A polar bear on the way to Insor - part 2

For Esther, Gudrun, and all the others, who carry the spider within them –


He gently cradles the sleeping stilt creature in his mighty arms and listens to its breathing, calm and steady – like the flow of a hidden forest stream. The small body is completely relaxed, as if the creature senses that nothing can happen to it at the side of the little murmurer – in the arms of a strong bear who should have been gone long ago. By bus. No, Chiara wrinkles her nose in her sleep. No, she dreams, not by bus. By Dus – on the way to Insor...
Over the hills, the sky begins to change color. First pale pink, then inky blue with a hint of orange – as if someone had dabbed watercolors across the sky. The bear raises its head. He knows that darkness doesn't just bring sleep. It also brings movement. And sounds. And sometimes something worse.
But it's still peaceful. The air smells of leaves, snow, cold stone, damp fur—and the hint of elderberry rising from the creature's hair.
"I'll take good care of you," First of Four murmurs barely audibly into the silence, as if he had to promise himself what has long been certain.

A dry branch breaks somewhere in the undergrowth.
The bear slowly raises its head. Its ears turn toward the sound. It wasn't an animal sound—too forced, too suppressed. Another crack.
The stilt creatures.
They're coming.
Chiara mumbles something unintelligible in her sleep. Her forehead wrinkles briefly, then calms down again. The bear releases a protective grip and carefully stands up. The wooden bench creaks softly under his movement. His breathing is now shallower, more tense.
He freezes.
The air suddenly seems heavier, thicker. Every sound seems too loud, every shadow seems to be getting closer. Instinctively, First of Four puts a powerful paw under his armpit—a little comfort, a little distraction. He'd love to suck on his cucumber right now, just to calm himself down. But as he looks around, he realizes the cucumber must have gone missing somewhere.
His gaze sweeps over the ground, over broken twigs and crushed leaves—no trace of the cucumber. But there, barely visible in the snow, he spots something else: the quack frog.
"Ah," murmurs First of Four, picking up the small device. He examines it for a moment, turning it over and over in his paws. Then he deftly tucks it away in the fold under his armpit.

What would the stilt creatures see in him? In this shaggy, powerful figure that seems so out of place in their orderly world? A wild, ravenous bear? A nightmare from another world, with sharp claws and bloodshot eyes? Or simply a lazy neighbor sitting here on a creaky bench, taking a little nap—and, as luck would have it, just missed the last bus?
He snorts softly, lets his shoulders slump, and waits.
"I'm glad you chose such a cozy spot."
Cool.
Strange.
Or... not quite so strange?
It's not in a bear's nature to immediately flee at the slightest sound of danger. He sits still. Only his ears twitch.
Slowly, almost heavily, he turns his head.
Behind him, perhaps two steps away, a silhouette. Thin. Hunched. And once again, that voice, cut like jagged ice floes.
"It's just a shame you have to die right away."
A moment of silence, heavy as wet snow.
A few heartbeats of silence. First of Four squeezes his eyes shut, as if that could steel himself against the disaster that would follow.
"So that's how you treat the human child, you brute?" growls Wilhelm, pressing himself catlike against his side. "I really should give you a few slaps on the paws! That's how it's done in our circles—anyone who doesn't behave gets a good slap on the paws and has to sit in the corner for a while. That would really suit you right now. So irresponsible!"
First of Four blinks in surprise, then chuckles embarrassedly. "Wilhelm! I'm so happy to see you! I thought it was over for me!"
"You came close, you fool!" Wilhelm hisses sharply. "And you still are."
"Oh, Wilhelm... please don't be angry."
"Oh no? Do you have any idea what you've unleashed here? Probably not! Why didn't you just do what I told you? Why didn't you go back to your cave? That stupid idea with the bus! Well, I guess I have to blame myself too. Now we're in trouble!"
"Yes, now we're in trouble!"
Wilhelm sighs and wags his tail impatiently. "Oh, shut up." Then he gestures with his head at the girl. "Is she asleep?"
Wilhelm quietly approaches the creaking wooden bench and sniffs Chiara's thick fur-trimmed jacket. He grimaces briefly and clears his throat. "What these human beings wrap themselves in... smells like a dead cat."
He snorts softly, half disgusted, half amused.
"Well – one less of those morons out there."
Then he raises his head, fixes his gaze on the bear, and hisses: "But now to you, my friend. Explain to me why you're still here."
"Chestnut-head..." murmurs the bear with shining eyes, rolling his gaze dreamily upwards and grinning from ear to ear – the way only lovers do.
"You know – I've never seen such a friendly and beautiful stilt creature. I think we could travel to Insor together. To the kind queen. You know—we've discussed everything in detail!”
Wilhelm blinks in disbelief.
“Wait a minute… wait a minute. Don't tell me you're talking to the human child?!”
“Why not?” the bear asks innocently.
The two are so engrossed in their discussion that they don't notice Chiara slowly waking up and sitting up. Still half in a distant dream, her frozen red hands grope for her gloves, slip them on, and take a deep breath.
A vague sense of unease warns her not to get up too quickly—the risk of attracting the attention of her possible pursuers with a careless movement is too great.
A few seconds pass before she dares to raise her head.
She expects half the city to have already gathered to shoot the bear.
But when she opens her eyes, she sees: Wilhelm.
Close together, he and the bear are having a passionate discussion. She hears the bear say he's sorry, and without hesitation, she joins in:
"Oh, there's no reason to be!" Her voice is clear and determined. "You apologized long ago for the little mishap you caused at our house. And that settles it."
She raises her chin, almost proudly, and continues: "My mom taught me to take every apology seriously—as long as it comes from the heart." She smiles at the bear.
The bear blinks, embarrassed, and for a moment it seems as if he doesn't know what to do with all this sudden affection. "Well, that's... well..." He giggles nervously.
"Yeah, what's going on here?!" Wilhelm's eyes open wide. His mouth hangs open in amazement, and he almost falls on his three legs. "This can't be true! You're acting like forgiveness and peace and love, while out there half the neighborhood is running around looking for you with their banging sticks?!"
Chiara slowly turns to Wilhelm, crosses her arms, and raises an eyebrow. "Well, what do you suggest?"
The three-legged dog shakes his head vigorously. "Oh no, I'm not talking to you. I don't talk to two-legged people. I never have!"
Chiara laughs softly, her eyes sparkling with determination. "Oh, really?"

