Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

One minute, Anne was opening the strange, bejewelled music box. The next, she was spluttering face-down in muddy, disgusting water. She reared up, gasping and shocked, squinting at the suddenly too-bright sky.

(Something was wrong)

How was it so bright? It was night-time just a second ago. Anne boggled at the sky for a moment, taking in the hazy blue sky and sweltering sun. She struggled to process the sudden and impossible change. Her eyes refused to properly focus.

She forced them down to take in equally impossible surroundings. Swamp every way the eye could see, tall trees looming. Plants, usually small, were inflated to giant proportions. Her eyes widened at the sight. Her head whipped around every which way, terror seeping into her bones. Where the heck was she?

(Something was very wrong)

Breath hitching in slowly increasing panic, Anne scrambled up. The film of water over the muddy ground sloshed with her sudden movement, kicking up silt. She tensed, alert. The unfamiliar swamp was alight with sounds of insects.

She felt like crying. She wanted to go home.

Her eyes caught movement and for a second, she was sure there was a dragonfly in her face for how large it appeared to be. She blinked. Then it passed behind a faraway branch, and she realised it was horrifyingly large, possibly bigger than herself.

Anne stumbled back and away. She kept her gaze locked onto the buzzing behemoth, tracked it across the sky until she no longer could. Even then she stared at the way it went, past the treeline, until the sound faded.

(Something was so very wrong, she didn’t want to acknowledge it, but it begged for her attention, and she couldn’t ignore it anymore–)

Anne looked down at her hand. She screamed.

Blue, blue, blue. Her hand was blue. Blue and misshapen, one finger less, with strange webbing connecting the digits. She stared at them with horror tightening her throat, making it hard to breathe. The colour continued up her arms, peeked out past her skirt on equally misshapen feet. Beyond that, a reflection not her own stared back up at her from the puddle. She fell to her knees, sending ripples through the image and partially obscuring it with more silt.

Her brown hair was the only familiarity. Bulging eyes caught her attention first, too big and too far apart, pupils deformed and oriented sideways. Her whole head was shaped wrong, protruding out grotesquely. Her mouth practically split her face in half. The unnatural pink tone of her tongue peeked past her open-mouthed horror, contrasting sharply against the blue. Her nose was gone, gone, replaced with two squat nostrils that blended in with the rest of her face.

Anne closed her eyes against the sight. It was too much. How was she suddenly this… creature? This half-frog monster person?

A sob burst through her throat, and she realised she was finally crying. Tears fell and mixed with swampy water. She was uncomfortable and terrified and disgusted. She was so ugly it made her stomach roll with sickness.

She knelt in the edge of the muddy puddle for quite some time. When her sobs petered off, she continued to sit, silent. Staring out into nothing.

Anne eventually climbed to her feet, pointedly not looking at her reflection. Or her hands, or anything else. How had this happened? She turned, picked a direction, and started to walk.

Then stopped, spotting a familiar object half-buried in a tuft of grass a few paces away. Her eyes widened, the box! (Much bigger than it should’ve been, she’d shrunk. She tried not to think about it.) When she opened it there had been a bright flash, then suddenly she was here! There was no other explanation. The box had not only dumped her into this crazy place but was probably also responsible for the state of her body.

She darted towards the box, grabbed it and without hesitation, opened it. Nothing. Still here, still froggy and blue. She frowned, dismayed.

She realised then, spine straightening, that she had seen hide nor hair of her two best friends. They had been with her when she opened the box, so shouldn’t they be here with her? Where were they? Were they even here, in this strange world? Or were they still in that dim-lit park, wondering where she was?

Anne opened her mouth to call for them, (too wide, too wide!) then stopped. She hadn’t heard them looking for her for the whole time she’d been here. With how giant the plants and that dragonfly had been… She didn’t want to attract any unnecessary attention from freaky, oversized bugs. Instead, she lowered her voice into a whisper-yell.

“Marcy? Sasha?” She waited for a few moments. No reply. Anne was completely and utterly alone.

Anne wondered aimlessly through the swamp, hoping to find either her friends or civilisation. She tightened her hands on the straps of her oversized backpack. She had found it not far from where she had started, thankfully dry. It was much heavier than it should have been, no doubt because of her diminutive new stature. All the items she’d had in it were still there, thankfully. She used it to store the box.

