Chapter 6 (Prologue)

"It was a good thing I saved your life, don't you think? I think so. I think it deserves breakfast in bed." Dart was still relaxing in the cup of the bromeliad when Callie came to rouse him.
Callie rolled her eyes. "I wouldn't be sleeping in if I were you. Your bed is about to become a lake."
"What do you mean?"
It started to rain. It does that fairly often in a rainforest, though to Dart it was something new and surprising. He climbed out of his shelter and gazed up at the sky in wonder, sticking out his long tongue to catch raindrops. He would have been content to do that all day but Callie dragged him into Rana's daytime hideyhole- beneath the roots of a banyan tree. Rana greeted them blearily. He looked tired, but well fed.
"Make yourself comfortable. Plenty of room for a couple of froglets," he said.
Callie was indignant. "I'm not a froglet! And I'm not sure what your definition of 'plenty of room' is, but it seems to be different than mine."
"You're all froglets to me, my dear. But come, we'll just have to get snug. And if we get a little wet, well, a little water never hurt a frog. Or a froglet."
Callie rolled her eyes again. But she and Dart pressed in closer.
Dart spoke up. "What's that smell?"
"It certainly wasn't me," Callie said, "Froglets could never make that much gas. Must've been Grandpa Rana here."
This time it was Rana who rolled his eyes. Dart laughed. What he had actually smelled was the rainforest in all its humid healthy decay. The rain was soaking the leaf litter, contributing to its rot and eventual renewal. He looked outside. Yesterday it had been a splatter of greens, blues, reds and yellows of flower and frog. Today it just seemed kind of grey. But Dart liked it. He liked feeling safe with his friends.
Somewhere in the distance a frog chorped. Rana responded with a surprisingly loud croak of his own. Dart didn't want to be left out so he inflated his little froglet throat sac and let out a mighty . . . squeak. Callie covered her mouth to hide a giggle.
Embarrassed, Dart said, "I guess I'm still too young to join the Frog Chorus, huh?"
"We're all part of the Frog Chorus, Dart," said Rana. "Look at the female frogs, who don't have vocal sacs with which to sing. The Frog Chorus is more than the individual voices and notes. It's more than a song. Did you know that a spider can sense vibrations on her web and know when she's caught prey and when it's just a fallen leaf?"
"No, I never knew that," said Dart." What's a spider web?" But Rana was still talking.
"The Frog Chorus is similar to a spider web in that sense. The voices tell us of the health of the frog community, all our cousins out there in the forest. Individuals come and go, but the cousins persist. And they must be protected. The Frog Chorus can tell us when there is harmony and when there is discord. So as you can see, it is a web, not to entrap, but rather to protect."
"Oh," Dart said. He didn't really understand how the songs and poems he had heard last night could be like spiders at all.
Callie, who had been watching Dart more than listening to Rana, could see that Dart was not exactly enthralled. And who could blame the little guy? Rana was a kindly gentlefrog, a mentor for many who dispensed his wisdom freely, but he had a tendency to ramble. But one thing he was good at was telling stories. A good story was worth a thousand erudite lectures. She cleared her throat and said, "Why don't you tell us a story, Gramps? Something that shows the Frog Chorus in action."
"Hmm, an excellent idea. I know a story that you will like, Dart, it's about two blue poison frogs like yourself."
Dart brightened at this. "Really? What were their names?"
Rana replied, "Roar and Ree. They're friends of mine."
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Well, exposition is a necessary evil I guess, at least in this type of story. Hopefully your eyes didn't glaze over like Dart's did. Oh well. I keep having to remind myself that this is just a draft and I can worry about cleaning it up and making it better when (if?) I finish it.
Also, I need to come up with a frogular word for throat sac, because throat sac cracks me up too much and is not the best word ever when you're trying to take it seriously. Any ideas?
Soundtrack: Hmm, how about Lyra, Roger and Billy, track 4 from the Golden Compass soundtrack by Alexandre Desplat. It has a nice playful tone and is about three characters too!
Dedicated to my friend and neighbour (relatively speaking) Travis, soon to be a father, who also likes to explain sundry esoteric subjects at great length to any who will listen!
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