"Croak, croak," Damon did, this being the realm of what he could expound after Circe changed him into a Frog.
Seated on a Lillypad, Damon eyed carefully around him, he realizing just how close he was at the bottom of the food chain.
The fantasy dream he had of being a frog, to him felt odd, his skin tightly fitted to his small body. He sat and toyed with what became of his hands and fingers, as he listened to the small world that was his.
Suddenly, Damon had a thought, he remembering his mother, as she would become worried when he never would return home again. He thought about how she would cry from her lost son, she not knowing if he were alive as a frog, or dead. As he sat there waiting for a bug to fly close to where his long tongue could pop out his mouth and eat the insect, he was thinking about his brother and how he would be taking all that Damon had of belongings, things he by being a frog would never have any use.
Time, Damon thought about the duration of his life being a frog and pondered if he had made a good deal with Circe.