Cinderella and Alangazar - страница 17

there lived a bear.

But not just any bear – a special one.

Her name was Masha the Bear.

When she wished,

she was brown and furry,

with paws like cushions.

And when she chose,

she became a girl – graceful, bright-eyed,

with eyes the color of honey at sunset.

She could do everything:

climb trees,

make raspberry soup,

talk to squirrels,

dance with owls,

and of course – shift forms…

but only when her heart whispered it was time.

One day, as the pines were singing of spring, two visitors entered the forest.

The first was Arthur – a young man in a white cloak.

A cousin of the prince-king.

Polite, poetic, with a scent of almonds and verses in his pocket.

He came for a hunt,

but didn’t wish to harm a thing.

He was searching… for wonder.

The second was Medan —

a mighty bear from the northern mountains.

His fur was like frost-kissed twilight.

His eyes – like fire-lit caves.

He never spoke words,

but each of his paws was a promise to protect.

Both met Masha.

– “Who are you?” asked Arthur, seeing her in girl form by the stream.

– “I am one who lives by the voice of her heart,” she answered.

– “Who are you?” asked Medan, meeting her near the hives,

when she wore her bear form.

She said nothing —

just touched his nose with her paw.

And he understood everything.

Each night she danced in the meadow.

At first – for Arthur:

gentle steps, soft laughter, words like music.

Then – with Medan:

deep turns, breath like wind, two silent souls moving as one.

One gave her earrings of lunar silver.

The other – a stone from the mountain where he was born.

And one day, beneath the great tree,

Masha brought them both together.

– “I can be a bear. I can be a girl.

But I cannot become someone just for you,” she said.

“I will choose the one who loves all of me.”

A pause.

The forest listened.

Arthur bowed his head.

– “I fell in love with the girl.

I would wish you to be human – always.”

Medan was silent.

Then he lay down in the grass beside her.

– “I love you.

Whichever you are.

That’s what matters.”

And then…

Masha transformed again.

But not into a bear,

not into a girl—

but into herself.

Whole.

With a body that echoed the forest,

and a voice that rang like sunlight.

And sometimes,

in the royal gardens,

you might spot a young lady with sparkling eyes,

stroking the grass with a paw like a velvet cushion,

laughing as if she knows a little more than she lets on.

That’s Masha.

She can still become whatever she wishes.

But most of all —

she is fully, truly herself.

The Tale of the White Giant:

Where the Wind Comes to Rest

A warm scent drifted from the fire – sharp like juniper,

and slightly sweet, like dried raspberries.

Masha quietly poured herbal tea into mugs.

The rising steam curled gently upward – straight to the stars.

The White Giant sat a little apart, on a pile of pine logs.

He didn’t eat. He didn’t drink.

He just gazed into the dark sky,

where distant, unhurried worlds shimmered.

His palms rested on his knees.

His breath was steady.

As if everything inside him… had already settled.

As if he knew.

Accepted.

He didn’t speak at once.

First – silence.

Then – a voice.

Low, like an old pine groaning in a morning forest.

But warm.

Calm.

Alive.

– “When I was young…”

(Yes, yes – he smiled slightly, and light settled into the folds of his cheeks.)

“I was young once, too.

And one day… I found myself in a place

you couldn’t imagine – not even in dreams.”

Everyone fell still.

Even the tea stopped steaming —