In three weeks, Chiara will be nine years old. Given her demeanor, her self-confidence, and her sense of responsibility, it seems almost unbelievable. It would be easy to underestimate her—a mistake that has surprised many a person. Her determination is as solid as stone, and as we've already seen, misjudging her abilities can quickly lead to unpleasant surprises.
Exactly the same thing happens now, when her sister Mia suddenly runs towards her. Dressed in a pink fur-trimmed anorak and a dark, slightly too loose-fitting hood. Hastily, with wide round eyes and gasping breath, as if she had seen something terrible. Chiara reacts immediately: Gently, almost tenderly, she places her gloved hand on Mia's sweaty cheek. Mia's eyes are wide and feverishly shining. She shakes her head, her hood comes off, and her dark curls fly wildly. "Run! Run! They... they're coming... the neighbors... Dad... all with guns... they're looking for him!" Mia whispers in a shaky voice, her eyes darting restlessly between Chiara and the frozen bear. Her gaze finally settles on First of Four—tall, powerful, and yet somehow lost in his own immobility.
Mia bites her full lower lip, unsure whether to say anything else. But her eyes reveal everything: fear, worry—and a hint of pity.
A shadow flits across Chiara's face, but she remains calm as her hand continues to gently pat Mia's cheek. The two girls stand so close together that their breath mingles in the cold air like a silvery mist.
"Okay," Chiara finally says, her voice firm and clear. "Then we have to hurry."
"Hurry?" Mia whispers desperately, clinging to Chiara's sleeve.
But Chiara releases Mia's grip with gentle force, looks deep into her eyes, and says resolutely: "Wilhelm, little grumbler, Mia—we have to stick together now."
"Oh dear," sighs First of Four, letting his ears droop. "I can already see it... them sharpening their butcher knives."
Wilhelm stands there, his head bowed, and lets out a few deep, desperate sighs.
"Oh, Willi, don't do that," Chiara snaps at him, but her voice remains calm.
Mia gently tugs at Chiara's sleeve and whispers in amazement, "You... you understand their language? Willi... we can talk to him?"
Chiara nods, a small smile crossing her face. "Willi is a loopy rascal," she says, giving the dog a reproachful look. "He's been leading us on the whole time. He understands every word, but doesn't want to talk to us humans."
"And... and me? Can I also speak to him?" Mia asks, wide-eyed.
"Of course you can," Chiara replies, gently patting her shoulder. "You just have to know how."
"And how?"
Chiara squeezes Mia's hand. "Not now. We don't have time. Come!"
Mia, who simply can't tear her gaze away from the mighty bear, only vaguely hears Chiara giving her orders in a strong voice.
"We can all run—and pretty fast, too. So, Mia, you have to listen carefully now!"
Mia's eyes are still fixed on the bear, but her voice is firm. "I can hear you. I'm just looking a little, but I'm listening."
"All right. You run over to Dad and explain to him that the bear isn't a cannibal like everyone says. He's sweet and kind."
First of four breaks out of his stupor, puts on a pained smile, and says, "Thank you!"
"All right," says Chiara firmly. "The truth must remain the truth." She turns to Mia again. "You explain to them that First of Four—that's his name, by the way—is my new... well, our new friend. All he wanted was help. Nothing more. And I promised him that help. Do you understand? Tell them I'll accompany him back to his cave. We'll wait there until everything calms down, and then I—or we—will come back. Is that clear?"
"But... but the bear... he won't hurt you?" Mia's voice trembles.
"Mia, do what I say. He's sweet. Just look at him!"
First of Four, who has been listening attentively the whole time, attempts a frightened smile.
It doesn't quite work—his gaping teeth flash hesitantly, while his ears twitch nervously."Do you like cucumbers?" he finally asks cautiously.
Instinctively, he feels for the crease under his armpit—oh no. Then he remembers: he's lost it.

"Willi, now you..." Chiara says sternly.
Wilhelm has turned slightly away from the group. His body is facing to the side, but his head is proudly raised to the sky, as if he were expecting some wise inspiration up there that would solve all the problems that are inexorably approaching them.
"Willi, I'm talking to you!"
The dog snorts contemptuously. "I have my principles," he says dryly, without taking his eyes off the sky. "And they are and always have been: I don't talk to finger creatures."
"He's a Von und Zu," First of Four interjects shyly.
Chiara crosses her arms and gives Wilhelm a sharp look. "Willi, no tricks now. We don't have time for this. You follow – immediately."
"I'm not playing tricks."
First of Four whispers, "He doesn't like being called Willi. His name is Wilhelm."
"He wants to be asked," Mia murmurs, rolling her eyes. "So typical."
"And then, without any warning, something disturbing happens: A figure emerges from between the trees—a man, struggling to make no noise, as if trying to blend in with his surroundings. His sky-blue parka shimmers in the changing light, the fur hood a little too tight over his dark eyes, which peer into the distance, watchful and cold. A thick turtleneck sweater is pulled up over his nose, only his eyes peek out from beneath—narrow, tense, and watchful.
With a jerky movement, he throws his arm up and points energetically toward the bus stop.
"Ahoy, ahoy! As we say at sea! Onward, people!" the man yells. His voice, muffled by the fabric, sounds as if coming from an empty room—muffled and hollow. "Get the harpoons! Plunge them into the heart of that greedy cannibal!"
An overwhelming feeling of disgust and absolute revulsion rises within the four friends. They've never heard such crude language before. They flinch, and First of Four stammers, "Th-that stilt creature... I know it. It passed me before. Accused me of terrible things..."
In fear, the bear's teeth clang loudly—an uncontrollable chattering that echoes in the minds of his friends.
Chiara feels her heart rate quicken. "What... what should we do now?" Mia whispers in a trembling voice, her small hands clutching Chiara's arm tightly.
"What do you think?" Chiara replies through gritted teeth. "We have to leave. Right now!"
"Run away?" First of Four looks at her with wide eyes. "But... but where to?"
"Back to your cave! Where no one can find us! Can you take us there?" Chiara asks resolutely, staring straight into the bear's eyes. The bear blinks in confusion, but then nods slowly. "Yes... yes, I think so. But it's deep out, close to the ice. And the path is... dangerous."
"No more dangerous than that crazy guy over there, is it?" Chiara casts a suspicious glance toward the approaching figure. The man's voice continues to thunder through the forest, dull and hollow like an echo from another world: "Forward, men! He's over here! No mercy for the beast! And no mercy for those trying to protect it either!”
“No more time!” Chiara says resolutely, gripping Mia's hand more tightly. Then she gently pushes her little sister away. “Run to Daddy! Explain everything to him and tell him to lure the hunters in another direction—down to the water. Quickly!”
“Yes, I'm already gone!” Mia's eyes are wide and scared, but she nods bravely. “When will you be back?”
“Maybe tomorrow... definitely as soon as I can.”
Mia gives her one last look, then turns and runs off as fast as her little legs can carry her.
“Wilhelm, it's your turn! Distract that man—please!” she says, almost pleadingly.
Wilhelm, who willingly puts aside his noble sensitivities in the face of the precarious situation, understands exactly what is required now: loyalty and noble steadfastness.
"Distract," he whispers. "It's my pleasure."
"Distract," whispers First of Four with relief, beaming from ear to ear. It's good to have his old Wilhelm back.
Wilhelm bares his teeth, a deep growl rumbling from his throat, so powerful that the floor vibrates slightly. "Somehow this reminds me of the old days," he murmurs, shaking his gray fur. "Of scampering Johann and the old homeland..."
"Thank you, good dog," says Chiara proudly, even finding time to wink at him. "My dear Von-und-Zu," she adds with a smile, "as befits a good and loyal companion."
Wilhelm nods and sprints off with a powerful leap—as well and as fast as he can on three legs. His gaze is fixed on the cautiously creeping man. With astonishing precision, he lands directly in front of the man's heavy boots. The man stumbles back a step but immediately stands up again.
"Well, what do we have here? What kind of wrecked individual are you?" the man sneers.
Wilhelm stops. He lowers his head, looks the man straight in the eyes, and growls—a deep, throaty sound. It doesn't sound quite like a bear, more pathetic, but good enough to catch the man's attention.
The man stops and raises a bushy eyebrow, dusted with ice crystals, in surprise. "What's that supposed to mean? Are you pretending to be a bear? Are you trying to act, or what?" He laughs mockingly.
"You better get out of here! Things could get pretty dicey at any moment. Things are about to get really heated here!"
Wilhelm remains motionless, vibrating with dignity. His gaze is firm and unyielding. It seems as if he's offering the man a silent duel—silent and unspoken. Then, completely unexpectedly, his snout curls, his chest swells, and he lets out a deep, but somehow—well—pathetic "Rooaaaar!"
"You can't believe it. Look at that stupid mutt!" The man stares at Wilhelm, aghast. "Do you think I'd fall for that?"
But Wilhelm remains seated. Not a twitch, not a blink. A statue of calm. The man grits his teeth and kicks at him—but Wilhelm nimbly hops aside, elegantly, as only a Von und Zu can manage. Not at all fazed, he launches a daring leap forward, snaps at the man's heavy leather shoe, and catches it.
"Well, I wonder! So small, so unsteady on his feet, but as treacherous as anything!"

