The Thorn Bear: Chapter III, Part 2
At the edge of a cliff, waves roar below him and crash against jagged rock. The Crystal Lake, its water so clear that the swaying algae on the bottom can be seen.
“Stop, little one. The drop is deep and the landing hard. We’d better go around. After all, neither of us can swim.”
The not-a-bird-not-a-goose-maybe-duckling listens and is already turning around when Teddy’s stomach growls.
Not his own.
After all, he is a toy and does not feel hunger. No, it is the chick’s stomach. Long and deep, almost threatening.
“I’ll get you a worm in a moment,” the bear reassures his little one, but the feet stamp restlessly on the grass and the beak peeking through the gap trembles, sniffing and scenting the air.
In the shadow of the forest, patchy, unkempt fur takes shape. It peels itself from the undergrowth like a snake shedding its skin.
The marten has crept up on them.
Followed them for weeks.
Found them, determined to finish his feast.
He has grown thin, his eyes sunken. His nose cracked and sore. Never taking his glassy stare from Teddy’s belly, he wants it! Wants it so desperately that he cannot rest!
“Run,” the bear calls. “Run past him or jump over him, just like before. You can do it. It’ll definitely work.”
But the marten is prepared. He has devised plan after plan for every possibility. If they jump, he will dodge aside and bite. If they try to slip past along the narrow sides that lead right beside him, he will bite then as well. With the cliff at their backs, they are trapped and completely at his mercy.
“You can do it,” the bear reassures his little one again.
And indeed, the legs begin to run.
But not past the marten or over him.
Toward the cliff!
“That’s the wrong way!” the bear cries, but it is too late. They plunge into the depths. Fall toward the lake and break into the bitterly cold water.
Water closes around them and drags the creature down toward the algae. Teddy paddles with his arms, but it does no good.
His chick kicks with its feet, yet they continue to sink.
When they strike the sandy bottom among the tangled plants, panic rises inside Teddy. As a toy, he does not need to breathe, but his little one, the chick, will drown. Fighting against the water is hopeless; the bottom pulls them down and refuses to let go.
“It’s dying,” Teddy thinks as the beak searches desperately through the gap for fresh air. He has failed in his task, unable to reunite the little one with its parents. Instead, they will rest forever in this watery grave.
Riiip.
Where his fluffy little tail once was, there is something new. Long and flat, like a paddle, this tail is bound in leather. With a single sweep, it carries Teddy two meters away from the algae-covered bottom.
A second stroke, and the safety of the shore is close. A third time, the tail slices through the water, and in a high arc bear and chick burst through the surface, fly through the air and land on the sandy beach.
Fresh oxygen! Teddy’s fur dripping with water, the beak gasps for breath.
Teddy is relieved.
Relieved that nothing happened to his little one, that they escaped the marten and survived the fall. Escaping the Crystal Lake borders on a miracle, yet as he looks at the paddle-like tail, he thinks once again, “What in the world is inside me?”
The tail resembles that of a beaver, but those animals do not hatch from eggs. They are born alive and are herbivores. Gracefully, the powerful tail lashes through the air, tenses for a moment, then lowers calmly. The chick’s previously clumsy steps are now steady and sure, because the tail balances them with effortless elegance.