Lost Creek Hollow The Missing Toad

I’m gonna start posting little RO short stories for Marten. Marten makes me happy so while he was on PPC i wrote a handful of cute lil stories to help me keep up with his personality etc. I’ll probably keep doing this. <3 it’s a little outdated tho lmao.. @ the dumb szn change.

The Missing Toad

Rupert?? called out a voice— deeper now than it was just weeks ago. No, no, it was not the voice of a man, but it was the voice of Marten, who stood proudly now in the lanky body of a teenager. 

His dark nose twitched, pale ears pressed forwards against his skull, mis-matched eyes filled with worry— and a hint of adventure! A strange combination, maybe, but such a glint was common in young Marten’s eyes. Rupert, you see, was an expert at hide and seek. Not so much at seeking, Marten had discovered, but Rupert was quite good at the hiding aspect of the game. And they played often.

Today, Rupert was doing exceptionally well at hiding. Marten had searched all over the little clearing, only to find that Rupert had apparently disappeared out of thin air! Even after Marten resorted to using that nose of his to help him out, he found that the toad was completely undiscoverable. He was in awe! Such a simple creature was so clever.

And so, naturally, Marten worries. What if someone found the toad before he did? or if he slipped and fell and hurt himself? Rupert would not know to call for help— he was not as loud as Marten could be. Even his loudest croaks were not as loud as Marten’s quietest growls. But at the same time! Rupert has proven, time and time again, to be a worthy opponent of hide and seek! Hah! so the boy would continue his search for the fat toad. 

He trekked through the autumn leaves, which crunched and squished beneath his pale toes, nose to the earth as he searched for his friend. Through the hollow he went, passing trees and bushes and stones— nothing out of the ordinary. Marten quite liked the place, it had so many opportunities for adventure! And he’d already had so many with Rupert the toad. He liked when Indra played along with him too, even though he sometimes wondered if she didn’t want to. She sometimes got all stiff in the face when he said kind things to her... Marten never understood, he never thought anything but kind things about his mama. He would find her after he found Rupert, maybe she’d enjoy this story. 

Past the meeting stones he went, tail wiggling at his hocks. The sun shone through the naked branches, most of the leaves already underfoot. They cast shadows down upon the ground, shifting as a gentle breeze blew by. Distracted, Marten danced around with them, nipping at the changing shadows and tip-tapping his feet around. What a beautiful day! Marten only remembered his task as another shift in the shadows caused him to trip over his own paws and smash his nose into the dirt. Whoops. With a quick, airy sneezy, Marten shook himself out and continued his toad-hunt, tongue now lolling from his mouth. He walked this way for a short while before his nose was back to the ground, sniffing.

Ah! A trail! Marten pricked up, neck stretching as he sniffed about, the scent of toad pee fresh in this area. Rupert, you scoundrel! You weren’t supposed to hide this far!... Though this certainly made for a good time. 

West— Marten turned direction suddenly to follow after the new trail. He met with a bend of the creek, opting to follow it as Rupert would have done. On he went, after the mischievous toad quite happily. The creek bubbled beside him, splashing over stones and fallen underbrush. Marten liked the creek, it was so nice to fall asleep next to— especially curled up next to mama and whoever else was in the den that night. Marten liked it when they were all one big family, but sometimes they were in different places. That was okay, though, they always came back together. Marten was just happy to see them all when he could— especially mama. She always looked happy when he came to visit, especially when he brought her a snack. He always tried to catch his own snacks, but sometimes he couldn’t... he wasn’t sure if Indra could tell when he pulled from the cache or not, though. 

Pale paws padded against wet stone— plap— plap— plap— paired with the scrape of claws as he slipped once or twice. Marten was not the most graceful creature, but he made up for it in character, surely. He liked the stone. It was cool to nap on in the sun, and he’d learned that they were the best surface to leave herbs out to dry. Granted, he wasn’t sure what you’d do with the herbs once they were dry but... well, it must’ve been important. He’d ask Hyacinth or Tarot at a later date. He liked that they were so helpful. He climbed over the stones, slipping one final time as he came back to the soft earth. Onto his rump he slid, standing up, shaking off, and continuing on his journey. 

But it would come to an end soon. Perched up on a stone was a fat little toad, who croaked loudly when Marten spotted him. The youth yipped excitedly when he found his friend. You can’t be out in the open! You let me win! he accused in a loud bark, but began to bound towards the sneaky toad. He came to an abrupt halt to poke affectionally at Rupert with his cold nose. Rupert croaked. That was a good game— you gotta stop cheating though, we said only the clearing was on limits, Marten reminded him with a wagging tail. Rupert croaked. Marten parted his jaws for the toad to hop in, and then looked around, nose twitching. Let’s go find mama, he said finally, and then began off towards the den.

Rupert croaked.