You too! All the good things I wish for you. :)

To be fair him complaining that he can barely read and write Mothurmal or Vithskapti is understandable, I can barely do the same lol.

Great story! I loved it. I was instantly enthralled.

If you were to imagine two angels cruising through the wilderness on a beautiful summer's day, you'd probably imagine a scene vastly different to the one currently unfolding...

"HURRY UP CLYDE WE'RE GONNA MISS HIM!" Angelica screamed at her coworker from the passenger seat of the small, inconspicuous truck as they tracked their next job.

Well, ordinarily they'd be inconspicuous. The Truck was perfectly designed to blend into the urban environment that they usually operated in, which meant they stuck out like sore thumbs on this backcountry dirt road. Luckily there was nobody around for miles to find their presence odd.

"I know we're running behind, which is WHY I need you giving me DIRECTIONS! You said he'd be on this road, but we've been driving for forty minutes and I ain't seen shit!" Clyde was usually the most laid-back of the two, and his uncharacteristic anger just served to put the pair even more on edge.

Being late on a delivery was bad news, cosmically speaking. Some really high up beings could get really pissed off.

"This stupid Calling Stone isn't working! Either that or this kid is literally lost in the middle of the fucking forest! The Stone's saying he's 2 miles, 3 o'clock, but the road should get us there eventually..."

At that moment, Clyde felt a buzzing in his pocket. Taking one hand off the wheel he fumbled for his phone and checked the alert, confirming his worst fears. "Fuck. We're not gonna make it, they've already begun the Summoning Ritual."

"SHIT! What do we do?!"

"We're gonna have to risk it for the biscuit. Hold onto your halo." Clyde gripped the wheel and yanked hard right, swerving the Truck off the road and barreling through the dense foliage at breakneck speed.

"AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!" Angelica wittily replied.

As the Truck raced through the thick forest, space almost seemed to distort around it allowing the otherwise bulky vehicle to fit through the trees with supernatural - and scientifically offensive - precision. A small ring of glowing energy appeared above Clyde's head as he guided the Truck through the maze of trunks.

"We can still make it! Gonna have to break a few speeding laws, don't let the Physics department find out about this!"

Invisible to any observers, but not the divine delivery drivers, a faint sheen of energy began to appear around the Truck, coating every inch of its surface. The Summoning Ritual was ready...

"FIFTY METERS!" Angelica cried. "We're gonna make it, I can't believe we're actually gonna-"

***CRASH!***

- - -

"Oh fuck. OH FUCK! OH SHITFUCK! WE'RE SO SCREWED!" Angelica cried.

Lying on the ground in front of the slightly dinged Truck wasn't the body of an unsuspecting high-schooler like they'd been expecting. No, the kid stood off to the side, looking slightly dazed but otherwise in perfect health. Instead what lay on the ground was the body of a full-grown grizzly bear, dead as a doornail.

Clyde pinched the bridge of his nose, attempting to stave off the headache that was threatening to take hold. He took a deep breath, trying to assess the situation objectively.

Objectively, they were screwed. He briefly considered attempting again to run the kid over, just in case. But the Summoning was a one-time use spell. They'd have to recast it from the other end in order for that to work. He did also consider just running the kid over for being all the way out in the middle of the fucking forest. Like what the heck man? Why?

"Erm- are you guys... okay?" The kid asked, eyeing the bent bumper of the Truck. "I think you just s- s- saved my life from that bear."

"Oh just shut it kid!" Angelica snapped, "I've had quite enough from you, you lucky bastard! Next time someone wants to summon you, why don't you just have the decency to be in a more populated, civilized, area like everyone else, huh?! Making my job a pain in the ass!"

"W- what?"

"Just leave him." Clyde said. "There's nothing for it now. Besides, it could be worse, at least we managed to send something instead of missing the order completely."

"But, but... this isn't right! The plan, the timelines, fate, destiny! Everything's off now!"

"Angie, when you've been in this business as long as I have, you come to realize that all that fate nonsense is nowhere near as strict as you think it is. It's all improv on the spot, hardly any real concrete planning at all."

