"Just a passing bear. Like, it saw the truck and got inside. Maybe there was food inside." Will gives her a very patient look, shifting to cross his legs and fold his hands in his lap, the picture of rational innocence. "Who's dumb enough to think that they should get inside a small space with a bear? Bears eat people."

Then he reaches out, like he's going to grab his backpack and pull out the notebook to start writing all this down -- the stories and the stuff about iron particles inside tattoo ink because it's gross and it's cool and he's fascinated. And then Sam stands and something closes down in his expression. "Do you have to go?"