The Bear and the Star

It was a stormy winter's morn when Armel left his home to hunt in the woods south of Rivertree Village. The wind howled, whipping around the trees, pulling down houses built around the trees' trunks and stripping the pines and oaks of both leaf and bark. For a moment he was thankful that his people had always lived on the ground rather than in the trees like the natives of the Village. He might not blend in with his dark hair and eyes, but at least his house stood secure. Perhaps there was something to being an outsider even if he got curious looks from the other villagers. Where he was from, the sky didn't rain icy flakes that stung his exposed skin. Snow pelted his face, clung to his hair, and found the open mouth of his cloak, but Armel had to go forward. If he didn't, he'd starve.

Snow flew thick and fast. Everywhere was white. The trees were a blurry haze. Armel began to wish he was back home in his seat by the hearth fire, but no matter where Armel turned, he couldn't find the path back. Snow completely buried it.

Armel tried to continue, but found he could not. He looked down at his feet and found them lost in the snow. The hard pebbles of ice were everywhere. In his boots, freezing his woolen socks, soaking his tunic and finding every fold of his trousers. The snow continued to rise. Within minutes, it built to his knees. He bent to dig himself free, but for every handful of snow gone, two more took their place. Just as he was about to give up, he saw a light in the forest.

At first, Armel thought it was a trick of the weather. His tired body was hallucinating. The woman walked on top of the snow, her feet barely making an imprint. Light shone from her, casting back the shadows. Wherever she walked, an acorn would fall until there was a trail of them behind her.

Armel stared.

The forest lady bent down and helped Armel out of the drift and set him upon the top, but the weight of Armel's boots and the ever-falling snow soon buried him again.

"Help me, please," Armel said.

"If I help you, you might regret it," the forest lady said. "I can make you walk on the snows like I can, but it will come at a price."

"I will die out here if you do not help me," Armel said. "I will pay the cost, whatever it is."

"Very well," the forest lady said. She helped Armel out of the drifts one last time, but when she released him, he found he had changed. He was covered in brown fur and walked on all fours.

"What have you done to me?" he said and started when he noticed that he growled like a bear.

The forest lady walked up to him and placed a hand on his heart. "I have changed you into a bear so that you may survive the winter. There is a cave nearby that you may spend the season in. When you wake up, it will be spring."

"What about provisions?" said the man-turned-bear. "Bears usually store up food before they sleep for the winter."

"Don't you have stores?" the forest lady asked. "Surely you must have, living so far out in the woods?"

The Armel-turned-bear dipped his great head. "I do not have provisions."

"Why not?" she asked. "Did you not know about the winter?"

"I did," he said, "but I thought I had more time." He did not tell her that it was because he lived alone, as far from people as he could get.

The forest lady watched him until he squirmed within himself. "I will tell you what I will do," she said. She bent down and picked up an acorn. "Take this," she said, placing it in his paw. "Plant it and with time, it will grow."