Glurg, Glurg. GLURG!

Glurg, Glurg, Glurg

In the long days of wandering without direction, Glurg found himself.

Yes. Glurg was there in the sticky, dripping mango juice. He was there in the loneliness of the afternoon heat. He was there in the crowded forest. He was there in the silence of the full moon and in the babbling of the brook. It was all Glurg. He was home.

"All who wander are not lost."