"Really?"

"For our sake, I fucking hope so."

EDIT: Spelling

Fascination was betrayed in the wide saucers that were my eyes. Dim flickers of candlelight and dying embers of the once roaring hearth, shone only in faint hues of crimson and citrine. The Ancestor was vaguely familiar in shape, but the features of the beast were entirely fantastical and unnatural. Over the thin shrieks of the window outside my chamber, the soft, shallow breaths of the demonic Ancestor were all that could be heard. My breath had caught within my chest and my heart had seemed to cease it's hammering against my bosom.

The summoning circle had long since ceased to glow with the enchanting magic, the now scorched ash and soot of the materials being swept by some hitherto unknown force into the corners and crevices of the wooden floor. The stirring of the beast drew my attention to the hideous face it held. A single long probuscis dangled loosely upon it's chest and multifaceted beetle black eyes sat on either side of its head.

I knew the spell's side effects on the entity would soon give way and it would awaken. Quick hands, practiced and trained in the most basic elements of the summoning arts spread the salt and protective willow charms I had made for this purpose. A quick glance to the demon's head revealed a series of runes had become visible upon it's forehead between two armored stumps where horns must have once been.

Though the language was ancient, the runes archaic, the name they spelled brought a new, fresh wave of fear into my heart. Professors, scholars, teachers and tutors alike, with my father's patronage having afforded all manner of education and enlightenment for me in my youth, had warned of this name. A fierce, insectoid prince of Hell, a king of all scourges and pestilence, the gluttonous lord of flies.

"Beelzebub."

My voice had been soft, barely a whisper, but the simple utterance I'd given had lent a sudden start to the demon prince of Hell. Fear, confusion, amazement, all flooded through me as I tried to understand how this was my Ancestor. Had I made a mistake? Written a rune wrong? Spake a syllable in the ritual chanting and recitation incorrectly? I had known this spell was unlikely to be successful, and had been warned it may be dangerous, but my damnable curiosity had driven me to this moment. This would be my final achievement in life and yet also a resounding failure as there was no doubt I'd be soon dragged back into the depths of hell. Charms and scripture could only protect me so long.

"Yeah?'

I felt my body freeze, my hands turning clammy, and my heart dropping as the demon slowly revived and sat up. Those terrible, horrible, shining black eyes turned to look at me, into me, past me. They showed nothing but my own reflection a thousand times framed and silhouetted against the now fading firelight. I attempted to take a step back, but the demon was standing quickly, with speed beyond what even I would have expected of someone pulled through time and space. But the laws of the universe did not obey a being such as this Beelzebub.

"Wait."

The voice bade me to stop, to halt and wait it emanated from the base of the probuscis which seemed to undulate and swing freely, the end of which I now noticed tucked up and behind the demon. A large hand rose in an outward faced palm, and I raised my wand in defiance against the spell that was soon to come. But it never did, rather a second hand rose to side of the demons head and in an instant my mind was racked with confusion, relief, curiosity, and fear all over again.

"What is your name child?"

I felt a flood of questions and a wave of emotion wash over me as the deep voice spoke and filled the room. My eyes peering deep into the two pools of hazel that had once been hidden behind the insect-like plates. Comfort, sadness, heat and chills spread two fold as I swallowed back my fear and whispered a single word in response.

"Marie."

Beelzebub, Lord of the Flies, Dread Demon Prince of Hell, whom had once struck down the great Elvish Lord Roharadon and his legions, whom had sacked the ancient capital of the Empire and split the continent in two with great arrows and spells from above, the commander of legions of imps that had killed countless soldiers of the Grand Army of the Imperium...

Was Human.

"It's okay Marie. They won't ever hurt you again, now that I've been given my second chance."

It's a new day.

--------

Come to the Palace and face me. Let our swords cross one final time and give light to this blackened world.

