(excerpt) On the morning after Fiddlebug hatched from his green walnut shell, the sun rose over his mossy bed sending bright beams down to wake the little guy up. He stretched and yawned so big you could see past his pointy little teeth all the way down his throat. When he was done he hiccoughed a little puff of smoke and opened big emerald green eyes to see the world.
Trees reached their branches up to the blue sky all around him. Grass waved closer to the ground. The scent of spring filled his nose as he breathed in. Everywhere were bug sounds and bird chirps. Fiddlebug was amazed with it all.
He got to his feet and found that his legs weren't so wobbly. He stretched his wings and found that they weren't quite so crinkly. He took a few careful steps and then heard his belly rumble and decided he must be hungry. This was a problem. Not only did he not know what exactly he was but he had no idea what he might eat. He decided it would be best if he found someone to ask, so off he went in search of anyone who might have the answer. His tail still seemed to think it was in charge and tripped him once or twice, but after a little time and some practice it decided to get along with him and let his head lead the way. The first creature he came to in the meadow was a spring peeper that was almost as green as he was.