A meeting with Otso the Bear

Crunching leaves folded beneath Demia’s tiny feet. She had no idea why she had decided to take her walk through the woods, many adults always said they did so in times where they needed time to relieve stress. But Demia saw no reason in that. Why leave to something so happy only to fill it with sadness? Why even get sad at all?

Demia makes’s vibrant eyes stare over her surroundings as she finds herself once again stepping just about as far into the woods as she was in her mind, her eyes blinking to take in the full surrounding forest. No more village behind her, no more children playing out in the sun, no more adult talking about...whatever it is those weird adults talked of.

Many were telling her that she had some strange ‘rite of passage’ coming within her tenth birthday, something that Demia had honestly never quite fully grown to understand yet. Demia shakes her head of these thoughts to properly grasp the situation around her.

“...Oooh, pretty.” Demia’s eyes gaze her surroundings. Many different trees sprouted within the forest, trees which had leaves coloured much like the lovely shades of reds and yellows found in her hair.

Some were contrasted by a dissonant white of a birch tree, but despite that, it was the birch that Demia liked the most! It was always the odd-tree out.

“Pft. Any other kid would be like, where’s momma, where’s papa!” Demia wrinkled her nose and puffs out her chest on a faint show, but the only onlookers were the surrounding trees and the ever-present birds that cooed and chirped in the bright sunlight.

Demia just walked in a straight line. She knew how lost she was, but that never mattered. She eventually finds her way back home somehow or some way, and she was not going to prove herself as a wimp to the other kids by leaving the place crying and running.

She’d eat random chestnuts if she had to! Birch nuts! Something like that. Truthfully, Demia had no idea what was edible and what wasn’t.

Demia’s walk continues on for some time before she hears a few distinct foraging noises in the distance. Some grumbles could be heard that left Demia turning her head in surprise as she makes her way through the colourful woods. What crosses her path left her jumping.

A streak of black; something no doubt different from the otherwise vibrant shades that dyed this forest. And it moved, just like her. Demia went still for a moment and sat on the ground quietly, her eyes widening as she peaked around her surroundings.

“...Sneakies, you can’t catch me!” She’d shake her little fist in the air, a gesture she found herself giggling at with how often the grownups had done.



“Grrumph!” Something grumbles.

Demia’s head darts towards the direction, and finds stearing upon her two beady little eyes, set in the thick, fuzzy black face of a bear. The bear lumbers in her direction, and for a brief moment, Demia actually feels herself faltering a little!

Her legs leave from their sitting position, before her eyes make contact with the creature…

Demia hears the beast growl and for a moment, Demia nearly shakes in fear as the creature only grows closer to her. The large beast’s dim little eyes seem entirely focused on her, and though Demia had proven quite durable before, something in her doubted she could defend against a creature this...large.

Then, its long pink tongue licks across her cheek. It drops backwards, sitting upon its rear to gaze down at her, almost mimicking the sitting position she head.

Demia stares...then giggles as she looks down at her stomach, which gives a soft growl. “...Do you know where I can find food?” She’d ask the bear.

The bear’s beady eyes simply give that dim little light you’d expect in any slow animal, but its head tilted to the side, almost as if it wished to understand her.

“...Ahh. Ahh?” Demia points to her open mouth for a moment.

The bear actually scooches up and rushes right in her direction, Demia screams in surprise as the creature lowers its head down to scoop the tiny girl right onto its back.

“W-wha! Too fast, too fast!” Demia’s hands frantically squirm around as she grips fur at his back, while her new giant, fuzzy friend made its way through the forest. It rushed on through the woods for what felt like hours to Demia, mostly in part due to the jarring way over.

The bear then stops, giving a soft garrumph for Demia. Unfortunately for the tiny girl, every hair on her tiny little body was standing on edge, but she’d eventually manage to slide off the creature, before turning to look up towards the enormous tree he brought her to. Dangling upon a thick branch above a birch tree was an enormous hive of bees; the nest is enormous, almost as large as Demia’s chest, she’d wager, and judging from the buzzing of the insects within, its occupants were currently at work.

“What are you doing?” Demia stares up towards the nest, and with a grumble, the black bear clambers up along the tree, pawing and wacking at the surface as its large arm sways to reach for the nest.

The snapping of a branch leaves Demia nearly jumping, only to find the enormous hive inadvertantly careening straight for the top of her tiny little head. The nest cracks open upon her, prompting a squeak from the girl as angry bees buzzed about from their sudden intrusion.