The words woke him from his deep slumber, catching him suspended in midair, hovering above the waters of the Hollow. It was a wide expanse of deep, opaque water, flanked by arches of stone, coming together like the ribcage of an incomprehensibly gigantic beast. Beyond, a dark sun in perpetual eclipse bathed the world of Idris in a pale blue. Slowly, he righted himself upward and looked around, his eyes caught by the sight of a white line piercing the heavens from the horizon. He knew its source. With a surprising burst of speed, he pushed off and flew forward, the surface of the water exploding behind him.

His pitch-black fingers fell into the water, skimming through the first couple of inches as he sailed parallel to its surface. He could remember the sensation of cold he felt so long ago, before she came to claim Idris as her own. At the thought, his fingers hooked out of the water and curled into a fist, picking up speed with another explosion of water as he approached the miles-high cliff of Wayfarer's Pass.

He suddenly stopped on a dime right at its narrow entrance, sending a sharp gust of wind careening through its thin passages and small wave from behind rolling up from the surface, only for it to level out soon after. His ivory eyes scanned the pathway, remembering what was once a bevy of colors - brown, red, green, gold, brilliant purple.

Wayfarer's Pass was known as the litmus test for an explorer. It spanned across the entire planet, with walls so high it dared to push the world's atmosphere away from it. It separated the two halves of Idris from each other and was the only way through to the other side. If one wanted to make the journey, they would have to put themselves through the vice of the Pass' grip, a suffocating sojourn through the tightest corridors. If the claustrophobia didn't get you, if getting stuck didn't get you, the sudden shift of the Pass might, the two halves coming together like a sadistic puzzle piece and plastering you across its walls.

But he had flight. Why did she give it to him?

It was a question - one of many - that didn't leave his mind. He mulled it over as the water beneath him buckled and caved from the pressure of his takeoff. His body skirted the vertical surface of the stone walls, feeling the warmth they absorbed from the dark sun.

The sun was one of the last things to change. When she touched down on Idris, the planet was alive and full of vigor. Its people were happy, healthy, and welcoming. Now, they were just gone, a void. She tore everything from this place, everything except him.

Beyond the Wayfarer's Pass was a solitary building, built upon an island plateau. When Idris was alive, the building didn't exist. He came to call it the Palace of the Fell, because it was there where the planet fell into darkness and ruin. In the moments before the Blackening, it was a temple devoted to her. The people of Idris called her a goddess because her first words were "I can save you."

His eyes narrowed. Salvation was a nebulous lie.

As he picked up speed, torpedoing straight towards the palace, he outstretched his hand, conjuring a sword from the pale blue light of the dark sun. He found a firm grip on its handle as he landed with a slam on the black and gold floor of the Palace courtyard, sending blasts of wind out in all directions to violently sway the leafless shrubbery. He wasted no time, breaking into a full-steam sprint towards the arched entrance of the Palace, of which was flanked on both sides by two differing statues - one of her, and one that looked strangely like himself.

It caught him off-guard, forcing him to stumble, but he pushed the thought from his mind and continued forward, crossing the threshold and entering into the massive, cavernous chamber.

There, stood in the pinhole of light, was she, her dress flowing in the wind. Resting on her should was a large, thick blade of light, her hand firmly grasping the handle. She watched the light above, her head turning at an awkward angle to acknowledge him with her gaze as he entered the room.

He responded by closing the gap between them almost instantaneously, raising his sword above his head. The light of the dark sun glinted across his blade, reflecting a sliver of light across her eyes and, for the first time, he saw the true colors behind them.

His grip faltered. She was familiar.

The massive blade swung through the air.

Yo wtfffff amazing To anyone looking for explanation don't try to find it yourself and understand where it goes away from a children s bool

Tell us about yourself!

• Where do you live (State / Country)?
• Preferred pronouns?
• How long have you been on Reddit?
• How long have you been on r/WritingPrompts?
• Do you use r/WritingPrompts to read or write?
• Writers:
• How long have you been writing?
• What is your writing motivation?
• What programs do you use to write?
• How fast can you type? Try 1 minute on Aesop's fables
• Readers:
• How do you find prompt responses to read?
• Do you also write?
• if not, why haven't you tried?
• Want to share a photo? See our Photo Gallery!

I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please contact the moderators of this subreddit if you have any questions or concerns.

