A:N / Thanks for clicking in, folks! This story is a mild-AU retelling of the events of the show Amphibia, but with the twist mentioned in the summary snippet: "what if the denizens of Amphibia, a complete alternate dimension inhabited primarily by sapient bipedal amphibians which also has magic and very inconsistent levels of technological advancement (explained in-universe, I know), DIDN'T happen to speak perfect English?". (WARNING: bit of a mild rant incoming, feel free to skip to the beginning of the actual story if you prefer not to read the ramblings of a stranger.)
A week ago at the time of writing, this show - this beautiful, wonderful show - has recently aired its series finale on 05/14/2022. It hit me hard. This story, these characters, came into my life during a very difficult transitional time for me (the pandemic, moving, transitioning between jobs, all sorts of stress). And watching Anne and her friends and her wonderful adoptive frog family played a huge part in keeping me sane during that time. Then, after I was able to get settled down, I kept watching. This show kept evolving. It became something so much more than a silly little show about a girl stuck in a world of talking frogs. It told a wonderful story that made me laugh and cry.
And now, it's over. No more new episodes. It had its ups and downs, but the long and happy journey has hit its bittersweet conclusion. I wasn't ready, guys. A big part of why this fic exists is to help me fill the gaping void left behind in my heart. Another part of it, though, is to address and put to metaphorical paper an idea that's been sitting in my mind since I first watched the first episode of this series back in early 2020.
Real talk for a moment. I have a bit of a bone to pick. Not to gripe on the show - which is fantastic, obviously - but the idea of traveling to an alternate universe or alien world inhabited by people of wholly different history (and in this case, physiology) and discovering that they just so happen to inexplicably speak the exact same language as you, is a massive pet peeve of mine. It happens in 'sent-to-another-world' type stories extremely often, and the odds of something like that actually occurring are astronomically low - probably even lower than the chances of getting magically transported to another world in the first place! Just think of how many different languages we have on Earth, all spoken by members of the same species! Amphibia may have plenty of cultural similarities to Earth, but the idea that a race of amphibians developed the same primary language and way of speaking as humans is a bit far-fetched for me.
I know that I'm waaay overthinking this, and I understand why the show's writers went this route, of course: there's only so much runtime, after all, and having the show's main protagonist be completely incapable of understanding the supporting cast for the formative part of the series would have been a huge time sink for not much payoff. Besides, the cultural and physiological differences between the show's humans and their amphibious friends/families made for plenty of hijinks on their own. But I still can't help asking that question of 'what-if', you know?
So here we are. I don't know if it's been done before (probably has), and I'm too much of a lazy goober to check. Either way, this fic is mostly a thought experiment, as well as a means to help me get some practical experience and improve my writing, AND, as I said before, as a way to help me fill the gaping void left behind in my heart by this (I think) absolutely stellar masterpiece of a show. While I'm at it, I'll also be doing some rewrites of the earlier parts of the show. Don't be alarmed: while I will be adding my own narrative flair to different scenes we know from the show, for the most part I'll just be touching them up a bit. Add a little dialogue here, a touch of extra worldbuilding or exposition there. You know, stuff that the writers probably could have included but didn't have time for with most individual episodes having to fit in a 12-14 minute time slot. But that's what fanfiction is for, baby. Fair warning, I'm a very wordy writer, something I'm sure that will quickly become apparent. I'm also a bit more of a realism writer myself, so even though I won't be doing away with the silly cartoon aspects of this show's writing (I love those parts, I could never), expect a slightly more… I guess gritty tone? I like to focus a lot on the mental aspects and thought processes of characters. I'm sure it'll all make sense when you read the chapter itself, assuming you haven't been scared off yet.
If you've stuck with my ramblings this far, then congratulations, you now have slightly more context than you would have had otherwise, and probably didn't even need anyways! But regardless, thank you for indulging my long winding rambling foreword, and I hope you enjoy the story!
It all began on an evening much like any other in Amphibia's Frog Valley. The early night sky was clear and starry, not a cloud in sight. The western horizon was dimly illuminated by the faint, slowly fading orange glow of the sun, while the red crescent moon hung low over the mountaintops surrounding the valley. As usual, the weather was warm and humid, with nary a breeze to disturb the land below. Instead, the air was filled with the usual sounds of nighttime: crickets chirping, flies buzzing, and the occasional carnivorous beast roaring or growling somewhere in the distance. Tall moss-covered trees as well as other, equally massive leafy plants covered the landscape, dotted throughout with the gentle glow of fluorescent mushrooms.
Nothing at all out of ordinary for the denizens of Wartwood Swamp, a rural settlement located centrally within the valley. While most had closed down their businesses and retired to their homes at this hour of the evening, the same was not true of Stumpy's Diner: a ramshackle building on the edge of town, built into the interior of what appeared to be a piece of a massive fallen tree trunk, covered in moss, lichens, and partly-submerged in the waters of the murky swamp that the town was built over. Such conditions would have been off-putting, were the inhabitants of this humble village themselves not amphibious and frog-like in nature. Two such frogs, dressed in simple worker's clothing, were sat at a table just outside the entrance of the diner, having just got off their shift and enjoying late night drinks before heading home. The sounds of the fauna and wildlife in the surrounding forest served as decent enough backdrop to the scene, though it was admittedly hard to hear such sounds over the loud banjos and other string-based instruments being played inside of the diner, only slightly muted due to the building's paneless windows and saloon-style doors. It was near the end of the dinner rush, and even if Stumpy's (both the frog and the diner) reputation had sagged in recent years, it still did the job of feeding those who got off work late or were simply too lazy to make food for themselves at this hour.
The two frogs outside of the diner were engaged in pleasant conversation with one another, when suddenly the saloon doors swung open, revealing a frog with bright turquoise skin exiting the establishment. This frog, however, was dressed in a noticeably shoddier fashion than his fellows, donning the same simple black worker shorts as the two seated at the table along with a torn vest, a haphazardly stitched-together orange scarf, two ripped-up gloves missing their fingers over his hands, two brown shoes - one of which was missing its entire front half, revealing the webbed two-toed foot within - as well as worn, flat, broad-brimmed hat with a red cattail reed sticking out of it. The third frog's most noticeable feature, however, was his eyes, the left of which was swollen shut - apparently perpetually so - while the right was wide open and yellow like the yolk of an egg.
"G'night, you frogs!" the turquoise frog called over his shoulder in a jolly, hiccupping voice, before leaping the few feet from the doorway to the unevenly-spaced stone pathway leading to and from the establishment. "See you in the morrow!" he said while waving to the two frogs seated nearby, who only watched him go with blank unamusement. Their expressions quickly changed, however, when the turquoise frog, wobbling a bit in his slight drunken-stupor, accidentally bumped into a barrel due to not watching where he was going. "Oi!" he exclaimed as the barrel and the jug sitting atop it both fell over and rolled next to the doors, all while the two frogs watching began laughing at his expense. The turquoise frog didn't seem to mind this though, chuckling good-naturedly to himself as he stumbled back toward town, and then, onto the path to his home outside of the town proper.
Walking down a dark forest path late at night, surrounded by towering trees that could be hiding all manner of beasts and predators, the path lit only by the light given off by nearby mushrooms, would have been considered terrifying to most. However, the shoddily-dressed frog strolled down the dirt path while humming happily to himself, as though he had done this hundreds of times. Which, in fact, he had. His home wasn't too terribly far from the rest of town, and he'd walked this path enough times to know that nothing truly dangerous dwelled this close to Wartwood.
Usually. Allegedly. Most of the time he made it home long before the sun set, but he would be fine so long as he didn't stray off the path or stay out past midnight. Supposedly.
At some point during the walk, the frog pulled out a small accordion from inside of his vest and began playing it absentmindedly while continuing to hum and croak happily as he made his way home. All the while he managed to ignore the watching eyes of the nocturnal birds perched atop the branches and the hidden insects crawling along the tree trunks.
His cheer was cut short, however, by the very sudden, and very loud rustling of a nearby patch of bushes, along with what sounded like the snapping of a large branch. Instantly, the frog froze mid-step, his hum dying in his throat. His one good eye, previously half-closed and drooping from sleepiness, was now once again wide and alert. A moment of silence passed.
"H-hello?" he called out hesitantly as he slowly looked in the direction the sound came from. Off the path, the woods appeared dark, gloomy, and foreboding, with thin layers of mist preventing one from seeing too far in. Whatever had made that noise, however, was nowhere to be seen… not that it would have been difficult for even a large creature to hide in these woods, especially at night.
Several more moments passed, with the frog watching intently for any signs of movement. One second... five seconds... ten. The air was once more filled only with the sounds of bugs and insects, no more disturbances to the foliage.
Thinking that perhaps he'd simply had one too many drinks, the frog was about to sigh with relief… until he heard what sounded like rapid footsteps behind him. Gasping in fright, he spun around, and just barely caught sight of what appeared to be a tall shadow moving through the trees before disappearing.
"Whuzzat? Who's there?!" he half-cried, half-whispered as a feeling of dread began to settle in his gut, and he held his accordion close to his chest. He knew he shouldn't have stayed out so late, not with his long walk home. Now someone, or something, was out here with him. Watching him. Stalking him. He briefly considered breaking out into a hopping sprint back home, but for all he knew that would just provoke it. And it was probably much faster than him; most predators tended to be. Instead, whimpering to himself in fear, he slowly backed up toward the opposite side of the path from where he saw the shadow, casting his gaze frantically left and right in an effort to locate the creature before it got the drop on him.
He was completely unaware as the same figure emerged slowly from the bushes behind him. Unaware, that was, until he noticed the light cast from the nearby mushrooms disappearing around him as he became cast within a large shadow. Audibly gulping and shaking with barely-contained fright, the frog slowly turned around… and there, looming over him, was the shadow-wrapped silhouette of a tall and thin creature, its eyes practically glowing white against the rest of its darkened form.
"AH!" the frog gasped, inadvertently pulling and almost dropping his accordion in shock. He tried to move his legs, but they were frozen in place. The creature made some kind of noise at him, something between grunting, whooping, and slight hissing. It sounded vaguely familiar, yet at the same time thoroughly alien, not to mention terrifying. "No no no, stay back!" the frog cried, trying again to move his legs, and this time succeeding only in taking a single quivering step back. Eye locked onto the creature, he saw it extend one of its gangly, stick-thin limbs toward him. "No, no!" he cried again, finally managing to scrabble backward. As he turned to run away however, he felt the beast's claw latch onto his arm in a powerful death-grip. Try as he might, he couldn't wriggle free, or even make the creature budge.
The monster leered down at him and opened its mouth again, more grunts and hisses emerging from the ugly maw as it leaned toward him.
He couldn't help it. In fear, he closed his only remaining good eye, and cried out in terror into the empty night.
"NOOOOOOOOOO!"
The following day, all was calm and peaceful in Wartwood, no one suspecting anything out of the ordinary. The noon bell rang on schedule to let all of the town's amphibian residents know the hour as they went about their normal daily lives.
At a stand near the market square, a wrinkled frog in stained work clothes watched as a large and wart-covered butcher brought his cleaver down onto the still-wriggling body of a green centipede, bisecting it cleanly in two. Immediately following the slice, the front half of the centipede which wasn't being held down screeched and shot forward, scuttling off the stand and into the street, where it startled a passing frog before climbing up a nearby house and in through a window.
Elsewhere, at the small fountain located in the town square, a couple consisting of a male and female frog sat together on the fountain's stone railing, holding each other's hands and leaning toward each other to exchange a kiss, only to be rudely interrupted as a massive dragonfly casually swooped down from overhead, grabbed onto the male, and simply carried him off, causing him to yell in fright as his date opened her eyes and looked around in confusion. Despite one of the townsfolk being abducted by a wild animal in broad daylight, none of the other townsfolk seemed to pay it much mind - perhaps because the dragonfly was harmless, or perhaps because such abductions were so commonplace that there was little point in getting excited about them. Either way, the frog was carried off into the air as the various townsfolk went about their lives. Some were closing shop for their lunch break, while others were in the middle of their daily shopping runs, while still others lounged about, enjoying the fine weather, or spent the afternoon playing in the streets in the case of children.
