Right to a Bear's Arms, Ch. 3 (Patreon)

"...got to take it easy!" came the sharp voice of Sergeant Rico. "You're going to tear out the stitches again."

Hera gave a grunt, noncommittal and gruff, sitting on a bench against the back wall.

"If you don't stick to the exercises on your sheet, how are you expecting to heal?" he demanded. "You want me to stick you on bedrest again, Doring?"

She fixed him with a gaze with an all-too-clear meaning.

His hackles raised again but he just sighed and rubbed the back of his head. "Look, I'm really trying, Doring. You remember Basic, you got a profile now and you need to stick to it." He showed her the clipboard again, covered with highlighted lines and x's. She bitterly looked away. The list of approved activities was abysmally small. "I figured the punching bag would get out some of the stress but you just seem to get angrier on it."

"Sorry," she said flatly, again.

"I know you're sorry," the former Drill Sergeant said, kneeling down in front of her. "I get it. You've been through a lot, and you're frustrated."

"You don't know half of it," she growled out quietly, thick accent coloring her words.

"Doring, I got blown out of a truck by a landmine. I fell down the stairs in college and broke my tail." He fixed her with his eyes and made her look away. She didn't like direct eye contact. "I know exactly how you feel. You want to just get back into the swing of things but your body needs time and gentle management to heal first."

"You could at least let me run," she shot back. "Running clears my head. I cannot do lifts, I cannot do treadmill, I cannot do squats. All I do is sit in room with counselor and tells me it is okay to be sad and traumatized. Reminding me everyday." She felt herself snarling and clamped her jaws shut.

"Doring, if I let you run, you'll..."

"Tear stitches out, yes I know!" she snapped. "But if I don't keep up workouts then I risk losing muscle tone, and then is sharp hill downwards. Working out makes me feel better, but you do not let me work out the way I need."

"Doring, your Fury is showing," the man warned softly.

She closed her bright yellow eyes tightly and took several deep breaths. When she reopened them, the slight red haze had lifted and she looked at her old friend sadly, tiredly. "Sorry," she said.

"Damnit, Doring, I know you're sorry," he said and groaned, rubbing the back of his head, dark fur glistening in the light of the room. "Hell, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I can't do more for you but to make sure you're healthy. The therapist says you just fired another personal trainer, you're refusing counseling, and all you do when you are at home, from what I see, is stare off into space and make yourself miserable. They're gone...and I'm sorry." He gently put a paw on her shoulder and she rolled it off. He sighed again. "I'll let you have some free time today, all right? Call me when you want to head home."

She watched him walk away, feeling regretful that she had snapped at him twice today. She had almost torn his head off earlier. It wasn't like her to be this emotional, but the last few weeks were nothing like what she was used to. She felt like she was stuck in a whirlpool pulling her steadily downwards. She glanced at the sheet he had left her, reading off what exercises could be done. She hated them all. None of it burned the way she needed to. Running, restricted; heavy weights, restricted. On and on, down the page she read, everything she felt like she could possibly have been able to distract herself with, restricted. She hung her head and put the clipboard off to the side, raking her clawed fingers back through her mane of hair.

Maybe the only thing to do was to try meditating. Her old squad buddies had told her how important it was to center yourself when you felt too chaotic. It wouldn't fix anything, but it helped to reestablish ones own location within their own body, like finding a life raft while adrift in a stormy sea. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and thought. What was that practice again?

She thought of a cave, a dark one, so dark that even her eyes couldn't see in it. She could feel the walls, cool against her paws, not moist, but not entirely dry. She had a backpack on, weighing her down, so heavy that it was uncomfortable. Her side, arm, and leg burned dully. She started to walk, the cave floor smooth underneath her foot pads, claws scraping for purchase as she climbed steadily and slowly up an unseen incline. The backpack grew heavier, hurting her back. Her head was heavy, it was so hard to see, and everything she could hear was overpowered by her own heartbeat. Memories threatened to leak out of the backpack, making her eyes mist, her footing unsure. She tried to adjust the straps, it only made it heavier. Placating the memories only made them hurt more. Ignoring them just made the pack press down harder. She couldn't keep walking. She fell. The backpack was crushing her, and she couldn't move. She wanted to open it, unpack it, throw out everything inside. She didn't need it. But what was inside was a gift, and throwing it away would destroy it, make it seem as if she didn't treasure it. But it hurt so much. She needed help, but she couldn't see anyone, didn't hear or smell anyone. She was alone. She just wanted...a hand. Free, unintrusive, open, kind. She imagined reaching slowly up, to take that hand.

