They Do Shut their Eyes

The tree frogs are quite fit now.

They soon catch up with Arthur.

We're coming with you, says Quiet-Tartus.

As long as you use your own steam, says Arthur.

We can show you the way, says Shorty-Tartus.

I know the way, says Arthur. I just follow the trail to the creek.

The rain is pelting down.

The trail is slushy. 

The paper barks are soggy.

The hairy achronichia are dank and dripping.

The Bunya pines are weighed down and wet.

Want a Tiny Teddy? asks Arthur.

What's a Tiny Teddy? asks Quiet-Tartus.

A tiny biscuit shaped like a teddy, says Arthur.

No thanks, says Quiet-Tartus. If it was shaped like an insect or a spider or a cricket or a lizard or a cockroach we might be interested.

Or another frog, says Shorty-Tartus.

Yes, says Quiet-Tartus. Or another frog.

They make Tiny Freddos, says Arthur. But they'd still taste the same.

That's an interesting concept, says Quiet-Tartus.

But obvious, says Arthur. Why are you coming?

We want to see the medal, says Quiet-Tartus. And forget about our nightmares.

The water on the path is ankle deep now. The frogs need to hop high.

Hop splosh hop splosh, it's tiring.

I didn't know frogs had nightmares, says Arthur.

Clinging to snakes, says Shorty-Tartus. How would you like it?

Wouldn't mind, says Arthur. Where are the snakes?

In a rain tank, says Shorty-Tartus. With us and two mice.

It's a dream, right? says Arthur.

A nightmare, says Shorty-Tartus.

Do frogs sleep? asks Arthur.

We think so, says Quiet-Tartus. We were going to ask Gaius.

He'd know, says Arthur. But I can find out.

He takes his phone out of his pocket, and types in the question.

No one knows, says Arthur. Not enough research. But they do shut their eyes.

We know that, says Quiet-Tartus. And we worry.

That's good enough, says Arthur.

He can see what looks like a red and white spotted umbrella up ahead.

But it's upside down, floating.

He speeds up. 

Not everyone leads a charmed life.