Love and the bear arrived in the south, pausing to stare at the green fog before setting camp in a clearing shielded from the thickest vapors. The bear had long washed its soggy fur, looking remarkably well-kept for a wild creature. Nearby, Love wove her raven-black hair into two long ponytails. Though her ragged clothes were still full of holes, they had a renewed look; she had reinforced her leather frame with salvaged plates of hardened bear hide. Because the leather was too tough for her needle to pierce, she used soft scraps of leather as an adhesive, pinning the heavy plates together with sharp shards of bone and claw. Her mundane outfit was finally transforming into a war attire. By placing hardened leather for protection and soft hide for mobility, she created a suit that—while not as elegant as that of a master craftsman—was practical and ready for a fight.
Love sat on a nearby stone as she worked on weaving her pigtails, her hands busy but her mind elsewhere. She scoured her plan for any flaws, determined to execute it flawlessly. She shot a glance at the bear, who was licking his paws repeatedly while adjusting to his new scent; it seemed it had been a long time since his last bath, if he'd ever had one at all. Her gaze wasn't one of affection, however; she was gauging his combat strength and wondering if he was truly ready. During their journey south, they had faced everything from lone predators to overwhelming hordes, yet they had toppled the odds every time. She had to admit, she'd missed the bond of a companion. Satisfied he was up to the task, she walked over and gave his head a soft, encouraging tap. It was time to pitch her tent for a good night's sleep; worrying about tomorrow would only strain her heart and leave her fatigued.
Love had long grown accustomed to the company of the bear. On nights like these, she only pitched her tent without making a formal camp like she did when she was hunting solo, because the bear was there to protect her. While the bear would grow weary, while he watched her alone; when he wanted to sleep, he would give her a warm pat, signaling it was her turn to keep watch. This was the most effective way to monitor her surroundings—something an inanimate object could never do. While the rush of fatigue upon waking might make another person fall back asleep, it wasn't like that for Love. Throughout her stay in this world, she had grown used to short naps. Although sleepy upon waking, she never turned her mind off completely; instead, she remained in a state of restful alert.
However, Love had sufficient rest before the warm pat of the bear came-signaling their change of shifts. As she watched the bear rest his head, Love began preparing for the battle she was about to wage on the saber-toothed snake, it seemed fate had brought them together once again, just as her previous plan when fighting the bears, this plan could also be divided into three major parts namely,
Bait and run: Love was to hold her ground in a designated direction while the bear launched an attack into the poisonous mist. She hoped the bear would serve as bait, drawing the snake toward her. This plan wasn't made out of spite or because she viewed the bear as a disposable weapon; far from it, she viewed him as her ace in the hole. Although she hesitated to use her best asset for the opening strike, she had to. The bear could hold its breath for a long time, whereas Love would quickly become exhausted and breathless, leading to weak attacks. The bear was resilient enough to do what she couldn't. However, it was still vital for them to reunite so they could launch a joint assault and execute the next stage of the plan.
Equalize: The need to equalize was vital for Love and her companion. While she hoped they could dent the snake's scales, she reminded herself of its durability; it had once fallen from a modern dam and survived the descent without anything breaking its fall.
Her experience fighting three grizzlies—creatures far weaker than this serpent—haunted her. Back then, her spear had been useless, managing only superficial scratches and a ragged shaving of fur. Tempering her expectations, she pivoted to the "equalizing" plan. She hoped the bear's brute force would slam the snake's protruding spinal bones tips that were—sharp as an uncaged rib—against the floor. If they shattered, she would use the jagged fragments to fashion an improvised dagger, betting that only the snake's own bone was hard enough to pierce its hide.
Morning came as she tried to remember the last part of her plan. The bear woke from its slumber, and Love tossed it a piece of cold beef jerky. Although the bear loved hot, greasy jerky, it didn't complain and ate the snack quickly. Love approached the bear and briefed it on its task; with that, the bear proceeded toward the poisonous cloud. Before disappearing into the mist, it shot one last glance at her.
Love genuinely hoped the bear would be safe, but her mind quickly drifted to the final objective.
To Win: There was no room for failure. First, if they failed, Willow would not survive the fog. Second, the snake would be on guard against future intruders, making this plan impossible to repeat. Third, failure meant death; if they couldn't escape the snake or overpower it in battle, they would be killed.
They had to win. Love scanned the area, half-expecting the bear to retreat, though she knew the snake would not be far behind it. A few moments later, as she watched the fog with bated breath, a figure finally emerged. Love sighed with initial relief, but as she looked closer, her expression turned grim. She let out a curse: "Shit."