"Hurry!" shouted the bear's friend
The little bear grunted. His footpads were getting sore, and his back ached.
"We're almost there." said his friend.
The little bear gave his friend a sidelong look as they walked. His question was clear.
"I can't explain it."
The little bear smiled at his friend.
"I know, not even now, I cannot explain it."
They had their claws interlaced, and the little bear was getting tired of being pulled by his arm.
"But it will make sense."
They walked for a time in silence.
"When we arrive, be nice."
The little bear snorted.
"I know you're nice! But you always do that thing with new people."
The little bear thought for a while longer, thinking of how many times they'd met new people. Not many.
"Just, don't show it your teeth or anything. Be nice."
The woods were growing darker. The Little bear and his lifelong friend were used to catching fish in the sandy shallows of the river and sleeping in low brush. They did not go where the needles were deep and the trees towered overhead. The little bear kept peering left and right. It was quiet, this deep in the woods.
"I know, but don't worry. Don't worry my friend. We must go on into the woods. We have to find it again. You'll be nice, because I know you can be so nice, and you'll change. And when you do you'll be like me. You'll see and you'll understand. You'll speak. We must go on. And then we will be together."
Listen, nobody in this comic is going to advocate the taking of drugs.
But on the other hand no one's going to lie to you either.
Did you notice I'm doing comics in different styles? How are we all feeling about that?