The Tale of a Trash Can Dinner: A Varwolf Conspiracy

     All except one resident: Komorou. Komorou had received specific news from his brother Ghoulore to not trust any Varwolves that made their way to the Altador Forest. Ghoulore was a resident of Neovia and had already dealt with the Varwolves first hand, so surely Komorou's brother was a reliable source of information. Komorou drew his own conclusions and decided that a Varwolf migration wouldn't be temporary– it would be an invasion. The Varwolves would take over the Altador Forest permanently and destroy the very existence Komorou had gotten used to for all these years. He would not let this stand.

     The problem with Komorou standing up against the Varwolves was that he didn't actually know what a Varwolf looked like aside from a crudely drawn one in the letter from Ghoulore. He didn't know about their camouflaging properties or anything outside of Ghoulore dubbing them a pest to the Haunted Woods. Not knowing what a real Varwolf looked like, did not deter the Burlap Quiggle from patrolling the perimeter of his yard, shovel in hand, to keep the beasts from invading his territory. One day, when he built up the courage to leave the perimeter of his yard, he would protect the rest of the Forest, but Varwolves weren't the only creature he was consistently protecting his home from.

     One evening, when Komorou had turned in for the night, a loud clatter came from outside his window. The Quiggle leapt out of his bed quicker than the sound could stop. He grabbed his shovel from his bedside and scurried out the door to catch the vermin invading his territory in the act, but as he stepped around the corner to see what made the sound, there was nothing. Nothing had been disturbed as far as Komorou could tell. There was no sign that anything had broken the perimeter of his yard. He scratched his head as he shrugged off the sound, chalking it up to a hyper-realistic dream. He returned to his bed, but he didn't catch a wink of sleep. Komorou just couldn't shake the feeling that he was definitely intruded on.

     That following morning, Komo impatiently waited for Spraut to make her rounds to him. He had to make sure she knew his concerns about these Varwolves and how welcoming them into the Altador Forest would be their downfall. As soon as he saw the tip of her conical mushroom hat peak over the hill to his house, he began shouting incoherently.

     Spraut quickened her pace to Komorou's house. As she grew near, she slowed to catch her breath. She watched as Komorou tapped his foot impatiently; her regret on today's rounds was immense.

     “Well? Are you going to ask me how I'm doing?” Komorou asked impatiently. He placed his burlap hands on his wide Quiggle hips and scowled.

     “Yes, Komorou. What's wrong with you today?” Spraut asked. She wasn't actually interested in the answer because she knew he was about to head off on some conspiracy tangent. Spraut knew the news of the Varwolves had caused Komorou immense stress and his brother in the Haunted Woods had been no help in putting Komo's worries to rest– instead, he exasperated them. If only she could stop the Weewoos from delivering to Komorou without him noticing.

     “I don't like that sass young lady,” Komorou said with a frown. “I'll have you know that someone or some beast breached the perimeter of my yard and caused a ruckus last night! Those Varwolves could have eaten me and I'm sure you would still go on about how great these creatures are! They should not be allowed here in our forest!” If Komorou had ears for steam to come out of, he would be a teapot at this moment.

     Spraut nodded in fake sympathy as she attempted to carefully think about her words. “I can assure you, they have no interest in eating a Burlap Quiggle. If they had entered your yard, it's probably because you had some gross food laying around. If it was a Varwolf, and I'm not saying it was, they aren't aware of how things work in the Altador Forest and when I finally see one, I will let them know to stay out of your yard. They really are only interested in helping clean up the gross food and other interesting things that may be out in our forest. Their existence isn't harmful or trying to interfere with your existence in any way. I promise,” Spraut said. She hoped some of her words would sink into Komorou's straw brain, but her hopes were low.

     “If a Varwolf eats me and breaks your promise, what's going to happen then, huh? Are you going to send for King Altador to come fix the infestation? Ghoulore said–”

     “Frankly, Ghoulore has no idea what he's talking about.” Spraut snapped. “You can either trust my word for it or you can go back to the Haunted Woods and deal with the pitchforks and torches. That's enough for today. I'll be back tomorrow so I'll address any additional concerns then. Today, though, you can take a breath and go back to your cottage.” Spraut turned from Komorou without another word.

     Komorou sputtered as he racked his brain for anything coherent enough to get her to come back, but he just couldn't get a grasp on his words before she disappeared into the forest. Komorou crossed his arms and decided that if Spraut was going to do anything about it, he would.

     Komorou went back into his cottage and opened the fridge. His first step was to concoct a gross food so foul that a Varwolf would much rather eat him and not the gross food. As he perused his fridge, he realised he had everything for Marshmallows with Gravy. Surely, a Varwolf would find that too foul to eat. He gathered the ingredients and went to work immediately.

     The concoction of Marshmallows, Gravy, and assorted vegetables didn't take as nearly as long as Komo thought they would. Instead of putting them in a bowl like it comes out of the Alien Aisha Vending Machine in Neopia Central, Komorou thought it would make them extra gross to place them directly in an empty trashcan. He grabbed the trash can and marched outside.

     Komorou placed the trash can in the middle of his yard and set up a lawn chair far enough away to not be noticed immediately by a Varwolf, but close enough to be eaten as soon as the Varwolf decides a Burlap Quiggle is a much tastier treat. He was in for the long haul, seeing as though it was unlikely for the Varwolf to strike during the day when the sun filtered through the trees.

     As night fell, Komo started to doze. A long day of sitting tuckered out the Quiggle. Just as a snore left his mouth, a metallic clang rang out, startling Komorou awake. His button eyes jolted open and he caught sight of the back end of a red furred creature. He could have sworn this was an Eyrie by the hind legs and tail, but no respectable Eyrie would willingly eat from a trash can.

     He kept up closer to the creature enjoying its trash can meal before making a sound. “Are you a Varwolf?” Komo asked quietly.

     Startled, the Varwolf used its camouflaging ability to shield itself from Komorou's sight. That didn't stop Komorou from watching the grass bend under the weight of the Varwolves paws as it retreated over the fence into the forest.

     Komorou stood in place– frozen from the confusion of what he just witnessed. A Varwolf would really rather eat gross food over a Quiggle like Komorou? Komo picked up the trash can and shambled back to his house in his disassociated confusion. Ghoulore was wrong. Komorou's assumptions had been wrong. What else had Komorou been wrong about?

     No matter, that was an existential crisis for another day. The Varwolves weren't bad, but surely he was right about the Weewoos. An investigation he would focus his energy on once he figured out how to safely befriend the Varwolf wandering the Altador Forest to feed the rest of his gross food to.

     The End.