Chapter 12: One's Own Place from Bear Metamorphoses

≪ to the previous chapter
Five days had passed since Luka and I returned from the bog. Gradually, the putrid aftertaste of the Navka's energy faded away. The most surprising consequence of that event for me was that I didn't want to eat at all. At first, I chalked it up to nausea, but that passed. Luka went around chuckling, explaining nothing in advance. When I finally asked him directly, he deigned to explain.

Chapter 11: The Bog Hunt from Bear Metamorphoses

≪ to the previous chapter
For three more mornings, Luka made me change my form. He demanded I speed up the process. In the end, the transformation became almost instantaneous. But Luka wasn't satisfied, forcing me to do it again and again — sitting, standing, walking, running.

Chapter 10: Luka's Vixen from Bear Metamorphoses

≪ to the previous chapter
Of course, Luka was already waiting for me, always knowing in advance when I would arrive. He was sitting on the porch, tinkering with something as usual. When I approached, he lifted his head.
"Well, there you are. Have some kvass after your journey," he nodded towards a jug standing in the shade.
I happily downed a cup.

Chapter 9: The Bear Amulet from Bear Metamorphoses

≪ to the previous chapter
I spent a couple of days at Luka's homestead, helping him with chores a bit, but we didn't really talk about anything important. Luka was constantly occupied with some object, fussing over it tirelessly, whispering something to it. I didn't ask questions, deciding that if he wanted to, he would have told me himself. If he was silent, there was a reason. I didn't see the bear during those days; after our memorable meeting, he had gone back into the forest.

Chapter 8: In the Dread Murom Forest from Bear Metamorphoses

≪ to the previous chapter
It was supposed to be a fishing trip, but it turned into a regular booze-up in the great outdoors, as often happens with men escaping the watchful eyes of their wives. One of my colleagues, who was from a local village near Kirov, had talked us all into going to a river aptly named Krivaya, or "Crooked." As Vysotsky sang: "In the reserved and dense, dreadful Murom forests, all sorts of unclean beings wander in hordes and sow fear in passersby."

Village Mitote - Short story

"Do you know what mitote* is?" asked Sergey in surprise. "You are in the dark, even though you live in the city. Have you heard of Castaneda?"
"Well, in general, it's about shamans, right?" Dmitry responded uncertainly.
"I'm telling you, you're in the dark. It's not about shamans. Castaneda writes about magic and power," Sergey interrupted him. "The main thing is power, and the one who hunts for it better has more of it. Usually, it's done alone, but sometimes these hunters gather together, take peyote, and meet with Mescalito. That's what mitote is. So, will you come with us?"
"Tomorrow? I might go if my parents let me."
"Just tell them you're going fishing," Sergey got up. "Let me know by the evening if you decide to come. I have to go now, there's something I need to prepare and discuss with another candidate."
"Who is that candidate?" Dmitry asked.
"Remember Fedor? You saw us together at the train station. He seemed interested. Anyway, see you."
Sergey waved his hand and walked down the street. Dmitry got up from the bench in front of the house where his family usually spent the summer and went inside the courtyard.