The cabin was a cacophony. The bears were in the dining room., munching on one fish after another, almost inhaling them. The six were talking loudly with each other. Grunts, growls, moans, howls, blatters, and snorts, it was a symphony of all things bears. They banged on the plates as elegantly as they could which was not at all. The plates held with some miracle but caused a great sound of cymbalic crashes between the bears’ overture.

And where was Wulver during all this? He was standing in the pantry still as a statue. Behind him, the frenzied feasting of the bears continued but he gave them no heed. His eyes were on the shelves. Just a couple of hours earlier, he had filled them to the brim with salmon--what a great catch that was! And now there were but stray scales scattered on them.

"Confound these bears and their appetite," Wulver said. "Their gut is a chasm, a gorge which no gorging ever made a hint of difference. Might as well serve myself on a platter if this keeps on."

He went to the kitchen to survey what remained of the ret. Fried salmon, salmon with gravy, roasted salmon, there was a lot of fish to go around. For Wulver that is. For Wulver, it was a lot of fish. But for the bears…

There was another grunt from the dining room. “Yes, yes, I am coming.” Wulver groaned and picked up two saucers and placed them before the bears. He did it three more times. He was about to head back to the pantry to do his meditation of despair when there came a scratching at the door.

Wulver questioned the first bear if it had more of it compatriots arriving and the bear shook his head and splattered a good bit of fish gravy on his fur and Wulver's as well. Wulver gave no heed to it for the time being. He picked up the axe by the hearth and went to open the door. This time he wasn't afraid. He had a full village behind his back.

He flung open the door. There was a yelp. And then he saw it was the rascal fox! The door had hit the furry thing on its head. Wulver's gentlemanly nature started to have him apologize immediately but he held it back. Barely. The fox didn't deserve an apology he maintained. Not one who raided his pantry regularly.

"What do you want?" Wulver asked. His tone suggested that the fox better not say he actually wanted something from him. Imagine his surprise when the fox who stole his fish had actually brought him fish. Besides it, the fox picked up a trout and put it in front of Wulver.

Wulver stood there dumbfounded. He didn't expect this to happen. He didn't think the fox would be offering him an olive branch, er fresh trout. And it was fresh, he noticed. He looked at the fox and then saw that its coat was wet.

It fished for me, Wulver thought amazed.

The trout in question was small. But the gesture was big. Nobody had ever fished for Wulver before. It was always him who fished for himself and then some for others when needed. It was the first time somebody else had fished for him.

"Uh, would you like to come in?" Wulver said.

The bears welcomed the fox at the table. Then, they requested Wulver for more fish. Wulver sighed and went to work and cooked the little trout as well. He picked up another plate for the fox as he came out, and after serving the six bears and the one fox, he ate his peace offering at the corner.

It was half-past ten when the banquet was over. Or more like told sternly by Wulver to the bears who asked for more fish that it was over. The bears slept where they ate and poor Wulver spent an hour cleaning the tables, washing the plates, and picking fish bones from the floor.

He felt exhausted again this night. Though it was a different kind of exhaustion than the previous night. The clock struck twelve. And Wulver felt sure nothing was going to happen for the night. He felt quite safe. Six bears and a fox safe. The fox in question retired long before the bears and was dozing away by the warmth of the hearth. Wulver too retired for the night and fell immediately asleep when his head settled upon his pillow.

He was woken up in a state of utter chaos by six roaring bears and one screeching fox. It took him a moment to understand why they were shaking up the cabin. Well, the cabin was shaking. There was an earthquake. Half asleep, he somehow managed to get out of bed and get the front door open (without falling and being squashed by the bears) and rally the beasts out of the cabin and himself. The earthquake stopped soon after.

"Calm down," Wulver said to the panicked animals. "It was just an earthquake. We are all safe now."

No sooner than he said it, a spine chilling moan echoed in the air. All of them stood listening to the phantom howl. It came from the North, far up north from the mountains.

It was a full moon outside. Wulver, while afraid, felt the vigor of the moonlight in his veins. He jumped and what a terrific jump it was. He was up on on the roof his cabin. From there he jumped upon a tree and started to climb. He reached the canopy in seconds. From there, he could see the mountains. It was shrouded in a thick fog. He was sure it was the same fog from the sea. It was there in the mountains.

Suddenly, something white landed upon his snout. Down on the ground, the bears and the fox looked in awe. The flying owl also was caught off guard. Wulver stretched out his hand as more white stuff fell.

Snow... but it's only autumn.