It was late afternoon in the hunting lodge of Bree and men were gathering for their evening meals and drinks, company, news and tales to share between them.
"The fish have come early" One of the older men of the lodge commented as he laid back in his chair, a wooden pipe hung by the corner of his dry lips and a thin line of smoke rising up from the rounded, cracked bell.
"Aye" Another one in his company replied with a slow nod "The nets should be mended so we can make our way north and set it out."
The old man furrowed the bushy grey brows and shut his eyes, groaning under his breath as he scratched across his full, round belly. "The nets haven't been fixed yet?" He questioned with a disappointed tone in his voice.
The younger company let out an awkward laugh and nodded "We didn't think the fish would come this early!" He replied with a tone of jest, bringing the tankard of ale up to wet his throat.
"We best get started then. Jack should be returning soon, will know then where to lay the net out." The younger hunter added placing the tankard back down and popping a slice of meat into his mouth.
Not moments after the man's name was mentioned the door to the lodge flung open and in stepped a stocky young man, panting heavily. The hunters of the lodge turned their heads at the violent opening, a few of them jumping at the loud bang as the door struck the wall.
"Jack!?" One of them barked, rather annoyed at the sudden burst through the door. Before anything else was added a look of concern found many of them as they studied the panicked man.
"What has happened to you, boy? You look like you've seen a ghost!" The older man called out, removing the pipe from his mouth to study the pale young man.
"A-... A bear!" Jack finally managed to mutter out as he stumbled in, sweat dripping from his forehead and his body holding a light tremble. He shut the door behind him and hurried to the counter, pleading the barkeep for an ale and quickly.
"A bear?" One of the men asked, rising to his feet "Near the town!?" He quickly questioned causing a small stir within the lodge. "How close is it? How big?" Another demanded as the hunters shared a look between them, none appearing eager to go facing a bear that might be lurking outside of the hedgewalls.
"No-... No, it's not here." Jack replied as his fingers wrapped around the handle of the tankard to bring it up for a long sip.
"Then what is it, man? Speak up!" The elder grunted as he turned to look behind himself, watching the young man.
"A white bear... I saw.. A white bear" The shaken hunter managed to finally mutter out loud enough for the others to hear as he turned to face them.
The hunters shared a look between them and soon a joined laughter bellowed through the lodge.
"A white bear?" One of them snorted, clearly amused at the notion.
"What sort of drink is Barliman serving these days to have you believe you saw a white bear?" Another added in among the laughter.
"I saw it!" Jack snapped, the pale face starting to turn a bit more red at the laughter around him. "It was as white as new fallen snow and larger than any I have seen before! It was by the lake up north!"
The laughter rose again and a few smacked their thighs and a number of others banged the palm of their hands against the tables. Jack gritted his teeth as he looked over the men, his stomach turning as he was made the laughing stock "It is true!" He snapped again.
"A white bear? There is no such thing!" The elder of the men commented, a crooked grin laying over his dry lips and the mouthpiece of his pipe finding the corner of his mouth again, sucking in a lung full of the smoke and letting it escape again in a long, lazy stream.
"But I-..." The young hunter was caught off by another "What have you been drinking?" A boy of a hunter shouted, finding his chance to impress the older men around him. Quickly the boy rose to his feet and hurried to Jack to smell his breath "Whiskey!"
A few chuckled again at the boy's claim "Now that sort of drink will make any man see white spirits!" A voice from the back called out.
Jack's lip curled and he downed another swig of ale, slamming the tankard on the counter and peering over the gathered hunters with a sense of fury burning in his chestnut brown eyes "It was no spirit! It was a real bear! A white furred bear!"
His claims did not seem to take any hold however as another wave of hearty laughter moved over the men around, more jests made on the young hunter's account.
The man's face turned red from the embarrassment, fury and drink as he swallowed the last of it and stormed out of the lodge with a few calls of a fool, madman and drunk following him. The laughter of the men soon killed as the door slammed behind the young huntsman.
