Once, such a bullet had found its mark by scoring a gouge on his scalp; a gouge which gnats and mayflies and "no-see-'ems" and less cleanly pests had made a torment for him, for weeks thereafter.
Bruin had a good memory.

Just now, he had nothing to defend.

He was not at bay.

Nor had the fight-fury possessed him to the exclusion of sanity.

Thus, he fled.