He pondered the possibility for a moment. It would sure make a fine cap. Warm, soft, reliable, suitable for long travels. He rubbed his rough chin, expression stony and emotionless. I don't travel, though. The bear's still useful, too. Still allowing no emotion show on his face, he concentrated on the present again. A shotgun appeared out of the thin air to his hands. "It's show-time..." James stood up, mounting himself on the bear, driving it at his enemies before any action had been made from either side. He lifted the shotgun to point at the general direction of the enemy army. "For Unicorns!", came the raspy battle-cry. He had allowed the dry, summer-hot air drain his lungs empty and fill them with dust.