There's this rare event I got once while playing as the king of Corsica and Sardinia.
It all started long ago,years before....
My king, King Albano the III, was mad. Not quite "elect a horse to be chancellor" mad but quite insane still. It was plain to see, what with his odd ravings and the fact that he would strip naked and howl at the moon in the middle of a dinner with his courtiers... It didn't instill any hope in his underlings that His Majesty was in his right mind.
Now, don't think this made him a bad king. His people loved him, he doted on his children and stayed faithful to his wife through the years (except for the bastard but he found the boy and claimed it as his own, since he alleged it came from a rose bush fae he slept with, so who really knows). He made odd laws, like No Pants Allowed, which passed in the year 993, stating nobody should be restricted by life force sucking pants, thus making them illegal. But he did love and defend his homeland with righteous and furious anger, making the whole nudist thing a little easier to deal with.
One day, years ago, he decided to ride out into the countryside and hunt as he did when his country was at peace finallly. He came across a bear who was quite aggressive. Fearing his life, he nocked an arrow and sent it through the beasts skull, felling it. Though he couldn't have guessed that she had a single cub crying out nearby. Feeling his guilty sin deep in his heart, he quickly dismounted his horse and scooped the baby beast into his arms, rocking it, whispering that he would now take care of his new son. He vowed this to God and the cub's mother, not a day would go by where this baby felt neglected.
So he rode back to the castle to tell his wife. Nobody is sure if anyone told him this was just a bear cub, or maybe the king would throw a fit if anyone tried to doubt the bear's legitimacy, but it stayed there nonetheless. It ate dinner with the court and the human children the king later had, wore custom tailored clothing, to which the king stated his son was "a little cubby but some weight never hurt anybody", and even had its own bedchamber.
As the bear's 16th birthday drew near the king woke in the night to the sound of an awful snoring. He knew which room it came from so he tried to write it off as his son just growing into a man and shoved a pillow over his ears. Months later he would notice all of his honey was eaten! How would he eat his breakfast without it? The distraught cook told the king of a thief in the night who would break open and eat honey straight from the jars! What's worse is the burglar only left clumps of fur behind...what a mystery....
That wasn't it, his dear son was beginning to grow hairy. He knew some people could be extremely hairy but this was a little much. He began to wonder what could be wrong....
The king sought fit to have portraits of his loved ones made and had become furious upon finding the damned painter had given his son a horrible huge, comical nose! The nerve!
His son's 16th birthday approached quickly and the king had a party set up just for him. At the birthday feast he made sure to break out only the finest wines he had saved over the years and brought in famous cooks to prepare meals. There were jugglers, jesters, beautiful dancing women, music playing. It was fun! And his son seemed to be in great spirits, stuffing his face with all the food on the table. Then, in what can only be described as a moment of brief clarity, he set down his wine glass and stared at his son. He stood suddenly, slamming his hands on the table, startling the courtiers.
"is that a fucking bear? Has he always been a bear?!"
Nobody knew what to say. Then the king's eyes darkened as the memory of the bear's mother and her death came back and he slumped back in his chair. He never mentioned it again, nor did anyone else dare to either. This was his son. His hairy bear son.
And that's how bears and horses came to run all of Corsica by the year 1300.