Oh kay this reminds me of my sister (not my blood sister but a found sister) went through all off this and man you just reminded me off it

Lol 😆 🤣 😂 😹 😆 🤣 😂

Thank you! Have a wonderful day and new year!

I love this! Thank you!

"Love is for fools," is what I used to say in the days before I met Arthur. A misguided journey that leads one not to happiness, but instead to the fractured life that comes as a consequence of irrational emotions. It seemed that those in love dropped all their pretenses and gave up the principles they held dear; right down to those most profound morals that guided them in the darkest times. For a brief moment, they entered an alternate universe where stark reality became a world of lollipops and sugar-coated smiles. Never did I meet anyone in love that didn't regret it later.

Arthur changed that for me. In him, I saw rationality take form. He refused to let go of his principles no matter how the wind blew. For him, morality and correct decisions were paramount. He would turn away anyone that tried to sway him otherwise. He was a rock. I just knew we were meant to be together from the first time we met and I spoke about the intricacies of stellar material. I knew his perspective was mathematic, built on things that were concrete, and I was taken by him at once.

In the beginning, I thought about Arthur day and night. I even saw him in my dreams, staring back at me with that same sturdy resoluteness that he always did. I imagined our life together, me taking care of things while he steered the ship. Oh, there was nothing I wouldn't do for my dear Arthur! So I did, devoting as much of my free time as I could to him. I had done this for quite some time when I realized that he never seemed to return the gesture. He was always solid and resolute but never caring. Never once did I see an expression of love on his face. Never once did he ask me what I was doing or how I felt, not that feelings should really matter. But it would have been nice, you know. Maybe, every once in a while it would be nice to listen to our feelings.

After weeks had passed and nothing had changed I lost any positive direction toward him. His plainness had gotten to me, the lack of words had become annoying. His stillness, so inviting in the early days, had come to feel like a pall of judgment, as if he was watching my every move and waiting for me to make a mistake. It took me a while to finally let go, to move on, but one night I glanced over at him on the ledge and made the decision. A tiny tear fell from my left eye before I went to bed. I'd move on now.

r/StoriesToThinkAbout

Wow! That is amazing!

In this instance, I chose the Beast Ball for Golisopod for two reasons, the first being the ball itself being an Alolan exclusive for all intents.

And second, Wimpod has a cowardly personality, and it retains that ability to retreat when evolved. I, and by extension Alexander as well, see that as Golisopod being cunning, quick witted, and all to well aware that brute force does not guarantee a victory. And so it is a Beast, a hunter and a warrior with no qualms of honor-only survival.

For Scissor, the Heavy ball used when they were but a Scyther show's Alexanders' research-knowing the light footed mantis would become an iron plated hammer when given the right tools.

And to show that Alexander see's them as the anchor of the team, durable, resilient.

Scolipede isn't seen as a prestiges mon, a brute and even in the anime highly aggressive with a little provocation.

But Venipede and Whirlipede both have a more skittish, almost mischevious nature, like a child not yet taught manners.

The Luxury ball brings to mind a spoiled sort, which combined with Scolipede's aggression and often defensive prowess becomes a sort of Noblesse Oblige-Galahad is named as a knight because in many ways they are, in the way they carry themselves and the weight they throw around by pedigree.

Armaldo being a shrimp lends itself to the Net ball-as does the fact that being an extinct species means that Gillian is by and large alien to world, out of time and place. Caught from the void and brought back to life like a fish from darkest depths dragged to the surface.

Alexander cares for Gillian, but he's also well aware of how Gillian shouldn't be, and is by a moment of weakness-to have such a creature by his side as he'd dreamed of as a child, only for regret to tinge their partnership.

The Friend Ball signifies both the loyalty of a Volcarona raised from egg to fiery marvel, and the aid Volcarona and Larvest both give to a breeder-warming and tending eggs while shielding them from any threat, and the trust that builds between them in the protection of those unborn.

Valkyrie is a special case-originally given to Alexander as an egg, and the ball given for when she hatched chosen by another.

