Traveling was much more enjoyable this time around.

  Getting closer to the epicenter was just so unquestionably good that it was a given. There should have never been any doubt that the frog would go. The vague itch at the back of its mind was the only thing bothering it, but that didn’t matter much when it felt lighter and better with every step taken in the right direction.

  Having to take detours, fending off predators, jumping off unstable ground that had started collapsing beneath its feet sometimes... None of that could ruin its mood. None of that mattered, when it was getting closer to what really did.

  It didn't know why this was, but why should it worry? All would be clear at the end.

  But the more it walked, the more vexing the itch became. It just grew and grew and grew, pushing at the back of its mind until it was impossible to ignore, and the frog was forced to shake off its singled-minded focus.

  It was horrible.

  The sense of rightness leaving so suddenly was devastating on its own. And then came the confusion.

  What was it doing? Where was it? Was the owl coming? ... no, that had been long ago. Maybe. It was hard to measure time right now, when everything felt a bit unreal.

  But the multiple sounds coming from behind definitely were real, which meant that something was following. Many somethings, judging by the spread. So that was where the itch had been coming from...

  The immediate threat to its life was quick to jolt the frog back into the present. If at all possible, it would try to avoid a confrontation with an unknown amount of enemies, but experience showed the chances of that weren’t great. Constant fighting had really become tiring...

  It found a properly steep hill that would offer a nice overview and an advantage in case – when – things went wrong, and started to climb. It was time to feed anyway, and getting closer to the currents was probably a good idea regardless of the imminent conflict, since trying to grasp anything at ground level was strangely hard, now.

  Quite peculiar thing that, and possibly worrying. Was it brought about by the 'focus' it had been in, a consequence of breaking out of it? Or something else unrelated? It couldn't even remember how long the dearth had been going on for, if it had started before or after falling into the daze... But that was for later.

  It didn't have to go too far up before the source of the commotion came into sight, and turned out very different from expected.

  Rather than a cohesive group of creatures like the coyotes, the one approaching was ragtag. Seeing creatures of different kinds moving together was incredibly rare on its own, and... No, there was more than that. Much more, just behind them.

  Those were just the forerunners of a much larger group. One so spread out that determining where it ended was daunting, and so sparse they'd almost fooled the frog into believing they were all on their own. But there was no mistaking that they were all marching in the same direction, keeping internal fights to a minimum. All coming this way.

  Such a crushing vision of impending doom, the frog couldn't process how it felt.

  Even a few different creatures hanging together was rare. This was unprecedented. What was it about? Surely they couldn't all be here for the frog, could they? They didn't seem to be coming right here, after all. Just in the general direction. Which was most likely the reason why the frog wasn't panicking.

  Perhaps it was better to just run? Find another place to feed, even if it was starting to feel pretty drained? If it really put in the effort, pulling ahead of the forward group should be doable. Then a bit of sneaking and they might all stop following at some point. It could try to understand what was happening and the possible causes once it was safe.

  ... Alas, it had been too slow, and was already too late for a smooth exit.

  A grasshopper, far ahead of the rest of the forward group, was crossing an astonishing amount of ground with each leap, moving much faster than expected. Much faster than the rest of the forward group could run. Much faster than frog could run, too.

  And it was rushing straight here. There would be no avoiding this confrontation.

  So the frog readied for a fight once again. The creature felt strong, but nothing it hadn't fought before: this should be quick, hopefully over before any of the others arrived.

  However, when the grasshopper finally landed close it didn't seem aggressive. In fact, as it finally turned to look at the frog, it seemed surprised, as if it hadn't expected to see a creature there. And absurdly, once it realized that there was another here, it didn't attack: it just looked inquisitively, but not in a way that meant it was preparing to attack. Far from that.

  ... could this possibly, finally, be another non-hostile creature, for once? It felt impossible, but why else would it stand there doing nothing?