The bear gives a loud, angry growl towards the nest.

And to Demia’s surprise, not a single sting is left upon her. The girl’s eyes blink as thick honey pours down between them, her finger reaching to scoop up a dollop before plopping the stuff in her lips. The black bear stops to stare straight at her as the bees calmly spread around her, fluttering over to form a thick matt on the tree behind.

“...For me?” Demia asks.

The bear’s head once again tilts, unable to show or understand her, yet somehow having the expression to show her that it knew what she needed.

Demia’s hands scoop out a handful of honeycomb from the nest, fortunately absent of its buzzing little inhabitants, before taking a curious bite out of the stuff. Very sweet. Crunchy...almost enough to make her eyes water.

“...Fanksh.” Demia swallows down the honeycomb, before offering a larger portion for the bear.

“...So are you my friend now?” Demia asks

“Garrumf.” The bear grunts.

“Yay! I think I’ll call you...Otso.”

The bear happily takes a bite of the offered honeycomb.



More friends in the Woods

Childhood was soon waning for Demia. After that fateful meeting with Otso, she had been granted a special place in their stables for him, and he was allowed to live with the community as a bumbling member of the community. In fact, many druids, including her parents, were quite pleased and happy with her bringing back the lovable bear.

Not just because Otso was such a friendly creature, no, but because Demia had proven a very fundamental part of being a druid. Taming a large beast was no easy feat even for those with training in magic. Needless to say, it stunned the little Elven village of Galdhall that Demia could sway such an otherwise ferocious beast under her control. This lead to the elders -- and her parents, determining that Demia was ready.

She was ready for the important vision quest set into Mordencrast; though such a thing would prove difficult for Demia to partake in. Her parents worried how long she’d be out in the wilds. Elves were sent out for this vision quest often, and though all have survived, the Norns would only come to grant one’s vision at the brink of death. Demia dying in the woods sounded just about every bit as likely as pigs flying, but that just meant her quest would be all the more enlightening!

Demia was stripped of all belongings, as is customary, that unfortunately met Otso was unable to journey with her. Though she made the argument that Otso was not a pet, but a friend, friends still fell under the category of a ‘belonging’ that would only cloud one’s vision during their adventure. And so, Demia was garbed in her lovely leafy dress and sent out…

Demia is bitter.

Not a burning, hating bitterness. But a resentful and bitter feeling that she couldn’t help but dwell upon once again. She quietly tracks through the woods, grumpy expression remaining on her face.

Grumpily, she kicks up a small bunch of dried leaves into the air and mutters out a garrumphing sigh she’d learn to mimic from her large, fuzzy companion that was no longer at her side. “It’s my birthdayy...no fair.” She’d repeat to herself, remembering the sorrowful scene of her parents informing her that Otso could not come.



With a deep sigh, Demia makes her way deeper and further into the woods. The trees, though once autumn, were now in that sorrowful state that came just before winter. A dead looking and leafless state that left their branches bare in most places, twisting out into a network of tiny twigs that swayed and bends with the wind.

A grumble in her stomach reminded her of her previous meeting with Otso. With a hint of optimism that quickly outshines the girl’s tiny bit of resentment, a smile spreads across her face. “Maybe I’ll find some bees…”

Demia skips, hops, and jumps through the vale, her eyes scoping out for any wildlife nearby. She’d never in her life thought of needing to actually eat an animal before. Yes, she’s done it before, but usually her parents had to prepare them for her. The very abhorrent idea of harming something cute and cuddly like a rabbit -- or even mighty and ferocious like a timber wolf, left her hair standing a little on edge.

“...Maybe I’ll just find another friend to teach me how to find some food and stuff. Otso isn’t the only bear out here. I bet Otso even has a big brother, or a mommy and daddy, like I do!” Demia gasps. A family of bears could be waiting to greet her with heaping bowls of honey, crafted from the hollowed nests of buzzing bees. Like sweet oatmeal!

Demia’s eyes blink as they cast over towards something in the distance. A faint plume of smoke is rising up over the horizon. It piqued the girl’s curiosity, her weight bouncing up on its toes as she watches the smoke rise. It didn’t look like black, burning smoke...no, it looked a bit more controlled.

“If it is pale, then stay a while. If it is dark, there’s a dangerous spark…” Demia recites.

