100% Wolf (4 page)

'Just wait till I'm human again! I'll, I'll ... destructionate
you!' Freddy threatened from his sack. Of course
the twins had no idea what he was woofing.

'Ruffy-tuff-yip-youy?' repeated Chariot, swinging
the sack through the air.

'Don't cry, Dripsy,' taunted Harriet, giving the bag
a bang. 'We won't let Daddy find you.' With a peal of
laughter the twins ran down the spiral stairs. Freddy
was relieved they were not taking him to Uncle Hotspur,
but whatever his cousins were up to, it wasn't friendly.

Anyway, I can't stay here forever. I'll be a boy again
when the sun comes up and then nobody can keep me in a
bag,
he remembered thankfully.

'So watch out, because that's when I'll be after you!'
he woofed menacingly at his cousins. 'I'll chase you
right out of Milford.'

'Stop barking, dunderbrain,' warned Harriet. 'Do
you want Daddy to find you?'

Furious but nervous, Freddy kept quiet.

Suddenly Chariot dropped the sack on the floor.
They were in Harriet's bedroom on the first floor of
the main castle.

'Groof!' complained Freddy.

'Shush, dog-breath,' his cousin hissed.

Freddy tried gnawing at the sack but it was no use.
He was well and truly stuck in the smelly old bag.

'Are you sure he has one?' Chariot asked his sister.
'He could be thrown out of the Moonlight Gathering
if they knew.'

'I told you I saw it, didn't I?' she replied.

'Well, go and get it then,' he hissed.

While she was gone, Chariot amused himself by
pinching at Freddy through the cloth of the sack.
When the poodle managed to bite his finger at last, he
wailed and jumped back in surprise.

'Ha-ha-hardy-ha!' Freddy woofed in triumph. 'And
when I get out of this bag, I'll bite your farty backside
too!' Chariot listened nervously to the muffled woofs
until he heard Harriet's rapid footsteps.

'Have you got it? Did he see you? Will it work?' he
asked eagerly.

'Of course it will work, dunderbrain!' she snapped,
and pulled the sack towards herself. Freddy had no
idea what they were talking about, but he didn't like
the sound of it.

Harriet opened the sack and Freddy jumped out in
a flash. Just as he had promised, Freddy immediately
caught Chariot by the backside and bit down as hard
as he could.

'Yyyooooowwwww!'
cried the boy, leaping around
the room. Freddy held on tightly, as they raced in a
circle.

'That's it, Charry, hold him,' called Harriet.

She held up a thin chain made of strong metal. A
small white stone shaped like a teardrop dangled from
it like a pendant. In her other hand was a padlock.
Before Freddy knew what was happening, the chain
with the white stone was around his neck and the
padlock fastened tight. Freddy let go of his cousin's
backside in alarm. He shook his head furiously to and
fro but couldn't budge the chain. He tried using his
paw to break it but it was much too strong. He ran to
a mirror and gasped in horror when he saw the small
white stone gleaming back at him. He knew instantly
what it was; all werefolk would have recognised it.

'Moonstone!' howled Freddy in despair.

'Moonstone!' howled the twins in triumph.

This was the most terrible thing that could have
happened to Freddy at that moment. A Moonstone
is a very rare and sacred but
dangerous
object. Noone,
not even Sir Grey Hightail, understood all its
powers.

It was believed that the magic of the stone had
given rise to the first werefolk, many thousands of
years ago. Only two of its powers were known for
certain. The first was that when held or worn by
a normal human, the stone would become hot if a
Fangen approached. Sometimes it could even warm
the human's own blood, which could be a warning.
For this reason any stones known to exist were kept
safely hidden by the Fang Council. If they should
ever fall into the hands of an enemy, they could be
used to hunt down werefolk. It was against the law
of the Moonlight Gathering even to possess one. The
second power was that any Fangen in contact with a
Moonstone could not Transwolfate – and nor could a
werewolf return to human form while in contact with
the stone. As long as he wore that Moonstone, Freddy
Lupin would be Dripsy-Wimpsy forever.

