The Secret Life of Animals What happens to animals in Forest habitats?
Author: Vanessa Walder Illustrations and cover: Simona Ceccarelli Editor: Simona Herzig Loewe Verlag first published 2021
VITA Vanessa Walder Vanessa Walder was born in Heidelberg, Germany in 1978. She grew up in Vienna, Austria, where she later studied the law and became a journalist. During her time at the university she worked for the Red Cross and the Austrian BookClub for Young Adults. In 2001 her first novel, „sisters“ was published by Loewe publishing. Since then Walder has written many books for children and young adults, which were translated into 30 languages, some of them leading the German children's bookcharts for several weeks. Her trilogy „The Wild Bah“ has been adapted for theatre and ist currently in pre-production for an animated streaming show. The trilogy „The Unbearables & me“ received raving reviews from 2019 to 2022, and the new book series „The secret lives of animals“ seems to win just as many readers’ hearts. Vanessa Walder also writes screenplays for movies. „Here comes Lola“ hit cinemas in Europas in 2010 and won several prizes at festivals. In 2016 the even more successful movie „Conni & Co“ followed. A sequel was released in 2017 under director Til Schweiger. Walder also wrote the screenplay for the international production of the animated movie „Bayala“, which was released in October 2019. 2017, 2018 and 2019 Walder received several grands for her screenplays. The movie „Lieber Kurt“, based on a screenplay by Vanessa Walder and Til Schweiger, will hit cinemas on September 15th 2022. Vanessa Walder has been living in Berlin since 2008.
“The White She-Wolf” (Forest, Vol. 1) by Vanessa Walder Content Part 1: Life Lessons * A beginning * Shaggy * Light * The pack * Songs of The Pack * The Ravens * The Best Huntress * Call of The Ravens
Part 2: Know your place * Darer * Jumps * The Hunt * How To Lose * Smart Fights * Fire * Remains
Part 3: Find Your Place * First Try * Wolves * Winter * The Wrong Place * The Huntress
Part 4: New Lives * We Are Pack * Leader of The Pack * Growing * A new beginning * Home Coming * An Ending
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Part 1: Life Lessons A Beginning
The very night Braveness' cubs were born, the world ended. At least that's how it felt to the wolf pack of the River Valley. Summer was still hot and ripe, but there hadn't been any rain in a long time. Now a dreadful storm roared through the valley as none of the wolves had ever experienced. It cracked thick tree trunks just like wolf jaws snapped old bones. Branches and twigs whipped through the air. Needles, cones, and leaves whirled about. Chancer and Tarry, two younger wolves, were supposed to stand guard, but they could hardly keep their eyes open. Again and again, they had to duck behind rocks. Even Broadmaw, the leader of the pack, whimpered uneasily. Fortunately, the sound was drowned out by the roar of the storm. No one wants to know that their leader is scared. The whole pack was nervous enough. Only the female lead wolf in the litter den remained calm. It was not Braveness' first litter. She had already given birth to twelve pups, right here in this cave between the roots of a fallen pine tree, where she herself had been born five years ago. So she knew exactly what she had to do. Days ago, she had widened the cave walls, cleared the floor of needles and cones, and ensured the entrance was the correct size. She had even dug more burrows, just in case she might not be able to get to the pine on the crucial day for some reason. As a mother, she had to be prepared for anything constantly: floods, forest fires, and hostile wolf packs. At least one member of her pack had accompanied her and kept watch during all this. Her family brought her food and stroked the she-wolf lovingly with their heads since they all knew that Braveness had more important things to do.