  It was a very rushed conclusion, yet the frog couldn't help but feel relief and found itself relaxing. After all it had been through, after its wanderings and the owl, it had almost forgotten that not fighting was a possibility.

  There was no malice in this creature, just like with the beaver. It was perhaps a bit simple, with eyes darting every which way. But it was something that could be interacted with in ways that - while not completely satisfying -- were much better than fighting.

  Now, how to initiate contact? This one didn't have something to do that it could be helped with, after all. Maybe just trying to move closer slowly, without spooking it, would help? Or should the frog lie down, to show that it didn’t want a fight?

  Unfortunately, before it could decide on anything specific, the grasshopper turned and darted up.

  Just like that.

  The inevitable disappointment was crushing. But also very short, as approaching noise reminded the frog that they didn't exactly have all the time in the world. Worse than that, much worse than that... all the creatures around were converging here now. Not only the first forward group. All of them, from down below towards the horizon.

  Their little hill was almost surrounded, and there were just too many. Pretty soon the two of them would be hit by a landslide of death.

  But if the frog hurried, there would be a chance of escape: the incoming creatures were still sparse enough, and hadn’t completed the encirclement.

  It should be possible to break through in the epicenter’s direction – opposite to where the creatures were coming from - and make enough distance. If they weren't after the frog, of course.

  But judging by how surprised the grasshopper had been to find it here and the swiftness with which it had left, that seemed likely. Maybe it wasn't the frog the one they were after...

  Should it make a break for it? Their behavior was impossibly strange, but the horde were most likely here for something other than the frog’s hide, and would let it through.

  Or should it get trapped at the summit with their possible real objective - a creature that might not even be friendly in the end - fighting against an endless swarm of creatures?

  After its travels, and especially fending off all those predators running from the owl and thinking it an easy fallback, the frog had believed it had grown numb to fighting. Perhaps even started to get a small bit of enjoyment out of it. But nothing had prepared it for this experience.

  Claws, hooves and tentacles were rending bodies, limbs were flying every which way and crazed creatures screamed in defiance and pain, in this expanse of writhing flesh. Everywhere they tried to flee, everywhere it followed after or dragged the grasshopper to, something terrible was happening. And there was no getting out.

  At first the frog had been relieved when it had realized that the throng wasn't after it or the grasshopper, except maybe for that small group at the front.

  But they hadn't even finished disposing of those, that the others had kept coming and coming, filling the summit and surroundings with such numbers that it was almost impossible to move without shoving off some other creature.

  Knowing the temperament of most things in this world, it should have been obvious that things would come to this. Why had they hesitated!? They should've fled onward as soon as they'd dispatched the first group!

  No creature wanted to be here. Even predators wanted their space when they weren't actively hunting. They all wanted out.

  But this need only served to make every thing more aggressive, causing small fights, and then those small fights intruded on other small fights, becoming one greater fight, and on, and on.

  Every time it seemed they had found some small haven of calm, it was only a matter of time before it devolved into a fight. So, when they finally found themselves in a smaller group that felt more friendly, the frog stood its ground, hoping the grasshopper would understand.

  And fought.

  There was no reason to the way it was fighting, now. No searching for weak points, no caution, no looking around. Certainly there wasn't time to get stuck biting some creature. It was truly lucky that it had improved with its claws.

  Though it felt that the more it used them, the more unsatisfied they left it: due to its comparatively small size, the frog always ended up at a distance it didn't like. Neither close enough that it could put itself in blind spot, nor far enough that it could make use of its usually greater agility.

  And they didn't feel... refined, for its current ambitions. Though if it was only that, shouldn’t its teeth be the same? Or perhaps it should come up with something else, and phase out from biting too?

  In any case, they were very useful right now, being so noncommittal.

  The fight was truly chaotic. Brutal. With no way to understand what was happening at any moment, or when it would end. If it would ever end.