No one in town paid much mind as a wooden cart pulled by a large purple snail appeared from one of the paths leading out of town, upon which sat three more frogs. The first, sitting at the reigns of the cart, was an elderly frog gentleman with reddish-orange skin, thin patches of balding white hair on the sides of his head, and an abundance of wrinkles. The elderly frog wore a good-looking, yet obviously well-worn ensemble of a grayish-green waistcoat, a buttoned yellow undershirt, a light blue ascot, and grayish-brown trousers, complete with open-sided brown socks which left the fronts and rears of his feet uncovered.
The second, sitting in the back of the cart, was a frog slightly shorter than the first, with hot pink skin and a paler pink underbelly. This frog, bouncing excitedly in the cart, wore a dark forest green hat with gold-colored buttons which fully covered the top and back of his head, along with light green goggles atop the brim of the hat and a sleeveless light green jacket paired with simple black shorts. Finally, the third figure, also in the rear of the cart, was the smallest of the three. Lacking legs and with only small flippers for arms, this one was a small, almost spherical, purple-skinned pollywog who's only clothing was a yellow-and-white polka dot bow adorning the top of her head. So small was the little one that rather than sitting normally, she was instead positioned within a wooden bucket filled with water and reinforced by a cylindrical iron frame, one which had seen a fair amount of use if its stained appearance was anything to go by.
"Whoa, whoa there girl," the elderly frog said to the snail pulling the cart as he tugged gently on the reins, slowly bringing the cart to a stop in front of the Grub n' Go store near the town square. Once the sound of gravel grinding beneath the cart's wooden wheels ceased and the snail trilled once as confirmation, he smiled and turned around to look at the cart's other two occupants. "All right kids, I'm gonna do a little shoppin'. You watch the cart," he instructed, specifically looking at one of the children.
Not that that stopped the other one. "You got it, Hop Pop! I'll defend this cart with my LIIIIIIFE!" yelled the pink-skinned frog boy, jumping excitedly onto the edge of the cart and pounding his chest with enthusiasm.
The elderly frog referred to as Hop Pop leaned back slightly from the outburst, only to narrow his eyes in exasperation. "Sprig, I was talkin' to Polly," he replied, gesturing to the third occupant of the cart in question. The boy named Sprig looked down at the smiling Polly, still in her bucket and with her tail poking out slightly behind her, and looked back at Hop Pop.
"What?" he laughed in disbelief. "Polly can't watch the cart, she's a baby!"
Incensed by this dismissal, Polly pointed at him and shouted in response, "You're a baby!"
"Baby or not, Polly's got more responsibility in her little flipper than you have in your entire body!" Hop Pop said sternly, pointing at Sprig with his eyes narrowing further.
"Ridiculous!" Sprig objected, throwing up his arms. "What makes you think I'm irresponsible?"
"Oh, gee, let me think," Hop Pop said sarcastically while putting a hand up to his chin and casting his gaze upward, pretending to ponder for an example. Even with his memory not being quite so good in recent years, he'd have to be downright senile to not remember the most recent examples of Sprig's carelessness.
~o~O~o~
Back home in the kitchen of the family's humble farmhouse, Hop Pop had been preparing lunch for the day, carefully chopping vegetables for the stew while his grandson Sprig, unbeknownst to him, had snuck into the kitchen despite the older frog's clear instructions to stay out while he was cooking. While Hop Pop's back was turned, Sprig popped open the lid on the pot containing the broth and sprinkled in a small amount of 'spices' he'd obtained at the market earlier that week.
The result was an explosion. Within seconds of the black flecks hitting the bubbling surface of the liquid, the entire contents of the pot erupted so violently that the stone overhang above the stove was completely shattered. Green bug broth splattered all over the wall, the floor, and Sprig himself, who just barely managed to pull back in time to avoid losing his hand to the blast, though not quickly enough to avoid being singed by the sudden wave of heat.
Hop Pop immediately stopped chopping vegetables and looked over his shoulder at the mess behind him, meeting Sprig's eyes. "...oops," was all the young frog said, before the lid of the stirring pot fell back down and landed on his head with a resounding THWANG.
~o~O~o~
Later, Hop Pop was peacefully in the middle of his midday nap, dreaming of a bountiful and prosperous harvest, when the wall to his room suddenly started to crack. Stirred by the unusual noise, Hop Pop only just barely managed to open his eyes when the wall abruptly shattered inward. Crashing through the new hole was one of the farm's cowapillars, atop which sat none other than Sprig, clutching the animal's head in a clear, yet failing, attempt to ride the beast. The cowapillar wailed in a mixture of fear and fury. Sprig and Hop Pop also both wailed… mostly just in fear.
~o~O~o~
Later still, as the sun set for the day and the red moon rose overhead, the tranquil night was broken by shouts from the farmhouse.
"SPRIG, what did I tell you about leaving the dang lights on at night?!" came Hop Pop's voice.
"Sorry Hop Pop, I'll-" was all that Sprig was able to yell back before a massive impact shook the house. Outside, two gigantic colossal-fireflies, attracted by the lights in the dark evening, began repeatedly bumping into the house, causing all three of its occupants to start screaming in terror.
~o~O~o~
"...okay. So yesterday was a bad day," Sprig shrugged nervously in an attempt to dismiss the several examples he'd just been given, all of which had occurred less than twenty-four hours prior.
Hop Pop, eyes still narrowed, only hummed out a simple "Mm-hmm," before grunting and hopping onto the ground. "Polly, be a good girl and make sure Sprig stays in the cart," he called back, giving the frog boy in question another stern look, before turning and immediately replacing his irked expression with a pleasant one. "Well, how do ya do, Mrs. Jonkins?" he said as he waved cheerfully at the store owner and entered the building.
Back on the cart, the two children watched him move out of sight, Polly with a satisfied smirk and Sprig with an utterly blank expression. It wasn't long though before Sprig's face fell as he let out a defeated sigh, in turn causing Polly's expression to falter. "Dang it… wish there was a way to prove I'm not such a goof-up…" the young boy muttered sullenly, resting his head in one hand and letting the other drape off the side of the cart.
In spite of herself, Polly couldn't help but frown at the sight of her brother looking so down in the dumps. After a few moments of thinking, she got an idea. But just as she was about to open her mouth to suggest they play a few rounds of I Spy…
"...aaaaaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!"
Both children's attention were drawn by the sound of screaming coming from the forest just outside of town, and getting closer and closer with each passing second. Others around them evidently noticed the sound as well, as one by one everyone in the town square stopped what they were doing and looked toward the source of the noise.
They didn't have to wait long. The screaming persisted until its source came barreling through the reeds and tall grass growing beyond the village. That source was none other than One-Eyed Wally, the town's very own resident kook, vagrant, and self-proclaimed wandering bard - a turquoise-skinned frog with one bad eye, terrible fashion sense, and a penchant for playing the accordion. To say that this was the first time anyone had seen Wally come running into town screaming and flailing his arms like a maniac would have been a dirty lie, and some of the nearby townsfolk simply rolled their eyes and continued to go about their business once they saw who it was. But there was something different about it this time, as the more perceptive of those watching quickly noticed. Something which was confirmed when Wally stopped just inside the town square, bent over panting and gasping for breath.
This time, One-Eyed Wally looked truly, genuinely terrified.
"M…mon…MONSTER!" Wally shouted at the top of his lungs as soon as he could get air back into them, waving his arms around as well. "Monster! Th-there's a monster in the woods! I seen it! I seen it!"
Sprig and Polly watched as, very quickly, the nearby townsfolk began to gather around the screaming frog in order to see what the commotion was. Among them was one particular figure who stood a full head and shoulders taller than the rest, easily standing out in the crowd. This frog - or rather, toad - was the town's own Mayor Toadstool, an immaculately-dressed toad wearing a maroon jacket with gold designs over a white undershirt, along with a lilac cravat, puffy pants, and dark shoes. Well-kempt for a toad, at least compared to the other ones Sprig had seen during tax collecting days, though he knew that Hop Pop didn't seem to like the mayor very much. Something about him being a 'bamboozlin'', 'money-launderin'', 'no-good corrupt politician'… whatever that meant.
Pushing his way forward to stand at the front of the assembled crowd, the mayor raised his voice as he addressed Wally loud enough for everyone to hear. "Simmer down, Wally. No need to make a scene. Now what is it this time?" he asked, barely containing the exasperation in his voice.
"A monster! I saw a terrible, terrible monster!" Wally replied, either not noticing the tone the Mayor was using to address him, or simply not caring. The town's reaction was a mix of mild concern and barely-contained skepticism.
"Uh huh," Toadstool replied, clearly in the latter camp. "And, pray tell, what did this 'monster' look like?"
"Oh, it was horrifyin'!" Wally exclaimed, getting on his knees and grabbing every nearby leaf, stick, pebble and loose root he could find as he quickly started putting together a visual representation of what he saw. "It had a huge hairy head, a weird, stubby bump right in the middle of its face, oh and worst of all, it had these long, spindly limbs!"
As Wally completed his visual aid of the creature he was describing and took a step back so everyone could see, an audible gasp of horror shot through the crowd. "Obscene!" someone in the crowd called out. Wally took that as a cue to continue, launching into his storytelling mode.
"I was makin' my way back home late last night after I spent the evenin' at Stumpy's, see? Walkin' along, hummin' and playin' my accordion, as I do." As if to demonstrate, Wally pulled out said accordion and began playing it, either as a coping mechanism or as a way to add atmosphere to the story. "All was fine an' dandy, at first. But then I heard noises, somethin' rustlin' through the bushes in the dark. Somethin' big. I could hear it snappin' through branches like they were nothin'! And it was fast too! Every time I heard it move, by the time I turned to look, it was gone! I only caught a glimpse of it! I was scared out me wits, lookin' left and right. That's when I heard it, right behind me. I turned, and I saw it! It was the most terrifyin' thing I've ever seen! It was gruntin' and snarlin' and making all kinds of awful noises! I was frozen stiff, and the beast reached out with one of its spindly arms, and grabbed me! It was gonna eat me, it was!"
"How'd you escape?" asked the excited voice of a young girl, one who's voice Sprig would have recognized anywhere. Sure enough, upon following the voice, he saw a yellow-skinned frog wearing dress-overalls standing near the front of the crowd, with two tufts of orange hair poking out from beneath a dark blue patch hat.
"Oh, I'll tell ya how I escaped, lass! I got plum lucky, that's how!" Wally played a series of abrupt notes on his accordion before continuing. "The beast had me by the arm, mouth open, about to chomp down on me, and I was screamin' for me life! I thought it was the end of ol' Wally for sure, but then out of nowhere, a dragonfly flew out from the brush, right into the monster's face! Suddenly it started screechin' and hollerin', and then it up and let go of me! I didn't waste no time, no sirree, I got out of there faster than a lightnin' snail at the derby. I swear, I never hopped so fast in me life!"
The crowd descended into murmurs again, but this time a different voice spoke up over everyone else, one belonging to an old frog - older than even Hop Pop, supposedly. "Hold on just a second now, Wally," said a dull purple frog with a padding of white hair and a cataract in her left eye, who Sprig recognized as Ms. Croaker, the town's local dairy farmer. "You said this all happened last night? If that's true, then how come you waited till now to come and warn us about it? It's past noon!"
"Oh, I was just gettin' to that, I was," Wally answered. "See, while I was hoppin' away, I was lookin' over me shoulder to make sure the beast weren't chasin' after me. I didn't see it followin', but I wasn't lookin' where I was goin', and I must've tripped. I tumbled off the road into a ditch, and I hit me head on a rock! Conked me right out, it did!" To demonstrate, Wally slightly lifted the front of his hat, briefly revealing the dark turquoise hair he had underneath. More to the point, however, he revealed a large welt on his forehead, marking where he'd supposedly injured himself. Lowering the hat again, he continued, "I didn't wake up until just a little while ago, but once I did, you better believe I came runnin' straight here!"
