But the frog had had enough.

  It twisted out of the way, so that the spike pierced its side rather than dead center - hoping that its though skin would manage to weaken the strike once again. No such luck: the thing went all the way through easily, in a burst of pain the likes of which it hadn't felt in a while. But it endured, and grabbed at the arm that was skewering its flank.

  And pulled.

  The guard didn’t budge even a bit, but when it tried to recover its spike, it got a bunch of frog along too.

  The enemy tried to make distance, to interpose its leg and kick it away. All too late: the frog was already onto it - in a maneuver that would have ended very differently had the guard not been one-armed - but that was entirely appropriate now.

  It clung onto its enemy as tightly as it could, wriggling closer, trying to use its position as defense to negate that overwhelming power. Until it managed to climb onto the thing's back. For all its newfound strength, the guard didn't seem able to do much about this situation besides just jerking around harder.

  The frog thought it could finish what it had started on the arm unobstructed, but the spike wiped this notion away almost immediately, plunging under its shoulder. The thing must have slipped out of its flank at some point... and then back in, in a much more convenient position for the guard, which was already making use of it. The toughness of the frog's skin was keeping the spike from moving too much, but it was only a matter of time. And also incredibly painful.

  But the frog was focused. It wouldn't back down. As the guard twisted the spike inside, it responded in kind with the creature's arm. It wasn't just a matter of perseverance: if it let go now, the enemy would pin it to the ground. There would be no escape.

  And so it pushed with its legs. It pulled and gnawed and ripped and tore apart.

  Until it found itself in the air...

  and then crashed onto the ground, confused.

  But despite its dire state, it was quick to gather its wits: it had won the contest. The spike was still lodged deep in its shoulder, ripped out arm hanging onto it even now, grip unbreakable.

  But it had won.

  Ahead, the guard stumbled back, and tried to retreat, but fell down pretty soon.

  Immense relief filled the frog: it had neutralized its opponent. It could just leave. The thing was slowly getting back up, but wouldn't be able to hurt anything, now. Not only because it missed both arms: whatever mysterious thing had filled it before, it was gone now. For its part, the frog felt that all the damage it had sustained in the fight, for how deep, would heal in time or with some feeding. It had been good enough at defending the things that truly mattered.

  Even so... this creature had attacked out of nowhere. Caused tremendous amounts of pain, and almost killed it. Worst, it might rile up its companions and come back with their help. Even in such a sorry state, it could still be dangerous.

  So it would die.

  The frog got back up and immediately tried to remove the spike inside... but it was lodged too deep to remove right now. I could wait.

  It walked towards the enemy slowly, enjoying the flipped roles. It caught up to the guard in no time and jostled the creature back to make it stand still, trying to find something viable, anything it had missed. No such luck.

  Though on second glance... there was a joint under the head too - in the area that the frog felt confident in identifying as the neck. It was far less vulnerable an area than in any other creature, but still had more give than almost any other side of this shell. And there wasn't much reason to attack the legs.

  Time to go back to its tried and true method, yet again.

  It climbed back on top of the guard and grabbed onto its head, jerking hard to the side while trying to get its claws in. The thing attempted to fight back, but other than some weak headbutts, there wasn't much it could do. Flailing about actually worsened its situation by making it lose balance and fall to the ground - the frog made sure to land onto the enemy’s head and back, of course.

  Then, it was just a matter of persistence, with the guard's struggles growing weaker and weaker.

  Until they stopped completely, when something snapped inside. Far before any progress had been made with getting through the shell.

  Not that the frog would take any chances: it didn't stop gnawing and scratching... until it heaved the head completely off the body and threw it far away. Only then was it satisfied, and collapsed on its back.

  It reflexively tried to feed while contemplating how terrible this experience had been, the spike still hanging from its shoulder a very good reminder.

  How had the creature been so strong? Its instincts had never been this mistaken before.

  When it was on top at first, it could feel the guard's flesh squeezing and flexing, the strength behind that. It was impressive, but nothing special all things considered. Where had that immense burst come from?

  Its gaze returned to the body of the strange thing... and was aghast at seeing it move.

  But not to get up: some growth was filling its neck, taking the place of its head. Sealing whatever was inside. The gem, probably. Or perhaps not quite?

  Obviously one would be in there as with all creatures, and there were most of the signs of one. But many more were missing, and having some bizarre, twisted alternative of a gem wouldn't be the first strange thing going on with the guard.

  How could its body do anything when it was so clearly dead? The snake had done something similar, but this felt different.

  And that ineffable thing, the source of the guard's increase in power... Though frog wanted nothing to do with it directly, it might be related to its own delusion, that other thing that it longed for deeply. The first clue after so long grasping at shadows. It might actually be real. Sort of.

  And clues might be hiding right there.

  Well, it had come to find things out, and there was only one way to. Getting through the newly formed shell wouldn't be easy, but it had gained some free time.

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  As soon as this thought finished forming in its head, it was denied by an sudden, terrifying sound: a chattering. Could the creature still... but no, it was very dead. And this was much too soft to be coming from it. As if coming from far away...

  Filled with dread, the frog turned... to see the entire patrol looking from afar.

  Once more, there was a moment when both sides stood perfectly still, staring at each other.

  Then, that whisper came again, of something unknown, and yet known. Something that couldn't be. But real thing or not, it slipped into the guards, and they started whining.

  And then the staring contest was over as they sprinted forward, much faster than their weakened, battered kin had been.