The sun had risen to the height of the day, and her stomach was starting to rumble. She had luckily found her drink bottle still mostly full in her bag, but no food. She had no idea how long she could go without it. She vaguely remembered Marcy saying something about ‘three days water, seven days food’, but that applied to humans, not whatever she was now. She had to figure out something to eat. She was also just uncomfortably hungry.

Anne was mulling over what she’d even be able to eat (she was a frog-person-thing now, would she have to eat bugs? Ew, she hoped not,) when she heard an ominous CRACK from somewhere to her left. She stilled, paused mid-step. Her head swivelled towards the source of the noise. The swamp ceased its endless chatter, going quiet. A moment passed; she almost relaxed.

CHIT-CHIT-CHIT-CHIT

She stiffened at the sound, preparing to bolt. She put her other foot down carefully, quietly, so she wouldn’t lose balance. She eyed the foliage, hoping that if she didn’t make a sound that whatever that was would just pass her by.

An absolutely massive, bright red praying mantis head poked its way through the mass of leaves, decidedly not passing her by. It was followed by sickle-like claws and an equally massive body. For an insane moment, Anne considered that maybe it was friendly.

It screeched. Anne immediately dismissed the thought and ran in the other direction. She could hear it thumping and skittering behind her, quickly gaining on her. She pumped her legs as hard as she could. They were so short and stubby, not to mention the bag on her back weighing her down. It was going to catch her!

Anne squeezed her eyes shut for a moment and tried to pump her legs even harder. She was quickly tiring, faster than she should be. It was getting harder to keep going. Her thoughts flashed to her friends, who she’d never find if she didn’t escape. She thought of her mom and dad, who she’d never see again!

Tears beaded in her eyes. Anne missed them so, so much.

Her limbs lengthened, her strides grew wider and faster. Anne’s eyes snapped open in surprise, in time to watch the blue glow fade from lanky human limbs. She was human again!

She didn’t waste a moment, sprinting away with new energy. Her bag no longer bothered her. Anne aimed to lose the mantis. She took as many sharp turns as she could, around trees and lily pads, ducking under fallen branches, and through shrubbery and giant grass.

Anne was just beginning to tire again when there! A crack in a nearby tree. It looked deep enough that the mantis wouldn’t be able to reach her. She rammed herself into the opening, but to her growing horror realised that she just barely didn’t fit through.

She glanced back at the mantis. It was quickly gaining on her. Anne tried to force her way through, back pressed desperately against the opening. It reared back to swing, a flash of blue–

Anne fell back into the hollow, tumbling head over heel. She righted herself and scrambled back, pressing herself against the opposite wall. The mantis tried to reach a scythe in. It barely missed her.

The mantis raged and swiped and tried to reach her, but it was for naught. Anne was too far away, frozen stock still in terror, and the tree was too thick to slice. Still, it tried and tried for what must’ve been the better part of half an hour, but Anne was too petrified to pull out her phone to check the time.

Finally, it seemed to cut its losses and skittered off into the swamp. Still Anne did not move, waiting until she was sure it was gone. Slowly, she peeled herself from the wooden wall, and breathed a sigh of relief.

Anne peered down at her hands. They were wrong again, blue and webbed. She tried not to panic, remembering how she’d managed to become human again whilst fleeing. She focused on how it felt to be human: her face in the mirror, her normal, non-webbed hands, her height…

Nothing.

Her face scrunched. What had she been thinking about whilst she ran? What triggered it? She had started to tire out, it would catch her. She’d never get to see Sasha or Marcy, or… mom or dad.

Her eyes welled with tears at the reminder.

Anne wanted to go home.

A flash, and she was human again.

Chapter Text

She was warm and safe. Anne snuggled further into the blankets on the couch, her mom’s arm wrapped around her shoulders. Her dad was in the kitchen, humming a tune. The TV was switched to a nature documentary for the background noise.

Everything was perfect.

Shapes played out across the screen, an indistinct orange, pink, and purple mess. It harmonised with her dad’s humming; she’d heard it before.

Something was wrong. A flash of blue caught the corner of her eye and everything warped. Her parents’ faces loomed overhead, horrified and disgusted. Her friends screamed, peering in through the windows.

Anne had to reassure them. She was her! I am me!

I am me!

I AM ME!