'Hoooowwwwlllll.
Boil my head if that pup is any blood
of mine, sir!'

Freddy froze. There was no mistaking the howl of
Uncle Hotspur coming from below. Despite his troubles
he felt a small wave of relief run over him. Not only
could he still understand humans, he could understand
his uncle's Wolfen words too. This proved that no
matter what he looked like, he did indeed have true
wolf blood in him. No ordinary dog can understand
a wolf, nor a wolf a dog. It was another of the many
reasons they hated and feared each other so much. But
now it gave Freddy a small glimmer of hope.

His hope didn't last long. A terrifying roar echoed
around the castle and grew to a chorus as the visiting
wolves joined in.

'Shame!'

'Shame!'

'Shame!'

The sound was appalling, even to werefolk. Harriet
locked her bedroom door and looked at Chariot in
alarm. Never before had the wolves sounded so angry.
To have the sacred ritual of the High Howling reduced
to a pantomime was a terrible thing. For the Werepack
of Lupin, it spelt disaster. The wolves' anger, which
had been growing for the past half hour, had now
exploded.

Freddy sunk his head in shame. It was all his fault.
All he had wanted was to be a wolf to make his father
proud.

Suddenly there was a tremendous commotion as a
hundred sets of heavy clawed paws thundered across
the stone floor of the hall and out into the garden.

'The Hunt!' gasped Chariot, jumping to the window.
Harriet joined him and they pushed each other back
and forth trying to see.

'The Blood-Red Hunt,' Freddy sighed.

As the newest member of the Great Pack, he should
have had the honour of leading the Fangen in the
Hunt. But how ridiculous would the proud wolves
look being led by a silly black poodle? He couldn't
even catch a mouse, let alone a deer or a fox. Freddy
realised now that the Great Pack would never accept
him as a member. He would be an outcast forever.
He jumped sadly onto Harriet's bed to look out of the
other window.

Down below on the lawn was a chilling and
marvellous sight: a hundred howling wolves circling
and snarling in the white beams of moonlight. As
Freddy watched, Uncle Hotspur shook his huge red
head, opened his jaws and snarled out to the Fangen:
'I, Grand Growler and High Howler, will lead the hunt
in place of that foolster Frederick.'

He leapt to the front of the pack. As he did, a
large grey wolf turned to face him and bared its teeth
menacingly.

'No, Lupin,' growled the old wolf.

'Who's that?' Chariot whispered, pushing his sister
aside.

'It's Hightail, of course!'

'Shush!' Freddy woofed, trying to listen, as the
two wolves circled each other.

'Do you dare stand in the way of the Grand Growler
when he smells red blood?' snarled Sir Hotspur.

The old wolf shook its head.

'You are the Grand Growler no longer, Lupin. The
Fang Council has decided. Your pup has brought
shame upon the most sacred night of the Hidden
Moonlight Gathering. Step aside, Hotspur.'

'What are they saying?' Charry wanted to know.

'How am I supposed to know, dunderbrain? I'm
not a wolf,' Harriet snapped. 'Ask Dripsy-Wimpsy
over there.'

'But neither is he,' Chariot snorted. The twins
gurgled with unpleasant laughter.

At his own window Freddy nearly choked with
unpleasant surprise. He understood what was being
said, but now he wished he didn't. Poor Uncle Hotspur.
He may be pompous and terrifying but it was hardly
his fault that Freddy was a poodle. His uncle agreed
with him.

'That foolster Frederick is nothing to do with me!'
he roared, stamping his paw. 'I told Flasheart that
marrying a human would bring trouble.'

'Remember, Hotspur, that your own grandmother
was a human. And you were only Grand Growler
because your brother was shot by Cripp,' Hightail
replied.

At the sound of that hated name all the wolves
snarled loudly.