Her mate, Broadmaw, had set out even earlier than usual every day to make his rounds and keep an eye out for prey or attackers. In the coming weeks, the pack would be short one important huntress but would have four more mouths to feed. Braveness knew, so the pack knew that four new pack members were growing in Braveness' belly. Braveness didn't mind at all that it was storming now and that branches and twigs were flying through the air like arrows and clubs. It also meant that potential attackers would rather try and find safe refuge. As long as the world was roaring and shaking, no foreign pack, no grizzly bear, no coyote would dare attack. The more horrible the storm outside the litter cave, the safer the she-wolf could feel inside. Amid the double security of the storm and the cave, the first puppy found his way into the world. He was black as night. His eyes were closed, like those of all newborn wolf cubs, but his little nose twitched like a beetle dancing on a hot stone. "Welcome, Dancer," the she-wolf hummed, even though she knew he couldn't hear her yet. Broadmaw jerked his head up outside the cave and howled into the storm. But his song no longer had anything to do with fear. Instead, it was pure, unbridled joy. The five other wolves of the pack joined in, and for a moment, their song drowned out even the end of the world. The pack of the River Valley was one member stronger. And with each additional one, the howls of jubilation continued to swell outside the den. "Longhead," whispered Fullness, greeting her youngest son by tenderly licking him clean. The next cub was a girl again: Bigpaw. And the one after that, another male: Spots. Braveness' strong tongue licked her pups and ensured they all found their way to her teats and got their first meal. The
pups fell and crawled over each other and groped their way snout-first to their mother. "Welcome to life," she cooed, wearily closing her eyes. The pack was complete. But a second later, Braveness' eyes shot open again! What? That could not be! With each throw, the wolf mother had felt how many puppies she carried in her belly. This time it had been four. But now – a fifth cub curled up on the cave floor. It was tiny; the smallest wolf cub Braveness had ever seen. It was brighter than its siblings and a girl. No one had expected her. The first sound the little she-wolf heard in her life was a colossal thunderclap right above the cave. It sounded almost as if the sky had been torn open. "Five?" Braveness whispered, completely caught off guard. The little thing gave an amazingly powerful yelp. "Five?" yowled Shaggy, the young she-wolf, who was lying in front of the cave entrance and had pushed her curious snout through the opening. She looked at her younger siblings and raised her lip at the sight of her most petite sister. "Are you sure that's a wolf, Mom? It looks like a pale mole. Maybe you accidentally dug up a mole. We'd better –" Braveness, already licking the baby lovingly, snapped her head up and growled at Shaggy. Immediately the young wolf threw herself on the ground and whimpered. She had gone too far. Her mother seemed to be attached to the pathetic pale little thing. You bet she did! Five felt it from her first breath. She could tell by how her mama gently took her between her teeth and nudged her to a free teat, how she blew her warm breath into Five's face until Five sneezed. How she soothingly licked her damp fur. And then the most heavenly feeling of all: mother's milk in her mouth, her throat, and her
little belly. Five sighed. The world was quite an excellent place. She couldn't wait to see more of it. She did not know that she was much smaller than her siblings. And when her brother Spots' teat slipped out of his mouth, and he decided to go for his sister's, Five stoutly kicked him in the face. Braveness laughed with a snort. And Shaggy in the entrance also let his tongue hang out of his mouth in amusement. "Good kick," she noted approvingly. "Your sister is small," Braveness said. "All the more room she has to grow. And until then - let's take care of her. Even the biggest wolf is lost alone. We are all part of the pack; only the pack is strong." "Yes, Mama!" yelped Shaggy quickly and pushed her way back outside to tell the others that the wolf pack of the River Valley had five new cubs. And that no one had better make jokes about the pale mole if they didn't want to be bitten by Mama or kicked by the mole.
Shaggy
The following day the world calmed down. The river was still raging, dragging heaps of twigs, branches, and leaves, but the air was clear. The other wolves poked their heads into the den and looked at their new pack members. One by one, they could see for themselves that pup number five was indeed exceptionally tiny. Otherwise, however, she didn't seem to lack anything. Five quickly learned that there were four more of her kind. She could neither hear nor see the others, but now and then, one of her brothers or her sister Bigpaw collided with her. Five found this annoying when she was drinking, and she was always drinking. Sometimes she lost her teat because of her siblings' behavior and had to look for it again.
