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

Michael Clownfeet continued his clueless traipsing around the holt, ignoring the thumping of Phaedra's willywagging tail, and the tiny giggles, sneezes, and dirt-cloud that all but put a target mark on exactly where Phaedra was hiding.

BOO! Stag jumped like a startled deer, bounding ahead on long and gangly limbs as he gasped and issued a girlish scream, which he would tell you was purely for theatrical dramatics, but his author would tell you he came by that effemminate squeal honestly. Overcoming his startlement, Stag tripped as he turned around, collecting his balance with a grin. "You scared me, mauschen!" he said breathlessly, looming close like Donkey does when he expects a donut but doesn't want to go near the fence: "You didn't get a kiss?" Not a weasel, eh? Let's see her slip out of this one. His mouth was an open o, as if he had just been reminded of his goal and had forgotten because all his brains were in his clowny feet: "oh! well, let me fix that --" and then he swooped in, pucky kissy lips and all, aiming a wet smooch right on the cherub's angelic little head.