Demia makes her way off towards the smoke, curious as to what she may find, her tiny feet rustle and crunch against beds of leaves. With her eye on the sky, Demia makes her way on towards the direction of the smoke and focuses upon the horizon. The sky was getting a little on the dark side of things, and though she was a little resilient, she couldn’t help but shiver at the thought of sleeping out in this cold.

“This spirit quest is dumb.” Demia puffs her cheek out, chewing her tongue for a moment before continuing forwards. Eventually, the trees fail to hide the fire’s source straight ahead…



Several tents, pitched up around the trees. Quite a lot of them too. It was not a small encampment; in fact, Demia looked around, and found herself unable to really count to the amount of people, and tents that were found across the area. A couple huge rams were posted nearby the edge of the encampment, and Demia noted a lot of humans --mostly unfamiliar faces, wandering the place. Many of them were equipped with weapons.

Firearms, strange weapons that she had still not truly fully began to grasp. Long barreled muskets, swords, and a few wore visible metal armour that left her curious. There were quite a lot of people around the area… Demia makes her way straight towards the camp.

And sure enough, a few people saw her approaching. She could see two men stop to look her way, one grabbing at the other’s shoulder to hold him back as he begins to approach the small girl so that they may meet halfway down the middle. Men and women stopped to stand so that they may watch her approach.

The man looks down at Demia, dressed in a heavy, leather overcoat that seems to be quite the standard around this encampment. At his hips are a pair of small handguns. His dark hair is neatly combed back.  “...You’re very young, where’s your parents? Are you lost?”

Demia shrugs her shoulders. “It’s my birthday today.” She replies absentmindedly, before pausing. “...And today is a super special day because I’m on my spirit quest!” ‘spirit’ sounded more like ‘spee wet’  coming from her young tongue, but it was enough to earn a few endearing looks from the few men around her.

“...Kids your age shouldn’t be out in the woods,” The man replied, nervously gazing over his shoulder towards a few others that were beginning to step closer to the scene. A few mutters and whispers are heard, prompting Demia to attempt bouncing on her heels to hear what they were saying, but the man clears his throat so that everyone may quiet down.

“Tell you what, tell us your name so I don’t have to call you kid so much, mine’s Clement” The man extends his hand, and with a confused look, Demia wrinkles her nose.

“What do you mean? I’ve been walking out here more than my entire village and nothin’ bad happens to me.” She says with a smile.

“...I am hungry, though. My name is Demia!” With that, the small girl extends her tiny hand and attempts a firm shake with the man, smiling with her pearly whites shown.

“Pleased to meet you, Demia! Well, if you’d like, we can have you here for dinner tonight. Plenty food to go around, wouldn’t want a kid like you to go starving.” The man replies. “All you gotta do is just answer a few questions from us, how about that?”

“...Um, okay.” Demia says, scratching the back of her head. Demia hardly knew what she could say or tell them, but her hungry belly felt like a hollowed out tree. Free food, who could turn that down?

“Come, follow me then!” Clement smiles and guides Demia on through the camp; she’d see several different tents along the way, along with a few odd gazes looking her way. Some seemed to stare or watch her as they made their way towards one of the many cooking pots placed over an open fire. Demia’s eyes simply didn’t bother meeting theirs.

She did feel a bit nervous with how many looks she was getting; though she was somewhat used to looks of admiration from her peers, she hadn’t really been to any place outside of Galdhall. Clement stands over to greet two others;

“Sandra, Maurice.”

Maurice, a somewhat plump looking man without any weapons or arms, regards them both with a bit of a smile.

While Sandra looks somewhat confused, dark hair tied down in a low hanging tail. “...Commander. She’s…”

“A bit young, I know.” Clement interrupts, prompting Sandra to nod her head.

“This is Demia. She’ll be having lunch with us before we head out,” Clement smiles and gently pats Demia on the shoulder, leaving her to regard him with a confused gaze as she takes focus on cooking pot.


Bubbling stew. A brown broth with a few chunks of meat floating amongst diced pieces of stewed carrots and potatoes. Skewered at the side of the dangling bowl were a few chunks of meat hanging from wood, smoked and drying from the heat over time.

“I know we’re strangers, so this must be...well, quite strange, but take a seat. You can trust us, we’re from Mordencrast.” Sandra assures her, scooping out a heaping amount of the stuff and placing it into a bowl, offering it over for her with a spoon already in place.