Anne sprung awake, mouth gasping and heart racing. For a moment she sat there, catching her breath. She tried to cast her mind back to the nightmare that woke her just moments before, but it slipped through her fingers like water.

Anne squinted through the gloom, slightly disoriented. How long had she been asleep for? Last she remembered, there had still been daylight filtering through the gap in the hollow. Her parched mouth felt like sandpaper. She fumbled around for her bag, digging blindly for her drink bottle. She took a few desperate gulps but forcefully stopped herself, remembering her limited supply.

Her– ouch– her stomach cramped with hunger. Anne had gone all of yesterday without eating a single thing. She was terrified that today would be more of the same. She had to find something to eat or she’d starve. Foraging in the swamp seemed like a bad idea, she’d probably eat something poisonous. What other choice did she have, though?

The faintest hint of dawn was beginning to creep through the entrance. Anne shifted around to face it better. The space was a much tighter fit as a human. Her hair brushed the ceiling from her crouched position. She waited until she could see well enough, clutched her bag in one hand and slid forward to exit the hollow.

She stopped with one leg stuck out awkwardly through the hole. Right. Anne couldn’t fit through as herself. She retracted the leg, considering. Trying to push through anyway was a really dumb idea, so that was out. She’d absolutely get stuck. She'd be able to get out as that weird frog-person easily, but the thought of intentionally becoming that thing repulsed her. She'd leave that for a last resort.

Anne studied the gap. She leaned forward and grasped the edges. She tried pulling at it to see if any broke away. The edge of the bark on the outside of the tree crumbled a little, but the solid wood behind it held firm.

Changing tactics, she tried scraping away at the edges with her nails. It barely did a thing, only succeeding in making them hurt. She pulled away, hissing, a splinter lodged in one finger. Ouch. Thankfully it was not buried too deep and stuck out enough to easily grasp between two fingers. Anne pried the splinter out. It didn’t even bleed.

Okay, so that was out too. She supposed that made sense, considering the mantis had way better chances, yet even it couldn’t break the hollow open.

Anne sat there for a while, trying to brainstorm. Nothing came to mind. The light from outside became steadily brighter. She couldn't think of anything else. Weird frog thing it was, she supposed begrudgingly.

Anne thought back to yesterday, when she turned back into a human. Both times, she’d been thinking about her friends and family. She tried to do the same now. Playing Super Dance Fusion with Sasha, redirecting Marcy from oncoming traffic…

…hugs from her mom and dad.

Anne sniffled, trying to stay on track. There hadn’t been a flash of blue light yet and a glance down at her hands confirmed it. Still human, still her. She frowned and tried again.

No luck. The next few tries gave the same result.

Anne slowly realised that there’d been an outlier. When she’d turned back into a frog, she hadn’t been thinking about anyone. She’d been flooded with pure terror, mind blank, desperate to get away. In her rush to become herself again, Anne hadn’t even considered the consequences of turning back within the relative safety of the hollow.

Okay. It was okay. Think. Anne pushed herself back against the wall of the hollow. She thought of blue fingers and a bluer face, unsettlingly wide mouth and bulging eyes, webbed, small, gross…

Nothing. It wasn’t working.

Anne felt her breath pick up. The walls that gave her comfort and protection last night felt as though they had started to close in. The ever increasing light from the gap taunted her with freedom, barely an arms reach away.

If Anne couldn't get out, she'd starve here. Or maybe her water would run out before then and she'd die of dehydration. She shouldn’t have drunk so much before! Was she sitting on her deathbed? Oh no. She had to get out! She was going to die!

The hollow lit up blue. Anne blinked, taking in the suddenly much larger space. Her panic evaporated.

Oh.

Despite the lack of an audience, Anne still felt a bit embarrassed about her freakout. She quickly slipped out of the hollow, hauling her bag behind her.

Anne took in the early morning sunrise. The light sparkled off dew-ladened leaves and cast great shadows that danced upon the swampbed. For a moment she stood, transfixed by the sight. It was something out of an overly idyllic postcard; something you would never have a chance to see so close to the city.

She remembered herself then, and the state her body was in. Right. Marcy, Sasha, Mom, Dad, and she was human again. She breathed a sigh of relief.

Her stomach rumbled. Anne set out to search for food.

