It was a quiet day in the
picturesque Pennine village of Wolsingham....

The sun shone across the valley
above the village.....

As the tumultuous chattering of
Horsley Burn mingled with the sounds of blackbirds singing, and
the air was heavy with the pungent smell of wild garlic, young
trout flitted around the riffles and pools of the nascent stream.
Life was good...

.....Until a mysterious tusk
force went out on manoeuvres......

.... practising their elite
ungulate skills.......

Suddenly.. The Terror Had
Returned....

Who was this mysterious furry man, known only as Flembo? And why were the tusk force seen wading around in the stream with buckets and nets?
ITWSBT....