During the dusk hunting, the frogs had capitalized on the increased number of insects around the pond. Under the canopy of a tree fern, Norm and Oliver were discussing their delicious hauls.

“I must have eaten fifty flies,” Oliver, a brown frog with light spots, stated. “I’m stuffed.”

“Rookie. I reckon I caught about a hundred,” boasted Norm.

“No way!” Oliver scoffed in disbelief.

“Way,” Norm suggested with a smirk.

Milly, a gray frog with red eyes, overheard the tall tales being spouted by the two and decided to weigh in. “Fifty? I’m sure you could fit them in, but were you able to catch them in the first place?” she cheekily interjected.

The two turned to see which frog was so presumptuous as to rebut their statements.

“And could the critic do better?” Norm asked.

“I suspect so. It’s a technique thing, you know,” she suggested. “Being quiet, you can sneak up on them. They could hear and see you guys coming a mile away.”

“We never go hungry, though,” Norm said.

“Yeah, you don’t need to get as close with one of these,” Oliver flicked out a long, sticky tongue in her direction, making her flinch. Norm chuckled.

“Whatever, don’t be mad ‘cause you're bad,” Milly challenged.

Norm let out a laugh. “OK then, sharpshooter, how about this? Let’s see, of the three of us, who can catch the most flies in the morning.”

“Sure,” Milly accepted.

“This is getting interesting. What are the rules?” Oliver inquired.

“Total number eaten within a time,” Norm replied.

“Do other insects count?”

Norm rubbed an eye and contemplated. “No. Let’s go strict.”

“Have it your way. How do I know you’ll keep to the rules?” Milly asked.

“Or you,” Oliver bounced back.

“Don’t worry, I know a frog,” Norm assured.

“Have it your way. See you in the morning,” Milly said before bouncing off to enjoy the evening hours amidst the reeds. Norm and Oliver carried on, entertaining each other with increasingly embellished tales of frog life.

By morning, word of the challenge had spread, and a crowd was forming in anticipation of the event. As the sun rose, the ground began to stir with life.

Dex took his contest invigilator role seriously, having already arranged the event’s details. “Contestants?” he called out. All three competitors hopped forward to the croaks of the spectators. “The challenge is to catch the most flies, all flies, but only flies, within the pond and its surroundings, within the time it takes for the shadow of the great oak to retreat to the other side of the pond.” The crowd paused, admiring the fresh expanse of the pond on this crisp morning.

“Each of you has been assigned a companion to tally your captures and report any unfroggy play,” Dex announced. “Any questions?”

“Nope,” Norm replied, the others shook their heads.

“Alright, let’s begin. Frogs ready, set, GO!” Dex declared, signaling the start of the contest.

A wave of cheers and croaks propelled the fly hunters on their way, each with their scorers in tow. Quickly off the mark, Norm managed to snag a low-flying target on his way to the bank, starting his tally. Oliver dashed toward the tree line while Milly sought to nestle among her favorite reeds section.

With tongue flicking erratically, Norm leaped from lily pad to lily pad, swiftly amassing points. He even frog-splashed close to the reeds to stir things up. Milly cast him a frosty glare but continued to sit still patiently. Lurking around the trees, Oliver started to pick off targets from the cover of the shade.

Their hunting styles varied greatly. Norm’s method was hit-or-miss as he plunged into the thick of the action, flicking his tongue at anything that moved. Oliver waited for opportune moments, bagging multiple targets on his long, sticky tongue in one go. Milly, the group sniper, expertly picked off any buzzing intruders that wandered across her sights, rarely missing the mark.

The oak’s shadowy protection retreated across the pond as the minutes passed. Contestants and onlookers alike were wary of prolonged exposure to the sun, but sometimes, that was where the richest pickings were.

Milly’s ambush tactics started to pay off as she methodically ambushed fly after fly that landed on the reeds around her. Meanwhile, Oliver persisted in seeking opportunities to add to his tally in multiples whenever possible.

The competitors seized the chance to relocate to different hunting spots as needed. Follow the flies.

Some of Norm’s friends spotted a dense swarm of flies congregating on some rotting plants and sent out a hefty croaking call to get his attention. Weary but determined, Norm slowly headed there to investigate the frenzy.

As each successful capture was made around the pond, cheers and croaks followed from the onlookers.

As the sun climbed higher in the sky, the shrinking shade indicated that time was running out. The scrutineers remained tight-lipped, but the crowd sensed that the scores would be close.

With one final capture and cheer, the pond was now wholly bathed in sunlight. “That’s it,” Dex shouted, prompting the nimble escorts to break off and return to contest headquarters swiftly. The croaks of the community rang out as they retreated to the cover of the willow to await the outcome.

Norm welcomed Oliver with a playful slap on his back as Milly hopped over beside them.

“Well, that was fun,” Norm said confidently.

“It was,” Milly agreed, and Oliver croaked in endorsement.

Dex was deep in concentration, attentively listening to the scrutineers' reports. After a minute of consolidating their findings, he turned and approached the expectant crowd.

“We have a result,” Dex croaked. “Oliver, 36 flies,” eliciting impressed croaks from the collective. Oliver took a bow and chuckled.

“Milly, 44 flies,” Dex announced to the continued croaks. Milly nodded and smiled.

“Norm, 46.” The crowd erupted for the winner, croaking and jumping high in celebration.

“However…” Dex added, holding up a limb, causing the crowd to hush. “I’m told that three of the captures were dragonflies, and therefore not true flies.”

After an awkward silence, a blue frog yelled from the back, “So?”

“Milly wins,” Dex said plainly.

The crowd erupted again for the new winner.

“Oh, come on, I couldn’t tell,” Norm said but took his medicine with a chuckle. “Not bad, I’ll get you next time,” he turned and said to Milly.

“Might, might not,” she retorted, containing most of her excitement.

Charm smirked and hopped forward to address the froggy swarm. “Congratulations to the winner, and well done to all the contestants. It seems that different approaches can work in different situations. Would you agree?”

Nods and croaks came from the collective as they turned to the winner for a final remark.

“Perhaps, but let’s make this a place where any frog can catch a fly,” Milly added, inciting the loudest round of cheers.

TO BE CONTINUED…