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Family Matters
© 2022 by M. Mitch Marmel
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shuffle99
Part Ten.
Winterbough:
Dinner that night was very convivial, with everyone at the table congratulating Ooo-er and Missy for their good fortune, although Sixth kept blinking and looking from the otter to the wolf with an air of confusion. He was so preoccupied that he almost missed his second slice of cake.
Almost.
["It is so that the visage at the front of yourself demonstrates disquiet and unease, Sixth, and my own self would have you relate to me what it is that baffles the brain-box of yourself.]" I asked him after supper.
He looked a little perplexed. ["Know that the brain-box of myself cannot relate to the strange and startling occurrence of the fact that the wolfess that formerly bore the cognomen of the Queen of her kind but now bears another cognomen is bearing cub by action of the Lady that created the Shining Land. It is surely puzzling to my own small self that this should be so, for in making Tessie with child, surely my own self did it in a manner that, while pleasing to commit, should surely be called the most difficult path, or, at any road, more difficult than the Works of the Lady."] He gave me a cheeky grin and headed for the door.
["Relate to me the path that the hooves of yourself propose to take."]
["It is so that my own tongue wishes to have speech with the mother of the child my own self fathered, which requires a visit to the abode of Goodwife Fletcher in the Greytor-village.]"
"[It is feared by myself that the reception that your own small self will receive from the aforementioned Goodwife will be as cold as the winds of Mount Humbert, and surely ye shall not prosper.]" In reply to this, he gave me that maddening (inherited) lopsided grin of his before heading out into the night.
Sure enough, later that night there was a knock on the Lodge's front door, and I left my mate’s side to go see what was going on. When I opened the door, I was immediately hit on the nut between the antlers with a rolling pin.
“Ow!”
Mrs. Fletcher was standing on the opposite side of the doormat, one paw grasping her rolling pin and the other firmly holding Sixth by one twisted ear. ["It is emphatically so that the progeny of yourself should not darken the door of the abode of myself, but shall infest the abode of your own self, heed the words of my tongue. Take-thou said progeny, and to the Netherhells take him, and your own small self."]
["Know that the mother of the fawn is --"]
I barely dodged the next blow, although she did manage to clip me with the rolling pin. ["The Stars Above witness that you are a futile concatenation of fur and bone. The First of Eldest has given upon me the charge of educating the lover of this antlered idiot, and by the Stars know that my own self shall teach that maid to keep a clean abode and learn the smooth and ancient tongue of ourselves. But know further that said tasks are frustrated by the presence of this Sky-Knows-What interfering with the fool grin of himself.'] Having fairly thrown Sixth at me (I didn't try to catch him), Mrs. Fletcher executed a smart about-face (very I&RA) and marched off.
I told Sixth to go to bed, after first praying to the Lady for strength, and I went back to sleep.
The next day, I really didn’t have much of an appetite for Stormy’s oatcakes, although they were delicious and I took care to praise my other foster-daughter for her efforts. One thing that one of the bucks at the [Sheaf] had told me days earlier was nagging at me.
[“Surely it is the pure truth which amazes my own small self, and many of the brothers (euphemistically speaking) of myself, that the Lady has chosen you, Master, for happenstances that are unusual even by the generous standards of the Shining Land that birthed us all.”]
Yeah.
“If the First of Eldest should ask, Master,” Nippy said as I headed for the door, “where may I say you have gone?”
“Tell her that I went to the Temple, Nippy,” and I walked out.
“Hiya, Master!” Cannizorro said as I stepped inside, taking my hat off and scrubbing the back of my head with my knuckles in respect. The vulpine Acolyte looked rather happy. “Greetings, and blessings of the Lady on ya.”
“In day’s childhood, greetings,” I sighed, taking a seat on the family pew, the one closest to the altar. “I had thought I’d come in and have a quiet moment.”