Mordencrast was definitely a trusted place to Demia; she hadn’t known much about it herself, but she knew the Volteroys were apparently friendly enough that the village elders regard them as friends -- and they also frequently sent them all sorts of fancy gifts and trinkets from their home. So surely, these soldiers were no different, right?

Demia’s hands took the bowl, and she took an experimental little bite of the stuff. It was...a little on the savory and salty side of things, but it tasted surprisingly good, if the meat wasn’t so tough.

“So, Demia...a few questions then. What do you know of Aine?”

Demia’s eyes briefly look up towards the man. Aine wasn’t really something she’s ever been taught of...but she knew the humans seemed to like him enough. She’d shrug her shoulders. “Aine sounds like a nice person from what you humans say. I would like to meet him one day.”

Maurice smiles, scooping out a bunch of soup for himself. “We all will, so long as there’s good faith,”

“That’s great to hear. Aine loves everyone, including you, Demia.” Clement smiles. “Now, you mentioned a village, yes? Does it have more lovely people like you?”

“...Like me?” Demia asks, tilting her head.

Sandra nods as she blows off hot steam rising from a spoonful of her soup, speaking before she takes a bite. “Elves, is what Clement means.”

“Oh. Uh huh...Galdie land has lots of Elves. It’s an Elf place, everyone there is really friendly, just like me, and we all have these pointy ears. Kinda ugly looking compared to your round ones.”  Demia replies.

“Good. Now, we’re honestly looking for a place to stay shortly after. Living out in the woods isn’t the...best of places,” Clement replies. “So could you just point in the direction you came from, leading us to Galdie land?”

Demia quietly turns over her shoulder and points directly behind her. “...Just go in a straiiight line, and you will eventually end up in Galdie land I think. I didn’t really move any other way from here. It’s not too far, maybe you’ll find it right before dinner!”

“I hope we do,” Clement dismisses her with a smile, nodding his head as he begins to step away. “I’ve got to head back for a moment, Demia, good luck on your spirit quest, but feel free to stay with us for as long as you need.”

Demia sips at the bowl of stew that was poured for her, finding a thin mustache of the stuff on her upper lip. “Uh huhhh.”

“You’re making a mess of yourself,” Sandra chuckles, offering over a napkin for Demia to take. The small girl wipes the stuff off her lip, and smiles brightly.

“So why are you guys here?” Demia asks.

“You probably shouldn’t know,” Maurice replies. “You’re a little too young, Demia.”

“Too young?” Demia frowns. “Nuh uh, I’m going to become a fully grown adult soon!”

A laugh rises from Sandra, she smiles and gently extends a hand to pat Demia on the head. “...Well if you must know, there’s a bunch of bad men that have been causing trouble in Mordencrast. So, we’re being sent to handle them. We’re going to want you to stay back and continue your spirit quest, okay?” She’d ask.

“...Uhh, okay…” Demia pauses before turning to take in her surroundings. What kind of bad person would be causing trouble around this place? She hasn’t exactly met or encountered anything dangerous in Mordencrast yet -- and she’s ventured from home plenty of times during her childhood. A childhood that was about to wane into adulthood. Demia knew the importance of her vision quest...she couldn’t help but feel like she was cheating with all these adults around, taking care of her like their child.



Demia ate with them and enjoyed much of what they had to offer in conversation; though she found herself a bit hard to relate with humans, she still felt it was really nice of them to provide her lunch to get her through this wintry night. Eventually, a loud bell can be heard echoing out across the camp.

“Hear ye, Hear ye!”

A tall man calls out, tolling a large bell with a simple clapper to gather everyone’s attention.

“All soldiers, prepare for the road. We’re moving out. Next checkpoint is directly west of the camp”

Sandra sighs, turning to gaze over towards Demia. “Well, Demia...wish you look on your vision quest. Just be careful out in the woods, will you? Wolves come around at night.”

Demia giggles. “Wolves? Pfft, they’re just fluffier dogs with sharper claws, I’ll be fiine!”


The soldiers all begin grouping up, packing their supplies up. Some were seen making their way into a larger tent before returning in metal armour, donning larger equipment than before. A bit of a dark thought sank into the pit of her stomach as she stood up from the cooking pot, bidding farewell to Sandra and Maurice as she made her way for the treeline. The idea of running into trouble didn’t sit well with her...though she wanted to follow them back home, she knew the spirit quest was important!


