Hello, I'm back. My life kinda sucks right now and I'm kinda depressed with work and stuff. I'm trying my best though and I'm currently looking for some direction in life; I just don't know where to look or what I'm even looking for. Regardless, that's not important. I want you all to enjoy this story that I've written and I hope you do because I worked very hard on it and put it a lot of love and effort.

If you like it, you can leave a review. Until then, I'll see you next time :)

The common grubble; A magnificent creature, its adaptability and resilience makes it the perfect living organism. Or maybe, the perfect ingredient.

Do not discredit this earthly caterpillar as something tasteless and mundane. While it may be true that the grubble alone is not that appetizing, it can be paired with almost any fruit or vegetable, any type of sauce. It could be the main dish or even just the garnish. That's how wonderful this creature is.

If you are reading, then welcome to the first step in your culinary experience. My name is Chef Ain-Doumbe and I will be guiding you through this 300-page cookbook, from the most basic fundamentals to the most expert masterpieces. And the best part is that for this entire volume, you will only be focusing on one ingredient – the grubble.

Now, pick up your chef knives, your pans and your spatulas, and get ready to transform from a beginner with zero experience to a world-class chef.

— Excerpt from Chef Ain-Doumbe's critically-acclaimed bestseller, "Fat and Flubby: The Art of Cooking". The chef is known for his cheap and easy meals that catered to the lower and unprivileged class, as well as establishing Amphibia's first free soup kitchen in light of the War of Broken Tongues. Due to his contributions, Ain-Doumbe would then invited to the Newtopian Royal Castle to cook a meal for its eternal king. He would then disappear on his way back. The case remains unsolved.

When was the last time she'd camp out in the outdoors?

Now, to Sasha, her first coming to Amphibia didn't count. She refused to call 'survival in the wilderness' as camping. Camping was supposed to be fun. Camping was supposed to be everyone sleeping in bags, telling scary stories in front of a campfire, eating smores and admiring the wonderful beauty of nature. That's true camping, at least for this girl.

Scavenging for possibly-poisonous berries and mushrooms, sleeping on the cold, wet ground and constantly fearing for your life as giant bugs and wild animals glare at you in the shadows? That's not camping. Getting her own found-family was one of the best things to have happened for her since. She really took modern shelter and conveniences for granted.

Unfortunately, no one can run from the outdoors forever. Modern building techniques could not last forever. Someday, it will all crumble to dust and left behind as nothing more than history.

Camping was inevitable. But this time, she'd go out on her own terms.

SPLAT! Sasha slapped a handful of dirt to the build in front of her. Due to Amphibia's rainforest climate, the ground was soft and malleable, making it the perfect construction material.

She pushed the dirt into the structure, adding pressure to make it stick, before rubbing her hands to shape and smooth out the edges. "And now, for the last bit of detail..." She said, letting her artistic flair blossom.

After a minute of molding, she took a step back and admired her work. It took her an hour of hard, dirty labour but every second was worth it. Satisfied, she happily walked to her creation, rubbed her hands clean on a small towel, and took a seat.

"Aaaahhhh…" She sighed blissfully.

Nearby, the Plantar grandpa Hop Pop sighed disappointedly, pinching between his eyes. "Did you really spend the entire time turning that mound of dirt into a couch?"

"Don't be a hater, Hopeye-Popeye. A girl's gotta live comfy."

In the woods of the frog-laden lands of Amphibia, the Plantars were two-thirds on their journey to the glistening and glamorous city of Newtopia. A travelling troupe consisting of three kids and an old man, it's been several weeks since they departed from their hometown of Wartwood. With every day passing, they get closer and closer to their goal.

Then, the worst-case scenario occurred; they ran out of money.

Well, they almost did. Thanks to her selfless act of safe-for-work self-exhibition, they managed to get a good amount of copper coins, which they then immediately lost half for fun. Hey, you can't win all the time.

Thankfully, the money was still sufficient for them to reach Newtopia, so long as they pinch their pennies the whole way. This meant they couldn't overspend, even with their lucky boon. One discussion led to another and that brought them here – the great outdoors!

There was no reason for them to sleep outdoors, to be honest. They literally have a mobile home. But to classic Hop Pop fashion, he believed this would be a great family-bonding activity.

He was very insistent about it.

From a nearby rustling bush, Sprig stepped out and into the campsite. He was carrying a collection of trimmed branches, neatly tied with twine. "I've got a faggot!"

Sasha shot up. "You got a what?!"

Sprig showed her his bundle of sticks. "A faggot. I wasn't sure how much we'd need." He then turned to the old frog. "Is this faggot enough, Hop Pop?"

"Yep! More than enough! That's a good faggot."

"Can you guys please stop using that word?!" Sasha complained loudly. Confused, Hop Pop and Sprig shared a glance and shrugged. It must've been a human thing.

Ignoring her, Hop Pop turned to the side. "How's the camp, Polly?"

"Almost done!" Polly 'The Eviscerator' Plantar shouted. With a hammer in his little flipper, she knocked a wooden peg deeper into the ground, then threw her hammer away. "Camp's all set up!"

Despite being a literal baby, Polly did a fine job under Hop Pop's supervision. The camp had all the necessities for outdoor accommodation: four tents for each of the Plantars (with Sasha's being larger and Polly's being smaller), an area to keep all their supplies, a net for storing food up high as to avoid animals, a few wooden logs to act as seating and finally, a campfire right at the centre, providing warmth and a place for conversation.

It was a rather decent build, much to Polly's pride. Though, she didn't set up everything; Hop Pop and Sasha did all of the heavier stuff. But she rarely ever got to participate in these kinds of activities, so she'll take any victory she could get.

Not like it mattered much. Again, they really did not need to sleep outdoors.

"You know, this reminds me of going trailing with my uncle. We did all sorts of outside activity like fishing and looking at birds. It was really nice." Sasha noted, lying back on her dirt sofa.

"Didn't take you as the outdoors type." Sprig chimed.

"I'm not." She replied frankly. "That doesn't mean I don't do any of it. I can do things outside of my interests."

Sasha may have been born in a ranch of the empty Midwestern plains but she was a West coast city girl at heart.

Hop Pop briefly inspected the camp. Once content, he nodded. "Well, from the looks of it, the camping preparations are finished! Good work, Plantars!"

"Yeah!" "Alright!"

Without looking, Sasha lazily pumped her fist. "Woohoo..."

"That leaves us with only one last thing... Sprig?"

Sprig and Hop Pop stared at one another in a way only two men – a grandfather and his grandchild – could. They then began squatting up and down, slowly at first but gradually picking up speed. At one point, croaking was mixed in, their sacs ballooning and deflating with every squat. Then, for some reason unknown to everyone but God, the two males started slapping themselves.

Sasha looked puzzled and maybe, even disgusted. "What... am I watching?" she asked, though her tone unease.

Polly scoffed. "Just boys being boys. How are you not used to it by now?"

This was not a 'boys being boys' situation. At least, that's what Sasha would assumed. It's not that would know; she's a rainbows-teddy bears-sunshine girl for life, too pure for the world, like cinnamon buns and gumdrops. In fact, in her personal opinion, out of her best friends, she's the cutest of the three and the most innocent.

An otherworldly author chuckled.

"THE HUNT!" Suddenly, the two generations shouted, snapping her out of her ego-fantasy. "THE HUNT!"

"The Hunt?"

"THE HUNT!"

Sasha pinched her forehead. "Alright, what exactly is... 'The Hunt'?"

The two stopped their weird ritual and turned to her, with Sprig smiling knowingly. "You might not believe this but we Plantars aren't just farmers. We're skilled hunters, masters of the wild! Our family has hunted and scavenged in these woods for generations."

Hop Pop nodded. "Well, not exactly these woods but the rest is correct. And we do it all through our most ancient and sacred technique – the Plantar family war dance."

That raised some brows, and by some, it's just one from the teenager.

"It's designed to both entice and disorient. I know it, Hop Pop knows it and now…" Sprig placed a hand on her hers softly. "It's your turn."

She pulled her hand away. "Don't touch me."

Despite the 'wonderful' news – that's subjective – not everyone was happy. Polly crossed her flippers and harrumphed. "Hey, how come Sasha gets to learn the dance before I do?! I'm, like, an original Plantar!"

"That's because you're still a baby." Sprig said in the most cutesy and obnoxious voice, poking his sister's squishy cheeks. "Also because you don't have legs."

"Hmm, Sprig's right. You need legs to dance." Hop Pop agreed. "We'll teach you the very moment your legs come out. Promise."

Polly scowled and turned away, grumbling. "Well, guess who's not sharing her snacks with everyone else..."

