Not So Special
"Your voice!" She croaked. "You, just as green, just as rough as the rest of us. You're not so special after all." She threw back her meal and chomped wildly. "You're just another Spadefoot."
"Yet what child?! What do you have that makes you better or different or worthy."
The young toad looked to her feet. The floor beneath them was speckled brown.
"Yet--" the young toad gulped "The story teller asked for me. He asked for my voice to give life to his stories"
The woman toad smiled a crooked, toothless grin. "And you think..." She sneered, "that makes you something."
The young toad thought carefully. "Well..." She chewed the inside of her lip then continued "maybe not yet. But someday..." The child looked into her mother's glassy eyes, "I expect I will be."