. Considering...

It was good for him to be here as well. Finally, come back to the one place where the bear in him could breathe despite the more-than-shaky history of his previous sleuth. The sanctuary still maintained its peace.

He glanced at her sideways, bumping her foot gently with his. "You ever sit on a bench like a normal person?"

She smelt him- still weird as hell to think of smelling other weres but she smelt him.Her head turned as she lowered the volume on her music while he perched up on the table with her and took the jerky.

Good thing that one was for him, otherwise, someone would have gotten bitten. Or punched.

Smiling at seeing him before a laugh left her, her body leaning into his casually, her bear immediately going forward to sniff at the other, "Normal is over rated, don't you think? We're not normal, " she said. It was an open ended vague motion between them.

Locke let out a soft laugh, as her shoulder pressed into his.

"Speak for yourself," he said, voice full of mock offense. "I’m extremely normal. Picture of stability. Beacon of good choices."

He didn’t move away, though. Didn’t even flinch when her bear brushed up against his—just let the contact happen, comfortable in that instinctive language between them. It was a relief, honestly, to feel her drop the guarded edge for once. Even if only a little.

His own bear nudged back. Not even pushy, just a nice, calm bear tap.

Locke tore off another bite of jerky and spoke around it. "But what's up?" he said, glancing sideways at her.

"You doing okay with shifting?" he asked, casual, like he was asking if she wanted to go for a walk.

Mylabear just lumbered against his, sniffing, puffing slightly at the bear. Familiar and unfamiliar all at once but the familiar won out as the bear sniffed and nudged gently into that tap.

Locke had her laughing, "Damn, makes one of us then shit, " she said laughing, smiling at that, her head shaking from his mock offense.

She took another bite, shrugging a little.

"Not too much...found out training at the gym is a lot harder when the smell is ten times more potent than what I was used to- sweaty gym socks really are a nightmare, " Myla said with a grimace on her face.

"Ish? I can't remember anything still...which...has maybe had me putting it off as much as possible, " she said with a small mumble. She didn't mind her bear at all, she just really hated the not remembering part. It left her too disoriented about what happened, and she didn't want to always bug Locke for shifting.

Locke grimaced in full at the mention of gym socks—an exaggerated face like he’d just licked a battery. Honestly, heightened senses were great in theory… until someone walked by smelling like a locker room had died.

Her bear bumped into his again, a little less tentatively this time. Good sign. The instinctive stuff was starting to come easier, even if the rest felt like a mess to her. He remembered that part well—the frustration of waking up sore, scattered, and blank.

He didn’t rush to fill the silence. Just sit with it, letting the wind through the trees talk for a bit. His bear stayed close to hers.

Eventually, he reached over and stole another piece of jerky, because if she hadn’t yelled at him yet, he might as well risk it.

"You’re not behind," he said finally, voice low, almost an afterthought. "Just working through it."

"It took Emmett and me over a year to even figure out what was happening. A lot of late-night naked time on the full moon and thinking we were being drugged." He chuckled because it wasn't funny and he was still a little messed up from that year of terror.

"Your look was my face, just last week- I'm sure someone hasn't cleaned out their locker in at least two weeks...it's bad, " she said with a grimace at that one.

The bear was relaxing, investigating. Curious over the other bear.

"I'ma eat your fingers next, " it was a playful joke given she'd brought some for him too; she just couldn't help herself.

She took another bite of her jerky, groaning, her head falling back.

"I feel like being drugged. Waking up naked. Leaves where they don't belong, and sometimes your stomach hurting and you're wondering what the other one ate to cause that level of stomach cramping to linger, " iron stomachs were's had though, that was for sure. Still, it was reassuring to know that she wasn't too behind even when she felt like she was lagging, and he felt stronger.

Locke snorted at the threat, waving a bitten-off piece at her.

He settled back again, shoes tapping together, bear still close. Hers was starting to sniff more confidently now. That was a good sign. Bears didn’t fake it. They either trusted or they didn’t, and hers was starting to lean in.

Her description of the aftermath had him chuckling under his breath. "Yeah," he said, dragging the word out. "Classic bear hangover. If it helps, you get better at steering… eventually. And you learn to stash clothes and pre-pack snacks so your stomach doesn’t feel like it got into a fistfight with a raccoon."

He glanced her way, more sideways than direct. "You’re doing fine, Myla. Seriously."

Myla smirked, smiling as he waved the bitten off piece at her.

She felt how her bear was growing more curious. Far more comfortable around the other bear, sniffing, approaching. He was like her, and that gave a sense of comfort.

"I leave stuff in my car, but more often I wake up in a tree or some weird dug out hole...worst was a briar bush like- how is that even comfortable? " It was not, maybe her bear was itchy and fell asleep on it?

Sighing, a small smile, "Thanks...I just want to get to where I don't feel small- like crap, you feel big compared to me, " she told him. The only way she could describe the strength difference. When she was so much on strength with her fighting, it was tricky to handle the new differences.

"Damn. Either your bear’s got a secret masochist streak, or she’s out here making bold life choices."

His bear gave hers a judgmental look, even though he had no furry legs to stand on. Locke Bear ended up ass up in too many wasp nest to ever judge.

About feeling small, Locke glanced over, the corner of his mouth tugging up. "Yeah, well… my bear’s packed on some pounds. He’s been around a while. Got that seasoned lumbering menace energy." Just don't call him fat. He was hefty.

He tapped his chest lightly, where all that weight supposedly lived. "It takes time. Right now, you’re still new. And being new sucks. Your human side’s trying to plan and think and be normal, and your bear’s like—‘what if we climb a tree and maul a watermelon?’ And they both gotta live in the same brain."