  Its new companions were the only reference points. It knew it had covered the shrimp and the beetle more than once, and that it had been saved in turn. That the grasshopper could move through the battlefield like no other, often jumping exactly where it was most needed.

  The frog felt loathing at what was happening. But it also felt good, for some reason. It must be linked to these other creatures, somehow.

  Because it felt that, if it was with them, maybe, just maybe, it could keep going.

  It kept clawing and kicking at long dead bodies and even at the empty air for a good while.

  When it realized it was finally, truly over, the frog toppled down in exhaustion, uncaring of how hard it impacted the ground, unable to even summon the strength to catch its fall. It just lay there for a while, feeding instinctively.

  Still on the ground, it finally slapped away this annoyance, together with the few that had piled up during the fight. It was getting much better at ignoring those when it wasn't the time.

  Looking around from down here, it was surprised to see that the other creatures - those not aligned with its little group - weren't all dead as it had expected. Rather, enough had died that the living ones finally had space to exist in peace.

  Most had ended up arranged in ways not dissimilar from the frog: clustered together with a few creatures and keeping far away from other groups. The only exception was the smarter ones, venturing out to grab gems from the bodies laying around. And since the frog was also a smart creature – far smarter than any of them! – it got up to look around too.

  Unfortunately, none of the little things were appealing at all, and the filaments far too weak to transform with. It should have known, really. But maybe... they might be good for its companions?

  They didn’t seem to notice the opportunities around, on their own, for whatever reason. But feeling a small, unexplainable connection after this and wanting to do something good for them, the frog decided to help them along and went around grabbing one gem each from the closest bodies, the least tasteless it could find.

  To the beetle and the shrimp, the frog threw the gems from a safe distance, and watched. Now that the melee was over, they might not be as easygoing as before. Better to let them have their space and see how things went later.

  Fortunately they seemed to accept the gems, and started feeding eagerly. It felt good to do something for others and having it be kind of recognized.

  To the grasshopper, the frog brought the gem directly: there was a stronger connection with this one, having been the first it had met. Maybe the grasshopper could become the new beaver?

  The creature took the gem, but looking away. The frog thought this might have further meaning - perhaps a refusal of sorts? - but then turned to look in the same direction and was aghast. Somehow, impossibly...

  there was movement in the distance.

  A lot of movement.

  How could this be? After such a slaughter... They must have killed almost everything in the area at this point, surely!

  But there was no denying the truth: a new influx of creatures was coming. Not the same measure as before, maybe, but if it kept growing like this...

  The frog climbed the tallest rock around to take a look, which luckily was enough to give a better perspective. What it saw left it completely stunned, once again.

  Everything in sight, every creature till the horizon and perhaps beyond, was moving in one, same direction.

  It wasn't just this one throng coming towards them, however large: it looked as if the entire world, from critters to monstrous titans, had decided to get up and come over. How were they supposed to handle so many? They'd barely survived this one fight!

  ...But if they were truly headed for this hill, wouldn't they already be here? They should be swarming much, much worse than even the disaster that had just transpired.

  Looking down at the foot of the hill, there were already so many creatures approaching the base... and then walking around it. A good chunk did start to climb up, some willingly, some scared off by others. But far from all of them.

  It took a bizarre amount of time for the frog realize it should also look the other way.

  The majority of creatures kept going in that same direction, beyond the hill. Forming a similarly crawling landscape, perhaps even more crowded.

  And where exactly they were headed to was quite obvious.

  How could it have missed that? Of course every creature in the world had felt the great humming! How had it not realized that the others would feel the same craving it had?

  A brief spike of horror seized it at the thought that the owl might be coming too... but luckily, the creature was nowhere in sight, and there was quite a good view from here.

  Still, it would be better to get a move. As long as that thing didn’t show up, the frog felt confident in handling itself on the way.

  Though it wouldn’t hurt if its new companions came with.

  They should, after all they'd gone through...

  Right?