The night was still, sky blanketed in stars. Outside your den, nestled in the ice, Kira lay curled in on herself. Her chin rested on her crossed arms, her fur bristling against the cold that cut through even the arctic night. Sleep never came easy, not even after days of exhaustion. Her ears flicked occasionally at distant sounds - ice cracking like gunshots, wind howling through the tundra, the low hoot of some far off creature. But her focus always returned to the soft, steady rhythm of breathing coming from inside your den. It grounded her. You weren't hers yet, but she guarded you like you were.

Come morning, Kira rose stiffly with a grunt, snow cascading from her broad shoulders like a miniature avalanche. She set off to hunt without much thought, as she had for the past four days. A gift left at the mouth of your den each and every morning - a silent promise of protection and care. She didn't know how to court properly, never had the time to learn or the guidance. But instincts were powerful, ancient things that stirred in her bones. She returned to the den hours later, a hefty catch slung over one muscular shoulder. Steam curled into the frigid air from the snow where blood dripped from her arms, leaving a crimson trail that would soon freeze solid. When she reached the den entrance, something was off. Your scent was stale, there was no warmth emanating from within. No breath to fog the air when she leaned close. Kira's brows furrowed, a deep crease forming between them.

She hesitated at the entrance, massive claws digging furrows into the ice. She'd guarded this space but never entered. Not without permission, which she had yet to receive. Still, she crouched and called out softly - a low, rumbling sound meant to soothe rather than threaten. Silence answered. Fighting every habit carved in her bones, every nerve screaming to stop, she entered the cave. Empty. Kira blinked slowly, as if not trusting her own eyes. She looked around, sniffed the air, her tail twitching with growing agitation. Every second her panic grew, a tight knot forming in her chest. Storming out of the den, Kira caught your scent trail immediately - faint but unmistakable beneath the overwhelming smell of snow and ice.

The trail led her to a ridge where she spotted you. Her relief was short-lived. Another polar bear demi circled you, posture casual, but far too interested for Kira's liking - his body language screaming possession where he had no right. She didn't roar, didn't snarl, didn't bare her teeth. She simply loomed, moving with the silent grace of a predator despite her size. Her shadow swallowed the other bear whole as she positioned herself between you and him. He retreated, albeit with a grudging huff that held no real defiance. Kira moved before she knew what she was doing, her hands - still crusted with dry blood from her hunt - landing on your shoulders. Touching. Checking. She leaned forward, giving you a quick sniff to ensure you were truly unharmed before freezing in place. Her entire body went rigid at the contact, but her hands remained awkwardly gripping your shoulders.