“She just had to eat that stupid mushroom!” The spider growled, pushing his way through the skinny, white poplar trees. “Two hundred mushrooms and she just had to eat the enchanted one,” he stopped to look at another patch of mushroom fungus.

The Chameleon had eaten a mushroom he enchanted for a brew, and had gotten sick. “And I have to go find the same mushroom, so I can make her better.” He said half to himself and half to a sleepy looking frog on a moldy stump. The frog, as most frogs, didn’t bother himself. “Why is she making me do this, my teacher well knows that she could just reverse it herself, he said accusingly to the frog.

“I don’t even remember where I got it.” The spider said, looking in a hollowed out log. The frog stared at him. “Ok,” he said sitting down, “clear your thoughts.” He had a bad habit of letting his emotions cloud his mind. What was that spell that enhanced your smell? He thought for a moment. “Ell ost og” He said, touching his nose. Suddenly he became aware of all the smells of the forest, only they were as strong as if they had been right under his nose. The mushroom he was looking for, or smelling for, had a musty, stinky smell he remembered. The different smells passed through his senses, and after a while, he found the smell he was smelling for. He walked in the direction of the mushroom, and found it hiding in a rotten tree trunk. “Da” he said, dissipating the spell.

He picked a few of them, and placed them carefully in his bag. He readjusted the brown, ragged cloak on his back and started home. The day was pretty enough; the sky had a gorgeous blue hue to it. And it was just the right temperature, cool and windy. The Spider trekked through the brush, and past the stump with the listless frog. As he walked past, a sound made him jump.

“Hoy there boy!”

The Spider froze; his adrenaline rushed, making his sight and hearing fully alert. “Who’s there?” He said, looking around the empty forest.

“Me,” said a deep guttural voice. It was the frog! “Go, you must go. It’s no use not going. If you don’t, just go!”

“Go where?” The spider asked aghast.

“That way,” the frog pointed with his webbed hands.

“That way? Why?”

“Just go, stupid human.”

“What about my sister?”

“I’ll take care of her, just go.” The frog said impatiently.

The spider stood for a moment, thinking. Why in the world was a frog talking? And why was he giving him orders? “All right,” the Spider said, “what am I looking for?” The frog didn’t say anything more. The Spider took one last look at the strange frog, and headed off in the direction he had pointed. All he saw was trees, trees, and more trees. And when he had walked five minuets, he suddenly realized that this wasn’t his forest, impossible! He knew every tree, every leaf here. He panicked, “where am I?”

Then his mouth gaped open. “Good God what is that?” A dome, a huge dome was just sitting there. Like a massive white elephant. After a few minuets, he carefully approached the door with his hand on his short sword, what was this thing doing here?

__________________
Used to be adopted byAeffles

I feel guilty not being on here very often