The frog bounced off the walls, rocks piercing its body and ringing against its head... until it smashed onto ground below. All too soon.

  There were deep, terrible wounds all over its upper body. The worst was from the owl’s last squeeze, but it wasn’t the only one that should’ve been lethal, by far. And the state of its lower body... once again, it had managed to lose almost the entirety of it.

  But it was in no danger of dying whatsoever: the filaments would heal it all. What they would heal into, however...

  It could feel them wriggling just under its skin, growing chaotic and steadily slipping out of control. The much awaited new arm now just a flabby lump of flesh, barely hanging on.

  And if things kept going like this, it would be much worse. Losing an improvement the least of its worries: the filaments would knock against its current form, destabilizing and then unmaking it into a foul thing.

  It needed to do something, and do it now.

  But it was too dangerous here, where it could still hear the cries, the hard impacts on rocks and the tearing of flesh. Far too close. The cave would only protect it for as long as the owl had something else to do.

  It rolled painfully upright, or the closest it could come to upright in its condition, and slapped away the annoyance.

  It needed to crawl inside one of the deeper crannies… that one should do.

  Moving forward was hard – there was way more crawling than expected in its new life, wasn’t there? – though strangely enough, not as hard as it should have been: even if the filaments were now completely outside of control, they still seemed to respond to its needs and were excreting some sort of undulating, oblong growths quite useful in propelling it body forward.

  What terrible thing they meant for the transformation’s state was a worry for later. It would still be better than death.

  Another awful, awful screech sounded what felt like right above, and the frog lay down completely onto the ground in terror. It knew this was just blind fear: the owl couldn’t be there, the angle was wrong for that. Still, its body refused to snap out of it, that any moment could be its end.

  So it nudged the little growths, and they were independent enough to keep carrying the rest forward. They’d been doing more than its limbs regardless.

  Engaging with them – validating their existence in any way - was probably a terrible idea that accelerated the downward spiral of the transformation, but that also allowed it to reach the cranny sooner than expected. And for good measure, it kept going deeper and deeper.

  Until the convulsions forced it to stop.

  It wasn’t just a matter of a bad feeling or not having control anymore: the filaments were a problem, now.

  Bigger growths started to swell and deflate all over its body. It moved instinctively to thump down on them, managing only to increase its panic. And they were maybe the least of its worries.

  Indescribable things were peeking out of its old stump. The flaccid attempt to a new arm must have fallen off some time ago.

  And those little things that had dragged it in here had started pulling in different directions, as if trying to tear it in pieces.

  There was nothing it could do. It was too occupied to even slap the annoyance away for the morale boost.

  Trying to assert dominance over the filaments, to command them... was useless. This was worse than having lost dominion over them: they had no more unity of purpose, and so there was nothing to order around. Each was doing its own thing, joining with others for no reason, only to just as senselessly break off and fight against them.

  Worst of all, they were losing drive. Settling down.

  Once they did, the transformation would end. And the frog would be stuck with whatever was there at that time. It had thought it could endure, and eventually be fine with it. It had been wrong.

  All this to end up as a mockery of itself! Why had it started the transformation when it had known it couldn’t be interrupted? Why had it ignored that feeling that something was wrong!?

  In its panic, it tried to feed, even knowing it was…

  …

  … it wasn’t useless!

  Down here, where the currents were distant and slow to come, the filaments responded instead. After ignoring everything else, they responded to this. And with such a readiness that almost caused it to fumble and have them rebound into chaos.

  Why hadn’t it tried this sooner? This wasn’t like back then, after the otter’s fight: physical damage didn’t matter, so there was no reason feeding shouldn’t do the trick.

  With this insight, the filaments gradually calmed down from their their frenzy to follow along its lead. What this would do – what it implied, or if it was at all beneficial – was a mystery.

  It might have gained back no real control over them, and there might be too few to even think about completing the transformation.

  But while while under its guidance, they weren’t ravaging its flesh or making it feel quite as awful. Which was certainly a step in the right direction.

  It started feeding with more… purpose. Actively appealing to the filaments: bringing them to its flesh, pressing them into it, and along to the flow of its essence.

  Too much of its body had gone numb for any degree of certainty, but this seemed to be doing something. In fact, it might be the only chance.

  And so it didn’t let up. Down here, it was only the frog and the filaments.

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  It kept up with whatever it was that it had been doing probably far beyond necessary, the filaments long since replaced by what scarce scraps from the currents could reach down here.

  Still, it really needed the comfort the act of feeding brought: this had been one of the hardest challenges it had faced.

