Although the smell was truly mouth-watering, Frank knew he couldn’t be late for the un-birthday party. The Mad Hatter, Bill, was a good friend, but he was prone to temper-tantrums if people were late for un-birthday parties. Bill took them very seriously. “Whoever gets to eat whatever that is sure is lucky,” Frank thought.
He forced himself to keep going, humming to pass the time. Frank was just about to the other side of the woods and nearing Bill’s place when a hand darted out of a bush and grabbed his ankle, pulling him down. “Eeeek!” Frank squealed as he hit the dirt with a thud.
“Shhh!” said a little girl in a large red cloak. “He’ll hear you,” she said looking behind her even though they were deep in a bush.
“Who is ‘he’ and who are you?” asked Frank.
“’He is a wolf named Richard, and I am Myrtle,” the girl said as she pushed large circular glasses up onto her nose. The lenses magnified her wide, blue eyes.
“So, why did you grab me and pull me in here with you?” Frank asked.
“Because I’m scared,” Myrtle said. “You don’t know Richard. He seems very nice, but I don’t trust him. I think he might even be following me on my way to my grandmother’s house.”
“So what do you expect me to do about it? I’m a cat. Don’t you think he would be more interested in eating, I mean meeting, me than you?” Frank said.
“Fine, I can see you, you don’t want, want to help me,” Myrtle stuttered as she started to cry. “You can just leave me alone and be, be on your way. I’ll f-figure out a way to f-fend off this big, b-bad wolf all by myself.” Myrtle sobbed into her hands.