Glenda the Wendle Chapter 7 part 1

Chapter 7

 

Glenda the Wendle meets Walter Wendle

 

Glenda the Wendle didn’t sleep well. She had a strange dream about a wulluf chasing her through Feggy Wood. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t hide from it. What made it worse was that she couldn’t clearly see what the wulluf looked like.

In the end, Glenda gave up on sleeping and got up early. She had breakfast, and her boyfriend Glen joined her.

“Have you ever heard of a wulluf?” she asked.

Glen shook his head. “No, but the name sends shivers down my spine. Why do you ask?”

Glenda explained how Gladys had mentioned that her people were too frightened to leave the Dark Trees because of the wulluf. She didn’t tell him that they were Grockywollers, though.

“Someone must know about wullufs,” she said. “I’m going out to ask everyone I meet.”

 

 

The Squarrel.

 

Glenda set off through Feggy Wood. The first animal she met was a squarrel. It clambered down from a tree and perched on a stump.

“Good morning,” said Glenda.

“Good morning to you, too,” snuffled the squarrel.

“Have you ever heard of a wulluf?” asked Glenda.

The squarrel shook its head. “No, but the name sends a shiver down my back.” Then it hopped onto Glenda’s shoulder, leapt back into its tree, and disappeared.

 

The Tummy crawler.

 

Glenda continued deeper into the wood and stopped beside a tall tree to rest. A tummy crawler slithered up onto a nearby rock.

“Good morning,” said Glenda.

“Good morning to you,” hissed the tummy crawler.

“Have you ever heard of a wulluf?” she asked.

It shook its head. “No, but the name sends a shiver down my back.” With a swish of its tail, it slithered off the rock and disappeared into the bushes.

 

 

The Spiny grubbler.

 

Glenda wandered further into the wood, where a spiny grubbler snuffled its way up to her.

“Good morning,” said Glenda.

“Good morning to you,” snuffled the spiny grubbler

“Have you ever heard of a wulluf?”

The spiny grubbler shook its head. “No, but the name sends a shiver down my back.” Then it turned tail and snuffled away as fast as it could.

 

 

Brenda the Wendle.

 

Glenda ventured deeper into Feggy Wood until Brenda the Wendle suddenly stepped out from behind a tree.

“Good morning,” said Brenda.

“Good morning to you,” replied Glenda.

“Have you ever heard of a wulluf?”

“No,” said Brenda, “but the name sends a shiver down my back. Why do you ask?”

Glenda explained about Gladys and the people of the Dark Trees, careful not to mention that they were Grockywollers. “It was a long time ago,” she added.

“I know someone who might know about wullufs,” said Brenda.

“Who?” asked Glenda eagerly.

“Walter the Wendle,” said Brenda. “He’s the oldest Wendle there is! He says he remembers when these trees were just seedlings.”

“Where can I find him?”

“We’re having a big party tomorrow night,” said Brenda. “I was just on my way to ask if you and Glen would like to come. We were hoping you’d bring some of your spondue cakes with the freezy glittering on top. The party will be where you had your Ball, and the burnyflitters have promised to dangle from the trees to light everything up.”

“That sounds lovely,” said Glenda. “Who’s going to be there?”

“Just the Wendles,” said Brenda. “We’re calling it a Wendling.”

“Will Walter be there?”

“Oh, yes,” said Brenda. “If you ask him about the old days, you won’t be able to stop him talking!”

Brenda laughed and added, “Now, I mustgo and make berry juice for the Wendling. See you tomorrow night when the moon rises!”

Glenda returned home and spent the day happily baking spondue cakes and decorating them with freezy glittering.

The following evening, as the sun set, Glenda and Glen made their way to the clearing in Feggy Wood. Just as Brenda promised, the burnyflitters were dangling from the trees, their lights twinkling.

 

 

The burnyflitters dangled from the trees.

All the Wendles of Feggy Wood had gathered. Glenda placed her spondue cakes on the food table alongside other treats and drinks.

“Where’s Walter?” she asked Brenda.

Brenda led her to an ancient-looking Wendle sitting by himself. His fur was patchy and grey.

 

          

 

Walter the oldest Wendle.

“Walter,” Brenda called out, “this is Glenda. She wants to ask you about the olden days.”

“There’s no need to shout!” grumbled Walter. “I’m not deaf.”

Glenda sat beside him. “Have you ever heard of a wulluf?” she asked.

“Pardon?” said Walter. “I wish young folks wouldn’t mumble!”

Glenda repeated her question, louder this time.

Walter sniffed and paused. “I might have,” he said finally. “But I’d think better if I had a piece of spondue cake and some berry juice.”

Glenda fetched him some cake and a drink, then waited impatiently as he ate and drank slowly.

When he finished, Walter wiped his mouth and spoke. “Not bad, not as good as they used to be when I was young.” He gestured around the clearing. “I remember when these trees were just little seedlings, you know.”

“What about the wulluf?” Glenda reminded him.

Walter began his tale. “There wasn’t just one wulluf—there was a whole pack of them. Fierce hunters, they were. They chased everything in Feggy Wood, and what they caught, they ate.”

 

 

 

The wulluf.

 

Glenda shuddered at the thought.

“They looked like big dogs,” Walter continued. “Their paws were always green from running through the moss, and they had a ruff of fur around their necks—grey, but it looked pale blue in the sunlight. They also had long ears.”

“Green paws and blue fur?” said Glenda.

“That’s what I said!” snapped Walter.

“They didn’t eat Wendles, though. Wendles are nothing but fur and wood. The wullufs chased us for fun and would chew on us to sharpen their teeth. My granddad used to say his grandfather had teeth marks on his leg!”

Walter took a long sip of berry juice before continuing. “There used to be two kinds of Wendles—us and the Green Wendles. The Green Wendles preferred the meadows to the woods, and the wullufs loved chasing them. In the end, the Green Wendles got so fed up, they hid in the Dark Trees, where even the wullufs wouldn’t go. Nobody’s seen a Green Wendle since.”

Glenda gasped. “I’ve seen one!” she blurted, then quickly covered her mouth, remembering her promise not to tell anyone about Gladys.

Walter didn’t seem to notice. “The creatures of Feggy Wood held a big meeting to deal with the wullufs. Someone discovered that loud noises scared them, so everyone made drums, rattles, and shakers. Together, they drove the wullufs out into the meadow.”

“What happened next?” asked Glenda.

Walter took a breath. “The wullufs stopped running and turned to face the creatures. Their leader, Crocky the Wulluf, spoke. ‘Why are you chasing us?’ he asked. The leader of the creatures replied, ‘You’ve eaten too many of us. We won’t let you back into Feggy Wood. If you try, we’ll make even more noise and chase you away for good.’

“Crocky promised to take his pack to the hills and never return if they stopped making the terrible noise. The creatures agreed, and the wullufs ran to the hills. They’ve never been seen in Feggy Wood since.”

“Crocky the Wulluf,” murmured Glenda.

Walter nodded. “When I was little, my grandmother used to tell us stories to scare us into behaving. She said Crocky had green paws, a blue ruff, and big teeth dripping with blood. No Wendle could hide from him.”

“Crocky Wulluf... it sounds like Grockywoller,” Glenda whispered to herself.

“That’s what I said!” grumbled Walter. “Be good, or the Grockywoller will get you!”

“Thank you,” said Glenda.

“Now,” said Walter, “I think I deserve another piece of cake and some berry juice.”