You swallow your fear and move around the front of the urn. You press your back against its smooth, dusty surface, and you slide around the thing, your toes sticking out dangerously over the edge. You pointedly refrain from looking down; the endless, excited squeaking from below is more than enough to remind you of what’s down there. Leaning forward with your sizeable breasts wouldn’t be a good idea right now…
Then, to your surprise, you’ve made it around the urn and are on your way down the shelf once more, unharmed. You’re immensely relieved to find that you’ve left the mice and their fucking frenzy behind…
Yet again, however, you come across an urn that blocks the entire shelf. You can’t get passed it between it and the wall, but it’s short enough for you to climb over it. However, there’s a decent amount of room around the front of this one…
You glance down… you’re over the glass case with the frogs, now. Most of the center of the case is a pond of sorts, full of tadpoles in various states of development, while the adult frogs are basking in the unusual warmth of their home, sitting on pebbles or old branches Onyx put there. You draw back a bit and lick your lips nervously… don’t frogs have long tongues to snap up their prey? Could they possibly reach you up here?
