Placidly padding along, the big lumbering form of the bear-man slowly made its leisurely way first up along the edge of the lake, to collect the tiny shriveled black berries that had been overlooked by the birds last winter from amidst the dangerous coils of prickles that were known as "GreenBriar."  Birds and deer subsisted on the things during the winter months, as the perennial vine was semi-evergreen, and kept foliage on even in the winter-- or so his dad told him. He had never seen it himself. Whenever the weather started getting cold, the urge to go to sleep became overwhelming, and without even realizing it, he would just wake up several months later in time for spring.

The nasty little vines would serve their purpose quite well here, and would be a buffet for the birds this winter. Deer did not really like wading through the marshes, though he supposed the ice and snow would harden it up well enough for them to consider foraging among the ruins this winter.

Tucking quite a number of the shriveled little black bastards into the small pouch he had retained, and laced to the inside of his right arm, he had long since begun his long, shuffling and investigatory plod all around the ruins.  There WERE a few edible roots and small fish hidden among the muck, and he was still very famished from his stay in the dungeon. It didn't hurt any to actually play the part he was 'pretending' to be-- especially since he knew how to do it, and it would serve several roles at once.  It was a good hour or more before he was satisfied with having seeded the area with the vicious little horrors he had 'just so happened' to drop into the foraging holes he had been digging, while discretely prompting them to germinate, and greet the summer sun. He had continued 'subtly' coaxing their growth, while doing his lumbering "bear shuffle" amongst the muck and puddles, urging their roots to go deep and wide into the surrounding environs.  The whole damn ruin site was now ringed in, like one giant bear trap, ready to be sprung.

Lazily, he waddled back up to the lake, carefully removed the small sack, then took a nice refreshing dip in the water to get all the mud (and old dungeon stench) off.  

"[color=fdc68a]Are you done yet?[/color]" was the complaint he was greeted with when he returned to Henri, who was wearing his clothes in a most peculiar manner. Almost comical.

"[color=7bcdc8]Yup. I thinks so. I'm ready when you is.[/color]"