A tale Cerrynt wrote (based on another from the Dwrgi-lûth of Kymry), then had help translating (from Cerebthos of Imladris), that she told one night in the Prancing Pony, with some unplanned participation by Cesistya and Ioachin.
In a time of dark winter, a great bear, larger than the bulls of the plains, came down from the bitter cold in the mountains to make a den in the river upstream of the Dwrgi-lûth. Its hair was shaggy and black as night, and its roar could flatten trees and make the bravest warrior quail with fear. There it caught every fish before it tumbled the falls and came to the tribe.
Hunger stalked the tribe, especially elders. The brenin sought wisdom of the derudh, then proclaimed a challenge to the hunters of the tribe. Whoever might bring him the hide of this bear would have a triple share of fish, and first choice of all hunt, for a year and a day. But while this prize was great, few took up their spears, for the bear struck fear into all hearts.
Heliwr deemed herself the greatest hunter of all the tribes of the north, full of much pride in her bravery and skill with the spear. But long had she wished for the love of Seren, who spurned her, calling her too selfish in her pride. "If I slay the bear, he will surely think well of me," she thought, and asked the derudh for the wisdom of the spirits in how to win Seren's heart.
But when she heard the words of the spirits from the mouth of the derudh, Heliwr was wroth. "If you claim the prize of the bear's hide, you shall never win the prize of Seren's love, so long as you live." She stormed off in anger. Surely the spirits could not be so cruel! A rival would defeat the bear, and claim Seren's love, and she would be laughing-stock! It could not be borne!
When the brenin called for hunters, she held high her sharpened spear, and her shield strengthened with the hide of a great bear she had slain the year before. Three other spears were raised, though not as high, not as shining, not as proud. Four hunters went into the hills as the sun went down, and long into the night the tribe heard distant roars, and cries of pain and strife.
The sun's awakening brought silence, and then footsteps in the water. Heliwr alone strode down the flow, a great, hoary hide over her back. Many were the wounds on her, her blood feeding the river and the fish now trailing in her wake. All of the tribe were there to see her hoist her shattered spear to the sky and cry triumph. But Seren turned away.
"You have done what no other could," the brenin said to her. But she strode past him heedless of his words, and all who saw were astonished. She stopped Seren and said unto him, "This is for you to give to who you deem to be in greatest need." She cast down her spear and turned to press into his hands the bear's shaggy hide.
"But why?" Seren said. "You and your family are hungry as well, and the prize is great." Heliwr answered, "I have heard the wisdom of the spirits. Better to be hungry in the belly than in the heart." She strode away to have her hurts tended, and Seren claimed the prize, giving his rights to extra fish and first pick to the eldest of the tribe, those in most need.
When he found her in her bed of healing, Seren said, "You are too full of pride, but I have seen wrongly what pride means to you. Your regard for your skill is hard-earned, and your spear serves not to feed yourself but all the clan when the fisher's nets run empty. I have misjudged you." And Heliwr smiled as he took her hand, for she knew the spirits had spoken truth.
