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Very Fawnedly Yours
© 2013 by Walter Reimer
(All characters courtesy of
EOCostello, 
MercMarten and 
Major Matt Mason. Any resemblance between characters depicted herein and any real person, living or dead, is too bad for them.)
The setting is Spontoon Island, in the story section Let's Doe It (Let's Fall In Love).
Art by
Fluffball
__________________________________________________
Part 49.
Gwladys:
Sunday was Boxing Day, and I had gotten up early to cook breakfast for the staff. It was traditional, you know, and Willow and Reggie had been more than happy to pitch in and help.
Don’t look at me like that; of course I know how to cook. I’m distressingly self-sufficient at times.
Anyway, the staff dined well on French toast with all the trimmings. Said trimmings included freshly-baked orange muffins.
Joss, of course, slept in and loudly demanded his breakfast. He looked surprised when I carried his tray in. “What’s going on?”
“Boxing Day, dear. Remember?”
“Oh. Thank you.”
I gave him a smile and a kiss. “Enjoy your breakfast, Joss.” As I went back to the door I could see him sinking out of sight behind the Sunday Times. “By the way, we’re going to church later in the morning.”
“Bah.”
“The whole family.”
“Bah.”
“You say that so much, Josslyn, one could almost imagine you were a ram, and not a buck.”
“I’m busy, woman!”
“Not so busy you can’t go to church once a year, Josslyn.”
My ears twitched as, as if on cue, the church bells over at St. Peter’s started to ring.
I couldn’t see Joss’ face because of the paper, but his antlers jerked as he flinched. He mumbled something.
“What?”
A slightly louder mumble.
“Pardon?”
“I said I’ll be downstairs.”
I smiled serenely and went back downstairs.
The service was scheduled for mid-morning, and Reverend Bumble made the sermon short and relatively sweet. He used the season and the holiday to remind us all to treat each other better. Josslyn looked a bit bored by it all, and grumbled as several of the villagers went up to George afterward and shook paws with him complimenting him on how well he looked.
And how much his grandfawn resembled him.
Willow had slipped into the confessional before the service, and when we had a moment to ourselves I asked her how things went.
My daughter-in-law giggled and whispered to me, “At one point the poor vicar asked, ‘Are you confessing, or bragging?’”
***
Willow:
A light snowfall was starting up as we got back to the house, and after changing out of my ‘Sunday-go-to-meeting’ clothes and having a light lunch I went to lie down.
“REGGIE!”
Good Lord, his voice carries. What on earth was his father bellowing about now?
I went to investigate and saw my mate’s rack as he stepped into the den. I sidled close so I could hear what was going on. “Yes, Father?”
“When are you planning on leaving for Hawaii?”
Hawaii?
Oh, yes, that’s right. The business trip.
“The train leaves at eight, Father, and the office in Southampton assures me the plane will be ready.”
“I want reports on how you handle things in Chicago. Those idiots have managed to bungle things pretty badly.”
“I thought you’d want reports. And, yes, they’ve not done right by us or by their workers.” A pause. “I had thought of taking Willow along.”
“Bah. Dragging a woman in her condition halfway round the world?”
I frowned at that.
Reggie said, “If that’s the case, Father, I’ll just have her stay here, then.”
“Good.”
“I mean here, at the House.”
“I said – What!?”
“Well, it’s rather rum to leave her rattling about our house in Mayfair all by herself, isn’t it? What if she needs help? Besides, Mummy will be glad of the company – “
“Very well! Take her with you, if that suits you.”
“Thank you, Father.”
I smiled and tiptoed away to talk to Gwladys.
Interestingly, I couldn’t find her. “Travis?”
“Yes, Ma’am?”
“Where is Lady Gwladys?”
“Oaks, Ma’am.”
“Oaks.”
It transpired that ‘Oaks’ was a small cottage down by the Crimea River. The snow was falling a bit faster, so I bundled up well and trudged my way to the place.
Gwladys opened the door when I knocked. “Willow! What a pleasant surprise. Come in and warm your hooves up by the fire.”
“Thanks, Gwladys.” I took off my coat and sat down. “Oof. It’s getting harder to get in and out of chairs.”
Gwladys settled into her chair after closing the door. “How far along are you now?”
“Eight months.”
She nodded, looking me over.
“What?”
She sighed. “Just remembering what it was like when I was carrying Reggie. I always like to hear fawns bleating; it’s always been a shame that Reggie was an only fawn.”
I bit my lower lip. “Why was that?”
“You had to have been there. Josslyn’s reaction to Reggie . . . if we’d had any more, it just might have put him in a room next to his father.” She chuckled. “I always liked George, very gentle and kind. Fiona – Joss’ mother – we got along very well, almost from the start.”
“From what George told me, she sounds like she was fun to be around.”
“More than you know. She left me all her jewelry, and about forty boxes of cigars.”
“Forty!?”
“Absolutely true. They’re all in a humidor down in the basement. Josslyn can’t stand them, and I don’t smoke cigars.” She chuckled. “I expect Reggie can find a use for them, giving them out to all and sundry when the fawn’s born.”
That brought me up short. “You don’t care if it’s a buck or a doe?”
“Of course not, Willow. No matter what it is, it’ll be family, and will be loved.” She smiled at me. “And I know his parents will love him.”
“No matter what.”
“Exactly.”
