Late into the winter of his sixth year, snow had begun to fall at a rapid rate,  causing Ethan's white paws to shiver slightly as he trudged along the ice. With an average winter temperature of ?40°C, the Arctic is a cruel place for an orphan polar bear. Even though his insulated fur allowed heat in in the summer and his blubber gave a layer of warmth for the winter it always seemed cold to him; especially since he had no mother to guide him through the first few years, she had died of starvation just after he was born. Ethan had been forced to learn how to hunt for himself, but hadn't really done a good job, he barely caught ten seal's last summer. He often had to reduce his metabolic rate to save energy because of the scarcity of food.

   With each step on the ever-thinning ice, Ethan lost more and more hope of ever finding a meal. Slowly, he began to realise there were tracks in front of him; food. His quickened walk (that was actually more like a slide) became a jog, which became a fast run. His only motivation was the growl which, instead of coming from his throat, came from his stomach. As the winds picked up, the snow turned into a blizzard, reducing the visibility greatly. Now relying on the small tracks and his sense of smell, Ethan continued forward for another hour, continually driven by his hunger. He could smell he was near the creator of the trail so he started to slow down and look more carefully for any other signs of food. He had already travelled ten miles and so was quite tired already, even though he would often travel double that distance.
   Thankfully, the winds started to ease giving a clearer picture of the unknown in which he walked. Ethan was now able to gradually make out the figures that moved ahead of him; a large, dark furred beast lay sprawled out on the ice and a smaller, less-menacing figure, poised over the mound. Proceeding with caution, he approached his target, making as little noise as possible. Unfortunately, Arctic fox's have sharp hearing and with the slightest crunch in the snow, the little figure pricked up her ears and snapped her head around in an instant.
   Both caught red handed, the white pair of animals stood, unmoving, dissolving into their surroundings. With every second, the frozen wasteland enveloped the statues further into its camouflage.

   Finally, the bear was the first to break the silence. Ethan twitched his nose, frozen from cold, and asked: "So are you going to eat that or what?"
Staring down at the small fox, he realized that supposedly, this should be an easy fight. However, whatever size, any animal able to survive the cruel conditions up there, should not be underestimated. Also, Ethan was a terrible fighter.
   "If I move you'll rip me to pieces", the fox replied.
   "Why would I do that?", answered Ethan, a little surprised.
   "I thought you wanted this ox as well?"
   "Well yes, but you're in the way"
   "You're double the size of me!"
   Considering this for a moment, Ethan stepped back and surveyed his situation. He was scared. Scared of a fox. He, a polar bear, was scared of a fox and a fight.
   “Half and half?”
   “Really?”
   “Yeah, sure you're looking a bit thin.” lied Ethan.
   “Is this a trick?” cautiously asked the fox.
   “No, I just...feel sorry for you.  All little and alone”
   “Well, yes, my parents both got killed by a musk ox, like this one, about a year ago”
   “You're an orphan too?”
   “Yes, are you?”inquired the fox.
   “Well, yes, but it doesn't really matter that much. Our mothers only stay until we're two anyway.”
   “You have it tough, by the way, what's your name?”
   “I'm Ethan, what's yours?”
   “I'm Ella”
   Following the exchange of names, another long silence endured as the pair set about dividing the meat on the musk ox. These beasts have long, curved horns and thick coats, making them good hunters; except they have dark fur making them stand out greatly against the pure white snow and ice.
   Working as a team seemed to impose an unspoken alliance, that was bound to last for a long time. It was the beginning of an unpredictable friendship: predator and prey, together.
   Throughout the months, Ethan and Ella became close friends and worked together to find food. They worked efficiently but unfortunately not very successfully. On their hunts they were able to gather food quickly, but that was only if they could find food. On the rare moments they did, Ethan, being a gentleman, gave Ella more, something he would regret later (not only for his sake, but hers as well). 
   As the months went on Ethan was only just surviving. He couldn't catch a decent meal to save his life, and in this case, it might. Finally, he couldn't go on any longer: he had to leave. To where? He didn't know. For what? Food. He would swim to new ice. Alone. It was uncertain that there would be any other seals around, but he had to try something, even if it meant leaving Ella.
   On the day of departure, the sea reflected the sky, copying its array of blues and whites. Everything lay silent as usual, with the exception of the occasional squawk or splash. They'd seen humans before and they knew that they always stayed well away, but you still have to marvel at their strange creations. This morning, there was a large container that brought them, cutting through the icy waters, sending it spewing in every other direction. Breaking the silence.
   Ignoring them was always best, and it usually seemed to make them happy. Normally they would keep a distance but be watching, admiring sort of, in some way. Like he was in an exam, they would be taking notes. And when they left, you could never even tell they had ever been there – not a hair. But today was different. These humans were different.
   Dark glasses, not shiny. Pointy shoes, not sturdy boots. Cases, not rucksacks. Even the long haired ones looked mean. One thing though: they did have notebooks. However, they did not seem to be interested in Ethan, or Ella (who had come to see him off), they were measuring things, shouting things and dropping things.
   Ethan was intrigued as to what they were doing, so stayed and waited for them to leave. They were gone pretty quickly but they didn't disappear, not like the others had, without a trace. Objects were left on the ice. Breaking the perfect white.
   Transparent rings, black boxes, thin orange and white cylinders were littered across the clear expanse. Unfamiliar with these items, Ethan and Ella stayed clear of them and made their way to the edge of the ice, oblivious to the new circumstance that they were now a part of and had just witnessed the beginning of.
   As they said their finally goodbyes, the pair embraced and departed from each other- one north, one south. Ethan could never really be sure of the enormity of his chosen task or when he would be back, but he had promised Ella no more than two months. He dived into the depths of the sparkling sea, parting it and sending a flood of crystals back behind him. Narrowly missing Ella as she walked without looking back - she'd cry and she couldn't cry, not yet.
   One of the items Ella passed, on her way back inland, was a piece of white paper, camouflaged against the frosty snow it lay delicately on top. If she had been able to read, she would probably have been appropriately scared and more cautious. However, she, being a fox, could not, and therefore was not. The proposals in the letter were not due to be carried out for another month, so she had no idea of the horrific future of her home.
   

