Deep in the Hundred Acre Wood where Christopher Robin plays

You'll find the enchanted neighborhood of Christopher's childhood days…

One day, in the Hundred Acre Wood, the sun didn't come up. There was a chill in the air and the usual sound of birds singing was not to be heard. It was a very unnatural day in the Hundred Acre Wood, but it went unnoticed by Eeyore.

No, our friend Eeyore was lamenting the loss of his tail and so had not noticed the lack of birdsong or the absence of light. "Oh well," said Eeyore. "I guess I'll just have to go without a tail. Figures." And so Eeyore trudged along, oblivious to the unusual happenings in the Hundred Acre Wood.

He was completely unaware that he was being watched. However, as he continued his trudge through the Hundred Acre Wood, Eeyore felt like somebody was following him. "Is anybody there?" asked Eeyore. He turned back, but saw no one. "It really doesn't matter, I suppose. They wouldn't want to talk to me anyway."

A pleasant voice echoed through the woods. "Of course I want to talk to you, Eeyore," said the voice.

"Why would you do that?" asked Eeyore, as droll as ever.

A figure emerged from a nearby bush. He had blue fur, a pair of horns jutting out of a red tuft of hair, and purple limbs. The red hair covered his eyes, but he smiled, showing off his sharp teeth.

Eeyore felt a twinge of fear. He had recognized this creature from Owl's drawings. "Do not be alarmed by my appearance, friend," said the strange figure. "You may have heard some horrible stories about me. Rest assured that they are greatly exaggerated. I am the Backson."

"Did you take my tail?" asked Eeyore. "If so, I would like it back. If it isn't too much trouble."

The Backson grinned even wider and said, "Oh no, of course I didn't take your tail. The Backson, or rather I, do not take things. I give."

"Give what?"

"Purpose, my friend," replied the Backson. "Purpose. I help people to realize who they really are."

"I guess that's nice," said Eeyore.

"Take you for example," said the Backson, pointing a purple finger at Eeyore. "All your life you've been looking for something."

"Yes," said Eeyore. "My tail."

"Well, yes, that," said the Backson. "But you've also been looking for someone who understands how you really feel. Rabbit has his gardens, Owl has his books, Tigger has his bouncing, Pooh has his honey. None of them understand the truth that you and I know. All of that means nothing. All of your adventures in the Hundred Acre Wood are pointless. All of the friendships formed here are futile. Some day all of you will die and the Hundred Acre Wood won't even exist as a memory. It's all worthless. You understand this, but they don't get it. You could pretend. You could smile and try to fit in and try to enjoy your time here. But we both know that's impossible. On top of that, even if they did grow to like you for your pretense, you would know deep down inside that it's all a lie. And you would know that you will always be alone. You will never be happy."

"I know," said Eeyore glumly.

"Well, Eeyore, that's why I'm here," said the Backson. "Because I know that it's not you that's the problem. Your so-called friends are likely to look back and say 'Why is Eeyore so blue, so down in the dumps? What's his problem?' But they're the ones with the problem. They run from the truth. You embrace it. And I have arrived to make sure that all of the Hundred Acre Wood embraces that simple truth: Nothing matters. Then they will wake up. They will see things through our eyes. Will you help me do this, Eeyore?"

"I guess so," said Eeyore. "Not that it matters anyway."

The Backson smiled his toothy smile once again. "Precisely."

To be Continued in Chapter Two: Piglet..