"So let me get this straight," came yet another, much more refined voice, this one belonging to another female yellow-skinned frog at the front of the crowd standing next to the first. Although this one was much taller, more mature and had a head of long, braided red hair. Felicia Sundew, owner of the town's tea shop. "You're telling us that you stayed at Stumpy's until late at night, went walking home in the dark, tripped into a ditch, knocked yourself out, and slept there until noon? Honey, it sounds to me like you probably just drank too much and dreamt this whole thing up."
A rising murmur of general agreement spread through the crowd in the wake of this statement, with some townsfolk even turning to leave and continue their business for the day, assuming Wally had just had another one of his crazy episodes. But that wasn't the end of it.
"Oh-ho, that's what I thought at first too, luv!" Wally said to Felicia, not a trace of merriment in his eye. "But then I found proof that I didn't dream it! I've got it right here, see for yourself!"
In a single movement, Wally put his accordion back inside his vest and grabbed the glove on his right arm, pulling it off and revealing the hand and forearm underneath, holding it up for all to see. Once again, a gasp spread through the crowd.
Discoloring Wally's forearm was a large dark bruise, several shades darker than his normal skin tone. But it wasn't just any bruise - this one was shaped in the distinct, unmistakable form of a hand, unlike any handprint anyone watching had seen before. It had five whole fingers, for starters, and it was much bigger than any frog's hand, circling fully and easily around Wally's whole arm.
"I remember clear as day! This here is where the monster grabbed me, with its dry, thin, bony claws!" Wally exclaimed. "Its grip was stronger than a toad's, I'd warrant. It could've pulled me arm clean off if it wanted!"
The crowd began murmuring again, but now the murmurs carried worried and frightened tones. Sprig overheard a few snippets, including one young frog around his age asking his father "Is there really a monster?", and another saying to the frog next to him "I've never seen a monster with claws like that before!". And still more whispers besides.
"What should we do?"
"It sounds awful!"
"Is it coming to eat us?"
"We're all gonna die!"
"Now now, simmer down everyone, simmer down! There's no need to panic!" yelled Mayor Toadstool over the din of the crowd, raising his arms up and clapping until everyone stopped murmuring and had their attention focused on him. "Now, assuming that this ain't just another one of Wally's delusions - which it better not be," he added threateningly, leaning down toward the one-eyed frog in question before straightening back up, "If there is a monster lurking around out there, then our best course is to catch this beast before it hurts somebody. Because," he continued, striking a photogenic pose as a pair of frogs lifted up a campaign banner behind him, "for Mayor Toadstool, your safety comes first!"
Some of the gathered frogs rolled their eyes at the display, but the majority began clapping for the mayor in the wake of his speech. "Well, it's the responsible thing to do!" Wally affirmed with a smile and a thumbs-up, causing a wave of muttered agreement to spread through the square.
"Right then, let's get ourselves a hunting party together. All volunteers, step forward!" the mayor called out to all those assembled.
He was met by a wall of uncertain stares and complete silence, save for the chirping of a cricket. The mayor sighed heavily and facepalmed.
"Let's try that again. All volunteers who don't want a five-percent increase to their taxes this month, step forward!"
Now he was met by over a dozen frogs stepping up from the rest of the crowd, albeit reluctantly and grumbling. Smiling in satisfaction, the mayor called over his assistant and began going over plans with those still assembled.
Sprig, however, wasn't paying attention to the proceedings any longer. He was staring off into the distance, metaphorical gears turning slowly in his head, until an equally-metaphorical alarm clock went off.
"Polly, I just had a great idea," he announced, a smile working its way back onto his face. Pumping a fist in the air, he exclaimed, "I am going to catch that beast all by myself and save the town! That'll prove I'm plenty responsible!"
As he was about to jump out of the cart though, his path was blocked by the appearance of a bucket and his sister, her tiny arms held out.
"Stop right there! You, take down a monster? Pfft. Besides, Hop Pop said that you had to stay in the cart, and I have to make sure you don't leave," she yelled. Flexing what few muscles she had in her small arms and taking on a tough voice that didn't at all match her small round frame, she growled, "Just give me an excuse! You know you can't take me!"
Sprig merely glared and grunted in frustration. He hated to admit it, but his little sister was surprisingly strong for her size. Unreasonably so, really. Although he liked to think he could probably beat her in a wrestling match with enough effort, doing so would cause a huge ruckus, which would no doubt attract Hop Pop's attention from inside the store. Then he'd just get an earful. No, he needed to resolve this… diplomatically.
He smirked. As tough and 'responsible' as she was, Polly was still just a pollywog, and Sprig knew exactly how to get her on his side.
"Oh, oh, Polly, look!" Sprig said, making a show of widening his eyes as he reached into his jacket's inner pocket and pulled out an assortment of wrapped sweets and worm gummies, kept for occasions just like this. "Caaaaandyyyy…" he drawled, waving the sweets around tantalizingly before blowing a raspberry and scattering them across the floor of the cart, right in front of Polly's bucket.
The reaction was both immediate and completely expected. Polly's expression shifted from a tough-guy look of 'try me' to childlike wonder as her gaze followed the pieces of candy hitting the wood. Her eyes shifted back and forth from the candy, to Sprig, then back to the candy, then back to Sprig as an internal debate raged.
A moment later though, her decision was made. "BRIBE ACCEPTED!" she declared. Sprig chuckled as he watched Polly hop out of her bucket and quickly start gobbling down on the pieces of candy, not even bothering to remove the wrappers on them first.
Eh, she'd be fine.
"Okay! Let the monster hunt BEGIN!" he announced with a grin, leaping out of the cart and running off toward the forest. Polly watched him go, not stopping him, but instead cupping her flippers around her mouth and calling after him.
"DON'T DIE!"
The sun's rays beat down steadily and unobstructed onto the valley, further heating the already humid swamp air. Dragonflies buzzed past the treetops, going about their simple lives in the wilderness. All was relatively peaceful in the deep woods.
Peaceful, that was, save for the young pink frog hopping excitedly through the forest, leaping between tree branches and sliding down mossy trunks while in search of his quarry. Sprig had only been in the forest for a few minutes so far, hopping all over the area between Wartwood and where he remembered Wally's house was, but so far hadn't seen hide nor wart of the beast. Giant mosquitoes, wasp-peckers, dragon- and swamp-flies, sure, but nothing even remotely resembling whatever the thing was Wally had described.
Thus, Sprig decided to extend his search further into the forest, taking care to avoid making too much noise and potentially drawing the attention of any larger animals. Lots of dangerous predators lived in the deeper parts of these woods, like frilled lizards and preying mantises. Even if he was already hunting a frog-eating monster, Sprig wasn't actually in any rush to get eaten today. Or any day. Getting eaten would probably hurt, a lot.
Seeing a hollow log half-buried in the soggy marsh, on impulse, Sprig leaped into it to check if the beast he was after was hiding inside. It only took a moment to learn that the log's only occupants were small bugs. Frowning, he popped his head - now covered in a thin blanket of moss - out of the log to continue to scan the trees… until he felt a prickling sensation on the side of his face and reached up to see what was causing it, pulling away a wriggling tiny centipede that had hitched a ride on his head. After a moment's consideration, the boy's tongue shot out at the bug, sticking to it and pulling the tiny creature back into his mouth. Nothing wrong with a light snack, after all. After chewing and swallowing, he jumped out of the log and took a few steps into a small clearing nearby, to continue his search for anything even remotely out of the ordinary.
Focused as he was on watching the trees, he almost missed what he was searching for. Fortunately, he felt when he took a step forward through the clearing, expecting his foot to land on normal mossy dirt and mud, only for him to stumble and flail his arms when his foot went into a short depression in the ground instead. After catching his balance, the boy looked down, and his eyes lit up at what he saw.
Where his foot was, the ground was pressed down deeply and firmly, but it clearly wasn't a normal gap in the forest floor. This depression looked vaguely like…
"Footprints..?" Sprig asked himself, looking around the area and noticing a trail of similar prints in the soft ground leading both to and away from where he was standing. Quietly, he knelt down to inspect the one he'd almost tripped in. It definitely resembled a footprint… but not like any footprint he'd seen before. There were no toes, no claw marks, no flipper imprints, nothing. The print was instead shaped like a large misshapen oval, curved at the center and becoming thinner at one end, and the bottom of the footprint was riddled with strange angular patterns the boy didn't recognize from anywhere.
The next footprint in the line in both directions, Sprig noticed, looked very different from the first. It had the same basic curved ovular shape, but beyond that, it didn't share any of the details. The angular patterns from the first footprint were absent from the second, replaced instead by smooth dirt and five tiny, vaguely circular marks at the wide end of the footprint, looking sort of like toe marks, only all of different sizes. The second footprint also looked noticeably smaller than the first, and shallower too, like whatever creature it belonged to was putting less weight on this foot for whatever reason. Looking further, Sprig saw that the two different footprint shapes kept alternating; the left prints being the ones with the wide footprint and the weird patterns, while the right ones were smaller with the weirdly-shaped toe-marks.
The way the prints were spaced out, alternating back-and-forth, indicated that whatever beast made them was likely walking on two legs. The footprints themselves didn't even remotely resemble those of any creature Sprig had seen before in this forest, which meant there was probably only one possible culprit.
"Huh… this monster sure does have some weird feet. Unless…" Sprig wondered aloud, cupping a hand beneath his mouth. "...what if it's wearing a big shoe on one foot..?" A moment of silence, along with a cricket chirping somewhere nearby. "...nah! What kind of monster wears just one good shoe? That'd be weird even for a frog!"
Back in town, while listening to the Mayor's attempts at formulating a battle plan, One-Eyed Wally sneezed.
"Alrighty. These footprints look relatively fresh. The monster probably isn't far. And that means…" Sprig reached up and brought his goggles down over his eyes, then reached into his jacket and pulled out a slingshot with a red band. "It's time for Sprig the Hunter to make his move."
With that, Sprig bounded off further into the forest, this time making sure to follow the footprints as he leapt between the trees. Looking down at the footprints from above, he noticed that the distance between each print was huge. The creature's stride was wider than any frog's or toad's, wider than even some of the larger predators in the woods. That meant Wally was probably right about the creature being super tall, which also meant it'd probably be easy to spot once Sprig got closer to it. Keeping that in mind, he continued to stalk the creature from the treetops, making sure to stay quiet and only jumping on the thicker branches in order to keep his disturbance of the foliage to a minimum.
It didn't take much longer after that. Mere minutes after he began following them, the space between the footprints started to get smaller and smaller, indicating the monster had started to slow down around here. Then, the path of footprints started to veer off, curving through and around trees and looping back on itself before going off elsewhere. Sprig was confused by the monster's aimlessness, but didn't have much time to dwell on it. After another minute of following the strange tracks, he heard something. A noise that sounded like someone… or something… was angrily shouting nearby… or maybe roaring? His musings were interrupted when he noticed another small clearing just up ahead… and more importantly, that there was a figure standing in the clearing. Something tall.
Descending from the branches to the forest floor, Sprig grabbed a random pebble off the ground and carefully, very carefully, tiptoed forward, hiding behind the trunk of a wide tree just at the edge of the clearing. The monster he was after was just on the other side of this tree, he just knew it. Whatever it was, though, it was making lots of bizarre noises. Again, he could only compare the sounds to grunts and growls… and whines, weirdly.
"Urgh… Wago ah! WAGO AH! Mbolo bin ma vo i nuzhif nagoqbolo! Qbê qah'm mbun nmejux mbuhz qald?!"
Sprig frowned in confusion. Those were definitely not the sounds of an amphibian, and yet… something about them sounded off. They didn't sound like the sorts of bestial noises an animal or monster would make. Whatever the creature was doing in the clearing, though, it definitely sounded upset. Sprig loaded and drew back the band on his slingshot, then slowly inched around the base of the tree until he could peek around to see the creature. When he did, he almost gasped at the sight before him.