The next few days were some of the worst in Anne’s life. She had no clue what plants were safe to eat. She hadn't come across anything familiar. She couldn't bring herself to just try something, too worried that she'd doom herself to fall asleep for the last time. Her stomach stopped hurting by day three, but she wasn’t sure that was a good thing.

The swamp was crawling with predators. There were so many spiders and some of the insects had way too many legs. She came across some green mantises a few times, which whilst smaller than a red one, were no less aggressive. Luckily the green varieties seemed to be slower, so she was able to escape with relative ease each time.

Most horrifying of all, Anne discovered that there were more terrible creatures roaming the swamps than the insects. That bird had been absolutely massive. She was lucky that it was just passing by overhead, she hoped to never run into one face-to-face.

Anne transformed into her froggy form a few times to escape danger, but always by accident. She still had no idea how to do it on purpose, not that she had any particular want to do so. She didn’t stay in the form long, just as long as she needed to.

At least her clothes shrunk and grew with her. It was bad enough that she'd lost both her shoes and socks at some point. It would have been a total nightmare to have lost anything more vital to her warmth and modesty. Not that her remaining clothing was holding up particularly well, she'd need to get replacements at her first opportunity.

Whenever Anne would take that form, the humidity would completely cease to bother her. She hadn’t noticed on the first night, too wrapped up in the aftermath of getting chased down by a giant bug. As a human, it was too warm and wet. It made her feel gross. She wished desperately for a shower. She guessed that frogs were probably more well-suited to a swamp than she was. She stubbornly ignored the perk, unwilling to lose her humanity over it.

She had abandoned the tree hollow after that first night, not eager for a repeat. Instead, Anne settled for a wider-mouthed cave that she could fit into as herself. It was nowhere near perfect. The humidity of the day would settle on her skin and make her colder at night, leaving her shivering on the rocky, muddy cave floor. Not to mention it was crawling with bugs and spiders. Thankfully, they seemed happy leaving her alone. Like some sort of demented unspoken mutual survival agreement.

Anne felt as though she was developing bags under her eyes, but she didn’t want to waste her phone’s battery to check. She wished she had one of those solar powered chargers that she’d seen at the supermarket with her mom just the other week. At least then she’d be able to use it to take her mind off her situation, instead she had a time limit that slowly ticked down every time it switched on.

It was the evening of the fifth day of survival in the swampy wilderness. Anne had managed to fill her drink bottle the night before when it rained. She didn't know much about survival, but she was certain it would be better than drinking out of any existing bodies of water and getting sick.

Anne was making her way back to her cave. Night had snuck up on her, she hadn't meant to stay out quite so late. It would be harder to find her way back in the dark. She had been searching all day for food, but she still hadn't found anything she was confident enough to eat. Much more of this and she'd just have to try anyway, or it wouldn't make a difference.
She knew she had to find some sort of civilisation, and soon. Anne couldn't survive on her own.

So when Anne heard something that sounded suspiciously like someone humming along to an accordian, she hadn't hesitated to go searching for the music.

She bumbled around in the dark and fell gracelessly into a tuft of grass in the process. Anne finally came upon the person making the noise. Or rather, the frog-person. By the light of dimly glowing mushrooms, she could tell the little guy was the same colour as her as a frog-person.

He ran off screaming before she even got a word in. Her finger, raised up to say something, drooped. Well, there goes help.

In her struggle to find her way back to her cave in the dark, Anne had plenty of time to consider what went wrong with that interaction.

He had probably never seen someone like her, she supposed. Seeing something as big and unfamiliar as her looming in the dark was probably terrifying, from his perspective.

An idea struck her. What if she approached the next frog-person she encountered as one of them? Then she could ease them into the whole human thing, so they wouldn't run away screaming! A fool-proof plan, no doubt.

Anne settled down to try and get some sleep.

As was the running trend in this new world, Anne woke with the dawn. Well, it was more like 'sleep in bits and pieces then give up at first light', but that was basically the same thing.

Anne set about enacting her plan. The first step: turn into a frog-person. Easier said than done, because from what she'd figured out so far, she'd need to feel panicked and in danger enough to do it. She couldn't just do that on command, so that left putting herself in a situation that would trigger it.

Which is why she was here, screaming in the swamp, trying to attract the attention of a sufficiently dangerous creature. On purpose.