   Gradually, time passed, both animals foraging for a meal in their separate ways. Ethan swam on and on in the vain hope of finding some ice and Ella walked constantly trying to find something to distract herself from her thoughts about Ethan's current position. Her thoughts had one recurring theme: he could be dead.
   Ella found her distraction in the 'different' humans. Their visits became more frequent, as well as their alien litter. Also they seemed to be constructing various buildings even one just off the shore. She pondered their motives and goals for quite some time before returning to her thoughts on the lonely polar bear.
   Further south, the lonely polar bear was starting to have some luck. He had found enough food to make up for his lost weight and was now hunting for more. Unfortunately, food seemed to be the extent of his luck as, ultimately, he was to be  a very lonely polar bear.
   Time waits for no man nor bear and so prey was caught, buildings went up and ice thinned into oblivion. The more time that passed, the more buildings were built, the more Ella worried. Worry does something to people that a resemblance of could be found within this fox. It changes your every day actions and thoughts into complicated tasks that need all your attention. When you're in a state of worry, your brain refuses to accept or acknowledge other feelings, such as happiness, and so you will continue to worry until the subject that has controlled you, has been resolved or eliminated, often leaving shock or trauma.
   Ella's worrying led to horrible events that did leave shock and trauma, but not for her.
    Ella's worry did control her, and on that fateful day she didn't even notice the blacked waters and clouded sky. She didn't notice the 'different' humans. She was only aware of her objective of trying to resolve the worry.
   It had been two months and a week and a half, when Ethan made his way home. He had travelled a long distance and was tired, but wasn't far from his original home. Driven now, not by hunger, but by a longing to see Ella he waded through the water, in the general direction of home. He was unaware at the time that he might have had a welcoming party.
   As he finally drew near to his destination, to his delight, he saw a small figure poised at the ice. Ella could not contain her excitement, she jumped up and down and then made the horrible mistake. Into the water she leapt.
   Of course she couldn't swim, but she'd learn, that was nothing. She couldn't read either, but if she could, maybe she would have read a book called “The Book Thief”, and maybe she would have learnt to notice colour before humans. Then maybe, just maybe, she would have noticed the coal coloured water.
   Black.
   The oil streamed over her, around her and into her. Her lungs filled quicker than she had jumped and before Ethan could even realize what was happening. He swam faster than he knew possible to reach the murky fox, being careful not to swallow any himself, but it was too late. He too, now jet black with spilt oil, stared into her cold, dead eyes. He couldn't freeze, for fear of drowning. Looking back now, he realised he wouldn't have minded. Oil spilt. A fox jumped. He felt guilt.

Breaking his heart.