Arthur had been ambling through the New Forest for a few hours already. He loved these rambles the hush, the scent of pine needles, the clean breeze, the birds chattering away. All was as peaceful as a teabreak in the garden, until a sharp crack of branches rang out behind him.
He whirled round and froze. From behind the trees emerged a line of wolves, at least eight of them, grey silhouettes slipping silently over a carpet of fallen leaves. At first Arthur thought they were just passing by, but then he realised they were heading straight for him.
A cold knot formed in his chest. He lunged for the nearest oak, his backpack sliding off his shoulders and thudding into the undergrowth as he clung to the bark, his hands trembling like jelly. The wolves circled the tree, their low growls merging into a dreadful chorus. One of the beasts leapt, clamped its jaws on his boot and dragged him downwards. Arthur let out a yelp, broke free, and barely managed to hold on. His heart thumped as if it wanted to hop out and join the wolves choir.
He knew he couldnt hold out forever. His mobile was still nestled in the bag, and help was dozens of miles away.
Then, from the depths of the wood, came a sound that made his hair stand on end a deep, rumbling growl, not a wolfs at all but something heavier, as though the very earth were grumbling. The wolves stiffened, ears pricking, muscles tensing. A moment later, a massive shape emerged from the shadow of the trees.
A bear stepped onto the clearing.
He moved deliberately, each step resonating like a drumbeat in Arthurs chest. He stopped a few paces from the pack and let out a roar. It was so powerful that leaves shivered and birds flapped away in alarm. The wolves shivered on the spot. One tucked its tail, another backed away, and within seconds the whole pack vanished into the thicket as if theyd never been there.
The bear stayed, his huge head lifting to regard Arthur. The look in his eyes was weighty, but not angry more bemused than murderous. They stared at each other for a few seconds, then the bear gave a soft huff, turned, and melted back into the forest, disappearing among the trunks.
Arthur, still perched on the tree stump, could hardly move. Hed escaped death only because another predator had shown up. As the panic ebbed, he climbed down, retrieved his backpack, and glanced in the direction the bear had gone.
Thank you, he whispered.
The forest was quiet apart from the wind rustling the branches and, far off, an owl hooting its lonely lament.
Since that day Arthur returned to the New Forest often, leaving a slice of bread and a dab of honey on the clearing. Whenever the mist rolled low over the ground, he swore he could feel warm, intelligent eyes watching from behind the trees. Maybe it was just a coincidence. Or perhaps, in that very woods, someonesomething was still looking out for him.