“Yeah yeah, sure sure,” the fox said enthusiastically. “It’s what I was telling Lupo yesterday. I was telling him, ‘Gee, Lupo, the Vale’s really a nice quiet place – “
“Hey, Cannizorro!” and the wolf came in, giving himself a quick Benedictio Interphalangeal. “Have you heard the latest? The Master’s otteress and wolfess are both pregnant!”
“Hey, Lupo, that’s great news. Is the Master the father?”
The wolf shrugged. “Who else could it be? I mean, sure that cute raccoon’s in the family way, but that’s because the Master shared her with his buck-fawn – “
“Hey, Lupo, the Master – “
“I mean, I’ve heard of furs keeping it in the family, but that – “
“Uh, Lupo – “
The wolf rounded on the fox. “Will you stop interrupting me? What is it?”
Cannizorro pointed at the pew, where I was sitting rather pointedly tapping my hoof on the floor.
Barely missing a beat Lupo waved and said cheerfully, “Good morning, Master! We heard about the Lady’s grace and favor toward you and your family – or should I say, growing family?” The wolf winked and said, “Some guys have all the luck, don’t they?”
I sighed. “Look, you two, I came here for some peace and quiet, because I can’t escape the feeling that the Lady’s playing some kind of joke on me.”
“Some joke,” Lupo said. “I mean, here you are, having venery with a whole bunch of beautiful femmes, and you think She’s joking with you?”
“Gee,” Cannizorro said, “I should be so lucky.”
“Oh hush, you two,” and we all looked up as Trixie walked in. The buxom wolfess was wearing her Acolyte’s robes. “Can’t you see the poor Master’s all confused?” So saying, she walked over to where I was sitting and before I could do anything about it, she’d pulled me into a tight hug and bestowed the Interphalangeal on me. It was an action that robbed me of my breath.
Mainly because my face was jammed deep into her cleavage.
Trixie pulled away, cupping my face in her paws, and she began to sing.
“Poor wond'ring buck!
Though your mind’s surely frayed
Our Lady’s Grace
You must embrace
Poor wond'ring buck!
Poor wond'ring buck!
If these poor words of mine
Can help you find
True peace of mind
Why, take them, they are thine!”
She pirouetted away, her robes flowing around her and revealing, in the best Mephitist manner, that she hadn’t a stitch on underneath, and stretched out on the altar. She lay on her side facing me, her head propped up on her right arm as Lupo and Cannizorro both sang.
“Take heart, in the Lady’s pow'r;
Your family surely will flow’r!”
Which had Trixie singing again:
“Dear wond'ring buck!
The Lady’s plans may be obscure
But maintain your faith
Let come what mayth
Good wondering buck!”
The wolfess then stood up, smoothed out her robes (which greatly disappointed her male counterparts) and faced the altar to give herself the Interphalangeal. Trixie then turned to me and said, “Ah’kay, Master? Be faithful to the Lady, and She’s blessing you with wonderful cubs, ‘cause the Lady loves cubs, almost as much as She loves venery.”
I thanked her, and left the Temple.
Deciding that I still needed someone to talk to, I decided to head down to Glenallid and have a talk with Matt if he was in residence. Misery loves company, after all, and I wanted to see how he felt about his mate bearing Missy’s cub – something I still had trouble wrapping my head around.
[Note appended to manuscript: “I’m not surprised you’re having trouble, Master.”]
[Note appended to manuscript: “What do you mean, wolfess?”]
[Note appended to manuscript: “Your head’s too small to wrap around anything. Now, your nose, on the other paw . . . “]
[Note appended to manuscript: “Shaddap.”]
The weather wasn’t the usual for Elfhame at this time of year, with the sun showing through breaks in the clouds. Sunny was likely enjoying it. However, the mountains off to the north looked a bit misty, which would likely mean more rain or even snow.
Don’t like the weather in Elfhame? Wait an hour.
Word of Missy, Ooo-er, and Tali’s pregnancies had gotten around, and more than a few of the Gypsy Wolfesses waved at me, while the mel wolves variously offered congratulations or expressed concern for my health. Former Sergeant MacGonagall put it in a nutshell.
