Frogspawn Swamp a lonely cry

Her tail wagged furiously in response, although she could not bring herself to tell him exactly how long it had been - she knew that if she only opened her mouth, all her desperation and fear and saddness would come pouring out of her, and that was not the way to make friends.

Doe's stomach was growling audibly, though she couldn't bring herself to regret giving her meal away. The day had been kinder to her than it seemed to have been to the male, and she'd eaten several dry, crunchy crickets on the way to the swamp. They hadn't been filling at all, and she'd expended about as much energy catching them as she had gained from them, but it was something to have in her belly. Doe wondered how the male had been fairing, and whether he'd survive on his own for very much longer - blindess was death, in times like these.

But again, she did not speak.