Therefore, in such cases, she kicked the offenders with her hind legs. The maneuver worked best when she used both legs at the same time. For this, Mom rewarded her every time with a warm wet tongue massage, so her behavior was obviously correct. All in all, life seemed to be a delightful condition. All you had to do was drink as long as you wanted and then snuggle up as close to Mama as possible to recover from the exhausting drinking. And when you woke up again, all you had to do was find your teat ... But at some point, Five woke up and couldn't find the teat or Mama Braveness. She kept stumbling against the other four cubs, who were just as confused until something completely new happened: Five discovered that the space around her was much more extensive and that she could crawl much further than expected. And finally, she smelled something that reminded her distantly of Mama Braveness – and then again, it didn't. So Five bumped her nose against what was not Mama Braveness – and was licked by an alien tongue. It wasn't unpleasant, but she wasn't about to let just anyone lick her. "Hey!" Five cried. "Who's there?" "It's me," said Shaggy gleefully. "Your big sister, Shaggy." "My Mama's gone," Five yowled indignantly. "I want my Mama. I don't want a Shaggy." Shaggy yipped again. "Mama will come back when she has fed, little mole. Until then, I'll take care of you." In the meantime, the other wolf cubs gathered behind Five. And because Five was standing right in the cave entrance, one after the other ran up from behind and kept nudging Five against Shaggy. "Things are wrong here," whined Spots. "Mummy's gone, and I smell something funny."
"That's Shaggy," Five explained over her shoulder. "She says she's watching us." "What's a Shaggy?" asked Longhead. "Does it have teats?" Dancer wanted to know. "Do you have teats?" Five asked Shaggy cheekily. "Yes, but only Mama can feed you," Shaggy explained. "Now, march back into the cave before someone sees you." She nudged the pups back into the den with her muzzle and laughed when she heard her siblings' indignant squeals. "How rude!" cried Spots. "The Shaggy knocked us over!" "And laughed at us," growled Bigpaw. "And she doesn't even have teats," Dancer grumbled. "We have to get Mom back," Five said, yawning. The other four yawned as well. "That's right!" Bigfoot shouted and crawled up on the floor. Longbrow had already curled up and smacked his lips with relish as if he were dreaming of milk. His siblings pressed close to him and curled up as well. "That Shaggy can get some action," Five muttered. When she woke up again, she felt the warmth of her mother, had her smell in her nose and found a teat in front of her little mouth. Immediately Braveness licked her petite one tenderly. Five wanted to tell her that Shaggy was mean and that it had been cold and milkless without her mommy, but first, she had to drink, and then she fell asleep again. When she woke up the next time, she had forgotten her complaint.
Light
She didn't know how much time had passed or that time could pass at all, but eventually, Five woke up and opened her eyes. For the first time. "Oh," she said in wonder. "That's new." Where she could smell and feel her mama was a sizeable black outline. Five turned her head and discovered the shape of her siblings next to her. She laughed. Her mother looked at her curiously and poked her in the side. "What's so funny?" "Those are Bigpaw, Longhead, Spots, and Dancer?" asked Five. "They're so tiny." Braveness chortled. "They are small. All cubs are small. You're still growing. Maybe you'll even grow bigger than me." Five cracked her new eyes open wider. "Us? Am I that tiny too?" Her mama licked her. "You're already much bigger than you were a few weeks ago." The message did not please Five. She was small? She didn't feel small at all. Curious, she spun around and was fascinated to discover that she had a tail on her rear end, whatever that was for. And one part of the cave was much brighter than the rest. So bright that Five had to squint her eyes shut because it hurt her head. It took her a while to get used to it. Then she bravely walked toward the bright light – and howled in protest when her mom grabbed her by the back of the neck and put her back with her siblings. "No, don't. Oh, Mom! I want to go over there." "I know, Five, but your siblings aren't ready yet. When they open their eyes, you'll all make your first trip out of the cave together." Disappointed, Five threw herself between her brothers and sister and started licking everyone's face.