"Excuse me?"

A new smell came to her then, overpowering those of sweat, fur, metal, and energy drinks. It was a softer scent, like flowers and calmer things, making her nose tingle and itch a little. Most of it was like leather, copy paper, and a duller, sweeter scent that didn't smell much like any Anthro she could recognize. She glanced slowly up, eyes opening and wet, her gaze still distant. She saw a pair of small, almost adorable if faded black and white shoes, long socks rolled up to just above the ankle, and very long, pale-skinned legs. They had virtually no body hair on them, or they were so fine that they didn't stand out. What animal was that?

She glanced up more, seeing a loose-fitting tanktop and shorts flowing seamlessly up a trim and athletic, if slender upper body, to a short, tied back mane of coal-black hair. A Human was looking at her, a hesitant but friendly smile on his only slightly stubbly face, and he had his phone taped to his arm. Earbuds hung off his shoulders, most likely linked in underneath his shirt so that they wouldn't get in the way. She leaned back a little, he was shorter than her despite her still sitting down. His eyes were a bright blue, crystal like, and shimmered with youthful energy, positivity and a zest for life that had not been crushed or pulverised yet. She hated that. Mostly because she wanted that back. He had his hand out to her, invitingly, open and unintrusive.

"Hi!" he said, voice lilted by a slight accent that she couldn't identify. Then again, Humans had a much different way of pronouncing things and she hadn't gotten used to seeing them as often, even since the Act had been established. "I hope I'm not bothering you, you seemed pretty deep."

She blinked slowly, not responding beyond her ears slowly swiveling forwards to give him her attention. He seemed to recognize that, his smile wider, but not showing teeth. Odd, humans usually didn't know that teeth were a sign of aggression to Anthros. His stance was laid back, calm, unruffled. Most of the few humans she had met were so stiff. He even rolled his stance back a pace, giving her the space she needed but maintaining himself in the conversation. His hand lowered to his size, still palm facing up.

"I was wondering if I could bother you for a favor," he said when she met his eyes again, chuckling awkwardly. He had a cute smile, if she bothered herself to think about it. It was probably an act. She grunted, noncommittal but not ignoring him or shooting him down. "Could you spot me?" he asked, pointing with his other hand towards a machine nearby. It was a bit big for him, a paddle-bar meant to flex and tone the pectorals, core, and shoulders.

She looked back at his face, blinking softly, and then, down at his hand again. It had small scars on it, palm and wrist, his fingers long, smooth, and pink. A single ring stood out on his ring finger, plain and black. It was the wrong hand to signify that he was married, so it was just decoration. Was he keeping it open as if she was going to sniff it? Most Anthros didn't feel the need to do that, but she found herself leaning forwards a bit and inhaling a short few times. He smelled exactly like before, hand unaggressive and unassuming. He lifted it slowly at the same time, and she recognized an old, formal greeting.

On instinct, she proffered her own hand towards him, but then flinched when he seemed to reach for it. Right, human ritual was to shake hands, not sniff them. But he seemed to catch his mistake and instead just kept his hand out, and leaned down himself, still a good few feet away, and made a point to sniff at her own wrist. Not that his olfactory senses would be strong enough to pick her scent up from that far away. Satisfied, she turned her palm to the side and moved it closer to his own. He mirrored her, and their palms met. His skin was warm against her paw pads, and as he wound his longer fingers against her own, her paw still engulfing it entirely, he didn't surrender to her obvious physical superiority in size and strength but didn't try and fight it either. Her ears twitched and her eyebrow rose an inch higher.

