Elaine stared at the small frog in front of her. It was rather large, more like a toad the size of her fist, with dark green and brown markings to its skin. She looked around and saw her house standing to one side, and she could hear the familiar babble of the river. The air was hot, and the sun strong, shining down on top of her head, beating at her. The frog only stared back at her, its eyes like two tiny black pebbles in its face.
It croaked, and Elaine jumped back, for it was far louder than anything a normal frog might emit. She took a step back, feeling the soft, springy grass beneath her bare feet. Everything seemed a little too sharp: the sun was just a little too hot, the light reflecting off the river too bright, and each blade of grass and each leaf stood in stark relief to everything else around it.