In July 2015, a military veteran named Brian worked a reconstruction contract to clear a helipad and migrate a field recreation camp from a low-lying, flood-prone lagoon island near Bear Glacier outside of Seward to safer high ground. On July 18th, while resting inside a small nylon tent with his head protruding to manage a severe knee infection, Brian was abruptly awoken at 1:00 AM under a dense, black coastal sea fog. Believing a small animal was nearby, he cleared his throat; instantly, an immense entity standing a mere four feet away panicked and sprinted toward a newly cleared trail corridor.
The physical weight of the creature's fleeing gait violently shook the ground, producing twelve distinct, thunderous bipedal impacts ('boom boom boom') before it splashed heavily through the open lagoon channel and vanished. Traumatized and facing ridicule from his foreman, Brian's anxiety escalated weeks later when he was tasked with foraging wild berries into a nearby slough to support inbound clients. Nosing a skiff into a thick berry patch, he was instantly enveloped by a heavy, claustrophobic sensation of point-blank surveillance coming from 10 to 20 feet inside the alder brush line.
Overwhelmed by dread, Brian tore an entire blueberry bush out by its roots as a token and fled back to the boat, ultimately terminating his contract and leaving the wilderness permanent due to the event.
