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Chapter 33: Race against time

  This had seemed so clever in the frog's mind.

  Something hard rapped it on the head.

  Easy and straightforward: since it had missed how the dark one had forced its way through, it would just take another little idea from that same source.

  One hand was caught into a joint and almost got squished into dust, pulled away just in time.

  Not that it had needed to watch that creature to know this was possible, what with how many times its friends had climbed over the bison. Why, during their last rush here the frog itself had been the one throwing some of them aboard!

  A hurling... something, smacked it on the flank, almost throwing it off.

  And if the sheep protested at its use for transportation, then the frog could show it what its moves were really good for.

  It should have been very easy.

  Indistinct masses of hard flesh closed in on the sides, squashing it in the middle, grinding its body between them. It was an immense struggle not to let go....

  How was it supposed to know that the ride would be so bumpy?

  ... and when they relented, one lacerated the side of its leg as a parting gift.

  How was it supposed to know that the sheep's skin, even though it looked so very fluffy and deliciously climbable, was this slimy? Combined with the frog's own, even worse sliminess, no wonder that it had slipped down and down, until it was only barely clinging for dear life onto the underbelly, battered by careless legs.

  And if things kept going like this, even its tremendous endurance would soon-

  something snapped, and in the next, terrible moment, the frog found itself falling onto the ground, clutching a useless patch of fur.

  Of course, with its moves-powered dexterity, it bounced back up immediately and had a moment of blessed peace in the space opened up by the sheep's passage.

  Then that space closed, and the frog found itself missing the sheep's mistreatment.

  It was in the owl's claws once more, squeezed so hard the very essence was coming out of its body. Pressed down so cruelly they were draining it!

  It tried to claw, shove, pull, throw... but for every strike of its that hit the mark and made some creature move, it was clawed, shoved, pulled and thrown back many times more.

  It was all useless! This was not a fight it could win! There was no opponent, no... how could it survive this? How could it get out!?

  Absolute panic was seizing its limbs, draining them of strength much quicker than usual. It found itself closing up, rolling into some kind of standing cocoon, trying to at least protect its most fragile spots.

  It didn't know for how long it stood like this, simply absorbing the impacts and hoping that the terrible situation somehow solved itself. Or perhaps feeling nothing at all but the desperate struggle not to get crushed.

  And then there was suddenly space. Just a tiny bit, but it was a wonder after that torture.

  Looking up, creatures were rushing away, finally reducing the pressure... without apparent reason?

  It must have been its moves that compelled the frog to look even further up... and recognize the hoof of something big stomping down.

  ...

  As it lay in the small crater with the others too slow to move - and in their case too slow to roll into a nook and avoid being turned to dust - the frog realized that it had to get out. Its moves were useless here. It was just a contest of strength, and strength was exactly what it lacked. It needed to get away or the next hoof would be the end.

  Its last remaining confidence left. Eyes roved onto the ground, searching desperately, and it didn't get up until they found what it wanted, even letting other creatures walk over its body as they rushed in to fill the space left by the wandering giant.

  But finally, the frog found a suitable crack in the ground. Fortunately, creatures around didn't jostle or stomp on it too much as it rushed for its oldest haven, likely afraid to end up like those others on the ground. Which was very lucky, since it was in no state to fight back. Even wiggling inside the tiny cave was giving it trouble.

  The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  But contrary to its fears, nothing prevented its escape, and soon it was safely moving onto pliable-

  The gravel that was here in place of rocks slipped, disturbed under its weight.

  And then the frog found itself slowly but inexorably dragged downwards, trapped in a languid, but unstoppable landslide.

  It didn't need to look down to feel the swirling abyss of nothing where this descent would end.

  It had traded one awful death for another!

  Panicked once again, it scrambled all over to find some kind of handhold, anything at all in here that could bear its weight and not tumble down with it.

  Unfortunately, there was nothing but gravel here. Gravel and a few other unfortunates that had tried to find refuge underground. And so the frog clutched at them, accomplishing nothing at all besides getting attacked by panicked little things... and used as a springboard by one bunny!

  ...Until it found between its hands some kind of creature that was small, but with a long, tapered beak. In a feat of inspiration - or most likely simply by having tried everything else - the frog jabbed it as hard as it could into the ground, and then wiggled it around trying to dig as deep as possible.

