(The following is a set of parables, intended to encapsulate the teachings of
the Wyrden Idols of the Nekotai.)

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[Spider]
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Once, there was a frog who resented a spider. Leaping and lashing his tongue at
all the delicious flies tired him, and he looked with jealousy on the spider,
who merely sat in her web and waited for the food to come to her. And so, in
spite, he leapt through her webs, his heavy body breaking through easily, and
though the spider rebuilt her webs time and time again, so would the frog break
them. And so there was a spider who resented a frog.

"Curse you, frog!" the spider cried. "For your spite, I will build a web to hold
you." And she spun a web twice as thick, but the frog laughed and jumped through
it. Again she spun a thicker web, but still the frog jumped through it. And
every time, the frog laughed.

One day, the spider spun her thickest web yet, too thick to see through. And the
frog laughed and jumped through once more, but this time his laughter was cut
short. For the spider had woven her web across the mouth of a glass jar, and the
frog had become stuck inside, his legs waving uselessly out of the opening.

And so, as the frog slowly baked to death in the sun, spider quietly left to
rebuild her webs, having the flies all to herself.

------
[Wasp]
------
Once, there was a great bullfrog who fancied himself the mightiest warrior in
the pond. Foes before him would fall prey to his long tongue. Foes behind him
would fall to a kick of his mighty legs. And those who flew overhead would be
devoured in an instant with a quick leap and a snap of his jaws. He grew proud,
and boasted of his prowess. And indeed, many fell to his power.

One day, a tiny wasp happened by while the bullfrog was boasting. Deciding the
bullfrog needed humbling, the wasp challenged the bullfrog to a duel, and so the
two squared off face to face.

With the wasp in front of him, the bullfrog shot out his great sticky tongue.
But so fast was the wasp that even before the tongue was out, he was past the
bullfrog's mouth, his stinger buried in the bullfrog's eye.

Half-blinded and infuriated, the bullfrog pulled away, and hearing the wasp
buzzing around behind him, lashed out with his powerful legs. But again, the
wasp was too fast, getting in close where, where the frog's legs would not reach
him, and burying his stinger deep into the frog's rear. And so the frog was left
croaking in embarrassed pain.

The wasp buzzed above, untouched and amused. Squinting up with his one good eye,
the bullfrog leapt, thinking to devour the pesky insect for his insults. But
this was the end of him, for he had opened up his underbelly to the swift wasp.
Darting around, the wasp stung viciously at the throat and belly of the
bullfrog, who was dead before he flopped wetly onto the ground. So it was that a
tiny insect ended the life of a giant warrior.

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[Beetle]
--------
Once, there was a frog who jealously guarded his pond. Some, he would let
approach, but others he would turn away with his great, mocking voice from his
lilypad in the middle of the water. Among those he turned away was a beetle, who
longed to drink of those waters. Too weak to confront the frog directly, he
watched, and learned that the frog drank through his skin. And so he planned.

The beetle trundled off to the outskirts of the woods, where the cockatrice
roamed. Those lands were foul, smeared with the greasy leavings of the
creatures, which few beings would think to touch. But beetle was not proud, and
asked if he might use the dung. "Take it, take all of it," the cockatrice said.
"What use have I for such foulness?"

Crawling back into the forest, the beetle came across a rotted yew tree,
surrounded by withered leaves and dropped berries. Few would bother with such a
decrepit thing, but beetle was not proud, and asked a passing druid if he might
have use of it. "If you might find use of it, take what you will," the druid
replied.

And so it was that each day, the beetle would make a long walk to the fields of
the cockatrice, and gather a ball of dung. Then he would take the ball all the
way to the yew tree, where he would roll it about in the leaves and berries.
Finally, he would carry the ball all the way to a hill overlooking the pond, and
let it roll down and drop into the water. Then he would go about his business.

Each day, the beetle would begin again, and though the frog disliked the daily
intrusion into his pond, he thought little of it. But each day, the frog grew
weaker and weaker and could not understand why. He did not understand how his
own skin had betrayed him, soaking up cockatrice leavings and yew poison every
moment he sat in the pond. And so he finally died, and the beetle came forth
unmolested to drink deep of the befouled waters.

-----
[Bat]
-----
Once, there was a frog who lived in a great palace. Beloved by the Sun, he had
been gifted with many retainers, extravagant clothing and exquisite food for all
his days. So he grew fat and lived in joy, but so too did he draw the scorn of a
bat, who loved the Night.

Among the many great furnishings of the palace, the bat found it easy to hide.
He allowed the frog his retainers and his clothing, but the food he denied.
Sometimes he would steal it as it cooked, other times he would steal it as the
servants carried it to the frog. Sometimes, when he was feeling especially
spiteful, he would steal it right off the plate in front of the frog. So swift
of speed and sly with distractions was the bat that none in the palace ever had
any idea he was there. So did the bat take the food away from the frog.

In time, deprived of food, the frog became hungry and paranoid. When the meals
failed to come out of the kitchen, he would order the cooks killed as useless.
When the servants brought him only empty plates, he would have them killed as
thieves. And when a succulent dish disappeared before his very eyes, he would
have a magician killed, or whoever appeared closest to a magician. And so, in
time, the bat took his retainers away from him.

Left alone, with no food to fill his belly, the frog became desperate. All he
had in his palace were grand decorations and extravagant clothes. So, growing
thinner, he found no other option than to eat his silver-furred robes, his
silken gloves and his fire-red leather boots. But in time, even the extravagant
Sun's bounty of clothing dwindled to nothing. So did the bat take the frog's
clothing.

Finally, maddened and starved, in an empty palace, the frog died. So did the bat
take the frog's life. And none ever knew that he was there at all.

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[Scorpion]
----------
Once, there was a frog.

Then there was a dead frog.

The only clue a scorpion had been there at all was the venom.