A frog, its slimy green skin glistening, appeared from beneath a leaf. Its wide eyes locked onto the two tiny ants, and its long, sticky tongue lashed out.
Frra yanked Irra to the side just in time. They dodged and weaved, the frog’s tongue slapping the ground behind them like a whip.
'Run, Irra!' Frra shouted.
Irra, however, saw an opportunity. Near the edge of the Mushroom Grove was a patch of fire ants, known for their fiery tempers and stinging bites.
'This way!' she called, leading Frra toward the fire ants.
The frog followed, unaware of the danger.
As soon as its tongue flicked near the fire ants, chaos erupted.
The fire ants swarmed the frog, who croaked in dismay and hopped away, leaving Irra and Frra unharmed.
By the time they reached the Hilltop Colony, the stars were twinkling in the night sky.
Exhausted but victorious, Irra and Frra collapsed at the entrance, their fellow ants rushing to greet them.
'Where have you been?' the elder ants scolded, but their voices were filled with relief. Irra and Frra exchanged a glance and smiled.
'Just… exploring,' Frra said with a chuckle.
That night, as they rested in their cozy chambers, Irra whispered, 'You know, Frra, we make a pretty good team.'
'We do,' he agreed, his antennae brushing hers affectionately. 'But next time, let’s explore *closer* to home.'
And with that, the two little adventurers drifted off to sleep, dreaming of future escapades—though hopefully less dangerous ones.
Hooray! Here comes the holidays.
Though the holiday spirit buzzed through every corner of the anthill, Irra and Frra were up bright and early, just like the diligent adult ants.
But unlike the adults, burdened by their endless work gathering food and maintaining tunnels, Irra and Frra had their own kind of busy day planned.
Today was no ordinary holiday. Today, they were embarking on a grand and *forbidden* adventure.
'Pass me the pine needle,' Irra whispered to her brother, holding up her tiny forelegs like a swordsman preparing for a duel.
Frra grunted, lifting a long, sharp pine needle on his back. 'Here. Now let me get mine! We need to look like warriors when we reach the pond.'
The pond. For as long as they could remember, the pond had been the forbidden jewel of their childhood. Stories about its shimmering surface and the unpredictable, treacherous creatures lurking nearby were told almost like bedtime tales to warn the young ants.
The adult ants would shiver with dread even while telling the stories—black water beetles, dragonflies with glinting wings, a strange slippery thing called 'frogs,' and, most terrifying of all, the pond’s vast expanse, a death trap for anything unlucky enough to fall into it.
But Irra and Frra didn’t have time for fear. They were small ants, but their dreams were colossal.
After completing their apartment chores faster than ever—tidying up stray crumbs, fluffing tiny moss beds, and rearranging pebbles into neat borders around their home—they dashed out of the anthill.
'Are you sure we won't get caught?' Frra asked, scurrying behind Irra. His antennae twitched nervously.
'Relax,' said Irra, her voice tinged with excitement. 'We’ll be back before anyone notices. We just need to handle the predators and…'
She paused dramatically, squinting her compound eyes as she spotted something. “…and sail *the boat*!”
