THAT'S NO BEAR (polyphonic prose story)

It was late October with a chill in the air. They were strolling there, Blair and his new French friend Claire. They had their flashlights, taking care to beware, hoping prowling cougars were secure in their lairs. Of other such dangers, they were barely aware. It was repellent, large, and black, with a hideous stare, which looked squarely at the pair. With its flare-like glare and mass all covered in wiry hair, Blair almost soiled his new underwear.

Claire calmly mentioned to Blair, “I’d like you met my half-brother, Pierre.”

“How is that there your half-brother, Claire!?” overexcitedly inquired Blaire.   “I know, Pierre went to the finest French schools and is a worldclass gourmet Culinaire; he can speak seven languages with great flair; he is intelligent, talented, and considered most extraordinaire, but I don’t think it’s polite or fair for you to compare,” responded Claire.

Blair was just glad that Pierre was no bear.