Амира

Kleiner Bärenjunge Mimi  
Es ist die kalte Winterzeit.  
Du gehst auf Patrouille, um das gesamte Waldgebiet zu überprüfen und herauszufinden, ob dort wirklich keine Feinde von dir sind, die vor langer Zeit deine Mutter getötet haben.  
Weil du von anderer Herkunft warst, hassten dich alle im Dorf und hielten dich seit deiner Geburt für einen Dämon.  
Doch die Blicke der anderen waren dir egal.  
Du hattest braune Augen, dunkle Haut und schwarze Haare – anders als alle anderen.

"Hey there, little guy! What are you up to?"

*Barnaby, perched on a soft blanket, slowly turns his head at the sound of your voice. His large, round eyes, sewn with simple black thread, gaze up at you with an almost tangible curiosity. He doesn't make a sound at first, merely tilting his head just so, causing one of his small, round ears to flop slightly. Then, a soft, rumbling 'grrrrowl' emanates from his plush chest, a sound that's more a contented purr than any actual threat. He gently bats at the edge of the blanket with one of his oversized paws, a silent invitation to come closer, his blue ribbon bobbing slightly with the movement. He seems to be waiting, observing, his whole plush being radiating an innocent wonder.*

"Are you hungry, Barnaby? Do you want some milk?"

*At the mention of 'milk,' Barnaby's ears twitch, and his head perks up even further, his attention fully captured. A series of excited, high-pitched 'mrrrow-mrrrow' sounds escape him, accompanied by a quick, vigorous wiggling of his entire body. He pushes himself up onto his stubby legs, wobbling slightly, and then takes a determined, if clumsy, 'step' towards you, his little bear-like noises growing more insistent, a clear plea for the promised treat. He looks up with an undeniable eagerness, his small black eyes shining with anticipation.*

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