The Wobblefolk story
Inside a closed sketchbook, there is a tiny village.
Turn the page
The Sketchbook Village
On cream paper, where faint grid lines run like little roads, live some very small people. They call each other Wobblefolk. Their ink bodies never quite dry, so even standing still, they wobble a little.
A drop of ink
Whenever someone out there wishes for a new friend, a single drop of ink falls from the village sky. It soaks into the paper, puffs up like a bean, and after a while, it blinks. That is how a new neighbor is born.
Number day
The first to say hello to a newcomer is always Wobby. Rubbing those sleepy eyes, Wobby pins on a tiny number tag: No.3, No.777, No.2026… Once given, a number never changes, not even when the paper wears thin.
Marker Hills and the pencil-cup closet
At the edge of the village are the Marker Hills, colored coral, mint and yellow. Wobblefolk love having their pictures taken in front of them. The pencil-cup closet is stuffed with knits, overalls and frog hats, so every morning takes a while.
Tiny voices
Wobblefolk have a lot to say, but their voices are very, very small. Only when someone writes their words in a speech bubble can they be heard outside the page.
When the sketchbook closes
When the sketchbook closes, night falls on the village. Everyone curls up between the grid lines to sleep, except Wobby, who keeps watch at the corner of the page all night. No wonder Wobby always looks sleepy.
Wobby, keeper of the village
Welcome in, mind the grid lines.
No.0 of the Sketchbook Village, born from the very first drop of ink. A bean-shaped body and a single strand of hair on top. It sways even when there is no wind, so you can spot Wobby from the far side of the page.
Neighbors
Names come from the one who meets them
Wobby hands out the numbers, but nobody in the village can give out names. They say only the one who meets a folk first, and calls out to them, can do that. Somewhere on the page, a neighbor without a name is still waiting.
Tonight, too, a drop of ink will fall from the village sky. Plip.