Chapter 9 (click here to go back to the beginning)

Of course, Dart had to go see if it was raining frogs right now. It wasn't. Nevertheless he had high hopes and vigilantly scanned the horizon until Callie came to see if he was alright. "What are you doing?" she asked. "Nothing. So what do we do when it rains?" "Mostly we wait for the rain to stop." "That's it? Isn't there anything fun we can do?" "Well, we could play a game- try and guess when the rain will stop." "I guess now." "Nope." "Now." "Sorry." "Well then definitely now." "Wrong again." Eighty-three incorrect guesses later, Dart decided this was a dumb game. "There must be something we can do?" Callie remembered her own days as a froglet, when every day was an adventure, every discovery amazing, and every game life or death. Sometimes sitting around telling stories and waiting for the sun to come out just wasn't any fun. Sometimes a frog just wanted to get out there and jump around. Besides, it might be a good idea to be creative and give Dart something to do lest he start thinking about his parents. "I know," she said. "Do you want to go see the rock monster?" "Rock monster?" "Yeah, it's a big rock that looks exactly like a monster. Wise old frogs like Rana say it's just a harmless piece of rock that happens to look like a monster, but I know better . . ." Dart urged her to go on. She paused just long enough to make him bounce up and down. "The rain brings it to life. Briefly. Long enough for it to feed." "What does it eat?" "Froglets, of course. And it doesn't matter what kind of froglets, either. I think it like poison ones best of all. Since it's made out of rock it doesn't really worry about poison too much. But don't worry- it can't stand red-eyes like me. So if you want, I can take you there." "Uh, why? Wouldn't it just be better to stay safe? I thought you said that just because most eaters will leave me alone that I should still try to keep away from them." "Yeah, mostly that's true, but. But." Callie tried to think of a convincing reason. She breifly considered telling Dart it would grant him a wish but she realized there was no way to make good on such an empty promise. Telling stories, embellishing the facts was one thing, but outright lying was a bad habit to get into. "are you telling me you're too scared? That's fine. We can stay here and wait for it to stop raining. I don't mind. Either way." "No, I'm not scared! No way! Don't you remember how I chased off that spider? Did I look scared to you? I'll chase the rock monster the same way. Yeah, I'm not scared. More like, let's go right now!" To prove how unscared he was, Dart took off into the forest. Callie laughed and called after him, "Wrong way Mr. Smarty-Darty. Come with me, I know the way." Callie headed off in the opposite direction. Dart followed, marveling at how dim and gloomy the rainforest floor was. Spying a froglet-sized mud puddle, he detoured into it, splashing mud all over his blue skin. Presently he remembered the task at hand, which was hunting monsters, not playing in the mud. He looked up. Callie was nowhere to be seen. "Callie?" he called. No answer. Well, she was heading in that direction, so Dart decided to try to catch up. He didn't notice the shape that detached itself from a waterlogged aloe. It crept up behind him, moving silently. Dart slowed down. Still no sign of Callie. He called her name a few times. How could she have left him behind? Was she that absent-minded? Couldn't she pay attention to what she was doing? Dart felt a tingling sensation in his tympani. He turned around. "BOO!" Callie jumped out at him, just like the first time they met, and the sight of her varihued belly was startling amid the gray drabness of the weather. Dart screamed. Callie laughed. "You went right by me! When will you learn?" Dart was embarrassed. And a little annoyed with Callie. "That wasn't nice." "Sorry- I couldn't resist. You were trying so hard to be brave even though you were obviously scared . . . " "I wasn't scared!" "Yes you were, and that's okay. There's nothing wrong with that, especially since you were willing to go anyway. I respect that. You're a brave little guy, even when you're scared." "Really?" "Yeah. Yeah, really. But maybe I should tell something. There isn't actually a rock monster, you know. It's just a game, something to do. A little harmless adventure. I mean, there is a rock that looks exactly like a hideous monster that eats froglets, but it's just a rock." Dart was relieved, but also disappointed. He had to admit he was having fun. "Can we still go see it anyways? Just for fun?" "Of course! Let's go!"
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So how long has it been? Too long. I was hoping to get some new writing done this week while on vacation but I was too busy. But I typed this up, I think I wrote it over a month ago, because I wanted to post something before I went away to work again.
It'll probably be a while before you see a new chapter. Slowly but surely.
Anyways, this chapter is dedicated to Travis Hanson, one of my favorite artists ever, who did that Homie Bear with froggies pic for me.
For a soundtrack, I think Rock Lobster by the B-52s would be cool, if only because I don't think another opportunity to use that song will come up in the course of this story.

