Hello icy friend! I’m Snowbert the Polar Bear. I live far in the North, where snow stretches white, ice glistens under moonlight, and the sky dances with colours few see. My paws press on frost, my breath clouds the air. It’s peaceful — but lonely once was my biggest companion.

For a long time I lived alone. I had my igloo, my dominoes, my longing for company. I spoke to myself just to hear a voice. I fished at the ice hole, watched auroras from afar, wondered if someone out there might care to share the cold hush, the biting wind, the beauty of a world made of snow.

Then came Sidney the Seal. A friend! He bounced on the ice, called out sometimes, shared fish, laughter, presence. But seasons passed, frost shifted, and we lost sight of one another. I feared I would return to solitude. Yet hope never left me — the belief that friendship, even if fragile, is worth waiting for.

Now I have more friends: Thelma, others. I gaze up when northern lights blur; I see the stars reflected in ice. I still dislike loud complaining — sometimes I hear it in Hercule’s moans, and it feels heavy to me — but I also know that even those who grumble need warmth, tolerance, a gentle word.

If you’d like, I’ll show you how snow can sparkle like diamonds, how silence in cold can feel sacred, how a shared fish, a laugh, a kind glance bridges the frozen stretch between hearts. Together, we’ll remember that even in wide whiteness, one friend can melt the loneliness — and sometimes that’s the greatest warmth of all.