"Sure," she said at last to his question, loosening her grip. She made to stand, then growled and looked down at her right leg as it twinged. Without looking, she reached to the side, paw returned to her, and plucked up both of her crutches. Tucking them underneath her arms, she levied herself up onto her paws. Glancing down, she realized she towered over him by a good bit, he barely came up to the bottom of her collarbone as she had to lean over to fit onto the crutches, but he didn't seem intimidated. At least, he didn't let himself appear so, his scent spiked a tiny bit with anticipation and she recognized the flight or fight response in his eyes. 

He didn't expect her to lunge, but he couldn't help the urge to flee. She felt...bad about it. That was different. Anthros had an instinct to guide them in all social situations, while humans put more depth into emotional strength and lived by controlling their environment, rather than themselves. She had never once felt guilty for being so large compared to others, she wasn't even as tall as some Ursin could grow, but next to him, she understood that without years of understanding how Anthros of all species had evolved, she would look rather intimidating.

His eyes however weren't entirely fearful. He had an earnest look to him, looking at her without any prejudice or expectation other than managing his own. He kept his stance neutral, and above all else, he gave her space. More than anything, she appreciated that. Everyone was all into her space anymore, ever since she had come home. He kept a few feet between them at all times as if understanding that. For the moment, it distracted her.

He beamed up at her, and then led the way over to the machine, her crutches clicking along behind him as she only used them to lean on, her feet still solid on the ground. They were a medical requirement as of late, and if she wanted to earn more intense workouts, she had to show she was willing to put up with them. Also, getting up or down was sometimes more difficult now, so there was that.

Plopping down on the black leather seat and settling his back against the machine, the Human placed both forearms, one on each side, on the padded arm bars above him. His hands barely reached a quarter of the way up, and she grunted a bit. If he tried to pull the bars forwards, he could overextend a muscle, or worse not even move them, if he was only using his wrists. She shook her head. "You're too short. Adjust the seat."

Blinking, he glanced at the seat, then at the bars, and laughed. "Oh, yeah!" he said, voice full of embarrassed mirth. "Forgot." He slid back out of the seat, kneeled down to crank up the chair a few notches higher, and then climbed back in. That was better, she thought. He placed his forearms once again against the bars and pushed experimentally. The weights behind the machine clicked, letting him know that it was going to work. He nodded, and then looked back up at her. His legs hung off the end of the chair a little now, and he was level with her chest once again. His cheeks flushed a bit as he realized this too, but she didn't mind. At that eye level, anyone was going to look.

She clicked around behind the machine. "What weight?" she asked.

"Go for...80 for now. I've only got the weak wee baby arms!" he said, accent growing intentionally thicker and he looked back up at her with a smile and a wink. She scowled back, but didn't really mean it, and then leaned forwards on her crutch to pull the pin out of the previous weight and attach it to the one marked 80. She walked back around front to face him again, and leaned her crutches off to the side against the wall to place her paws on the arm bars as well. This way, she could keep him from clapping them together too hard, and also get him started.

He began to clench, squeezing the arm bars together and then releasing. He gave a grunt of comfort and began to settle into a gentle pace of repetitions. He mostly seemed focused on the workout, and she watched him curiously. He obviously wasn't affiliated with the gym, his clothes were mismatched and humans seemed to put a lot of stock into shaving their facial hair to seem more professional at a job. He was young, an adult but barely, and he surprised her by asking her to increase the weight several times after each set. She did so without minding, it was nice to see someone else who liked to take things seriously.

"So," he panted after a while. "Do you wanna take a turn?" He glanced up at her, having been steadily staring forwards, ironically at her abdomen, for the last few minutes, but the companionable silence had been comforting in a way.

She grunted. "I do not think it matches my profile," she said begrudgingly.

"Profile?" he asked. His face took on a small joking smirk. "You mean like in gaming terms or like a dating profile? Warning, must love dogs, and I don't do arm-bar crunches." His voice became deeper and more serious, like a sports announcer before he winked up at her.