Now, for any ordinary person, being able to learn a traditional dance passed down for generations may sound interesting… But Sasha was, and as quoted, 'a West coast city girl at heart'. All this nonsense about a special hunting boogie was not high on her list of priorities.

"Welp, good luck with that. I've got business to do." Sasha nonchalantly exclaimed.

Hop Pop frowned. "Like what? We're in the middle of a forest."

"Personal business! I'm a busy girl. I got things to do." And by said 'things', she pulled out a familiar-looking cat-themed device. "I've got a date with destiny."

Sprig blinked. "You mean your little box?"

"If you mean my 'phone', yes. It's been too long since I held this little baby of mine."

"That's a baby?"

"Figure of speech, Sprig. Figure of speech." She replied. "Besides, it's a better use of my time than going around with you 'hunters' and your 'little war dance'."

Hop Pop frowned, as he usually would. Sasha was being difficult again, which meant only one thing; he needed to bring out the big guns. Twisting to the right, he patted Sprig in the back and smiled. "Say, Sprig, I just got a grand idea! Why don't you teach her the dance?"

It took a few seconds for him to process that but when he did, Sprig gasped, stars zooming in his eyes. "Oo, ooo! That's a great idea, Hop Pop!"

Sasha smirked and rolled her eyes. "Why? Because you're too old to teach me yourself?"

"No, because you won't say no to Sprig."

Now, it was Sasha's turn to frown. "W-wha—I say no to Sprig all the time!"

Hearing that, Sprig whimpered. His smile turned to a deep, saddened frown and his eyes enlarged by at least 16%, glistening under the light from the rapid build-up of saltwater. He even took off his cap, revealing his orange scruffy hair, and held it under his hand like a dog begging for a walk. "D-does that mean you d-d-don't want to learn the P-P-Plantar family war dance?"

Sasha stared at him, hearing his occasional whimper and mewl. She closed her eyes and sharply breathed in, hissing audibly.

Be strong, Sasha. Be strong.

Sprig nudged her arm with his head, his hair tickling her skin lightly.

"... No, I'd love to."

"Success!" Immediately, the facade disappeared, replaced by a pair of arms punching up in rapturous joy.

"But remember, you two need to be careful. This ain't the same forests as the one in the valley." The old frog wagged his finger. "Who knows what dangerous predators could be lurking in the shadows, just waiting to pounce at ya when your pants are down?!"

Polly smirked. "Heh, good thing I don't wear pants."

Sasha, who did wear pants, was just as unbothered. "Like what?"

He shrugged. "Who knows. That's why I'm asking. See you two in an hour! Polly, make sure to watch the camp."

"Am I allowed to use deadly force?!"

"To a reasonable degree, yes."

The baby ball of destruction cackled. "Hahaha! This is going to be super great!"

Sasha was no stranger to camping. Outside of her first few days in Amphibia, she has gone camping before with her uncle. The ranch was next to a large forest so whenever she visited, they'd often take treks through these woods, sometimes even sleeping there for the night. She was never a big fan of camping in general but she enjoyed the experience regardless.

However, her exposure to camping was limited to the 'camp' part. Hunting, on the other hand, was not a common side activity in the modern camping experience. Nowadays, most people brought various foods with them, either preserved or fresh. At most, they'd forage for berries, nuts and mushrooms, and do a little fishing. But actual hunting?

Well, watching professionals on TV obviously did not count.

Far from their campsite, Sasha and Sprig walked around the dense flora, climbing small hills and leaping over shallow streams. Sasha, holding a long stick, whacked the nearby leaves out of boredom. "So, how do you this? You got a spear... maybe a knife... or even a—yeah, I don't know what you guys do here."

Sprig stopped and turned to her with a tee-hee. Wearing his trademark smile, he then slapped the stick out of her hand. "H-h-hey!"

"WEAPONS ARE FOR BARBARIANS!" Sprig shrieked, startling the girl. "Hunting is about becoming one with nature, absorbing its essence. Feel the rhythm of the earth, the drums of its heart!"

Sprig edged closer, climbing onto her and rubbed his slimy hand on her face. "Do you feel it, Sasha? Are you feeling it?"

"No." She replied before shoving him away. "And get off! You know I don't like all this touchy stuff!"

Thankfully, Sprig wasn't offended. This was just Sasha's way of showing love – using an unnecessary amount of physical force. Back on the ground, Sprig cleared his throat. "The Plantar way of hunting involves 3 steps. The first step to a good hunt is tracking your prey. The soil is a buffet of clues! You can find almost anything just by tasting it."

To prove his point, Sprig scooped up a handful of dirt from beneath him. "Here, try some."

Sasha started at the dirt, then stared at him. She stared at the dirt and to him again, though her expression changing to a more incredulous look. This boy was serious and there was no doubt about it.

"... Yeah, I'm not going to do that." She said, pushing the dirt aside. "Why don't you do the hunting and I do the watching? I mean, you are the expert."

Sprig chuckled. "I know you're trying to just skip it but I love how you call me an expert! You're missing out though." Without waiting any further, he plopped the dirt into his mouth; rocks, sticks and all. "Mmm... Hm-hmm... Mm-mmm!"

One can wonder what dirt actually tasted like. It's not actually disgusting as most would assume. In fact, it had a somewhat neutral flavour, mixed with nutty and earthy undertones. There were no strong or distinct tastes; no tanginess or tart. It was complex and messy with very little actually standing out, mostly from the fresh and slightly bitter grass and leaves, or the dry sharpness of bark.

The otherworldly author refused to comment how he knew this.

Sprig swallowed the dirt, even though he didn't have to. "Oh yeah, it's all coming together. This way!"

As they dashed through the woodlands, led by Sprig, he'd periodically stop and take more samples for his taste buds. Not all of it was dirt; he'd include the moss from the trees or even small stones that laid in their path, important for a balanced diet. Each time, however, disgusted Sasha but at least she didn't have to do it herself.

After a few minutes of running around, eventually they found what they were looking for, much to Sprig's delight. "Behold – our prey! Nature always provides!" He exclaimed.

And what nourishment it was. Wriggling in a bush in front of them, an eclair-looking caterpillar popped out, mewing in a high-pitched voice. One fell out of the bush, landing face-first into the ground. Its legs wiggled pointlessly as the creature was left upright in an unnatural manner.

Sasha cringed at the scene. "Ugh, I don't like how they wiggle."

Sprig laughed excitedly. "Hohoho! We just found ourselves some grubbles. They're supposed to be really tasty with a lot of different ways to prepare them."

"Cool, cool-cool. So… what? Do we just grab them and put them in a basket, or…?"

Sprig gasped. "That's inappropriate! What if they're dangerous or poisonous or venomous or poisonous?!"

"You said 'poisonous' twice."

"There's a lot of poisonous things!" Sprig exclaimed. "When hunting wildlife, it's important that you're not careless. If you mess up, you could lose your life! Like Uncle Jimmy!"

Sasha raised a brow. "Yeah, I don't know who that is."

"He's an uncle of ours, twice removed. He lost his life and life savings when hunting a turducken." Sprig then snorted grimly. "The turducken knew a lot about banking policies."

"Yeah, I'm not even going to go into that." Sasha retorted. "So, fine. What's the proper procedure then?"

Sprig smiled. Finally, Sasha was getting into it. "Step two of the patented Plantar way of hunting: use your surroundings."

Unprompted, Sprig looked around, examining his general area. In his mind, thousands of plans and formulas flashed every second, his brain generating ideas in greater numbers than even the think-tank of the Manhattan Project. In fact, they were appearing too fast and too frequent that Sprig didn't have time to see them. His genius was too fast for even him.

In time, he did concoct a plan, one so ingenious that it brought a proud tear in the eyes of his ancestor.

He diggy hole.

Sasha facepalmed. "Is this really necessary?"

"Hush, Sasha! You do not interrupt a Plantar in the middle of a hunt!" Sprig barked. Continuing from he left off, he dug it a bit deeper and once satisfied, he placed a hollowed-out log from the bush to the hole. "And now, finally, the last and most important step: the dance."

Ah, right, he did say something about a dance.

Sprig readied himself. "Watch closely and don't miss even a single moment! The dance is about connecting to the harmony of nature. The world is playing a song and it wants us all to listen. Focus on the music and it'll lead you right straight into your prey!"

Sasha rolled her eyes and waved. "Right, right, whatever. Just do your dance."

The boy frog nodded and focused, his feet digging across the earth.

It was then, Sasha heard music.

"Wha..."

It was then that Sasha Waybright witnessed the majestic Plantar hunting dance. When performed by a seasoned huntsman, the dance was one of the most awe-inspiring and utterly contrived events to behold.

