After viewing a few episodes of Fraggle Rock, I've decided to write my own fanfic of it on here.

Fraggle Rock and it's characters are owned by the brilliant Jim Henson and The Henson Company. The only character I own is Woci Fraggle.


Wembley Fraggle trudged along the barren pathway, venturing into the Fraggle wilderness. He was exceedingly angry that day, especially at Red. At the watering hole she had made fun of him and accused him of being a coward. He just didn't want to swing on the vine; Red thought this was ridiculous. Wembley left after that not only to show her up by exploring the precarious wilderness, but also to think to himself.

"I can't help it if I'm not as adventurous as her," he mumbled to himself, "but I'll show her! I might take on a Gorg or a Poison Cackler or...what am I saying? I can't fight!" The little Fraggle sighed as kept on walking. "Maybe she is right..." His discouragement prolonged his journey, and he kept going farther and farther.

Meanwhile, Mokey had been chiding Red about what she had said to poor little Wembley. Mokey was a patient, kind Fraggle, but now she was very displeased with Red's behavior.

"It's not nice to make fun of other Fraggles, Red," she scolded. "You know that not all of us are as brave as you." Red was lying lazily on a nearby rock, dipping her tail into the water.

"Aww, come on, Mokey," Red laughed. "It wouldn't hurt Wembley to try something new everyone once in a while..." Mokey wasn't convinced, though.

The artistic Fraggle continued, "Well, if Wembley wants to swing on the vine, he can do it at his own pace. You know the old Fraggle saying, don't you?" Red looked at her blankly. " 'You can lead a Fraggle to a radish patch, but you can't make him or her eat.'"

"What does that mean, Mokey?" inquired Red, scratching her head in confusion. "I've never heard that one before."

"It means that you can't force someone to do something they don't want to," explained Mokey, "but that's exactly what you did to Wembley. You pressured him and then made him feel bad by making it seem like a bad thing to not want to do it. Have you ever seen me on the vine?"

Red thought and replied, "Not very often. You always like to paint and make plays and stuff like that. But what does that-"

"Well then shouldn't you call me a coward as well?" Mokey asked. Red thought again for a minute, and then she finally realized what her friend was getting at. She hung her head in shame.

"No, I shouldn't. I guess not everyone who doesn't swing on the vine or doesn't want to is a coward. Gosh, I made poor Wembley feel terrible! But I didn't mean to!" Red sat up and looked down at her feet sadly. Mokey's disposition softened and she sat down next to her friend.

"I hate to lecture you like a mother, and I know you didn't mean to hurt Wembley's feelings," she said softly, "but maybe you should go apologize to him."

"Yeah, I was gonna," Red admitted. "Thanks, Mokey." She got up from the rock and was about to walk to Wembley and Gobbo's when Gobbo himself rushed in, looking worried. "What's wrong, Gobbo?"

"Have you guys seen Wembley?" he questioned, a look of panic in his eyes. Red and Mokey looked at each other curiously before Red replied.

"No, Gobbo, we haven't," she responded. "W-why do you ask?" Red had a bad feeling inside that something had happened.

"I've looked for him everywhere, and I can't find him!" exclaimed Gobbo. "Where could he have gone?" Mokey walked calmly to Gobbo and put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Don't worry, Gobbo," she said with a soft, sad smile. "Wembley probably just went for a walk. He'll be back later." Gobbo cheered up a bit, hoping Mokey was right.


Wembley stopped to take a rest on the path. The more he continued up the path, the rockier it became. The bits and pieces of gravel and rock scraped the bottoms of his feet and made them sore. "I wish I had a pond to put them in," he said wistfully. "The water might make them hurt less." While he rested, Wembley gazed at his surroundings. The color variety was very limited, consisting mainly of browns and grays, with only hints of green from the vegetation. A multitude of different noises coming from the creatures in the trees filled his Fraggle ears (wherever they were) and filled with both curiosity and perhaps a hint of fright. The air was cool and damp, reminding Wembley of the watering hole that had caused so much trouble that morning.

He finished resting and kept walking, unsure of what to do with himself next. Suddenly the unexpected happened.


Not paying attention to his footing, Wembley accidentally tripped over a root. A sharp pain shot up his foot and ankle, and he cried out. "Oh, oh my ankle! OW!" Wembley lied on the rocky path, unable to stand on his hurt ankle. He yelled for help, but nothing happened. "Oh, this is just great! Now I'll be stuck here for who knows how long! Some huge, hideous creature will come and get me for sure!" His eyes welled up with tears. "This is truly an awful morning..." Wembley fell back and sobbed before eventually crying to sleep.

Not long after, a figure strolled through, and stopped at the sight of Wembley. "Wow!" they said. "It's been forever since I've found one of my own kind!" The figure stooped down and examined poor Wembley. "Poor fellow. I better take them with me." They picked up Wembley and returned quickly but carefully back to their home.

Wembley, of course, had no idea what was in store for him...