That wasn't her whole plan. Anne had made sure that there was a hole she could escape into, specifically one that only her other form could fit into. This was probably going to be one of the stupidest, most hairbrained things she'd ever done.

Anne was desperate to get out of the wilderness if it was the last thing she did. Okay, maybe not the last thing, don't think about that.

Oh, a mantis. A red one. Oh crud. Anne stopped yelling and booked it in the other direction, the giant bug hot on her tail.

A few tight turns, jump over a ditch, across a puddle, another turn – there! Anne leapt for the hole, a little mini-cave in a rocky outcropping. She landed in front of it, but she was still too big!

Anne spun around, freezing up. The mantis was gaining on her! Had she been mistaken, was it something else that turned her froggy? Had she miscalculated? Was she actually going to die this time?

The mantis grew, alongside everything else. Anne dove into the hole just as it swiped at where she'd been. She heaved panicked breaths as it raged outside, furious at her escape.

It took what felt like forever, but eventually it gave up and left. It took even longer for Anne to calm down her raging heart. She was never doing something like that again. She had been right, that was so, so stupid. It worked, but barely in the nick of time, because of course.

She glanced down at blue webbed fingers. It was weird not having a pinky finger, or finger nails. She looked up again, hands clenched determinedly. She'd only have to be like this long enough to speak rationally with a frog-person.

It didn't take long to find one.

Chapter Text

The swamp was awash with mid-morning sunlight. Slowly drying dew glinted off giant grass blades and great fern fronds. Leaves on high cast dappled shadows upon the damp leaf bed, dancing to their own tune. Insects buzzed and chirped their accompanying melody from their hidey-holes.

Froggy feet took stiff steps, meandering through the swamp floor. Anne had no clue where she was going. She could only hope to run into a frog-person or the place they lived.

She wanted to change back to herself very badly, but she wouldn’t. She couldn’t. If she did, her chances of getting help would plummet to zero. Anne refused to die out here.

She could only hope that she hadn’t scared all the frog-people into hiding or something. That would make this way harder. Her stomach cramped without actually feeling hungry. She tried to ignore it, but she knew going five days without food was really bad. Like, if she didn't eat within the next two days she'd probably die, bad.

As she trudged along, Anne began to notice something about her body she hadn’t yet noticed. She must not have been in the right state of mind when she took this form before. Not surprising, given the severity of the situation. She focused on the differences to take her mind off the dread.

Her teeth were really strange. Anne didn’t know much about frogs, but she could’ve sworn they didn’t have any. Yet there they were, a full set housed between her jaws, if a bit different. Given that Anne was used to having teeth, they’d just registered as something normal before now.

She studied the teeth with her tongue. They were a bit shorter than human teeth. They hid away behind her lips even when she opened her mouth. It gave the illusion of toothlessness if she didn’t actively bare them. They were also duller, flatter and way more numerous than human teeth.

All of a sudden her tongue burst from her mouth, extending many times longer than tongues should be. Her heart did a panicked flip-flop. She hadn't noticed the muscle that controlled it flex, too distracted with her teeth. Anne screamed, but it was muffled around the appendage. It lolled limply along the ground, like a living scarf.

Anne paused for a long, horrified moment. She should have expected this. It was like the one thing she retained from biology class about frogs. Ew, she could taste the ground. After a few very, very long minutes, Anne managed to locate the muscle again. She quickly moved to resituate her misplaced tongue.

Which proceeded to smack her in the face and bowl her over on its way back in. An unfortunate amount of dirt and leaves came with it. Anne spluttered and flailed. She leant to the side, spitting to try and clear her mouth.

“Uhhh…”

Anne jumped. She spun around awkwardly to face the young-sounding voice. There, stood on a tree root, was a very confused looking frog-person. He was a slightly eye-searing shade of hot pink, with a lighter shade of pink on his belly that reached up under his mouth. It contrasted with his muted green clothes. His mouth hung open slightly, showing off a sliver of neon yellow.

“Did… you just smack yourself in the face with your own tongue?”

Anne’s face lit up red. At least she thought it did. There was no heat that accompanied it, just a vague prickle in her cheeks.

“Uh… no?” she tried, sounding unsure even to herself. He looked doubtful. He opened his mouth to say something.

CHIT-CHIT-CHIT-CHIT

A horribly familiar sound echoed through the trees, past a patch of overgrown grasses. It was accompanied by the cracking of falling foliage. Anne stiffened, eyes widening in terror.