Sprig paid close attention to the heartbeat of nature, its rhythm bumping with his own. From the fluttering of the leaves to the falling of dewdrops, the scratching of ants and beetles to the pecking of woodpeckers; Sprig did not move in any choreographed set. Nay, he simply listened to what Mother Nature had to offer, for she was the singer – the main attraction. He danced only to her whims.

And for some reason, Sasha couldn't look away.

She observed his technique; it seemed mindless and chaotic, but she could feel herself swayed by its hypnotic groove. When Sprig tilted left, she tilted left. When he swung to the right, she followed almost instantly.

Left. Right.

Left. Right.

Up. Down.

Up. Down.

Left.

Right.

Up.

Down.

Sasha blinked and suddenly, she was gone.

If there was a word to describe what she felt, it would be 'warm'.

Warm was the breeze she felt on her skin, the air humid and mellow. It was not too hot nor too cold – just right, as it was made to be. The leaves around her rustled to the light wind, its branches bending and bopping rhythmically. Chirps of crickets she could hear, playing their hidden symphony of little tunes, and the grass beneath her cracked as she moved.

When she opened her eyes, the first colour was a vibrant green of nature, almost like glistening emeralds. The second was the clear blue dewdrops that hung from every surface, followed by the brown and grey of sticks and stones. And all of it were illuminated by the pleasant ray of sunlight, pouring from beyond a hole that bored through the dense stone ceiling above her.

"Hey there, squirt!" A husky, well-armoured toad greeted. Despite his red slitted eyes and threatening horns, he carried with him an affable posture, even with the large hammer on his back. Before he could say any further, immediately, like reflex, she pushed a finger over his large mouth and shushed.

"Sh-sh-sh-shhhhh!" She hushed with a familiar yet unrecognized voice. "Shush. You're going to scare them." She whispered, all while hiding behind an unsuspecting bush.

The toad raised a brow, confused. Kneeling beside her, he continued hushedly, though with his mouth partially stamped. "Vad arge yvoo doimng?"

She removed her finger and turned away. "I'm observing."

"Cool!" He chirped, only to slap his mouth close once more. He leaned closer and asked. "Observing what?"

She did not answer. Instead, she nudged her head to across the bush and toad followed her gaze.

Beyond their hiding spot was a clearing with soft grass blanketing the ground beneath. With no obstructions, the light shone onto the empty plains, brightening the area fully. However, the clearing itself was not the main point of interest; it was what lied in it, just near the other end.

There were, to the toad's surprise, three or so bipedal creatures. They were frighteningly tall even when hunched, and were covered from head to toe in an astonishingly dense coat of green. They had an almost alien-like appearance with the glowing blue eyes and irregular horns, but the toad didn't feel threatened by them at all.

"Homo Bryopthyta, or Moss Men for short." She exclaimed. "A perfect symbiosis of flora and fauna. They're a fascinating species with a unique biology, having a thick layer of plant matter growing out of them, essentially forming their own miniature ecosystem in their bodies. They're like walking, living forests."

"We use materials from them to manufacture medicine but it takes a while for it to regrow so while waiting, gardeners like me kinda let them tend the garden. Along with taking care of themselves, they're really good at taking care of the environment too. Honestly, out of everything in this garden, you could say they're the uno numero prize."

"When not harvesting, we usually just ignore them. That was, until a week ago!" She gleefully, though quietly, shrieked, grabbing the toad's cheeks. "I just discovered something amazing!"

Although initially shocked, he then smiled. "Cool! What is it?"

She pulled his face closer. "They communicate... via dancing."

"... I don't get it."

She let go – more like shoved him away, really – and chuckled pompously. "Moss Men don't speak. Honestly, we don't even know if they can speak. And with them being part-flora, we always assumed they communicate similar to plants through complex nutrient-distribution systems and shared electrical signals. But it's not like we're sure." She explained. "But one day, as I was lugging around fertilizer, I saw the most incredible thing! Just off my usual path, I noticed them communicate with one another through intricate dances and subtle body language. Isn't that exciting?!"

The toad blinked. She waited excitedly for his response, and simultaneously, he began thinking of one. He glanced left and right, coughed in his fist and ended by scratched his bum. "Yeah... Okay."

She frowned. "You don't get a word I said, did you?"

"Not a clue."

She scoffed. "Outside of their bodily products, we don't do nearly enough research on them. This can be huge! Imagine taming them like livestock! We could aid in their reproduction, increasing our raw materials output! We could maximize medicine production and promote better and more efficient regrowth. We could even train them for battle! I mean, as far as we know, they're essentially immortal, so they'd be unstoppable steeds."

"Alright, alright! I get it! It's a big deal." The toad fussed. "I'm not exactly the plant guy and you know that. The only brainy thing I do is tinker my hammer."

To make his point, he pulled out and showed his oversized, heavy mallet. "And by the way, I recently added a rocket function to this baby. I'm technically not allowed to mess with military equipment but technically, it's 'Prince Blueblood's' project. I'm just the unpaid test pilot."

She snapped her fingers repeatedly. "Hey, hey! Don't go off-tangent! We're talking about my super-amazing discovery right now, not your explicit R-rated bromance with Blue-Butt!"

"I do not have an 'explicit R-rated bromance' with Andri—!"

Again, she slammed her finger on his lips. "Shush! We're moving past that. Gotta keep things PG-13."

The toad rolled his eyes and waved her hand away. "Hmph, fine... So, you found out they talk by dancing. Now what?"

She giggled darkly, tapping her fingers against one another. "Now, I have to decipher than language of theirs."

"And how much progress have you made on that?"

"None at all." She said, as a matter of fact. She then pulled a large journal from behind her and flipped through the pages. "But I've been watching them for 3 days straight and noting down all their moves. It's only a matter of time."

She giggled in a manner only an unhinged socially-awkward nerd would do, finishing with a squicky snort. Seeing her giddy made him happy but to be honest, it also worried him slightly.

"Cool! Glad to see you're doing something productive in this line of work." He praised. "Oh, and by the way, they're leaving."

"WHAT?!" She screamed and not so quietly at that. Bursting from her bush cover, the Moss Men turned to her, startled, and urgently ran away in a panic. She gasped and chased after them, like predator and prey. "NOOOOOOOOO! COME BACK! I'M A FRIEND! A FRIIIIEEEEND!"

Behind her, the toad laughed wholeheartedly. "That's not how you make friends, Red! Ha-haha!"

His voice echoed in the open space, trailing behind her. As she left further away from him, the laughter gradually dumbed down and the even the echoes turned silent. The blue light of the Moss Men slowly disappeared into the distance and no matter how fast she ran, she could not catch. As she ran, more and more of the world around her shifted out of view.

Until nothing but darkness was left.

Eventually, she slowed down and stopped, her knees shaking and her lungs gasping for air. She looked to the beyond but saw nothing but more darkness, as far as her eyes could reach.

"Hah... Hah..." she gasped, allowing her body to rest. She closed her eyes and when reopened, they were bright pink.

"You were always a bit weird and antisocial. You never really did fit in – never figured out social conventions and whatnot." She said out loud. "Honestly, getting a job as a royal gardener was a lucky break for you. You were diligent and well-educated, despite the lack of connections. And the non-judgement of the gardens was something you sought."

"At least, that's what you thought you wanted. But really, you craved the kind of attention and friendships others have; you just didn't know how. Maybe that's why you were stuck with only those two. You were so afraid of losing them, for once you've tasted such sweetness, it was almost impossible to live without it anymore."

She stared at her hands, its pink skin standing out in the black void. "How ironic, that that was exactly how it ended. It makes one wonder—"she blinked for a moment but when her eyes flapped open, her hands were replaced with a fleshy, warm-blooded beige. "—if history will repeat itself."

"What do you think, Sasha Waybright?"

She blinked and once opened, was but blinding light.

When she opened her eyes, the scene has changed. Gone was the empty and foreboding void of space; now, a familiar forest was in its place. She was also in a weird pose – her arms were stretched above her and her hands left bare, and her entire body was in a sort of 'wiggly' motion, like a wave but vertical.

She also tasted garlic in her mouth. Not sure if that was related.

In front of her, Sprig, in his own weird pose, breathed heavily but satisfied. "And so, hah, hah... the dance... has been completed."

He then turned to her direction, wiping the sweat from his brow. "Did you see all of that, Sasha?" He asked but upon seeing her state of being, raised both sweaty brows in surprise."Sasha?"

Sasha blinked, reality setting in. "… Huh? What the—?! Where am I?! What time is it?! Did anyone else just black out?!" She paused and touched lips. "Why do I taste garlic?!"

