"The Tree of First Lessons"
In a forest where time moved like mist between branches, two bear cubs clung tightly to the bark of an old pine. Their names were Koa and Tima, the youngest of the Cedar Clan, and today was a sacred day—it was their Climbing Rite, the first tradition passed down from their ancestors.
Their mother had told them, “This tree has seen every cub before you, and it will remember your paws too. Climb not with fear, but with curiosity. The higher you go, the more the forest will trust you.”
With hearts thudding like drums, Koa led the way, his small claws digging into the ancient grooves. Tima followed, not far behind, her eyes wide with wonder. With each step upward, the wind seemed to hum a song older than language.
High above the forest floor, the world looked different. The river shimmered like silver, the clouds drifted like soft thoughts, and the pine needles whispered encouragement.
They paused, side by side on a sturdy limb, clutching the tree as if it were family. And in that moment, they understood: the climb wasn’t just about reaching the top. It was about learning to trust your grip, to face the unknown, and to carry the stories of your people with every step.
Long after they’d returned to the ground, the tree stood still, holding their memory in its rings.
Up the bark, side by side,
Cubs of the forest in spirits they ride.
Each claw a promise, each breath a song,
To the tree of wisdom where the brave belong. 
