The next day started tom getting all the melon sized toads off of his sleeping bag. If you've never woken up to melon sized frogs sleeping with you imagine waking up to a dog in your bed or maybe a very slimy stuffed animal.
Unfortunately they didn't seem to be scared of him in the least. Running at them screaming only elicited a series of small hops just large enough to get out of the way of being stepped on. Navigating the small island while still waking up was more difficult when every step you had to not trip on the giant frogs that were probably friendly but definitely outnumbered you.
This indifference by the amphibians continued till a fire was lit and the leftover stew began to reheat from the previous night. Both the frogs and John seemed to wake up and were all drawn in by the smell of the fire and breakfast.
By the time that the stew was hot enough that you probably wouldn't get sick from anything that had crawled into it the night before Tom sat down with his bowl and remembered that he had magic and was immortal and could never return home unless he wanted to become barbecue.
As the idea of having his whole world crumbled and crashing down around him filled his mind one of the frogs headbutted his bowl of stew then a whole pile began rolling around eating both his stew and a lot of the dirt it had fallen upon. The frogs hissed and kicked at each other to get at the food till Tom watched John tip the whole pot over and they all scrambled for the left overs.
Still confused about the whole frog situation and trying to ignore the crisis of what his life had become Tom decided to ask.
"Do you know these frogs?"
"Oh for sure these are some of the best baritones this side of the death fog"
Somehow while all his life was crashing down every single thing that John could utter did more to confuse him and less to help him feel he had a grip or any sort of control on this downward spiral.
"Well get to it we need to get out of here quick if we are going to get these boys to their accompaniment"
This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.
Somehow John said this with a completely straight face and as they struck camp frogs started jumping into the canoe. As they pushed of John taking him to the frogs apparent destination then who knows where next someone started singing. At first Tom though it had to be John but looking back a frogs jowls were vibrating.
Soon all of the near two dozen melon sized frogs were vibrating and an obnoxiously upbeat rhythm began to form. With harmonies and counter melodies the music would have been almost enjoyable if only John hadn't once again broke into song.
This time it was about a princess who got turned into a frog and needed a prince to kiss her but the only prince available was already a salamander and that didn't seem like something anyone of sound mind would do.
As they traveled through trees and past rocks, gliding through the water or the bayou Tom continued to try and get a word in edgewise through the singing. Hours of effort trying to learn about magic yielded a few frustrating facts.
First that life and death magic would mostly take care of themselves and he shouldn't worry as long as he didn't notice any "growths."
Second that fire magic was a powerful thing but if he thought about it in the boat then he'd have to swim behind said boat.
Third that there were apparently infinite verses about how much better it would be to be a frog than a human who had to admit she had kissed a salamander.
As the day continued and the sun reached the height of the sky the water became clear and they approached a freshwater spring. All the melon sized frogs or mlogs as Tom liked to call them quieted down and he heard a higher pitched harmony coming from a beach they were approaching. unlike the deep and dark green of the mlogs that had accompanied them in their boat all of the frogs on the beach were of much lighter complexion.
As the canoe glided up onto the sandy beach the mlogs jumped out one at a time and joined the chorus. An intricate and wonderful melody formed by the slimy choir came together to make music better than any that Tom had heard in any of the bars or festivals in town.
John began to sing in another language that was both resonant and deep with the frogs. Time seemed to fly as John and his watery friends sang. When they finished John just got back into the canoe waved to Tom and they left.
As they pulled out the beauty of the performance ended and Tom asked.
"What in the bottomless bayou was that?"
"Those are some of the finest performing frogs this bayou has to offer and we saved them hours of swimming. Best not to stick around for too long after the music though those frogs go into a mating frenzy and a frog orgy is something you can't unsee."
"I swear your trying to confuse me the little you say always leaves me with more questions." Complained Tom with a huff.
"That's fair I suppose, I'll try to be a bit more forthright but can you believe those frogs they can spin a tune to any tavern song you can think of."