Quick to the uptake, Sprig gasped. Could it be? He's never actually seen it before but what if? "Whoa! You entered a trance! You must've been affected by the dance!"

Sasha stared at him and after a few moments of silence, laughed. "Huh?! Me?! Affected by a funny dance? Come on, don't be crazy. A dance isn't going to put me out of commission. That's crazy!" She said, waving it off. Though, her confidence waned just as instantly. "T-that is crazy, right?"

Sprig shook his head. "Nope. In fact, you're not even the first. It's said that the dance can affect those who are destined to a life of great tragedy..." He explained grimly…

"Or maybe you're just allergic to bees." He stared at the teenager. "Are you allergic to bees?"

"I-I don't know. I've never been stung by a bee before."

"Huh, I guess we'll never know." Sprig shrugged. "Still, did you at least see how I did the dance?"

Sasha breathed in sharply and scratched the back of her head. "Well… O-only the first parts. I kinda got into that trance soon after."

Sprig nodded. "That's a start! How about I do it again?" Without waiting for a response, he got into position. "Now, watch carefully…"

He began the sacred ritual and Sasha's whole body slowly waved with him.

Left. Right.

Left. Right.

Up. Down.

Up. Down.

Left—

"Stop, stop, stop!" Sprig suddenly shouted, surprising Sasha out of her stupor.

"W-w-what?" She gasped, confused and, oddly enough, a bit dazed. "Why'd you stop?"

Sprig hummed. He wasn't sure of the best way to say this. "Yeah… I don't think this going to work."

"What? Why?!"

She didn't understand. Why was Sprig suddenly hesitant about teaching her? Sure, she wasn't really that interested in the dance before – and kinda still wasn't – but it irked her even more to be denied of the opportunity, especially since he was so enthusiastic at showing her the method early on. Why the change of heart?

Sprig attempted to avoid eye contact. "I don't think you can… do the dance…"

…

…

Sasha frowned. "What?"

"When I try to show you the dance, you get affected. And if you get affected, that means you can't actually see me do the dance. So there's no way for me to teach you."

Sasha's eyes widened. That was the roadblock? "Then give me an instruction manual and I'll learn it myself."

Sprig shook his head disappointedly. "There's no such thing. It's a tradition. It's not like we write this down or anything. The Plantar family war dance has been passed down in-person for generations. It requires the dancer to be 'one with nature', so not everyone has the same dance. It's always a bit different from frog to frog."

Shocked, Sasha took a step back. "S-so what?! You're telling me there's no way for me to learn the dance?!"

"T-there could be a way!" Sprig argued in an attempt to salvage the situation. "I just don't know what it is…"

That wasn't a sufficient answer. Growling, Sasha threw her hands in the air, frustrated, and turned around. "Well, ain't that just great?! This has been nothing but a waste of time! Ugh, I knew I shouldn't have agreed to this!"

Sprig, in an act of sympathy, placed his hand on her arm. "I'm sorry, Sasha. I know how much you wanted to learn it. I just didn't expect this to happen. But it's fine! It's just a dance. I mean, it's not just a dance – it's actually one of our most sacred traditions – but it's just a dance."

Sasha turned to him and scoffed. "Tch, that's not it, squirt. I could've spent the past hour going through my phone but instead, I left it at the campsite. I lost an hour over nothing."

"Oh…" Sprig muttered sadly.

The two avoided eye contact – Sprig feeling remorse over Sasha's petty predicament and Sasha feeling unjustly annoyed over her loss. And for several long seconds, there was only an eerie quietness between them. Sprig stared at his feet, occasionally kicking the dirt away, whereas Sasha looked to the trees, her arms crossed and her jaw clenched to a frown.

Closing her eyes, Sasha sighed. "Sorry for yelling. Why… why don't you go on ahead?"

Sprig swivelled to her, stunned. "Are you sure? Shouldn't we head back together?"

She waved at his suggestion. "It's fiiiiine. I can handle hunting on my own. We'll cover more ground that way and I don't have to hunt the Plantar way to get us some grub, right?"

"I guess..." Sprig agreed, though with a muffled and displeased tone. "Be careful, alright? And you don't have to worry about the grubbles; they can't leave the hole."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, 'mom'. Let's just split up already." She whined. "And besides, you don't have to worry about me. I have the greatest weapon known to man."

The boy's eyes twinkled. "Ooo, what's that?"

Sasha smirked. "A stick."

Sprig frowned but ignored it. Grabbing a couple of grubbles with him, he turned around, waved and leapt away – as frogs do. Sasha waved back and watched until he disappeared into the foliage, finally left by her lonesome.

All alone, her waving hand slowed and her cocky yet self-assured smirk fell. She laid her hand on her chest, just above her heart, and gripped her shirt tightly.

What an awful feeling...

As fun as it'd be to go hunting for fresh grub or gathering berries like a gamer in a play through of the next-generation indie survival crafting game, it'd be very unwise to leave their home base undefended or at least, unattended. After all, that's where all their stuff was at.

Thus, the responsibility was fairly allocated; 80% of the Plantars would go out to scavenge for resources – hopefully, the non-venomous kind – and the remaining 15% would stay behind to keep watch. Thus, Polly stood guard by herself, not counting Bessie.

For the record, this did not mean that Polly was worth a measly 15% of the group's power. No, it's just that Sasha held an unfathomable 55% by herself, on account of her being absolutely feral.

At the camp, Polly was fidgety. She glanced left and then, glanced right. Once she was sure that no one was watching – again, not counting Bessie – she smiled and removed her bow.

Polly without her bow looked cursed.

She then shoved her flipper into her bow and rummaged through its opening and after a few seconds, she pulled out what could be described as the most unremarkable yet exceptionally cliché representation of a chocolate-chip cookie. "Hello, beautiful!" She said with a chuckle before taking small adorable bites. "Nibble, nibble, nibble~"

Nibble all the way.

RUSTLE, RUSTLE...

The bushes nearby rustled. Polly quickly stopped her nibbling and turned to the bush, shoddily hiding her cookie back in her bow, its crumbs sprinkling the ground near her. "I wasn't having snacks, I swear!"

RUSTLE, RUSTLE... The rustling continued. And from the shade, a pair of glowing orange eyes could be seen.

And then, another pair.

"… If that's you, Sasha, I'm not giving up my cookie."

The creature felt offended and charged in with a roar.

"W-W-WAAAAAAAHHH!"

Back to the titular character, Sasha stood over the hole Sprig dug, watching as the gummy-looking worms wriggle in the bottom. She couldn't properly witness what occurred when he showed his sick dance moves but whatever it was, it caused the grubbles to go from the safety of their bush to the deathly shallow pit.

Did they crawl into the hole by themselves? Sasha shook her head; that sounded far more fantastical than she could believe. Still, regardless of what happened, the dance did succeed, trapping the wildlife into the trap.

With a finger scratching her chin, Sasha began thinking. "Okay, so... How did he do it again?" She whispered to herself, thinking back on all his steps. She didn't care about the ritual – not that it mattered or anything – but if it worked, it worked.

Also, she felt a tad guilty about stabbing these things with a pointy stick.

"Step one; track your prey." She recalled, snapping her finger. The way Sprig did it was by consuming his surroundings and tasting its essence. All animals, no matter how big or small, whether flying, swinging through treetops or just plain-old running, left a trace of their existence behind. So long as you were real and physical, you'd always leave a memory.

Sasha looked at the dirt below her.

…

…

"Well, they're right here so that finishes step one, hahaha!" She hastily exclaimed, followed by a nervous laugh. Clearing her throat, she repeated the second step. "Moving on to step two; use your surroundings."

This meant diggy hole, the simplest and most reliable of techniques. You could attempt to construct any trap of your choice from the resources around you, but nothing was more resource-friendly and easy to make than the famed diggy hole.

Kneeling down, Sasha began shovelling out mounds of dirt nearby the bush of which the grubbles resided. This would've been easier if she had a shovel or at least, a spade, but the boy frog did it with his bare hands, so it shouldn't be too hard, right?

Keep in mind that the boy frog was an actual farmer by trade, while Sasha was a pompous and pretty city girl who, despite frequently visiting her uncle's farm, has never done an honest day's work in her pre-Amphibia life.

CRACK. "Ah! I chipped a nail! Ugh, I'm so getting a manicure after this!" She whined, having one of her nails missing its edge. It didn't hurt but the ugliness harmed her fragile teenager spirit.

Yet, she continued, creating the most impressive diggy hole a single 14-year-old girl could make. And with no extra chipped nails at that too – just dirtied hands and dirtied clothes. So no different than the chores Hop Pop regularly made her do anyway.

