Tuesday, 24 September 2013

500 Word Challenge: Frog Hunting

The Challenge: The story ends on a river. The story takes place in the morning. During the story, there is a romantic interlude. The story must have a frog in it.

- - -

    I might be the craziest hedge witch in the world.
    But people do crazy things when they love someone. Especially when that person is dying.
    My plan was simple: Make a cure for the deadly fever that had left Melina bedridden for a week. Potion making was my trade, but there was something I needed:
    Frog legs.
    We lived in the middle of the forest by a river, and had one rule: Never cross the river onto the King’s land. Mostly because the King hated witches and would burn us on the spot. But the King, being slightly crazed himself, had opted to build his castle around a swamp. One that was riddled with frogs.
    Melina would have had a fit if she knew that I had broken our rule to get the last ingredient, but I would not let my wife die.
    A lazy mist coated the earth, giving the forest a beautiful, ghostly appearance, but there was no avoiding the thick swamp stench. I near the trees to avoid patrols. Even this early in the morning, The King sent riders out to make sure nobody trespassed on his land.
    A high-pitched ribbet made me stop and look around. The Golden Horned frog was perched on some moss near the base of a tree, staring at me with its reddish orange eyes. I swung my body and stepped closer, the thick mud trapping me in place. I reached for the fishing net I’d brought with me, then snapped my hand out and scooped up the frog. I pulled the net closer and tied it together so the frog couldn’t escape. I smiled, not believing my luck-   
    “Who goes there?”
    Damn it all.
    I looked over and saw three of the King’s guard on horseback staring at me. One look at my moss covered clothing and leaf-filled hair, and they knew what I was. They raised their swords at the same time I went for my belt. I was unlucky, but not unprepared.
    I threw the potion bag at the feet of their horses. It did two things: created a wall of smoke, and spooked the horses so they threw their riders. I turned and started running for the river. It was difficult to get my feet moving through the muck, but at least I had a head start.
    Finally the ground solidified enough that I could run faster. I heard shouts behind me, but I was almost at the river.
    An arrow punched into the tree on my left, but I leaped into the river and splashed through until I reached the other side, turning back to see the guards glaring at me. They knew the rules. They couldn’t cross onto witch-land unless they wanted to be turned into something unsavory. The frog croaked at my side. I laughed like the lunatic that I was.
    This would be a good story to tell Melina. She’d laugh before she chastised me. But at least she would live.

- - -

Because what hedge witch doesn't use frog legs in their potion? As a side note, I'm still working on Cursed, which has been going pretty well. I have a photoshoot tomorrow (I'm a hobbyist photographer and model), but after that I'm going to spend the rest of the day writing the next portion of Demon's Daughter. I've got the plotlines going smoothly, but my angelology (angelogy?) is a little rusty. So... anyone happen to know anything about the weapons of Heaven? If they simply existed, or if they were crafted? Did the same go for certain gates? I don't know if I'm doing my research wrong or looking with improper reading, but I don't want to risk making something up if I'm going to step on someone's toes. Any help is appreciated!


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