Still...it was just the first day. Surely, she’d be able to at least warn her village, right? Demia stops, and turns towards Maurice and Sandra as they begin turning around. She didn’t want to take her quest with the trouble waiting for her around in the woods. Her stomach sank at the idea of whatever danger threatening her. Although she knew no animal could strike fear in her heart before, this was a pretty sizable army. If whatever caused enough trouble for them to resort to something like this, surely it was dangerous?

Demia approaches them.

“...I can lead you all to Galdie land, I want you guys to handle the bad people before I take my vision quest. It’s too dangerous for me, and I want things to be safe around here.” She nods confidently.


“...Well, if you insist.” Sandra replies.


Returning to Galdie land

And so Demia lead the group through the woods. The forest of Mordencrast was as much a home for her as the house back in Galdhall. Simply replace the roof with a thin layer of twisted and gnarled branches in the Winter, and you have practically have no other difference!

Demia felt like a great leader. Like one of those people that get to walk at the front of the line with an entourage of followers that obediently travel the same footsteps she took. They had no real choice. If they really wanted to get to Galdie land, they’d all have to follow her, and that’s that! If Demia really wanted to, she could even lead them elsewhere...but good manners lead her astray from the idea of pranking these soldiers.

Once again her eyes were lost upon those branches that once carried the beautiful reds and yellows of autumn. Much like how her hair comes in similar vermilion shades and her skin mahogany. Demia always thought of herself as a little tree that never withered to winter’s cold.

Much like hands in the distance, the branches slowly peeled away to reveal an opening straight into Galdhall; they were now on the road, but Demia turns to smile as she looks over the group. “...Here we are!”

Demia looks over to Clement, who quietly steps forwards with her. He makes a gesture for his men to halt, one that Demia hardly understood.

“...I see. Well, thank you, Demia.” Clement nods his head. “We’ll be here later, alright? Forgive me for not trusting you, but we’ve left most of our supplies back at camp. We’re surprised Galdhall is so close to us.”

“Yup! Okay!” Demia shines a bright smile as she begins to step down through the forest. Twilight was beginning to touch the landscape. The sun was starting to slump on over the horizon, casting an orange hue within the cloudscape. Sadly, that deep orange shade would fade away to black soon enough. And already, Demia could tell it was going to be a cold night.
Bitter wind carried a chill that stung her skin. Regretfully, she’d turn to look over to the soldiers again. “Maybe we’ll see eachother again.”

Clement nods his head. “We will, I’m sure. Farewell for now, Demia.”

With the small platoon making their way back in the direction they came from, Demia shivers and finds herself wandering back into the town. A glum expression is carried along her face, and she now realized that she had...well, not changed much. No earth shattering event in the ‘spirit quest’ had left her feeling like a completely new person. No significant chance had happened. She was still just 13 years old. She was still only four feet tall. She was still just a tiny girl with nothing special about her.

Home sweet home she supposed. Fine wooden houses carefully constructed with accentuating grooves among the rooftops, with many buildings being no taller than two stories high. Most of the homes within Galdhall were simply...well, homes. Demia’s eyes wander through the town. Most of its inhabitants had gone sleeping or disappeared.

“Demia!” A voice speaks from the side. A blonde haired gentleman at a large wagon, now currently being closed off with several salts and goods being packaged away for later.

“Oh, hiya Lathan.” Demia attempts to look towards the peddlar’s way with a smile, but instead still remained sulking and dour. The girl couldn’t help but feel like she was about to disappoint not just her parents, but the town as well.

“Damn quick vision quest. Did you meet them?” Lathan asks, tilting his head.

“H-huh? Met who?” Demia tilts her head a bit. Before long, a few familiar faces were beginning to step out from their hold


A few people could be seen stepping out from their doors shortly after, apparently overhearing the conversation between the two. Some began approaching Demia, looking her way, many whispers could be heard, and a lot of them almost seemed excited -- and wanted to believe that Demia had completed her quest within a single night. Demia had proven to be quite the oddity. An early bloomer. A young prodigy, even.



Unfortunately, being a prodigy still wasn’t enough for her to quite finish her quest yet. It left Demia frowning. She couldn’t help but imagine all of those happy looks and gazes melting away to somber frowns or disappointed leers.

