*Poke*
Touch my muse. Be descriptive or simple, tender or violent, fond or hateful - anything goes.
Jack’s office had been blissfully quite for months with no sound of a croak or ribbit to taunt him and distract him from his work, it was just silence.
It was not meant to last long however as he felt something touch the back of his neck, causing his hand to instantly try and slap the feeling away in hopes of catching the perpetrator and kill them with one blow.....all it accomplished was him slapping the back of his neck and ruffling his feathers. He was ready to brush it off as a trick of his mind until he heard it--
the call of a frog.
“That little bastard is still alive!?!”









