The sun shimmered through the leaves of the trees. as it set at Bea's back. She was returning from a meaningful strolling exercise. She raised her arms, relieved that she had not seen the mist creature earlier that morning.

You may remember that at the beginning of our story, she once again had her exercise interrupted by a strange creature moving through the fog. This humble wee bear wanted to talk to the maker of everything in an appreciative tone about her happy day.

Her next thought as she entered her cave home was to do her sweet stepstooling exercise where she went up and down her step stool carrying her pots of honey which she enjoyed as her "be good to myself" treat. We have learned along with Bea that things don't always go the way we plan.

We sometimes see something but it doesn't really click in our brain. It's as if our eyes see it but not our brain. The movement was there in the corner of her left wee bear eye. Her brain did not want to see it. She did her pretending exercise.

Her fears were growing and the fifty bees were swirling around inside her. It must have been staring in from of the cave opening with its head crooked. The sun shining behind it caused its shadow on the wall. She wondered if this were a baby of the larger fifteen-legged fog creature which she had seen a couple of sunrises ago.

This one had twelve legs. Standing close to Sweet Puppy and Scruffles, she dared not move a paw. It was her responsibility to protect them. She hoped her silent gasping had not been heard by anyone especially the creature. It could not know she had seen it and how frightened she was. She needed to do her investigation exercise.

The stepstooling exercise would have to wait. She had to peek. She'd be quick about it. She jerked her head to try to catch a glimpse of the new smaller creature. All she saw was Sweet Puppy and Scruffles standing there. There was nothing beyond them at the opening of the cave.

She hesitated alarming them, as they already had enough problems and bad memories. Turning back to her shelves of honey pots she spied it on the wall again. She spun 'round toward the opening. Just Sweet Puppy and Scruffles. Back around. Still there. Whirling back and forth. The creature. Sweet Puppy and Scruffles. The creature.

She couldn't take it. She had to get doing her stepstooling exercise in spite of this unsettling situation. She also worried that Sweet Puppy and Scruffles would ask her why she was just standing there as if frozen.

She would do her brain exercise quieting herself as she had some of her "be good to myself" treat. And not a word to either of them about this would come from her honey covered lips.