Alexander isn't one to say who, but a Master Ball is no small trinket, rarely used and even rarer to find in a civilian's hands.

Valkyrie is special, not by stats, pedigree or even skill, but as the first Pokemon to be at Alexander's side, and one that had stayed through thick and thin.

Alexander didn't choose the ball himself, but as with all things, they've chosen to take it as a chance to be a master of their own fate, and to trust their friend as completely as the Master Ball can catch anything.

A little shallow, a little deep, but with the care and flourish of one that cares for the ones at their side should be.

Not gonna lie, I kinda forgot I was on reddit and thought I was watching a legit movie here. Damn this is good, it could totally be a book!

I loved this, great writing I would love to see a possible continuation perhaps the battle or maybe the aftermath Anyhow keep up the great work

"Organic life sample, local-Orion Arm, Antares-7," Science Officer Second Lucinda Saylor placed the liquid sample from the foaming terrestrial seas of Antares-7 into the micro organizer, and watched numbers spin across the viewscreen. Her cybernetics would be recording and relaying the information to the ships log, but she enjoyed the simple pleasures of a bit of commentary to help the analysis along the chain to earth easier. "Largest recorded organism is approximately eight micrometers, standard size array about 7 micrometers on a four standard deviation spread - mean is 1.5 micrometers. Lacking upper end sizes on microorganisms indicates an early stage microbe development."

She left off the word again. Pentrating radar, thermal analysis, and calorimeter samples all concluded the same thing - there were once again no creatures significantly beyond the development level of picoplankton. Humanity had so far only surveyed perhaps 40% of the Orion Arm, but so far the second great filter hypothesis was holding up well. One hundred and forty seven planets thus far had shown evidence of microbial life, with thus far zero instances of multicellular life discovered. Eight planets thus far had proven somewhat suitable for human life. Antares VII was just on the outer edge of that categorization, the dual stars providing more than enough heat even at nearly the orbital diameter of Eres. The planets magnetosphere was compromised however, so terraforming would be rather expensive. No finder's fee for this one.

A stray thought directed into her cybernetics opened a comm link to the first science officer, "eight μm, I'll let the survey team know to pack it up. If you want you can be the one to tell the captain to pack it up," she sensed acknowledgement of the transmission and added another stray thought, "even with the magnetosphere, she's pretty tectonically stable, maybe a 3% bonus?"

The laughter she sensed in her mind was pretty dismissive, "best not to hold your breath." Thanks Jakob, always great with morale. She set about zeroing out the survey equipment, next on their path was Betelguese. Guess someone had a thing for binary stars this cruise. Maybe this time they'd find a Eurkaryote. Now that would be worth some cash.

Omg! I want to see this made into a movie!!

The city of Tofrahaeth had been abuzz for nearly a decade over the magical prodigy that was Michael of the Arbaeli family. He could bend the elements to his whim, explain complex concepts in terms even of a five year old could understand, and create magical items that would surely bring about a revolution in the kingdom of Orkugarthur in the near future. What he couldn't do, however, was summoning magic.

It was a damn shame that he wasn't me.

I would have given anything to be Michael, growing up. To see him, to know him, to learn from him. But we lived worlds apart - he was a noble of Tofrahaeth, and I was living as the son of a lumberjack in the outskirts of a little village two days away called Dulskog. What we lacked in people we made up for in trees with rainbow bark and silver leaves. Artists would visit our town to paint the trees and forest, but to me, they weren't really anything special; just a way to put food on the table.

My father assured me that one day I would follow his path in chopping down and processing trees to be exported to the city for a variety of goods. It wasn't a fate I wanted for myself, and truth be told, while I was no Michael Arbaeli, I had a secret of my own: I could do magic.

I had never held a proper wand or staff in my life, but I had discovered at a young age that the dreams I had of circles with strange shapes and unfamiliar writing were actually used in summoning. The words were lost on me; it would be a miracle if I could read them, because I could barely read and write Mothurmal or Vithskapti. I wasn't a noble or even a merchant's child, so why would I know how to read or write in the first place?

