They Said They Could Hear the Greyridge Bear
Petra Winslow was the universally acknowledged ice queen of our research institute, and she claimed she could hear what animals were saying.
When our convoy was passing through Greyridge bear territory, she suddenly called for us to stop and pointed at a bear by the roadside.
"It says it's starving. Let's get out and feed it. I can hear its thoughts. Trust me, it won't hurt us."
In my last life, I had refused without hesitation. "That's a Greyridge bear, not some housecat. It'll tear through you like you're made of paper."
The team backed down.
Later, when news broke that the bear had died, Petra publicly blamed me for it. "I told everyone that the bear was starving, and he stopped us. He's the one who killed it."
The internet tore me apart, and Petra's followers stabbed me to death.
When I opened my eyes again, there it was on the other side of the windshield, a skeletal Greyridge bear standing by the road.
Petra's eyes glistened with tears. "The poor thing. If we don't feed it now, it'll starve to death."
The others turned to me. "Come on, Petra said it's hungry, so it's hungry."
"Don't chicken out on us."
I pulled the car over, reached for my seatbelt, and clicked it tight.
"Sure. I'm all for it. Go right ahead."