  Only once it didn’t feel one step away from doom did it finally touch around its body, testing the consequences of this endeavor… and sagged in relief.

  The worst fears hadn’t come true.

  Everything felt mostly as it should have, as it had been before its misbegotten attempt. It hadn’t turned into something ridiculous.

  However...

  Not everything had recovered as it should have.

  The arm was gone again, of course, but that was to be expected. In hindsight, what it had done amounted to folding the filaments according to its essence, and that essence’s internal flows. In a sense, it had transformed, once again, into the frog. So it couldn’t have become more than it already was.

  If anything, it would be lesser, because there hadn’t been quite enough filaments to offset the damage. What remained to be seen was just how much they’d fallen short.

  With some trepidation it got up… and stumbled forward.

  The most immediately apparent problem was one leg that wasn’t as flexible, as powerful, as it had been. Nothing crippling fortunately. But more complex movements might be out of reach now. And trying to put too much load there – as with a one-legged jump – would be a bad idea.

  Then there was this widespread sensation of sluggishness and weakness. As if everything, every part of its flesh, had lost a tiny little something. Had become just a bit slower, a bit less potent.

  … nothing else felt immediately compromised, thankfully. But this was already quite a lot.

  The frog felt much less capable overall. Enough that if the fight with the snake could happen once again, it wasn’t sure if it could win so easily. Actually, it would probably lose by quite a margin, to be honest.

  This was the prize it had conquered after going through all that.

  Glorious.

  To think that it had survived against the most dangerous creature it had ever seen, only to later go through the hardest trial yet… and survived almost intact!

  A little weaker and slower, sure. But that could be rebuilt in time. Something it had always believed and that only felt truer now, for some reason. Perhaps a remnant from the botched transformation?

  In any case, despite all that it had lost, it only felt elated. And ready. As if it could just stride out of here and reclaim its old strength in no time. That and more, all for the taking. It found itself moving towards the exit before knowing it.

  But as it crawled out, the sounds of battle above intensified. In particular, an immensely terrible screech that made it unconsciously retreat back into its hiding place. Unmistakable. Whatever was going on up there must be making the owl angry. Good.

  But also terrifying.

  The frog backtracked to where it had started and deeper, worried to death that the owl would be waiting just outside, ready to squash it like the mouse.

  Never had it been so scared of another creature as it was of this one.

  … but what else could it do? Live once again in a crack in the ground?

  No. It needed to get away. And now, while there was still a fight up above to cause a distraction. Keep low and follow the trenches and cracks until it got far enough away. The same way it had gotten in.

  Leave behind this horrid place and that horrid creature that had assaulted it so badly, after it had only tried to help.

  Though it wasn’t entirely sure what its feelings about the owl were exactly... On one side, the creature had attacked. And so they were enemies. And so it needed to die.

  But on the other, the frog was safe now. So long as it could leave, there wouldn’t be danger anymore. Why try to change that?

  Were they really enemies, now that there was no reason for them to fight? Should it be important that they’d fought before?

  Even if it wouldn’t have positive thoughts for the creature anytime soon, it was conflicted… not that it could even tickle the owl at its current strength.

  In any case, it might not have discovered what it sought: why the creature felt so very special and what the deal with the mini-owls was.

  It might not have made progress in its greater quest.

  It might not even know what was happening up above.

  But it had things to do, and an entire world out there that surely had much more to offer, without this kind of lethal danger.

  There was only one reasonable thing to do.

  It slowly, very carefully, peeked out of the crevice, wary of being immediately beheaded. Fortunately the creatures below had other things to worry about, and its carefully chosen spot didn’t disappoint, allowing for a perfect view: the owl was engaged in a fight with another really big thing. A confrontation so fast and ferocious that it was hard to identify the other exactly, but it felt almost the owl’s equal.

  The frog couldn’t help but immediately dive back behind its hiding spot. Where had something like that come from?

  The owl had already been terrifying on its own. There was definitely no need for yet another reason to run away.

  … But soon it peeked out once again. Whatever amount of time recovering down below had taken, the owl certainly hadn’t been idle.

  There were bodies of creatures scattered all around, shockingly many. And more were being added by the moment.

  The small owls were still alive – except the one that the mouse had been dragging away, lying dead on the ground where the frog had last seen it – and continually harassed by predators. Unfortunately for the predators, the owl kept finding time to disengage and swipe the problem away.

  Which was most likely the reason why it couldn’t seize a decisive advantage against the other dreadful creature. Fighting while having to defend the critters must be quite hard. A wonder it was managing so well, truly.

