Not far from here, there is a place rooted in old magic. The forests are deep and cool; teaming with birdsong, colorful mushrooms, and the smell of damp and fertile ground.

Young Bear lived in these woods with his mother in a den they called home. One day Young Bear was out searching for berries. He checked all of his spots, and came up empty. The idea of berries was so firmly planted in his head, that nothing else would do. (Young Bear was not very old, so he hadn’t yet learned that sometimes the best course of action is to pivot.)

He walked further and further into the woods. He walked further than he had ever walked before. In his search for berries, he got a little turned around. Young Bear wasn’t worried. It wasn’t even dark yet, and he was sure he could find his way back. Most importantly, sweet delicious berries.

As he came upon a dry river bed, Young Bear lumbered down to look for the illusive fruit he was so desperate to find.He heard a slight rustle to his side, and looked around. As he looked down to his side, he saw an Ayetoofey!. Now Young Bear had never met an Ayetoofey, but he had heard stories from his mother as he was curled up for bed.  

Because these creatures are no longer known,  I guess the best way to imagine them is akin to fairies without wings. They were quite small, quite witty, and extremely mischievous. They held a grudge when crossed, and often used soft magic to trick the targets of their mischief.

Young Bear didn’t know they would be so little! His mother made it seem like they were a creature of which to be weary, but how could he be scared of something so small? (Because of his diminutive age, Young Bear hadn’t yet realized that it is unwise to judge a book by its cover.)

The Ayetoofey spoke to him, “Young Bear, I think you may be looking for berries, but you are too far from your den. Let us lead you back home, it’s time for bed.”

Young Bear was suddenly angry. He wouldn’t let this small creature dictate his bed time, when all he really wanted with the sweet juice of a ripe blackberry.

Seeing his rising ire, the Ayetoofey changed tactics, “I know of a beautiful patch of berries. They’re ripened by the sun of the day, but the juice will be chilled since night is quickly approaching. I will need to call my friends to make sure we can find it. Then we will take you back to your den.”

Young Bear eased his shoulder, shook his head, and gave a gleeful snort. Berries at last. (And then sleep. He was getting pretty tired.) He looked around as an Ayetoofey clan emerged from behind the trees and brush.

They lead him down the bed of the creek. The creak was mostly dry, and unfamiliar. Young Bear’s stomach growled. The little creatures surrounded him as they marched down the creek bed. Suddenly it dawned on Young Bear. He knew exactly where he was. The Ayetoofey had tricked him by drying the creek. He wasn’t being led to berries, he was being taken back home.

Young Bear was very very angry. Because age had not yet granted him the wisdom to know that sometimes anger can be exasperated by hunger, he wanted to let his anger be known. He snarled his teeth and reared up on his haunches.

While the Ayetoofey are not generally known to be scared, they knew that their individual magic was only slight in comparison to Young Bear’s strength and outrage.The Ayetoofey looked at one another and silently nodded. Young Bear’s rage was growing and growing, and something needed to be done before any real damage was done. Besides, the Ayetoofey didn’t stand for acts of imbecilescence. 

They quickly surrounded Young Bear. Gathering up all of their collective power, they used what little magic they could muster and slowly started to glimmer. As their glimmer grew brighter, Young Bear became rooted to the ground. 

His paws felt heavy as he sat on the ground. His legs stilled, his belly felt full, and his head became empty to all thoughts of anger. Young Bear was slowly turning to stone.

The Ayetoofey had used so much magic turning Young Bear into stone, that their glows had begun to blink. They were levitating gracefully as they drifted away from each other, unable to stop the power of the magic from turning into an entirely new creature. The fireflies danced over the stone bear, singing sad lullabies for the next century of nights.