The act of summoning was actually pretty simple: you would draw the circle as required and then say... anything while thinking of wanting to have company. I don't know if this is how summoning was done in Tofrahaeth, but for me, it was sufficient. I had summoned all sorts of creatures and beasts in this way, though they always departed after half a day's time.

One night, I went to bed, wishing that I too could come to be as well known as the prodigy everyone spoke of. Over the course of the night, I had an unusual dream. There was a circle, yes, that I saw. But there were eyes. Many, many eyes. And a feeling that someone... or perhaps, more accurately, someTHING... was watching me. I woke up in a sweat from the dream and pondered if I should dare draw out the circle that had caused me such unease. But why else had I dreamt of it, if not to bring it to fruition?

I got changed and set out in the darkness into a small clearing in the wood where I usually drew my circles. Nobody would dare come this deep into the forest, especially at night. Indeed, there felt something eerie about the woods tonight - normally, the moonlight and starlight would reflect off the rainbow bark of the trees and produce a faint sparkle of color in every direction. Instead, there was just a thick darkness that choked the light out of the forest.

Perhaps that was my second warning, with the first being the feeling in my dream, that I should stop. That I should turn back. But still, I pressed on to the clearing. In the darkness, I took to drawing out the summoning circle as I had dreamt it. It was clear in my mind, clearer than they normally were. When I finished, I found myself staring at a large, complex image carved into the dirt. Despite the signs, I held my hands out in front of the circle and focused my intent: I wanted something to give me company, something that would help me be as well known as Michael Arbaeli of Tofrahaeth.

In an unusual display, red light began to spread along the lines I had carved until they all connected. Then, a column of light erupted forth and the earth shook, causing me to fall. Slowly rising from the ground came an enormous, wriggling mass of dark violet tentacles, the ends of each showing a luminous red eyeball. When it was finally finished emerging from the circle, it was taller than the trees and had knocked over several.

My body shook all over in terror. "Wh...what!" I couldn't help but speak as I backed away on all fours, not turning away from the creature. In that instant, all of its many-tentacled eyes focused on me, and it seemed to hunch over, glaring down at me.

"... child of mine," it intoned, sickly-sweet voice coming from I-don't-know-where. "We have much to discuss."

Reminds me of Typhon(Re:Zero) authority, when she touches someone, they'll break down and die if they are too sinful or feel too much guilt/self hatred

in other cases nothing will happen or they get a bit/severe damage

My bois! Do you have Shedinja somewhere there? Or vicavolt for additional punishment?

Oh dear, I teared up. This was lovely. Thank you🥰 Going to share that with my family.

His nick name wouldn't be "Lucky" would it? ;)

I like this. I look forward to seeing part 2!

The smartest person grumpiest bear becomes the lowest noble in another world!!!

Brum brum

The engines revved and a spill of oily smoke spat into the cold night air, the cherry red paint on the moving truck was blotched in places from over zealous use of an automated car wash service. Truck-kun mulled over the latest order in a long line of increasingly bizarre and demanding requests from otherworldly entities, but it was a living. The decepticon sticker plastered over his rear bumper plate shimmered in the crimson glow of a half cracked tail light. The cargo was empty, but the delivery was about to go down.

The road was secluded and dark, trees lined either side of the lightless stretch for what could be an eternity. Truck-kun lurked behind the only other source of light, a billboard for the local McDonalds, seven miles along the road. The delivery order stated the target jogged on this road every night from 9 pm til 10, just enough endorphins to keep that genius level mind ticking over til morning. He rolled into the pitch black bitumin and sped down the road, flicking his headlights into highbeams, catching sight of a human figure up ahead. The reflected light from the fog revealed an empty cabin, Truck-kun had no need of a driver, for he was the truck.

He'd done this countless times now, more then he would admit, it was becoming shamefully common. The Isekai gods had glommed onto a pattern that worked, and rather than put some thought into how they pulled their heroes from the mortal plane, they sent a sms to Truck-kun. Still, a Truck had to keep diesel in it's belly somehow. A simple swerve and activate the soul deliverer, and the job would be done.