“Oh dear. You haven’t seen them yet?” Lathan frowns. “You haven’t erm...completed your quest?”

“Y-yeah…” Demia admits weakly. “I wandered around in circles for a while and the sunlight started going awayy, and since it’s so dark and cold...I thought maybe I could just spend one more night here before I go again tomorrow!” She says hopefully.

“Grrruumf!”

A large black bear darts its way across the street. Otso forces several Elves within the crowd to split aside as he quickly rushes to Demia, stopping only to deliver a sloppy lick across her cheek.

Demia’s glum expression fades towards a slight smile as she reaches to hug the head of her bear.

“Don’t worry, Demia. You’ll never disappoint us, you’ll never disappoint the people.” Varitan, Demia’s father, a thin, wiry and tall man makes his way around Otso.

“You actually came just in time. Your mother was about to make dinner for you but forgot you left. We were about to give Otso your food!” Her father laughs.

Otso gives a soft and glum little growl of complaint, almost as if he understood what the man had said. Demia giggles lightly as she gently pats the bear on the snout with her tiny little hand. “Don’t worry, Otso! I’ll share.”

“No need for that. Here, it’s your last day over in Galdhall for a while, so take this, Demia!” Lathan’s hand grabs hold of a large jar of honey, stepping around his cart to offer Demia the stuff. Poor Otso had to do all in his power not to snatch the thing out of the vendor’s hands -- wouldn’t be the first time he’s caused trouble for poor Lathan. He may have been a spice merchant, but when sugar and honey is included to that mix, it easily attracts giant bears that care very little about what’s between them and sweet, sticky gold.


Demia took the jar and wiggled it in front of Otso’s face for a moment. The bear’s beady little eyes stare longingly at the stuff, briefly licking at the jar, only to find that alas, it couldn’t taste through solid glass! “C’mon, let’s go home.” Demia chortles.

She was happy to see that no one seemed disappointed about the whole front. In fact, smiling, happy Demia was quickly found walking across the streets once again. No longer was she hanging her head in shame with a sour glower on her face. They all seemed to understand her predicament; she was lost, it was cold. Perhaps tomorrow would be a new enough day to start her journey, right?

Demia was hopeful, and her father gently patted her on the shoulder.

“Rabbit pottage with cherry pie. You came in at a good time.” He smiled.

“Oooh, cherry pie!? On the day I was leaving??” Demia pouts and puffs out her cheeks.

“Well. Your mother wanted to celebrate your first day of becoming an adult, we would’ve given you a choice on whatever you want once we get home!”

“Ookay.” Demia assents. Otso was beginning to get grumbly as they walked along. He really wanted to have that food. But soon enough, Demia could already see a woman working away to present the food. The silver-haired woman is known through the village for her cooking and pastries as Lyndra, but Demia knew her as her mother.

 Demia’s house was a little more well off than others; it included a fence at the front to cover over the white gardenias that sprouted in clusters across the otherwise lush and green space. The house itself is a simple one-story building. Modest in comparison to its yard, but they had to make room for Otso, after all! Several wooden benches were arranged outside, along with proper dining tables.

Demia’s mother didn’t consider Otso a pet, neither did her father, and it doesn’t even need to be said that Demia would consider her best friend something as lowly as an animal. No no, the black bear was her companion, and they fed him plenty...as did most of the village’s inhabitants. They had taken a great liking to the lovable bear.

Demia always thought herself weird. She did take somewhat after her mother; who also had brown skin contrasting from her soft hair. Both parents had so many different traits from Demia. But, then again, that just seemed to be what happened with Elves. She’s seen it in others; but none so much like...well, her.

Her mother was doing what she always did when cooking dinner, presenting it in the best way she could. She carefully stacked several large rolls of baked bred upon eachother, steaming wisps. Four of them total lay surrounding a black cauldron that smelled of sweet stew. Most importantly though, was the glazed, glistening pie next to it. Soft pastry bread that gave off a faint sheen from the glaze of honey placed over the top.

“My little sprout!” Mother smiled Demia’s way. The nickname rang true now, but Demia couldn’t help but do little cheek puff of feigned frustration.

“Soon I’ll be a big sprout!”

Lyndra steps over to pinch Demia’s cheeks, gently pulling her over into a hug. “Yes you will. I was going to use this recipe for when you got back home, but I suppose I’ll have to come up with something new instead, huh?”

