There wasn’t much happening at the bottom of the garden. It was a normal day with normal things happening.

The insects were doing what they do best, being insects and the fairies, long-time residents were doing what they did best, staying out of sight and being as big a nuisance as they could to every creature around them.

The fairies thought they had it pretty good. The garden creatures, for the most part, tolerated the fairies but there was always the threat that if the fairies pushed them too far, something terrible might happen.

The fairies were well aware of this as legend had it the fairy known as Gumblebum had his wings torn off by a moth he was irritating. Being a Bogong Moth, he was considerably larger than your run of the mill moth and so when threated as he felt he was by Gumblebum he took action.

Needless to say, Grumblebum was never the same again.

Today though, being middle of the week, it was all very hum drum. Rufus Grizzleguts had just landed on a pond leaf and was sunning himself as he complained about the heat, the reflection and the annoying frogs in the pond.

Just as he was settling into a good healthy grizzle, a long and sticky tongue wrapped itself around his middle. Within seconds he was being dragged yelling and screaming towards a large blue tongue in need of a good feed and Rufus looked just the morsel he desired.

The goanna had some very razor-sharp teeth, and Rufus didn’t like his chances and protested loudly.

The blue tongue unaccustomed to protests of any kind stopped his sucking in of his dinner and looked with an air of curiosity at the squirming Rufus.

“You can’t do this,” stated Rufus, “everyone knows we fairies are not a tasty treat as you might surmise. So, let me go if you know what is good for you.”

The blue tongue stopped and let the sensors on his tongue decide if Rufus was going to be all the grief he was suggesting he might be. There was a taste that left the blue tongue wanting to dip his mouth into the lava pools on the other side of the garden, and the taste only intensified the longer he held onto Rufus.

The next thing Rufus knew was he was being propelled into the pond. He came up spluttering for if there was one thing Rufus disliked it was the pond. “Do you know what the frogs do in here?” he screamed at the disappearing blue tongue.

Clambering out, he grabbed a leaf and dried himself off. Now he had plenty to grizzle about, and he made sure every creature at the bottom of the garden heard his every complaint.

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2019/11/07/tale-weaver-248-at-the-bottom-of-the-garden-7th-november/