Deimos lumbered through the scrubby trees at the edge of the forest. Private Erdos and Parker, the handler, followed in Deimos’ wake. The bear shouldered his way through the trees, well over a thousand pounds of ursine flesh, not counting the gleaming metallic implants.
“He’s found something,” said Parker. “Can’t be salmon this far inland.”
“Salmon? He gets distracted when he’s hungry?” Erdos had never wanted the liaison position.
Parker shot Erdos a look. “No. The salmon are the advance scouts for the dolphins. They’re afraid of bears when they go in streams, but the dolphins can find them anywhere.”
Whalen on Slow Reading
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