#treefrogs

One of his earliest memories as a small child is of him playing outside in the lush garden of the palace, tottling around with his favorite stuffed toy named Wompy in the bright afternoon sun. His maid is sitting on a nearby bench, reading and enjoying the quiet; and Kuzco is free to wander at his leisure. Flowers are a beautiful thing, some as bright as the sun itself and others with a multitude of colors and insects fluttering and buzzing around them. He’s giggling happily as he follows a bee lazily darting through the air, going from bloom to bloom as it collects its nectar. It’s dancing for him, and he’s all too happy to chase it around the garden– – until his little foot hits nothing but air, and he’s suddenly falling. The cold water comes as a shock to his system, and he’s flailing in an attempt to get away from it. It doesn’t help and when he tries to breathe, the cold water fills his mouth and causes him to choke. Wompy is just as afraid as he is, but somewhere in the struggle he lets go of him, and he floats to the bottom out of sight. He can’t see anything, and he can’t breathe and all too soon he can feel himself getting more and more tired, and his struggles lessen. In one second and the next he’s thrust out of the coldness of the pond, sobbing and choking as he tries to cough up the water he swallowed. He’s laying on the ground beside the garden’s pond, and his maid is hysterical, screaming for someone to come help. Kuzco is panting, with ragged heaving breaths leaving him and his head lists to the side, feeling like it’s full of rocks when he notices a small creature sitting beside his face. It’s green, with big eyes and long legs and they’re staring at each other like they’ve never seen anything so strange in their lives. Kuzco is cross-eyed as he stares at it, and just as he’s finally regaining control of his breath, something comes flying at his face. “AHHHH!” Kuzco screams, rearing back in horror as the creature’s. . . tongue?.. hits him on the cheek and then darts back into its mouth, and the creature’s only answer is a low ‘ribbit’ as he hops closer. He can’t get away fast enough, hands scrabbling at the dirt as he backs away from the creature, and it’s only until he hits the side of the pond once more that he stops and closes his eyes, bracing himself for the final blow. That comes in quick succession when the frog darts his tongue out once more and seems to capture something that was on his cheek, and Kuzco is sobbing again by the time the thing finally hops away, satisfied with its dinner. By then the maid is back, swaddling him in a warm blanket and comforting as she tries to get him to stand. In all the commotion, he forgot to tell them about Wompy and he screams that he isn’t leaving until he’s saved! Eventually, Wompy is rescued by other staffers, and the soaking wet Emperor-to-be and his favorite toy are escorted back into the palace to clean up. That day still haunts him, and ever since? He’s NEVER trusted those slimy, smelly little things.