[Major Tom, a big grey tabby wearing a purple harness, is laying on his side in the grass, displaying vast tracts of pale belly. His forepaws are curled, mid-knead. A hand reaches down from above, dispensing belly pets. His expression is blissful.]

Once Tom started showing himself in the booth, he didn’t want to stop. He’d come out for just about anyone, demand love, & generally receive it.

[Tom’s rolled the other way, transported in the joy of a good belly rub.]

& if the people wouldn’t come to him, he’d go to them.

… as long as he was still pretty close to the booth.

[Tom’s standing just outside the booth, between two people who are only shown from about the waist down. One of them is leaning down to pet him, bracing themself on their walking stick. His tail is caught midlash, as it often is.]

& so went the war, Tom getting love, Loiosh getting love, me selling things, CJ having a WONDERFUL time at his first event, & so it went until Friday getting on towards evening, when a friend of mine wandered past the booth walking someone else’s dog. “Oh,” she said, “it’s just there’s a bear in Corvus, so we evacuated the children and animals.”

a WHAT, WHERE,

I camped right NEXT to Corvus two years ago. They’re pretty close to the middle of site. That was … not good.

[Tom’s turned to face the camera, though his back is still arched up into the petting fingers from above. He’s aimed perfectly to walk back on the other side of the walking stick, thus wrapping his leash around the bottom of the thing.]

Things escalated quickly from there. I’d shoved the boys into their crate at the first word of bears that close, & quickly pared down everything else to two small bags I could easily toss in with them, but past that, there wasn’t a lot I could do — merchants weren’t supposed to start breaking down until 8PM, & I don’t think it was later than maybe 6.

As someone who 1) had two snack-sized mammals to keep safe, 2) was close to the edge of site — there was the whole equestrian field between the booth & the edge of the woods, but bears are FAST, & 3) had a booth full of VERY interesting-smelling stuff, I had STRONG opinions about being required to wait several more hours to be allowed to pack down my stuff & shove it into the van. Word of the bear, by now several bears, was circulating, as such things do, & while panic will multiply the number of the enemy regardless of species, some of this was coming directly from people I knew well could keep their heads in a crisis.

I’d just given up on finding the merchant coordinator to ask permission, having decided to err on the side of seeking forgiveness, & set out to get a ride to the parking lot (having asked CJ & Lyssa to shove product into boxes in the meantime — bless you both!) when there was a whole lot of shouting & pointing. Up towards the equestrian field. Where there was, just at the edge of the woods, with nothing between it & my boys but a couple hundred yards of grass — & y’all, bears are FAST — a bear. A really, really BIG bear.

Nearly immediately the cry went up — To the King! To the King!

[Tom’s walking off the left side of the shot, blurry, and trailing his leash, which is, indeed, wrapped around the bottom of the walking stick. Only the one time, fortunately, but still: he’s a problem.]

Oh good, somebody in the back of my head said, the King will send his knights to slay the monster, & all will be well.

… look. I’ve read a WHOLE LOT of fantasy fiction in the course of my life.

ANYWAY I grabbed one end of the crate, CJ grabbed the other, & we BOOKED IT. There was a whole big crowd of people already there when we arrived, & we wormed our asses to the MIDDLE of it, because why YES I’m gonna put all those people between the bears & my boys.

The King didn’t send anyone to slay anything. The King, once everyone had gathered, explained that, what with one thing & another, the least bad idea they had (in consultation with the park rangers) was to evacuate site, let the park rangers chase off the bears overnight without having to worry about all the tasty people, & come back no earlier than 8 the next morning to pack stuff up.

Wheeee! Let’s evacuate nearly a thousand people, many of whom are disabled, down a one lane dirt road, starting just around sundown, with most of the cars parked a mile or so away, bears lurking around, & no evacuation plan whatsoever! What could possibly go wrong?

… it went TERRIFYINGLY smoothly. Yeah, a bunch of people bitched about a bunch of things, I heard about one(1) shouting match, traffic was slow, & not everyone COULD leave site, but people helped people pack up what they needed to, gave each other rides to the parking lots, calmed each other down, held each other’s dogs when they got too bouncy, paused to let other cars into traffic, told horrible jokes, changed tires, gave hugs, & helped those who’d drunk too much to leave or didn’t have anywhere to go to the center of camp where they could be kept safe for the night (guarded, so I hear, by the King’s knights, or at least a bunch of squires). One person, not too far from site & in possession of a pretty big fenced-in field, offered space for all the horses & their riders. Another, no more than an hour away, someone who hadn’t even GONE to Battlemoor, housed probably upwards of a dozen people in her small home. & so on. & so on.

Y’all THIS is community. THIS is how it’s SUPPOSED to work. For those of you who know what I’m talking about, it was a little slice if Terramagne right here in this shitpile dimension we’re all stuck in. I’m sitting here crying as I type, because THIS is what ALL of us need to be doing, not just in the SCA but EVERYWHERE, & it was SO good to see it happening.

Anyway, what with one thing & another, we got everything but the tents & booth furniture into the van, got Ivar on the road, got Megan some help with packing up HER booth (& kept Alexx safely in with the boys for a while), & headed out. CJ stayed at the nearby Love’s truck stop (which I hear became basically the postrevel spot); I had to head home, because the van is still more mouse-laden than I wanted to be sleeping in.

I’d planned to head back down the next day to finish packing up, but my legs didn’t want me standing, much less moving. CJ got everything turn down & packed up, then went on to help a bunch of other people with their camps before heading him. I owe both him & Lyssa a LOT; you two rock!

& thus endeth Battlemoor Whichever Number That Was, henceforth to be known as The One With The Bears.

originally posted on Patreon; support me over there to see posts a week early!