A/N: FT + (canon!) agender.

Funny fluff os.

A Little

Frosch loves dirt, worms, butterflies, pill-bugs—plus frogs, obviously. Most people don't know Frosch tried to become a frog. Now they settle for dressing like one and practicing frog-sounds. They call themselves a frog, because people should be what they want to be.

Frosch is also well-versed in the differences between frogs and toads. Lector is an expert by accident, hearing Frosch's lecture many times.

It's a slow day. After following a snail all morning, Frosch joins Lector to wander into town.

They don't have any destination in mind; Lector buys some fruit for Sting, who hasn't been eating enough. Then Frosch sees a frog hoodie, thick and warm for winter and with the exact coloring (they inform Lector) of a blue poison arrow frog.

"You should get it," Lector reasons. "You don't have anything for autumn, let alone for snow. With that, you can layer."

Frosch is still waffling, shifting foot to foot, so he pulls out his trump card.

"Rogue will want you to stay warm. He'll worry."

Concern ripples over Frosch's face.

"Okay," they say immediately.

When they enter the shop, Frosch pulls down the smallest size. It's big enough to fall past their knees, which is perfect. Rogue really will get worried about Frosch being cold. When Rogue worries, the whole family has to put up with it.

"Good choice. For a friend?" the woman at the counter asks.

"For me," Frosch says cheerfully. "I like frogs."

The woman takes in Frosch's outfit and smiles.

"That's a unique interest." Winking as if paying Frosch a compliment, she says, "Normally boys like the amphibian hoodies, but I think blue is a lovely girl color."

Shrugging, Frosch hands her the coins Lector counts out (Frosch tends to lose things, so Lector is in charge of the purse) and takes the hoodie reverently.

After they exit, Frosch is silent for half a block. Lector assumes they're distracted by their new frog merchandise.

"Is blue a girl color?" Frosch asks him.

Lector glances over.

Yes. Inasmuch as culture dictates these things.

"No."

"Frogs aren't just for boys," Frosch nods, decisive.

"No," Lector agrees.

"Let's go to the guild," Frosch says. "I want to show Rogue."

Frosch tries to turn west.

"The guild is this way. Silly."

"Frogs don't need a sense of direction like some animals."

Lector doesn't tell them they're not a frog. Letting Frosch pretend to be a frog is the same as accepting their lack of gender. Obviously one is real and one isn't; but neither are understood by others. Frosch doesn't need anyone else telling them what they can and can't be.

"Maybe most frogs don't," Lector says, "but you need a sense of direction or else you can't find Rogue when he needs you."

"Oh!" Frosch's eyes widen. "I never thought of that."