Damon was now in a forest. It was nice ad cool. And most of all, moist. Yes, moisture was his number one priority. To keep his warty skin wet. Dryness felt rather repugnant to him now. He tried to recall why he would have liked dry places before, but the only current thought he had was why in the world he had not spent more time in pools, showers, hammas and other humid places before. Did he not realize before how crazy dry the places he inhabited as a human were? As he hopped away he searched for not only puddles and dew but a much more permanent and larger surface of water. The bank of a river or marsh would do. But better yet would be a pond. No! The absolute best would be marsh, or a bog! Mud ans slime and tall plants and grasses and weeds galore! And plenty of food around too! Happy at the thought of living in one of these, Damon reached a big dead log and slipped under it. Not a marsh, certainly, but t would have to do.
And frankly, it was not that bad. It was cool, wet and dark. Resting calmly there was very soothing to Damon. As he waited, he watched rolly-pollies, wood lice, slugs, spider and ants, as well as other bugs, crawling around. Damon observed them, fascinated. And before he knew it, he salivated and his long tongue gulped a few down. And before his brain got horrified at his meal, it registered how damn good it was. Wood lice were the best, all crunchy, as much as chips. Slugs came on close, melting on his tongue like a yummy chocolate cake. Damon continued resting, content at his basic needs being filled.