The man laughs maliciously and pulls his foot back. Without paying any further attention to Wilhelm, he turns around once, as if scanning the area.
"Now..." whispers Chiara, his eyes flashing. "First of Four, run!"
The bear looks at her for a moment, his large eyes lighting up, then nods determinedly. "Hold on tight," he growls in a deep voice.
Chiara swings herself onto his back without hesitation and buries her hands deep in his soft fur. "I'm ready," she whispers, her voice firm and clear.
"Then go!" roars First of Four and charges off, deeper into the dark forest. His powerful paws stir up leaves, snow, and dirt as the trees rush past them.
"Well..." murmurs the man, who stares after them in amazement. "He's damn fast...!"
He turns abruptly, puts his radio to his lips, and growls into it: "Uh, hello? Guys, the bear... is... uh... gone! He easily wrestled me down... escaped, the beast! Hello? Can anyone hear me? No one here? ... Idiots...!"

First of Four plows through the thicket with a force that leaves Chiara in awe. Branches whip past them, the frozen ground springs beneath his powerful paws, and the wind rips her hair from her face. With an unsteady hand, she tries to pull her fur hat back over her head, but the speed and the bumpy terrain make it impossible.
"Is everything okay?" First of Four grumbles as he runs. His voice sounds warm and deep, and Chiara feels the vibration in his chest. She's surprised by how calm he seems—almost happy, as if the cold and the flurry of snow in his thick fur invigorate him rather than exhaust him.
"Yes!" she calls into the wind. "Just keep going, as fast as you can!"
Chiara closes her eyes and imagines the endless expanses of ice and snow—the snow-covered trees, the glittering frost on the branches. Expanses she's never seen with her own eyes before. Her father works for a large hotel in the city—an imposing building with glass facades and a lobby that always smells of cedar wood and fresh coffee. But his work leaves him little time for family—or for pleasure.
Opportunities for adventurous outings are rare. When the family does do something together, they go out for a nice meal or, occasionally, to the movies. The fact that she's now so far away from the bustling city in the middle of the wilderness seems almost unreal to Chiara – like a dream made of stories and fairy tales. And today, this strange, exciting day, seems like one big adventure from which she never wants to wake up.
"I wish it would never end," she whispers softly, more to herself than to First of Four. The bear gives her a questioning look over his shoulder as he continues trudging through the deep snow.
She wishes she wouldn't have to go to school on Monday. Instead, she wants to stay with First of Four – maybe even travel with him to Insór. And what about the circus? Oh, how wonderful that would be! If only it were all real...

Suddenly, Chiara breaks the silence: "My little mumbler, wait a minute..."
"What?" grumbles the bear, peering over his shoulder in surprise.
"Stop, I need to think about something. It's important."

First of Four takes a deep sniff. He stops and gazes toward an impressive rock face rising at the end of a winding path. The entrance to his den is barely visible, hidden behind thick, ice-encrusted branches and a curtain of snowflakes gently falling from the boughs.
Chiara follows his gaze and frowns. "You live in there?" she asks curiously.
"Yes..." the bear replies, a little embarrassed. He paws lightly in the snow, as if unsure. "It... it might not be what you imagine. I did a little... well, not quite tidy up this morning."
Chiara giggles, a rough, raspy laugh that comes more from her throat—her lips are already numb and crusted from the icy wind.
"Wait, let me stretch my legs. I need to get my toes blood flowing again," Chiara murmurs, shaking out her legs.
The bear tilts his head. "Should I maybe lick them a little? It helps. My mom always did that to me when I was a baby."
"Oh, no, it is fine, thanks." Chiara smiles weakly, but then her expression turns serious. "You know, my little mumbler, I've been thinking."
"About the circus?"
"No... something more important."
"About Insór?"
"No, much more important. So important that we have to turn back."
"Turn back? Why?" The bear blinks in surprise and sits up a little.
"Yes, we have to go back. Either way, they'll find you. They just have to follow our trail... or set the dogs on it. It's an easy task for them."
"But... I thought Wilhelm was our friend," he murmurs sadly.
"Not Wilhelm. There are so many other dogs. Not like Wilhelm, that's for sure. They're trackers—they spend all day sniffing around and tracking things down for their masters."
"Yes, I know..." First of Four lowers his head. "They want to... kill us all, don't they?" His voice trembles, and his large eyes suddenly look glazed and full of fear.
"They'll find your cave. Guaranteed. And once they know where you live, it'll be over... They won't stop until they get you. And then..." Chiara swallows hard, her voice almost breaking. "...then they'll..."
First of Four gasps audibly. "Oh dear... really?"
Chiara shakes her head, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "I won't let that happen," she whispers resolutely. "That's why we have to go back. And I already have a plan."
After thinking for a moment, Chiara says loudly and firmly: "First of Four, when I met you down at the bus stop, you had a little device—a cell phone."
"A cell phone?" The bear blinks in confusion.
"Yes, my mom's cell phone."
First of Four shakes his head slowly, as if he'd been asked an extremely difficult question. "No... I didn't have anything like that."
Chiara resists the temptation to get angry. Time is running out, and it's really not easy to communicate with such an inexperienced bear. So she takes a deep breath and explains patiently: "Well, the little box you mumbled into the first time we met. Don't you remember that?"

"Oh! Yes, the quack frog!" First of Four proudly pats his chest. "Yes, I still have it."
"Where?"
"Well, here!" The bear raises his paw and points to his armpit.
Chiara's face brightens, relief flooding through her. She spontaneously throws her arms around the bear's neck. "You're a treasure, my little murmurer! You did well!"
First of Four clears his throat shyly and pulls the quack frog out from under his thick fur. He carefully hands it to Chiara, who accepts it almost reverently.
"This is our salvation! Wait here a minute – I have to try to reach Mia on the family cell phone to discuss something important. And so you don't start muttering at me again, I'll step aside. I'll be right back!"
The bear nods understandingly and takes the opportunity to do a little business behind a bush. When he returns, Chiara's broad grin awaits him.

He is no longer a bear on the run, plagued by fear and sadness, but a joyful sprinter—as nimble as one would expect from a cheerful bear. His powerful legs carry him safely and purposefully back the way they came. Chiara clings to his muscular back, barely heavier than a snowflake.
The dark hollow scurries past them without him really noticing. When First of Four finally wades through the icy stream again, his heart flutters with excitement. The whole time, Chiara chatters incessantly, giving him precise instructions, which he listens with pricked ears.
Shortly afterward, they reach the small bus shelter from which First of Four had recently planned to begin his adventurous journey to Insor.
The bear sniffs excitedly around the hut, presses himself against the back wall as if trying to merge with the wood, and cautiously peers through the icy squares of glass.
"Is he gone?" he whispers.
Chiara nods without turning around.
"He's gone. Probably down by the dock... with Dad. And the others."
Chiara approaches the wooden bench and picks up a small box. The lid is covered with colorful stickers from a currently incredibly popular pop singer, and when she gently wipes away the film of snow, the colorful images shimmer dimly in the last light.
"There it is!" Chiara whispers excitedly, giving him a beaming look. "Just like Mia promised."
The first of four stands up and cautiously approaches. "What is that?" he asks quietly, peering curiously over Chiara's shoulder.
"Our key," Chiara answers mysteriously, clutching the box tightly. "This will get us further without you having to be afraid any longer."
First of Four scratches thoughtfully behind his ear, grins, and says, "Won't they kill us now?"
Chiara shakes her head resolutely. "No, my little mumbler. Absolutely not. We'll do it exactly as I explained it to you. And for that, we need a few little things, and they're in here." She taps the box meaningfully.
First of Four blinks in surprise. "Oh, I'm so curious..."

