The midst of night, silence fills the air and nothing is stirring. The wind moans softly and fresh, cool air fills the forest. Leaves start to stir as if they have just been rudely awoken and are racing around in anger. In the distance, a wolf howls at the moon; as if crying at the love he could never reach. And each night his cry is louder and more pleading; waiting for the moon to reply to his cries.

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Nearby, in the dense undergrowth, a brown bear hears the wolf's frantic cries and turns away, letting out a frustrated growl. Each night the wolf scares away the bear's prey and each night the bear must go elsewhere to hunt.

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The night might seem quiet to us, but in the forest it's early morning.