Hibernation

Lucy Campbell 

“Granoldi’s dying” whispered Murmur to Francis solemnly. “The old bear has been wistful - he just lays in the rock house and will not move unless I prod him. I made him broth and yet he refuses, I took him conserves, preserves, mallow and then sweetmeats - and he will take none. I think it is his time.”

Lisle, a visiting brother from the Community of the Righteous, took it upon himself to interject. “It's wintertime” he said knowingly.

“That it is” said Murmur considerately, and then he continued talking to Francis, “I think we shall have to prepare. None of my powers will restore him.”

“He’s from the North isn’t he?” Lisle interrupted again.

“Yes, he is”, said Murmur looking at the sky.

Returning to Francis he continued, “I am coming to the last of our tonics and I am wondering if we should believe this to be malady whereupon I should go gather or purchase more medicinal draughts for the old boy, or accept it is age and let him be? In your considered opinion, what is to be done?”

“He is a bear, this Granoldi, isn’t he?” Lisle asked again.

Francis looked at Lisle and slapped him cordially on the back. “Too true fellow Lisle, too true!”

“It is but his Winter’s sleep,” Lisle explained.


- Gabriel Brunsdon, AZLANDER: NEVER ENDINGS: Second Chances