“It’s coming back!” she scrambled to her feet in a hurry.

“Wait, what is?”

Anne was already running in the opposite direction, past frog-boy. He apparently got the memo and hurried to catch up, hopping along the ground. They both dived into a hollowed out tree trunk in the nick of time.

The giant mantis came stomping out into the open. It passed their hiding spot, chittering. Anne and the frog-child both held their breaths, backs against the rotting wood. There was the sound of something slicing, again and again. The mantis screeched in rage.

Finally, the mantis lost interest. Anne found the courage to peer out a crack in the wood. From beside her, frog-boy did the same. She caught one last glimpse of its red carapace as it lumbered back through the grass.

They waited a few moments longer, making sure it was actually gone. The sounds faded into the distance. They both heaved sighs of relief. Anne slumped down, whilst frog-boy flopped dramatically. She noted that he was slightly smaller than her as a frog, but not by much.

"Well, that thing was horrifying," sighed frog-boy, climbing to his feet.

"Tell me about it," Anne agreed. "That was the third time."

"Ooh, unlucky," frog-boy nodded. A little too nonchalantly. How often does this sort of thing happen to these frogs?

Anne made a vague noise of agreement. Her stomach cramped again. Right, presently starving. She felt light-headed. She realised that she'd zoned out and that frog-boy had said something.

"What?" she mumbled, none too politely. She couldn't bring herself to care at that moment.

"I said, you got a name, stranger?"

"Oh, yeah," Anne blinked and took a second too long to continue. "I'm Anne. Anne Boonchuy."

A concerned look passed frog-boy's face. He studied her for a second.

"I'm Sprig Plantar," he introduced, holding out a hand. "Put 'er there!"

"Ehh, okay," Anne shook Sprig's hand. It probably would have been worse if she was still human. Even still, a strand of slime connected their hands for a moment, snapping when they pulled away. Anne fought the urge to pull a face or comment. This was probably normal for them. She tried to be discreet about wiping her hand on her skirt.

"If you don't mind me asking, are you alright?"

"You could tell?" Anne asked, surprised.

"Uh, yeah," Sprig glanced down. "You look kinda sick and thin." Anne glanced down at herself. She couldn't tell. Then again, she had very little frame of reference for what frog-person bodies were typically supposed to look like.

"I haven't eaten in five days," Anne tapped her fingers together. "You got any food?"

Sprig's eyes widened like saucers.

"WHAT? Why haven't you been eating?" his hands flew to his head, oddly incredulous.

"I didn't know what was safe to eat," Anne shrugged, feeling sheepish. "I didn't want to poison myself."

“But- wha- there’s food everywhere-” Sprig tore away a section of wood from the wall, lifting it up. A squirming mass of bugs was revealed inside, already skittering away. Anne squeaked and leaned away. "There, there’s food right here," Sprig gestured to the writhing mass.

"Uhm… anything that's not bugs?"

Sprig’s features deadpanned, “You haven’t eaten. In five days,” he reiterated. Anne made a whining sound in the back of her throat.

“Please don’t make me,” she whimpered, edging away. Sprig sighed.

“Okay, fine, I guess we're going foraging then. Better than nothing,” he let the wood go, letting it snap back into place. Sprigs's tongue shot out and caught a stray beetle, quick as lightning. Anne’s eyes followed the movement, morbidly curious. She could do that now, ugh.

He hummed, visibly chewing. "I don't get why you won't eat them, but I've seen weirder things, I guess," he shrugged. "Come on, you can eat the food as we find it."

Sprig turned around and exited the hollow. Anne made to follow, but got lightheaded when she stood up too fast. She wobbled, reaching for the nearest wall to stabilise herself.

Anne followed her strange new acquaintance. She could only hope that she could trust him.

She caught a glimpse of torn-up trees on her way out.

"Try this."

Anne took the offered plant. It seemed to be some sort of tuber. Sprig had dug it out of the ground by the leaves, like some sort of lumpy purple carrot. He'd washed it in a nearby stream, so it was at least free of dirt.

The taste was savoury with a hint of bitterness, but no more than a walnut. It was strange to crunch into with her new teeth. It took a bit more effort than as a human.

"Not bad," Anne hummed.

