Bram pushes through the tall ferns at the edge of the mossy forest. A large bear sits very still against a tree, nose buried in its paws.
The bear lifts its head and lets out a tiny squeak, then hides its face again. Bram steps closer and holds out his hand, palm up, waiting.
Bram walks forward and the bear follows. They try a path to the left through blueberries but it ends at a steep hill. The bear slides back down on its tummy with a surprised huff.
Next they try a path to the right past a mossy boulder, but it loops back to the same place. Bram points up the hill and the bear nods, shaking pine needles from its fur.
They climb the hill together and Bram holds a low branch so the bear can pull itself up. At the top a thick tangle of roots blocks the way forward.
The bear tries to squeeze through but gets stuck halfway, one paw dangling in the air. Bram laughs and gently pushes the bear's back until it pops free with a soft poof of moss dust.
The bear sneezes once, twice, then grins with two small teeth showing. It limps along and keeps stopping to sniff the ground, following a faint trail of crushed clover.
Bram walks beside the bear, stepping carefully so he doesn't crush the scent trail. The bear's ears perk up each time the smell grows stronger.
Bram steps out into his garden and the bear stops at the wooden fence, looking at Bram with wide soft eyes. Bram opens the gate and the bear trots past him into the yard.
The bear turns and looks back as if to say thank you, then trots home through the trees. The next morning Bram wakes to a tap-tap-tap at his window.