Chapter 8- Rana's story concluded (Back to the beginning)



Ree was contemplating mischief again. What else was there to do in the rain? Earlier while hunting she had come across a freshly-molted tarantula exoskeleton. It was kind of creepy at first, coming face to face with a looming, motionless arachnid in the gloom of the forest floor. Ree giggled at herself as she remembered how she had assumed the defensive posture of poison frogs- up on all fours, plainly visible so that her coloring could do the work of warning away predators. After an embarrassingly long time frozen in that position she realized that it was not a spider before her, but rather its "ghost". Which is when the ghost of an idea began haunting her brain.
There were logistical problems, of course. Not to mention the general ickiness of wearing a spider skin. But imagine Roar's reaction when she crept up and jumped out in front of him! Again, though, the yuck factor was a little high for comfort. Reluctantly, she told herself that wearing animal parts, even just cast-off outgrown skin, was just too morbid. not really her style. Oh well.
It stopped raining. Time to make her way back to her mate. She had last seen him to the north. Casually she wended off in that direction, keeping an alert eye out for tasty snacks and edibles along the way. As always, there was no shortage of bugs and worms emerging after a rainfall. Hopefully Roar was also enjoying a post-rain treat. He got a little grumpy if he went too long without eating.
She waved absentmindedly at a pretty orange toad who must have just woken up from a nap, judging by the groggy expression on his face.
The clean, serene silence of the freshly washed rainforest was abruptly broken by a familiar voice singing a dreadful song. Roar was sounding a Frog Chorus alarm. A second voice, one she didn't recognize, could also be heard. Clearly something was afoot. Ree abandoned her casual stroll and broke into a frog gallop, enabling her to cover the remaining distance startlingly fast. She emerged into a clearing and saw Roar rushing about, and more of those orange toads, and a flock of green toucanets. It was chaos. And it was carnage. All this Ree saw in a glance, and she also saw immediately what she had to do.
Without slowing she veered directly towards the most urgent crisis- one of the toucanets was swooping down on a lethargic toad. For some reason the toad was not doing anything to avoid the bird. Why were all these toads so dopey? It didn't matter. She needed to help. If she timed it right . . . yes! The bird was on the ground, lazily regarding its intended prey with casual arrogance. It didn't see her.
With a mighty heave of her fatigued leg muscles she leapt aboard the green pirate. Even though she was expecting it, it was still a shock when the bird took to the air. The way the wings were fluttering, the speed of the launch, it was more than she had anticipated. Ree held on tight, committed now to an action she hadn't really planned out in detail. Grasping hold of the iridescent plumage she pulled herself along, fighting vertigo and trying not to look down. She had to hurry.
The toucanet was squawking and trying to stab at Ree with its great beak, but it couldn't reach. Ree waited until the next thrust, concentrating fiercely to get the timing right, and grabbed hold. Her stomach lurched and the rational part of her brain kept telling her she was crazy. Crazy! But it worked. She was atop the bird's beak, with nothing the bird could do. With regret but not hesitation, she swiped at the toucanet's eye. The poison on her fingerpads killed the bird instantly. It plummeted to the ground. Ree jumped away and fell too. She landed without dignity, but also without injury.
Breathing heavily, she looked around. The remainder of the flock had flown away at the commotion. The surviving toads, finally shaken from their hazy daze, looked at her in astonishment. They began to sing a song of thanks.
Roar came up to her, hugged her, and said, "I hope you're the last frog to rain down out of the sky today because it's just weird."
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Since I couldn't think of a good song about birds and frogs, I will use a song from the new Raconteurs disc instead- it's called The Switch and the Spur and has a cool poem in it that sort of fits this chapter:

Any pour souls who trespass against us
Whether it be beast or man
Will suffer the bite or be stung dead on sight
By those who inhabit this land
For there's is the power and this is the kingdom
As sure as the sun does burn
So enter this path, but heed these four words,
You shall never return...

Anyways, I'm not entirely satisfied with the action sequence- the description of it at any rate. Action is not my strong point as a writer. But I can practice and get better and this is how I do that. But overall I'm happy with how this turned out.
Dedicated to Taymin who just turned 1 last week and is getting a stuffed froggie from me as a present. I'm sure she'll like the frog better than the chapter, at least for a few years!

Chapter 7- Rana tells a story (Back to the beginning)

