With terrorized trepidation, I tread through the brush, expecting a bear behind every branch. Branches crack to my left. My eyes roll quietly to look. Oh shit. It's a bear.
It's a fucking brown bear. Why isn't he moving?
He still isn't moving.
It's a fucking brown bear. Why isn't he moving?
He still isn't moving.
WHY ISN'T HE MOVING? Oh. It's a tree stump. It's a fucking tree stump.
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