The bears mind wandered as he galloped towards the trees of his home. He suddenly began to remember all the good things about his life as a woodland creature. He began to reminisce about the warm summer days spent prostrate in the sun by the river, head dangling over the speeding water to watch the pink salmon struggle upstream, with a fond smile.
He suddenly realised he was panting and slowed his pace to catch his breath.. He never used to need to catch his breath when he was a younger bear...
But then he never smoked marlboro reds when he lived in the forest.
He looked up to find himself inside the darkening woods . He peered into the trees, his eyes adjusting to the darkness, when a tingling sensation of fear pulled at his stomach... Which way was home?
He continued onwards, ignoring the feeling of fear that prompted the desire for a cigarette and focused on the good things about his natural home. The squirrels, the flowers, the smell of pine trees, the softness of the soil beneath his feet... and best of all... the honey combs. How he had missed climbing trees to get to the sweet sweet nectar of the bees. When living in the city he had caught himself on more than one occasion in the morning, stopped outside a house, intently sniffing the air as the children inside spooned their chosen topping upon their toasted bread.. had had seen, only once, a singular bee hive, standing solitary in the cramped back garden of a house in the city. He had stopped in shock, watching the bees gather and swarm around the little white box with glee, happily tending to their days work...
He was happy to be coming home. He had missed the forest. and the company of other bears. especially one bear in particular... He let his natural sense of direction lead the way and yawned as the moon rose above him.
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