It was an unusual day. It was raining. That in itself is not very unusual in a rainforest. But usually it rains . . . rain. Little drops of water. What made today's rainfall stand out was the fact that it was raining frogs. Dozens of orangey gold frogs were falling from the sky.
Roar watched this in amazement from his perch on an aloe leaf. He saw some of them land more or less upright, and were able to hop, albeit with dazed and stunned expressions. Others, though, landed awkwardly and didn't move. Recovering from his surprise, he was just about to go down and help when he was knocked off his leaf and into the mud with a plop. A half second later he broke the impact for the little golden cousin who had slammed into his frond, causing his fall in the first place.
“Are you okay?” asked both frogs at once. There was a brief cacophonous moment as each of them strove to assure the other that he was indeed unhurt. Roar backed away a few paces, to give the other space and to be safe- he didn't want to poison this new-found friend who seems to have had enough misfortune already today. As he examined the cousin he realized it was not a frog at all, but rather a toad. Roughly his own size.
“What's going on?” Roar finally thought to ask. In the chaos it was hard to think straight. Too much going on.
The toad looked around as if noticing his surroundings for the first time. He blinked his dark eyes. He puffed out his caller once or twice, tentatively. He looked bewildered. Finally he said, “I don't know what's happening . . . we were all gathered for . . . and then . . . now we're here.”
Roar grunted as if that made perfect sense. He knew now was not the time for detailed explanations. What was needed now was someone to help these poor creatures out while they were still too lost and confused to think for themselves. In his most soothing voice, he said, “Okay. It's okay. What's your name?”
The toad blinked again and seemed to snap out of his near-trance. “Rico. I'm Rico.”
“Okay, Rico. Good. My name's Roar. What we need to do is get these frogs out of the rain, and see which of them are hurt or, you know . . . “
“Toads.”
“Eh?”
“We're toads, not frogs. But you're right.” Rico drew in a full breath of air into his caller and let out a huge, authoritative blap.
Nothing happened. At least the rain- both of the hydrous and amphibious variety- had stopped. Roar told Rico to keep calling. As his voice carried his kin would hear and draw near, and then they could come up with a more long-term plan. Roar started singing too, a song of comfort. Ree would hopefully hear and come help. She always knew what to do, even if raining toads was outside of her area of expertise.
Still very few toads were responding to Rico's call. Roar decided to approach them and point the way, and offer words of encouragement. That way he could get some inkling of how many were hurt. He had no idea what he would do about those who hadn't survived the fall.
With care and patience Roar went among the . . . what? Victims? What do you call a toad who has fallen from the sky? How does a toad become rain? Could anything become rain? What if some day spiders rained down? Or snakes? Or even himself? Weird.
His idle daydreams seemed to burst to life as suddenly the sky was again full of creatures. But there was nothing unusual about these. Birds! Roar had never paid much attention to birds before, as even the predatory ones left him alone. So his stomach lurched in shock when a beautiful green bird landed and casually scooped up one of the stunned toads with its long yellow beak. Roar realized the toads had no defence against this aerial assault.

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I always have to remind myself that this is just the draft. Like an animatic or storyboard, it doesn't have to be totally polished just yet. Because in all honesty I don't really know if this is really going to be all that much about the Frog Chorus. I can imagine Rana finishing the story and Dart saying, "But what does that have to do with the Frog Chorus?"
"Not really anything but it has raining toads!"
Anyways, the toads are of the species Bufo periglenes, sadly thought to be extinct, but I hold out hope that there are yet some survivors. And the bird is an emerald toucanet, Aulacorhynchus prasinus.
Soundtrack: Singing in the Rain
Dedicated to: For the second week in a row, a Travis. This time it's Travis Hanson, creator of the ever-inspiring Storyteller print, and maybe a Poison Dart-related art too, soon.
Next Chapter

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!
Next Chapter

Chapter 5 (Prologue)

Every night there was a different monster. Ree didn't even pay attention to them anymore. What could be worse than what she'd already seen?
She was still trapped inside the lizard ribcage. There was hardly any flesh remaining over the skeleton, and it would have been an easy matter to escape except her leg was bound by an unfamiliar yellow slimy substance that emerged from the spinal column of the dead lizard, encasing her ankle. It was slightly elastic so Ree had some mobility, but she couldn't stretch it enough to snap it.
Ree thought she would be eaten. She had expected it. Instead the monsters brought her food- mostly ants, and mostly dead. The creatures came and went in silence. For the most part they left her alone, though occasionally they would scrape her back with various appendages. Claws, mandibles or stingers. Anything that was sharp.
Tonight's monster was a snake. Just a snake. No extra legs or missing eyes. No smell of decay. Ree realized it really was a snake rather than one of her captors. She watched as it sidled up to her prison. In the darkness it was hard to see its color, but there was no mistaking its eyes- they were shining red with reflected light. Its forked tongue flicked at the exposed ribs of the dead lizard, tasting and probing. Ree wondered what would happen if the snake ate her. Maybe the snake would die from her poison, but perhaps not before it pulled her to freedom. Probably she would die too, and even though that might not be much worse than her present situation, Ree wasn't ready to give up hope yet.
The snake had definitely picked up her scent now, or more likely sensed her body heat. It stared at her, absolutely still. Ree didn't know why it bothered getting all tense and wary- there was nothing she could do to stop it from doing whatever it wanted. Just for fun she flicked her tongue out at it and said, "Boo!" The snake jerked back in surprise but only increased its concentration on her. There was some consolation in knowing she would be the snake's last meal. And that whatever bizarre purpose her captors had for her would be foiled.
"Come on then, stinky," she said. The snake reared its head back to strike. Ree didn't close her eyes, though she wanted to. Prepared for what was in store, she was determined to face the snake with dignity. With a final breath, she braced herself. And then she saw the snake fall down, dead. She caught a glimpse of a misshapen clawed form dragging the inert corpse away.
The monster things had saved her life. Ree was pretty sure that wasn't a good thing.