Looking at it from behind, the creature was completely unlike anything he'd seen before. It was standing upright, and seemed to have sort of the same general body shape as an amphibian; two arms, two legs, and what looked like might've been its head from where Sprig was standing, though it was hard to tell beneath all the puffy curly… hair, maybe? But despite its shape, the beast was tall; not nearly as big as some other monsters in these woods, but it was still twice as tall as any adult frog Sprig knew, and much taller than even a toad. Yet despite its height, its body was disproportionately thin, like someone had stuck a bunch of sticks and tree branches together. At first glance, the creature didn't look like a bird or insect, as it was missing anything Sprig recognized as feathers, talons, wings, antennae, or a carapace. Instead, it had what looked like light brown skin, and the hair on its head (assuming it was hair) was also brown, but a much darker shade of it, and seemed to have various leaves and twigs poking out of it. Probably a mammal of some sort, which definitely made sense; just about every mammal Sprig knew of was also a ferocious carnivore. The creature's physical body was already weird-looking, but strangely enough, it was also covered in colorful fabrics… they actually looked like clothes of some sort. A light blue wrapping around its torso that strongly resembled a shirt, a purple curtain-like strip of fabric wrapped around its waist that looked kind of like the skirts he'd seen some frogs wear at dances, a bright pink sack on its back with a bunch of colorful objects attached to it and straps that went around the creature's shoulders, and lastly, on its feet…
A single, yellow, bizarrely-shaped shoe of some sort covering its left foot, and a white dirt-covered sack covering its right.
Sprig's eyes widened as he took in the creature's appearance. Its clothes, if they even were clothes, were visibly dirty and torn in places, in such a way that made it seem like they weren't designed to get like that in the first place. The creature's skin, as well, was caked in patches of dirt and grime, with a few shallow red cuts all over what he could see of its arms and legs.
"Huge head… spindly limbs…" Sprig observed quietly to himself. At the moment, the creature's back was turned to him, and it hadn't yet noticed his presence. Instead, its attention seemed to be focused on a weird, small orange box it was holding over its head with one of its large, five-fingered hands. The part of the box that was facing down at the creature was visibly glowing with bright light in the relative dark of the woods, and Sprig almost had to squint when he looked directly at it. The other hand was at her side, and was holding onto a large tree branch, one that he knew he would have struggled to lift himself, yet the creature seemed to be hefting effortlessly. One end of the branch, Sprig noticed, was whittled and sharpened to a fine point, while the branch itself appeared to have been plucked of any stray twigs or leaves in order to make it as straight as possible.
'Is that supposed to be a spear or something?' Sprig wondered. 'Weird. What kind of monster uses weapons?'
After making a few more grunting sounds at the box, the creature brought it down to its chest and looked down at it, turning around slightly, just enough for Sprig to see the front of its face. It had a mouth which seemed to be set in a harsh growl, two small white eyes with dark brown irises, two weird protruding flaps of skin on either side of its head, and set very distinctively in the middle of its face, right above its mouth and between both of its eyes…
"A face bump..!" Sprig exclaimed quietly. This was definitely the monster Wally had seen, no doubt about it. Whatever it was, it was ugly. Just another one of Mother Nature's horrible, horrible mistakes, he figured. Taking another step forward to get a better look, he didn't notice as his foot descended toward a brittle stick poking out of the ground at an angle.
A loud CRACK rang throughout the clearing.
Instantly, the beast's head whipped around toward the source of the noise, and locked eyes with Sprig. The two stared at each other for what felt like an entire minute. Sprig's arms and legs were frozen in a mixture of fear and panic, having lost the element of surprise. The creature's eyes were wide open as it watched him, its limbs twitching, its spear hand seeming to shake and whiten as it tightly clutched its weapon. It looked like it would lunge toward him at any moment.
"Oh, Frog…" Sprig muttered, drawing back the band on his slingshot in preparation for whatever life-or-death struggle was about to ensue.
Then, abruptly, the creature spun around and started running off deeper into the woods.
"Whuh- Hey! Get back here!" Sprig called after it. The beast didn't turn or slow down, not that Sprig really expected it to. A look of determination replaced his initial shock. He'd already managed to track down the monster with surprising ease, he couldn't let it get away. So with a grunt, he leapt into the branches above and hopped in pursuit, calling after it.
"You can't escape from me, beast! I'll catch you, or my name isn't Sprig Plantar!"
Back in Wartwood…
It had been a little over twenty minutes now since Sprig had gone off into the forest. Hopediah 'Hop Pop' Plantar, patriarch of the Plantar family, had just finished his brief shopping venture. Waving over his shoulder as Mrs. Jonkins, he was humming a merry tune to himself as he exited the store, bag of groceries in hand, ready to get back to the farm and finish the rest of the day's chores… but he stopped when he noticed the crowd gathered within town square.
"Hmm?"
His first instinct was concern, developed over time and experience from whenever he saw a crowd assembled in town while he and his grandchildren were present. However, as he got closer to his cart (still thankfully parked right where he left it), he could see that the kids were nowhere within the crowd. Said crowd was composed of frogs from throughout the town, armed with torches and pitchforks raised into the air as they all donned angry expressions. At the head of the crowd and also armed with a torch was the illustrious Mayor Toadstool himself, who appeared to be rallying the crowd into a frenzy.
"Now, when I say 'kill', you say 'it'! KILL!"
"IT!"
"KILL!"
"IT!"
"Heheh. Well, another day, another mob," the old frog laughed to himself as he climbed into the front seat of the cart, not even remotely curious as to the topic of today's angry murder assembly. Seen one, seen 'em all. Once he was settled and deposited the bag on the seat next to him, he looked over his shoulder at the young ones. "Come on, kids, time to get back to- WHAT THE?!"
Within the cart, Polly's bucket was overturned, with the little pollywog herself laying on her side, bloated slightly and with green sugary candy residue coating the sides of her mouth. The floor of the cart was wet from the spilled water, and saliva-covered candy wrappers were littered everywhere. But that wasn't even what concerned old Hopediah.
The concerning part was that his boy was nowhere to be seen.
Polly seemed to be staring off into nothingness, contemplating her life choices, when she heard Hop Pop and met his gaze. "I don't have a candy problem! You have a candy problem!" she yelled unprompted.
"Polly, where's Sprig?!" Hop Pop asked frantically, choosing to ignore the issue of her definite candy problem for the time being. Polly, for her part, only gave him a blank look.
"Uhh… something something 'monster', something something 'woods'," she answered plainly, pointing at the direction Sprig had run off in.
"Wha... Monster? Woods?" Hop Pop asked in confusion. "Polly, what're you on about?"
"Well... Wally told everyone about it," she explained after a moment's hesitation. "He came running into town yelling about some weird monster that attacked him in the woods last night."
Hop Pop spared a glance toward the assembled mob, of which One-Eyed Wally himself was a part, hoisting his accordion skyward as though it were a weapon. So that's what the murder rally was about.
"After that, Sprig went to go hunt down the monster," Polly continued. "Something about proving he was responsible…"
"He WHAAAT?!" Hop Pop croaked in horror, while the nearby crowd fell silent in the wake of his shout. "Polly, Sprig could die out there! Why didn't you stop him?!"
Polly said nothing, her mouth a flat line as she merely glanced between the candy wrappers and Hop Pop's terrified face.
"Ooh, tough break there, Hopediah," Wally piped in, playing a sad note on his accordion. "I hate to be the one to tell ya this, but if your boy ran off into those woods all by his lonesome, well, he's as good as eaten. That beast'll devour everythin' in its path!"
Gripping what little hair he had left, Hop Pop felt himself be overcome with panic, then terror. What if Sprig twisted his ankle while jumping around? What if he fell into a deep pit and broke his leg and couldn't hop back out? What if he ate something poisonous? What if a heron or cockatrice saw him? What if he did get eaten by the monster?!
In short order, the panic and terror in his chest was flooded and replace by sheer, protective parental instinct.
"NOT ON MY WATCH, IT WON'T!" he shouted, grabbing Polly and seating her on top of his head as he leapt out of the cart and landed clear on the other side of the crowd, then ran off toward the edge of town. "HANG IN THERE, BOY! HOP POP'S A-COMIN'!" he cried, disappearing into the tall grass without a second look back.
The crowd watched him go in silence, until Mayor Toadstool spoke up. "Well, we're already going to kill a monster, I guess we might as well save a child while we're at it," he shrugged nonchalantly. "Come on folks, let's follow him!"
The mob of frogs cheered in response and ran in pursuit, eagerly hefting their assorted improvised weapons, continuing their repeating various chants and war cries of choice as they went.
"Yeah, burn the monster!"
"Kill it, kill it!"
"Harvest its toenails for medicinal purposes!"
Before long, the town square was completely empty, save for the purple snail still parked with its cart in front of the Grub n' Go. The snail looked around in confusion. Without anyone to tell it otherwise, it chirped and slid up to a nearby empty fruit stand, bending down inside and nibbling on the store of sweet fruits within.
Back within the forest…
Sprig liked to consider himself quick on his feet, but he had to admit, this monster was really giving him a run for his money. After nearly ten minutes of jumping, hopping, sprinting, diving, and dashing between trees, around boulders, and under fallen logs, he was still in hot pursuit of the beast. Its long stride allowed it to cover distance quickly while running, and its sheer height allowed it to either completely ignore or bowl through obstacles that Sprig had to navigate around. That being said, Sprig was still easily managing to keep up. He might not have been as big as his quarry, but his small size was an advantage in its own right, allowing him to slip under obstacles that the creature had to jump over or run around, and letting him pursue it through the tree branches while staying quiet... or at least comparatively quiet. Also, despite the beast's height and extremely long legs, it didn't seem to be very dexterous, or able to jump very high. Sprig watched at one point as it struggled to clumsily clear a fallen log that was in its way - a log that Sprig knew he could have jumped over without even trying - and ended up crushing the log down the middle with its weight instead before hastily getting back up and fleeing again.
Throughout the chase, the creature seemed to periodically look backward, continuing to run away if it saw him. Three separate times now the creature had lost sight of him and had slowed down, appearing to catch its breath, only for Sprig to jump out at it in an attempted ambush, causing it to yelp and go running off all over again. Its reaction time was impressive, but the monster didn't seem to have much - if any - sense of stealth, or where it was going for that matter. At first, Sprig was half-expecting to be led back to its nest, or something similar. But every time it took off from him, it did so in a seemingly random direction while loudly tearing through the underbrush, leaving a clear and obvious path behind it.
At this point, even Sprig was starting to lose track of exactly where he was in the forest, though he had a feeling he still wasn't too far from the edge of the swamp, based on how often he and the monster had doubled back in the direction they'd come from. Part of him was worried that they'd attract some other predators in the forest with how much noise the monster was making, but then, it was more likely that the other animals were terrified of the beast and were keeping their distance. Although, Sprig had to wonder why the monster was so dead set on running away from him. Wally had made it sound like a vicious killer, but so far this beast was reminding him more of the time he'd spent a whole morning trying to catch a skittish bumble-hare.
Such were his thoughts as he continued to pursue the strange monster, which was still visible further up ahead. The beast wove between trees, kicking up fallen leaves and mud with every step, until, suddenly, it yelped and dropped from view. Confused, Sprig bounced forward as quickly as he could to where the beast last was-
"WhoawhOAwhOAwhOA!"
-and had to flail his arms wildly in order to stop himself from accidentally diving off the side of a small cliff, the edge of which had been hidden by the treeline. Wrapping his legs around the base of a tree branch to keep himself from flying off, he remained completely still until he was sure he wouldn't drop. Then, with a sigh of relief, he repositioned himself upright. Looking down, he could see that the cliff wasn't especially steep… it was, however, very muddy. There was a visible trail of parted mud going down the cliff and into a rustling patch of the trees down below, obviously caused by the monster sliding downhill.
