( aberfeldy )

there was a trundling noise and a little rustle in the bushes last night. the dogs started barking, and then there was a knock on the door. feeling a little worried, i answered it. no one was there. i heard a gruff throat clearing and looked down. there, on the back mat, stood aberfeldy.

he says he's runout of jam and heard there was some left in the southern regions. (i was going to explain that michigan is rarely considered southern, but thought i should give him some jam first.) he prefers strawberry. unfortunately, so do i.

{as all small bears do, he eventually wandered into the shop.}