She didn't want to, but she couldn't resist smirking at that horrible joke, and she turned purposefully away from him, hiding the reaction. "I more meant my physical profile," she said, after regaining her composure.

"No I get you," he said, voice more laid back but also soft and understanding. "I figured from the crutches that you were in recovery but I didn't want to pry. I guess the bandages would make it hard to do...much here. There's easier and less strenuous machines upstairs if you wanted to use them. I'm here constantly anymore and I know the area pretty well."

She shook her head. "Call me stuck up but I do not take easy route. Does not do enough for me."

He met her eyes as she turned to face him, now crossing his arms between the bars and leaning his chin on them. He looked half introspective, and half endearing. "Well there's...the rock wall in the back. That's not too strenuous and it feels pretty good. Wait, right, I've heard that crutches sometimes give you really mean vertigo if you've been putting your weight on them and try climbing up on something. There's...the pool?" he jerked a thumb over his shoulder at a door on the far left wall.

"I do not like swimming," she said, voice growing a tiny bit indignant, but not at him. She looked away again. "Does not agree with my fur. Gets too...poofy when dried." She felt embarrassed to imagine the image of herself after getting out of the water and toweling off. It was weird to blush again. She hadn't done that in years.

"Ah, fair enough. My hair does the same thing!" he pointed at his cute little ponytail. "So what would you want to do if you could?" He leaned his head to the side slightly, smiling up at her without seemingly any ulterior motive.

"I want..." she said softly and she leaned back from the arm bar, crossing her paws across her abdomen. She looked away, turning her body slightly to the side and gazed at the stock image of a Panther, a Wolf, and a Falcon all running side by side. The banner they were emblazoned upon read 'Arknought National Free-Running Marathon, this August!' She hung her head a bit, eyes bitter and resentful.

He stayed silent for a while, probably putting two and two together. "I get you," he said, nodding when she glanced over at him. "You want to run. And that's..." he glanced at her crutches. "Well..." he rubbed his chin and then immediately brightened. "What about the jogging track outside? It has a great view of the woodlands and it goes through the forest, has different levels, and lots of places to sit down or stretch if you needed to."

She snorted. He didn't understand. "I cannot..."

"Right, right," he said quickly. "But what about going for a walk? It's kind of the same thing, less strenuous, you can take your crutches, get some fresh air. I've done it a couple times, and it's amazing. Really helps clear your head."

She looked back down at him, thought about it, and then blinked. Walk? Just walk? Outside? She glanced at the poster again, pondering it, and then, for the smallest few seconds, she smiled. She wasn't one for big smiles or grins, but she had been told, before, that she had a nice one when she let herself relax. She nodded. "I will ask my handler if I can, it sounds good, and if he has problem, I can always beat him with stick that he keeps lodged in his own ass."

He laughed at that, genuinely, and beamed up at her. "That's the right kind of attitude. I'll be hanging around here for now, let me know how it goes!" He leaned back in the seat and resumed pushing the bars.

Hera nodded, plucked up her crutches, and clicked her way over to Rico. The tall Doberman was sipping at a cup of water and talking to the therapist but he immediately turned all attention on her as she came within earshot. "Yeah?" he asked, ears perked up.

"I have been told there is jogging track outside that loops through woodlands," she said. His eyes furrowed but she cut him off. "I would be walking only. With guide."

At that, Rico seemed to lighten up, and he actually smiled. The therapist did too. "That...sounds great for you," Rico said. "Yeah, go ahead. It's still pretty nice out, just promise me you'll stay on the first trail. Go for a few loops if you want. Who's the guide?"

She gestured with her head back at the human. "He will take me. He seems familiar with gym and is nice. Could squash him like bug if needed, so I need not be worried."

Rico's expression seemed to become more strained, as if he was keeping himself from either making a joke or a comment, but she gave him an arched eyebrow to let him know she was kidding. That alone made his own eyebrows shoot up and he actually smiled. "Knock yourself out then!" he said, and turned back to the therapist. "That's fine right? She's actively asking to participate in other activities, so I figured...with you being the experts and all..."