Unfortunately, Sprig couldn't see where it was now through the thick foliage. A beast of its size probably wouldn't be hurt by a fall like that: at worst, it might've hit its head on a tree somewhere at the bottom, and that was only if he was lucky. More than likely, it would already be back on its feet and continuing to run away. He didn't want to risk losing track of it, but…
He looked down at the cliff again. The cliff itself, again, wasn't steep, at least not to something as big as the monster. To him though, it would be more than a little treacherous if he lost his footing. The mud covering it too, if the trail the monster left behind was any indication, was both slick and deep. Odds were, if he tried following it down the hill, he'd slip and tumble the whole way down. And knowing his luck, he would hit his head on something at the bottom, or he'd catch and twist his ankle on a stray root poking out of the ground. His usual daring sense of adventure was, for once, muted by his desire to not screw this up. If he got hurt, after all, then that would just prove that Hop Pop was right. He needed a flawless victory on this hunt!
And so, making a mental note of where the monster had ended up, Sprig took a detour to look for a safer way to descend the cliff. Thankfully, it only took him a few minutes to find a loose descending-pile of stones that more-or-less formed a path down the hillside, just a short ways off from where he initially was. Hopping down as quickly as he could while being careful not to slip and fall, he soon made his way to the bottom of the cliff. Afterwards, he rapidly made his way back to where he thought the beast was. Based on how things had been going so far, it probably wouldn't have gotten far, at least not without leaving another easy path to follow.
Sure enough, when he got back to the part of the cliff with the wide slide-trail left on it, he saw where the monster had crashed through the brush, then picked itself up and continued running southward. It didn't seem to be in as much of a rush this time, meaning there was less destruction of the local fauna to indicate where it had gone. Its footprints though, distinctive as they were, were easy to follow.
Sprig followed the trail for a few minutes, keeping his slingshot out and his eyes peeled for any potential surprises. There was no sign of the beast yet, but that didn't mean it wasn't nearby. As he followed the footprints around the trunk of a tree though, something else on the ground caught his eye. Another set of footprints, perfectly matching those made by the monster. This new set though seemed to come from the west, briefly crossing over the trail he was following and heading off into the brush, where he lost sight of them. Looking further ahead, he noticed a third trail, this one going northeast.
"Hmm…" Sprig put his slingshot away, pulled up his goggles and looked around, spotting more and more identical footprints leading both to and away from where he was now. They all seemed just as fresh as the ones he'd been following, but with how the ground in these woods was almost perpetually moist, it was a bit hard to tell without closer inspection. "Seems the beast frequents these parts. I must be getting close to its nest…" he muttered to himself as he observed the footprints. So occupied was the boy with his thoughts that he didn't even notice the pile of leaves he was standing on, or the poorly-concealed rope 'hidden' under said leaves, leading from the pile up the base of the adjacent tree. "Come to think of it, this would probably a good place to set up a traAAAAAAAAAAAHHH-"
His words cut off into a frightened yell as the leaves around his feet suddenly shifted and the rope he was standing on top of without realizing it tightened around his ankle, before yanking him high into the air. For a couple of seconds, he felt weightless. Gravity soon reasserted itself, and Sprig fell back toward the ground, only to have his fall stopped mid-descent as the rope around his ankle went taught.
Out of breath, disoriented, and now also hanging upside down, Sprig groaned weakly and shook his head, trying to stop the swimming images in his eyes. Twisting his head to look up, he saw that he'd been caught in a snare trap. Twisting his head downward, he could see the loose and very conspicuous pile of leaves that had been 'concealing' the rope he was currently tied up in. Most of the rope, though, was hanging out where anyone could see it. There wasn't even any bait... that was just sloppy work. It might have worked on a grubble that wasn't watching where it was going, but any other animal with half a brain would have had to be blind to not see and avoid such an obvious trap.
…he felt like an idiot when he realized he'd just gone and called himself a blind fool. He was so caught up in his search that he completely forgot about the most important rule for a hunter; being aware of your surroundings. Sprig sighed heavily.
'Well, this stinks. Maybe Hop Pop is right. What kind of hunter gets himself caught in an amateur snare set up by a… wait a minute.'
He looked back up at the snare, then around at the general area.
'Who set up a snare in the middle of the forest this far off the path? Especially one near where the… monster… was…'
His attention was caught by the sound of loud rustling in the tall grass behind him. Gulping, he carefully twisted his head around and upward in order to see what was making the noise.
The grass shook again. Once, twice, three times, each time getting louder and louder. On the fourth shake, the grass parted, and Sprig's eyes widened as the monster stepped out, a scary look in its eyes and its sharpened stick clutched firmly in both hands. And it was looking straight at Sprig.
Taking several deep breaths, it seemed to grin viciously, opened its mouth, and-
"Caught ya!" shouted the teenage human girl to the little frog creature who'd sprung her trap. She laughed a little, partly out of elation, and partly out of manic exhaustion. "Thought you'd get the best of ol' Anne, eh? Well you DIDN'T. Heheh, heh…"
Honestly, she was amazed this plan even worked, considering she'd come up with it on the spot. She was just lucky, she figured, to have still had a length of rope left over at the bottom of one of her bag's pockets from buying supplies to help her parents make a piñata the week prior. Still, she'd only been paying half-attention to her dad's explanations for how to rig snares during the family's old camping trips. Even then, with how quickly her pursuer caught up with her after she slid down a freaking cliff (the back of her clothes were completely caked in mud now, gross), she'd barely had time to get it set up before she'd heard something approaching and had to hide. But seeing the fruits of her labor like this, she couldn't help but feel proud and vindicated. Maybe she had a knack for survival after all! Take that, mom! Now she could finally get a good look at what had been chasing her for the past... how long had it been? Half an hour? It sure felt like half an hour.
Speaking of, the creature was currently hanging upside down by its leg, but had twisted itself so its head was in an upright position. Now the frog-like thing was staring at her with wide eyes and its mouth wide open. At least, it definitely looked like a frog, with the same slender arms, legs, and general body shape, only… off. It had slightly different proportions that made it more humanoid-looking, if that made any sense. It was short, and looked like it might only come just up to her thighs or waist, if even that. It had colorful vibrant pink skin, and a bright yellow-green tongue from what she could see inside its mouth. But the weirdest part to her was that it was wearing what looked like clothes. Just like the one she'd tried to ask for help the previous night, minus the skin color. Different clothes too. The one last night had been dressed like a hobo from what she briefly saw of it, and she hadn't even noticed that it was a frog until she'd reached for its arm and felt its sticky skin. Still, this one at least looked sort-of presentable.
Then again, she had no clue what fashion was like for a race of frog people. Maybe ripped vests and hats with weeds sticking out of them were in season for them?
Suddenly, her train of thought was broken by the frog making a sound somewhere between a gasp and a croak, as it bent upward and tried to undo the rope tied around its ankle. If there was one technically-a-survival-skill Anne knew she was good at, though, it was tying knots. She had her dad to thank for that one. Once the frog seemed to realize it was stuck, it pointed at her and made a series of ribbiting noises that Anne assumed were words of some sort. It was difficult to tell with all the frog sounds, but to Anne's ears the creature's voice sounded surprisingly… young. Almost like a child's.
She shook her head and marched up to the creature and put on what she hoped was her most intimidating game face while brandishing her makeshift spear menacingly.
"Alright, listen here buster," she hissed, leaning down so that she was face to face with the creature. "Stop. Following me. I don't know what your deal is, but I have more than enough problems right now without being chased around by some weird… little… frog… thing!"
The frog creature stared at her blankly in response, showing no signs that it understood anything she'd said, or even cared. In fact, once she was done, it seemed to take a deep breath, as though bracing itself, before looking at her with a fierce expression (could frogs even make fierce expressions?). It pointed at her again, opened its mouth and-
"Ix, E jaa. Khôedw ki jfesa ca of mekx vauh, uha pio? Mabb E xula rut damj vih pio, raujk! E kujka kahherba!"
-continued to make more croaking and ribbit noises, interspersed constantly with what sounded like words, though not in any language she recognized. Anne frowned angrily and put her free hand up to her forehead, pulling some of her hair in frustration.
"Stop it! Stop doing that, stop… ribbiting at me!" she cried. "I don't know what you're saying, okay? I don't speak fro-"
A loud screeching roar from behind her suddenly rent the air, followed by the sound of stomping sending vibrations through the ground, effectively cutting her off. Both of their eyes widening, Anne as well as the frog turned to look behind them. Off in the distance through the trees and tall grass, where the roar had come from, several thick plant stalks were cracking and falling over one-by-one in tandem with each shake of the earth. The stomps sounded like they were getting steadily closer and closer.
Anne's pupils shrank. She recognized that roar. It was the very first living creature she'd come across after she'd woken up in this freaky place, and the very first thing it had done was try to bisect her. She only barely managed to get away from it then, and she swore that the same monster had been dogging her through this forest ever since.
"Oh no," she squeaked in a tiny voice. "Not again! Crap, crap, crap…!" How she hadn't heard it sooner, she didn't know. Probably because she was too distracted dealing with this frog. Or maybe she'd gotten close to its den, or nest, or whatever, and woken it up with her shouting. That would be just her luck. Regardless, it was already too close for her to make a run for it, and she sure as Hell wasn't gonna risk trying to fight it. Instead, she began frantically scanning the area for a place to hide, and she soon spotted what looked like a fallen hollowed-out log several yards away.
"M-muek! Mxaha pio wiedw? Tid'k baula ca!" the frog cried as she bolted toward the log. She barely even noticed the sounds it was making as she tried to keep her frantic thoughts in order.
'You'll be fine, Anne. You'll be fine. Just hide in the log and wait for it to pass. Don't make any noise. Hope that it can't smell you. You'll be fine. Everything will be-'
A frightened yell from behind her made her stop mid-step halfway to her destination and look back. At the tree, the pink frog person was still hanging by the rope out in the open. It was once again trying frantically to untie the knot around its ankle, making panicked noises as it did so. When its attempt to undo the knot failed a second time, it resorted to grabbing the rope itself and trying to gnaw through it to free itself, all the while the stomping grew closer and closer, louder and louder.
Another hissing screech filled the air, now close enough to make Anne's eardrums shake from the volume. The little frog evidently felt it too, as its expression visibly shifted to one of mortal fear, redoubling its efforts.
It was pointless, Anne knew. The monster was too close. There was no way the frog would be able to escape the snare in time.
'YOUR snare.'
Anne squeezed her eyes shut and tried to block out the accusing voice of her conscience. There was nothing she could do now, she didn't want to die! If she went back now, that monster would find both of them, and it'd shred her to ribbons. Like it or not... it was her or the frog. She turned back toward the log, and continued to-
"AAAAAAAHHHH!"
She managed to take one step, and froze again. The frog's scream echoed through her head. It sounded frightened. Terrified. For a moment, it didn't sound like a frog, or a monster. It sounded like a person… a kid. A scared kid. One about to get mauled to death by a giant monster.
Anne scowled. She grit her teeth. She swallowed. She screwed her eyes shut and took a deep breath. She tightened her grip on the spear until her knuckles went white. She didn't let herself think. Instead, her instincts took over.
She turned around.
Sprig continued to flail about upside down, trying anything he could think of to get free. Trying to untie the knot didn't work, it was too tight and he couldn't get a good angle on it. Trying to chew through the rope definitely didn't work, all that accomplished was leaving a bad taste in his mouth. Whatever this rope was made of, it was much thicker than the kind of rope he was used to. Now he was swinging back and forth as a last resort, hoping that either the rope or the branch it was on would snap from his weight. Both seemed to be holding strong, though.
Another stomp. Another thin tree cracked and fell over not far off. Whatever was coming, it was big, and it wasn't happy. Sprig had a feeling he knew what it was, based on the sound of the roar, and if he was right, he didn't want to be caught by it while unable to defend himself. Heck, he didn't want to be caught by it, period! He wouldn't even be in this stupid snare if not for the creature he'd been chasing. The same creature that ran off after shouting nonsense in his face and left him here to die!