"Well, listen. It worked once before. Today, the thing with the hat—that was a wonderful idea."
"That was Wilhelm's! After all, he's a "von und zu"!" says the bear proudly.
"Yes, yes, I know. A "von und zu" through and through. But as I said, his idea was excellent, and that's exactly where we need to start. We need to fool them again. And since you're such a wonderful actor..."
"Actor?" First of Four frowns.
"Yes, someone who can play a role quite well—like you played the grumpy stranger who was simply too busy to talk to anyone. Now we'll do even better!"
"Even better?" The bear beams with enthusiasm.
"Yes, even better. You're playing a professor!"
The smile on the bear's face disappears instantly. The word "professor" seems completely foreign to him. He furrows his eyebrows and slowly shakes his head. "Oh... how am I supposed to play a... a Bofessor when I don't even know what that is. A bofessor?"
Chiara giggles and pats him reassuringly on the shoulder. "No, not a bofessor—a professor! That's someone who knows a lot. Someone who looks smart and can express themselves well. Imagine being the smartest bear in the whole country. With glasses on and a thick book under your arm!"
First of Four blinks a few times and actually seems to be imagining it. "And... then people believe me? That I... that I'm smart?"
"Well, you are smart, aren't you?" asks Chiara, looking at First of Four challengingly.
"I... I think so," grumbles the bear, raising his head proudly. "We just need a little disguise and the right entrance. And believe me, my little murmurer: you'll be the most impressive professor this city has ever seen!"
"With a hat on my head, I'm sure I'll be a really good bofessor."
"No hat," says Chiara firmly. "Not this time."
She opens the small box Mia brought over from her room and pulls out a pair of black reading glasses. They once belonged to her father—an old-fashioned model with thick lenses and silver temples. He only wore them for a short time before trading them in for something more modern. Chiara also takes out a notebook and a pen.
"And here... a writing pad and pen. A professor definitely needs one of these."
First of Four stares at the objects in her hands. His eyes go wide. "Oh..."
"What? Have you never seen a pen before?" asks Chiara, amused.
The bear looks embarrassed. "Well... well, I guess I'm not such a good bofessor after all."
"Why not?"
"I... I don't even like being a bofessor. Can't I just go back to being the grumpy stranger from before? That was much nicer."
Chiara shakes her head firmly. "No, that won't work. You have to be a professor. We discussed that."
First of Four sighs deeply. "Fine... but... oh dear, I hardly dare say it."
"What?"

The bear fidgets nervously. "I... I can't write."
"But that doesn't matter."
"Oh..."
"Well?"
The bear shudders and lowers his gaze. "I can't... that other thing either. What goes with writing." First of Four murmurs barely audibly.
"Reading?" Chiara laughs softly. "My little mumbler, it's obvious! One thing needs the other – without reading, you can't write. But that doesn't matter at all!"
First of Four looks at her doubtfully. "You mean... I can still be a bofessor?"
"Of course! What do you think? How could you possibly know it? You've never learned it! And besides" – she blows lightly over the box – "it's not even important right now. Do you know why?"
The bear blinks in surprise. "Why not?"
Chiara grins broadly. "Because you only have to pretend! That's the great thing about acting—you just pretend you can. And believe me, most people don't even notice the difference."
"Hmm... then I don't actually have to write and... well, what goes into it?"
"Oh, you just have to pretend! And do you know how to do that?"
The bear shakes his head.
"Here, pay attention!" Chiara takes the pen, opens the notebook, and scribbles a few random lines and circles on the blank pages. "See? When someone is talking to you and you don't know what to say, you just pretend you're writing down something really important."
The First of Four watches her closely and grumbles in agreement. "Just... pretend?"
"Exactly!" Chiara exclaims enthusiastically. "Real professors always do it like that! They just scribble something down—usually, no one can read it anyway! Not even themselves. They call it notes. And when they want to appear particularly busy, they just read something to themselves and frown."
"Frown..." repeats First of Four, furrowing his bushy eyebrows.
"Perfect! Just like that!" Chiara claps her hands enthusiastically. "You're a natural, my little mumbler! I think you really are a great professor!"
The bear beams from ear to ear, and his paws drum on the floor a little impatiently. "Oh, I wish I was a professor too fine!"
"And you know," Chiara continues, leaning conspiratorially toward First of Four, "when things get really tricky and you just can't think of how to answer a question... then there's a very special trick."
The bear pricks up his ears. "A trick?"
"Yes, exactly! Then you just pretend you're swatting away an imaginary fly. You know, just waving your paw..." – Chiara demonstrates an exaggerated hand gesture in the air – "...and say as confidently as possible: Patati! Patatà!"
First of Four frowns. "Papapati! Papapata!? What does that mean?"

Chiara giggles. "Nothing. Absolutely nothing! That's the best part! It sounds important, but it means absolutely nothing. I saw it in an old movie once. Patati! Patatà! And do you know what happened?"
The bear shook his head.
"People really started to think about it! All day long—they just thought about it and thought about it. You know how adults are—they're always thinking about something. The weather, if need be. And because they were so deep in their thinking, they completely forgot what they actually wanted to say or ask."
She grins broadly. "And you know what? After all that thinking, they even tried to repeat it—and none, absolutely none of those adults managed it!"
The first of four beams enthusiastically. "That's fabulous!" He waves his paw vigorously through the air and calls out: "Papatapi! Papàtapa!"
Chiara shakes her head and laughs. "Well, that sounds quite convincing!"
The bear stands up proudly. "Aren't I a real professor?"
"You are, my dear—but wait a minute, now comes the best part, the best of all!" Chiara whispers conspiratorially.
"Huwwhhu."
"The glasses... and your name."
"My name?" asks the bear, blinking in surprise, as if she had just confided the greatest secret in the world to him.
"Of course! A great professor can't be called First of Four! Just imagine: Professor First of Four—that sounds more like a fairy tale than a real scholar."
First of Four snorts in amusement.
"A professor always has a funny-sounding name. Something like... Professor Zuttlitz!"
First of Four claps his paws. "Or Professor Foh!"
Chiara giggles. "Well!"
They both laugh, and the bear hops up and down happily, causing the snow to swirl around him.
"But you know what?" Chiara continues, rummaging around in the box. "Mia and I – we've already thought of a name for you."
"A nice one?" the bear asks excitedly, pricking up his ears.
"Of course!" Chiara nods convincingly.
"But if I don't like it, I can choose another one, right?"
Chiara grins. "That's only right and proper."
First of Four raises his eyebrows. "Only right and proper? Uh...?"
"That means it's only fair that you have a say."
First of Four nods contentedly.
"It's a very special name. It comes from a country I've already described to you..."
"With the giant flowers?"
"No, the other one! With the sugar clouds!"