"Yeah, they're better boiled. Not as bitter."

Sprig picked up a few more plants, but only gave one more to Anne. He picked up a bucket from the side of a path to put them in.

"We'll collect more for later," Sprig explained. "You probably shouldn't eat too much. We can ask my Hop-Pop what to do, to make sure you don't get sick."

Anne hadn't thought of that. She made a noise of agreement.

"Anyways, where are you from?" Sprig enquired. "I haven't seen you around before."

"Oh, a long way away," she deflected. Understatement of the century, Anne. "You wouldn't have heard of it."

"Oh, are you from beyond the valley?"

"Ehh… yes?" Anne tried, going with it. She knew basically nothing about this world. Best not advertise it, at least not yet.

Anne felt a pang of homesickness. It must've shown on her face, because Sprig had stopped walking and was looking at her.

"You miss it?"

"Of course I do," Anne closed her eyes. "I didn't mean to leave. I'd give anything to go back."

They walked in silence for a while. Sprig occasionally picked up more plants and added them to the bucket.

"What was it like?"

"Hmm?" Anne had zoned out.

"Your home. What was it like?"

Anne hummed some more, thinking.

"Busy," Anne decided. "It's much quieter here. It was just me and my parents, but it was a big community. They run a restaurant. I'd sometimes help out when I wasn't at school."

"You go to school?" Sprig seemed oddly excited about the prospect.

"Uh, yeah. I'm not the best student, I guess," Anne puffed a breath out. "But my two best friends make it worth it. I've got to find them."

Something occurred to Anne then. The previous times she'd reverted back to herself, she'd thought of her family and friends. She just did both of those things. She internally panicked for a second, before taking in her unchanged perspective and the blue skin in her peripheral vision.

She was still froggy. However, if that was the case, what was the difference between those previous times and this one?

"So, problem," Sprig snapped Anne out of her thoughts. "You won't be able to leave the valley for a couple of months at least. The mountains surrounding it are impossible to get through this time of year."

"What?" Anne gaped. "Seriously? Then what am I going to do? I have nowhere to go."

Sprig hummed, contemplative, "Maybe… you should come stay with me! I'm sure Hop-Pop won't mind."

Sprig said something else under his breath that sounded suspiciously like 'responsible thing to do'. Anne didn’t even need to think about it.

"Yes! Please, I’m not cut out for survival," she pleaded.

Sprig nodded confidently. They continued on in comfortable silence for a while, continuing to fill the bucket. It was getting quite full.

"By the way," Sprig handed her another mushroom. "Have you seen a monster around here?"

"A monster?" Anne turned to the frog-kid. "Like that big bug that chased us?"

Sprig laughed, shaking his head, "No, no. That's pretty normal around here. Although," he tilted his head, considering. "Red mantis usually aren't so close to town. But no, this one was way different than anyone's seen before!"

Anne nibbled on her food. The mushroom was brown with a white stem. It tasted like mushroom. She nodded absently, to show she was listening.

"One-Eyed Wally saw it," Sprig continued. "Said it had a huge head, a weird bump on its face, and long spindly legs."

Anne took a moment to envision such a creature. It sounded pretty scary. She vaguely recollected Marcy showing her some creature with those proportions. Then again, it almost sounded like–

She almost choked on her mushroom. Oh crud, he was describing her. Anne coughed, doubling over. Sprig glanced over at her, alarmed.

"Woah, you okay?" she nodded, clearing her throat.

"Yeah, fine," she replied hoarsely. Sprig looked unconvinced, but acquiesced.

"Anyway, the town was getting real worked up when I left. They're probably gonna mob it."

Anne was sure she looked as terrified as she felt. "And… what will they do when they find it?"

"Eh," Sprig shrugged. "Probably either drive it out or kill it if they can."

Why did she even ask? Anne felt sick. If she hadn't hidden in her gross froggy form, she'd probably be dead by now!

"Right," Anne desperately tried to not lose what little she had in her stomach. "What were you doing out here then?"

"I wanted to prove to my Hop-Pop that I'm responsible," declared Sprig, proudly. "So I wanted to find it before them."

"Right," Anne couldn't believe what she was hearing. There's no way she was turning back into herself now.

Only thing was, she still desperately needed help. So Anne was just going to have to hide her true nature, and pretend to be a frog.

Fantastic…