Odemon #217 Ursaring

“This mark indicates the trees have delicious berries. Keep in mind if there’s a gash going through it perpendicular the berries are poisonous.”
Ursaring pointed to the tree in question, instructing several Teddiursa on the different tree marks.
“Now this one over here you don’t see too often, it means that another Ursaring has buried their food under this tree.” They sniffed. “Most Ursaring can tell what it is from the smell. This tree has peaches under it.”
One of the Teddiursa started digging under the tree.
“Hold on, little one,” Ursaring said. “You also have to make note around the mark. If there’s a circle around it it’s free to take. If there’s no circle, like with this one, the Ursaring intended to come back. And do you know what we do if we find something of someone else’s?”
“Take it anyway!” the Teddiursa shouted.
“Exactly! Because any Ursaring that obviously marks a spot they intended to return to is an idiot!”
The Teddiursa resumed digging and ate up all the peaches.
“Now then, this mark means that the tree is getting old and is likely to not have anymore good fruits.”
A Teddiursa pointed to a tree. “What does that mark mean?”
“That mark means the tree is a Trevenant.”
“I thought I told you to stop clawin’ at them trees!” Trevenant shouted. “You keep that up and I’m gonna throw you outta this forest!”
“Oh, shut UP, you old geezer,” Ursaring said.
“You can’t tell me to shut up! This forest gotta be cared for, you can’t just be goin’ around cuttin’ notches in trees like that! It ain’t right!”
Ursaring shoved Trevenant to the ground.
“Hey! You can’t do that! I’m the guardian a’ this forest! You listen to me, whippersnapper!”
Ursaring turned to the Teddiursa as Trevenant continued to shout. “Let’s go.” They lazily walked away as Trevenant continued to shout.
“Yeah, you run away! I’ll give you a whuppin’ if you come ’round here again, you hear me?”

-Odemon #217 Ursaring

Odemon #709

“Almost felt you liked the forest! That’s good! that’s uncommonly kind of you,” said a strange voice. “Turn around and let me have a look at your faces. I almost feel that I dislike you both, but do not let us be hasty. Turn around!” A large knob-knuckled hand was laid on each of their shoulders, and they were twisted around, gently but irresistibly; then two great arms lifted them up.
They found that they were looking at a most extraordinary face. It belonged to a large tree-like figure, at least five foot high, very sturdy, with a tall head, and a tall neck. Whether it was clad in stuff like green and gray bark, or whether that was its hide, was difficult to say; shadowy substance could be seen where the bark broke. At any rate the arms, at a short distance from the trunk, were not wrinkled, but covered with a brown smooth skin and green bushy leaves. The large feet had no toes, but there were six of them and looked not unlike the legs of a spider. But at the moment they noted little but the eye. That one deep eye was now surveying them, slow and solemn, but very penetrating. It was red, shot with a pink light.
“Please, who are you? And what are you?”
A queer look came into the old eye, a kind of wariness; the deep wells were covered over. “Hrum, now,” answered the voice; “well, I am a Trevenent, or that’s what they call me. Yes, Trevenant is the word. The Trevenant, I am, you might say, in your manner of speaking.”
“A Trevenant? What’s that? But what do you call yourself? What’s your real name?”
“Hoo now!” replied Trevenant. “Hoo! Now that would be telling! Not so hasty. And I am doing the asking. You are in my country. What are you, I wonder? I cannot place you. You do not seem to come in the old lists that I learned when I was young. But that was a long, long time ago, and the may have made new lists. Let me see! Let me see! How did it go?
Learn now the lore of Living Creatures!
First name the four, the free peoples:
Eldest of all, the Florges-children;
Drilbur the delver, dark are his houses;
Trevenant the earthborn, old as mountains;
Gurdurr the mortal, master of building:
Hm, hm, hm.
Bibarel the builder, Sawsbuck the leaper,
Ursaring bee-hunter, Emboar the fighter;
Houndour is hungry, Buneary is fearful…
hm, hm.
Braviary in eyrie, Bouffalant in pasture,
Stantler horn-crowned; Hawlucha is swiftest,
Swanna the whitest, Snivy coldest…
“Hoom, hm; Hoom, hm, how did it go? Room tum, room tum, roomty toom tum. It was a long list. But anyway you do not seem to fit in anywhere!”
“We always seem to have got left out of the old lists, and the old stories,” said Diglett. “Yet we’ve been about for quite a long time. We’re Diglett.”
“Why not make a new line?” said the other Diglett.
“Half-grown Diglett, the hole-dwellers.
“Put us in amongst the four, next to Gurdurr (the Big-Nosed People) and you’ve got it.”

-Odemon #709 Trevenant