First of Four snorts enthusiastically. "Oh yes, the one with the sugar clouds!"
Chiara leans toward him as if she were about to reveal a secret and whispers, "Hallodry."
"Allodry?" repeats the bear, tilting her head. "What kind of name is that? It sounds kind of... weird."
Chiara puts her hand on his hip and looks at him sternly.
"Please, First of Four—you can't talk about it like that! It's a noble name. A name full of style and dignity. Not many people bear it. You have to be quite skilled to be a Hallodry!"
"An Allodry..." He tries out the name, rolling it around on his tongue.
"All-o-dry... the longer I think about it, the more I like it!"
Chiara beams.
"Well, you see! And now put on the glasses..."
She puts the black, incredibly kitschy glasses on his nose.
First of Four blinks through the lenses and shakes himself once.
"All right! From today on, I'm a bofessor Allodry!"
"Professor Hallodry," Chiara repeats reverently and winks at him.
"And now, my dear Professor, off to my parents."
First of Four grins broadly, as if he'd just received the most important award of his life.
But when he realizes what Chiara just said, he almost chokes on his own breath and gets a terrible coughing fit.
"Whoa... my parents! Oh, my goodness! No way! I can't go back into the house. I broke everything last time! If I go in there, they'll probably be terribly angry with me!"
Chiara laughs softly. "Oh no, what do you think, my little mumbler? They won't even recognize you. Don't you understand? You're someone completely different now. Until you're safe again, you're not just a lovable, nice bear... but a clever professor!"
First of Four blinks in disbelief and looks down at himself. His glasses sit crookedly on his broad nose, the notepad and pen are somehow tucked under his armpit.
"Oh yes... I forgot! I'm a... a bofessor now!"
His voice sounds completely different now—a little more upright, almost a little distinguished. He clears his throat, pushes his glasses up vigorously, and puts on an important face.
Chiara claps her hands enthusiastically.
"Exactly! And a Professor Hallodry isn't afraid of anything! Especially not my parents."
The bear nods resolutely. "Yes! Right! They'll never recognize me..."
He pauses briefly and then whispers softly: "...I hope so."
Chiara winks at him.
"It'll be fine! And if you're unsure what to say, just remember our secret words."
"Pati Pata!" First of Four grumbles solemnly, patting his chest confidently.
"Well, there you go! Let's go, my dear Bofessor Hallodry!"
First of Four raises his head, straightens his shoulders, and strides forward with a grin that couldn't be wider. His glasses bob slightly on his nose.

"But... do I really look good?" he asks, still uncertain.
Chiara looks at him with wide eyes and nods enthusiastically. "You look stunning!"
"Do you think your mommy likes me?"
Chiara giggles. "Of course!"
"Do I really look smart and as beautiful as a real Bofessor?"
Chiara bursts out laughing. "Oh my God! You look so good that I have to be careful Mommy doesn't fall in love with you!"
The bear snorts shyly, but his eyes sparkle with delight.
"Oh... but I also think I'm really a good Bofessor?"
Chiara nods eagerly and grins from ear to ear. "Ready, my little murmurer?"
First of four proudly raises his head and adjusts his glasses. "Bofessor, please," he says dignifiedly, trying to look as important as possible. Chiara takes a step back, looks him up and down, and then theatrically puts a hand to her forehead.
"Professor, have you tried a somersault today?"
First of Four immediately raises his paw and waves it in the air as if shooing away an invisible insect.
"Oh, Papapati Papapata!" he grumbles with mock arrogance.

Oh yes, none of us would seriously believe that First of Four looks anything like a real professor. After all, very few professors have shaggy fur, weigh around 250 kilos, and can barely fit through a normal front door. But so what?
We stilt creatures are surprisingly easy to influence. We like to believe what we want to believe. And when a large, imposing bear with glasses and a notebook claims to be a bofessor—sorry, a professor—why should we doubt it? Doubt may gnaw at us briefly, but in the end, hope always prevails. The hope that everything is exactly as it seems—and above all, that perhaps some small advantage can be gained from it.

His suppressed inhibitions, his secret fear of the big entrance, haven't diminished with Chiara's company—in fact, they've actually grown. The things he has to remember! And he mustn't misbehave under any circumstances.

As they enter the house through the back door, the bear feels both warm and cold at the same time.
The scent of fresh tea and baked cookies fills the air, and soft music plays somewhere in the background. To avoid the mishap of the morning, the bear crouches low this time—the doorframes are obviously not made for someone his size—and carefully slides sideways into the room. As he does so, a considerable amount of the last snow falls from his thick fur and lands with a quiet crackle on the wooden floor. Chiara gently takes him by the paw—a small, firm sign of support. And even though her hand disappears completely into his clumsy paw, she feels the slight trembling within. She realizes how nervous the little murmurer really is.
"It's all good, my dear," she whispers encouragingly, giving his paw a firm squeeze. "No one will hurt you here. Just think of our amazing performance at the circus—remember? The lights, the amazement, your most fabulous somersault of all time, the applause...“

A small, nervous hum escapes his chest, but his eyes begin to shine.
Chiara smiles at him—warmly, honestly, the way only someone who truly loves a bear can smile.
First of Four takes a deep breath, raises his head, and nods. The thought of the circus seems to give him strength for a moment.
Then a door opens, and Mia stands there with some cookies in her open hand. She smiles kindly.
"There you are at last! Come in. The tea is fresh, Dad is still down at the hut trying to calm the men down—but Mom is already inside. She has cake and cookies for all of us and is waiting for you."
With a mischievous grin, she adds, "And she's really excited to hear the story about the terrible bear, the bus—and, of course, about the professor, who missed the last bus because of all the stupid things that happened."
She winks meaningfully at Chiara, as if to ask: „So, how did I do that? You see, I'm no longer the little baby you always think I am.“
Chiara returns the wink with a barely perceptible nod. First of Four, on the other hand, fidgets uncertainly with his left ear, trying to appear as dignified as possible.
"Well then, come in!" Mia calls cheerfully, pushing the door wider open. The bear takes another deep breath, sucking in his stomach to somehow fit through the much too small kitchen door.
"Unfortunately, there's no other way," Mia says apologetically. "We have to eat in the kitchen. As you may have heard, Professor, a hefty bear wanted to visit us this afternoon..." She gives Chiara a barely perceptible wink. "...and over in the living room, a little... well, let's say, something got broken. Nothing serious, really! But people talk."
Chiara has decided to be quiet for the moment and not push herself too far into the spotlight. She nods eagerly and gently tugs First of Four's fur – a sign that his big moment is about to arrive.
"Mom, may I introduce you?" she finally begins, in a voice that's meant to sound as grown-up as possible. "This is Professor Halodry! As Mia said, he missed the last bus and would otherwise have to spend the night on the streets. And that's really not right... don't you think, Mom?"
Chiara's mother studies the professor with a calm gaze that goes deeper than she shows.
And the bear, too, can't take his eyes off this extraordinary stilt creature.
Something about this creature touches him – so gently inviting and warm, yet at the same time permeated with a deep, indefinable sadness that the bear can clearly sense.
The face with its fascinating eye line is clearly cut; its beauty has something timeless and unobtrusive about it. Chestnut-brown hair falls in soft waves over her shoulders, framing her smooth, Asian-influenced features with gentle elegance.
Her lips are a subtle red—not overt, not fake. It seems like the silent promise of a smile that could appear at any moment—if the situation calls for it.
Her skin is smooth, flawless, without a trace of vanity. No overt makeup, no facade—just quiet, natural dignity.
A face that exudes calm. And that quiet determination with which one can command a room without saying a single word.
She blinks once. Then again—as if to make sure she really sees what she sees. But she quickly recovers and smiles so warmly that even the greatest doubt melts away.

