Bruno

The distinct fragrance of mountain flowers woke Bruno from his long sleep. With some effort the bear dragged himself to the mud-caked entrance of his hibernation chamber, where icicles had turned to dripping water. He dug away the remaining snow and shoved his head through the hole, a plume of white breath erupting from a yawn.

The air was cold and there was still a lot of snow in the mountains, but there were many patches of grass and the first flowers had begun to bloom. Bruno pulled himself into dawn's weak light and offered a hefty shudder, shifting dirt and snow from his heavy winter coat.

Winter was ending, and that meant only one thing for the bear: it was time to fill his empty belly. And so, without ado, the bear lifted his nose high and began to stomp through the high forests. His keen sense of smell led him to many morsels buried beneath the snow, which, although small, were among the few choices he had this early in the year.