Scowling, Sprig turned to look at the direction the beast had run off in, just to see if it was still nearby… and did a double-take when he saw it running back toward him, fury in its eyes and its sharpened stick brandished forward.
It was coming back to attack him?! Seriously?!
He couldn't watch. As the beast gripped its stick with both of its hands and swung toward him, he covered his eyes, bracing himself for the sweet embrace of nothingness…
And heard something snap. He felt weightless, and then he was falling…
A moment after that, he hit the ground on his stomach. Letting out an "OOF!" as the wind rushed out of him, he barely had time to groan in pain before he felt hands around his torso lifting him up off the ground. Warm, dry, bony hands that felt nothing like a frog's. He could feel himself bouncing up and down as he was held firmly and tightly against something warm and soft. Opening his eyes, he saw the forest floor whizzing past below him at breakneck speed, along with both of the tall beast's legs, alternating back and forth as it ran. Looking up, he saw he was being carried beneath one of the creature's arms, with the creature's face above him, set in an expression of wide-eyed panic. Mucous, or some other kind of clear liquid was pouring out of its skin and dripping off its face bump. It was panting heavily as it ran, felt through the rapid expanding and shrinking of its chest. He was being squeezed so tightly that it was a little hard for him to breathe. But the creature wasn't even looking at him. Rather, its gaze was squarely focused on something up ahead.
Sprig found out what that something was when the creature grasped him with both of its hands and clutched him against the front of its chest right before it dropped back-first to the ground, the momentum carrying both of them forward in a slide beneath the low opening of a broken, hollow log. The broken sunlight through the overhead foliage was almost completely replaced with cold shadow, and Sprig felt the beast quickly pick itself up and press its back against the damp, mossy interior of the log. It continued to take several deep breaths, its chest rising and falling repeatedly. Sprig realized that he, too, was breathing rapidly, though his was muted by the creature's hand covering his mouth.
He didn't have much time to dwell on it, for they'd made it into the log with only moments to spare. Shortly after reaching it, a massive stomp shook the ground outside, along with the log itself plus its inhabitants. Then another. Then another. Each stomp came with the sound of dirt and mud being torn up from the ground. The stomps came slowly, steadily, and after a few moments, they were accompanied by a deep, clicking growl.
Both Sprig and the creature with him stopped panting at the same time and held their breath. The stomping slowly came closer and closer, the wood of the log vibrating with every step. The monster's clicking and chattering filled the air and invaded his ears, making it impossible to think. He looked up, and in that moment, he met the creature's gaze looking back down at him. It had bags under its eyes, its teeth were clenched, and its pupils were shaking. He could feel what he assumed was its heart, beating like a drum through its skin and clothing.
It was just as scared as he was.
They waited in complete silence, not daring to move, speak, or even breathe. The monster outside stepped closer. And closer. And closer. It growled again. A large shadow fell over the log, blocking out what little light was making its way inside. The Creature screwed its eyes shut. Sprig felt himself do the same.
…moments that felt like hours passed…
…and the monster outside stomped again. This time in the other direction. Then again. Then again.
It was moving away.
Both Sprig and the Creature opened their eyes at the same time and, almost as one, dared to peek out through the small holes in the log. Finally getting a proper look at the monster, Sprig saw a giant insect beast, taller than a dozen frogs stacked atop one another, with six legs, four of which were attached to its abdomen and ended in large hooked feet. The last two legs were attached to its thorax and ended in huge, thorned, wicked scythe-like appendages, used for equal parts grasping and shredding apart its prey. The monster had a red, spiked carapace covering its entire body, two large violet forward-facing eyes (which thankfully were looking in the opposite direction), and two long, hair-covered antennae which were waving to and fro.
An alpha preying mantis, Sprig realized. He only recognized it for what it was from the pictures he'd seen before in Hop Pop's books. He'd only ever seen the smaller, weaker versions of the species in person, and even then only from afar. Those had a green or blue carapace, usually without spikes, and were about half the size of the one he was looking at now. Yet even those versions still towered over most amphibians, and could easily tear a frog like him limb from limb. He didn't even want to imagine what an alpha could do. What it would do, if it caught him.
Luckily, it looked like he wouldn't have to find out. The mantis now had its back to them, and appeared to be inspecting the area where the snare had been placed. By its feet, Sprig saw the stick the Creature had been using as a weapon, apparently left abandoned on the ground after it had cut the rope and grabbed him. The preying mantis walked over it, stepping on it without even noticing and unceremoniously shattering the stick into dozens of splintered pieces. He could feel the Creature wince at the sight from beside him. Raising one of its forelegs up to inspect the conspicuously still-dangling rope, the mantis effortlessly sliced through the material, causing the whole thing to fall to the ground. Chittering slightly in response, it continued to look around for a bit longer, before finally walking off, the sounds of its stomps continuing long after the monster eventually disappeared through the trees.
Sprig and the Creature beside him kept watching and listening, refusing to let their respective guards down. They listened as the creature's stomps grew quieter and quieter as the long seconds ticked by… until they finally faded away completely. Simultaneously, they both let out a sigh of exhaustion and relief, Sprig collapsing to the ground on his stomach while the Creature merely placed a hand over its chest and went slack against the wall of the log. They were still alive. They weren't going to die.
What felt like several more minutes passed as both were finally able to catch their breath. Eventually, Sprig rolled over and pulled himself into a sitting position. In doing so, he found he was sitting directly across from the Creature, who was now clutching its knees close to its chest and had its head buried within.
He found himself having difficulty speaking, at least for a few moments. But eventually, he found his voice, and words began to spill out of his mouth.
"You… you came back for me…" he muttered in disbelief. "You… saved me."
If the Creature heard him, it gave no reaction. Its face was fully concealed, and its chest seemed to be slightly heaving up and down as it made faint, muffled panting noises, every now and again interrupted by what sounded like a sniffle.
…was it… crying?
Tentatively, still worried that it might snap at him, Sprig got to his feet and reached forward until he was gently touching the Creature's arm. That, at least, got a reaction. It slowly lifted its head, allowing him to see its face. It looked at him with red, watering eyes, the edges of which were growing puffy. The sight, unnerving as it was, was still enough to tug at his own chest. This Creature had probably been afraid for its life, he realized. Why else would it be crying, now that they were safe? And yet, despite that, it had come back to keep him from getting eaten.
"…you're not a monster at all, are you?" he wondered aloud. "A monster wouldn't risk its life to save a frog… and come to think of it, a monster wouldn't be wearing clothes, or using tools, or be able to rig up a snare trap like that… but then, what are you?"
The Creature didn't respond, at least not verbally. It only stared at him with confusion and a frown. After a few moments, it seemed to shake its head and grunted before looking away, shrugging his hand off its arm.
Sprig hummed in thought and hopped over so he was looking at the Creature's face again. It glanced at him, then looked away again, though this time it didn't turn its face. The Creature definitely wasn't a frog, or any other kind of amphibian he'd seen or knew of. It looked nothing like a toad, newt, salamander, or axolotl, for starters. Plus its skin, now that he'd felt it for himself, was way too warm and dry. Any race of amphibian with skin like that would probably be dead of heatstroke, but this Creature seemed to be perfectly fine. So not an amphibian… but it obviously wasn't an animal, either. Animals couldn't do half the things he'd seen this Creature do. Was it some kind of new species in Amphibia, or an old one that had gone undiscovered until today? Or maybe…
Sprig took in its appearance again - its skin, its hair, its clothes with unfamiliar designs - and after another minute of letting his imagination run wild with all manner of ideas and theories, one of them finally clicked.
"Of course!" he yelled, startling the Creature and causing it to glare at him. He smacked a fist into his open palm and pointed at it. "The body, the weird clothes, the tools! It all makes sense! You must be an alien! You've come from beyond the stars to abduct our cowapillars and ruin our crops! Wow, I can't believe Wally was right! Uh, about aliens existing I mean, not about you being a monster. Well, am I right, or am I right?"
Again, the Creature gave no indication that it understood him. It just continued to stare at him, its frown growing more and more pronounced with each passing second that he spoke. Finally, it shouted and started making more grunting noises at him while pointing at its mouth.
"Ohaezb! Nmaj! Loix gê fujn: U. Wih'm. Ehxolnmihx. Sae. Zam um?"
Now it was Sprig's turn to stare blankly. He blinked a few times. "…soooo, does that mean I'm half-right…?"
The Creature groaned and slapped its hand against its face. Then it moved and repositioned itself onto its knees as it looked him in the eye, and began making various gestures with its arms. First, it pointed at him with both hands. Then, it pointed back at its mouth, opening and closing it repeatedly. Then it pointed at the sides of its head, where its ear holes were (or at least where Sprig assumed its ear holes should be, since all he could see were those weird skin flap things). Lastly, it made a cross shape with both arms in front of its chest, and shook its head from side to side while frowning.
Sprig narrowed his eyes and hummed in thought. The Creature was clearly trying to communicate with him… but why not just speak normal words? It'd pointed at its hypothetical ear-holes, then crossed its arms and shook its head. Was it trying to say that it was deaf? No, that didn't make any sense. If it were deaf, it wouldn't have heard him sneaking up on it in the first place, or the preying mantis' roar for that matter. So why then? It was definitely capable of speech. The sounds it was making were like words, but they sounded like a different-
He smacked himself in the side of the head at the realization. 'Oh, of course!' He thought. 'It's an alien, so obviously it's speaking an alien language! No wonder I can't understand it! Frog, I am slow today.'
He looked at the Creature again, who had returned to its previous sitting position, and began reconsidering its previous actions, now that he had new context. In the clearing, it had been frustrated about something, and had probably been talking to itself. Sprig himself didn't do it very often, but Hop Pop did it all the time. He'd thought it was just an old person thing… but then, for all he knew, this Creature could've been as old as Hop Pop, if not older. Then, after it had caught him with its snare, it had started yelling at him. He'd initially thought it was just trying to make him scared to add flavor when it ate him, but now… maybe it had been trying to interrogate him? Or scare him into leaving it alone? Either would make sense.
So, the Creature was speaking a different language. And if he couldn't understand it, then that meant it probably also couldn't understand him. That explained a lot, but it also opened up a whole new can of problems. Sprig had tons of questions he wanted to ask this thing, like what exactly it was, and where it came from, and what its home was like, and where the rest of its people were, and if it was warm-blooded and what that was like, and why it had tried to eat Wally last night. But how was he supposed to ask it anything if it didn't even know what he was saying?
He turned away from the Creature for a moment and rubbed his temples in thought. 'Okay, think Sprig. What can you do to communicate with the freaky ugly alien creature? What's something that anyone can understand? Something that anyone can do with someone they've just met, no matter where they come from…'
He snapped his fingers.
'I've got it!'
He didn't know if this would help him understand the Creature in the long-term, but it was as good a first step as any. Plus, constantly calling it 'the Creature' in his head was starting to sound pretty rude, now that he knew it was a person.
So, with a renewed smile on his face, he turned back around to face the stranger and walked up to them, stopping right in front of their legs. They watched him curiously.
"I'm thinking we may have gotten off on the wrong foot. Let's start over. Howdy there, stranger!" he greeted. "My name's Sprig. Sprig Plantar. Mind telling me yours?"
The stranger looked back at him in silence with a universal expression that could only be described as deadpan.
"…maybe that was too complicated. Trying again." He coughed. "Okay. Name. My name's Sprig. What's your name?" This time, he made sure to gesture to himself as he said his own name, and pointed at the stranger while asking for theirs.
The stranger cocked their head slightly. Whether this indicated that they understood him somewhat or not, he didn't know, but they still didn't answer him. Sprig sighed.
'Okay. One more time. Let's keep it super simple.'