"No, of course not! Just come in, Professor, and join us at the table. There's plenty of room—and it would be our pleasure to have you as our guest."
It seems almost comical as Esther slowly stretches out her slender fingers—red-polished nails, calm and elegant. On her wrist, she wears two silver bracelets that send soft, clear tones through the room with every slight movement.
The first of four is stunned. Never before has he heard such a pleasant sound. Or seen such a beautiful stilt-walking creature. These delicate sounds, mixed with the soft whisper of her voice, completely throw him off track.
He clears his throat, leans forward slightly—as best he can with his massive weight—and curtsies politely.
Then he grumbles, visibly nervous:
"How diddle do... er, I mean... oh... oh dear: Papati Papatá!"
Under the table, Wilhelm lies curled up in his seat. When he sees the bear in the house again and hears what it's babbling, he just raises his head wearily, rolls his eyes, and sighs deeply. The fact that this shaggy giant has appeared here again seems to Wilhelm a mixture of mystery and inevitable fate.
"Well, Wilhelm? Don't you have any respect for academic honors?" whispers Chiara with a grin, popping a small biscuit into her mouth. The dog snorts softly and lets his head sink back onto his paws. He adheres to his self-imposed duty not to engage in any conversation with two-legged human beings—and thus doesn't say anything at first.
The bear hesitates for a brief moment, looks down at the outstretched hand of the delightful stilt woman, and remembers Chiara's explanations: "Take the hand, shake it, but not too firmly." So he reaches out with his mighty paw, grasps his mother's hand, and shakes it as gently as if placing a chick back in the nest.
Chiara's mother giggles softly, though she's clearly trying to hold it back. "Why don't you sit down here at the table first," she says kindly, placing a steaming pot of tea in the middle. "Chiara, please take off your coat—you're carrying half the forest with you. And you, Professor..." She looks at First of Four with a frown that seems both warm and skeptical. "...wouldn't you also want to take off your thick... er... fur coat? It's so warm in here."
Sweat pours down the bear's forehead, stings his eyes, and drips heavily down his plump cheeks. He stands still, his back stiff, blinking helplessly at Chiara, then back at her mother.
"Um... well... actually, I'm finding it a little chilly right now."
Chiara's mother wrinkles her nose and says honestly, "Well, whatever you say."
Chiara gasps quietly, obviously relieved that her mother doesn't ask any further questions. "Let's just sit down," she says quickly, gently pulling First of Four by the paw to the table. The bear sits down with a quiet thump on the much too small chair, which creaks alarmingly.
"Tea?" Chiara's mother asks politely, pouring him a cup before he can answer. The bear looks at the steaming porcelain cup in front of him and frowns.
"Um..."
He leans forward, sniffs it, and finally, to everyone's obvious confusion, dips the tip of his paw into the cup.

Wilhelm, still curled up under the table, lifts his snout and watches with a mixture of resignation and amusement as the bear withdraws its paw and licks the liquid with a satisfied growl.
"Um... yes. Very... soothing, this fea," murmurs First of Four, looking proudly around.
Chiara discreetly nudges the bear in the side.
"Patati, patata!" she whispers admonishingly.
The bear immediately clears his throat and repeats loudly:
"Yes, papapati, papapata!"
A surprised laugh escapes Chiara's mother.
"Professor, we have cake and cookies for tea. What would you like? I could also make you a sandwich. It's really no trouble at all."
She smiles kindly and pushes a beautifully decorated platter with cookies and a large, fragrant cake toward him.
"Here, feel free to have one of these delicious cookies first."
First of Four, still clinging somewhat awkwardly to the much too small chair, cautiously extends a paw. The cookies do indeed look tempting: decorated with icing, some with small red berries, others sprinkled with golden sprinkles.
Just as his mighty paw almost touches one, he suddenly recoils. His eyes widen, his paw begins to tremble.
Something strange stirs in his stomach and slowly creeps into his thoughts. There's something... something important. A memory, a thought—fleeting, but urgent.
"Um... so..." he stammers. His gaze wanders uncertainly to Chiara, who is staring at him with wide eyes.
"What is it, Professor? Is something wrong?" Chiara's mother asks worriedly.
First of Four blinks, as if waking from a dream.
"I... I think... I forgot something very important," he murmurs.
Chiara is immediately alarmed. She discreetly slides a little closer to him.
"What do you mean, little murmurer? What have you forgotten?" she whispers.
The bear shakes his head in confusion. Thoughts flutter through his mind like startled birds.
"Insor... travel... with the Dus... a brown... the first, but not the smartest..." he mutters to himself. His paws tremble slightly, as if he's trying to grab something that has long since faded.
"A handbag... a sandwich... and... and..."
He pauses. His eyes widen.
"William! Yes, exactly! That's it! William! Fea! The Queen!"
"The Queen?" Chiara looks at him in confusion.
"Well, the Queen of Insor!" First of Four suddenly grumbled excitedly, shifting restlessly in his chair.
Chiara's mother also sat down, took a sip of tea, and placed her folded hands on the table.
"Well, Professor Hallodry, I must apologize. You know my two daughters, but I haven't even introduced myself yet. My name is Esther, and my husband is Robert. At the moment, however, he's still outside, to... well—"

She pauses for a moment, while a meaningful look flickers back and forth between her and Mia. Mia twists her mouth briefly, but says nothing.
Esther finally sighs. "...to hunt down the bear that broke in this morning."
The first of four's eyes widen.
"Breaked in?" he repeats with genuine dismay. The word sounds highly inappropriate to him. "I'm sure this—well, admittedly a little naughty—bear didn't come here to steal anything."
"But no, my dear Professor—I really didn't mean it like that!" Esther says quickly and soothingly, seeing how deeply the accusation seems to hurt him. "I just got a little carried away..."
She gives him a gentle, apologetic smile and places a particularly generous slice of cake on his plate. "But tell me, Professor," she began in a light but curious tone, "where were you even planning to travel to—so late at night? And where are you actually from? In a small suburb like ours, you usually know every stranger. Did you really just arrive today? And... how, anyway? By car, perhaps?"
Completely overwhelmed, the bear stares at Esther with large, uncertain eyes. Thoughts tumble around his head. "Uh... by... shower, perhaps?" he finally blurts out.
Chiara closes her eyes briefly. Mia snorts quietly into her cup. Esther, on the other hand, remains serious—only a tiny twitch at the corners of her mouth betrays that she finds the outburst remarkable.
First of Four fiddles with his glasses, then hastily grabs his notepad and begins to scribble some illegible characters—as if that could somehow authenticate his words.
Esther tilts her head slightly to the side to catch a glimpse of what the professor is apparently writing down so hastily and so meaningfully.
A hint of amusement crosses her face.
Before she can say anything, the bear demonstratively raises his other paw and holds it protectively in front of the booklet – just like children do at school when they don't want anyone copying from them.
Esther frowns but says nothing. She leans back, clasps her hands neatly, and observes him with the stoic composure of a woman who has entertained many strange guests – but certainly never such a peculiar professor.
Chiara and Mia now joined in at the same time: "Oh, Mom, just let the poor professor eat in peace," Chiara said quickly, moving the plate with the cake a little closer to him. "Yes, and drink tea!" Mia adds, nimbly pouring a few more drops into his already overflowing cup.
Esther says, "Well, let's not be so nosy then..."
The first of four breathes a sigh of relief, hesitantly reaches for the spoon, and pokes at the cake. The crumbs crumble beneath his paws, and he tries hard to get at least a little of the deliciously fragrant pastry into his mouth.
Chiara gives him a meaningful look – which he doesn't quite understand, though. Should he speak now? Or maybe not? The silence slowly settling over the room becomes increasingly heavy.
"Would you still do us the honor of telling us a little more about your profession?" Chiara's mother finally asks with an inviting smile.

