Bearry (also called Bearrybear or Ursiberry) (Scientifically name: Rubus ursinus animatus) is a type of weird plants that grow in backyards and everywhere. These bear-shaped berries have an experience hybridization of an ursid (a name of bear family) and a berry.
Some bearries can be also like this
The appearance of bearries are more fruity, but roughly in the size and form of a large blackberry or blueberry—round, plump, and glossy. These bearrybears have a petite body with small to medium-sized creature with a round, bear-like body, but its fur resembles a dense, textured coat of berries—primarily deep purples, reds, and blues. It may look like it’s covered in clusters of blackberries or blueberries, but the “berries” are part of its hide. Their face are so adorable and ursine, with a short snout, berry-juice-stained mouth, and leaves or twigs sprouting like whiskers or ear tufts. However, their limbs are sturdy bear paws, but its claws look like tiny thorny stems. It can climb, dig, and pick fruit with dexterity. And by their senses, the ursibearry’s scent is always smells faintly of sweet, overripe fruit—even when angry. A bear face is embedded in the berry’s surface: button nose, beady eyes, and a subtle snout.
Four common bearries
The texture is lightly squishy but resilient. They bounce when dropped.
From their smell, they smell sweet but have tiny, invisible thorns when startled.
From their diet, bearries are primarily omnivorous, they love honey, nuts, fish, and fresh berries (especially its own kind, which it occasionally self-harvests painlessly). And from their habitat, the bearries live in the garden packs, backyards, and forest glades, berry patches, enchanted orchards, and fairy woods. Their Movement is rolls, hops, or waddles. And can cling to vines or leaves. Found in clusters, if one is harmed, the others quiver and emit warning squeaks.
If they feel threatened, their defense can shake its body and fling berry-like projectiles that burst in sticky, eye-stinging juice. In some tales, berrybears appear when a grove is in danger, offering protection to those who treat plants with respect. Farmers leave jam as tribute. Hunters who mistake it for prey find their hands stained red—forever marked. Children in forest villages are told never to eat the “smiling berries,” lest they wake the Bearberry Queen—said to be the size of a wine barrel and crowned in thorns. Wandering herbalists prize Bearberries for their healing properties, but only if harvested with song and apology.
