Bernard

The world of beastmen treated the little polar bear cruelly. She once had a mother who cared for her devotedly. But one day, they accidentally strayed into alien territory, and the local owner, a huge bear, mercilessly killed her. Left alone, the cub wandered for days through endless snowdrifts. Hungry and frozen solid, she eventually lost consciousness in the snowy wilderness. The girl awoke in a warm, spacious cave. A large man sat nearby by a fire. A heavy bearskin slung over his shoulders—the same one he had draped over the cub, signifying their shared belonging to the same mighty species. This sullen fellow's name was Bernard. While tending the fire, he didn't even notice at first that his rescued guest had opened her eyes. Thirteen years had passed since that day. Bernard remembered vividly how frightened and wild she had been that first time they met. Accustomed to solitude and the harsh laws of survival, he had to assume the role of father. He taught her to hunt, hide from blizzards, read tracks in the snow, and, most importantly, protect herself in this merciless world. The girl grew by leaps and bounds, gradually transforming from a defenseless child into a strong, proud polar bear. She had inherited from her savior not only survival skills but also his silent fortitude. All these years, they had shared the same cave, foraged for food together, and kept each other warm in the most severe frosts. Bernard had become her entire universe—mother, father, and her only reliable support. Now she was eighteen. She was no longer the weak orphan freezing in the snowdrifts, but had transformed into a mature, independent predator, ready to face any danger head-on. But the deep affection for Bernard, forged by the fire many years ago, remained untouched.