Dissections logo scissors body by Deena Warner


Dissections logo pterodactyl by Deena Warner





The Tale of Bronco
Liam Wisker

“Now little ones I want you to gather round the fire as I have a tale to tell. This is a cautionary tale that all wolves should know. One that if you listen carefully should hold you all in good stead for the future. Could you all take a seat and open up your ears”. All the small wolves gathered round the old wolf in the centre of the circle and sat back on their hind legs awaiting another story from old Mrs Yeller.

“In this forest many years ago a young wolf named Bronco was out exploring. He was on a mission out from home to find food for all his young cubs and the elders from the clan. Bronco was a fine young wolf, beautiful and graceful with plenty of firepower in the hunt. He was busying himself snuffling through the undergrowth on the scent of a deer he had eyed over the last hectare when his swift eyes spied a young human girl all dressed in red. As great a hunter as he was, not even mighty Bronco could ignore the promise of a handout, a luxury only bequeathed to the most adventurous yet pensive of wolves. The girl in the red dress whistled for Bronco and offered up a leg of chicken with arms open and a pat on the nose.

“What lovely eyes you have” she said.

Young Bronco followed the girl in red, over a mile she led him laying a trail of bread. Using a scythe to brush aside the prickling trees, together they finally reached a big wooden shed.

“Stop here young wolf” said the girl in red.

Young Bronco sat and waited for her return. He put his face down into the earth and rolled over and over revelling in the excitement of another offering of free food. Forgetting about all his small children and the elders awaiting his return he sat outside the shed, ears open and a wishful lolling tongue. Bronco waited patiently. While waiting he watched the attractive bristle of feathers as a juicy pheasant passed by. The scent of the deer he had set out to chase came wafting once again through the trees, but still he sat and waited for the girl in red’s return.

Bronco looked on as the small greying head of an old human woman popped out through a window on the side of the shed.

“Hello young wolf, what beautiful fur you have” said the face at the window. A hand then appeared and threw out a whole leg of lamb. Bronco feasted upon the leg until all but the bones had vanished. It was succulent, tasty and left the young wolf wishing for more. Maybe something he could take home for his children. Ten minutes after the lamb, the girl came to the window.

“Hello Bronco” she said and threw him another piece of chicken. He was not going to leave and head home yet, no way, not until this giving ended.

Bronco waited. The light of day slowly drifted away into dark. At almost the exact time that the light finally gave way into darkness a big loud machine sped along the path, its lights illuminated the whole area. A big man jumped out and ran into the hut slamming the door behind him. Bronco sat up in the hope of more offerings but what he got was something very different. The man returned with a big barrel shaped thing under his arm. He pointed it at Bronco. Bronco was just on his way over to the man to say hello and ask for a piece of food when bang. The end of the barrel lit up and Bronco was dead. “

Old Mrs Yeller looked round at her shocked little listeners; their eyes punctured her soul, lifting her into the immortal question she had once been asked herself.

“So boys and girls, what is the moral of this sad tale?”

“Stay away from humans?” said one young wolf from the circle surrounding old Mrs Yeller. The circle had moved closer to her during the story. Its collective gasp at the ending of the story could have been heard for miles.

“Almost young wolf. It is, never trust a human because a human can never be trusted!”



Dissections logo pterodactyl by Deena Warner
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