I suppose, given my avatar here on Twitter, I should be relating to Squirrel *smile* but heh ... KingPumpkin is on my mind. (I just now fed Cat supper. And, surprise surprise, he told me that he didn't think I'd served him nearly enough. We do that, he and I, most evenings. heh)

I'm thinking you're a bird of some sort ... I usted to watch the grey heron off our point, the morning mist a-swirl in the cat-tails, as a child ... but birds are quite beyond my ken.

So ... what comes to mind in the moment, by nature: Bear rambled along, following the ebb and flow of berry bushes, row on row, down to the edge of the brook. One berry as though popped out between his fat juicy lips and as though danced on his nose ... catching his fuzzy-wuzzy eyes and drawing them down towards the brook as *plop* it fell into the water.
Bear was pondering, still, gazing at the berry, bobbing on the surface, and then quicker.than.you.can.have.the.thought *thmup* the berry was gone ... and bear found himself looking into the prettiest face he'd ever seen. (More than pretty, really, but Bear wasn't big on fancy words.) The face was pretty, the eyes were tiny, the skin was blue-silver-gold like autumn-sun in misty morning and there was gills and fins and tail and much much more than Bear could ken.

== and friendship began ==

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