  The frog immediately reacted, jumping to its feet- and stumbled back to the ground: its leg felt almost completely useless. It looked down, desperate, and saw that even those weak headbutts before hadn't been that weak after all.

  It wasn't much damage, really. Nothing that wouldn't heal easily. This wouldn't stop it! The guards were still far away and there were plenty of places to hide in. In fact, there was one right there! It started to crawl-

  and was immediately yanked back by the contraption stuck in its shoulder.

  It ignored the spike and kept pulling, knowing there was no time to worry about it now. The whine from behind was getting louder and louder... Even if the creatures were far away, they wouldn't be long at the speed they were going!

  The frog moved. Both the guard's arm and spike kept getting snagged everywhere. Its own arm they were digging at the base of was getting less and less responsive. Its leg was twitching. But there was no time.

  Uncaring of the pain, it dragged itself forward until it reached its destination.

  There was an awkward, horrible moment where the contraption got lodged sideways into the walls, but with one last, determined tug, it got it off, and slipped into safety. With their rigid plates, the guards would never be able to get in here.

  Still, it entered stealth mode and didn't stop moving down and away until it couldn't hear the guards' clanks and chattering anymore, until the lightheadedness made itself known. It knew down here was dangerous in this state, with the rarefied essence and the ground so unstable, but it didn't care. It just wanted to be away.

  When it finally felt far enough and found a ledge to rest in, it laid down and tried to feed, without thinking of anything.

  An unknown amount of time later, it finally felt ready take in the damage. It wasn't good.

  The gash on its chest was already fine, and the same with its leg and most everything else. But the arm was far worse than it had feared, barely hanging on by a thread. Looking at it now, the limb would never heal. The frog would never use this arm again. And as it was now, it would just be a hindrance.

  So, it gnawed the thing off for good - which didn't even hurt much and took disquieting little effort with how far gone it was- and threw it down into the void.

  It listened as the bounces of a former part of its body against the rocky walls grew softer and softer.

  Until there was silence again.

  It didn't know what to think. Nor how it felt.

  At the very least, it had been on the other side from the one it had lost against the otter, so its body hadn't become that unbalanced. Still, it should really try to be careful with the others from now on if it didn't want to end up 'unarmed' like that guard.

  This was yet another thing piling up against it. Even though it had learned much about the guards and how they fought - and was sure that this fight had definitely been worth it - it felt weaker than before.

  It wouldn't win a fight against another guard, even one as weakened as its dead enemy. Much less against a group. If that patrol had caught it... This was vital information, and it changed absolutely everything.

  They couldn’t make it.

  How were they supposed to go through those lines in front of the castle? It was clear now how the guards were making such a slaughter. Even with the bison's strength, even with all its friends together, it wasn’t sure they could-

  Its friends!

  The frog rushed back through the underground and then up between the masses as fast as it could. Its leg still needed more feeding to get back to perfect shape, but there was no time to waste if it wanted to have a chance to...

  It was too late.

  Their haven was empty. Its friends all gone.

  The grasshopper was gone.

  It looked around frantically, but there was nothing to be found. They'd left without the frog. It darted upwards to the edge of the hill, fearing what it would see.

  At first, there was nothing. No way to distinguish them from the mass of creatures crawling in the valley. Then, it thought to look closer by... and saw the bison, much nearer than expected. The frog found itself running without realizing it had moved. It didn't let its mind go to the others: there was this one friend right here, right now, that needed warning. That was all that mattered.

  It should have known the big thing wouldn't be far: it was by far the slowest to get moving. So much so, that the frog caught up in no time. Immediately, it tried to grab its friend and pull it back; tried to climb onto it, punching down; it even got on top of its head and jumped repeatedly. To no use.

  Of course! How could it pretend to stop such a big creature with force? Anxiety was making it act simple!

  But what else could it even try? The bison was aloof in the best of circumstances. Now it looked completely out of it. Only one thing came to mind, and a dangerous one.

  Knowing this might be a very bad idea, but wanting to do its very best for the only friend that could be found now, the frog ran ahead - dodging through many creatures, even out here at the edges - and put itself in the bison's path.

  This way, the massive thing couldn't possibly not see the frog. It would be forced to make a choice: cease its doomed charge, or risk trampling a friend. It would stop.

  ... would it?

  The creature was, in fact, very much not stopping. And as its huge frame came closer and closer, only gathering more speed, the frog found its determination eroding.

  But it wouldn't back down! Rather, it closed its eyes, and put its hands forward to make its intent clear. It had promised itself that it would lose not one more of its friends. Even the one it liked least didn't deserve to be left alone to-

  ...

  It picked itself up from the ground somewhere, feeling battered. But the bison's retreating back centered its mind very quickly: the creature had bowled it over, knocking it away like a common enemy.

  Though mostly fine physically, the frog felt damaged inside in a manner it couldn't qualify properly. Disgusted with itself.

  But it had understood: the bison wanted to be on its own. The frog would let it.

  It retreated onto the hilltop, and looked over the valley, feeling lost. Trying to look at anything but the massive figure making its way to the castle, slowly but inexorably.

  And then it saw the others.

  All on the same trail, moving with the throng trying to break through the impregnable wall of doom. Waiting for their turn. Far too close to the lines to get them back. Far too deep to reach in time.

  It saw the cuttlefish first, still near the guards but farthest back - it always was one of the slowest. The others were ahead, just about to make contact, moving together as they had learned in their travels, towards the guards. The frog watched, feeling impotent frustration, when its friends met the line. It saw.

  The grasshopper - its first and most precious friend, their agile vanguard - was the first to die.