Date: 2007-02-06 06:18 am (UTC)
Oh, he doesn't plan on losing her. He doesn't lose anybody once he decides to start keeping track of them.

A covey of quail bursts up from hiding as he gallops past, wings whirring almost as loudly as the wind of the bear's travel. The landscape blurs and streaks past them, trees and bushes and grass alie swiftly smudging out on either side. It is, perhaps, not unlike an experience two girls once had in another world very far away indeed:

Have you ever had a gallop on a horse? Think of that; and then take away the heavy noise of hoofs and the jingle of bits and imagine instead the almost noiseless padding of the great paws. Then imagine instead of the black or gray or chestnut back of the horse the soft roughness of golden fur, and the mane flying back in the wind. And then imagine you are going about twice as fast as the fastest racehorse. But this is a mount that doesn't need to be guided and never grows tired. He rushes on and on, never missing his footing, never hesitating, threading his way with perfect skill between tree trunks, jumping over bush and briar and the smaller streams, wading the larger, swimming the largest of all.

Like that, save for the brownness of the fur and the lack of any sort of mane. This world is not quite to Belar what Narnia was to Aslan, but it's very close.

And then, as the great bear hurtles up a long, long grassy rise, the Tree heaves into view.

Its branches reach hundreds of feet into the air. Its sprawling limbs shade entire acres. Among its branches flit more birds than one might find in entire forests at home; and for someone like Suzi, it is impossible not to zlin a Presence that both welcomes and calls.
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Belar, Bear-God of the Alorns

February 2007

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