Counterforce

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A familiar, dreaded growl sounded up ahead, and Konstantin Belchenko instantly froze in midstep.

Intently, he peered through the thick tree line to his left. For the first few seconds, all that he could make out were the shaggy white birch trunks. When the muted grunt repeated itself, Belchenko shifted his line of sight to the section of the wood directly before him.

There he spotted the fully grown black bear, furiously flaying at the ground, approximately one hundred meters away.

Aware of the creature’s great strength and unforgiving temper Belchenko respectfully kept his distance.

Crouching behind a fallen tree trunk, he reached inside the pocket of his greatcoat and removed a compact pair of binoculars. Barely the length and width of his own hand, the powerful field glasses were of German origin. They hardly needed to be adjusted as he brought them to his eyes and focused on. the beast blocking his progress. Upon sighting a fist-sized patch of shocking white fur on the bear’s right haunch, Belchenko smiled.

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