Writing Danny Rocket is really fun, but I’m going to burn out if I start writing for a specific audience. I’m excited that people are starting to read & share it, but I don’t want to lose sight of why I started writing that particular story. The structure of the story is such that I can do whatever I want with the world and characters at any time–and only to be written for fun. It is my anti-writers block mechanism. If I’m not careful, it will become my only writing mechanism.

After the introductions, Beorn invited Danny and Jimmy to eat with him while they discussed important matters. They all sat at a large table with at least ten other bears and filled their plates with all kinds of berries and nuts.

Beorn listened to the tale of how Danny received the sword and the journey he had all the way to the table where they sat.

Now, I realize that the interactions with the mice turned out to be very short lived, and pending some bright flash of creativity to tie them back into the story and allow some major monologues, their backstory won’t ever be told in earnest. So we’ll take a small break from our “hero” and focus on the tiny, powerful, robed mice.

After the bears gathered their wounded, buried their dead, and cursed the mice, they all set off through the mountains again.

Danny and Jimmy walked or rode, though considerably less bound than before, and when they arrived at a small cave entrance at the edge of the snow line, they were so exhausted that they immediately collapsed into guest room beds.

The stone golems swatted at the bears, which put the flight from the bears earlier that day into a little perspective. He looked from golem to golem trying to pick out the tiny mouse on each shoulder.

As he scanned across the mice, one locked eyes with him.

Barzilaih, the deep voice spoke in his head.