Northstar Vale Come on, guys! Early worm gets the. . .worm.

The frog was slipping from her grasp. That is, if she ever really had a grasp in the first place (spoiler alert: she didn't). So it was to her frustration that the squat creature eventually vanished from view, though she kept on doggedly— bringing her headlong into a pale, plush chest.

Lilitu shriek-gasped in surprise, stumbling backwards and falling into a puddle. Sputtering, she tried to regain some sort of dignity as she rose to her paws once more, gingerly shaking herself out. But she was well and truly soaked, she was freezing, and. . .

Oh, poop! It was one of those white wolves again. Why always them?! Why were there so many?

S-sowwy, she burst out hastily, remembering her manners. She turned still-somewhat-blue eyes toward the stranger, squinting. The woman looked an awful lot like the others. A little different, maybe, but how the heck was she supposed to tell them apart? This could be the mean woman, and if so, Lilitu was in trouble.