Louie backed away from the straw wall of his house. It sounded as if the forest had erupted outside of his home, the sound of breaking sticks, crashes, and growls creeping through the crevices. Why had he built his house out of straw? His sister, Penny, had told him it was ludicrous, but it’d been quick and cheap, and he hadn’t wanted to spend ages building something just to keep the rain off his head.
Something heavy thudded against the door.
“Little pig, little pig, let me come in.” The wolf sounded frantic, enraged by hunger.
Louie’s heart galloped as he pranced in the center of the floor. Air squeaked past his throat, whispering “No.”
Straw and dirt rained from the ceiling, stinging his eyes as the wolf pounded at the door.
“Little pig, little pig, let me come in!”
Louie heard the wolf huffing and puffing, and both walls and pig trembled, but he managed to say “No.”
A roar of frustration answered him. As the walls tumbled down, Louie caught one look of the wolf—eyes bulging, claws and teeth destroying everything in their path—before he turned and ran straight for his brother’s house.