A bear sat down leaning against a tree. Brown fur vibrant with vitality, eyes deep and black as a starless night. The forest had its own harmony; the leaves rustling as the wind danced, the birds singing from bass to soprano.
Among the leaves on the floor, already turning to hues of reds, browns and purples; a hive of activity was ever underway by the denizens on low.
Sniffing, the bear’s head turned; scent.
Lumbering to all fours, the bear began to run. Initially, slow and deliberate until reaching mechanical perfection, he ran to her; the Lady of the Woods.