Robert Whiting In search of awesome

Bear dwellings


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 cave, as it turned out, opened up into a large cavern with tunnels leading off to various rooms. The walls weren’t the rough hewn, moss-slicked, dank things that you were picturing, no. The walls were even, polished, and decorated with candle holders and tapestries. The floors had carpets. Think great dwarven hall, but instead of a bunch of dead goblins and dwarven ancestors, it was filled with bears, light, and a lot of food.

When the boys woke up, they washed up and a couple bears escorted them to the throne room. There, upon a throne of antlers, sat the largest bear either of them had ever seen. Granted, the bears they had been walking with for three days were also the largest bears they’d ever seen. But still, this guy was big. He wore a golden helm that doubled as a crown, and his eyes glowed with a piercing green.

“Welcome to the Hall of the Clawhaven. I am King Beorn, of the bears.”

Danny bowed low, followed by Jimmy.

Danny said, “I didn’t expect to actually meet you. The voice said we never would.”

Buckets. Forgot that.

Saving the laptop <= Danny Rocket => Now about the mice