'Flasheart was impulsive and vain,' continued Hightail.
'Even so, the dignity of the High Howling was
always safe in
his
hands. You come from an ancient
and honourable pack. Yes, Sir Rathbone saved all
Wolfenkind from destruction, but this disgrace cannot
be overlooked. There can be no place in the Hidden
Moonlight Gathering for the Lupin Pack now. I lead
the Blood-Red Hunt tonight, and on the next full moon
the Council will elect a new Grand Growler.'

Uncle Hotspur sat on his hind legs in shock. With a
fury of snarls and howls the Blood-Red Hunt streaked
across the lawn and disappeared into the darkness of
the woods.

Freddy watched as his uncle, alone in the moonlight,
paced around in a slow circle. Freddy felt so
sorry for all that had happened. Sorry that he was a
poodle, that his Great Night had been ruined, that
he had Moonstone around his neck, and that he had
brought disgrace to the Lupin Pack. He was even sorry
for Uncle Hotspur ... but not too much. Freddy gave
a sigh and put back his head and howled. A rather
thin, not very terrifying and quite obviously poodley
howl.

Before he could react, the smelly sack was thrown
over him once again and he was dumped roughly into
Harriet's wardrobe. The twins were intent on revenge
and Freddy was going to pay for his name-calling.

The next morning, Freddy was disturbed from an
exhausted and miserable sleep by the twins.

'Keep quiet, Dripsy-Wimpsy!' Harriet hissed.
'Unless you want Daddy to make you into a poodle
pie? He's looking everywhere for you.'

Indeed, Freddy could hear his uncle, now a man
again, calling for him furiously. He wisely stayed very
still.

'Yeah, dog-breath. We're going for a little walk
outside,' warned Chariot, as he hauled the sack up.

Freddy's ears perked up at this news. As the twins
carried him downstairs, he started making plans for
escape. All around him were the sounds of the guests
departing. Eventually, when he calculated that they
must have walked outside the gates of the castle,
he began to jump and scratch as hard as he could
until Chariot dropped the bag. Freddy landed on the
pavement with a groan.

'Stupid dog-stench!' the boy cried. 'You've scratched
me.'

'Don't be such a baby,' Harriet snorted.

The Putrid Pair laughed as the sack containing
Freddy rolled about on the floor. It was tied tightly
and there was no escape.

'Poor old Dripsy-Wimpsy,' they taunted. 'Dripsy
by name, wimpsy by nature. Can't even get out of a
bag.'

Freddy howled with frustration and fury. Harriet
bent down to talk to him.

'If you stop struggling, Wimpsy, we'll let you out in
a minute,' she promised.

'And then you'll wish you hadn't!' Freddy woofed
furiously. ''Cos then I'll bite your piggy pink bum.' He
stopped jumping around, nonetheless.

Chariot carefully picked up the sack once more
and the three cousins continued their journey into
town. At last they entered a shop – Freddy could
tell by the jingle of the bell at the door. Inside there
were some most unusual smells: the smell of dogs
(which was, strangely, quite nice to his nose) but also
another, terrible, pong. Freddy's human brain knew
that it was the smell of... what?
Something familiar?
Yes ... he had it! Shampoo, soap and perfume. His
dog nose hated those smells even more than his
boy's nose. To his poodle brain they stank of the very
worst sort of putrid puke, the most vomitous stench.
He heard the Pukesome Twosome giggling. They
obviously had a nasty trick planned for him, but this
time Freddy was ready. This time they would find
out that it is not so easy to pick on a werewolf, even
if he is a poodle.

'Good morning, twins!' sang an unfamiliar voice, a
woman's. 'And how is Mayor Lupin today?'

'Oh, very happy,' Harriet said sweetly, 'because he
has a new pet dog. He's in here.'

Chariot plonked the sack roughly on a table and
Freddy yipped in protest.

'Don't worry, wittle doggie-woggie,' the woman
called out to the sack. 'Evwy wittle puppy is scaredy-waredy
on his first visit to Pammy's Poodle Parlour.'

Freddy woofed in disgust at her ridiculous baby
talk. Then he paused in horror.

What in wolfdom happened at Pammy's Poodle
Parlour?

