It was a harsh Winter for Bear. The snows had come early and went deeper than ever before into the forest where he lived. Bear’s little cave provided no shelter at all from the unusually wild winds and, as he was the smallest bear in his den, he found himself waking up every few days.

When he woke, the bright ball of fire was gone from the sky, making it colder still. Even though Bear wore a thick fur and had fat enough to shake when he walked, the freezing teeth of winter dug deep.

He was so cold that rather than go back to sleep, as he knew he must, Bear would carefully climb over his mother and father and make his way to where the precious winter food was stored. ‘Emergencies only,’ his father had warned him before they all snuggled down to sleep. ‘Emergencies only,’ whispered Bear each time he woke and looked at the food.

It was a simple enough matter for Bear to convince himself that waking at such an unusual time of year counted as an emergency. And so, quiet as a bear can be, he nibbled away at the stores.

Before very long all the food was gone, but Bear still kept on waking up. He still felt cold and of course, he still felt hungry. So he crept to the entrance of the little den.

Bear knew that he mustn’t go out of the den. ‘Emergencies only,’ his father had said before they all snuggled down to sleep. ‘Emergencies only,’ whispered Bear when he woke and all the food was gone.

It was a simple enough matter for Bear to convince himself that waking at such an unusual time of the year, when it was so cold and there was no food, counted as an emergency. So he tiptoed outside.

The winds howled even louder outside and the white ball of ice in the sky poured cold into the forest. The trees usually had thick boughs of leaves to shelter all the creatures of the forest but these were gone. Something dreadful must have happened, reasoned Bear.

Now, Bear was the helpful sort. He was training to be a big bear and knew that all big bears must be able to find things out on their own. Somebody had stolen the big ball of fire from the sky and he knew that he should find it. Had his mother or father been awake then that was surely what they would do.

Bear walked slowly through the forest. He didn’t want to wake anybody else. They might think it was he who had stolen the big ball of fire from the sky. Things were already difficult between many of the animals who lived deep in the forest and Bear knew that would make matter even worse.

Onward Bear walked. He wouldn’t get lost because bears, even small bears, knew exactly where they were at all times. He knew that as the trees became further apart, he would come to a clearing. He had been to this clearing once or twice but never went into it. ‘Emergencies only,’ warned his father each time they hunted together. ‘Emergencies only,’ murmured Bear as he stood on all four paws at the edge of the clearing.

The wind was so sharp and his stomach was so empty that Bear reasoned this must count as exactly the sort of emergency his father had been thinking of. So Bear stepped into the clearing.

There was a little house in the clearing. Bear had seen the little house before, of course. It was completely dark but Bear could make out the outline because of the big ball of ice in the sky. The beams of cold seemed to point at the house and Bear began to wonder why.

Perhaps, he reasoned, the big ball of ice was telling him something. Perhaps there was food in the house. Perhaps there was warmth. He knew that he must never go inside the house of course. It was dangerous to do so. ‘Emergencies only,’ his mother had growled each time Bear had asked her if he could go inside. ‘Emergencies only,’ Bear said as he moved to the little wooden door.

The cold was now so dreadful, and he was so terribly hungry, that Bear reasoned this must surely be the exact sort of emergency his mother had meant. So he pushed against the little wooden door.

The door opened easily and with barely any sound at all, just a low scraping noise which reminded Bear of when he ran his claws along the trunk of a tree to sharpen them. Bear had such sharp claws.

Inside the house, Bear saw one room. There were three chairs and a table and there was also one big bed. In the bed, Bear could make out three shapes: a large shape, a middle-sized shape and a tiny shape.

Bear looked at the biggest shape and thought how strong it looked. If only Bear could be as strong as this.

Bear looked at the middle-sized shape and thought how happy it looked. If only Bear could be as happy as this.

Then Bear looked at the tiny shape and thought how cosy it looked. If only Bear could be as cosy as this.

Beside the bed was a mirror and beside the mirror Bear noticed a dim glow.

He knew it at once.

This was the big ball of fire from the sky. These creatures had been the ones who had stolen it.

Bear had often tried to touch the big ball of fire in the sky but it had always been too far away. Yet here it was, dim because these creatures were trying to hide it, but within easy reach. Bear reached out his paw. He would take the big ball of fire and throw it back into the sky where it belonged.

He almost had hold of it when one of the shapes in the bed moved. ‘Emergencies only,’ came a quiet little voice, although of course Bear did not know this because he could not understand these creatures. Still, he pulled his paw away.

The shape in the bed moved more and sat up. It did not shout out to wake the others but stepped closer towards him.

Bear had tales about these creatures, of course. Everyone had. He knew they grew into fierce and frightening monsters who everyone stayed well clear of. He also knew the smaller creatures possessed strange and magical powers. He had seen the small ones tame the larger ones simply by holding tightly to their peculiar furs. So Bear did not move away when the littlest creature touched him.

The little one felt Bear’s fur and, sleepy as the creature was, mistook it for a blanket. Fingers dug deeply into Bear and the creature pulled hard.

Now, perhaps it was the magic of the creature or perhaps the magic of the big ball of fire from the sky, or perhaps it was both magics working together in some way. Whatever it was, Bear felt his fur loosen and come away. It did not hurt, but it did not feel comfortable either.

The littlest creature pulled and pulled until all of Bear’s beautiful fur came away. The creature gathered up Bear’s fur and climbed back into bed and fell fast asleep.

Bear did not know what to do. He felt colder and hungrier than ever before. He moved closer to the bed once more and thought hard. As he thought, he saw himself in the mirror. He had seen himself many times in the clear, still pools of the forest. But this was not who he saw.

In the stead of the Bear he knew, with a magnificent coat of brown fur, he saw one of the creatures. He knew at once that he should not have wished to be as strong as the large creature, or as happy as the middle-sized creature, or indeed as cosy as the littlest creature who had weaved a powerful magic and changed Bear into one of them.

Bear wanted to take back his fur at once but he was frightened. If he pulled at his fur then he might waken the littlest creature again who might in turn wake the two terrible monsters who lay beside. There was nothing he could do.

It was then that Bear remembered what his mother and father had told him should he ever find himself in an emergency. ‘Run,’ his father had said. ‘Run back to us,’ his mother had said.

Bear did not need to reason for long before knowing that this was exactly the sort of emergency they had both been talking of.

Bear ran.

Out of the house, Bear ran.

Out of the clearing, Bear ran.

Into the deepest part of the forest, Bear ran.

Into the den, Bear ran. There, sheltered somewhat from the cruel winds, were his mother and father. They had woken cold and hungry at this most unusual time of year. They had found Bear missing. They had found all their food missing.

Bear rushed to them and leapt into the warmth of his mother and father. Their fur was even thicker than his had been and immediate he felt cosy.

Bear’s mother and father, however, were confused. Bear smelled like Bear but he did not look like Bear. Bear hugged them like Bear but he did not look like Bear.

Both of them reasoned at once what must have happened. Those strange, violent creatures from the house in the clearing must have taken their Bear.

Mother howled with grief.

Father growled with fury.

Bear, their beautiful bear, had gone.

It was a harsh and terrible Winter for Bear’s mother and father. The snows had come early and they had woken at a most unusual time. Both of them were hungry.

With one quick blow, Bear was killed. And mother and father fed until Spring.

—
Illustration courtesy of, and copyright, Jools Wilson. Follow her on Twitter.

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