A lot of potential candidates had to be skipped for one reason or another: some were too lazy and lackadaisical about their activities; some were too quick to violence against anything that annoyed them even a tiny bit; some were just too intimidating.
However, after such a long time, there was no denying that it was making excuses. The frog was hesitating, which was fair given its previous experiences. But this wouldn’t get it anywhere, would it? It needed to just force itself and choose.
… that one! That one was reasonable enough!
A mole digging divots in the ground. At first sight, there was nothing different from what so many others were doing, but when observed just a little bit more carefully... From the extreme care it put in the act and by how it didn’t just move things without reason, but went back to check and correct what it had done, there must be some hidden, deeper design.
Both isolated enough to be safe from a frenzy and doing something that felt reasonable. There was no good excuse this time. It was perfect, so long as the frog did this right.
So, it pushed down its misgivings and started-
out of a crack in the ground that had been hidden from this angle, something snapped at the mole, too fast to determine what it had been exactly. The frog hadn’t even realized something was happening until it was already over! By the time it had assumed a defensive stance and recovered from the shock, there was no trace anything had happened there. No trace of the mole.
...As if it had needed another reason to hate the aggressive ones.
It found itself climbing the most solitary looking place close by – some kind of plateau – and quite a good way up.
Though not remotely as bad as the wall of the ravine, it was still steep and treacherously unstable in some places. Progress wasn’t easy, but that only further encouraged it. If it was this hard to get up, there should be nothing around at the summit, right?
Unfortunately, when it finally did reach the top, there was only bad news.
Up here, the terrain was mostly flat, with only a few rises. Only the tallest mountains far away were high enough to peek out, giving a very strange delusion: if it hadn’t known the real height – and what a good reminder the chasm behind was, even through the pall of dust – it could have believed this went on forever. Some kind of eternal plains. Which allowed for a perfect view of the creatures that were, indeed, around.
At least they were way less in number and seemingly more docile. And truthfully, the climb had helped in calming down a lot. It might have been the simple act of overcoming an obstacle, the fact nothing had bothered it on the way up, or something else entirely. In any case, it felt less discouraged. Reinvigorated.
What had happened could also be considered lucky, couldn’t it? After all, it might have died too if it had gone towards the mole! And also a learning experience: now it knew to be wary of ambushing predators.
Now, as long as it paid more attention, it should be fine to search for another candidate. It might even be easier up here, where there seemed to be fewer predators despite the good amount of complex creatures. In fact...
There was a beaver, close to a rise. Picking up stones and junk from the bottom, no more than it could easily hold, and carrying them to the top. Once there, it would drop them on top of a pile of… more of that stuff. Then, it would go back down and start again.
The frog settled down to observe from a safe distance, trying to understand.
Just like the mole, there was clearly a plan behind the creature’s actions. There must be something going on with the pile…
However, nothing seemed to be happening: the beaver just kept doing its thing without change. Every once in a while, after dropping the stones, it would spend time nudging the pile around. Then, it would go back to carrying weights.
Making the frog feel conflicted.
Finding something to do should have been enough to satisfy its craving. But was it really? This creature, even though it looked so happy... something was off. It just couldn’t figure out what.
… perhaps if it were to do more than just watch?
Of course, it would first need to walk a few laps around the rise, making very sure that there were no nasty surprises, this time. Then, it would find out the secret!
When the beaver backed off and snarled at its approach, the frog realized there was a little flaw in the plan: it had no idea how to make the creature understand its intentions, that it was no threat. There should be some way to get this across, right? But this time even its instincts came up empty.
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Fortunately, the creature didn’t take offense at the frog’s hesitation and didn’t escalate things more: it just stood there, growling menacingly.
Better to just wait and see then – looking peaceful, while keeping ready for a fight, just in case.
Slowly, the beaver seemed to calm down... and resumed what it had been doing as if the frog weren’t even there.
Good. Now what? It didn’t know what it had expected, but being ignored like this…
Well, the beaver was clearly ahead. The beaver knew what to do.
So, it should do as the beaver did.
pick up… climb… drop down… go back…
pick up… climb… drop down… go back…
It might have underestimated how hard this would be.
The weight wasn’t much at first, but the pace was unrelenting. Its missing arm definitely didn’t help: many times the package had escaped its grasp and tumbled back away. More than once, the frog had gone down with it in a clumsy attempt to recover the mistake, which would result in even more time wasted either immediately – feeding back to health – or in the long run – putting up with aches on top of everything else.
To avoid that, it needed to cradle the stuff against its body. But walking that way, it was hard to maintain the balance, especially where the gravel was coarser and shifted easily under its feet.
All in all, a hard endeavor. And the frog was still ambivalent: it felt that, if it really committed, it could get much better at carrying things. But was that really what it wanted? They’d both done a lot of work, and the beaver was clearly overjoyed, but the frog couldn’t make itself share that enthusiasm. There was still something off with this.
Of course that didn’t mean it would give up so easily. It was nothing if not determined!
pick up… climb… drop down… go back
pick up… climb… drop down… go back…
pick up… climb… drop down… go back…
But was it always a good thing to be this determined?
