The hunting party leaves base camp armed with only a pen, a sheet of paper, a bike and a kick scooter. As we make the turn from West 18th Avenue to Iris Street, Christina Lorenz — flanked by daughters Kayla, 10, and Alaina, 8, and son Nathan, 4 — spot two cold, dark eyes staring back at her from a bay window. “Is that Winnie The Pooh?” someone asks. They creep closer. “It isn’t Winnie The Pooh,” Christina says.