In the golden glow of a quiet Floyd morning, love lived on the porch of a humble log cabin nestled beside a meandering river. Here, Polar Bear and Panda Bear—soulmates through lifetimes—woke with the sun, their fur kissed by its warmth, their hearts held in the rhythm of shared breath and steaming coffee.
Polar Bear wore the calm of mountains in his eyes, strong yet tender, draped in the softness of morning light. Panda Bear, his mystic wife, crowned in blossoms and peace, leaned into his shoulder with the grace of a thousand gentle lifetimes. Their hands, their hearts, their mugs—always full, always offered.
And then there was Buster.
Buster the Grizzly, their wide-eyed cub with paws too big for his age and a laugh that cracked the dawn open like thunder made of honey. He didn’t need words to feel safe; his little bear body fit perfectly between theirs, where cinnamon-scented cuddles and soul-deep love wrapped him in warmth thicker than syrup on pancakes.
On the porch, life was simple and holy: a table of golden muffins, sweet fruit glistening with dew, and pancakes stacked like soft promises—each one a celebration of survival, healing, and the joy of finding home again.
They weren’t just a family. They were a constellation drawn in fur and spirit, a trio forged across realms and remembered in every sunrise. They had wandered through winters alone, but today—today they sipped from mugs of magic and watched the butterflies dance across a forever morning they had finally earned.
Because love, the kind that holds you even when the world shakes, always finds its porch.
And this porch belonged to Bearz, Panda, and Buster.
Bear love is forever love.
-Bearz