The tiny splotch of red had only made it two feet. She gently scooped him up, making a cage of her hands, careful not to squish its injured leg.
Orelia gently set the frog inside the jar as Vade approached.
“What in the hells do you think you’re doing?” he asked.
She screwed on the lid as the frog burrowed in the moss. “He has a hurt leg, so I’m putting him in here.”
Vade raked a hand through his hair, disrupting the loose knot. “Oh, fuck.”
“What?”
“That frog is poisonous. Don’t touch anything.” He rifled through his pack, pulling out cookware, the bag of dried venison, his whetstone, and other items.
Orelia chuckled. For once, she knew something he didn’t.
“Why are you laughing? You just touched a poisonous frog!” Vade’s brows were up to his forehead.
She was thoroughly enjoying the sight of him scrambling as he pulled out a leather pouch. “I have a vial of something in my medicine bag that should get your hands clean.” He dumped out thecontents—multiple vials of sana, bandages, needles and thread, a few vials of clear liquid of some sort, and more bandages.
“Vade.”
“It’s in here somewhere . . .”
“Vade.”
His eyes snapped to hers. “What?”
“This frog isn’t poisonous. It doesn’t have the black dots on its back.” She held up the jar. “See.”
He peered into the glass, and the frog poked its head out of the moss like it was trying to prove her point.
He frowned. “That’s a strabbe. It has the same coloring on its legs and body.”
“This is a berr frog. Easily confused with the strabbe, but the ones that don’t have the black spots are okay to touch. See? I’m all right.” She turned her hands over, showing him both sides.
Vade grunted, which she’d come to learn either meantfineorfuck offin his grumpy fae language. “Why are you putting it in a jar?” he asked as he put the medicines back in the pouch.
“Bute.”
“What?”
“I’ve decided to name him Bute. So, the better question is, ‘Why are you putting Bute in a jar?’” She grinned. Proud of herself for outsmarting him.
Vade looked at her like she was insane. “What in the hells kind of name is Bute? And why are you even bothering to name it?”
“It’s a cute name. And his leg is hurt, so I’m going to keep him until he heals.” Unfortunately, only druids could heal animals, the only downside to her personal healing abilities.
Vade barked a laugh. “You’re not serious.”
“He’s injured and he’ll get eaten if I don’t help him, so I’m bringing him with us.”
He sighed while fixing the mess he’d made of his hair in his panic. “Of course you are.”
When everything was back in his pack, Vade slung it over his shoulder and trekked into the woods. She pulled out her chipped and faded dragon daydial and looked to where the line of shadow fell. Two marks ’til.
She donned her pack and trailed after Vade, carrying the jar as steadily as she could. At least now she had a cute frog for company and not just the fae currently grumbling complaints to himself.
“Don’t worry, little guy,” Orelia said, smiling.