  And there was more. A huge figure, looming between the many crawling at the edges, stomping on any that dared stand in the way.

  A badger. It felt monstrous.

  Where were all these ridiculous creatures coming from? All its travels without meeting even one of them, and now they were popping out left and right!

  The predator was advancing slowly, struggling to fit between the rocks and the ragged terrain. But it was advancing, and its intent was clear.

  Just as it was clear that the frog was out of place. What was is it doing in this clash of titans?

  It had found what might be found. Now it needed to leg it, not to try uselessly to find something that wasn’t there: yes, the owl was a strong and strange creature, but that meant nothing. How was the frog supposed to get anything useful from that knowledge?

  No matter its wishes, it needed to be realistic: there was nothing for it here.

  … But the whole arrangement must have some secret, clearly. That the owl kept those critters was very strange on its own, and even more when considering so many scavengers were rushing here.

  No, there was no way to find out more without getting closer, and it had wasted its only chance to do so. With the owl and all the others focused there, it was unthinkable.

  It needed to stop hesitating! Resist the temptation and get out, before all those things around approached, especially the badger. Things were about to… what was that one in the back doing?

  … A lizard, that felt as weak as the frog itself, maybe even weaker. However, even from here, it felt… peculiar.

  A feeling similar to... But what was it doing skulking around at the edges? Even if it was so far away that it was a wonder how the frog had spotted it in the first place, anything at their level should stay far away from here. Very far. How could the lizard not understand that? Was it simple?

  Though it was certainly far more approachable than the owl...

  ...

  The frog slipped back inside its crevice and started moving towards the lizard, focusing deeply on staying hidden.

  Running around since the plateau, with all the dangerous situations it had encountered, having to sneak around was very common. But it hadn’t ever focused on it too much, because it had been easy.

  Now, with the frenzy above and the incoming chaos when the badger eventually joined in, a casual attempt was no longer enough. Both right now and for the future, since incredibly strong creatures might come up again.

  So, when it came to an opening of its crevice and needed to cross into the open to reach the next, it did so skulking around. Low to the ground and pressing itself against the rocks, as if trying to disappear into them.

  There was a moment of terror and paralyzing fear when the badger passed by, much closer than expected...

  but the predator didn’t react, and soon disappeared behind the rocks.

  Leaving the frog a bit conflicted: that one had felt impossibly strong up close, even more than the other challenger back there. If the badger teamed up with it, for as strong as the owl was, it would fall.

  Which left the frog feeling conflicted again: if something else killed the owl, then the frog wouldn’t be able to in the future. In case it came out that it wanted to, of course.

  But there was nothing to be done, and it had concerns within its strength to deal with. In fact… where had the lizard gone?

  The frog slapped away the aptly named annoyance, always there to ruin its best moments-

  and barely avoided colliding with the lizard, that had managed to skulk up close.

  It was quite adept at sneaking! though it was no snake.

  … no, on second glance, it wasn’t that good: the lizard could move well with the terrain, angling itself to hide most of its frame. But that was useless against one already looking in the right direction, or that knew something was there.

  It wasn’t even up to a casual attempt by the frog, much less when it was actually trying, like right now. As shown by how it kept pawing around unaware that it was watched.

  Still, up close, that first hunch was confirmed: this creature was... special. An impression similar to the one from the owl, though they were obviously incomparable creatures. There was just something more to it.

  Whatever it was doing, whatever it was trying to find, had to be important.

  As the sounds of battle spiked hard back at the nest, the lizard hesitated, laying even lower… but it didn’t stop searching, until it reached a body in the middle of a more open area, and started digging into it.

  It was hard to hold back the surge of upset at yet another creature raging on a corpse. This thing was supposed to have something in common with the owl, not with the snake!

  But then a gem floated up, and started melding with the lizard.

  ...

  The frog could do nothing but stand there astonished, and kept staring aghast for a long time, until the gem was almost gone.

  How had it not realized that there still was a…?

  Then, it was stunned even more as its gaze wandered, taking in the treasures around: almost all the bodies here still had their gems!

  How had this happened!? Usually predators would immediately dig them up and feed on them. And if they were prevented from doing so for any reason, scavengers would rush in. They were ravenous.

  Just like this lizard was. The gem hadn’t even completely disappeared that it was already moving onto the next body, with a joyful, almost frenzied expression.

  What could be happening here that had prevented others from…

  Why had the lizard stopped? It looked as if it was listening to something. But there wasn’t anything to hear, only absolute silence.

  … Silence? Wasn’t there a fight back-

  a giant talon came crushing down on the lizard.