100% Wolf Page 3

  Freddy tiptoed over to the mirror.

  'Oh, stinking smelly feet,' he yipped in despair. There was no doubting his reflection.

  He was a poodle.

  'Why can't I be normal like any other werewolf? I'm supposed to be a hero.' Footsteps were approaching up the spiral stairs. 'Oh, great howls!' Freddy whimpered, his hair going tight with fear. He scampered under the bed once more. To his relief, it was Mrs Mutton who walked in and sat heavily on the bed. To his further relief, he found that he could still understand her. The Fangen could always understand humans when in wolf form, but he hadn't been so sure about himself as a dog.

  'Well, I've never seen anything like this before,' she began unhelpfully. 'Your father had pure Wolfen blood. He was never a poodle, you know, not even once.'

  Freddy sighed. He didn't need to be reminded what a ridiculous son he was for the famously brave Flasheart. His father would have been ashamed of him for sure.

  Mrs Mutton suddenly clapped her hands. 'I remember who you remind me of now. Dripsy-Wimpsy, of course!'

  Freddy had no idea what she was talking about. He didn't want to know; all he wanted was to wake up from this nightmare.

  'Whenever your mother's aunt came to visit she brought her dog too. Well, you can imagine how Hotspur reacted. But Flasheart allowed the ghastly little traitor to stay here for your mother's sake. It was the slyest, smelliest, most cowardly poodle in the world. Always yipping, farting and pooing on your uncle's lawn. You look exactly like her.'

  'Woof!' Freddy objected crossly. He looked nothing like a girl dog and he wasn't farty! Well, not always. Except if he ate baked beans, or broccoli, or ...

  'Sir Hotspur is very upset,' Mrs Mutton continued.

  'Yip,' yelped the poodle, knowing his uncle would never forgive him. He had no wish to be minced into tiny poodle pieces, or mashed like a potato.

  'If I were a poodle, which thank goodness I'm not, I'd stay up here till morning,' said the old lady as she stood and walked towards the stairs. 'Come down tomorrow when you're a boy again. Everything will look better soon, you'll see.' As she began to descend she called back, 'Sir Hotair might even have calmed down by then.'

  Freddy agreed. There was no way he was coming out looking as he did. Fangen only stay in wolf form for the first night of the full moon; the next morning he would transform back into a boy and be safe from this horror until next month. But rather than looking better for Freddy, things began to look decidedly worse just then, as the Pukesome Twosome emerged from the shadows behind the door. They had been eavesdropping.

  'Woof!' Freddy, forgetting his resolution, shot out from under the bed to order them from the room.

  He was snatched up by Chariot and, despite his nipping and kicking, was dumped roughly into an old sack.

  'Such a fierce wolf, not! More like Dripsy-Wimpsy,' Harriet taunted with delight. 'What a sissy.'

  Poor old Freddy snapped and yipped with outrage, but there was no escape. What a terrible ending to his Great Night. Not only a poodle and a national disgrace, but trapped by his archenemies.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Moonstone

  '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.

  CHAPTER SIX

  The Blood-Red Hunt

  '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!'

  'Sha
me!'

  '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.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Pammy's Parlour

  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 d
oggie. 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.