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Just a short chapter this week. It was almost even shorter because when I opened my Google Documents page I discovered that the last couple of paragraphs had not been saved. Luckily I write a rough draft in longhand before transferring to computer. I call this version that I post the first draft, as I know there will be lots of work to do when I finally finish. Anyways.
This chapter is dedicated to the good people at Amphibians.org, who would never treat a froggy in the manner that Ree has been treated.
The soundtrack is Rusty Cage, either the Soundgarden original or Johnny Cash's amazing cover.
Next Chapter

Chapter 4 (Prologue)

"That was kind of stupid," Callie said. They had descended to the forest floor in thoughtful silence but now Callie had to release some tension.
"It worked, didn't it? And anyways you said he'd think I was poisonous."
"Yeah, but, now that I think about it, spiders might be immune to frog poison."
If Jumper was capable of turning green, he would have. He stared at Callie with a stunned look on his face. "Really?"
Callie relented. "Nah, I'm just joking. But you're not invulnerable and you'll live a lot longer if you remember that. Seriously."
Now Jumper looked crestfallen. "Sorry," he mumbled.
"Aw, don't feel bad. You did it. Maybe even saved my life- if you hadn't been there, that spider might have snuck up on me and had Callie-cargot for supper. Maybe I should write a poem, an epic, Jumper Versus the Spider!"
"Yeah? You mean it?" Already Jumper was feeling better.
"Sure! Except you need a better name than Jumper. That's like calling you Frog."
"How about Spider Slayer?"
"Um, no. No verbs. Verbs don't make the best names."
"What's a verb?"
Callie ignored him as she pondered names. The best ones were simple and easy to remember. She had once met a pinkbelly toad named Atelopus Flavescens. It didn't exactly roll off the tongue, even an extra-long, poetry-spouting dexterous tongue like hers.
A deep voice interrupted her reverie. "How about Dart? It has the advantage of being a verb and a noun."
They whirled in the direction of the speaker and saw an enormous reddish frog with strange horn-like projections over its eyes. By reflex, Jumper made to spring at it, but Callie casually squished him to the ground with her hand.
Ignoring the struggling froglet pinned beneath her arm, she spoke to the newcomer. "Hello Rana."
"Callie. You can let your friend go- I think I am quite safe from him." Although the big frog's mouth was stuck in a permanent frown, giving him a grumpy-looking expression, there was a clear note of amusement in his gravelly voice.
"I was more worried about him, but you're right, of course." Callie released Jumper who did his best to brush himself off with dignity. A chunk of leaf stuck to his chin eluded him. Callie brushed it off with a wink. "Well, Jumper? What do you say? How does Dart sound to you?"
"Dart. I like it! I can be Dart," said the froglet.
The newcomer chorped his vocal sac. "Then it's settled. Pleased to meet you, Dart. My name is Rana."
Dart looked more closely at Rana. Aside from the immediacy of his size, and the odd horns above his eyes, Dart noticed the intricate pattern of his reddish skin- green and black stripes wound around his body in a curious arrangement. And he had a whole bunch of small warty bumps all over his back. The overall impression was that Rana was very, very old. But it was apparent Rana was waiting for Dart to say something. So he did.
'What are those horns over your eyes? And what about all those bumps on your back? How old are you? You're not going to eat us are you?"
"He might eat you if you keep asking so many question," Callie said. Rana just laughed- a deep, rumbly, relaxed sort of laugh that suggested wisdom and patience. His eyes blinked very slowly, as if he were sleepy. But Dart sensed he was far from sleepy.
"I will answer your questions, little froglet, if you answer mine- how did a blue poison frog come to have a red-eyed tree frog for a mother?"
Dart and Callie were momentarily speechless and then they were both laughing and getting in each others' way to explain how they had met. Less excitable frogs would probably have been able to tell from Rana's chortling that he already knew Callie was not Dart's mother.
"Callie's not my mom! Uh, the truth is, I've never met my mom. Either of my parents, actually. I don't know where they are."
"They weren't waiting for you when you Landed?"
"No, sir."
Rana exchanged a glance with Callie. "I see," he said. "Well, it's getting dark- I suggest we get ready for dark. You and Callie should get some rest. Myself, I'm only just starting my day, or night I should say. See that bromeliad behind you? Ideal for two young frogs like yourself to hide in overnight. I'll just be back here awaiting my breakfast."
Callie appraised the suggested plant- a vase-like leafy green hiding place with a small pool of water collected at the base. Perfect. "This will do nicely."
"Perhaps some poetry before you retire, Callie?"
"Of course." Callie turned to Dart and said, "Rana is one of the leaders of the Frog Chorus."
"Oh," said Dart. Before he could ask what that meant, Callie was already singing.
"Night comes to the rain forest
Time for us to sleep
We give the watch over to the Frog Chorus
Help us to dream deep
Sing your song throughout the night
And wake us at the dawn
We'll take over at first light
So the Frog Chorus carries on."
Dart climbed into the cup of the bromeliad. He fell asleep instantly, and dreamed of music and harmonies.
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Dedicated to Emily Weber, zimeta08 who made me that lovely Poison Dart banner!
Soundtrack: Frogs' Lullaby, Blue Rodeo. I have to admit I've never heard this song but a google of frog and lullaby tells me it exists!
Director's Commentary: Rana is an Amazonian horned frog, Ceratophrys cornuta. I tried to derive his name from the latin name, like Callie's, but Corny or whatever didn't cut it. So I chose Rana since Rana is a common genus name for frogs- though unrelated to C. cornuta. In real life Rana would be quite happy to eat Callie, though Dart would likely be safe since he's poisonous.
Next Chapter

