Beyond the Deepwoods by Paul Stewart, Chris Riddell

perfectly camouflaged. ‘Wuh!’ it groaned softly and raised a giant paw to its cheek. ‘Wuu-uh?’
    The creature was truly massive, at least twice as tall as Twig himself, and built like a vast pyramid. It had tree-trunk legs, and arms so long its knuckles grazed the ground. The four claws at the end of each limb were all as long as Twig's forearms, as were the two tusks that curved up from its jutting lower jaw. Only its ears – delicate winglike objects, constantly on the flutter – did not look as though they had been hewn from rock.
    The banderbear fixed Twig with its sad eyes. ‘Wuu-uh?’ it groaned again.
    It was in pain, that much was clear. Despite its size, it looked oddly vulnerable. Twig knew it must need his help. He took a step forwards. The banderbear did the same. Twig smiled. ‘What's the matter?’ he said.
    The banderbear opened its mouth wide and prodded around clumsily inside with a single claw. ‘Uh-uuh.’
    Twig swallowed nervously. ‘Let me see,’ he said.
    The banderbear came closer. It moved by placing both forepaws on the ground and swinging its hind legs forwards. As it approached, Twig was surprised to see grey-green moss growing in its fur. It was this that made the banderbear appear green.
    ‘Wuh,’ it grunted as it stopped in front of the boy. It opened its mouth and Twig was struck by a blast of putrid warm air. He winced and turned his face away. ‘WUH!’ the banderbear grunted impatiently.
    Twig looked up. ‘I … I can't reach that high,’ he explained. ‘Even on tiptoes. You'll have to lie down,’ he said and pointed at the ground.
    The banderbear nodded its enormous head and lay at Twig's feet. And, as Twig looked down into its huge and sorrowful eyes, he saw something unexpected quivering there in the dark green depths. It was fear.
    ‘Open wide,’ Twig said softly, and he opened his own mouth to show what he meant. The banderbear followed suit. Twig found himself staring into the creature's cavernous mouth, over the rows of savage teeth and down the gaping tunnel of its throat. Then he saw it, atthe back of the mouth on the left; a tooth so rotten it had turned from yellow to black.
    ‘Sky above!’ Twig exclaimed. ‘No wonder you're in pain.’
    ‘Wuh wuh, wh-uuuh!’ the banderbear groaned and tugged his hand repeatedly away from its mouth.
    ‘You want me to pull it out?’ said Twig.
    The banderbear nodded, and a large tear rolled down from the corner of each eye.

    ‘Be brave,’ Twig whispered. ‘I'll try not to hurt.’
    He knelt down, rolled up his sleeves and took a closer look at the inside of the banderbear's mouth. The tooth, though dwarfed by the two huge tusks, was still the size of a small mustard pot. It was nestling in gum so red and swollen, it looked ready to burst. Twig reached gingerly in and clasped the rotten tooth.
    The banderbear immediately flinched and turned sharply away. One razor-sharp tusk scraped across Twig's arm, drawing blood. ‘Yow! Don't do that!’ he shouted. ‘If you want me to help you, you must keep perfectly still. Got that?’
    ‘Wuh-wuh!’ the banderbear mumbled.
    Twig tried again. This time, although its huge eyes narrowed with pain, the banderbear did not move as Twig grasped the tooth.
    ‘Tug and twist,’ he instructed himself as he tightened his grip on the pitted tooth. He braced himself ready. ‘Three. Two. One. NOW !’ he yelled.
    Twig tugged and twisted. He tugged so hard he toppled backwards, wrenching the tooth round as he did so. It juddered and rasped as the roots were torn from the gum. Blood and pus spurted out. Twig crashed down to the ground. In his hands was the tooth.
    The banderbear leaped up, eyes flashing furiously. It bared its teeth, it beat its chest, it shattered the silence of the Deepwoods with a deafening roar. Then, overcome with a terrible rage, it began tearing wildly at the surrounding forest. Bushes were uprooted, trees knocked down.
    Twig stared in horror. The pain must have