"And now, step three; the... the dance." Sasha nodded, taking a step back.

In a straight line, there was Sasha, the hole, the bush that housed the grubbles, and the grubbles themselves. The dance, at its current position, would lure the grubbles out of the bush and towards Sasha. But with the hole in between, they would instead fall into the earthly pit, never reaching their destination.

Ideally, that's how it's supposed to go. Theoretically.

"Cha, cha-cha! Cha, cha-cha! Cha, cha-cha, cha-cha!" Sasha sang. There, she performed the most obscure and awkward boogie-woogie known to man. It was a completely new dance move that none had ever seen, and without any of the perfection or clean-up made by countless dancers before her. Normally, this would not be how she danced but there was a reason as to why now.

First, the dance Sprig performed could not have been a human dance. Otherwise, she would've been hypnotised years ago. Second, it had to be flexible and made for the outdoors. Most modern dances require even footing and solid ground, both of which not available in the middle of the forest. So, she needed to make something up.

And third, and quite possibly the most important, it needed to be frog-like.

She had no idea how to do that last one.

"And... TA-DAA!" Sasha cheered, standing on one knee and both arms spread up and out. Her hands shook in a jazzy fashion and if you looked close enough, you'd see stars twinkling around her. Or maybe that was just a figment of one's imagination.

The bush shook and one grubble even stuck its head out, much to Sasha's delight.

It then promptly went back in.

Fuming red, Sasha stomped her foot and began holding back her frustrated screams. It did not last long, opting to a silent yell and a banging of one's head onto the nearby tree. "Argh, this is so stupid! WHY AM I GETTING WORKED UP OVER—"

CRACK. "—A—"

CRACK. "—STUPID—"

CRACK. "—DANCE?!" She yelled with gritted teeth, each head slam cracking the hard bark more.

After several slams to the point of cracking the hard bark, Sasha paused briefly, taking a few exhausted breaths. Slowly, she dropped like a sack, her back lying the tree and her forehead miraculously unbruised. The forest returned to silence, chirping and buzzing being its only noise. "I mean, Sprig said it himself! It doesn't matter that I can't do the dance. It's just some old Plantar tradition. I'm not even related to them; I just barged into their life."

That's right. At the end of the day, she wasn't a true Plantar. She was an outsider that they adopted into the family out of the kindest of their hearts. She was Sasha Waybright, sometimes even Sasha Waybright Plantar, but never just Sasha Plantar. A girl from another world, who got involved into things beyond her reach.

No amount of family shrubs, shared bedrooms or name changing was going to change that. She was, and will always be, falling short.

Following more deep breaths, she sighed. "Hah... Who am I fooling?" She mumbled quietly. This was never going to work.

Just then, one of the grubbles sensed her distressed and crawled up to her. It nuzzled its eclair-looking head onto her arm, as if showing sympathy. To be honest, it did not make her feel better. "Please don't console me. You're supposed to be food..."

Then again, it was a bit cute. Maybe she should adopt one. People adopted chickens, so this was almost similar, right?

"AAAAAAAHHHHHH!"

Suddenly, she heard a shriek. It was a girlish shriek but with a pinch of boyish charm, as was from someone who hadn't undergone puberty yet. That meant only one person.

Sasha's eyes widened. "What the—SPRIG!"

Breaking out of her depression impression, she rushed back to camp as fast as she could. It was a good thing she remembered her way back, otherwise she would've been lost like her first few days in Amphibia. Skipping over logs and large stones, it didn't take her long to get back, only to find the camp partially thrashed.

"Sprig? Hop Pop? POLLY?!" Sasha shouted, calling out to her adopted family. Yet, no one replied.

As she continued looking through the decimated campsite, she came across Bessie, fortunately unharmed but quivering fearfully. Easily, Sasha soothed the snail, speaking softly. "Hey, hey, hey, girl. Shh..."

While calming down the poor snail, Sasha inspected her surroundings; the entire camp was ruined, its tents in disarray and the fire smothered to ash. However, what stood out the most were the tear marks on the tree sides and ripped sheets, indicating a somewhat violent confrontation.

It didn't take a genius to figure out that the campsite was attacked by a beast of sorts. Though, the lack of blood gave her hope; they were alive somewhere.

Her fist clenched in rage and she immediately turned red. "GRRRR, WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO?!" In anger, the pink-eyed teenager punched a nearby tree, her fist smashing through the living wood like cardboard. "OWOWOWOW!"

This has been a disaster. First, she got pulled away from her phone, then she discovered she couldn't perform an integral family ritual, and now the said family were missing and possibly about to be nature's supper.

She was running out of time.

"Sasha..."

She needed a way to track them down. But how...

"Saaaasha…"

If only Sprig was here. She'd never say it but she could really use his help right about now.

"Follow the true way of the hunter…"

Yeah, kinda like that.

Sasha blinked. "Sprig?"

Out of nowhere, ghostly blue clouds began to form, swirling into a dense mass at a singular point. Sasha watched as this heavy fog concentrated itself and in an anticlimactic blip, the disembodied head of a familiar pink frog appear. His body was nowhere to be seen and he was surrounded by the same blue ethereal glow.

The disembodied head smiled. "Hey there, Sasha! How's it hanging?"

Sasha gawked, her blood turning pale and her eyes widening to the size of saucers. The worst case scenario had come to pass. "SPRIG?! HOLY PANCAKES, ARE YOU DEAD?! OH GOD, YOU ARE DEAD!"

"What? No. I'm not the real Spri—"

Immediately, Sasha wailed, tears bursting out of her like a detonated dam. She fell on her knees and sobbed heart-rendingly. "OH DEAR, NOOOOO! I'M SO SORRY, SPRIG! SPLITTING UP WAS MY IDEA AND HAD I BEEN THERE, YOU WOULDN'T BE DEAD!"

"OH, WHY WAS I SUCH A FOOL?!" She cried. "A FOOOOOOOOOOOOL!"

SLAP! SLAP! "Sasha! Snap out of it!" The spirit of Sprig Plantar yelled, poofing a hand into existence and slapping her across the face twice.

Sasha recoiled in shock, caressing her sore reddened cheeks. "OW! Hey! Ghosts can't slap people! That's, like, breaking ghost rule uno!"

"I'm. Not. Dead." He exclaimed with a point. "At least, I hope I'm not. I'm just a stress-induced hallucination brought up by your insecurities."

Sasha blinked. "S-so you're not real?"

"I'm as real as you want me to be which, in this case, pretty real."

… Yeah, she could work with that.

Sasha gave a sigh of relief. "Oh thank god. That really scared me, hehe." She chuckled, the despair leaving as fast as it came. She then wiped the tears off her face, blushing bashfully. "At least the real you didn't see me cry like that because—Phew! That would've been embarrassing!"

"I don't know. I think I'd be honoured." Not-Sprig replied. "Though, enough of that. Sasha, you need to find us! Save us from the beast!"

Sasha huffed. "Gggargh! And how am I supposed to do that?!"

"Track us as if we're your prey. Use the Plantar family techniques."

Sasha gasped. "But that involves eating mud!"

"Is that really worse than us being dead?!"

"Alright, alright! Fine..." She said, much to her displeasure. "By the way, I prefer the other stress-induced hallucination. Why couldn't she help me instead? She gave me superpowers!"

Sasha wasn't sure what powers could help her but it's better than nothing, right? Not-Sprig, however, seemed to have a hard time answering. "Oh. Well, she's a bit, uh... preoccupied. Don't worry about it."

She would've poked deeper into that but unfortunately, she was quite literally on a time limit. Deciding to let it go for now, Sasha got back on her knees and scooped a handful of dirt into her hands. She inspected it, as if to stall for time.

Yep, that's dirt. Mother Nature's flesh; her tracks of lands. Put it in a cup and it becomes a cup of dirt.

Disgusted and horrified, Sasha closed her eyes and shoved the life-giving paste into her mouth like there's no tomorrow. The mixture danced a bit on her tongue and gums before eventually, riding down her gullet. She shivered, traumatised. "Guuuuh, this is worst thing I've ever done..."

Not-Sprig frowned. "You're not supposed to eat it! You're supposed to taste it! Examine the notes."

"YOU COULDN'T HAVE TOLD ME THAT EARLIER?!"

Round 2 then.

Her mouth full, Sasha fell even lower, clutching her chest for dear life. She swirled it around a bit with her tongue a bit, getting a feel of soil, before eventually swallowing it. She forgot to spit it out. "Bleeegh...! I-I think I'm gonna puke..."

