Frog had interrupted his search across the worlds with a stop back at Traverse Town, to rest and resupply. He had his own fair share of brooding to do. With each world he searched and turned up no results, the bleaker things began to look for him ever finding his Queen. Even if she had survived their worlds distruction, and was spirited away to parts unknown, what then? Most worlds were infested by Heartless; they would have claimed her by now. But what if they hadn't? What if she was trapped somewhere, held captive, or worse?
There were too many 'what if's, and Frog's inherent sense of duty meant he simply had to keep going until he found her.
He could've used a drink or two, though, so when he entered what he thought was a standard fare tavern -- cafes were completely unfamiliar to him -- he was disappointed to find they would not serve ale. And 'coffee'? What was that bitter-smelling substance? With a majority of the menu completely unfamiliar to a warrior from the Middle Ages, he simply settled for plain water. The frog-man
( ... )
The conversation with the moogle caught Frog's attention; he recognised Oswald's voice from their conversation on the communicators. He was curious about the rabbit, he had to admit, but he was quickly learning that all manner of creatures were common in various worlds, not just humans. People like Frog were more a norm than an exception.
"You seem in an ill humour, friend," Frog croaked as the moogle flitted away, helping himself to a seat opposite Oswald. "Were you unvictorious in your duel?"
"...Oh, hey." He recognized the frog from the conversation yet. He takes another dejected sip of his almost-gone drink. "I haven't had it yet. The mouse hasn't responded at all!"
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There were too many 'what if's, and Frog's inherent sense of duty meant he simply had to keep going until he found her.
He could've used a drink or two, though, so when he entered what he thought was a standard fare tavern -- cafes were completely unfamiliar to him -- he was disappointed to find they would not serve ale. And 'coffee'? What was that bitter-smelling substance? With a majority of the menu completely unfamiliar to a warrior from the Middle Ages, he simply settled for plain water. The frog-man ( ... )
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Oswald blinked. But when the moogle responded that anything that was for the king, his confusion turned into annoyance.
"No, I'm not the king." He popped down his cup. "Just gimme another one of these...chocolate...things."
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"You seem in an ill humour, friend," Frog croaked as the moogle flitted away, helping himself to a seat opposite Oswald. "Were you unvictorious in your duel?"
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