For a long time, Kyungsoo lived alone. He was perfectly content, experiencing the seasons and natural events throughout the years. When he met the wizard, his wizard, he learned a lot about magic, life, death, and responsibility.

Sometimes, he resents his wizard. He was happy as a regular old tree. Feeling the wind in his leaves and the squirrels and birds roosting in his branches was pleasant. The woodboring bugs, however, are not at all missed. He purposely mixes potions with pieces of termites, just to spite them and add a little vindication to the spell.

Other times, he's incredibly grateful to his wizard. Without them, Kyungsoo would never have known so many things, like the sheer depth of his loneliness.

Standing over the forest, part of a crowd he could never touch except to tangle their roots, many lives came and went. The mountains wore down. River stones became smooth. Spirits soared and faded.

He had no conscience to appreciate it but consciousness to acknowledge it.

Then came his wizard, and his life and understanding of what life even is changed. It’s as though the world came into focus, a tall mountain peak visible without the curtains of mist.

The time came for him to find his own apprentice to teach and inspire, and Kyungsoo's friend Jongdae—who boasts he's full human from a magic family, although Kyungsoo can't see much resemblance—is with him when he finds a baby bear crying near the top of a tree. Jongdae changes into a bird and searches the area, finding no fretful parents but spotting a trio of men hauling a bulky sow corpse between them.

Kyungsoo tries talking to the baby bear, but he's either too stupid to understand or too scared, so Kyungsoo takes to the tree and swims up the sap in its veins to sit beside the bear and offer what comfort he can.

He's not used to it.

He's not good at it, either, and he can hear Jongdae snickering from the forest floor where he's playing with a mouse between his fox paws.

Finally, the bear cries himself to sleep. Kyungsoo carries him down the tree and to his house, and Jongin has been with him ever since. It's been many years, and he's learned enough to take a small variety of forms and help Kyungsoo with simpler spells and potions.

Something unforeseen on Kyungsoo's part, however, was just how much a baby bear can grow.

And Jongin's a boy bear, so he grows even more.

So much so that Kyungsoo is running out of places to hide snacks.

“Jongin!”

The bear cub flinches but catches the tin of honey sandwich cookies, holding it behind his back in a sad attempt to hide his prize.

“Jongin, put those back, or so help me...” Jongin has a bad habit of eating himself to sleep. It makes lessons very difficult, and depending on where he falls asleep, Kyungsoo has great difficulty moving the cub out of the way.

The bear's shoulders drop, and he looks at the cookies sadly. He just finished a rather heavy lunch of sandwiches and fresh fruit, but there’s always room for cookies.

“Don’t even start with that, Jongin. We’ve talked about this. And you just ate not even an hour ago!” He brushes passed the cub and notices that his pantlegs are getting short. They’ll have to be let out again.

As a tree, Kyungsoo grew a lot. It was gradual, over time, every new sprout, leaf, and twig something precious and to be proud of.

Jongin just grows. There’s no rhyme or reason. He whines that his legs ache, or that his shoes don’t fit, or his shirts are too small. It’s not proportional growth. It makes no sense, so Kyungsoo can’t predict anything to be prepared. Everything is new and unexpected, and Kyungsoo honestly hates it.

But he loves Jongin, and his wizard once told him that the rigidity of a tree is great support, but it needs to be even a little flexible, or it’ll break against the wind or under the weight of the snow. Neither are permanent; they’ll pass. Jongin is Kyungsoo’s wind and snow. He’s trying to be flexible, especially since raising a cub is totally new to him.

He finds he needs more time to himself to be alone with his thoughts. Sinking his roots deep into the ground, he finds refreshing dampness and enriching soil. The sun shines on his leaves and warms his trunk while his branches stay shady and cool.

Bees drift on the lullaby breeze, nuzzling into flowers and dusting themselves in pollen. Birds sing to their mates and chicks. Some rest from flight among Kyungsoo’s branches. Cats and foxes slink through the tall grasses. Spirits bask in the light.

For years, Kyungsoo and trees like him have stood in one place, facing droughts and floods, spring to winter, plagues of insects, and strikes of hot lightning. Even with a sound hold within the earth, their very existence isn’t permanent or even guaranteed, although it is often much longer than any other living thing.

He’s friends with the nearby river, guarded by a playful spirit, Joonmyun. Its banks are soft and welcomed Kyungsoo’s roots. The fish nibbling exposed ends tickle. Joonmyun brings Kyungsoo water when he can’t reach, and Kyungsoo will lift his branches to shade fish and frogs from preying birds. The bubbly water is the only thing Kyungsoo knows older than himself and that has an understanding of life, death, and responsibility. Magic is foreign to the water, but it rather enjoys being a part of potions and spells, feeling the swell of others’ power.

How to best train a bear about such things is a mystery. He’s so young, comparatively speaking and just in general. His life is much more fragile and precious. What is the limit of expectation and ability? Where is the line drawn on personal growth versus a comfortable life? It’s questions like these that badger his conscience and consciousness. His wizard never provided any answers, just more questions.

With leaves soaking in the sun, laziness brought on by tranquility lulls Kyungsoo to sleep.

Claws in his trunk wake him. The sun is lower, throwing planes of color across the sky. A weight digs into his bark, kicking little pieces free, and clever toes pick out feasting bugs that make him itch.

Jongin, Kyungsoo’s limbs creak beneath the bear’s weight. What are you doing?