'Shall we let the bwave wittle doggie out then?'
snoodled Pam, reaching her hand out to the sack.

Freddy was on full escape alert. The second the
sack was opened he jumped out. Pam gave a shriek.

'Stinking feet!' Freddy barked. The shop door
was closed and he was too small to reach the handle.
He ran around the room in desperate circles looking
for a way out. His little clawed toes scraped over the
tiled floor as he skidded around. There was no escape!
He yipped in frustration. The twins laughed loudly
as they watched him.

'Oh, isn't he sweet?' cried Pam. 'A wovely wittle
poodle. What's his name?'

'Dripsy-Wimpsy,' Harriet told her with an evil
smile.

'How adorable!' Pam shrieked. 'Come on now,
Dripsy-Wimpsy, Pammy isn't going to hurt the wittle
doggie. I'm just going to make him look pwetty.'

This made Freddy run even faster around the
room. Nobody made a werewolf look pwetty!

'I'll get him,' announced Chariot, chasing after
Freddy. As they raced and lurched around, he crashed
into a chair and knocked over a tray of brushes.

'Oh, do be careful,' Pam called out in alarm. Chariot
ignored her and skidded under a table after Freddy.
He caught hold of his cousin's front paw, but
Freddy nipped at his fingers with a snarl.

'Youch!' yelped Chariot. He jumped up and
whacked his head under the table. '
Youch!'
he bellowed
once more.

Harriet was quicker than them both. She grabbed
Freddy by his hind legs and dangled him in the
air. It was a most undignified position for a wolf to
be in. Freddy tried to bite her but couldn't reach.
Pam had a muzzle over his nose and mouth in a
second. She plonked him onto the tabletop and tied
the muzzle's lead to a little hook on the edge of the
table. Freddy was trapped again! He was furious
with himself. He truly was the world's most useless
werewolf.

He growled menacingly. One day the Putrid Pair
would pay for this.

'Now then, Dripsy-Wimpsy!' Pam said, rearranging
her hair. 'Naughty wittle doggies don't get any doggie
choc-wocs.'

Freddy glared at her.

'Now for Dripsy's new hairstyle.' Pam paused to
think.

'We want
this,'
Harriet said, thrusting a picture
from a magazine in front of Pam's eyes. Freddy craned
his fluffy neck but couldn't see it.

'But that is a style for a wittle girlie doggie, dear.'
Pam put on her spectacles for a better look. 'Dripsy-Wimpsy
might feel silly.'

Freddy growled even louder. He was quite sure
that if Harriet was choosing his hairstyle, he would
end up looking utterly ridiculous.

'Well, Daddy wants this one and he's the Mayor, so
just do it!' Harriet ordered.
'Please,
of course.'

Pam looked doubtful but she couldn't really argue;
the Mayor was the Mayor, after all. She twanged on some
pink rubber gloves and advanced towards Freddy.

Poor old Freddy, what could he do? He had no
choice but to let Pam wet his hair, shampoo him and
put perfume on him. He kept up an incessant growl of
threats throughout the whole ordeal. Next she sprayed
him with pink liquid that made him cough and splutter.
With an electric shaver, she cut away all the hair around
his stomach and from the top half of his legs.

Pam stood back and beamed with pride at her
work. The twins, who had been pulling faces at Freddy
and sniggering throughout, now had tears of laughter
dripping down their cheeks.

'One last thing and we're finished. Oh, isn't that
a nice necklace for a doggie,' Pam commented when
she saw the Moonstone. She hung a little medal next
to it that read 'Dripsy-Wimpsy, Farfang Castle'.

'Yes, we gave it to him for his birthday,' Harriet
replied and glared at her brother to make sure he
didn't give them away.

Freddy felt sick with dread when at last Pam took
off the muzzle.

'My, what a pwetty wittle doggie,' she exclaimed.

Freddy ran to the mirror and howled with horror.
There in front of him stood the world's most ludicrouslooking
poodle. He was bright pink and Pam's work
with the shaver had left him with a pair of woolly
shorts, a cropped vest and little fur socks. There
he stood, a descendant of the proudest and fiercest
werepack in the history of Wolfenkind. From Sir
Rathbone to Flasheart and now to him! It was nothing
less than a tragedy.