That got her laughing, really laughing, "I wonder. My best theory was that she scratched an itch? And just fell asleep there without a care? Best guess, I couldn't tell you, " she told him.

Her bear just tilted her ear, little ears flopping slightly; perhaps the bearest hint of a grin as if knowing.

"Seasoned...aye like a fighter who's an ol dog- or bear, in the ring, " she said, gently elbow nudge there to him for that. He had been at this longer, she was still finding her metaphorical feet here.

Oh, not a bad way to put it, "Not wrong...I notice her, feel some things...then feel she gets annoyed that I'd rather be training and not outside exploring something...how did you figure that balance out? "

She was stupidly pretty when she laughed. TOO BAD HE TURNED HER AND FUCKED THINGS UP.

Outwardly, though, Locke made a thoughtful sound, his fingers scraping to the wood of the bench seats.

"My bear’s kind of like a big kid," he said finally, shushing the challenging growl that reared in his head. "And I had to teach him some patience, which meant teaching myself patience too." Not exactly his strong suit.

"It was a lot of give and take. Like, we’ll do this human thing first, then we can go stomp through a river and roll around like an idiot. Doesn’t always feel balanced—work gets in the way, life stuff, whatever. But when I can, I give him full days. No phone, no people, just bear stuff. That helps."

Balance was a good way to look at it. Letting his bear take over built trust and understanding over time. At some point, he and the big guy learned to be chill when it was the others' turn to drive. Never perfect, always a work in progress. But better.

He was still easy to just hang around with, got her laughing again, and not feeling like she was screwing it all up somehow by being a piss poor bear right now who still woke up in a bush.

Now, she listened. Taking in what he said and making those mental notes. "A big kid that could win in a bear hug competition, " she teased, nodding as she listened.

Balance. Give and take.

It seemed far too wild of a notion to share her awake life that way with something that didn't even let her recall what happened. "So...doing things like this more, with you, will help? I mean I can already feel her being less...I don't know, tense? She doesn't feel grumpy, if that makes sense? She generally was grumpy out there, " didn't know how else to explain it to him but felt he might get it.

Her bear was wanting out, to actually meet another bear.

He leaned back on his palms, a crease forming on his forehead, suddenly in contemplation. "Y’know, I didn’t think about it ‘til now, but… I always had Emmett."

"That probably helped more than I ever realized. Settled the worst of the worst of the itch when we were together." Locke’s bear gave a low, agreeable rumble at the memory—old comfort, shared space.

"Someone told me once that shifters are drawn to groups. And bears aren’t pack animals, but we still get lonely. Being around your kind must settle our animals."

It was peculiar how shifters were this in-between thing. Different social structures and hierarchy than actual animals, while also being so separated from human norms. It was kinda cool and kinda sucked. Like having to learn a secret language that was made up and changing all the time.

He always had Emmett. Yea, bear brothers probably made being a bear easier, come to think of it.

"Huh...I've heard of groups...are there any bear groups around? " Would that be something that helps maybe? She wasn't entirely sure, she mostly just trusted Locke and his advice as her last were friend left and she had gotten terrorized by a vampire.

She could feel her bear, lazy, lumbering. Content at being closer to another, even if she often was content to be on her own.

Locke’s mouth pulled to the side, somewhere between a wince and a shrug. "There’s one up in Graupel Canyon. But the King there is... not friendly. Doesn’t take kindly to rogue bears wandering in."

He looked down for a second, fingers curling loosely against his knee. "My old group lost someone who crossed into his territory a couple of years back. The King killed him, went to jail for a bit, and is back out there." Both Locke and his bear growled.

There was a long breath, the shock of the memory still stung, even if the edges had dulled. "The other group was the one I was in, but it's since broken apart. Emmett and I weren't happy—too many shifting priorities. It was rough, but I don't regret walking away."

Myla listened, and damn she did not realize that someone would kill another for simply crossing into their territory. It was shocking. Her face said it all for that one.

If he didn't protest it, she'd reach over, taking his hand that curled on his knee, trying to offer comfort, "I'm sorry, " she told him, her voice softer. Less joking and playful as before, because she truly was that he lost someone dear.

"Have you and Emmett thought of making your own group? You two are pretty easy to get on with, " she stated, "And honestly, sometimes the best choices, are the hardest ones. Ones that still leave it's own mark, but you get the experience that came from it all, " she told him, a small smile on her face as she looked at him.

His fingers stayed curled for a beat, then relaxed into hers—slow, careful. Like it had caught him off guard.

Her words hit home in a way he didn’t expect, that gentler tone unraveling something tight behind his ribs.

He didn’t answer right away.

"I’ve thought about it," he admitted eventually. "Haven't said it yet to Emmett, but I bet he wonders too. There was a lot wrong with Pine Peak, but I'd be a big fat liar if I knew how to be better."

Starting something new, like a group? That’s the easy part. It was staying together that got messy. Locke didn't feel like any type of leadership material; he just knew what he didn't like. Barely half the puzzle.

He gave Myla a tired smile. "Maybe one day."

Myla held his hand, just there. Present. Not wanting him to feel alone.

The answer was a little bit of a surprise, before a bit of a smirk, "There's something wrong with everything...even in the fighting world there's shit wrong...I imagine there's things wrong in any group if you look hard enough. You just learn from it, know you want to do better and so you be better, " Myla told him. It was how her drive worked.

Nodding, "Well...group, no group...you have me and Emmett, not going anywhere, " she promised him.

Myla was too kind. Locke was rarely this sappy, but it felt like the way to be right now. So he just sat in that rare kind of quiet that didn’t feel heavy. Just real.

Her words earned a soft huff of laughter from him, more exhale than sound. "You make it sound a lot simpler than it feels." But even still, he couldn't argue. Learning and moving on was the only way this worked.