[It's only the proximity of the bear that stops Bellamy from grabbing hold of Clarke. And even the proximity of a bear can't suppress the spike of relief that shoots through him, just at this brief glimpse of her face. It's glimpse enough to identify Clarke, enough to make this worth it. If she'd slipped past him with her hood up and her face turned down, he might still have recognized something about her--traits more difficult for anyone to disguise, the way that she walks, maybe--but it doesn't matter, it didn't happen that way; here she is instead. He can take on a bear. For Clarke, and with Clarke.
And they're going to have to. The bear's shamble is more purposeful, now that their crowd has caught its attention. Bellamy shifts his grip on his sword as he reaches around, slow, to detach his shield and get it on his arm. No big movements yet. The villagers do that for him, yelling protests at the blade in his hand, don't hurt her, leave her alone-- The bear yawns a low groan of a growl, mouth all soft taffy pink and ivory yellow where its teeth gleam.]
Get them out of the way. [Not you get out of the way. He might want that, but Clarke wouldn't do it even if he told her to. The best he can do is step sideways, in front of her, shield braced on his forearm. The bear paws at the dirt of the road, great head swaying from side to side.] Get them out of the way and hang back a little.
[The best he'll manage. She still might ignore him. She's never made anything easy. The bear's muscles bunch under loose skin and fur. It's too late to wish he was wearing a helmet. Bellamy bangs his sword against his shield instead, the hilt and crosspiece crashing loudly.]
hearteyes
And they're going to have to. The bear's shamble is more purposeful, now that their crowd has caught its attention. Bellamy shifts his grip on his sword as he reaches around, slow, to detach his shield and get it on his arm. No big movements yet. The villagers do that for him, yelling protests at the blade in his hand, don't hurt her, leave her alone-- The bear yawns a low groan of a growl, mouth all soft taffy pink and ivory yellow where its teeth gleam.]
Get them out of the way. [Not you get out of the way. He might want that, but Clarke wouldn't do it even if he told her to. The best he can do is step sideways, in front of her, shield braced on his forearm. The bear paws at the dirt of the road, great head swaying from side to side.] Get them out of the way and hang back a little.
[The best he'll manage. She still might ignore him. She's never made anything easy. The bear's muscles bunch under loose skin and fur. It's too late to wish he was wearing a helmet. Bellamy bangs his sword against his shield instead, the hilt and crosspiece crashing loudly.]
HEY! Over here--