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This is the home of the wombles
Wellington has been busy back home lately, working on new methods of food production. But tonight, he's on kitchen duty in the bar, preparing vegetables and dishing out vegetarian food.

He had quite a lot of potatoes from one of his experiments (nothing magicky or dangerous, of course), so he gets a stepladder and goes to the food specials board. He wipes off the dust, and writes:

Food specials

Orange, potato and rocket salad
Potato salad and roasted red peppers
Potato cakes

He doesn't know if there'll be any takers, but they can't let all those potatoes go to waste. He potters between the bar and the kitchen, bringing out salad as needed.

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There might be a little boy, eying those potato cakes of yours.

Smells good. Real good.

"Hallo." Wellington says shyly. "Would you like some?"

"'Ello." Pause. "Yes please!"

He goes to sit down like a god, well-mannered little boy.

"Which one would you like?" Wellington asks.

He points at the cakes.

"I'd like those please."

Wellington gets him a nice big plate of potato cakes.

"There you go."

Then, he cleans a glass, because that seems like the right thing to do when serving food.

Meanwhile, someone is making it clear that he likes Wellington's food very much.

"'S good."

"Oh good, I'm always a bit nervous cooking for Human Beings, because we eat lots of things they don't, but I got the recipes from a book so I know none of the ingredients are going to upset people's tummies." Wellington says.

Rubbing his belly as he smiles, "No. Tummy's all fine."

"Oh good." Wellington smiles shyly. "You're quite a little human being, how old are you? Twenty?"

Wombles age slowly.

Rabastan thinks Wellington is funny.

"No I'm six! But mama says I'll be seven soon."

"Oh! When Wombles are six, they're still the size of bunnies." Wellington says.

"I'm bigger than a bunny!"

Stating it because it's the obvious.

"Wum— Wom— Wommmm-bullll." He tries it out. Funny word. "What's that?"

"I'm a Womble." Wellington says.

"But you mustn't tell anyone at home. In case we get hunted."

Surprisingly, that answer works.

"People hurt wombles?" Then he thinks of his brother. Rodolphus certainly would. "'Kay. Won't tell."

But he'll look for them at home. Wombles are cute, and they might be good friends.

"They might if they knew about us. They might hunt us for our fur, or put us in the zoo." Wellington says seriously.

Poor Rabastan looks suitably upset. He doesn't want Wellington to be turned into a coat!

"That's not nice!" he says emphatically. "You're nice."

And your food's good too.

"Thank you." Wellington gets him more food.

"When I first arrived here, I was very afraid of Human Beings, but apart from one who threatened to hunt for us at home, people have been kind. At home, we aren't allowed to talk to or be seen by Human Beings."

More food! Yay!

"You can talk to me—I won't put you in a zoo."

"Thank you." Wellington says again. "I'm Wellington, what's your name?"

"Wellington. Like the boots?"

Then, emphatically, with a grin.

"I'm Rabastan!"

"Like the place." Wellington says. "We pick our own names out the atlas."

Aww he was really hoping it was the boots. Wellies are fun!

"An I was named after a star!"

He's very proud of that.

"Oh, which constellation are you in?" Wellington asks.

He's the librarian back home.

"Mama says it's in Draco."

"Is your mama or another grown up Human Being here with you?" Wellington asks.

"Wombles don't have mamas." he adds. "We live in the Womblegarten until we come of age."

He looks about. There's lots of grown-ups here, but mama isn't with them.

Will he be in trouble?

"She's not here— You don't have a mother? Do you have a father?"

Gosh how sad.

Wellington shakes his head.

"None of us do. Or if we do, we don't know who they are. But we have Great Uncle Bulgaria and the other older Wombles to take care of us. When we're little, our teacher looks after us."

"No mama no papa?"

So sad! Everyone should have parents!

"I'd be sad without mine. My uncles live far away."

"I never really knew them." Wellington says. "I asked Great Uncle Bulgaria where I came from, but he said young Wombles shouldn't ask so many questions.

The reproductive habit of Wombles is never explained in canon. The mun's mother has so far come up with the best answer, that they build them from scrap.

Cobble-babies!

"You can meet mine?" Pause. "They won't put you in a zoo either."

"What's it like, having a mum and dad?" Wellington asks. "What do they do?"

"They look after us. By giving us things to wear and eat and sometimes they give you baths."

Like every kid it seems he's not wild about the last one.

"Oh yes, we do that too." Wellington chuckles.

"Grown-ups always make you take baths. Or naps."

All in the job description.

"Well, better than being tired or smelly." Wellington says.

Better, but not much fun.

"Mama does give me a snack before bed."

That's good.

"We have that too, though we go to bed in the morning." Wellington says. "We're most active at dawn and dusk."

Rabastan's look is an odd one.

"I'm up at night sometimes. Mama doesn't like that."

Soon she'll like it even less—it's about this age that Rabastan's habit of roaming about the house [and then the grounds outside at night] began.

"Do you sleepwalk?" Wellington asks.

[OOC: I'm so throwing Pinkie at Wellington next time he's in-bar!]

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