A cave toad tracker

First across the bridge was a cave toad unlike the one they had just dispatched. While it's belly was a pale bone color, the patterns on it's back and face were a stark black and bright yellow. It ran with purpose, keeping low to the ground and it's movements silent. In its great webbed hands it carried a long wooden spear. The tip seemed to be volcanic glass, and some oozing venom decorated the edges. Around it's waist, it wore a belt with many pouches. They looked to be scavenged from human gear, but here and there were sheaves of moss, leaves, and a brace of darts. It wore a sling with a quiver of javelins. Some kind of bio- luminescent paint decorated its face and chest. Of course, dangling past its froggy knees was a thick swinging cave toad cock, white underneath and mottled black and yellow on top. As soon as it crossed the bridge, it knelt and placed one hand's fingertips to the floor. One eye looked down, the other scanned the darkness.

Behind the tracker came a bumbling handful of ordinary cave toads. They were unarmed, talkative, and horny, with great big drooling cocks bouncing out before them. They nearly crashed into each other as the tracker stopped to investigate. They cut out their chirps and croaks and waited for the tracker to check it out. None of them carried any weapons, unless one counted the cum cannons that had his poor Cecilia.

The cave toad with the poison spear raised his head and great nostrils sucked in the air. Fortunately, the current was pulling the damp air out of the cave, away from the cool dark depths to the hot sunny swamp above. This placed the heroines downwind of the cave toad tracker.