“You’re a bear!”
“Obviously. Bears look like me, I look like a bear; the reason being… I am a bear.”
“But, you can talk!”
“As can you – fun isn’t it?”
“But, I’m ‘not’ a bear!”
“No, and that is your loss; there’s nothing much that I can do about your parentage, now that you’ve been born and raised by… humans!”
“But, you can talk!”
“Haven’t we established that? My, you are a weird one.”
“No. Well, yes; but, what I mean is… you are a talking bear.”
“We all talk.”
“In English?”
“Ah, I see where you are becoming confused. I am talking in ‘Bear’, you, on the other paw, are hearing in English. Life can be funny like that.”
“How… ?”
“And now you are talking in Native American, and I am hearing in Bear. Do you speak many languages?”
“A little of some, and not a lot of many.”
“Bon. Quelle jour est-il?”
“Um, Thursday, I think.”
“Figures.”
“Does it?”
“Oh, yes; I am a big fan of H2G2.”
“I quite like H2O.”
“I assumed you would. Do you travel this way often?”
“No. In fact, this is the first time I have been here.”
“And the last?”
“Sorry?”
“No apologies needed; but, it’s not good to meet a bear (albeit a talking one) in the woods, is it?”
“”No, I suppose not.”
There is a pause of some few seconds.
“Should I run?”
“Do you want to?”
“I feel that I must.”
“Okay, at least you could say that you made an effort to escape your fate.”
“To whom would I say that?”
“Oh I think you would have to have a soft, short conversation with yourself.”
“Right. Thanks.”
The traveller set of at a breakneck speed – which term gained considerable aptness as a twisted root is negotiated with all the elegance of a camel waterskiing.
“Oh, well, that’s a bit of a shame.” said Ashton the bear, returning to his perusal of the vegetation nearby.
Graeme Sandford 
Loved it! Brought a smile to the dial early on a Sunday morn.
Thank you, Cage:) Is it Sunday already? It is! Well, have a great one. G:)
And you. Muffins or pancakes? Both, perhaps. Which do bears prefer?
Vegan Muffins! Bears like porridge – allegedly. G:)