The squirrel’s posture wasn’t a little ridiculous – it was *a lot* ridiculous. Anyone else might have burst into laughter at the sight of such a posture, but Crest was newborn. Sure, he had a lot of technical knowledge, even limited language, but cultural norms were beyond him. As far as he saw, the female before him was offering him endless delights to go fight a few head-bangers. Well, it was, in truth, risking his life and, more importantly, his humility but…what sane creature could give up such a profound offer?<br/><br/>Gently patting Laly on the head, Crest murmured, “Stay here. Me go,” and turned to run after the monsters. Without carrying her weight, indeed, with the additional experience of actually running a few hundred meters, Crest practically flew across the ground. His sleek movements gave way to a forward motion that saw him fall to all fours. His arms were a bit too long for this position to seem feasible, but he managed a sort of reaching-leaping-loping gallop that made up for the awkwardness. Unfortunately, the position also made his mammoth cock slap and pounce and otherwise drag into the ground.<br/><br/>If it hurt, Crest didn’t show it – and he certainly did not slow.<br/><br/>He made it to the Toads in record time, bowling into one in a cat-caw flurry of rending teeth and claws. The creature practically exploded in a green globe of snot as Crest tore through it and into the next two, knocking them over. Six inch claws flashing, he whirled – instincts calling out – and slashed the faces of two other frogs, imploding their heads. Crest was…strong. And hey, these were frogs with dicks on their heads. In a matter of minutes, half their number was dead. Only then did the remaining half turn to charge Crest.<br/>