The white obstructs the visage of my cub
A longing inside my mouth, in my stomach beckons me to reach for the child
But the stinging strain inside my eyes compels me to blink the snow from them
Steering away from a frigid tub of ice
And carving the way for my baby
I gather my twigs and sticks and leaves
Dig and dig below the border to push my harsh earth out of harm's way
The mean two-legged monsters in this world don't care about us
My baby is the only one I can trust
She won't ever cause disruption to my place more than they ever will
The blaring "sha" haunts me - and if my baby will be killed
I won't bear it
Who am I kidding?
The baby is just a stick on the ground
A branch on a tree; a corpse on the dirt
It moves not because of me but because of the monsters that inhabit with it
The den is the only way