"Open your eyes for a minute, Longhead. Come on; you can do it, Bigpaw." "Stop it!" cried Longbrow, writhing under her tongue. "What does she mean by eyes?" Bigpaw asked. "Mom, what are eyes?" Spots asked. "I don't know," Dancer grumbled, "but she's annoying." Five gave up. "How long do I have to wait?" she asked her mom. "Wait? Wolves don't wait. We rest, we gather strength, we observe, we learn." Five placed her head on her paws and wondered aloud: "What am I going to do until the others open their eyes?" "Grow." Five yelped enthusiastically. That was an excellent idea. "And how do I do that?" Braveness gently nudged her toward a teat. "If you want to grow, you have to feed." That was interesting information. Five knew how to feed. And if it made her bigger, she would do it even more. So she snuggled close to her mom and began to drink and grow. But she never took her eyes off the light at the end of the cave.
“Bear King” (Forest, Vol. 2) by Vanessa Walder OT: Bear King Author: Vanessa Walder Illustrations and cover: Simona Ceccarelli Editor: Simona Herzig Loewe Verlag first published 2022 Maybe that is what grizzly bears want most – just to be left alone. They deserve that, at a minimum, and so do we. Steve Nadeau, Biologist and author of Journey of the Bitterroot Grizzly Bear, 2020. Content Part 1: Spring * Scout * The Giant * The Scent of Air * Making Mountains * Life Lessons * Invisible Fences
Part 2: Summer * Wrong Side * Tiny * Face To Face * Night of The Wolves * Blue Skies * A Thousand Questions * Firetwigs and Skybears
Part 3: Autumn * Wild Waters * Scouts Summer * Quick And Painless
Part 4: Many Springs later * Sunny Memories
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Part 1: Spring
Scout
The mountains still lay deeply buried under meter-thick layers of snow. Even the trees were coated in white, as if the world had completely forgotten that there were colors, too. Even the sounds seemed to be wrapped up. Except for the whistling of the wind and the occasional cry of a bird of prey, there was silence. Up here on the mountain peaks, the sun could try hard as it might, the cold did not retreat, and the wind was relentless. But halfway down the valley, the golden rays were more successful. Slowly as a snail, the temperature crept above zero degrees for the first time since late autumn. And finally: After working laboriously, a single drop of water detached itself from the ice at the tip of a branch. Glistening and trembling, it hung in the morning sun until it dripped to the ground and drilled a tiny hole in the snow. A few meters away, something stirred behind a wall of snow as if someone had reacted to the drop. It was the den of a grizzly bear family. While Lida, the mother, was still hibernating, her two cubs were already wide awake. They crawled over her head, buried themselves in her fur, drank gallons of fatty milk, and regularly wrestled to relieve boredom. No one had yet explained to them that grizzlies lie nearly motionless in their burrows for half the year. They don't eat, they don't drink, and they don't even pee. Not because it's too cold for them outside, though the temperatures often drop to minus thirty degrees, but the bears would be well equipped for that with their thick furs. No, the reason for their long sleep is that they wouldn't find anything to eat in the freezing cold and under the meters of snow.
