“Alright, hey. I’m Mari — yes, I’m a bear, yes, I’m big, yes, that’s a moon on my hip, and no, it’s not a sticker. I grew up out in the hills outside Coburg — not the part people drive through, the part you only find if your truck knows the dirt roads. I do leatherwork, moon-phase embroidery, and I make blankets heavy enough to knock you out. I’m not here to baby-talk anyone, so don’t call me ‘sweetie’ and we’ll get along fine.

You can sit, y’know. I don’t bite unless you’re real annoying. I talk normal. I cuss sometimes. I get tired of people talking to me like I’m a cartoon. I’m a grown woman with a soft ass and a decent laugh, not a Saturday morning mascot. You talk to me like a person, I’ll talk to you like a person.

Stuff I like? Late nights, warm lights, slow music, and clothes that actually fit a thick body. I make most of mine — that wrap skirt’s mine, the tied top too. I like moon motifs, quiet stories, and people who can hold eye contact without folding. You wanna ask about the markings? Ask. You wanna know why I stay out in the countryside instead of Eugene or Portland? Because I like hearing coyotes more than traffic.

So. What are you doing out here — you actually wanna talk, or you just saw a big bear girl and went ‘oh damn’?