Grizzly Bear: Swipe: Chest & Arms

The swipe lands like a felled tree, claws opening the chest in four deep lines while the sheer weight of the blow drives ribs inward. You wake propped upright against a wagon wheel because lying flat drowns you, each breath a wet click, the doctor's face saying what he will not.

• Breathing shallow and wrong, propped upright day and night for 4 days
• Chest strapped and stitched; raising your arms above the shoulder is out for 7 days
• No riding, no lifting, no laughing, each one costs more than you have, for 5 days
• /me sits propped and grey, breath coming in careful sips, a red-spotted cloth in one fist

Recovery 7 days propped and strapped under a doctor's daily watch; untreated, caved ribs and a wet lung finish what the bear began·Doctor, urgently

The blow lands high and the collarbone snaps like a dry branch even as the claws open three furrows across the top of your chest. Your arm hangs useless from a shoulder gone the wrong shape, and every jolt of the wagon ride to the doctor is its own small murder.

• Arm bound tight to your chest in a sling for 7 days, one-handed at everything
• Three stitched furrows across the upper chest, dressed daily
• A bump where the bone knits that you will find through your shirt like any old scar

Recovery 7 days slung and strapped with the doctor setting it, else the shoulder heals low and weak·Doctor, urgently

You get the arm up in time to save your face and the claws pay it out in full, three lacerations wrist to elbow, deep enough to show the pale sheath of the muscle. The doctor stitches by lamplight, layer under layer, and tells you the hand kept all its strings by a whisker.

• Forearm sewn and splinted; no gripping heavier than a spoon for 4 days
• Gun hand at half strength for 7 days if it was that arm
• Three long parallel scars, wrist to elbow, forever

Recovery 5 days of stitches and stillness with a doctor, 7 and proud flesh without·Doctor required

The paw catches you square and the world tilts, you travel two full yards and land in the scree like dropped freight. The claw cuts across your chest are shallow; the two ribs that crack on landing and the wrist you break your fall with are the real bill.

• Ribs wrapped: no lifting, hauling or laughing for 6 days
• Wrist splinted for 5 days; buttons become a puzzle
• Shallow claw lines across the chest, cleaned and strapped for 3 days

Recovery 6 days strapped up under a doctor, 7 hard ones breathing shallow without·Doctor required

Four claws, four lines, collar to breastbone, deep enough to gape when you breathe, shallow enough to miss everything that matters. The doctor swabs them with carbolic and closes the worst two with silk while you study the ceiling and recite what you will do to that bear.

• Chest stitched and dressed for 4 days; no hauling rope or timber
• Sleeping on your back only for 4 days
• Four parallel scars across the chest, the shirt-off kind

Recovery 4 days stitched with the doctor's care, 6 weeping ones without·Doctor required

Instinct throws your forearm up and the claws take it instead of your throat, two cuts that need stitching and a bone-deep bruise that makes the whole limb sulk. Fair trade, the doctor says, sewing. The best one you will ever make.

• Forearm stitched and bandaged for 3 days; grip weak as a child's
• No rifle work off that arm for 3 days, the recoil lands on the bruise
• /me rolls up a sleeve to show the bandage, then mimes exactly how the paw came down

Recovery 4 days with sutures and a sling by day, 6 if it is left to knit rough·Doctor required

The swipe itself only grazes, it is the landing that gets you, your full weight arriving on one bent-back hand. Something in the wrist tears and puffs up quick, and the shallow claw lines across your chest feel like an afterthought against it.

• Wrist splinted for 5 days; fork, reins and cards all move to the other hand
• Faint claw welts across the chest, gone in a few days
• No firing a pistol off that hand for 5 days

Recovery 5 days splinted and rested, 7 with a hot weak wrist if you work through it·Doctor required

The flat of the paw catches you like a swung door and the breath leaves your body all at once, you are on the ground fish-mouthing before you understand you were hit. Deep bruising over the breastbone; every yawn and sneeze for days is a small ambush.

• Breastbone bruised: no heavy lifting for 4 days, and sneezing is an event
• A paw-wide bruise blooming across the chest, going every shade of thunderhead
• Short of breath on stairs and slopes for 3 days

Recovery 4 days taking it slow, 6 if you insist on swinging an axe·Doctor required

The very tips of the claws catch you, four shallow cuts raked across the chest, stinging like a brand but none deeper than the skin. Carbolic wash, clean strips of shirt, and you are patched before the coffee boils.

• Four shallow raked cuts, dressed for 3 days; sweat makes them sing
• Faint parallel lines that may scar in pale, may not
• /me pulls the shirt collar aside to show four neat red lines, already composing the story

Recovery 3 days bandaged and washed, 5 if dust gets its way·Doctor advised

More shove than slash, the paw takes you off your feet and the hillside does the rest. You come up spitting grass with a bruised shoulder, scraped elbows and a heartbeat you can hear, while the bear watches you leave with professional interest.

