He was vastly out of his league. The word [i]vast[/i] lingered in his mind, as it first had when he’d blindly rushed the goliath toad and realized it was both farther away and far, far larger than he’d expected. 

At this point he ought to stop expecting things. It never seemed to work out for him.

Matteo felt sweat break out on his forehead as he saw the beast’s maw open and realized in a heartbeat that he was first on the menu. Unconcerned as it was with his antics, that tongue was nothing to dismiss. Continuing to whirl on the spot, Matteo took off again, pumping his arms and legs desperately as he threw himself into a second sprint. His muscles, tired from walking, burned at the sudden burst of activity-- but just two weeks ago, he’d been training in the guild to handle this type of scenario. High pressure. High intensity. If he couldn’t run, he would die, and Matteo was already in too deep to consider becoming toad bait so soon out of the hospital.

In his peripheral vision, the Thief could see the tongue coming. It stretched impossibly long and the curly-haired youth felt his heart drop as the thought [i]I don’t know how far its range is[/i] flashed across his mind. How long was a normal frog’s tongue? At least as long as its body? [i]I might not be able to outrun it in time--[/i]

Forgetting whatever his piece was supposed to be in this bizarre toad-killing game in favor of actually living through it, Matteo hurled himself to the side and down onto the ground face-first without warning. Bent stalks of grass poked at his face as he flattened himself, holding still and hoping the tall grasses would disguise him. A creature that big probably couldn’t change direction very quickly, and if he could just duck the tongue, it was still possible it might overlook him...