He shrieked as his brakes engaged, swerving into the gravel shoulder of the road, catching sight of a larger shape looming over the human, slashing upon it with terrible claws. Oh shit, that thing was in the way, and more besides, the human's throat was slashed out by the gruesome claws of a massive grizzly bear. It was too late to disengage the delivery now, the front bumper of Truck-kun impacted the bear leaving both worse for wear as the soul of the wild creature was transported to some far flung alternate dimension where ridiculous and overused tropes would occur. Truck-kun would rather watch American idol than subject himself to the vageries of some escapist tripe. Limping down the road to a nearby repair shop to get his front bumper replaced, Truck-kun set about texting an apology message to the Goddess who had ordered a veritable genius and instead been delivered a hungry bear.

​

Bears do not concern themselves with the concerns of mortals, or immortals

​

Bear roared as he went to rend his prey's guts from it's torso, the darkness of night giving way to an ever brightening and unexpected early dawn that quickly became a solid wall of pain. For a moment he floated in an endless expanse of that blinding light, uncomprehending of what bizarre event had snatched him away from his first proper meal in two days. Where prey had once been plentiful he had found the humans encroaching deeper and deeper into his territory of late, and the deer he had been so fond of becoming scarce. To put further misery into his troublesome life, the elder bear had even had to contend with those same humans trying to hunt him. The undisputed lord of the forrest realm! He snarled to himself as the endless light of every star gave way to solid wood beneath his leathery paws, and the muted dimness of candlelight. There before him sat a human, soft and pink, but emanating an aura of power that filled Bear with animalistic dread.

Averse to fire and stricken by fear, he growled and lifted himself up upon his haunches, making himself big to seem more a challenge. The human woman didn't seem scared of his theatrics, so he swiped at the air powerfully and roared loud enough that spittle rained across her form."Sit down please," said the Goddess, and Bear found himself sitting without thinking, or moving if he thought about it. He blinked, for he had never met a human who spoke Bear, or a Bear that spoke Bear."This is quite the pickle Truck-kun has left me in, and the target dead besides, for which we have you to thank," she prattled onwards and onwards, a veritable brook of words bubbling from her mouth like a spring thaw. Bear finding his mind wandering as he sniffed the air, smelling honeysuckles and oak, the babbling sound of the Goddess an unconcerning buzz in his twitching ears. As black eyes searched the room for an escape, of which there seemed to be none, he found himself settling back on the woman for she had begun to exude an air of irritation as if he had the bad graces to cross into her hunting grounds.

"Well?" she asked, and Bear found himself speaking for the first time ever. "Well what?"She gasped in exasperation "Didn't you listen to a thing I said?" Bear shook himself all over and growled a curt "Nope". Her scent said angry, but Bear couldn't tell a single thing from human body language, should he be remorseful? It wasn't in his nature, so he merely blinked and waited.The Goddess gave an indignant shriek and launched into what must have been another rendition of her world altering speech, for which Bear did not care, though he made sure to pay enough attention to wait for the question at the end which would free him from this tree hole. Half the things she said had no translation into the thoughts of a bear, so he grunted a few times to seem interested like when he had found a particularly honey filled hive nestled within the hollow of a tree.

"You can have one boon to help you in this quest, what would you have to aid you as a human noble?" she said, her tone flicking upwards at the end which seemed to be important to her speech.Bear growled, a human? "Like forrest fire I'd be a human. I want to stay a bear" he growled, still unable to stand from where he sat to fully express his rage at such an injustice."You wish to remain a bear? But how will that work, everyone will lose their minds."To which Bear sat and pondered, the solution so simple, though he cared not one bit what this quest was. "Then for my boon, I'll stay a bear, but no one will see."The Goddess blinked, a slight twitch in her eye that Bear did notice, and congratulated himself on noticing. A clear sign of human approval?"Very well, waste your boon. Do not forget your quest, or I will be ruined" she said, and Bear felt reality melt away into cold all-encompassing starlight once more.

Reminded me of the Movie Maintenance Podcast’s episode about The Hunger Games.

I’d read a book with this premise.