Scout and Way were bears, but they would still have had problems with the cold: after all, they had only been born this winter – while their mother was sleeping. For the birth, Lida woke up shortly and stayed awake just long enough to lick the tiny, naked bear cubs and help them find a teat. After that, she went back to sleep. Lida's heartbeat was slow, her breathing shallow – she hibernated until spring. During that time, the cubs were on their own. Since then, Scout's and her brother Way's life revolved around drinking and sleeping. Gradually, fur started to cover their wrinkled bodies, and they could explore the narrow cave without freezing too much. Their mama emitted not only soft snores but also cozy warmth. And while it was below zero outside, the den was comfortable and warm. The mother bear had padded it softly with grasses and moss in the fall. Scout and Way had never met their father, which would probably not change. Their little world consisted of their mama, sibling, and the den Lida had dug in the mountain, which might still have fit a few squirrels, but no more. When Scout had opened her eyes for the first time, it hardly made a difference because it was so dark that she couldn't see anything anyway. But by now, daylight shimmered through the snow-covered cave opening more often. The two cubs tried again and again to wake their sleeping mother, but she only sighed in annoyance and went back to sleep. She didn't even wake up when, while playing, one of Way's paws landed in her eye. His claws were extra long, and the little ones didn't yet know how to use them properly. Sometimes Scout scratched the ice in front of the cave opening with the claws of her front paws, but it was still thick and solid. And yes it was still that way the next day. And the week after that. And a month later.
But then came a day when it was different, and everything changed. Fascinated, the little grizzly girl watched as single drops formed inside the ice wall and slowly rolled toward the ground. "What's that?" squeaked her brother behind her. Scout courageously licked over the ice – and her tongue stuck to it. "Eeeeh," she exclaimed in surprise. "Sss nt goo." "Huh?" Her brother was confused. He wouldn't be any help to her. So Scout scratched at the ice and pulled and tugged at her tongue – in vain, it remained stuck to the ice. "Elp ee!" Scout roared in panic, rolling her eyes. Way couldn't understand what his sister was saying, but she was clearly in a situation she didn't like. So the little bear started running and slammed full force into the ice. He bounced off and landed on his behind. "Muuuumiiiiie!" This time, her son's scream was enough: Lida woke up. She blinked into the light and tried to comprehend what had happened. None of her cubs seemed to be hurt. She would have preferred to continue sleeping. She had so little strength after the long winter. But "Mm-mm," Scout squealed, tearing at her tongue. Slowly and with difficulty, Lida stood up. Her limbs ached. She hadn't used them in six months. When she was on her feet, she first shook herself extensively. That, too, was incredibly tedious. Then she trotted toward her daughter and contemplated the situation. She bent her head very close to Scout's little face and understood what had happened. Lida licked over the ice with her big, rough, warm tongue, over and over again, until she had licked out a small hole. Finally, Scout could tear her tongue loose and quickly closed her mouth. She whimpered softly. She still couldn't feel the tip of her tongue.
Lida looked at her son Way, sitting on his butt and whimpering quietly. She looked at Scout, rubbing both paws over her mouth to warm up her tongue. So this was her offspring. She sighed. She still had a lot of work to do ... "Hmm," Lida grumbled, turning towards the ice wall, "time for spring." And with a mighty blow of her paw, she broke the wall into a thousand pieces. In front of it, glittering and dripping and the first signs of green – lay the forest.
The Giant
Nothing and no one had to wake him: not the sound of a falling icicle, not the cry of a bird, not the gurgling of swelling streams hastily seeking the fastest way to the valley. The grizzly knew to within half a degree Celsius when the temperatures outside were warm enough to end his winter rest. He could smell it. Scents were his messengers. They delivered news from all over his kingdom. They painted landscapes in his mind, from the mountains down to the ocean, which was more than a day's journey away. The wind carried the scents to his cave high up on the peaks where he slept. They told the resting giant about aromatic pinecones diligent squirrels had buried, about the essential oils of conifers, the sun revealed, about the roots of fresh bushes and shrubs, and the new buds halfway down the valley. Buffalo berries, splendid raspberries, and sweet clover were already stirring under the melting snow. A faint, barely perceptible promise came from the ocean waves – of fish: fresh, delicious fish, without which the larger grizzlies could hardly build up enough fat reserves to get through the winter.