But then, revelation struck! A distinct chemical had reached her taste buds, sending signals to her brain and through the power of cross-referencing, she instantly recognised what it was, her eyes widening in shock. "Wait a minute... I know this taste! SOMEONE HAD SNACKS AND DIDN'T SHARE!" She loudly yelled, both in anger and in euphoria. Eating a smaller dollop of dirt, she got all the information she needed. "And it's that way!"

Not-Sprig spun in the air with glee. "Good job, Sasha! You did the first step! Now go and find our family!"

Operation: 'Save the Plantars' was a go!

Operation: 'Save the Plantars' has hit a snag.

Fuelled by familial bonds and pure hunger for snacks, Sasha Waybright embarked on an epic 20-minute quest to save her adopted froggy family. Previously, after eating a bunch of dirt, she had found a clue and chased after the trail without further delay. Aided by her semi-trustworthy companion – the disembodied head of Sprig – she quickly set off across the dark and gloomy forest of Amphibia.

From time to time, she would participate in the gorging on the environment, consuming bits of here and there as she traversed through the woods. The most she tasted, the stronger the trail. And this time, she remembered to not swallow.

After much running, she finally reached her target; just before entering a clearing, she heard voices nearby.

"Polly, are you eating a biscuit right now?!" A grouchy old man chastised.

"I EAT WHEN I'M STRESSED!" A much younger girl shouted back.

Sasha gasped and halted. Slowly, she peeked through the bushed and what she saw was nothing short of horrific. There, she saw an unsettling amount of skeletons, mostly frogs, their flesh stripped down to the white dried bone. These all littered across the flat ground, lying half-buried in front of a large tree with deep claw marks on its bark.

From her shade, she saw the Plantars, tied in some vines. The youngest of them had a cookie in her mouth, nibbling it for dear life. Sasha frowned at the sight. "So it was Polly! That selfish brat!"

Just as she was about to step into the open, her eyes glowed. The hair on her skin stood and without pause, she leapt back, staying in hiding. Her instinct had flared; there was danger.

On cue, a monster jumped in out of nowhere, its paws slamming the ground with the powerful thump. The creature was something out of the stuff of nightmares; a wolf-like being with dark grey fur, donning a thick rough mane and barring dagger-like teeth. However, what made the creature demonic were its 4 glowing eyes, followed by a pair of blood-coloured mandibles and hard chitin shells along its spine. All of this finalised with the gigantic scorpion tail behind it, ending with a hooked stinger as large as her head.

"GRROOOOOOAAAAARRRR!" The monster roared, its jaw splitting into two.

Ooo, she hated that.

"What the Christmas pumpkin pie is that?!" She asked in a harsh whisper.

"From the looks of it, probably a Scorpileo – half lion, half scorpion."

"... Why?"

Sprig stared. "What?"

"Why is it like this?" Sasha asked so quietly, one almost couldn't hear it. "My whole time here, I had to deal with giant insects, giant crabs, giant birds and at one point, even a giant ferret. Why is there suddenly this mismatched zodiac-looking affront to God?"

"… Are you being serious right now?"

"This is a demonic beast that haunts people's dreams and kills them in their sleep! It doesn't make sense! It doesn't fit with everything else!" Sasha yelled at the floating head.

Not-Sprig glared. "Why does this matter?!"

"Are there more abominations like this? Are there more Frankensteins in the wild?! IS THIS SOMETHING I HAVE TO DEAL WITH MORE IN THE FUTURE?!"

"WHY ARE YOU BEING BOTHERED BY THIS?!"

"I DON'T LIKE IT, OKAY?!"

Just as she was finished, the lion-scorpion monstrosity roared, shaking her and somehow, Not-Sprig. They quickly turned back towards the clearing as the creature cut down the vines that hung the farmers mid-air. The Plantars landed with an oomph, but before they could even recover, the Scorpileo slammed its large paws onto them, nailing them to the ground and preventing any chance of escape.

"WE'RE GONNA DIE!" Polly screeched, accompanied by Sprig and Hop Pop's own shrieks of terror.

Not-Sprig squawked. "Ah! We've wasted too much time! It's getting ready to eat them!" He said, before swinging to Sasha. "Time for step two! Use your surroundings!"

"R-right!"

Looking around, Sasha quickly got to work. She knelt down to dig a hole but as she glanced upwards, she found a better solution. Climbing up a nearby tree, she ripped a thick branch off of its trunk and with a jagged stone, chiselled the leaves and sharp edges off. Wiping the sweat off her brow, she grinned.

"Ta-da! It's finished!" Sasha exclaimed, showing her creation to her imaginary friend.

Not-Sprig did not look amused. "A club? Really, Sasha?! We're not barbarians!"

"I ALREADY CHIPPED MY NAIL, OKAY?!"

God, Not-Sprig was such a critic.

"AAAAAAAAHHHHH!"

The argument cut short, she snapped back to where the Plantars were, the Scorpileo looking absolutely famished. It licked its lips and with its curved claws, it picked Polly by her bow and lifted her above its jaws. Seemed like the smallest was the appetizer.

"POLLY!" Sasha shouted, jumping out into the open. The Scorpileo's ears twitched and immediately, it turned to her with a growl, its fangs barred and its mandibles snapping aggressively.

"Sasha?!" Hop Pop exclaimed.

"Sasha, save us!" Sprig then cried.

Polly, literally bawling by this point, squealed. "I don't wanna die! I just lived!"

Sasha ignored all three screams of help and terror, instead choosing to focus on the situation at hand. She needed to lure the Scorpileo away from the Plantars but from a glance, it didn't look like the creature was willing to part itself away from its hard-earned meal. If what Sprig taught her was right, then there was one sure-fire solution but for the first time ever, she didn't seem confident about it.

She gripped her weapon tightly. "Now for step three; the dance. Let's hope this works."

Sasha took a deep breath, her panicked heartbeat slowly calming. She spread her legs, lowered her centre of gravity, and following her inner rhythm, she began to dance.

"Unf! Unf! Unf!"

It sucked.

Under normal circumstances, Sasha was not a bad dancer. This, however, was not a normal circumstance. This was a frightful emergency and she was about to see her adopted family get eaten by a chimera. She was nervous, panicked and not thinking straight.

She knew that she had to do the special hunting dance. Those were the steps Sprig taught her. But she didn't know how. She tried it before and it didn't work. There was a clear difference between hers made for recreation and one that carries the legacy of a proud family.

Sasha panted, watching as the beast looked at her, confused but unmoving. "It's... Not... Working...!"

"You gotta believe, Sasha! Listen to the music of the universe! Hear the beating of its drums!"

It didn't matter how good Sasha was at dancing. It didn't matter if nature itself screamed in her ears.

"It's still not working!" She noted in a panicked voice. In fact, the Scorpileo was losing interest in her and going back to its meal. Her eyes widened in terror. "IT'S NOT WORKING!"

"You've got one last shot, Sasha! Save us!" Not-Sprig screamed, equally panicked.

"AAHHH! SASHA!"

"SASHA!"

"SASHA, I'M SORRY!"

Sasha Waybright-Plantar could not, and never will, perform the Plantar family war dance.

"Grrr, oh, SCREW IT!" She shouted in rage. With a maddened howl, she charged at the beast and as she got close, lifted her blunt weapon high and smashed its heavy end onto the hybrid's scorpion foot.

CRACK!

The Scorpileo stopped.

"GRROOOAAAAAAAAHHH!"

The Scorpileo howled in agony, tossing away its captured prey. Sasha, in a moment of petty anger, did not lift her club; instead, she stomped her foot on top of it, even shifting the wood slightly like a pepper grinder. It was only a second later did it retaliate, pulling its pained limb and spinning around. The Scorpileo's tail smacked her as it turned, flinging the girl off to god knows where.

"WAAAAAA—OOF!" Sasha screamed before unceremoniously crashing and rolling into the dirt. She groaned, disoriented, her arms sore and her head ringing. Gradually, she recovered and in the nick of time too; the Scorpileo glared at her, its yellow eyes pulsating with reddish veins.

It did not look happy.

Sasha stood back, clutching her makeshift weapon, and laughed nervously. "So, now I got your attention, huh?"

The Scorpileo growled.

Sasha lifted her free hand, its palm facing up, and waved her fingers back and forth with the exaggerated swagger of a white teenager. "Well, what are you waiting for?" She taunted. "Fite me, bro!"

With a lion's mighty roar and a scorpion's diabolical chittering, the Scorpileo lunged at her at cartoonish speeds. It craved only one thing; to tear the young girl into shreds.

She really should've thought this through.

We interrupt this scheduled fight for a brief intermission regarding the status and whereabouts of the true stars of this event: the wonderful, lovable Plantars.

They're eating dirt. That's the update.