<PREVIOUS><FIRST><NEXT>
© 2013 by Walter Reimer
(All characters courtesy of
EOCostello, 
MercMarten and 
Major Matt Mason. Any resemblance between characters depicted herein and any real person, living or dead, is too bad for them.)The setting is Spontoon Island, in the story section Let's Doe It (Let's Fall In Love).
Art by
Fluffball__________________________________________________
Part 49.
Gwladys:
Sunday was Boxing Day, and I had gotten up early to cook breakfast for the staff. It was traditional, you know, and Willow and Reggie had been more than happy to pitch in and help.
Don’t look at me like that; of course I know how to cook. I’m distressingly self-sufficient at times.
Anyway, the staff dined well on French toast with all the trimmings. Said trimmings included freshly-baked orange muffins.
Joss, of course, slept in and loudly demanded his breakfast. He looked surprised when I carried his tray in. “What’s going on?”
“Boxing Day, dear. Remember?”
“Oh. Thank you.”
I gave him a smile and a kiss. “Enjoy your breakfast, Joss.” As I went back to the door I could see him sinking out of sight behind the Sunday Times. “By the way, we’re going to church later in the morning.”
“Bah.”
“The whole family.”
“Bah.”
“You say that so much, Josslyn, one could almost imagine you were a ram, and not a buck.”
“I’m busy, woman!”
“Not so busy you can’t go to church once a year, Josslyn.”
My ears twitched as, as if on cue, the church bells over at St. Peter’s started to ring.
I couldn’t see Joss’ face because of the paper, but his antlers jerked as he flinched. He mumbled something.
“What?”
A slightly louder mumble.
“Pardon?”
“I said I’ll be downstairs.”
I smiled serenely and went back downstairs.
The service was scheduled for mid-morning, and Reverend Bumble made the sermon short and relatively sweet. He used the season and the holiday to remind us all to treat each other better. Josslyn looked a bit bored by it all, and grumbled as several of the villagers went up to George afterward and shook paws with him complimenting him on how well he looked.
And how much his grandfawn resembled him.
Willow had slipped into the confessional before the service, and when we had a moment to ourselves I asked her how things went.
My daughter-in-law giggled and whispered to me, “At one point the poor vicar asked, ‘Are you confessing, or bragging?’”
***
Willow:
A light snowfall was starting up as we got back to the house, and after changing out of my ‘Sunday-go-to-meeting’ clothes and having a light lunch I went to lie down.
“REGGIE!”
Good Lord, his voice carries. What on earth was his father bellowing about now?
I went to investigate and saw my mate’s rack as he stepped into the den. I sidled close so I could hear what was going on. “Yes, Father?”
“When are you planning on leaving for Hawaii?”
Hawaii?
Oh, yes, that’s right. The business trip.
“The train leaves at eight, Father, and the office in Southampton assures me the plane will be ready.”
“I want reports on how you handle things in Chicago. Those idiots have managed to bungle things pretty badly.”
“I thought you’d want reports. And, yes, they’ve not done right by us or by their workers.” A pause. “I had thought of taking Willow along.”
“Bah. Dragging a woman in her condition halfway round the world?”
I frowned at that.
Reggie said, “If that’s the case, Father, I’ll just have her stay here, then.”
“Good.”
“I mean here, at the House.”
“I said – What!?”
“Well, it’s rather rum to leave her rattling about our house in Mayfair all by herself, isn’t it? What if she needs help? Besides, Mummy will be glad of the company – “
“Very well! Take her with you, if that suits you.”
“Thank you, Father.”
I smiled and tiptoed away to talk to Gwladys.
Interestingly, I couldn’t find her. “Travis?”
“Yes, Ma’am?”
“Where is Lady Gwladys?”
“Oaks, Ma’am.”
“Oaks.”
It transpired that ‘Oaks’ was a small cottage down by the Crimea River. The snow was falling a bit faster, so I bundled up well and trudged my way to the place.
Gwladys opened the door when I knocked. “Willow! What a pleasant surprise. Come in and warm your hooves up by the fire.”
“Thanks, Gwladys.” I took off my coat and sat down. “Oof. It’s getting harder to get in and out of chairs.”
Gwladys settled into her chair after closing the door. “How far along are you now?”
“Eight months.”
She nodded, looking me over.
“What?”
She sighed. “Just remembering what it was like when I was carrying Reggie. I always like to hear fawns bleating; it’s always been a shame that Reggie was an only fawn.”
I bit my lower lip. “Why was that?”
“You had to have been there. Josslyn’s reaction to Reggie . . . if we’d had any more, it just might have put him in a room next to his father.” She chuckled. “I always liked George, very gentle and kind. Fiona – Joss’ mother – we got along very well, almost from the start.”
“From what George told me, she sounds like she was fun to be around.”
“More than you know. She left me all her jewelry, and about forty boxes of cigars.”
“Forty!?”
“Absolutely true. They’re all in a humidor down in the basement. Josslyn can’t stand them, and I don’t smoke cigars.” She chuckled. “I expect Reggie can find a use for them, giving them out to all and sundry when the fawn’s born.”
That brought me up short. “You don’t care if it’s a buck or a doe?”
“Of course not, Willow. No matter what it is, it’ll be family, and will be loved.” She smiled at me. “And I know his parents will love him.”
“No matter what.”
“Exactly.”
<PREVIOUS><FIRST><NEXT>
Category Artwork (Traditional) / General Furry Art
Species Cervine (Other)
Size 500 x 669px
File Size 486.1 kB
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