A wet croaking frog

Peeking out from beneath the hood of the rain slicker, Bree blinked rapidly to keep the rain out of her eyes. The rain came down in sheets, bouncing off the pavement, going off in all directions. It really was a dark and stormy night, but her associates would have her hung and quartered if she even thought of describing the current conditions that way. Bugger them though. They were not the ones down on the ground, or sounding like they were stepping on a croaking frog every time they took a step. But she was on a mission, and rain was just a minor inconvenience. She had a load of macarons to liberate from a local bakery, before anyone got the same idea or thought to put the place under surveillance.