"Ugh..." Sprig groaned, pulling his face from Mother Earth's earthly bosoms. While he was fine with eating dirt as the way of the hunter, it's a different story when he gets smacked into it. It's the principal of it.

Nearby, Hop Pop rubbed his bald head. "Nng... Is everyone alright?"

Sprig gave a thumbs up. "Y-yeah, I think so."

Polly rolled over and groaned. "Hey, Hop Pop? Can I get a mace when we reach Newtopia? I feel like this could've all been avoided if I had a mace."

"Normally, I'd say that weapons are for barbarians but considering current circumstances, I'm rethinking that. Would you opt for a pocket dagger instead?"

"Tubular."

Oh, cool. Polly gets to buy a knife. First she got to learn to drive before him, and now this. No, Sprig wasn't jealous – he still held the steadfast belief against weapons – but he has a slingshot himself so really, who was he to judge?

He wasn't jealous. Shut up. Good brothers don't get jealous.

"Wait... Where's Sasha?"

Back to our scheduled fight scene – a 14-year-old white girl against a scorpion-lion hybrid. Her weapon? A branch she snapped from a nearby tree. The scorpion-lion hybrid? Just about every part of its body.

Sasha twirled her stick in her hands, spinning it around her palms. The Scorpileo was wary but not frightened; it pounced at her, its paws out to maul upon contact. In response, Sasha swung upwards and hit the beast in the lower jaw, the momentum from her twirls proving enough to stun it briefly. Dazed, the Scorpileo shook its head and growled before arching back, exposing its threatening tail.

Fun fact: the venom of the deathstalker, one of the world's most deadliest scorpions, has enough power to kill a fully-grown adult if not treated. It's a cocktail mixture of various neurotoxins and cardiotoxins and is proven to be fatal to all but the hardiest of people.

Thankfully, the Scorpileo was not related to it. No, no, it's worse.

The chimera threw its stinger at her, hoping to nick even the barest of skin. Sasha's instincts screamed at her, yelling at her to dodge at any means. Yet, Sasha stayed focused. She poised herself and carefully shifted left and right, bashing and parrying the tail away once it got close. She didn't have any formal training in swordsmanship but she did know how to twirl a baton, so this was basically the same thing, right?

Additionally, she was mostly focused on dodging. Now dodging was something she was really good at. With all the responsibilities she's avoided, she had plenty of practice.

The Scorpileo, on the other hand, was less of a fan. Watching its stinger miss its target repeatedly was nothing short of aggravating. Enough so for a powerful creature like a Scorpileo to lose its temper. The beast jumped at Sasha suddenly, startling her out of her stance. She panickedly ducked and rolled under the pouncing animal, landing safely behind it.

"Haha! Nice try, you stupid animal!" Sasha quickly stood and mocked, waving her branch.

At least, she would if she didn't drop it halfway. Sweaty fingers.

"... Ah, fu—"

STAB! The Scorpileo growled and launched its stinger at her, landing right between her legs. "Ah!"

It seemed like it liked that reaction. Smiling evilly, it threw its stringer in rapid succession, aiming at Sasha's feet instead of her body. Sasha yelped as she stepped back; it was like watching a cat play with its food. Eventually, she was pushed to a tree, cutting off her escape.

Grinning toothily, the Scorpelio shot its tail at her one more time, this time aiming right at her chest. Sasha, her back quite literally against a wall, jumped up and barely avoided what could've been death. But what goes up must come down and Sasha, under the whims of gravity, fell back down and onto the Scorpileo's tail.

The two locked eyes, all while Sasha hung from the tail in a tight hug. "Uh... H-hey~"

The Scorpileo did not swing that way.

"W-W-WHOA! CALM DOWN, YOU STUPID—" Sasha shrieked, latching onto the tail for dear life. The tail wagged violently, flicking and lashing with incredible force. Sasha could feel her grip slipping, slowly losing hold. The struggle then came to an end when the Scorpileo swished its tail upwards, finally sending Sasha flying...

... And landing on its back instead.

"GRROOOAAAA!" The beast roared.

The Scorpelio trounced and bounced all over the field like a rodeo bull in an attempt to remove the parasite and Sasha, the parasite in question, screaming like no tomorrow, gripped the creature's hair with the remainder of her strength.

"AAAAHHHHH!" Sasha shrieked. For some reason, this all reminded her of the carnival rides they had back whenever she visited her uncle. Technically, she was too young to ride those but that never stopped dear ol' Sasha.

She quickly learned why she was too young. At least the hospital visit was short.

"WOULD—" Bounce.

"—YOU—" Trounce.

"—PLEASE—" Sproing.

"—STOP?!" Boing.

It was a shame the beast could not understand her, not like that would change anything. Sasha did stab it in its hind leg, so listening to her was the last thing on its mind. All it wanted was what every beast of the wild wanted; to rip and tear its prey.

"I'm gonna be sick..." Sasha blurbed, turning green and placing her hand over her mouth. She didn't know how much longer she was going to last. "Guh... Just sit down already...!"

"SASHA!"

Suddenly, a voice called out to her. Oddly enough, that voice came from above her so whoever that was had to be flying. Or more precisely, falling in style. Sasha looked up and to her genuinely shock, Polly came to view. In the baby's flipper, she held the branch.

Her salvation has arrived.

"I'VE GOT YOU, GIRL!" Polly shouted, waving the stick as if it was a holy weapon against great evil. With all her baby might – which, by the way, was quite a lot despite her size – she threw the wooden stick, the item dashing through the air like a shuriken.

Sasha's eyes widened and she was ready for it. Alas, the Scorpileo was being a big dum-dum and continued to act roughly, causing her to lose her balance and forcing the girl to hold on. So long as the beast moved erratically, she could not keep steady enough to catch it.

Thankfully, she wasn't alone. If Polly was the scout, then Sprig and Hop Pop were the cavalry. With his trusty slingshot, Sprig launched a rock into the lion-scorpion's face, stunning it for a brief moment. At the same time, Hop Pop ran around, catching Polly as she quickly descended from her significant leap.

On his own, Sprig continued to lob rock after rock, hitting the king of the jungle all over. He wasn't one to brag but Sprig was a good shot, having trained himself in the fields of projectile physics and aerodynamics. He didn't know the math behind it but he was very good at guessing.

"GRRRRRR—!" The Scorpelio growled. It flinched as another of Sprig's rocks hit it in its mane but now, its target has changed. Like the predator that it was, it slowly and methodically stepped towards the boy frog, its teeth bared and its mandibles snapping like whips.

Sprig loaded his slingshot once more, the rubber strap pulled to its limit for maximum velocity. He aimed dead centre in the forehead, hopefully enough to disorient it or maybe even break a nose. But just as he was about release his fingers, he stopped, eyebrows raised.

Sprig lowered his weapon of self-defence and the Scorpileo, a wild hungry beast of nature, took that as a sign of defeat. Yet, it could not smell the same fear from Sprig as it did back when it was about to eat him. Instead, to its confusion, the boy frog smiled.

"You got this, Sasha?" Sprig asked.

And on top of the Scorpileo, now standing over its head with a heavy branch lifted above her head, Sasha nodded. "Yeah, I got this."

Sasha's and the beast's eyes glowed and from her hands, the branch quickly turned pink.

"I... said..."

She swung down.

"SIT!"

CRACK—KSHOOOOM!

Suddenly, her strength returned – nay, more like surged to beyond human limits – and with the pure unbridled power of a teenage girl, Sasha struck the Scorpileo right in hardest part of its skull. The branch of the common tree, empowered by her roaring lioness spirit, cracked and sent a shockwave that shook the entire forest.

The force of the blow blasted the creature straight down, its jaws crashing into the earth, blowing dust and sand all over. Within that split second, the Scorpileo's head was left buried in a small crater, like petunias lovingly planted by a gardener.

And for a brief moment, everything was quiet.

And yet, despite all that, the beast, still did not give. In a last act of defiance, it attempted to lift its trembling paw to swipe at her. Alas, it was for naught; it did not have the strength to continue. In the end, the paw slumped and fell, and its body no longer fighting back.

The Scorpileo was defeated. Winner: Sasha Waybright.

Sasha breathed heavily, her body relaxing and the grip on her weapon loosening. As she looked at her downed opponent, she noticed the pink aura blanketing her branch slowly disappear. And as the branch lost its colour, so did its vigor. The piece of ripped wood had served its master well and after going above and beyond, it could finally rest. In her very hands, the branch disintegrated into a fine dust and flew off into the wind.

Rest in peace, branch of a common tree. May it find peace in its next life, possibly as the leg of an exquisite dining table.

"... Well, that was dramatic." She muttered to herself and jumping off the back of her defeated foe.

