Shelly was preparing a warm stew and hot toddy for Randall's return. At first the pair had just been business partners, but close proximity and chemistry had solidified their bond into a romantic relationship. It was getting cold in Yellowstone as winter approached, so Shelly prepared warm comfort food. The stew was made from a plethora of wild-caught meats. She had a variety of different types of game cooling in an icebox out back, the couple having more than they could ever use. the camouflage-clad woman endeavored over the stew's spicing, wanting to make sure the pair got to enjoy their cozy, secluded cabin a bit more before departing with their lucrative spoils. Shelly had to avoid the stacks of turtle shells, elk horns, beaver pelts, and eagle feathers to find all her spice vials, scattered about the rustic abode.

As the day turned to evening, Shelly suspected Randall had finally located that beaver nest they'd been tracking. She'd have to reward him if he came back with another tall stack of pelts, Shelly mused coyly. The consummate huntress was beginning to worry, until the familiar-sounding thud and crunch of Randall's boots signaled his speedy return. Randall rushed in, clutching his rifle, and slammed the door behind him. Shelly's warm expression of greeting sank, as she saw the terrified expression on her partner's hoarfrost-tinged face. Before Shelly could even speak, Randall was immediately heaving a small cabinet over to bar the door.

"Randall, Randall speak to me honey! Is it the forest rangers? It's no use holing up if they got our scent, we gotta run--" But before she could finish, her usually easy-going partner roughly grabbed Sherry's puffy jacket, screaming into her face "Something was hunting ME! It tried to kill me, look at my leg! We gotta fortify this place, I think it was tracking me..." Shelly became increasingly concerned, alarmed at Randall's bleeding leg wound and odd description of the danger. "Was it a bear honey? A man? What's coming?" As she spoke, Shelly fished out her own hunting rifle, scattering a pile of wolf pelts as she slammed in a magazine of .308, scanning out the cabin's western window for approaching danger.

"I don't know I didn't...it all happened so quick. I thought it was a bear, but it swung a weapon at me, some fucking hillbilly or something..." Randall murmured, scanning the east. All Shelly could see, was a herd of elk approaching unusually close to the cabin, her eyes focused on the treeline for threats. A wide variety of Yellowstone animals began scurrying out of the nearby forest, as Shelly wondered what could prompt so many animals to be displaced, except for an approaching forest fire. Randall's worried voice called out "You seeing this!?" as Shelly soon realized the animals weren't rampaging in a blind chaos, but bearing down directly on their cabin. Shelly just stared in confusion, until an elk buck began sprinting full-speed towards her window.

Shelly barely pulled back at the last moment, as the elk came barreling through the window, glass and frame splinters flying through the small, cluttered cabin. Even injured and bleeding, the big creature seemed focused on attack, it's prong-bearing head pointed at Randall as it scrambled to its feet. Randall shot the creature, the high-powered rifle's blast deafening and disorienting in the enclosed space. Shelly began to grow hysteric as a crash of hooves began slamming at their cabin door, until a greater threat emerged. Swarms of small mammals were scurrying into the open window, foxes, raccoons, squirrels, and eventually a snarling wolverine. Randall and Shelly tried to pick them off, but each shot made their ears ring as the rabid pack began nipping at their legs. Perhaps smelling his blood, the small animals centered on Randall first, obscuring him in a tide of piloerecting fur. Shelly tried to shoot the swarm of beasts off her screaming lover, but her magazine soon clicked empty. Shelly had to use her gunbutt to bash a biting fox off her ankle. It was such abject chaos, neither Shelly or Randall even noticed as the tall, lumbering figure crawled in through the bashed open window. Shelly turned just in time to see the shining flat of a shovel speeding towards her face, then darkness.