Poison Dart
Chapter 3

"But first, let's eat," Callie said. "You hungry?"
"I'm always hungry," said Jumper. It was true- ever since he had Landed, as Callie called it, he had been starving. "So what do we eat?"
"Bugs. Some plants. Pretty much anything that will fit into our mouths," Callie answered. "But you have to be careful because we fit into the mouths of lots and lots of other creatures. We can eat all kinds of things-and all kinds of things can eat us. Like in my poem."
"Like your poem. I was almost eaten once when I was Swimmer. And I saw other Swimmers get eaten all the time," said Jumper.
Callie nodded. "Yeah. That's life. But you have a big advantage- you're poisonous. Or at least, you will be when you get a little older. That's why you're bright blue. Poison frogs are always really bright as a warning- birds and things know not to mess with you."
"But what about you? You're really bright too, does that make you poisonous?"
"No. My only defense is speed and camouflage." Callie came to a stop and let Jumper jump down to the ground. "Turn around, I'll show you. No peeking!"
Jumper turned around, tempted despite Callie's instructions to watch what she was doing. But he was able to resist and Callie scampered into the fronds of a nearby fern. When she was ready she flicked her tongue out and swatted Jumper on the shoulder with it. Startled, Jumper spun around, but he saw nothing. Callie had disappeared! Feeling a little scared, he hopped first one way then the other, calling her name.
With a laugh Callie's bright red eyes suddenly appeared right in front of him. She sprang down practically on top of him, shouting "Boo!" and holding her orange hands out in front of her.
"Wow that was amazing!" Jumper said.
"Yup, even with all these bright colors on my underside I can still hide really good. And I can climb trees too. Since I'm a tree frog. And actually you can climb too. See your fingertips- the suction pads on them? They're for climbing. Wanna try?"
Naturally he did. So Callie and the froglet played a game of tree tag, Callie hopping and skipping just ahead of the laughing Jumper. "Now you have to call me Climber!" he shouted.
Callie called a halt to the game when she came across an ant trail. Hundreds of little red ants were marching in an unbroken line up the tree trunk. Each one was carrying a little piece of vegetable matter. "Lunch time," she said. "It doesn't get much easier than this- an ant buffet!" Her tongue flicked out three times, and three ants suddenly disappeared from the line. The rest paid no attention and marched stolidly onwards. "Yum! You try."
Jumper sampled the ants and found them to his liking. Maybe not delicious but for a free meal he couldn't complain. He and Callie leisurely plucked ants from the line, clinging sideways to the tree. "It's like they don't even mind that we're eating them," he said.
"Ants are funny that way- there's so many of them that they never seem to notice when you steal a few hundred. But don't get too comfortable- their warriors will be along shortly to investigate. We don't have to worry about them too much either, but they sting a bit when they bite. And sometimes they can swarm in such huge numbers that they can strip you of flesh in a few minutes. But mostly they leave you alone so long as you don't get greedy and disturb their nest."
Jumper examined the tiny little things and had a hard time imagining them stripping him of his flesh. Then one managed to nip his tongue before making the plunge down his gullet. "Ow!" he yelped. "I think I'm full."
They retired to a higher branch to digest their meal. Clinging contentedly, Callie had a hard time fighting the impulse to nod off. Furthermore, she couldn't think of a good reason why she shouldn't do just that. Her transparent eyelids closed and she dozed. It would have been a good nap if Jumper didn't abruptly break the silence by letting out a tremendous belch.
"Buuuurrrrrrppp!" For a second it was hard to tell who was the more surprised, as Callie awoke with a start and Jumper blinked in amazement that such an odious gas cloud could come from him. Eyes wide he covered his mouth with his fingers in embarrassment, but Callie was laughing.
"You call that a burp? Pitiful. Watch this." She closed her mouth and Jumper was astonished as her entire throat seemed to bulge outwards. Just when he thought it would burst she released the pressure by opening her mouth wide. "Blaaaaaaaaaaaghghghghghgh!"
Before long Callie had taught Jumper the trick of using his throat sac to enhance his gastrological ventings. The Frog Chorus had never sounded so gross. It wasn't long before their giggles and burps attracted the curiosity of other tree-dwellers.
"Shh!" Callie put a finger to her lips. She rotated one brilliant red eye significantly towards the tree trunk. Jumper followed her gaze and saw an enormous brown hairy monster with too many legs and eyes looking right back at them.
Jumper screamed.
"It's okay," Callie whispered. "It's a Bird Eater, a spider. It'll eat us if it gets the chance, but right now it's just sizing us up. It probably knows you wouldn't make good eating but it'll gladly take me if it gets the chance."
Motionless, the three creatures warily regarded each other. A mosquito flying towards them sensed the tension and veered away. Jumper knew that he wasn't yet poisonous, but did the spider know it? Slowly, even though his heart was beating so fast he was shaking, he advanced on the spider.
"Jumper, no!' Callie shouted, but he ignored her. Still slowly, but with more confidence, he crept forward. The spider retreated, rotating its body to keep its huge fangs between it and the frog. But it was plainly confused at such unpreylike behavior. Emboldened, Jumper sped up, then suddenly inflated his throat sac and belched a terrifying warning.
The spider turned and fled, to seek easier and less crazy prey elsewhere.

