Introduction


There you stood, among the many mounds, some aged and grassy, some freshly dug, still smelling like the evening dew. You look around, but despite the slowly slumping fog, everything is still. The only shape similar to yours is of an old oak tree, looking over the lumps in the ground like a mother looks after her children. However, the tree looked more severe, close to jury than family. Only one heap of dirt sat beside it, lonely as every other grave, but much farther away from the watchful tree.

You can't help but walk over to it.

You have no intention of dirtying your clothes and you most certainly did not bring a shovel with you; that would be silly. You are merely here to OBSERVE, not to ACT. That is what you were brought here for; nothing more, nothing less. Moving on, you see an odd shape inside of the tree's crevice, right above the dwarfish hill.

Will you take it?

Of course you will. You will look at it, as well, no questions asked. It is an old hand-made drawing book and judging by the weak level of craftsmanship, made by a child. It is somewhat damaged by the humidity, but still readable. The back is crudely torn off, leaving only five pages.

I didn't expect you to be the overly droll and articulate type, so this goes right up your alley.

Turn to page one if you are intrigued at all. Otherwise, the exit is to your left.

Page One

A lonely house sat in the middle of a forest. It belonged to Mr. Tumbleweed, a man of no importance. No one knew who he was or what he did, as there was no one to ask. He lived only with his puppyblew, Tull. The house sat between the cities of Neovia and Brightvale, cringing and wailing in the wind, but nothing more. Mr. Tumbleweed was an awfully busy man. He would go to the forest, gather wood, chop it up, bring it back, light a fire, go hunting with Tull, bring back food, cook, clean, read, write, wash the dishes and do laundry. And not much more.

- Life is dull, Tull, - Mr. Tumbleweed would say each day to Tull's dismay.

For, Tull was no ordinary puppyblew. He knew of the meepits lurking in the forest and also knew that they would come one day. One day they would come. To take Mr. Tumbleweed and poor Tull away for a very long time, they would. Tull didn't like the thought one bit. No, no no.

NO!

Page Two

Tull devised a plan. A clever plan, cleverer than any petpet has ever come up with. But it took time. Every morning, day and evening when Mr. Tumbleweed prepared meals for them both, Tull devised. Every measurement, every detail must be PRECISE or else all work is for nothing. Seconds followed hours, days and months of senseless research, until Tull could no longer concentrate on catching prey for Mr. Tumbleweed. The food supply shrank, the dinners grew smaller on the plates and Mr. Tumbleweed grew restless.

- You need to pick it up, Tull, - Mr. Tumbleweed would say each day to Tull's dismay.

For Tull was no longer young and eager to please. He was fighting for his master. But he must never find out. No-o, nono. Must never find out.

OR ELSE.

Page Three

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Page Four

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Page Five

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Ripped Page

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It is a journey
I must face...alone.
*dramatic music*
I want to stay on Neopets,
where the dangers of
Meepit invasion
are taken seriously.
Heads Up! You're about to leave Neopia!

You've clicked on a link that will take you outside of
Neopets.com. We do not control your destination's website,
so its rules, regulations, and Meepit defense systems will be
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It is a journey
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*dramatic music*
I want to stay on Neopets,
where the dangers of
Meepit invasion
are taken seriously.
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