Ive got to tell you about the time Tom Harrington went for a walk in the New Forest and almost got a proper scare. Tom loves those long rambles the hush of the trees, the pine scent, the fresh breeze, the birds warbling away. Hed been trekking for a few hours, feeling content, when out of nowhere there was a sharp snap of branches right behind him.
He spun around and froze. From the line of oaks, one by one, a pack of wolves slipped out Id say at least eight, all grey shadows slipping silently over the rustcovered leaves, drawing in. At first Tom thought they were just passing through, but then he saw they were heading straight for him.
A cold chill hit his chest. He bolted for the nearest tree, his rucksack slipping off his shoulders and landing in the grass. Clinging to the bark, he started to scramble up, his hands shaking. The wolves circled the trunk, their low growls blending into a terrifying chorus. One of the beasts leapt, clamped its jaws on Toms boot, and tried to drag him down. He let out a shout, fought his way free, but barely managed to stay on his feet. His heart was hammering like a drum.
He knew he couldnt hold on forever. His mobile was still tucked in the pack, and help was miles away. Then, from deep in the woods, a sound rolled that made his hair stand on end a deep, resonant rumble, not a wolfs bark, but something heavier, as if the earth itself was growling.
The wolves froze. Their ears twitched, bodies tensed. A moment later, a massive shape stepped out from the shadow of the trees.
A huge brown bear lumbered onto the clearing.
He moved slowly, confidently, each step thudding in Toms chest. He stopped a few paces from the pack and let out a roar. It was so powerful the leaves shivered and the birds scattered from the branches. The wolves shivered instantly. One tucked its tail, another backed away, and within seconds the whole pack vanished into the thicket as if theyd never been there.
The bear stayed alone. He lifted his massive head, glanced up right at Tom. The look was heavy, not angry, just intense. They stared at each other for a few heartbeats, then the bear let out a soft growl, turned, and melted back into the forest, disappearing among the trees.
Tom, still clinging to the branch of the tree hed used to pull himself up, felt a wave of relief. Hed escaped death only because another predator showed up. When the fear eased a bit, he clambered down, grabbed his rucksack and looked in the direction the bear had gone.
Thanks, he whispered to the woods.
All that was left was the quiet rustle of leaves, the wind shaking the branches, and somewhere far off a lone owl hooting.
After that day, Tom kept coming back to that same spot, leaving a slice of crusty bread and a drizzle of honey on the clearing. Whenever the mist settled low over the ground, he swore he could feel warm, wise eyes watching from the trees. Maybe it was just his imagination. Or maybe, just maybe, someone or something really looks after that part of the forest.