"Bofession?" The bear blinks, confused. "Uh... what?"
"Well, your job," Esther explains patiently.
"Ah... grumble... grumble..." the bear fidgets frantically with his glasses.
"So, Mom!" Chiara quickly interrupts. "You're driving the dear professor crazy with all your questions! What's he supposed to say? He's a famous professor who..."
"...multidisciplinary!" the bear interrupts hastily, his voice suddenly very firm and very loud. Then a little quieter: "So... highly complex research... very complificated..."
He scribbles furiously on his notepad again. Wild squiggles and jagged lines dance across the page, while his paw keeps moving, as if anticipating the words he's missing.
Chiara nods contentedly. "He's a bit... peculiar," she whispers to her mother. "But very clever."
Esther smiles politely—a smile that could just as easily be a question mark. "Yes... I can see that."
"Oh... A little here, a little there. The really big questions, yes, yes..." the bear continues importantly, a few cake crumbs rolling out of the corner of his mouth.
Esther blinks. "The big questions?"
"Yes, yes," the bear confirms eagerly, without looking up. He continues scribbling as if he were already mentally at an international research conference. "Connections... interrealationships... patapapti patatapata..."
"Extremely... fascinating," Esther murmurs with feigned interest. Then she leans forward a little, her eyes half-closed, her voice coaxing: "And tell me, Professor—well, uh... Hallodry—where exactly did you study?"
First of Four stands up majestically, shakes his fur, and mutters in a meaningful voice: "Oh, I studied in a very special country! It's incredibly far away—a winter's length from here. With mountains so high you could caress the clouds with your tongue. You just have to want it!"
"Oh yeah? And what's the name of this fascinating country?" Esther's tone is curious, but her eyes sparkle slightly.
First of Four scratches his head, embarrassed. He can't think of anything quickly—and if he's honest, probably not slowly either. Finally, he says with feigned composure:
"Oh, the country's name is... uh... Jeeeedermaaaan."
"Well, that's an unusually beautiful name!" Esther exclaims delightedly.
"Yes, isn't it? That's why I studied there right away!" First of Four nods eagerly, as if this could cement his story more firmly.
"And how many people—er, I mean, residents—live there, in this idiosyncratic country?"
The bear thinks for a moment. But since he only knows the meaning of the number four - and just barely the three before, he quickly decides—and with firm conviction—on: "Three."
"Three? That seems a bit low for a country with such a highly esteemed university."
"Two."
"Two?"
"One."
"One?"
"Four."
"3214?"
"Or something like that."
Esther grins. "That sounds really... interesting."
"Yes, very interesting! It's not as if you'd find this wonderful country on just any line map," First of Four explains solemnly, raising his paw meaningfully. "Only very special line maps are allowed the honor of even writing this name there."
He leans forward a little and whispers conspiratorially:
"If you put it on every line map, too many people would want to travel there—and the country is so small that there wouldn't be room for that many stilt creatures!"
"Perhaps—but only if it's convenient for you—could you read me a little from your notes?"
First of Four almost chokes on his tea. "From my... novices?"
"Yes, exactly! From your little book there. There must be a lot of important and highly interesting things in there."
"Ah, yes... of course!" He clears his throat violently and nods exaggeratedly seriously. "Very important nofices... very significant..."
His gaze flicks to Chestnut-Head, seeking help.
Chiara is there in a flash. "Oh, that's really enough!" she exclaims, clapping her hands resolutely – a sharp sound that echoes briefly through the room. "Let's talk about something else."

Esther sighs theatrically, as if her greatest pleasure has just been taken away from her. "You're right...but where your father only stays so long?" She straightens slightly. "I suggest you take Willi with you – he needs to go outside anyway – and go looking for him. There's no point in continuing to look for a bear that could be anywhere at the moment but out there."
"Oh, Mom..." Chiara begins, but Esther raises her hand in a placating gesture.
"Come on, go on! I'm getting along wonderfully with our nice professor. We'll become friends – won't we, Professor?" She gives him a sweet smile.
Professor Hallodry, who seems a little surprised, nods eagerly – but is completely speechless at this moment.
Willi, who has been dozing quietly in the corner, suddenly pricks up his ears as if he'd heard his name. He slowly gets up, shakes his fur vigorously, and trots over to Chiara. The idea of ​​being allowed to run around outside seems much better to him than having to listen to this strange conversation any longer.
"All right, Willi, then we'll go and find Dad," says Mia resolutely, grabs Chiara by the sleeve, and pulls her and the dog toward the door.
"And get dressed properly!" Esther calls after the two of them as they're about to leave.

Chiara waves her off and opens the door.
A cool gust of wind hits them. Willi immediately sniffs the ground eagerly, pulls on the leash, and hobbles off determinedly – as if he knew exactly which tree he wanted to go to today.

Esther loves her children – with all their wishes, desires, and affection for strange things – she suppresses her anger and tries to remain calm and collected. She doesn't want to blame Chiara or Mia for what they've come up with, nor does she want to blame the bear for what he's done in the house.
Of course, she's long since figured out what's going on here. She plays along – perhaps also a little out of curiosity. She knows them well enough to trust them completely. And even though the idea of passing off a giant bear as a "professor" seems quite absurd, she can't help but smile.
Sometimes, she thinks to herself, it's more important to keep the imagination alive than to view everything with the stern eye of reason.
"Another cup of tea?" she finally asks, raising the pot.
First of Four, still deeply immersed in his role as professor, nods eagerly. "Oh, I won't say no! You know, there's a story I heard once... but I'm not sure if it's really true."
Esther refills his cup. "What kind of story, Professor?"
The bear takes a cautious sip, clears his throat theatrically, and raises his paw meaningfully. "Well... there's a queen. She lives in a wondrous land called Insor. And one day, she welcomes a less-than-bright bear—a brown one, mind you. They drink tea together... and eat a cucumber sandwich."
Esther smiles indulgently. The bear pauses meaningfully.
"And then," he continues, "there's another bear—not a dangerous one, no, no! Quite the opposite: He's gentle, good-natured... and mostly quite nice. But this bear—this, compared to the other, extremely clever bear—would also very, very much like to meet the Queen of Insor."
Esther tilts her head slightly and studies him attentively. "And why does this nice and clever bear want to meet the Queen of Insor?"
First of Four sighs softly. His voice softens, almost sad.
"Because he lives alone," he finally says. "Because no one is there anymore. His family... they're gone. Everyone has gone downstairs—and he... well, he often feels very lonely."
At that moment, Esther's expression changes. Her initial skepticism gives way to a sober gentleness. Suddenly, she understands why her daughters have taken this unusual guest so dearly to their hearts.
She gently places her hand on one of his mighty paws and smiles at him.
"Then I hope he meets the queen one day. And that she shows him the path he dreams of."
First of Four looks at her in surprise – and for a brief moment, he thinks he sees a gleam in her eyes. A gleam that gives him hope.
"But now..." the bear says very quietly and a little embarrassed, "oh..."
"What is it, my dear Professor?" Esther asks gently, giving him a warm look.

