disappeared.
Curious, he stepped off the pavement and towards the woods. As he neared the thick bushes he heard a low voice.
‘Don’t go back. It's not safe.’
‘Who's there?’ Sam asked, trying to peer into the bushes. ‘Who are you?’
‘Come with me. Quick. Quick. They’re coming!’
The bushes rustled and moved but still Sam could not see the source of the agitated voice but such was the urgency in the voice that he squeezed through a gap and entered the woods. He just had time to see someone moving away from him through the thick leaves.
‘Hey!’ called Sam ‘Come back!’ and he hurried to catch up. He saw snatches of someone here and there, someone short he thought, wearing yellow but he could see no more. Then, as Sam crashed through some branches, he almost fell into a small clearing and finally, there, he saw who he had been chasing.
For the first time Sam was able to get a good look at the man, if he could properly be called a man. Large round eyes peered out from a hairy face, a bushy reddish-brown beard covered most of the features below straight and sleek brown hair. A bulbous nose protruded above the bushy moustache. But the thing that took Sam most by surprise was the man's size. He was tiny, less than four feet tall, but stocky, slightly hunched and with large hands. He wore an extremely odd assortment of clothes, the most noteworthy of which was a yellow, tattered and dirty child-sized dress which showed knobbly knees briefly before they disappeared into large, creased and rather muddy and battered leather boots.
‘Who are you?’ Sam said trying not to stare too hard. He had always been taught not to embarrass people who were different, his grandfather had been very clear about that. And now Sam looked more closely this person looked similar to his grandfather's carvings. Very similar. There was a carving in the centre of the mantelpiece in the lounge that looked very much like this small man. That piece of wood would now be nothing more than ashes. Sam felt a sadness crash over him. The small man smiled a large and friendly grin showing white teeth.
‘Keep the noise down.’ he whispered looking around. ‘Name's Weewalk.’ He bowed. ‘Weewalk Pukwudgie at your service. I believe you met my friend Hadan here last night?’
Sam remained silent.
‘Look, we need to get you away from here. The fire last night was no accident. Hadan and I can protect you. We need to protect you.'
The little man looked at Sam carefully. Underneath his bushy beard his mouth twitched and he opened it to say something else. Then he closed it again and chewed his lip briefly before giving a huge sigh.
‘Please,’ he said ‘I need to get you away from here. At least come with me so that I can show you something. Please, follow me.’ and he stumped between the trees opposite, deeper into the woods. Sam hesitated for a moment and then followed, visions of his grandfather's craftsmanship echoing in his mind's eye.
They passed beneath the dark wet trees, Weewalk easily moving between the dripping limbs and branches that poked Sam as he tried to keep up. Weewalk seemed to whisper to himself as he moved, occasionally looking back and fixing Sam with a stare from those big eyes. Sam had never seen such a strange person. He had met someone with dwarfism before. His grandfather had had a friend who was less than four feet tall. She had even appeared in films because of her height. But Weewalk was something else entirely. He was less in proportion somehow. And why on earth was he wearing a grubby and tattered yellow spotted dress? Sam was burning with questions but he kept his distance from Weewalk and moved cautiously, ready to bolt back the way he had come if he sensed danger. As they walked Sam realised that they were heading towards the haunted tunnels which he was usually so keen to avoid. Suddenly doubtful he whispered urgently at Weewalk's small but broad back.
‘Hey, where are we
Curious, he stepped off the pavement and towards the woods. As he neared the thick bushes he heard a low voice.
‘Don’t go back. It's not safe.’
‘Who's there?’ Sam asked, trying to peer into the bushes. ‘Who are you?’
‘Come with me. Quick. Quick. They’re coming!’
The bushes rustled and moved but still Sam could not see the source of the agitated voice but such was the urgency in the voice that he squeezed through a gap and entered the woods. He just had time to see someone moving away from him through the thick leaves.
‘Hey!’ called Sam ‘Come back!’ and he hurried to catch up. He saw snatches of someone here and there, someone short he thought, wearing yellow but he could see no more. Then, as Sam crashed through some branches, he almost fell into a small clearing and finally, there, he saw who he had been chasing.
For the first time Sam was able to get a good look at the man, if he could properly be called a man. Large round eyes peered out from a hairy face, a bushy reddish-brown beard covered most of the features below straight and sleek brown hair. A bulbous nose protruded above the bushy moustache. But the thing that took Sam most by surprise was the man's size. He was tiny, less than four feet tall, but stocky, slightly hunched and with large hands. He wore an extremely odd assortment of clothes, the most noteworthy of which was a yellow, tattered and dirty child-sized dress which showed knobbly knees briefly before they disappeared into large, creased and rather muddy and battered leather boots.
‘Who are you?’ Sam said trying not to stare too hard. He had always been taught not to embarrass people who were different, his grandfather had been very clear about that. And now Sam looked more closely this person looked similar to his grandfather's carvings. Very similar. There was a carving in the centre of the mantelpiece in the lounge that looked very much like this small man. That piece of wood would now be nothing more than ashes. Sam felt a sadness crash over him. The small man smiled a large and friendly grin showing white teeth.
‘Keep the noise down.’ he whispered looking around. ‘Name's Weewalk.’ He bowed. ‘Weewalk Pukwudgie at your service. I believe you met my friend Hadan here last night?’
Sam remained silent.
‘Look, we need to get you away from here. The fire last night was no accident. Hadan and I can protect you. We need to protect you.'
The little man looked at Sam carefully. Underneath his bushy beard his mouth twitched and he opened it to say something else. Then he closed it again and chewed his lip briefly before giving a huge sigh.
‘Please,’ he said ‘I need to get you away from here. At least come with me so that I can show you something. Please, follow me.’ and he stumped between the trees opposite, deeper into the woods. Sam hesitated for a moment and then followed, visions of his grandfather's craftsmanship echoing in his mind's eye.
They passed beneath the dark wet trees, Weewalk easily moving between the dripping limbs and branches that poked Sam as he tried to keep up. Weewalk seemed to whisper to himself as he moved, occasionally looking back and fixing Sam with a stare from those big eyes. Sam had never seen such a strange person. He had met someone with dwarfism before. His grandfather had had a friend who was less than four feet tall. She had even appeared in films because of her height. But Weewalk was something else entirely. He was less in proportion somehow. And why on earth was he wearing a grubby and tattered yellow spotted dress? Sam was burning with questions but he kept his distance from Weewalk and moved cautiously, ready to bolt back the way he had come if he sensed danger. As they walked Sam realised that they were heading towards the haunted tunnels which he was usually so keen to avoid. Suddenly doubtful he whispered urgently at Weewalk's small but broad back.
‘Hey, where are we
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