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The cold wisps of air that whistled through the trees kicked up the mist of the early morning and white tendrils danced around the trees to the haunting tune of the wind. This deep in the forest he could move without threat of being seen; he needed no torch to light his way despite the darkness of the hour.

He found the clearing that was so familiar to him, lit a cigarette and laid the soft black case that held his Saxophone against a tree. There was still much to do before the night was through.

He took time to finish his cigarette, savouring the bitter taste of the tobacco and the flare of orange light with every inhale. Once done he debated another but ground the remnants of the ash into the dirt and pushed forward. It would be a short journey from here, and it would yet be a long night.

The sounds of the forest died out as he progressed - the chatter of bugs and insects silenced by an unseen force. The time was coming. He reached into his bag and produced a small brown parcel. Pursing his lips together he let out a long loud whistle that echoed around the area.

Slowly, two red orbs appeared above him and a sigh filled the void, a prolonged exertion of breath came forced and disturbed as the rest of the figure took hold. Before him a great toad materialised.

The creature looked down at the man and his long loping tongue lazily moistened its own eyes and wetted its lips. The man pulled from the brown parcel a bloodied piece of meat and tossed the bag aside; it flew off in the wind. At the site of the meat the toad pattered its feet and jostled about excitedly. Its mouth quivered open expectantly as the man readied to toss the cutlet into the air. Once he did it arched messily towards the sky and the toad snatched it greedily.

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“You treat me well!” the toad bellowed in a deep, creaky voice after it finished chewing its prize.

“All part of the deal” the man said, he strode casually closer, “We were very popular tonight.”

The toad barked a laugh, “Of course you were! People always loved my face. I told you there would be no trouble gaining popularity.”

The man looked up angrily at the toad, the body of the great woodland spirit had deteriorated vastly since he had last seen it. Before it had been broad and bloated, the limbs strong and skin sickly, and wet. He used to be glorious.

“Time to switch again,” the man said, eyeing up the toad cautiously.

“Has it been another month already?” the toad asked. It was pensive as it spoke and shuffled away slightly, “I don’t feel like it’s been long enough yet!” the toads voice started to panic, “I need longer, I need more time, another month!”

The man spat into the ground. It had been four years. Four years since the body he now inhabited brought the young arrogant man before him with a bargain. A chance for the great Kroakus, woodland spirit of old, to experience civilisation and fame, the likes of when he once was worshipped long ago. Once a month they were meant to switch places, but he had proven a difficult soul. Kroakus could not perform his magic unless both parties were willing.

“One more month, I promise!” the toad spoke again “Just one more month, then we can switch again.”

Unable to do anything, the man that Kroakus now lived in hung his head low, “Fine, another month,” he said, and turned his back. He couldn’t let it be known that his powers were faltering.

“Oh, and Kroakus!” the human that had traded places with him and now resided in the body of the great toad called out, “next time, bring me something a little nicer to eat. Maybe someone younger...” the voice trailed off with a chuckle and, as the man looked back, the toad was gone again, only the darkness of the woods and the mist remained.

He walked back through the woods, the familiar land that was his ancient homeland. Back to the clearing where he laid the saxophone down. The chatter of the bugs and frogs had restarted, he heard them clearly as they reached a crescendo of angry calls and croaks. They asked their old master when he would return, when order would be restored.

The man flung the bag onto his shoulder, “Worry not, my children, I will get my body back,” he looked back out the forest, towards the city he must now return, “Soon enough. Soon.”