“We did it!” Frra gasped, clinging to the edge of the leaf. His whole body trembled with the thrill and sheer terror of what had just happened. “Irra, we actually did it!”
Irra, still gripping her makeshift weapon, gave him a shaky smile. “I told you we’re fearless.”
But their relief was short-lived. A ripple appeared in the water, growing in size and heading straight for them. Something was coming—a fish.
“Row! Row!” Irra yelled, tossing her stick into the water like an oar. Frra did the same, and together they paddled furiously toward the shore.
The ripple grew larger, the fish’s sleek body beginning to emerge from beneath the surface. Its enormous mouth opened wide, ready to snap shut on the tiny, floating ants.
With one final burst of effort, Irra and Frra propelled their boat forward until it scraped against the muddy bank.
They leapt to safety just as the fish lunged, its jaws closing around nothing but the dried leaf. The boat disappeared into its mouth with a splash.
Irra and Frra lay panting on the shore, barely believing their narrow escape.
By the time they returned to the anthill, muddy, scratched, and utterly exhausted, the sun was beginning to dip below the horizon. Irra looked at her brother, their adventure still fresh in their minds.
“That,” said Frra, 'was the scariest and greatest thing we’ve ever done.”
Irra grinned, her antennae twitching with pride. 'I guess the adults were right. The pond *is* dangerous. But… we’re Ant Warriors now. Nothing can stop us.”
And with that, they trudged back into the safety of their busy, bustling anthill, already dreaming of their next adventure.
The soft dirt beneath Irra and Frra’s tiny, quick feet kicked up small puffs of dust as they scurried through the tall grass. The blades swayed gently in the afternoon breeze, towering above them like an emerald forest. Though the sun warmed their tiny bodies, excitement made their small hearts beat even faster than usual.
'Do you think the monsters are really as big as the moths say?' Irra asked, her antennae twitching nervously as she dodged around a fallen pine needle.
'Maybe,' Frra replied, his tone carrying an air of bravery. 'But what if the moths are just telling stories to scare us? Maybe there's no ribbon at all. Maybe the hill isn't even that tall.'
Irra gave him a skeptical look. 'Why would the moths lie? They're always up high, so they can see things we can't.'
'True,' Frra admitted. 'But maybe they're exaggerating—like the time Uncle Frrun said he fought off a whole line of soldier ants by himself.'
Irra giggled, recalling how their uncle loved to boast. But as the anthill disappeared further behind them, her excitement mingled with a tinge of unease. 'We have to be careful,' she whispered, her voice suddenly softer. 'If the monsters are real…'
'We'll be fine,' Frra interrupted, puffing out his chest. 'I’m fast, and you’re smart. Together, we can do anything.'
The two dashed through the dense undergrowth, weaving around ferns and mushrooms that towered like great domes. They passed clumps of moss that felt like the soft cushions of a throne and crossed a shallow trickle of water, using a bent leaf as a bridge.
Finally, the world seemed to open up just a little—less trees, less grass. The ground began to feel harder under their feet, smoother in a strange way. The air smelled different too: a mix of something sharp and oily.
