This is actually last Sunday’s post, so I’m going to add the usual “apologies” tag to this post. Sorry! I’ll try to get another installment out later this week. For the first part of the story, click here.
The toad led Peeps down a path through the swamp. She minced along, hating the way the saturated ground gave way beneath her paws and how the mud squelched between her toes. Creepy chirps erupted all around the pair, but Peeps could not see the chirpers. A greenish fog hid everything but the ferns on the edge of the path. “Ugh! This is a terrible place!” said Peeps. She sniffed the air, trying to pierce the fog barrier with her sense of smell. “And what sort of horrible creatures are making those sounds?”
“Those are spring peepers,” said the toad.
Peeps wondered if they were like her, since they had a similar name.
“Stupid frogs!” said the toad, answering Peeps’s unspoken question. “They spend so much time up in the trees, singing about love, they have no idea what the world is really like. But I do!” spat the toad. “I know which side my bread is buttered on!”
Peeps would have liked some butter, but the toad did not offer to share.
A fern twitched on the side of the path, then another. Something was moving toward them.