Post by Deleted on Jan 30, 2018 19:22:42 GMT -5
Winnie the Pooh had come to visit Africa.
He had heard of the place; just as stories and tall-tales about a wild land full of big, dangerous creatures. But this was his first time actually visiting it for himself. It seemed like a very nice place.
Well. Perhaps not quite as nice as the Hundred Acre Wood, at that. Actually, considering the general lack of trees and beehives around, it seemed to be quite the poor place for obtaining hunny. Once Pooh gave it some real, honest thought, he had to admit that it might not be a very nice place at all, all things considered.
His tummy agreed with him. Loudly.
It made a sound that went something like: "Mrorrrrghrannnng."
Several nearby meerkats, upon hearing the loud noise, popped up with a shout of: "It's a lion!" and dove into their holes for safety. Luckily there weren't actually any lions or lionesses nearby to hear. They might have thought Pooh's tummy was trying to pick a fight.
"I am sorry, old friend," Pooh said, patting his sore, empty tummy with a gentle paw. "I don't believe we will find much hunny here, no. But, the heffalumps are monstrous, and Africa is a land of many monstrous animals, so it seems to me that this may very well be the place to find a heffalump. And, if we should find a heffalump, I believe we will find our hunny. How does that sound?"
His tummy's response was non-committal.
Well, there was nothing to do with a grumpy tummy but fill it, and to do that he needed hunny, and to find the hunny, he had to first find the heffalumps. Hitching his heffalump-catching net over his shoulder, he found a set of large tracks and began to follow it, quite convinced that they were those of a heffalump. Of course, he did not know what a heffalump looked like, nor what shape its tracks might be, but these tracks were quite grand and, Pooh thought, if they did not belong to a heffalump, perhaps they belonged to a heffalumps relative who could point him in the right direction of the heffalump herd.
Meanwhile, Pooh's lone trek through the African savanna had not gone unnoticed. Several hungry predators were watching him from a save distance, licking their drooling lips and flexing their jaws. They weren't exactly sure what the little yellow thing was or if it could put up a fight, but that big, fat, soft belly did look like a mighty tempting meal.
He had heard of the place; just as stories and tall-tales about a wild land full of big, dangerous creatures. But this was his first time actually visiting it for himself. It seemed like a very nice place.
Well. Perhaps not quite as nice as the Hundred Acre Wood, at that. Actually, considering the general lack of trees and beehives around, it seemed to be quite the poor place for obtaining hunny. Once Pooh gave it some real, honest thought, he had to admit that it might not be a very nice place at all, all things considered.
His tummy agreed with him. Loudly.
It made a sound that went something like: "Mrorrrrghrannnng."
Several nearby meerkats, upon hearing the loud noise, popped up with a shout of: "It's a lion!" and dove into their holes for safety. Luckily there weren't actually any lions or lionesses nearby to hear. They might have thought Pooh's tummy was trying to pick a fight.
"I am sorry, old friend," Pooh said, patting his sore, empty tummy with a gentle paw. "I don't believe we will find much hunny here, no. But, the heffalumps are monstrous, and Africa is a land of many monstrous animals, so it seems to me that this may very well be the place to find a heffalump. And, if we should find a heffalump, I believe we will find our hunny. How does that sound?"
His tummy's response was non-committal.
Well, there was nothing to do with a grumpy tummy but fill it, and to do that he needed hunny, and to find the hunny, he had to first find the heffalumps. Hitching his heffalump-catching net over his shoulder, he found a set of large tracks and began to follow it, quite convinced that they were those of a heffalump. Of course, he did not know what a heffalump looked like, nor what shape its tracks might be, but these tracks were quite grand and, Pooh thought, if they did not belong to a heffalump, perhaps they belonged to a heffalumps relative who could point him in the right direction of the heffalump herd.
Meanwhile, Pooh's lone trek through the African savanna had not gone unnoticed. Several hungry predators were watching him from a save distance, licking their drooling lips and flexing their jaws. They weren't exactly sure what the little yellow thing was or if it could put up a fight, but that big, fat, soft belly did look like a mighty tempting meal.