Cruel game / Blinders

The bear tugged at his shirtsleeve. It ripped but he didn’t budge. He remained curled with his knees at this chest, his head at his knees, and his hands clasped behind his neck. He heard the bear circle behind him and he tried to hold his breath but his beating heart filled his lungs so he resorted to quick and shallow puffs of air. He felt a tug at this shoe heel. A minute later he felt hot breath on the top of his head. He didn't want to die. Then he heard the bear trudge away. . .
Then nothing. . .
He counted to one hundred and did not move. . .
He wanted to live. He wanted to grow old. He decided to he’d wait a half hour. He counted to sixty and then started over, marking the minutes by carefully flexing the fingers. . .
A half hour later there was no sign of the bear. He wondered if a half hour had been long enough to wait. He really wanted to live. He’d lay there motionless for six days if he was told that’s what he needed to do. Was a half hour long enough? He waited another half hour, counting the minutes in the same manner. When he lost count he'd error on the side of caution and went back to a number he’d sure he’d already passed. . .
After another half hour still no sign of the bear. He needed to play this right. It was a matter of life and death and he wanted to live. No use in risking anything. He continued to wait. . .
He heard wind and leaves and the occasional bird but no bear. He waited some more. . .
He unclasped his heads and slowly raised his head just far enough to see over his knees. No sign of the bear. He continued to wait. . .
Surely this had been long enough. He decided he’d count to seven and then he’d stand up. Seven was his lucky number. It would be his way of letting fate decide. It made perfect sense. He started counting to seven. At six he decided to make it seventeen. At sixteen he decided to make it seventy. At seventy he still didn’t move. He didn’t have the nerve. He didn’t want to die. He wanted to live. . .
He took a deep breath, the first deep breath he’d taken since seeing the bear in the path. He counted to seven again. This time at seven he stood. He turned around and saw the bear, about twenty feet away. The bear charged and he stumbled backwards, falling back to where he’d been. He was still contemplating the difference between fate and regret when the bear tore his head off.

zeroth life lesson: there's being careful and there's being extra careful. the latter is foolish and should be punished as such for there's no hiding from your destiny.