Yi Baolin, of the village of Hui Jaotzu, was warm and comfortable. He was laying on soft bedding, and his wife had her hand resting on his chest. He felt good. Better than good actually, like he had slept a while. Baolin must have, for he’d had the most fantastical dream. It was strange, and it had felt so real, but surely such things didn’t happen. He had dreamt he had been taken by Blaze Bears, and all sorts of strange things had happened. But no. He was here, warm in his bed— The wind shifted. The acrid smell of burning carapace hit his nose. And it all came rushing back. ======================== Yi Baolin was having a wonderful day. He had spent a lovely morning with his wife, his son, and his daughter, teaching his children how to fish with spears as his father had taught him and playing in the river. His children were eager to learn. Baolin was the best fisher in the village. The best man with a spear in general, really, and he was the one everyone came to when there was something dangerous afoot. It was a position he held with pride. With summer well on its way the crops needed little tending, and so life in their village was relaxed. Hui Jaotzu was a blessed place, nestled in the trees and surrounded on both sides by rivers that Blaze Bears generally did not cross—the Chief said it was because they lived at the confluence of three territories, with the river as the boundary… and the bears did not care to provoke quarrels with their neighbours. There, the people of (...)