The cub moans, lying on his belly on a thick branch. He sticks his claws in his mouth, leftover insects and sap from the nails. Kyungsoo draws up some wind, blowing up Jongin’s fur until he whines and paws at his bark.

I won’t stop until you talk to me. Use your words, cub. What are you doing here? They have a sort of unwritten rule that when Kyungsoo goes out without inviting Jongin, he’s going out to think, to relax, or to re-energize. The natural sugar from his leaves and sun is more nourishing than any food they could forage for or grow in a garden themselves.

Jongin grunts, catching himself fast when shifting just too far nearly pulls him to the ground.

If Kyungsoo knows anything, it’s patience. He can wait for a very long time.

Jongin isn’t nearly so patient. He sits up, a boy again, and lifts a spider on his fingertip. “I just missed you is all.” He flinches and shakes his arm when the spider crawls too quickly over his knuckles. “You’ve been gone all day.”

All day is a long time to anyone not a tree or water, and Jongin’s so young that he still doesn’t have a broad concept of time outside of himself.

He is learning, though, and Kyungsoo is patient. He can’t begrudge a lonely orphan cub some company.

Climb down, please. We’ll go back together. Jongin’s pleasure is palpable, and he eagerly scurries down Kyungsoo’s trunk. A bear takes its time, but a boy as agile as Jongin seems to fly.

Magic cushions his final leap, and he throws his arms around Kyungsoo. His neck bends so he can bury his face in Kyungsoo’s hair; Kyungsoo isn’t sure if he can rightly call Jongin cub anymore.

Not that he’ll let that stop him. Jongin will always be his cub.

Having been told off plenty of times for his clinginess, Jongin puts a respectable distance between them, running off to chase something and dancing close to show off a handful of mushrooms and the delicate balance of a butterfly on his fingertip before returning to the woods to find something else to impress Kyungsoo with.

“Hyung!” Excitement vibrates in his voice. Kyungsoo follows the tremors to witness Jongin halfway up another tree and hypnotizing a hive of bees. So distracted, they ignore the pilfering paw taking a large comb of golden honey.

Back on the ground with the bees none the wiser, Jongin displays his prize and picks waxy crumbs to on.

“This is not why I am teaching you, Jongin,” Kyungsoo lectures. He accepts a piece of honeycomb, believing its sweetness is second only to the sugar from the sun. Jongin’s pleased smile shines in the fading light. Nightlife is starting to stir. Something hoots a call to the moon; someone else howls a reply.

A different sort of laziness still hangs on Kyungsoo’s bones, making him slow, and he falls behind Jongin. The cub lowers himself to all fours and nudges his head beneath Kyungsoo’s arm. He climbs onto the broad back and sways with the rhythmic, lumbering steps that never seem to trip or falter anymore. Jongin calls some fireflies to light the forest floor and follows them home.

When did Jongin the cub become so reliable? Kyungsoo wonders. Where did the cub who cried in the night or fell over in fear at sudden thunder from the sky or a potion go? What happens when someone grows up?

The fireflies go on their way when they reach the door of their cottage in the hill, and Jongin stands on his hind legs to slide Kyungsoo to his feet. He catches his wizard’s arm, and Kyungsoo marvels at the warmth between their skin before patting Jongin’s head in thanks.

“Get some rest,” he says. “We’ll start early tomorrow.”

Jongin retreats to his room. Kyungsoo yawns and stretches until his spine pops.

Their home is modest and probably smaller than what would usually accommodate a bear, but they’ve made it work. Plants grow on the inside and hang in pots from the walls. Books and papers sit on shelves in an order Jongin still struggles to follow. Handmade rugs add bright color. A nook carved into the dirt wall is Kyungsoo’s personal space, although little claw marks mar the packed soil from when Jongin was younger. Now, the bear would crowd the nook entirely.

The boy fills their cottage in a different way. His stature, though tall and broad and still growing, stooping to walk through doorways, hunches and sometimes cowers in Kyungsoo’s presence, but his laughter and tears and vibrancy fill the space in such a way that Kyungsoo never feels alone.

It hurts to think of the future, then. Indefinite for him; limited for Jongin. He never cared before his wizard, who filled their time together with lessons and explanations and answers to questions Kyungsoo didn’t know he could think of.

Jongin doesn’t need to know it all. Simplicity suits him better. Words of praise, affectionate actions, trips into the woods without reason. Maybe value over comprehension will be the cub’s greatest lesson.

Before lying down to sleep, Kyungsoo recalls the tin of cookies from its high shelf and sets it at the end of the table. Jongin can reach them, anyway, so trying to hide them is a useless effort. Let him overindulge and face the consequences. It’ll just be another lesson.

Just to be prepared, though, Kyungsoo cuts some heads of white flowers and sets them out to dry. Boiled as a tea, it helps soothe an upset stomach.

For a long time, Kyungsoo lived alone. He was perfectly content, experiencing the seasons and natural events throughout the years. When he met the cub, his cub, he learned a lot about the preciousness of time and love.

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a/n: Written for The Little Prince Fic Fest. (prompt no.33 Who knew, Bear cub hybrids can grow this fast? Or rather this tall !! Taller than Kyungsoo. No, Kyungsoo isn't grumpy over sudden realisation that Jongin can reach the highest cupboard where he keeps the cookie jar hidden.)

This is a stranger story than my usual, I think. I can't even remember why Kyungsoo became a tree or where the magic came from or anything. It may have just come from a want for a very big, extended metaphor...

Or just that the prompt said Jongin's a bear, and bears climb trees, so let's make Kyungsoo something Jongin the bear would really like.