Myria Quickhands

Myria didn't like the look of this. For all their foolishness and self- destructive lust, these toads looked like they had exceptional senses, well attuned to the dark, dank caves. This hunter didn't look like some drooling perverted monster, either. He looked capable, experienced- no, this hiding spot wasn't good enough. It wouldn't be long before the monster picked up their trail.

"It's no good," she whispered. "We have to move, now! Deeper, go!" she urged. Her companions agreed without a word, and followed her deeper into the gallery of slippery wet stalactites. Dew, with her elven dark vision, led the way. Myria noticed Cecelia, whom she expected to argue for a pitched battle, said nothing. Instead, the cum- splattered paladin was breathing heavily.

The floor sloped up and the ceiling sloped down as they moved carefully. The stalactites were thicker, reaching up toward the stalagmites and even meeting them in several places to form wet, slippery pillars of rock. There's just gotta be a way through! She hoped.

Behind them, raised toad voices urged her on. They had probably discovered the footprints, or the drops of toad blood, or all the cum... I certainly would have, she thought.

The rock became impenetrable. There was to be no way though. The only hope was a narrow chasm, slick with flowing groundwater and some kind of clinging, glowing worms. It was big enough for them, only just barely for Cecilia in her armor. The thin pit vanished into darkness above and below. Climbing up was out of the question; the walls were trickling with water. It would be more slippery than Cecelia's face. But down- could be anything.

Behind them, the tracker was croaking orders to the other cave toads. The crew was rushing in their direction on powerful froggy legs, bouncing monster cocks drooling precum before them. Now or never.