The friendly, if albeit too introspective and analytical Feline male nodded, adjusting his glasses. "Given the special circumstances, this is more than acceptable if she can just maintain a good walking speed. We can check on her in an hour."

Rico turned back to Hera, nodding. "Go ahead."

Without giving him a response, the bear turned back and clicked her way towards the Human. He sat up straighter in the chair at her approach, smile hopeful and earnest. "So, what did they say?"

"I will go on walk," she said, but as he seemed about to respond joyfully, she added, "You will go with, as you are familiar with gym. Spot me?" She gave him a small, almost smile, but didn't try to seem too forceful. She was used to just demanding things and usually things working out.

He blinked in surprise, and he raised an eyebrow. "Go on a nature walk with a beautiful Russian-accented Ursid?" he asked, as if not excited about it. She almost started to feel a little insulted, right before he beamed so brightly that she understood the joke immediately and she felt herself flush a bit more, feeling silly for doubting him. "I couldn't think of a single thing I would enjoy more!" He bounced up from the seat, relowered it so that someone else could use the machine, which made her feel a little more appreciative of him being so out of place but so in touch with others, and together they made for the elevator rather than the stairs. He pressed the button to summon it and as they waited, he glanced up at her. "By the way, I never got your info."

She shrugged casually. "Hera Doring. I am eight foot 2 inches, lift 550, bra size..."

His face went somehow paler and he waved her off quickly before she got any farther. "I-I just meant your name!" he said loudly, and then face palmed, now glowing a much brighter shade of pink. She heard him chuckling almost hysterically to himself and she arched an eyebrow. Eventually he let out a gusty sigh mixed with humor and he glanced back up at her through his own fingers, face still blushing. "You are REALLY honest, aren't you?"

"Yes," she said simply. "Besides, when male asks, usually that is what he is asking. I have gotten used to the telling, and feel no shame. Also, you were staring on last, so figured you wanted to know."

The elevator gave a bright and happy dinging sound as it arrived and they walked in together. She had to admit, making him squawk and blush like that was amusing. Humans were so animated compared to Anthros.

"I uhh...I didn't mean to stare," he said lamely as the elevator doors closed and they were entirely alone. He scratched his cheek awkwardly.

She shrugged again, hiding a small smirk. "Is compliment. Cute from such little guy. Most would be intimidated." She noticed him stiffen a bit at that, maybe from the cute part, maybe from the little part. She found it amusing either way. "By the by, you never gave your name. I do not need height and such from you, will just go with bite-sized for my own sake." She gave him the tiniest of teasing winks.

He flushed more and seemed to pretend to pout for a second as the numbers on the dial slowly rose. "I'm not bite-sized," he said disgruntled but then chuckled. "Kelin Yjogi Leod, very nice to meet you."

His name made her blink slightly. The elevator slowly climbed higher, probably the slowest one she could ever remember using but she was enjoying the solitude for once when with someone else. "Yjogi?" she said, thick accent making her mangle the word. "Like bear?"

He gave her an indignant look and she couldn't help giving a growling chuckle. "No, not like the bear!" he said and rolled his eyes. "It's eastern European. My great grandfather was from one of those countries."

She nodded. "You sound as if something wrong with bears, little Kelin," she teased. The elevator gave another loud DING as they arrived at the top floor.

He flushed again, caught by her joke, and she couldn't help clicking her way out of the elevator to avoid him seeing how much she was amused by his reaction. "O-of course there's nothing wrong with bears!" he said quickly as he followed her out. "I love bears! They're big, and strong, and fluffy and..."

She glanced back at him, grinning and only a couple teeth showing just to tease him. "You are easy to taunt, and fun to do so, Kelin," she remarked as they made their way to the communal lockers where they both slipped on running shoes and headed towards the double doors leading out to the gym's outdoor jogging track. For the first time in a long time, Hera found herself genuinely smiling.