"Name. Name. Me, Sprig. Spriiiiiig," he said slowly while pointing and gesturing to himself, hoping that using fewer words and enunciating would make it clear what he was trying to say.
The stranger continued to look at him with a bewildered expression on its face. Sprig sighed again and closed his eyes. This was like trying to get Polly to say her first words all over again. He wasn't sure how to make it any simpler…
"…Sprig?"
His eyes shot open at the sound of his name in the stranger's voice. They had lifted one of their hands and were pointing at him. They still looked confused, but less in a baffled way, and more so… inquisitive. Like they were asking for clarification.
He nodded frantically and jumped slightly in excitement. "Yes, yes! My name, Sprig!" Now he pointed back at the stranger and asked the thousand-copper question. "Now, name. You?"
The stranger at last looked like they understood what he was asking. Despite that though, they seemed to hesitate. They looked away from him and hugged their legs tighter against their chest. Sprig waited patiently, but then a minute of silence passed between them with no other sounds coming from the creature.
After a bit, he looked down in an effort to conceal his disappointment. It was fine, right? After all, they'd just met. And he had been a bit rude earlier, chasing them through the forest like they were some kind of wild animal. Maybe this was a bit too much to ask.
The stranger continued looking away as they faced across from each other. After several more moments passed, they shifted. The stranger took a deep breath and looked back at Sprig.
"…Anne," they muttered quietly, though loud enough for him to hear. "Ge higo'n Anne."
Sprig gasped, eyes lit up in wonder. It sounded like there were a couple other words in there that he didn't know the meaning of, but he was focused on the first one out of the stranger's mouth. "Anne?" he asked for confirmation, pointing at them. The stranger seemed to smile ever-so-slightly, and nodded once.
Assuming that nods meant the same thing for both of them, that was all the confirmation he needed.
"Haha, yes! Anne! Anne, Sprig!" he cheered, pointing again at the stranger - Anne, he figured - and then at himself. He couldn't help himself, this was awesome! In response, Anne smiled a bit wider and made a noise that sounded like a small laugh and a sniffle, raising their arm and rubbing some of the moisture out of their eyes. It made Sprig even happier to know that he'd managed to cheer them up, however slightly.
"Well, nice to meet you Anne! Put 'er there!" he declared, extending his arm out toward them for a handshake. Only, at his gesture, the confused expression returned. Anne looked at his proffered hand, then at him, then back at the hand, like they weren't sure what to do. Experimentally, Sprig tried to demonstrate by moving his arm up and down in the expected motion while keeping it held out, and while Anne's expression changed again, he wasn't sure if they understood.
'Huh.' Sprig put his free hand to his chin in thought. 'Well, maybe they don't know what a handshake is. It might just be an amphibian thi-'
He felt a large hand, warm and dry, close around his own. Returning his attention to Anne, he saw that they had reached forward and grasped his hand, the smile returning to their face. Smiling back, he shook it a few times and was pleased to see that Anne seemed familiar with the gesture, returning it properly. During the handshake, he idly noted just how much bigger Anne's hand was compared to his own. They also had a bit of a death-grip going on, causing him to wince. Anne didn't seem to be trying to squeeze him at all, though. just like when they had grabbed him off the ground earlier. Maybe Anne's species was just naturally much stronger than frogs, like toads were?
As Anne broke the gesture and pulled their hand away, a thin sticky trail of mucus - secreted from his skin in response to the physical contact and warmth - remained in contact with their palm and fingers. Anne's face scrunched up in what looked like mild disgust as they attempted to shake the slime away, eventually just rubbing it off on their shirt. Sprig had to admit, it was a weird sensation, shaking hands with a creature that apparently didn't have a mucous coating of its own. Anne did have some moisture on their hand, though, in the form of that clear liquid that had been oozing out of their face earlier, and now seemed to be covering parts of their body like residue. Hopefully whatever that liquid was wasn't poisonous, though his own hand actually felt a bit dry now. Still, he shrugged it off. Probably just weird alien body stuff. He met Anne's eyes again, and the two shared another small smile.
Names and a handshake. It wasn't much, but it was definitely progress. That was a win in Sprig's book.
The nice moment was interrupted by a loud, ominous growl that shook the air. Containing a yelp of fright, Sprig pulled out his slingshot and peered outside the log. Had the alpha mantis come back? Or was there another beast nearby? He listened closely for the rumble again, intent on keeping any predators from getting the drop on them.
The growl came again, louder than the first time, but… Sprig tilted his head in confusion. Listening closely, it sounded like the rumbling was coming from inside the log. That couldn't be right. The only ones in here other than tiny bugs were him and…
Looking at Anne, he saw that their arms were wrapped around their stomach region, a look of visible discomfort on their face. The skin between their mouth and eyes had also flushed red, much like his own cheeks did whenever he blushed. The growl came again, angrily this time, and it became obvious at this point where the sound was coming from. Anne groaned, clutching their stomach until the noise subsided.
"Wow. Sounds like someone's hungry," Sprig laughed. Anne acknowledged him with a glance, but didn't seem to find the situation as amusing as he did. "Well, no need to worry. The forest is filled with food. We've got plenty right here!" To demonstrate, he knocked a bit on the rotting wood within the interior of the log until he found a patch that sounded hollow, grabbed a corner and lifted it up, revealing a small network of various beetles and centipedes that all began to flee in every direction as soon they were exposed to open air. Shooting his tongue out at a small cluster, he succeeded in nabbing several at once, chewing happily on the small meal. He then grabbed one particularly plump-looking beetle he saw separated from the rest and held it out toward Anne, expecting them to snatch it out of his hand with their own tongue.
Instead, they did quite the opposite. As Sprig held the beetle out to them, they leaned backward and held their hands out, palms forward, scrunching their face up again and shaking their head side to side vigorously. Sprig faltered; had he done something wrong? "Wh-what's the matter? You don't want it?"
His confusion must've shown on his face, because after Anne scooted away a bit more, they started making gestures again: first, pointing at the beetle, and at the rest of the exposed bugs. Then, it started to make gagging sounds and stuck its tongue out, and finally made the same cross shape with its arms from before.
Sprig frowned at Anne's weird behavior. 'These bugs aren't poisonous. Wonder what the problem is… unless… oh, wait! What if they don't like bugs? Or they just can't eat them? Maybe they're a vegetarian? Yeah, that's gotta be it!'
He released the patch of rotting wood he was holding, allowing it to snap back into place and concealing nature's buffet once more. Still holding the beetle in his hand, he snatched it up himself with his tongue - no point letting it go to waste - and chewed thoughtfully for a moment.
'So no bugs, huh? That explains why they haven't eaten anything. Maybe they don't know how to survive in the wilderness. Well, guess that's where I come in!'
Sprig swallowed before speaking. "Alright, no worries, Anne. You wait right here, I'll go gather up some food for you and be back in a jiff!"
Anne didn't give any acknowledgement to his words, but watched as Sprig took a few steps outside the log and scanned the surroundings, making absolutely sure that neither the mantis nor any other predators were in the area. Once he was certain there was nothing else nearby, he bent down, coiled his muscles, and lea-
"Qium! Qbolo ilo sae zauhz?" Anne suddenly spoke behind him, startling him and almost causing him to trip. Sprig turned to see what they wanted, and saw that Anne had one of their hands half-extended toward him, like they'd been about to reach after him. Were they trying to warn him about something? Or were they concerned about him leaving?
Sprig chuckled and rubbed the back of his head. "Oh, right. Already forgot you can't understand me. How to say this…" Sprig clasped his hands together and pressed both his pointers to his mouth for a moment. "...okay. You," he began, pointing at Anne. "Staaay." He held both of his hands out, palms forward. "Heeere." He pointed down at the ground a few times. "I." He gestured to himself. "Will go hunting." He knelt down and pantomimed foraging for mushrooms. "For food." He pretended like he was putting something in his mouth and chewing on it. "For you." He finished by pointing at Anne again.
Anne watched the series of gestures and movements closely, their befuddled expression slowly clearing up as he went. By the time he was done, a look of realization dawned on their face… only to be quickly replaced by one of uncertainty. They peered out of the log and looked around warily at the surroundings, then looked back at Sprig.
Was it just him, or did they look… was it worried? Skeptical, even? Did they not want to be left alone out here? Or were they concerned about his safety?
Sprig waved back disarmingly. "Don't you worry, I'll be fine. I promise I'll be back soon, so just stay put, okay? Stay. Staaay," He reiterated with another gesture. This whole situation was admittedly starting to give him Charlie Bigbottom flashbacks. Though equating Anne to his family's old pet tarantula felt kinda rude, when he thought about it like that.
Anne, for their part, gave him another long, unsure look… but nodded slowly. Then they retreated back inside of the log and returned to a sitting position, keeping their eyes on him.
That was probably as close to a confirmation as he was gonna get. Still, Sprig hesitated for a moment when he saw Anne's melancholic body language. Maybe leaving them alone wasn't such a good idea… but then, if they couldn't hunt or forage on their own, then bringing them along would just make things take longer, especially if they could only communicate through slow gestures and miming. It would also run greater risk of one of them running into another predator. But this plan would be fine so long as he didn't go too far.
Giving Anne one more smile in the hopes of easing whatever worries they were having, Sprig leapt up into the branches and bounded away in search of some edible plantlife.
Anne watched the little frog go, tracking its pink body as it leapt and hopped through the trees until it was out of sight. Then she sighed, heavily, and took off her backpack, placing it beside her as she leaned back against the cold, damp interior of the log.
Sprig. That was the frog's name… right? It had been saying that word, 'sprig' - or at least something that sounded like the word 'sprig' - over and over while gesturing to itself. It didn't leave much room for imagination, so either that was its name, or that was the local word for 'frog'. Either way, Anne had to admit, it felt nice having something to call it other than just 'frog-thing'.
But still, she wasn't entirely sure if she should be trusting it.
Feeling conflicted, she crossed her arms and frowned in thought. Back there… she didn't really understand why she'd done what she did. Going back and risking getting mauled by a giant monster mantis on steroids, just to save a weird little frog alien she'd just met. Guilt definitely played a part, she felt. Alien or not, it was obviously a thinking, feeling person beneath the froggy bits, and she knew she would've felt awful if she'd let it get killed because of her own trap. Thinking back, though… she hadn't really been thinking about any of that at the time. She'd known it was dumb, but she'd heard it screaming, and just… acted. She didn't even realize what she'd done until she had the frog in her arms and was running back toward the log.
It was stupid, but… it was the right thing to do though, right? Sprig had obviously been grateful to her once they were out of danger, she was able to pick up on that much. They were also a talkative little fella. She didn't have the first clue what all they had been spouting at her, but after a while they seemed to get the hint that she couldn't understand what they were saying and started using gestures to communicate with her instead, after she'd done so first.
She also wasn't sure why she had shared her name with them. Maybe because Sprig had done so first, and it seemed like the polite thing to do. Maybe because they had seemed so genuine during the whole thing. Or maybe because it had been two whole days since she'd pulled her face out of a mud puddle in this world, completely alone with nothing but the clothes on her back and whatever she had in her backpack, two whole days since she'd spoken to anyone other than herself, and she was growing desperate for a connection of any kind. Hell, last night she'd gone so far as to draw a face on a rock with nail polish and pretend it was a person.
It definitely seemed dumb and risky in hindsight when she thought about it. She didn't know the first thing about this world or who or what lived in it. Who was to say that these frog people weren't murderous, soul-stealing cannibals or something? But Sprig had looked so happy when she'd told them her name. The way their face lit up… the corners of her mouth lifted involuntarily a little just thinking about it. Whoever Sprig was, they seemed like a good person. Friendly, even. She never thought she'd say that about an alien frog who'd been chasing her through the forest less than an hour prior.
But now… now she was alone again. And against her better judgment, she was staying put, waiting for Sprig to come back as she assumed he would. Hopefully with something to eat that wasn't bugs. Or actual help. Help would be great too.
