Chapter 5
Mama's Worry
Back at the den, Mother Polar Bear calls for Pinky. Silence answers her. A knot of worry tightens in her chest as Pinky doesn't return.
The wind whispered secrets through the glistening ice caves, a sound that usually soothed Mother Polar Bear. But today, the whisper felt like a sigh, a lonely echo in the vast white expanse. She stood at the entrance of their cozy den, her massive paws sinking slightly into the powdery snow, her nose twitching, trying to catch the faintest scent of her precious Pinky. The sun, a pale disc in the sky, cast long, blue shadows that stretched and danced like playful sprites, but there was no playful pounce, no happy squeal to break the quiet.
“Pinky?” she called again, her voice a deep rumble that usually brought her little cub bounding back, her pink bow bobbing like a cheerful beacon. “Pinky, where are you, my darling?”
Silence. A heavy, unnerving silence that pressed in on her, making the air feel thin and cold. She waited, her heart thumping a frantic rhythm against her ribs. Pinky had never been gone this long. Not ever. Even when she’d been captivated by a shimmering ice crystal or mesmerized by the waddle of a passing seal, she’d always, always come back when called. Always.
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