The White Weewoo and the Black Gathow

      On a large and beautiful farm, there was a huge herd of Babaa Petpets. The entire area was surrounded by a vast orchard filled with fruit trees. From the entrance of the farm all the way to the great gate, there was a row of coconut trees on both sides, overflowing with ripe coconuts.

     One day, the cook went to pick spherical strawberries to make a delicious pie, the strawberry mince pie. It was the favourite pie of everyone who lived there. She carried a little basket with her and returned with it full of ripe, bright red spherical strawberries.

     While preparing the tasty strawberry mince pie, she listened to the songs of the birds delighting themselves with the coconuts and the fruits of that wonderful place. There was a White Weewoo that perched on her window every single day. He was very used to her and did not mind being fed directly from her hand.

     He was a beautiful bird! The magic of his song brought her peace and joy every day. It was sweet and gentle, like the soft chime of a waterfall flowing through the silence of nature, creating a spectacular symphony that soothed the heart and uplifted the soul. The song of the Weewoo made her feel as though she could travel across the entire valley without ever leaving her place.

     In that house, there also lived a Petpet, the black Gathow, a very clever little cat who loved chasing the Babaas around, making them run desperately all over the farm. It was his favourite pastime: scaring the lovely Babaas, until one day he noticed the spectacular White Weewoo sitting at the window, giving him the perfect chance to catch him up.

     One morning, the Weewoo was singing happily on the kitchen window as usual, while the cook was busy tending the stew on the stove and could not give him the attention she normally did. What she failed to notice, however, was the sly Gathow slowly creeping through the kitchen toward the window where the carefree bird sang peacefully.

     With every step the Gathow took closer to him, his dark eyes gleamed brighter, and drool dripped from his mouth as he imagined tasting the poor little bird.

     Ah! Who could possibly save him from such a terrible ambush?

     The bird remained completely unaware of the danger approaching him and continued singing beautifully without fear.

     Then suddenly, as the cook opened the oven and burned her hand while grabbing the strawberry mince pie, she let out a loud scream and dropped the pie onto the floor. The Gathow bolted out the door without even looking back. Startled by her scream, the White Weewoo flew far away and was unknowingly saved from the clever Gathow, who had not even realised his lunch had escaped.

     Oh, what luck he had!

     However, the Gathow was not intimidated in the slightest. The cook’s scream, which had frightened him away that day, would not stop him from trying again. Now that he knew the Weewoo existed and visited that same window every day, he began spending as much time as possible in the kitchen.

     Ah, the Weewoo had now become his favorite target, and he was certain he would catch him eventually.

     For quite a while, he even stopped chasing the Babaas, who finally enjoyed a little peace and quiet.

     Days went by, and soon the Weewoo’s visits to the window became frequent once more.

     That morning, the breeze was fresh and gentle, and the sun radiated warm, shimmering light. A sweet floral perfume drifted through the pure air. The cook was preparing breakfast. She placed a basket of bread on the table, freshly baked by her own hands, along with a pot of fragrant hot coffee, warm milk, and herbal scrambled eggs in a frying pan. In the fruit bowl there were green grapes, organic peaches, and papayananas, all harvested and grown right there on the farm.

     And of course, what could not be missing from that wonderful scene was the Weewoo, who returned and delicately perched upon the enormous kitchen window. He began singing softly while waiting for the cook’s warm affection.

     The moment she saw him land there, she immediately grabbed a handful of oat crumbs and stretched out her hand so he could eat. The white Weewoo gently pecked at the crumbs in her palm without the slightest fear.

     Ah! What she failed to notice was the Gathow lurking by the doorway, eyes wide open as he secretly watched the scene unfold. Cunning and clever as ever, he quietly circled around the back of the house toward the window, making no sound at all as he tried to catch the Weewoo by surprise.

     When he got close enough, he noticed the cook had left the bird eating alone while she busied herself setting the breakfast table.

     To the Gathow, this was the perfect opportunity. He crouched into position, preparing to leap onto the window, which was made entirely of clear glass and only slightly open that morning. The Weewoo remained distracted, eating peacefully in the tiny opening without noticing the sinister attack approaching him.

     Then, in a single leap, quick as lightning, the Gathow slammed face-first into the glass and tumbled backwards. The startled Weewoo flew away at once, and the cook rushed over to the window to see what had happened. She saw the Gathow running wildly away and could not quite understand what had taken place.

     That Gathow never learns! When will he stop being such a troublemaker?

     After that embarrassing accident, he left the Weewoo alone for quite some time and returned to chasing the Babaas once again. Every day, there was chaos across the farm. He never grew tired of his mischievous games. The poor Babaas never had any peace. The moment they became distracted while peacefully eating grass, the Gathow would scare them terribly, sending them racing down the hills in panic.

     One day, the white Weewoo flew to a blackberry tree heavy with ripe fruit and happily feasted on the blackberries, completely distracted.

     But someone had been watching him closely and was approaching very... very slowly.

     The Weewoo had not noticed the Gathow stealthily climbing the blackberry tree. The bird perched upon a very thin branch that could barely support its own tiny weight. The Gathow had not expected that. Nevertheless, he climbed onto the branch.

     To his surprise, the branch immediately bent downward beneath his weight, throwing him straight to the ground.

     The Weewoo flew up to the top of a nearby tree and sang loudly and beautifully, almost as if he were teasing the black Gathow for losing once again.

     Even today, the Gathow still tries to catch the poor white Weewoo, but every single attempt ends in failure. Yet he never gives up. Perhaps one day he might succeed? It seems very unlikely.

     The Gathow is certainly clever, but the white Weewoo appears to be even cleverer. Whenever danger approaches, he simply flies high into the sky, making it impossible for the Gathow to catch him.

     Hopefully, it will always remain that way, because it would be such a tragedy for the Gathow to devour such a sweet creature with a gentle song and breathtaking beauty. The cook would grow lonely without his morning melodies. Her days would become sad, dull, and empty without the sweet fragrance of flowers completing the beauty of every sunrise in that magical place.

     And so everything remains exactly the same.

     Every day the same routine repeats itself: breakfast lovingly prepared by the cook, the white Weewoo perched upon the kitchen window, the black Gathow lurking nearby trying to catch him, and the Babaas peacefully grazing on their fresh green grass.

     The End.