Page 10 of Polar Destiny
"I'm going for a run -" I'm pretty sure that means he needs some bear time - "...and Ràn will be here in a moment to joinyou."
"I don't need two babysitters," Iprotest.
"No, but they need one," Torben smirks, and I laugh. Húnn scowls at us. "They have a bit of a brotherly thing going on, and it sometimes ends infights."
"Scuffles," Húnn intersects. "Slightdisagreements."
"Rampages."
"Arguments."
"Wars."
Before Húnn can come up with another term for his apparently minor disagreements with his brother, Ràn comes in, slamming the door against the wall. Apparently, he's not friends with the door. Or the wall. Is he friends with anyone? Judging from his permanent scowl, notlikely.
"I'll leave you to it," Torben says and starts taking off his shirt.Seriously?
Eyes fixed on Húnn, I try to ignore the sound of a zipper. Ràn flops down next to his brother and takes two skewers at once. They disappear quicker than Torben can getundressed.
When the door falls shut behind the Viking-bear, I breathe a sigh of relief. Now I canrelax.
Two almost identical pairs of eyes are looking at me. Maybenot.
While Ràn is eating- devouring - the rest of the skewers, I look out of the window, wishing I was out there. The wind has blown away the clouds and the sun has come out to play. The forest is shimmering with feathery snow on the trees. Instead I'm stuck inside with two giant bear brothers. Húnn and Ràn. So similar, and yet so different. Húnn is chuckling while watching his brother eat. Ràn's scowl has disappeared a little, but I have yet to see him crack asmile.
Húnn is the darker one of the two, but only by a few shades. They match each other in bulkiness, although at least Húnn is wearing a shirt. Ràn seems to have a difficult relationship with clothes. He's even worse than Torben. If only he was bad looking, then my gaze wouldn't be drawn to his muscly chest again and again. I imagine Húnn looks the same under his button upshirt.
"You're such a glutton," Húnn complains. His brother doesn't reply, but reaches for the next, and the final skewer. A second later, the meat has gone. Satisfied, Ràn leans back, the faintest trace of a smile flirting with his lips. Without his scowl his face is beautiful. Strong lines, an angular jaw, a perfect nose, the soft outlines of where a beard could be... Stop drooling, Isla. He's a bear. A big, bad bear who has humans for breakfast. Who says that wasn't human flesh on thoseskewers?
"Ehm, what meat did you cook for us?" I askinnocently.
"That was squirrel, not much else out there on this island," Húnn says with a cheekygrin.
"It's one of myfavourites."
Ràn suddenly boxes his brother in the side. Húnngrimaces.
"Ok, it wasn't squirrel," he admits. "I just wanted to see your reaction. But you didn’t react. You’re not very girly, did you knowthat?”
Now I’m the one to box him. Grinning, Ràn leans back against the wall, stretching his long legs until his feet are close to the fire. We sit insilence.
"So what do you guys do when you're not running around as bears?" I ask, trying to start a conversation. Not that I have much hope of achieving thatgoal.
"Talk," Ràn says, almost giving me a heart attack. Ràn talking about talking - the gods of irony must be having a fieldday.
"Drink," Húnnadds.
"Nothing else? What aboutgames?"
"Yeah, those too. Usually drinking games."Figures.
"Read."
Again, Ràn shocks me. I didn't expect that. But then... it's kind of cute, although I'm having a hard time imagining him with a book in his massivehands.
Our conversation seems to end before it even starts. I look out of the window again, wondering if Torben is having fun running around in the snow. Finn must be out theretoo.
And I'm stuck with the boringtwo.
