It was late afternoon when Hansel first heard the sound—a low, steady rustling from the edge of the clearing. He froze, his small hands clutching the doorframe. “Gretel,” he called softly. “Something’s out there.”

Gretel rushed to his side, her eyes narrowing as she peered into the clearing. Her breath hitched as she saw it—the bear from the night before. It was massive, its fur a deep, earthy brown that shimmered faintly in the sunlight.

The bear didn’t move toward the cottage. It sat near the edge of the clearing, watching them with an intensity that sent shivers down Gretel’s spine.

“What does it want?” she whispered, pulling Hansel back from the door.

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“I think it… helped us,” Hansel said, his voice filled with wonder. “It killed her, Gretel.”

“And it could kill us,” Gretel replied, her tone sharp. “Stay inside.”

But Hansel didn’t listen. He stepped carefully onto the porch, his small figure dwarfed by the vastness of the clearing. The bear didn’t move, its gaze fixed on him. Slowly, Hansel knelt and placed his wooden carving on the ground.

“Thank you,” he said, his voice trembling but earnest.

The bear’s ears twitched, and for a moment, it seemed to nod. Then it rose to its full height, its massive frame casting a long shadow over the clearing. Without a sound, it turned and lumbered back into the forest, disappearing into the trees.

Hansel watched it go, his heart pounding. When he turned back to Gretel, she was staring at him with a mix of awe and disbelief.

“You’re insane,” she said, pulling him back inside. “But… it didn’t hurt you.”

Hansel smiled faintly. “I think it was protecting us.”