His tactics differed from most of his kind: He had chosen a cave as high up in the mountains as possible. Winter came sooner and lasted longer up here. So he went to rest earlier, soon after the salmon feast at the waterfalls. And since it stayed cold longer, he could sleep longer. When he finally awoke and made his way down into the valley, nature had already prepared its lavish buffet for him, and he immediately began to feed. It had been his twenty-seventh winter. He didn't know it, but he was the oldest bear far and wide. It would not have mattered to him if he had known. He knew so much that it had become necessary to forget less important things. Like the name his mother had given him. But he kept her scent stored in his memory, sometimes bringing it out and warming himself with it, especially when he felt sick or hurt. Names are not necessary for those no one wants to call. Grizzlies are solitary animals. They do not live in families or packs. They do not have hunting companions or friends. They do not associate with other animals. When a grizzly cub is two or three, rarely four years old, its mother abandons it to look for a new mate and have new cubs. All on her own, as is the grizzly way. He did not even have any enemies. There were no animals that could be dangerous to him, not even other male grizzly bears. No other predator was anywhere near as tall as he. From the tip of his tail to the tip of his nose, he measured well over ten feet. Even giant wolves he could sweep aside like pesky flies with a swipe of his paw and had done so often. When he was younger, he had to fight other bears. For territories, prey, females – or simply to see who was more mighty and deserved to grow even mightier and older. He didn't mind fighting, even if he preferred not to. He rarely lost, and the feeling after a victory was breathtaking. Then he stood up on his
hind legs, straightened to his full height, his head almost in the clouds – and allowed this feeling to engulf him that, like him, had no name: a feeling of being the mightiest, the ruler of the forest, the master of the world, the king of bears. The grizzly wore his scars like medals: deep scratch marks on both flanks, where opponents had slashed him with the enormous claws of their paws. One half of one ear was missing, bitten off – he owed that to a female who had defended her cubs. Such creatures were not to be trifled with, not even by him. He could remember her smell and that he thought she was lovely. Her fur had been almost golden, unusually bright for a grizzly. Yet he was of a lighter brown himself. Only the tips of his fur shone in the typical silver of a grizzly, especially at the nape of the neck. That's where he featured a thick hump between his shoulders: the enormous package of pure muscle that every grizzly bear wears like a backpack so that he can control the most powerful arms in the animal kingdom. After six long months of shallow breathing, he now drew air deeply into his lungs. Then, carefully, he moved only the muscles necessary to shift his weight to the lower half of his body. The familiar aches and pains announced themselves: old joints, old wounds, new rigidities ... He greeted them like good acquaintances. This is what spring felt like, a new year, a new summer, a new beginning – good old life. He weighed well over half a ton after the long sleep. He had lost almost a third of his weight, not eating for six months. It would quickly become more again. Even so, he was the biggest grizzly far and wide. The eagles could have told him if he had talked to them: that there were no more bears his size, not even beyond his territory, that he was one of the last remaining grizzly giants about whom legends are told, among men and animals.
Although he had sired hundreds of offspring and they, in turn, had offspring, none of them had reached his height yet. Whether they would match his age remained to be seen. Finally, he stood on all four legs and started moving. The wind tickled his nose. If he'd had more energy, he would have sneezed. As he squeezed through the entrance of his cave, giant icicles broke off and stuck like swords in the ground all around him. Above him, a pine jay sang its song. He liked the birds. When they picked at cones, some always fell to the ground. He could then eat them comfortably without climbing trees, which was very difficult with the long claws and the considerable weight. Soon, he would find a stream and drink. Then, he would leave his mountain peak and walk towards the valley. Then he would go to the seashore, eat shells, breathe the salty air, and then march the long walk to the waterfalls along the outer limits of his territory. Soon. But first came an old ritual ... He trotted to the far edge of the ridge just below the peak and stood up on his hind legs, neck stretched, nose pointed toward the sun. He looked down into the valley. Then he closed his eyes and let the wind tell him what lay ahead. The last giant, the king of the bears, was awake.