Then, all of the sudden, her balance shifted and Sasha fell backwards and onto her butt.

Sasha breathed heavily. She felt... ennuied, her temper and anxiety gone so unexpectedly. Instead, the invigorated flame disappeared as quickly as it came, an icy numbness creepily washing over her in turn. Her fingers felt numb and the rosy energy that exhumed from her gradually waned and disappeared.

She felt cold, just like last time.

"SASHA!" A voice shouted. She lifted her tired head and coming her way, Sprig ran. "Sasha, are you alright?!"

There was a long empty pause before her reply. "Y-yeah, I'm... alright. I'm..." Just as she said that, the numbness slowed and finally stopped, before rapidly, her warmth returned. "I'm... feeling a bit better now. Phew!"

Sprig smiled and sighed in relief. "Oh, good. I was really worried."

"Worried for little ol' me? Aww shucks, you shouldn't have." She teased. "Seriously though, you're the one who nearly got eaten. If anyone gets to be worried, it's me."

"It's not a competition, Sasha." Hop Pop said, walking in the conversation with Polly.

"Oh, it definitely is. And I won."

While Hop Pop rolled his eyes, Polly clapped her little flippers, stealing their attention. "Well, family, I'm super glad we get to have this little banter session but can we leave? I'm already traumatized and I kinda don't want to go for a second round."

Sasha waved nonchalantly. "Pfffft, relax~ I gave it my all back there. There's no way that thing's ever waking up soo—"

"Gruuuooowww..."

Sasha blinked. Along with the others, they turned their heads towards the knocked out Scorpileo who, much to their surprise, wasn't as knocked out as they thought. The Scorpileo shifted its legs and slowly, pulled its head out of the crater. It looked dazed with clouded eyes and a sizable bump on its head, but it was, without a doubt, aware of its situation.

Sasha glared and in turn, the beast glared at her. Their eyes locked and for a brief flash, it even shared a hue.

"... Don't."

PSSSSH—FWIP! "Order up!"

Did you know there are 101 ways to cook a grubble? It may sound excessive but grubbles just so happened to be one of the most versatile ingredients in amphibian culinary. Their plump and meaty bodies make the perfect centrepiece in almost every dish. Plus, they're also very abundant, being found in every region of Amphibia – yes, including the desert and snowy peaks.

Yet, despite their versatility, they're often seen as 'drab' or 'poor people's food' and thus, wasn't commonly cooked. One famous chef was known to use it heavily in his dishes. Whatever happened to him?

Nonetheless, the common grubble was such an easy and delicious source of protein that even someone unfamiliar with amphibian culinary could master it. Take for example, back at the campsite, Sasha was cooking up a storm.

After their, uh, debacle, the Plantars returned to their campsite, their limbs intact. The camp was a mess but after a few minutes of elbow grease, they managed to fix it back to its original state. And after all that work – plus the regular crazy adventure – it only made sense that they were a tad starving.

That's when Sasha Waybright, God's gift unto Amphibia, came down from the heavens and held them in her dainty fair arms, gentle like a mother's touch. She whispered in their ear 'I will end world hunger' and they fell into a deep bliss.

Okay, that didn't actually happen but it could've. Instead, Sasha just volunteered to cook everyone a meal with their recent catch and they obliged.

Now, this wouldn't really be that big of a deal – Sasha cooked for them before – but there was a certain unwanted guest around and frankly, none of the frogs were comfortable about it.

Hop Pop poked his grilled grubble steak. "Sasha, may I say a word?"

"You already did."

"Now, I'm not usually the kind to judge who you befriend but, uh..." He glanced at their guest. "I don't feel safe."

Next to him, sitting politely with its own plate, was none other than the Scorpileo itself. Yes, that Scorpileo – the exact same king of the beasts that tried to gobble everyone like breakfast, lunch and dinner. Even when sitting upright, it easily towered over the entire Plantar family, its sharp tail swishing behind it.

Sasha walked up to the Scorpileo, a cast-iron pan in hand. While wearing an apron with the printed words 'Cherish The Chef', she tilted her pan and gently scraped the perfectly cooked steak onto its empty plate, sauce included. Its ears perked and just as Sasha took a step back, she snapped her fingers and like the wild animal it was, began ripping the steak with its teeth.

"Grrrr..." The Scorpileo growled as it hungrily devoured the piece of meat.

Sasha smiled and started scratching its mane, much to its delight. "Relax, Hoppity Poppity. Dwayne 'The Rock' Johnson here wouldn't harm a fly."

"Why in the world did you name it..." He exasperatedly whispered. "Also, it literally tried to kill us a few minutes ago."

"Exactly — wouldn't harm a fly." She replied. "Dwayne already said he's sorry and was just a hungry little fella. Didn't ya, Dwayne?"

"Rawr!"

Hop Pop grumbled before sighing, defeated. "I guess I'm willing to let this slide. I mean, you did save our lives." He then smiled. "Thank you, Sasha."

"Yep! Thanks for the meal." Sprig added. Beside him, Polly nodded before vacuuming her steak.

Sasha chuckled at the sight and returned to her cooking station. It was just the campfire with a metal stand on it to put the pan, but that's just how it was when camping. Before she picked another steak, she paused, her hand hovering over the meat.

Sasha gulped. "Hey, Hop Pop? Am I... a Plantar?"

Hop Pop stopped. It didn't take him twice to notice. "Is there something wrong?"

Sasha placed her pan and turned around, facing him. "While you guys were about to be eaten, I tried to do your hunting dance. Emphasis on the 'try'." She exclaimed, then looking away. "I-it didn't work and I panicked and got into that fight."

"Yes, we saw. So what's the issue?"

"W-w-what's the issue? I just told you it didn't work!" she yelled, her voice cracking. "Had I just done it right, then maybe I would've saved you guys faster. Maybe it wouldn't have been such a mess and maybe I wouldn't have gotten into a fist fight with an abomination."

"Gruh?"

"Let's be honest, Dwayne Johnson; we both know that's true."

"Ruh..."

"It's just..." She took a deep breath and sighed. "I tried and I couldn't do it, and if I tried anymore, you guys... you guys could've been dead."

The entire time, with all she said, she couldn't look at the old frog in the eyes. She rubbed her arm nervously and from the way she puckered in her lips, it seemed as if she just wanted to disappear. Was this guilt, sadness, envy or... shame?

"Is this because you couldn't do it to save our behinds, or because you couldn't do it at all?"

Sasha trembled.

"I j-just wanted to be a part of it too..."

Polly and Sprig shared a glance, a sympathetic frown on their faces. Meanwhile for Hop Pop, he placed his utensils down and with a heavy breath, closed his eyes.

"Sasha, it's just a dance. Just because you couldn't do it, doesn't make you not a Plantar." He exclaimed softly.

Sprig nodded. "Yeah, Sash! Hey, remember that secret basement with all the ancestors? I don't think all of them knew how to do the dance either."

"Girl, I can't do it either." Polly chirped in. "I mean, I don't have legs but that doesn't stop me."

Hop Pop smiled proudly. He then walked up to between the two siblings and doing his arms around them, hugging them both. "See that? We're all different. Heck, I'm not even their real grandpa!"

Sprig gawked. "Wait, you're not?!"

"Sprig, I've never been married. How would I be your actual grandfather?"

"Then how are we related?!" Polly shrieked.

"My sister."

She blinked. "Ah, okay. That makes sense."

"See that? Not even directly related. They're still my lovable grandkids." He said, pulling them closer. "That's just how family is. It's about the connections, no matter what kind. Anyone can be family if you want them to."

Sasha stared at the old man, watching as he rocked back and forth, pulling his two grandchildren with a gleeful and honest laugh. She felt her heartbeat flutter and her skin flushing red, her face turning warm. This… She wanted this. She wanted to be a part of this, despite not being a frog, or even an amphibian, or even from the same world.

She thought she was an adopted Plantar. In truth, she's an adopted Plantar.

Hop Pop then quickly shuffled towards Sasha and nudged his elbow at her. "Now, stop moping and start cooking! Dwayne 'The Rock' Johnson here looks like he's up for seconds."

Sasha smirked and raised an eyebrow. "I thought you didn't like Dwayne."

In response, Hop Pop shrugged. "Well, what can I say? The Scorpelio grew on me."

"Heh, at this rate, maybe he'll even be a Plantar."

""HAHAHAHAHAHA—!"" The two shared a long and spirited laugh. And what a laugh it was, especially from Hop Pop. Despite being an old frog with one foot in the grave, he literally laughed himself to tears, even to the point of astonishing Sasha. This elder sure knew how to laugh.

"Hehehehe…"

…

…

"No."