Maslenitsa had arrived, and the camp buzzed with celebration. Snow still clung to the forest edges, but the air was warming with the promise of spring. Pancakes sizzled on hot skillets, laughter echoed from every corner, and the smell of smoke, butter, and sweet jam filled the clearing. But this year, Maslenitsa had a wild twist.
Because Luna the panther was in charge of the entertainment.
Vikulya had the idea, of course. “Let’s make it unforgettable,” she said, tying a bright red scarf around Luna’s neck. The big cat blinked slowly, then yawned as if to say, You have no idea what you’ve just started.
Luna’s presence alone turned the festival upside-down.
At first, the children were cautious. A panther at a pancake party? Unheard of. But Luna, sensing their nerves, flopped dramatically onto her side next to the pancake table and let out a comically loud mrrow. Then she rolled onto her back and waved her paws in the air like the world’s fluffiest house cat.
The kids swarmed her instantly.
While Vikulya flipped blini with a flourish and Vova passed around jam pots, Luna let three children braid flowers into the fur around her ears. One even painted a little sun on her paw pad with safe festival paint. Luna tolerated it all with royal patience—until someone dropped a pancake.
In a blur of motion, Luna was on it.
“Hey!” Venza laughed. “No fair! That was mine!”
Too late. Luna had already gulped it down and was now licking her lips with exaggerated satisfaction. For the rest of the day, the game became “Keep the Pancakes Away from Luna.” She stalked the tables with the precision of a hunter, and no snack was safe. If someone turned their back for just a second, they’d find their blini mysteriously gone and a set of paw prints in the snow leading away.
Then came the contests. Tug-of-war, sled races, pancake tossing. Luna didn’t compete—she interfered. During a sled race, she chased after the runners, pouncing into snowbanks beside them and sending powder flying. During pancake tossing, she waited until a flapjack was mid-air and would leap gracefully, snatch it, and land with a proud shake of her tail.
“Luna!” Vikulya called, hands on her hips.
Luna trotted over, dropped the pancake at her feet like a gift, and sat down with the most innocent expression imaginable.
As the day drew to a close, the straw effigy of winter was prepared. Everyone gathered, singing songs and dancing in a circle. Luna prowled around the edge, tail flicking to the beat. When the flames were lit, she sat next to Vikulya, eyes reflecting the firelight, her presence strangely reverent.
It was chaotic, hilarious, and slightly dangerous—but no one would ever forget the Maslenitsa where a panther stole pancakes and danced with the children.
And as the sun set behind the trees and the last song faded into laughter, Luna let out a satisfied rumble.
Spring had come.
And she had made sure it arrived in style.