"Well..." First of Four paws at the floor and lowers his head. "I was hoping, I mean, I was thinking you might be... that queen?"
Esther laughs—a hearty, clear laugh that fills the entire room.
"Me? Oh, my dear, why should I be a queen?"
The bear raises his head. His eyes flash uncertainly, but also hopefully.
"Well, because you drink fea... offer sandwiches and biscuits... and..."
He hesitates briefly, clears his throat, and then continues quietly:
"...and because you're as beautiful as a queen shuld be."
Esther blushes and smiles.
"Oh, you really are extremely charming, Professor."
The bear, not quite sure how to respond, murmurs softly:
"Patatita... patatata..."
Esther laughs again and reaches for the teapot.
"Another cup, Professor?" she asks with a wink.
"Oh no, better not," says First of Four quickly, shaking his head. But his eyes involuntarily wander to the wall where countless pictures hang—framed memories, moments full of laughter, light, and life.
Esther notices his gaze and smiles warmly. "Do you like my little gallery?"
The bear nods reverently. "I've never seen such a beautiful gallery..." he murmurs, approaching cautiously. In the gold-framed pictures, he recognizes smiling faces, summer days in the garden, snowy winter evenings, and children huddled around a giant snowman.
"Would you like to take a closer look at the pictures?" Esther asks kindly. "And you know what? If you particularly like one, you can choose it and take it home."
First of Four blinks in surprise. "I... I get to choose a gallery?"
Esther laughs softly. "Not the whole gallery—but you're welcome to take one picture with you." She gently places her hand on his paw. "A souvenir of your visit with us."
Hesitantly, the bear walks along the wall. His huge paws hover carefully over the frames, as if afraid of breaking them. Finally, he stops in front of a picture. It shows a garden in spring, full of blooming flowers. A swing hangs from an old tree. Two children sit on it, laughing.
"That one..." he whispers, almost reverently. "I like it."
Esther steps next to him and examines the picture. "A good choice," she says quietly. "That's Chiara and Mia on the swing. It was a wonderful, unusually warm spring day. We were visiting back then—in another country. Perhaps not so dissimilar to the country of Jeeedermaaan. I'll tell you about it later."
The bear looks at her, his eyes shining. "That... I'd like to take that with me. For my home."
Esther nods. "Of course. I'll wrap it up well."
"May I look a little longer?" First of Four asks shyly.
"As long as you like," Esther replies with a smile.
"First of Four," Esther says suddenly, her voice soft, almost tender.
The bear, completely absorbed in contemplating the pictures, raises his head. "What?" he murmurs dreamily – and at the same moment realizes he's forgotten his role. He hastily clears his throat, pats his chest, and grumbles, "Oh no, uh... patapati... patata!"
Esther laughs softly, almost motherly. "You know," she begins, "Chiara and Mia would never bother with such a distracted professor if there wasn't a wonderful bear with an even more wonderful heart hiding behind him."
First of four freezes. His eyes widen, as if his heart stopped for a moment. "That... that means...?" he stammers uncertainly.
"That means I knew who you were from the beginning."
The bear gasps in shock and stares at her with his mouth open. "And... and... am I going to be killed now?" he asks quietly, as if afraid of the answer.
Esther gently shakes her head. "Oh God!? My dear, why would anyone kill you?"
"Well... I smashed the whole house..." mutters First of Four, lowering his gaze guiltily.
"Oh, the whole house," says Esther, waving his hand dismissively. "It's just a bit of wood, a little broken glass, and a whole lot of, quite tolerable, chaos. All of that can be repaired." She leans against the wall, looking him straight in the eyes. "You know, the crucial thing when encountering a mighty bear isn't how it behaves—it's how you confront it."
"I just... I just didn't want to be alone anymore," he murmurs, barely audibly.
Esther looks at him for a long time, then says in a gentle voice:
"Bad things often happen suddenly. Some things are just the way they are.
Why you're alone... why you found us right now... all of that defies explanation.
But one thing is just as clear: beautiful things can also come crashing down on us just as suddenly and violently. Do you understand? Like this morning.
It was loneliness that brought you to us—and there was nothing evil in it. What was broken doesn't matter. All that matters is your will, your trust—and your courage."
Esther turns around, quietly walks to the door, checks that it's closed, and then returns to the table. As if in a trance, she sinks into the chair. Her gaze remains fixed on the door.
"I want to tell you something now," she begins quietly.
"They know. You don't have to think that—I didn't hide it from them. Even if I did think about it briefly."
She places a hand on her chest and pauses for a moment.
"You know... in there, here in my chest... there's something that no one can explain. Something... unspeakably dark. Like a spider, maybe... yes, a spider that's been living there for a very long time. It's nested there, quietly and secretly. I didn't notice it at first, but now... now I feel it every day. It's an illness. There's a name for this horrible illness, but no one in our family has ever spoken it. This name is so terrible that none of us even wants to utter it."
First of Four looks at her, his eyes wide and full of compassion. "A spider?"
Esther nods slowly. "Yes... because I can imagine it better that way. A spider that's spun its web in there, close to my heart. It feels comfortable, you know? But... it also needs to eat. Like every living being, good or bad – it needs nourishment.“

"And what does it consume?" the bear asks quietly.
"My strength," Esther answers. Her voice trembles, but she continues. "My joy... sometimes even my hope. The spider is nibbling at my insides, quietly and silently. And that... that hurts quite a bit."
A deep silence falls over the room. The bear blinks heavily and moves a little closer to Esther. "Can't we... drive it away?" he whispers hopefully.
Esther shakes her head. "I don't know. We'll see. But even if it's gone someday, the fear that it'll come back is always there."
Esther laughs quietly between her tears. "I can't show any weakness. Because of the children. Because of Robert, my husband. It would drive her crazy to see me suffer. And that spider in there..." She pats her chest and takes a deep breath. "She'd laugh, you understand? She'd be happy about my suffering. And that... that's not what we want."
First of Four shakes his head so violently that his ears wiggle. "No! Not at all! We don't want that!"
Esther looks at him, a hint of gratitude in her eyes. "Then we'll annoy her a little, what do you think? Just not suffer so much. Just laugh a little...."
First of Four stands up proudly and gently pats his chest. "I'm good at laughing!"
Esther giggles.
Then the bear becomes completely still. His shoulders sink low, and his ears gently lie back. "I... I want to go home now," he murmurs. "It's been a beautiful day, but now I have to go."
Esther nods understandingly. "Wait, I'll pack the picture for you."
"Thank you," whispers the bear, his eyes shining moistly.
"You're welcome," says Esther softly. "And you know what? You don't need a Queen of Insor. Neither of us needs that. Because you're not alone anymore. You can come by anytime—for a cup of fairy tea, for a bit of company. And as for the hunters—I'll take care of that. You can count on it. Oh, and next time..."—she smiles mischievously—"...don't break down the door again. There's a button for a bell outside."
"It was so lovely," grumbles the bear, touched.
"Thank you very much. I'll give the girls my best regards. And I'll also tell them you'll be coming to visit them soon—you will, won't you? I'd really like to see you again."
„And Wilhelm?"
"Of course, I send my regards to Willi too."
"But he'd rather be called Wilhelm," explains the bear seriously.
"Well, then so be it," says Esther quietly. "From today on, good old Willi will be called Wilhelm. But sometimes he gets up to some pretty stupid things – and if I have to scold him, then, and only then, will I call him Willi. What do you think – is that a good deal?"
The bear sniffs, touched, his eyes gleaming, and Esther takes a step closer.
First of four bends down toward her. His massive head lowers so low that his warm, moist nose lightly touches hers. A gentle nudge, full of tenderness, gratitude, and a hint of farewell. Surprised, yet without any hesitation, Esther throws her arms around him. As if, at that moment, there was nothing in the world she needed more than the embrace of a mighty bear.

In this deep, childlike happiness of today, First of Four remains—warm and heavy—as if everything were just a sweet dream of companionship, chatting, laughter... and yes, even a little crying.
"Your Royal Highness..." he murmurs in a sonorous voice into the soft, glowing silence. "Seek and find the strength of a bear."
Esther closes her eyes. At first, she seems unable to find the words, then a soft, involuntary sob escapes her throat. But almost in the same breath, as if to ease the heaviness of the moment, she whispers: "Ah... patati, patata."
First of Four gently separates from the beautiful stilt creature. With the picture under his arm, he turns to the door. Not another word, not a backward glance. Only the soft creaking of the floorboards accompanies him as he disappears down the hallway.
Esther stands still. She hears the door open, then the gentle closing.
Then she steps to the window and watches him go. And just as he seems to disappear between the trees, she can't believe her eyes: In the deep shadows of the night, the bear stands up to its full, imposing height, raises its powerful arms behind its head, spreads its heavy paws—and then—without any run-up—performs a perfectly formed and extremely elegant somersault.

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