Sometimes in life you have to take a chance to over come your past. She understood the rough frog's hesitations, but she had been there. She did not take a risk when her life's path had placed it in front of her and because of it she suffered. In some cases a person has to do and go with what they feel and know is right even if it doesn't make any sense. The Queen wandered for some time along the trial with the rough smiling frog. She grew weary of his so pace and lond periods of cryptic silence. Without saying farewell the Queen continued on at her own pace. One day she hoped the wise little frog would find his pace and the match to his stone.
The frogs continued to follow the Queen along her path. She weary of their noise. Some nipped at her, others tugged at her skirts. Finally the cacophoney of noise and annoyance grew so loud she snatched up her stone and burried it deep in her bodice next to her heart. She picked up her skirt and ran as fast as she could away from her trail and the frogs that covered it. She ran until her lungs felt like fire, until her legs could no longer hold her up.
She collapsed in a clearing with soft grass surrounded by aspen trees. She landed face down and began to cry. The noise had stopped. There were no frogs around. The scent of rich earth and live grass filled her nostrils. She dug her fingers into the soft soil and sobbed. Every mistake she had ever made replayed in her head. She could her the woods whisper her failures, taunt her, throw slurs at her. She screamed into the ground and continued to cry until she exhausted herself and fell asleep.
The sleep she drifted into was not settling and restful. She rolled on to her back and soon she felt something on her breast. She opened her eyes to see the wise rough frog smiling at her, his front leg firmly pressed on the stone hidden in her bodice. It dug into her flesh. She suppressed the urge to wince. She felt a nip at her left hand. She looked down to see the leggy frog biting her. She was hurting but couldn't move to do anything about it. She heard rustling above her head. She looked up and there was the dancing frog twirling around her head. A gleam caught the corner of her eye. On a stone to the right sat the little diamond frog looking sombre, watching the madness. Around her feet the three camoflauge frogs hopped and tugged at her skirts. The forest continued to taunt her.
The frog on her breast pressed the stone deeper into her flesh. The noise of the forest and the frogs became deafening. She finally released from the immovable spell and sat up violently. She looked around, all the frogs were gone and the forest was silent. Before her sat a knight with all his armour. Emblazoned on his chest was an Eagle. He was not an overly handsome knight, but he had a friendly face. At once the Queen felt safe. She felt like she had known the knight for almost all her life. He looked at her in a knowing and brotherly way. On a rock beside him sat a beautifully crafted wooden box. He motioned for her to come forward. She cautiously arose and moved toward him without removing her eyes from the box.
The knight reached into her bodice and removed the stone she had hidden there. It pained her and she flinched. She had hoped the injury had been an illusion like the frogs, but when she looked down she could see dark rich blood and the skin beginning to bruise. The knight placed the stone in the key hole of the box. Her stone was only half the key. The could hear the beautiful song that played within the box, "who will love me for me..." She tried to peek in but she could see nothing. The Queen touched the box and the word "Jericho" appeared. She looked quizzically at the knight. He placed his hand on her heart. "Only your other half can unlock it." He handed her back her stone with its string and he looked her straight in the eye, "You have a task to complete, focus only on that." He hugged her close and lead her back to her trail. This time there were no frogs on her trail. The Queen looked at the knight. He hugged her again and sent her on her way.
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