'I was supposed to be a hero!' he howled.

The twins shrieked with triumph at their greatest
ever joke.

'Now who's the pink one, Wimpsy?' Harriet smiled
at her glorious revenge. Freddy bared his tiny teeth
and turned to face them.

Whoosh!

He threw himself at the Pukesome Twosome in a
blur of pink fury. The twins cried out and ran towards
the door. Freddy blocked their way, his snarl dripping
with spit.

'I hope wittle Dripsy-Wimpsy wikes his new hair-style?'
Pam said hopefully.

'Like it?' Freddy yapped in disbelief. 'I abso-totalutely
hate it, you silly fruit fart.'

Fortunately for Pam, she couldn't understand his
woofy words.

Meanwhile, Chariot was trying to sneak towards
the door. Freddy spotted him, and skidded into his
cousin's feet, knocking them from under him. As
Chariot fell to the floor, Freddy jumped high and
landed with a yelp of delight on his cousin's soft flabby
tummy. Chariot gasped in shock. Freddy jumped up
and down as if he were on a trampoline.

'Take that.' He landed again.

'And that!' He tried a somersault.

'Get him off me!' the boy wailed and turned over to
crawl away. Freddy jumped onto his back and started
pulling Chariot's underpants up from under his trousers.

'Ow, help! He's wedgiefying me!'

'A Major Melvin Wedgie,' Freddy agreed with
laughter.

The strain on the material was too great and it
tore away. Freddy fell to the ground, still holding
a square of Chariot's underpants in his mouth. He
spat it out with fiendish glee. The boy gasped with
relief.

'Ha-ha-hardy-ha!' Freddy yelped in triumph.

'Dunderbrain dog,' squealed Harriet.

'Oh, dear!' Pam murmured in alarm. 'I have never,
ever seen such a naughty doggie.'

'Oh no? Well, watch this, Pammy Wammy!' Freddy
jumped onto the counter. There lay all Pam's instruments
of torture: baskets of rollers, clips, brushes, scissors,
bows, medals, shampoos, colour sprays and perfumes.

'Now then, Dripsy, down you get. Don't make
Pammy angwy!' Pam sounded concerned.

'I'll sort him out,' Harriet cried, running for a mop
she had spotted in the corner of the room. As she
ran for it, Freddy, with little barks of delight, started
kicking all Pam's baskets onto the floor. They fell with
a terrible clatter.

'Take that, Pammy,' yelped Freddy. When poor
Pam tried to pick him up, Freddy bared his teeth.

'Don't dare touch a werewolf,
human,'
he snarled
and sent some of the pink spray and shampoo flying
through the air.

'Ha-ha-hardy-ha!' he roared.

Then everything happened at once.

With a jangle of the bell the door opened. In
walked Mrs Snythe-Bottom in a full-length red fur
coat, carrying her blue poodle. As she entered, Harriet
swung the mop with all her might.

Wham!

She whacked Freddy on the backside. Freddy and
every remaining bottle of pink, blue and green poodle
dye flew through the air. He sailed over Mrs Snythe-Bottom's
head, out through the door and landed
roughly on the footpath outside with a yelp of pain.
The bottles of dye, however, tipped out all over the
snooty customer and her poodle. Standing together in
dripping pink, blue and green, they howled with fury.
The Putrid Pair squealed like giggling pigs. Poor Pam
looked around in despair at her wrecked parlour.

'Do come in, Mrs Snythe-Bottom,' she squeaked
miserably. 'I am almost weady for wittle Fi-Fi's twim.'

Mrs Snythe-Bottom was not impressed. 'You'll pay
for this, Pam. That's a promise.' The dripping woman
pointed at Pam with long red talons.

Before the Putrid Pair could tear their eyes from
the terrible scene, Freddy raced down the main street
as fast as his pretty legs could take him.