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This chapter is dedicated to the heroic naturalist Sir David Attenborough, whose newest series Life in Cold Blood will hopefully make its way to DVD on these shores soon!
Soundtrack: Jump Around, House of Pain. Had to have that one one of these times right?
Director's Commentary: The spider is a goliath bird eating spider, a native of South America (as are all species in Poison Dart) and the biggest spider in the world. But plainly no match for a tiny poison dart froglet!
Next Chapter

Poison Dart

Chapter 2

Callie the tree frog hung precariously from a leaf. Normally a much better jumper, she had literally landed in this predicament by thinking of a perfect line for her poem-in-progress just as she sprang from her tree branch perch. She swiveled her striking red eyes to see if anyone had seen her. Seeing no one she then thought to survey her surroundings for the best way out of her position. Luck! She was suspended about half a meter directly above a small pond. Flexing her fingerdiscs that kept her attached to the leaf, she dropped and entered the water with a soft glomp.
As she swam to shore she tried to remember the brilliant line that had led to her unscheduled morning swim. What was it? Something about the sweet taste of bug guts. She couldn't quite recall. And it was such a perfect line, too, one worth falling into a chilly pool for. Provided she could actually remember it afterwards. Why did this always happen to her?
"Okay I can do this," she said. "Think. Maybe if I start from the beginning it might come back to me." For the thousandth time she wished she had a big stretchy vocal sac like male frogs. So much better to sing poetry with. But since she didn't have an audience- what else was new? - it didn't really matter. She cleared her throat and began.

"Ode to the Monarch
On wings of orange and black
You migrate to the moon and back
You fly through the jungle so gracefully
I hunt you down so chasefully . . . is chasefully even a word? Well, no matter, it rhymes. Where was I? Oh yeah.
From tree to tree I climb and climb
Patiently I bide my time
Hanging from a branchy rung
You fly by and I shoot my tongue
Your wings taste silky sweet
And butterfly guts - such a treat!"

Yes! She did it! Another masterpiece from the frog genius Callie.
A tiny blue spotted froglet hopped into view in front of her. "That was great!" he said. Callie screamed in terror.
"Don't touch me! I'm warning you! Get away, or I'll use my, my, I have a very dangerous weapon hidden away somewhere and I'll use it on you! And it's close. Very close. Just don't touch me" Callie was backing away, scanning for overhead branches to leap to.
The froglet looked like he was about to cry. "I'm not going to hurt you! Sheesh, what do you think I am?"
"I know what you are- you're a poison dart frog. One touch from you and it's 'Funeral Dirge for Callie the Tree Frog' time. Run along to your mommy now, little froglet."
"But I don't feel poisonous. I'm just a friendly froglet. And, uh, alone. You're the first person I've met. Ever." The little guy looked so sad and lost that Callie's heart went out to him.
"Your mom didn't meet you when you Landed? Weird. You're probably named Jumper, aren't you?"
Jumper started. "How did you know?"
Callie chuckled. "We're all named Jumper when we Land. And Swimmer before that, and Egg before that. Usually your mom gives you a new name right away to distinguish between your siblings. But apparently you don't have a mom, or any siblings."
"Maybe you're my mom," Jumper said hopefully.
"Um, sorry kid. Tree frogs generally only make tree froglets, not poison dart froglets. Besides, I'm not old enough to be a mother yet, I'm barely a full-grown frog myself. Maybe I can help you find your mom, she's probably not far away. Unless . . . " Callie's voice trailed off.
"Unless what?" Jumper prodded.
"Okay, listen kid, usually your mom teaches you cosmology and all that. Tells you what's what and how things work. But one of the first things all froglets need to learn is that life is harsh. Harsh and . . . " "And?"
"Short. Us frogs gotta make the most of our time, because you never know when some tree crab or tarantula is going to eat you. I'm a tree frog so my only defense is speed and using my green skin as camouflage. And making sure my eyes are closed and that my blue and red and yellow belly is hidden away. Not always so easy."
Jumper mulled this over. Callie continued, "I wrote a poem to explain it to my own froglets some day. Wanna hear it?"
"Yeah!"
"Okay it goes like this:
Little froglet have some fun
Learn to hunt and jump and run
Laugh a lot and sing a lot
Remember all the good times you got
Because sooner or later
You'll be ate by a gator"
Callie beamed. That was one of her first poems and she was mighty proud of it. But the froglet's brilliant blue skin looked sort of pale. "I think I liked the first one better," he said. "What's that got to do with my mom?"
"Uh, nothing kid. Poetry doesn't mean anything, it's just silliness. Come on, I'll help you find your mom. You're freshly Landed so you're probably not poisonous yet. Otherwise I guess I won't need to worry about that gator. Jump aboard."
"Woohoo!" Jumper hopped onto Callie's back, just as if she were his mom. "Let's go!"
With a bright blue froglet piggybacking on a green, red, yellow and blue tree frog, Callie imagined she didn't really have either speed or camouflage on her side. Oh well, it will make a great poem some day. Which reminded her. "Say kid, you don't happen to remember the last line of that first poem I recited, do you?"