"Well morning there, sunshine! You slept the whole night, hope it was a solid rest," said a deep, gruff voice from above. Shelly struggled to hear it over the roaring tinnitus in her ears from the earlier gun battle. As she opened her eyes, her vision swam and distorted, likely due to the hard shovel blow she had suffered earlier. "Mmughh... W-what the hell? Randall?" Shelly murmured out weakly, trying to regain her addled senses. "Oh, I don't think Randall feels like talking too much Honey, he's had a hard time." As Shelly managed to regain her vision somewhat, she struggled to make sense of the sight before her. There was a towering man in front of her, at least two meters tall, wearing a ranger's hat and thick, blue jeans. But the poacher slowly realized, blinking profusely, it wasn't a man at all; it was a humanoid bear, bristling with coarse, shaggy brown fur. The bear man's large ears poked out from the brim of his hat, the creature somehow standing upright, and ominously clutching a bloodied shovel in his hefty paws.

Instantly terrified, Shelly began trying to rise, but realized she had been tied to her icebox, which was heavy with meat. She looked around, realizing she was completely surrounded by unnaturally focused animals of every species, their ominous eyes intently directed on her and Randall. As Shelly looked to her right, she gasped at the state of her partner. He was covered in scratches and bites, hair matted with blood. She worried he was dead, until Randall began to shift upon hearing her voice. As she gazed at her injured lover, she realized the clothed bear was approaching the injured man, clutching a bright red container. "What are you doing? N-no, you can't! Stop!" Shelly shrieked, as the muscular bear humanoid began dousing Randall with gasoline from the jerrycan. The bear's booming voice rang out cheerfully "Always remember to leave nothing but footprints behind after visiting the wilderness. Burning unwanted trash is an effective means of minimizing your ecological footprint, as long as you maintain proper safety precautions." The bear clutched his shovel for emphasis, after tossing the emptied gas canister away. Randall cried out weakly, as the gasoline seeped into his many, small wounds. "Remember, all it takes is a single spark to start a blaze, so always be careful!" the bear man said smugly, as he whisked two flaky stones from his pocket.

Shelly shrieked and begged, as the bear man repeatedly clacked the flint stones together, showering Randall with sparks as the injured hunter struggled against his bindings. It didn't take long, before an inferno whooshed over Randall's curled form. Shelly was overcome with horror at the sight, eyes bulging in shock. "Always remember to keep your fires contained to a manageable level, uncontrollable blazes are a danger to everyone!" the bear man grunted, as he began wildly swinging at Randall's burning body with his shovel. Her eyes swam with tears, as the towering bear finished Randall off with a series of heavy swings, then began heaving several shovelfuls of dirt onto the burning corpse. The merciless ursid threw the shovel aside, winked at Shelly, then said "Even if a campfire appears to be extinguished, use multiple means to ensure the remaining embers are totally put out." Shelly sobbed bitterly, as the taunting beastman unzipped his huge fly, and let his obscene animal penis flop out. She screamed "You fucking monster! You'll pay for this! They'll hunt you down and kill you like all the other rabid bears that attack people!" But the bear man just laughed, as he urinated over Randall's smoldering corpse, aiming for the glistening embers on his scorched body.

Shelly just looked down into her own lap, body shaking with her choked sobs, until she detected a huge shadow looming over. "Oh but excuse me, I've been rude. My name's Smokey. Smokey the Bear. I'm something of an honorary forest ranger 'round these parts," the bear said cordially. "My name's Shelly, and I'm going to turn you into a fucking rug," the poacher woman said defiantly, as Smokey just shook his head in response. "You've got two options right now, as I see it, Honey. You can keep it up with that attitude, and I'll return you to mother nature as a big pile of bear-graced fertilizer. I need to put some weight on for the winter's hibernation. Or, you can begin repaying your outstanding debt to nature, open those pretty legs of yours, and show this big ol' bear some lovin'." For emphasis, Smokey the bear waved his swelling, unsheathed bear penis above Shelly's head, dribbling her with some residual drops of piss. "Just so y'know, us bears got a bone in our boy, so when I say I'm really going to lay some pipe in your Keystone passage, you'd best listen, Honey." Shelly just stared up at the cruel, uncompromising bear man above her, as she heard his belly loudly gurgling with hunger. Crying bitter tears, she responded "