“Uhhhuuhh!” Demia giggles and sticks her tongue out.

“Grrn!” Otso pokes his head between the two, eagerly staring at the food.

A collective laugh is heard among the Trig family, and soon Otso was desperately poking his snout against that large jar of honey Demia procured from Lathan.

“It isn’t dinner yet. Sit!”  Demia commands.

With a grumbly groan of complaint, Otso plops on his rump and gives the beady-eyed, begging stare that he always gave. It was almost like Demia slapped him in the face. Even though he probably wouldn’t ever feel such a tiny girl’s hand hurt him, he couldn’t help but look offended.

Lyndra quietly makes her way back to the table, carving out large holes within the bread to expose soft, fluffy white insides as she takes hold of a ladel to scoop out several pints of the pottage to pour into the bread bowls, which were in turn set upon porcelain plates to keep any of the good stuff from seeping out onto the table.




“Go on then, our friend here can bearly wait any longer.” Lyndra chirps.

“Really, honey?” Varitan shook his head and sits down at the table. Demia had to hold back her own laughter; her mother had always been making puns and quips the very day Otso joined the family.

Demia takes her seat and looks down at the pottage. It was a bit like that stew she had back over with the soldiers; though she knew mother’s cooking would always triumph over anyone else’s. Circular pieces of diced carrots swam in a rich gravy that surrounded hunks of rabbit meat, with faint hints of onion and celery swimming within. All contained inside a bowl of hardened bread.

With her spoon, she takes a scoop and bites into the stuff. It tasted much better. The soldiers back over in the forest had a strange and savory taste. But her mother always had that faint hint of sweetness that played with the spices.

“Yummy...Mommy, what do I eat when I’m out there?” Demia asks.

Lyndra takes the time to think over a spoonful of her own stew. “...Well, Sprout. It’s been a long time since I took the journey myself. Some 20 years ago, actually.”

Varitan speaks while Lyndra continues to ponder the answer. “The whole point of it is to survive out there with nothing but what our Fae ancestors had. Their hands. Or paws...branches. Anything they happened to have at the time. So, you eat what you find.”

“Ew.” Demia frowns.

“When you’re starving, trust me. Everything will look like your mother’s cooking. Well...okay, maybe not that good.” Varitan takes a spoonful of stew and bites into the stuff, pausing.

“...Okay, maybe not that great. But you get the picture.”

“Flatterer.” Lyndra chuckles.




GRRRMMF. Otso gives a loud groan. Demia didn’t realize it until now, but the poor bear was constantly grumbling and grumfing across the whole conversation, growing louder and deeper as they continued to deny him his sweet honey. Fortunately, he’d all but roar this time. And that was more than enough to catch their attention.

With a pop, Demia lets the wide cork lid of the honey jar fall off, before taking a large piece of bread and digging out a small hole of the stuff. She’d pour most of the honey down onto the bread.

Otso’s beady eyes almost sparkle with joy at the sight, and without hesitation, he chomps down the stuff, happily savoring the sweet, honey-glazed bread while Demia leaves the open jar out for him to finish and lap up.

Varitan laughs. “I’ll still never get used to him. But, Demia. Just don’t worry too much about things like that, alright? Trust me. There’s a reason our kind has done this change into adulthood for so long. Not a single person in this village has died from taking one, and our people have always been strong because of it.”

With a little nod, Demia smiles. “Okayy...But tonight, I can sleep here for now right? It’s so cold…”

“Of course, Sprout!” Lyndra lilts. Happy that her daughter was here; not a single ounce of disappointment in her. Her mother was...well, eager to have Demia home. Not out in the wilds, cold and shivering from the night wind. It warmed her heart just as much as the delicious pottage she cooked.

They’d eat and enjoy Lyndra’s cooking for that night. Demia’s belly was now full of stew and bread; and though she really, really badly wanted to try the scrumptious pie, she knew full well that she’d probably end up exploding if she ate anymore. Even though Lyndra hadn’t planned for Demia to return, Otso apparently lucked out too.

Turns out, they still had plenty of leftovers, and that meant a cauldron full of pottage for the fat, happy black bear. Tonight he’d eat well, and knowing that made Demia quite happy! The usual chatter and exchange came between them all. Lyndra made quips or bear puns, Varitan commends her cooking and talks of how well the trade between them and the Volteroy have been.