It slapped the annoyance away-
which caused it to lose its package.
And have to start again.
From the bottom.
The frog looked helplessly at the beaver, but the beaver didn’t offer any reassurance. It just kept bringing stones up, dropping them in the pile, and then down again. The same as they both had been doing since this begun. Forever ago.
Determination was good, as its desperate struggle against the otter had shown. But at some point, maybe it should reconsider what it was doing, if it was the right thing to do?
It had tried to focus on keeping its balance - something that it felt good about - and was proud with the improvements. But that was far from enough. The sense of wrongness had grown too much.
Wherever the feeling came from, it was linked to the pile at the top: no matter how much they both toiled, it didn’t seem to be getting any bigger or better. In fact, it was so close to the drop that material kept falling down. The frog was trying to account for that, being very careful with its delivery.
But the beaver wasn’t. At times, when it dropped stuff after a round, much more material would fall than was being added. There was one pointy, attention-grabbing pebble that the frog was sure had been up and down, time and time again.
This particular detail was immensely distressing. Every time it saw that little thing going down, it felt its sanity being eroded a tiny bit more.
But the beaver was clearly incredibly satisfied. It had to mean something. The beaver must know what it was doing.
It must.
pick up… climb… drop down… go back…
pick up… climb… drop down… go back…
pick up… climb-
Finally, the frog couldn’t take it anymore, and threw away its latest package in frustration. Then, it marched up to the top and sat down on the pile to wait.
It was beyond done.
The mean-looking predator that had been getting closer a while ago, the one strong enough that it could’ve likely slaughtered the both of them… the frog had hoped that thing would come right here. Just to have something different happen, for once.
Alas the creature had stopped at a distance, just circling them and keeping watch, before moving away and off the plateau entirely, for its own strange reasons. The frog had been so dejected the whole time, it hadn’t even felt unnerved.
It was too much.
The more they kept at it, the more that feeling of… bad, increased. This wasn’t what it should be doing. It couldn’t be.
The beaver hadn’t even acknowledged its presence after that initial snarling! Not when it brought up much more junk than it in one trip. Not when it stopped the pile from collapsing down below. Not when it fixed the layout, spreading it so that it wouldn’t fall as easily.
Even that one humming attack a while back hadn’t fazed the beaver! The frog had already expected that more complex creatures wouldn’t be affected as much, and it was nice to have confirmation. But that was many steps further!
No matter what happened, the beaver would ignore it.
And the frog couldn’t take it anymore.
When the creature finally came up again, it tried to make it understand – through gestures and movement and anything it could think of – just how bad it was to bring things up only to have them fall back down, in an endless cycle.
It was ignored again.
Enraged, it decided for a more direct approach: dashing ahead of the beaver, it kicked where it knew the creature was about to drop the rocks, triggering the collapse early and hopefully showing that-
the beaver pounced, and it was only the loud snarl and that the frog had been watching for a reaction that allowed it to dodge and not be thrown off the rise.
But the creature didn’t stop at that. It kept coming, screaming in a frenzy worse than a critter after a humming.
As it struggled to avoid the assault, the frog was at a loss: that section was about to fall either way! More than that, by pushing in that specific manner, it had avoided the much worse collapse the beaver would have caused, according to its experience. And it had extensive experience.
But the absurd creature didn’t seem to care, no matter how the frog tried to surrender and make peace. It kept up the attack with greater and greater viciousness.
Until the frog stumbled... and got bitten on the leg. Fortunately, it managed to kick the angry thing off before it bit down too hard, but still got a deep, painful gash.
Enraged, it was sorely tempted to fight back at that moment. Get back at the beaver for this senseless assault – and for wasting so much of its time! – as it had done with the otter… But ultimately couldn’t, and hobbled away.
It looked over from a round, comfy boulder a good distance away as it fed, wounded leg now mostly fine.
The beaver hadn’t wasted any time before going back to its precious pile. Which was lucky, as it meant it hadn’t chased the frog. Even if it had hoped...
But at least their parting hadn’t ended in too much violence.
It was happy not to have given in to rage and fought back, now. There was a reason why the beaver had attacked. An absurd reason, sure. Born of an inflexible, faulty, misguided and generally inferior mind… but it had been a perfectly peaceful creature until its pile had been kicked.
Also, after all this time together, the frog felt… not a connection really, but some regard for the creature. It cherished whatever small and lopsided thing they had shared, and would feel bad if the beaver were hurt.
That was why it was going to crush the latest, infuriating predator that had been circling around them – more patient than the previous one – and that was now running straight for the rise. No matter its strength.
It thought to take advantage of a lone, distracted creature, did it?
The frog got up, made sure its leg had healed correctly and stretched... Then, it set out on a collision course.
The predator didn’t take long to notice: it stopped abruptly, and the frog had the distinct impression that it was torn, gaze alternating between here and the rise.
It quickened its pace to a run... and soon the creature made up its mind.
Despite itself – despite its dislike for conflict – the frog couldn’t help feeling somewhat satisfied. However this interaction would go, it was bound to be something interesting.
Finally.
