There came a day that a random peasant called
Encaitare and
a little Green crannogman were walking on a forest path, singing happily something that sounded like this
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QcuopIxpCEo as they went. The sun was low and the forest bathed in orange light, but they were in no hurry. It wouldn't be the first time they slept amidst trees.
As they turned along a sharp bend in the path, their way was blocked by a gang of men. Their clothes and hair gave them away as Braavosi, and the two travellers greeted them politely. The Braavosi, though, were not good men, and they quickly raised their weapons against the innocent wanderers. But as they advanced upon
Encai, a fierce growl reached their ears. They turned to see that the little Crannogman was no longer little, or even human-shaped, but was now a huge, hairy bear!
“Sorcery! Run!” their leader called, but it was no use. With a rabid snarl, his mouth foaming, the bear loped towards the highwaymen. He tore the leader's throat open and ripped out another man's entrails. He jumped on the third man and broke his back, crushed the fourth's head between his paws, bit off the fifth's leg and crushed the sixth's windpipe. Finally he sat down to eat, conveniently making sure he placed his rump on the seventh man's head. The man trashed for a moment and was still. But as the bear proceeded to eat the third man, he noticed he was still alive.
“You may have won today,” he whispered and coughed, “but in the end, the Many-Faced God will come for you. All men must die.”
Encai laughed. “Ah, but... I am no man!”
“Neither am I,” said the little Green crannogman, back in her original shape, wiping blood coyly from her face.
And singing they walked into the sunset.