Image description: A colourful, hand-drawn illustration shows a jungle clearing where all seven Wombles and all seven Care Bears stand facing each other, ready for a friendly showdown. On the left, the Wombles are lined up, each with their own distinct hat and outfit — Great Uncle Bulgaria with his tartan scarf, Orinoco looking slightly sleepy, Tobermory in his workshop gear, Madame Cholet in a chef-style outfit, and the others in bright caps and waistcoats. They appear determined but curious. On the right, the Care Bears stand in a neat row. Tenderheart Bear is at the front with his red heart symbol. The others include Funshine Bear with a sun, Good Luck Bear with a four-leaf clover, Cheer Bear with a rainbow, Grumpy Bear with a rain cloud, Share Bear with lollipops, and Harmony Bear in calming purple. They look cheerful but focused. In the background, green jungle trees and palm leaves surround the clearing under a bright blue sky. Across the top of the image, large yellow and black text reads: THE WOMBLE IN THE JUNGL
Chapter Seven – United We Tidy
The jungle had quieted down.
After six wild rounds of dancing, cleaning, cooking, and arguing, the clearing was still. Even the parrots whispered from their perches. The vines swayed gently, the flowers blinked open, and the last few cupcake wrappers fluttered to the ground like tiny surrender flags.
It was time for the final one-on-one round.
Wellington stepped into the clearing, a bit shy, a bit serious, and very prepared. He wore oversized glasses held together with twine and a recycled paperclip, and carried a rucksack full of carefully folded maps, data scrolls, and a solar-powered notebook.
Across from him, Harmony Bear floated in with the breeze, her lavender fur soft as a cloud. She wore a badge showing a flower surrounded by musical notes and peace signs. She didn’t speak at first. She simply smiled.
Wellington blinked. “Um… hello.”
“Hello,” said Harmony Bear softly. “I thought we might work… together.”
The parrots didn’t even squawk. They just raised one feather each, nodded slowly, and whispered, “Round Seven.”
There was no rush, no fanfare. Just the sound of Harmony’s calming hum as she walked the edge of the clearing, picking up bits of tangled string and placing them into a handmade pouch.
Wellington followed quietly behind, scanning the undergrowth for microplastics with his homemade detector — a jam jar full of static and a magnetised button.
Neither of them said much, but somehow, everything got done.
They cleared the creek with bamboo tongs.
They rewove fallen vines into nesting baskets.
They even rescued a beetle trapped inside a jam jar labelled “emergency raisins”.
At one point, Wellington hesitated. “Can I ask something?”
“Of course,” said Harmony Bear.
“Why didn’t we fight? Or argue? Or… I don’t know… sparkle loudly?”
Harmony knelt by a wild orchid. “Because sometimes the kindest voices are the quietest.”
Wellington thought about that. Then nodded. “I keep a list of quotes in my sock. I’m adding that one.”
They worked in rhythm — not rushed, not flashy, just gentle and careful. And by the time the round ended, the clearing looked different. Not just clean, but calm. Peaceful. Balanced.
As they shook paws, a group of jungle animals lit small lanterns made from recycled fruit shells and sang a soft thank-you song.
Harmony Bear beamed. “You’re brilliant, Wellington.”
Wellington blushed. “You’re… really nice, actually.”
They stood side by side, watching the fireflies drift through the dusk.
The showdown was almost over.
But something big was coming.
Blind Man Makes 