Sawtooth Spire i've heard about this frog, it's a very tiny frog, but it's also very special

never imagined him as michael cera til now

she hunkered lower as his pasty legs milled round outside the holt, muffling a giggle behind her paw as he made a production of her sudden disappearance. oh man, she was good. she could hole up here for hours and let him stravaig, keeping his kiss to himself!
of course, this wasn't fairness in concerns to the nature of the game, but life wasn't fair and then you died. or that's what she was told, anyways. 
alas, her tail was thumping against the dirt hard enough to stir a cloud of dirt around her and she started coughing and sneezing involuntarily. ok, enough of this.
phaedra, none-the-wiser that she had been found out by her own scent trail long before now, flushed forth from her hiding place with a wheeze and a "BOO!" 
"am nod an weadsel! a phaedra!" she informed him, secondly. whatever the heck a weasel was, she knew she was not one. it was okay, though, some people needed reminding of these things more often than others. 
"you di'nd kiss meeeeee!" she reminded him in sing-song challenge, plucking gamely about him and slipping into a playbow with her tail switching the air.