  Unbelievably... it found something firmer, and the makeshift handhold endured. Which finally did stop both their descent.

  Then it stood there, trying to quell its panic and occasionally swaying out of the way of some other creature stumbling to its demise, lest the added weight condemn them too or another hateful bunny appear.

  For how long it kept hanging, hoping the beaked creature didn't decide to struggle and kill them both, it didn't know.

  Perhaps there was something to be learned here, about overconfidence and not reaching for too much? But frankly, the frog wasn't really in an introspective mood and was very intent on avoiding thinking that, even if it did decide to admit defeat and run, there was no way back.

  ...

  And then, there was a loud reverberation in the air. Initially, it was confused - which went a long way to show how out of it the frog was. But soon, with a spike of fear, it recognized the sound: the same thing that played out each time the guards went on a true offensive. And it meant the worst thing possible.

  The knight had come out.

  Which meant it was time to stop lazing about and trying to avoid thinking just how bad and inescapable this situation was, and move before that awful creature took what should be the frog's!

  ...But how?

  Maybe if it had another beaked creature it could use both to sort of 'step' sideways, but none had come up. As things stood, it would start tumbling down again the very moment it pulled the thing out. And a quick, anxious look down there revealed just what- Wait...

  was that exquisitely solid rock on the other side of the chasm?

  ...

  Before a higher, smarter part of its mind could reassert reason, the frog pulled the beaked creature out and threw it up, out of the cave - both as thanks for the service rendered and to eliminate any chance to back off from this crazy plan.

  It started to slide down again, and panic mounted back as the mouth of the abyss came closer and closer. Absolutely certain death looming ever closer.

  Every instinct inside wanted the frog to throw its body away, to scramble back any way it could. But that would be a self-defeating strategy now. It had committed, and there was only one way forward. Which that was to jump...

  at the very...

  last...

  ... moment!

  a kick against the ground, stronger than the frog had ever accomplished and than it believed itself capable of, and it went flying, suspended over certain death…

  to then slam against the rocky wall.

  A very hard landing, and it immediately started to fall back down- but caught itself easily enough. This surface here was much more stable.

  Despite the terrible, absolute, paralyzing dread of the experience...

  ... that had been far too close, hadn't it?

  ... the frog was soon on the move, desperately crawling sideways in search of... it didn't know what. It didn't even know for sure if it was trying to run away or to get to the bison before the knight. If the knight was even headed for the bison in the first place, which was absolutely not a foregone conclusion, given the extreme unpredictability of the creature...

  NO! There would be no tempting itself out of this!

  The frog wasn't going to let them win!

  Even if it had no idea how to get there. Even if it didn't know how to find its way through these horrible tunnels, or where they led to, or whether they even extended up to its objective, or which way its own body was oriented.

  Usually the caves around the collateral would be quite easy to navigate, but these ones were twisting and turning all over the place. It had no idea where it was going! It would have peeked outside and seen if it was going in the right direction at least, but that was impractical right now, both because going back up would risk it slipping again, and because there was no way it could see anything with all that mass above.

  It would have to go blind.

  But that shouldn't be so hard, should it? It knew where the bison’s body was - what with how long it had spent looking at it longingly - and knew where the castle and its friends’ previous camp was. And it even kind of knew where it was right now!

  All this should be enough to find its way, at the very least to a closer point. These tunnels seemed to go long enough for that.

  So the frog renewed its crawling efforts, moving through the tunnels towards the direction it knew the bison was.

  It was an absolutely excruciating trip.

  With rocks that kept giving under its hands, dead ends forcing it to backtrack or deviations that took it too far the wrong way or turned too sharply up or down. Or when, in one scary situation, an entire ridge suddenly dropped straight down into the abyss, with no warning whatsoever.

  All the while, the knight's terrible sound blared out, louder and louder, along with the impacts of creatures mauled above.

  There was no time! It needed to hurry, before that awful thing stole its treasure!

  Luckily, very soon, the frog could feel it was getting closer. And when it found a crack onto the outside, one that didn't even have much of a crowd in front, it knew it had succeeded. It could almost feel the bison’s gem already in its hand.

  With but a small peek outside to check that the way was free, the frog jumped out… and looked around in confusion.

  But it was short lived, soon replaced by crushing defeat.

  While the knight might be taking the bison’s body in this very moment, the frog was back at the start.

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