Just now the sun fell in the water. I did not like it. Now the moon has come up and I can just see my pen and paper but I wish it was brighter. My tent is stupid. It falls down all the time, so I have curled up in my rucksack. Camping is my worst thing, and maps too. I am frozz, I am hopeless.
Yours tiredoutly,
Up the hilly end of Lonesome Lake
Day 2 – morning
I woke up this morning feeling a bit tickly with ants in my rucksack. They were small but plenty of them, and quite tasty for breakfast. Then I was more cheery. I started walking soon after the sun jumped out. It was hiding behind a hill.
3 hours later.
I have stopped now for a rest and one of Mum’s rabbit rolls. Yum yum, only 25 left, worse luck. Shall probably starve… You know I am a hopeless hunter.
You just think I am a goody-goody, I bet. Is that the reason why I have to go away for badness lessons? But I told you I only cleaned my teeth last week for a joke. And brushing my fur, and going to bed early, that was just to trick you! You ask my cousin Yeller, it was his idea. He said let’s pretend being good. I just said OK. Then you were s’posed to say, “Oh no, Little Wolf has gone barmy.” Then I was s’posed to say, “Arr Harr, tricked you, I am a bad boy really.” But no, you would not listen, you did not understand. You said I must go to Cunning College, I must live in Frettnin Forest until I get my BAD badge and learn Uncle Bigbad’s 9 Rules of Badness.
I bet you won’t make Smellybreff leave home when he is my age. You will just say, “Oh yes, my darling baby pet. You stay here safe with us and watch telly all you want.” And what about Yeller? I ’spect you think he is a small bad wolf but no. You do not see him doing good things like I do. Like the kite he made for me to take with me, with yellow wolf-eyes painted on it. And sometimes he says pardon when he burps, too. Bet his mum and dad are nice and do not send him to school in a faraway forest.
Yours fedduply,
Spring Valley
Murkshire
Day 3
Aaah, the hunters got me in Lonesome Woods, urg.
Only kidding, I am all right really. Had you worried though, eh?
Walked miles today and have got to Spring Valley, but still a long long way to go. Have eaten most of Mum’s rabbit rolls already, boo, shame. I can smell your present for Uncle Bigbad, lots of lovely mice pies. Yum, yes please, scoff scoff (not really).
I wonder if Uncle is as greedy as you said. Hope he is not
Dad’s map is a bit wrong because there is no big black monster between Lonesome Woods and Murky Mountains. I looked and looked but it is only trees here. Off to Roaring River tomorrow.
Love from
Under bridge
Roaring River
Murkshire
Day 4
I am writing this under a bridge at a town called Roaring River. This makes six bridges I have crossed on my journey, and still not even in Beastshire yet.
I am sure it is much much further to Frettnin Forest than Dad said.
Spent last night in a bus shelter. Quite warm and unscary, with my torch switched on going flash. Mum always says yellow eyes are friends with the dark. True, but it is still nice to have a torch when you are a small loner.
Roaring River is too big, not a good place to wake up. There are so many human people here you would not believe. It is not safe for cubs.
Yours watchingly,
Roaring River
Day 4 – night-time
Spent the day in Roaring River. I like the cars, they are nice and smelly and good growlers. And buses are best of all. They go FSSSHHH when they stop and the people line up and get inside them. It is funny, just like Dad eating sausages.
This morning I wanted to try being a sausage. So I got in a line behind a large woman at the bus stop. Then guess what, she hit me with her shopping just for wearing a fur coat. She said, “Take that for animal rights.” I said, “Stop, I am an animal!” She said, “What sort?”, so I told her and she ran off screaming, har har.
Her shopping was quite tasty except for some white powdery stuff in a box. It made your tongue go bubbly…
Yours spittily,
Somewhere rocky
near the road north of
Crowfeet Crossroads
Day 5
I was glad to leave Roaring River. Feel a bit better after a good gargle in a stream, and all the nasty froth spat out at last.
Got to Crowfeet Crossroads by noon. Nice houses here, but not as nice as our smelly cave. Did not see any people, only a post box to post this.
I had a think today. Do you know what? Everybody else thinks I am bad, even if you think I am a Goodie-4-Paws. Remember when Mum was asleep that time and I nipped off her whiskers with the claw clippers? And what about when I glued Smellybreff’s tail to his high chair? So whyo Y do I have to make this stupid long journey?
Just now I thought I heard Yeller calling me. It was only a train howling in the valley. I am going now up the steep and wiggly path through the Murky Mountains.