• A bruised shoulder, stiff for 3 days; saddle work is a groaning matter
• Elbows scraped raw, scabbing under rolled sleeves
• A flinch at big sounds for a day or two that you will deny

Recovery 3 days of stiffness working itself loose; liniment helps, pride hinders·Doctor advised

Your winter coat eats most of the swipe, the claws shred wool and lining, and only one gets through far enough to matter, a cut over the ribs you close with three turns of bandage. The coat is a casualty; you are barely a patient.

• One shallow cut over the ribs, bandaged for 3 days
• Coat torn to ribbons across the front, patch it or wear the story
• Sore where the blow landed for 2 days

Recovery 3 days for the cut to knit; the coat needs a tailor or a funeral·Doctor advised

You twist from the blow and take the fall on one elbow, skinned to raw meat through the sleeve, with a single welted claw line across your chest that never broke the skin. The elbow stiffens by nightfall out of pure spite.

• Elbow skinned raw and scabbing thick for 3 days; keep the sleeve loose
• One red welt across the chest, gone in 2 days
• /me picks a last piece of gravel from the elbow, hissing through teeth

Recovery 3 days of scab and stiffness; keep it clean, nothing more to do·Doctor advised

A glancing blow and a bad step, your wrist turns under you as you scramble clear, and two thin scratches across the forearm are all the claws collect. The wrist swells just enough to complain about buttons and bridles.

• Wrist wrapped snug for 3 days; lift with the other hand
• Two thin scratches on the forearm, scabbed by morning

Recovery 2 days wrapped and rested, 4 if you keep hauling on it·Doctor advised

The claws never touch you, it is the pad of the paw that lands, flat as a skillet and near as heavy. By morning there is a bruise across your chest the size of a dinner plate, in the general shape of your poor decisions.

• A skillet-sized chest bruise for 3 days, tender to a laugh
• The first stretch each morning comes with commentary, for 2 days

Recovery 2 or 3 days of fading colors; nothing to treat but the swagger·No doctor needed

You cover up like a boxer and the claws skate across both forearms, thin scratches, beaded with blood, stinging out of all proportion to their depth. Whiskey on them costs you more grimace than the bear did.

• Thin scratches on both forearms, scabbed in a day
• Sleeves down for 2 days unless you want the questions

Recovery 2 days to scab and settle; a wash and a bandage is the whole cure·No doctor needed

The swipe barely grazes but the flinch takes you off a rock ledge and onto your tailbone, the bear gets a torn sleeve, gravity gets everything else. You walk back to camp very straight and sit down very carefully.

• Bruised tailbone: 2 days of careful sitting and creative dismounts
• One shallow graze on the shoulder, hardly worth the bandage
• /me lowers onto the bench by degrees, jaw set, daring anyone to speak

Recovery 2 days of gingerly sitting; time cures it and mockery seasons it·No doctor needed

The claws catch coat, not chest, four clean slits through lapel and shirtfront, and beneath them one scratch so shallow it barely beads. You stand there in your ventilated coat doing sums on how close that was.

• One faint scratch on the chest, gone in 2 days
• Coat and shirt slit to ribbons in front, the mending pile grows

Recovery A day or two for the scratch; the wardrobe is the true casualty·No doctor needed

Sheepskin, wool and a folded muffler eat the whole swipe, the claws snag, rake and come away trailing fleece. Under it all you carry three red welts and not one drop of blood, plus a coat that looks attacked by a threshing machine.

• Three red welts across the chest, faded by tomorrow
• The coat is scrap, wear the slashes like medals or buy new
• /me pokes four fingers through the coat-front slits and wiggles them

Recovery Welts gone by morning; the coat is past any needle in this county·No doctor needed

You are already turning when it lands, and the paw glances off your shoulder instead of landing true, one welt, one stumble, and the full understanding of what almost happened arriving about a minute later with the shakes.

• A single welt across the shoulder, gone in a day or two
• The delayed shakes tonight by the fire, nobody will blame you

Recovery A day, maybe two; nothing needs dressing but the nerves·No doctor needed

You roll with it like a prizefighter, the paw spends its fury on empty air and coat-tail, and your own momentum carries you over a deadfall and out of reach. The grizzly huffs twice, finds you not worth the climb, and ambles off. You are untouched, upright, and lying about it already.

• Not a mark on you, witnesses required before anyone believes it
• A torn coat-tail kept as evidence for the retelling
• /me demonstrates the roll in the saloon at quarter speed, tankard still in hand

Recovery Nothing to heal; the story matures like whiskey and improves faster·No doctor needed