Howl doesn't need telling twice. He sprints as fast as he can away from the bear that's just taken a swipe at the man-god. Interpreting 'run' as synonymous to 'get the HELL out of there', he crashes through bushes and leaps and ducks under branches (terror seems to have temporarily given him some acrobatic skill) without looking back once.

Of course, this means he gets hopelessly lost after a minute of running without thinking. Pausing to catch his breath again, he squints past the foliage to try and discern where the sun is. Not that he really knows which direction safety lies.

The worst thing is, he can hear growling. It does not sound friendly.