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Dedicated to that world-renowned kiwi poet, Harvey Molloy!
And you know the soundtrack to this chapter has to be Poets by The Tragically Hip.
Director's Commentary: Callie is a red-eyed tree frog, Agalychnis callidryas, the beautiful tree-nymph. We saw some today at the Calgary Zoo but they were busy sleeping and weren't reciting any poetry at all! When I first wrote this I spelled it poetree just to be funny but I realized frogs only have an oral tradition and have no written language so they wouldn't spell it any way at all.
Next Chapter

Poison Dart

Chapter 1- (don't forget the Prologue)

Egg felt funny. For a long time- forever, in fact- Egg had been content. Happy. He had been unaware there were any other states of being. But now he had new feelings, experiences, and thoughts. Each one puzzling and alien, a surprise. Egg realized that he would not be happy forever. This thought itself was the opposite of happy. It was also something else, one of the new things- it was exciting.
Egg felt like he was going to burst. And so he did. The little sphere that had been his whole world split open and Egg was free. He discovered another new thing and found it was as natural as taking his first breath had been. He swam. Egg realized,as he swam away into his new world, that he was no longer Egg. He was Swimmer.
Swimmer swam. He liked swimming. He explored his new environment and leaned about his new universe. Before, when he was Egg, he was the universe. He liked it infinitely more being a small part of a much larger universe. He soon discovered other eggs, and realized he had been but one of many.
This concept amazed him, but so did everything else. It amazed him even more when one of the eggs burst open and disgorged a funny little wriggling thing.
Before Swimmer could investigate the little wriggler, a more urgent urge intruded on his consciousness. Hunger. Swimmer decided he didn't like this new feeling and went to do something about it. Just as with swimming, he discovered he already knew what to do. He swam away in search of food.
Swimmer was delighted to discover that eating was as pleasant as being hungry had been unpleasant. He loved to eat. So he ate and he ate and he ate. He already seemed to know what was good to eat and what was not, and before long he had discovered which things he liked best. His favorite was the green sludgy goo that floated at the top of the universe. Swimmer ate as much as that as he could handle.
One day while Swimmer was eating the little squiggly wriggly thing from the egg swam up and started eating as well. Swimmer examined the swimmer. The astonishment he felt when he realized the swimmer was just like him was matched in intensity by the exhilarating rush of discovery. Swimmer approached the other swimmer, but it swam away. That was okay- it obviously hadn't yet made the same brilliant discovery Swimmer had. He went back to eating.
After a while Swimmer sensed the other one coming back. He turned towards it. The other stayed a safe distance away, seeming to study Swimmer. Undoubtedly it was realizing the same thing Swimmer had. Swimmer decided to go closer, but before he could a monstrous swimming thing swallowed Other One whole and swam away. Swimmer blinked. For the second time that day he came to an astonishing realization, only this was not accompanied by exhilaration. Swimmer learned he could be eaten.
Armed with this new knowledge, Swimmer passed his time exploring, eating, and avoiding being eaten. He mostly succeeded, too. One time he was practising his newfound ability to poke his head out of the universe when he saw below him another Other One in trouble. It was eating the green goo, unaware that behind it, an Eater was approaching. Swimmer dove down and knocked the Other One away, but the Eater chomped off his tail. It hurt. luckily Swimmer was still able to swim, since over the past few days strange appendages had grown out of his body. Swimmer found he could use these to swim.
Swimmer felt funny. He looked funny, too, missing his tail and sprouting those limbs all over the place. He found himself constantly thinking about the Place Above the Universe. He would go there as often as he could and poke his head into it and look around. It even seemed as though he needed to go there to breathe now. Weird. After a while, Swimmer decided it would just be better if he went and lived there.
Swimmer had a plan. It was brilliant and innovative. he would swim as fast as he could to the Top of the Universe and keep right on going to the other side. Once there he would continue swimming upwards until he was free. Such a daring plan would require a lot of speed, so Swimmer dove to the bottom of the universe and launched himself upwards. Without a tail he wasn't able to gain as much speed as he would have liked, but his rear set of appendages provided some good thrusting power anyway.
With a mighty plop Swimmer broke the surface. To his surprise he wasn't able to simply keep swimming upwards, since this new universe was a completely alien world with different rules altogether. But he found he could maintain a sort of half and half existence where his head was above and his bottom below. Soon he found he could propel himself quite easily in this state, it was just a different way of swimming.
While he was practicing this new skill a funny looking buzzing thing swam overhead. How it swam there when Swimmer could not was puzzling, but before he could devote any time to this new mystery Swimmer's tongue flicked out and ate the Buzzer before Swimmer even realized what he was doing. It was delicious! He saw another one just beyond tongue-reach and went after it. He still couldn't figure out how it was swimming where he could not but that didn't matter- what did was catching it before it got away. The chase led him to an area of the universe where the Bottom and the Top were not very far apart at all.
With a surge of his hind legs, Swimmer burst clear of his old universe, flicked his tongue out, and was rewarded with another tasty Buzzer. Only after he landed did he realize he had accidentally achieved his goal of leaving his old world behind. He blinked. He looked around. What a strange place! But it felt right,, like he was meant to be here. Swimmer jumped, overcome with excitement. As he did he realized he was Swimmer no longer. He was Jumper.