In the back of her mind, a small paranoid voice was telling her that she should move now, while she had the chance, and try to shake the frog off her trail. For all she knew, they were going off to rally a killer mob to come back and lynch her. But she did her best to push that voice to the back of her mind. She didn't know why they'd been chasing after her in the first place, but Sprig didn't seem like they wanted to hurt her, at least not after she'd saved them… granted, she was the only reason that they even needed to be saved to begin with, but that was details. Sprig didn't seem to realize that fact, and if they did, they didn't seem to care.
That aside… she'd been running around this forest for two days now, and she had nothing to show for it. Nothing but scars, bruises, bug bites, and sweaty, muddy clothes that would probably need to be washed a few dozen times before they could be considered even remotely clean again. She was tired… no, not tired; she was exhausted. She hadn't slept properly in days. She was hungry, she was itchy, and her feet felt unbelievably sore from all the walking and sprinting she'd done, especially ever since she'd lost her right shoe while being chased by that giant red mantis on the first day. And while she wouldn't exactly call herself cold with how humid the weather was here, she also really wouldn't mind a warm bath and a blanket, if either were on the table. She didn't want to keep doing this, nor did she know how long she could keep doing this. She didn't know if she should be trusting Sprig… but she also didn't know if she was really willing to not trust them. Not if there was a chance that they could actually help her.
So, she waited. And waited.
After the first few minutes, she got tired of simply sitting around doing nothing. Taking another quick peek outside to make sure there was nothing else around, she pulled her phone out of her pocket and unlocked the main screen. The screen's brightness had already been reduced to its minimum setting, largely in an effort to conserve its power, but even so, the sudden light made her wince. Briefly noting the current time - 12:46 p.m. - she looked up at the corner of the screen where her phone's signal icon was located to see if there'd been any change.
No service
Still no change, then. Even so, she turned on her Doogle Maps app in the hopes of possibly getting some idea of where she was. The little blue dot that was meant to mark her current location sat lonely against a solid white background for half a minute while a loading icon span in circles at the center of the screen, only for a message to eventually pop up reading:
Your location could not be determined.
She banged the back of her head against the log and groaned. Closing the app, she stared at the phone's screen for a bit, her eyes eventually settling on the wallpaper in the background. A picture of her and her best friends, taken at the start of the school year. The image was a bit hard to see beneath all the apps Anne had on her phone though. On a whim, she reached into the side pocket on her backpack and undid the zipper, reaching in and feeling around for a moment before pulling out a photograph. The same picture she had as her phone's wallpaper, only this copy was physical. Anne held the photo delicately with both hands.
In the photo were three girls standing together, all wearing clothes with the same color schemes and with the same shield-shaped S.J.M.S. school emblem emblazoned on the fronts. To the far left of the image was Anne, wearing the exact same clothes she was in now (except much cleaner in the photo), eyes closed and grinning at the camera as she made bunny-ears with one hand and had the other wrapped around the waist of the girl next to her. Standing to her left, in the middle of the photo, was a caucasian girl several months older than Anne was, with blonde hair styled into a ponytail and a long parted bang, blue almond-shaped eyes, and a single beauty mark above her left cheek. Her clothes were almost identical to Anne's, with the exception that the collar and skirt of her uniform were bright magenta instead of purple. She was also smiling at the camera, though hers was a bit more uncertain, as Anne's dad had sprung the photo on them without warning and she hadn't had time to put her, as she called it, 'picture-face' on. Even so, the girl in the middle had her arms placed affectionately around the shoulders of both girls standing on either side of her. Lastly, the girl on the far right side of the image had olive skin, short, shiny black hair, and dark brown oval eyes. Unlike the other two girls in the photo, she was wearing a light gray school hoodie over her standard uniform, leaving only her dark forest-green skirt visible. She had one hand in her pocket and the other hanging out of frame, and was smirking while raising an amused eyebrow at the other two girls in the picture, one for her enthusiasm and the other for her worry over not looking absolutely perfect for the photo.
Beneath the image, written in purple marker ink, was the bright, cheery message: 'BFFS!'
This photo had been taken by her dad nearly nine months ago, back in September of last year, to celebrate the beginning of 7th grade for the three girls. It had come out so well that Anne had asked him to get physical copies made, two of which she'd given to her friends, keeping the last one for herself. Anne had grown an inch or so since then, as had the other two in the photo, but they all still looked almost exactly the same otherwise. She stared at the photo for several long minutes. Eventually, she decided to try something else, and opened up her and her friends' group chat on her phone's messaging app. Ignoring the long line of previously-sent messages from the past two days, none of which had gotten a reply, she quickly typed up a new one.
-Anna-Banana: Guys, if either of you are seeing this, please send something back. A thumbs up, a smiley, anything. I don't know where I am, but I need to know if you're both okay. Please.
She hit send, and watched with once-more baited breath as the message went up into the chat log next to another spinning loading icon.
Ten seconds passed. Twenty seconds. Thirty.
Then, like all the ones before it, the message she'd just typed turned red, and a follow-up error message appeared.
Your message could not be delivered.
Anne stared at that error message for a bit, then looked up at the dozens of identical error messages, directly following every one of her previous attempts to get a message out. She felt faint stinging in her eyes as tears began to well up again, unbidden. She hadn't honestly been expecting it to work this time, not when it hadn't worked every other time she'd tried. But still…
She wanted to know where she was. She wanted to know how to get home. She wanted to know if her friends were alright, if they were somewhere safe. She… really wanted someone to talk to right now. Anyone.
But the only person there was to talk to right now was a weird little pink frog kid that spoke in tongues and ribbits. And they weren't even here right now. They might not even come back. They might get killed and eaten by another one of those giant mantises roaming the forest. She might never find her way out of these swampy woods. She might never see her friends or family again. She might die here. She might…
She shook her head furiously and wiped her eyes. There was no point to thinking like that, not right now. Right now, she was… safe. Or safe-ish. It had been a really rough two days so far, but at least she'd finally met someone who seemed to be willing to help her out. She just had to wait here for Sprig to come back… however long that took. She just hoped she wouldn't be sitting here until nightfall. If there was one thing she was grateful for, it was that the days and nights in this world seemed to be just as long as the ones on Earth. At the very least, it made it somewhat easier to keep track of time without having to look at her phone constantly.
For now, she folded the picture of her friends and slid it into her pocket. Taking another look outside, Sprig was still nowhere to be seen. To pass the time, and to get her mind off the hopelessness of her situation, she opened up another app containing one of her many mobile games. Turning off the volume for now in order to save power and also keep from attracting anything with the noise, she played Slacker Stacker for a bit, the unapologetic Tetris knock-off succeeding in making her think about something other than her growling stomach and likely-imminent death at the pincer-claws of a giant insect. Still, as time went on and the lingering adrenaline slowly faded from her system, Anne could feel her eyelids drooping, her limbs gradually getting heavier and heavier and her finger movements getting progressively more unsteady. Now that she wasn't sprinting for her life for once or hiding from a monster trying to eat her, the exhaustion was quickly catching up. Without any sound from the phone, all she could hear was the steady buzzing of insects and occasional chirping of birds of some sort, all around her. As white noise, it was actually kind of relaxing.
She wasn't sure how long she sat there for, absent-mindedly tapping the shapes on her phone screen, or exactly when she dozed off. Eventually though, overcome by exhaustion, her eyelids gradually slid shut, and she drifted off into unconsciousness.
A:N / Hello again! Well, there's chapter one! A (quite admittedly lengthy) retelling of the first half of the first episode of the show, with the main change that Anne and the Amphibians don't speak the same language, and thus can't easily understand each other. Sorry if this is longer than you were expecting, but I told you I was a wordy writer. I was actually going to post this entire first episode as one chapter, but then I realized how long it was getting and decided to break it up for the sake of readers' (and my own) sanity. As you can see though, even though I added some stuff and rewrote a few things in order to better serve a written format, the actual events of the first episode so far haven't changed overly much. But we'll see what kinds of changes we get going forward. Stick around if you want to find out!
A few things to note. First of all, while it's never explicitly confirmed in the show, I'm going to be going on the assumption that Amphibia operates under the same time system as Earth. That means the same system of seconds, minutes, and hours, and the same system of one day being a full rotation of the planet, equivalent to 24 hours, and one year being a full circle around the planet's sun, equivalent to 365 (sometimes 366) days. This seems to be the canon implication anyways, with the characters referencing increments of time such as hours, weeks, and months, and with the same amount of time having passed on Earth as in Amphibia. Honestly, the likelihood of two different worlds having the exact same planetary rotational period as each other and two different cultures developing identical time-keeping systems based on that is almost as far-fetched as the whole language thing. BUT, if we think of Earth and the planet Amphibia is on as being alternate-dimension versions of the same world, then it's easier to believe. Besides, I'm not here to completely rewrite the lore of the show from scratch. Adding a language barrier (title drop) is hard enough, I'm more than content to leave the small minutiae as is. XD
Second, as far as updates are concerned, I'm optimistic, but I'm also gonna keep it realistic. Like I said earlier, this fic is mostly just a thought experiment and a way to help practice my writing skills. As much as I love love LOVE this show and its story and as much as I want to fill the void left behind by its final episode, I do have work and other responsibilities. Also video games. And family. And other shows to watch. Just… lots of stuff. I do like writing as a hobby though, just as much as those other things, so hopefully it won't be TOO long between updates. Just don't expect regular, weekly, on-schedule updates or anything like that. Really, I'll type chapters as I feel like it, and I'll post them when I feel they're ready. I feel like the quality of writing is better that way, anyways. Point is, if you like this story, then don't wait around for updates; instead, go about your normal life and treat updates as a happy surprise.
I will try to get part 2 of this chapter out soon though. So look forward to that.
Thirdly! You may have noticed that I took a bit of a weird approach when writing the dialogue of Anne from Sprig's perspective, and vice versa. The dialogue looks kinda like gibberish, doesn't it? Well, it's not gibberish, and it's not a real language either. This is my haphazard attempt at visually depicting the foreign language that both characters are hearing from each other; canonically, humans are speaking English, and amphibians are speaking, well, Amphibian. However, depending on who's perspective we're looking through, their own language reads as English, while the other's reads as confused nonsense. To do this, I actually came up with two different ciphers and coded the dialogue, accordingly, again depending on who's perspective we're on: Human Cipher from an Amphibian character's perspective, and Amphibian Cipher from a human character's perspective. If someone out there actually wanted to and had the time to spare, they could actually decipher the dialogue. I'm not smart or dedicated enough to come up with super complex ciphers though, so they're probably easy to figure out for anyone who's good at that sort of thing. So yeah, if you have the free time and feel like doing it, go nuts and try to work out all of the ciphered dialogue in these chapters! Or just plug it into some kind of automatic-decoder program if you're lazy, lol. There's no reward other than satisfaction and it won't affect the story at all other than having extra context. I just figured doing it this way was better than just writing half of the story's dialogue as nondescript indecipherable talking noises.
And lastly, you may have noticed the extended/alternate scenes I added to the story. More lines of dialogue, more descriptions, some scenes having their order switched around, whole new chase sequences, etc.. Like I said in the intro A:N, these are my way of adding more to the story beyond just being a straight rehash of the show. Hope no one minds! I don't like the idea of disappointing people who might have been expecting a one-to-one recreation of the show's scenes and dialogue, but I can't help expanding on the scenes like this and rewriting certain parts to flow better narratively. I'll try not to be too drastic with the changes when I can… but I'm a wordy writer who gets carried away very easily, so I make no promises.
If you have any observations, corrections, questions, ideas or suggestions for the chapter or story as a whole, feel free to leave a review! I read every single one that gets posted, and I try to reply to any questions posed. Feedback gives me life. Just, please, no matter what, make sure it's constructive. Pointless bashing (or even mindless praise) does nothing but waste everyone's time.
With that, I'm off to go finish the second half of this chapter while rewatching the second half of the first 15-minute episode 50+ times. And also probably rewatch the entire series again and cry at the finale for the umpteenth time. 'Till next time!