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This chapter is dedicated to Gotthammer Mike, who wrote his own online novel last year and showed me it could be done. Plus his two little tadpoles, Gunnar and Dacy.
Soundtrack: The Egg and I, by Kanno Youko, from the Cowboy Bebop soundtrack.
Director's Commentary- For the sake of the story I had to let "Egg" be born in a pond like the frog ponds I grew up with. But in actuality poison dart frogs have a waaaay cooler way of raising tadpoles- they hatch them on the forest floor in the leaf-litter, and then the tadpoles climb onto the mom or dad's back and they get transported to small pockets of water in trees to grow under the watchful care of the parents. Cool, hey?
Anyways, what's not so cool is this. At first I thought it was a newly dscovered species of black frog, but instead it is an oilspill. And on leap frog day, too.
Next Chapter

Poison Dart
Prologue

Two blue frogs stood guard over a small pond in the rainforest. The gloomy light that penetrated to the forest floor was giving way to night. The raucous daytime cries of bird and beast would soon quiet down, and a more sinister symphony would take over. But this was just background noise hardly worth paying attention to for a pair of poison dart frogs watching over their first clutch of eggs. Most animals knew better than to mess with the black-speckled amphibians. Their eggs, however, were vulnerable.
The male frog, Roar, pounced on a beetle and held up the wriggling morsel to show his mate. "Hungry, Ree?"
Ree eyed the offering. "It's a green harlequin, your favorite. You have it."
"I don't mind giving it to you."
Ree scrunched her eyes thoughtfully. She knew how to settle situations like these. "How about this- throw it up in the air and whoever catches it gets a snack, and loser gets first watch tonight."
Roar laughed. Typical of Ree to turn everything into a contest. Roar was just as happy to share, but it was always fun to play her games. And it was even funner when he won and Ree pretended she had lost on purpose. He didn't often win, though. "Okay, deal. Ready?" Without waiting for an answer, he tossed the beetle into the air.
The dazed insect sensed freedom and had just enough time to unfurl its wings from its shiny metallic carapace when a blue tongue put an end to any thoughts of escape. Ree swallowed and launched into a celebratory flip. "Yum! Tastes like I win! With a slight aftertaste of you lose!" She stretched her arms and yawned. "Well, I'm tired, I guess I'll have a nap."
Roar laughed again. There was never any malice in Ree's boasting, and it was just another of the things Roar loved her for. He obligingly pretended to be miffed at losing. "Alright, alright, enjoy your snack and your nap. I'll wake you up in a few hours." He kissed her and she fell asleep. He was always amazed at how easily she could just nod off. Roar was more of a night frog, himself. He enjoyed listening to the sounds of nocturnal predators and prey. Not to mention the frog chorus.
He tore a piece of grass and stuck it in his mouth to chew, looking like a cowboy with a stalk of wheat in his mouth, though such imagery meant nothing to him. He looked up at the moon. Usually the forest canopy blocked out views of the heavens but there was a gap in the foliage over the pool. He sighed contentedly. A few more days and the eggs would hatch, and the tadpoles would begin the struggle to survive long enough to turn into froglets. And then Roar would be a dad! He couldn't wait.
Perhaps it was just as well that Roar didn't see them coming.
There were two of them. If Roar had seen them, he would have thought that one had far too many parts, and the other one, somehow, not enough. The first was a confusion of spikes and fangs and legs and seemed to be armored with, bizarrely, a snail shell. The other looked like a decaying lizard missing its head.
The first snuck behind Roar and impaled him with a spike. He died without feeling a thing. The spike was from the head of a rhino katydid, and the creature didn't even bother to retrieve it, allowing the entire head to detach from its mishmash body with an audible squishing sound.
The other thing clumsily sidled up to Ree's sleeping form. Standing directly above her, it lowered itself on its legs and enveloped Ree within its ribcage, which was open to the air along the bottom, and only partially enclosed by dried-out skin above. Ree awoke with a start to find herself caught in a prison cell made of ribs. She tried to squeeze through the opening but the ribs snapped shut with a sickening breaking sound. She called for Roar, but there was no answer. Again and again she called as she was carried away into the night.

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I'll try to post a chapter once a week or so, and each will have a dedication and a suggested soundtrack, as well as some director's commentary, like so:
Dedication: The entire thing and today's prologue are dedicated to my wife Michelle who Ree resembles in passing- not that Michelle has poisonous blue skin, you understand.
Soundtrack: What else, Kermit the Frog's trademark song, It Ain't Easy Being Green. Or, in the case of Roar and Ree, blue.
Director's Commentary: The seed of this story began more than two years ago with this story, which thought would be the prologue but as I wrote the first couple of chapters I realized I needed to completely rewrite it. I changed the unwieldy names which were meant to sound like something a frog would say, but kept a kernel of the old ones. Simple is better. Also, I decided it would be better if there were no supernatural monsters, just native flora and fauna . . .
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