“Weel, Master, it’d be a braw shame if ye were losin’ yer touch.”
Elves Don’t Lie, I accepted his concern with poor grace, and headed for the spot where Tali’s ant-wagon was located.
And stopped, slack-jawed, at the sight of the vacant spot of grass where the wagon had been.
Vacant save for a crudely lettered sign on a post:
<NEXT>
<PREVIOUS>
<FIRST>
© 2022 by M. Mitch Marmel
Thumbnail art by
shuffle99Part Ten.
Winterbough:
Dinner that night was very convivial, with everyone at the table congratulating Ooo-er and Missy for their good fortune, although Sixth kept blinking and looking from the otter to the wolf with an air of confusion. He was so preoccupied that he almost missed his second slice of cake.
Almost.
["It is so that the visage at the front of yourself demonstrates disquiet and unease, Sixth, and my own self would have you relate to me what it is that baffles the brain-box of yourself.]" I asked him after supper.
He looked a little perplexed. ["Know that the brain-box of myself cannot relate to the strange and startling occurrence of the fact that the wolfess that formerly bore the cognomen of the Queen of her kind but now bears another cognomen is bearing cub by action of the Lady that created the Shining Land. It is surely puzzling to my own small self that this should be so, for in making Tessie with child, surely my own self did it in a manner that, while pleasing to commit, should surely be called the most difficult path, or, at any road, more difficult than the Works of the Lady."] He gave me a cheeky grin and headed for the door.
["Relate to me the path that the hooves of yourself propose to take."]
["It is so that my own tongue wishes to have speech with the mother of the child my own self fathered, which requires a visit to the abode of Goodwife Fletcher in the Greytor-village.]"
"[It is feared by myself that the reception that your own small self will receive from the aforementioned Goodwife will be as cold as the winds of Mount Humbert, and surely ye shall not prosper.]" In reply to this, he gave me that maddening (inherited) lopsided grin of his before heading out into the night.
Sure enough, later that night there was a knock on the Lodge's front door, and I left my mate’s side to go see what was going on. When I opened the door, I was immediately hit on the nut between the antlers with a rolling pin.
“Ow!”
Mrs. Fletcher was standing on the opposite side of the doormat, one paw grasping her rolling pin and the other firmly holding Sixth by one twisted ear. ["It is emphatically so that the progeny of yourself should not darken the door of the abode of myself, but shall infest the abode of your own self, heed the words of my tongue. Take-thou said progeny, and to the Netherhells take him, and your own small self."]
["Know that the mother of the fawn is --"]
I barely dodged the next blow, although she did manage to clip me with the rolling pin. ["The Stars Above witness that you are a futile concatenation of fur and bone. The First of Eldest has given upon me the charge of educating the lover of this antlered idiot, and by the Stars know that my own self shall teach that maid to keep a clean abode and learn the smooth and ancient tongue of ourselves. But know further that said tasks are frustrated by the presence of this Sky-Knows-What interfering with the fool grin of himself.'] Having fairly thrown Sixth at me (I didn't try to catch him), Mrs. Fletcher executed a smart about-face (very I&RA) and marched off.
I told Sixth to go to bed, after first praying to the Lady for strength, and I went back to sleep.
The next day, I really didn’t have much of an appetite for Stormy’s oatcakes, although they were delicious and I took care to praise my other foster-daughter for her efforts. One thing that one of the bucks at the [Sheaf] had told me days earlier was nagging at me.
[“Surely it is the pure truth which amazes my own small self, and many of the brothers (euphemistically speaking) of myself, that the Lady has chosen you, Master, for happenstances that are unusual even by the generous standards of the Shining Land that birthed us all.”]
Yeah.
“If the First of Eldest should ask, Master,” Nippy said as I headed for the door, “where may I say you have gone?”
“Tell her that I went to the Temple, Nippy,” and I walked out.
“Hiya, Master!” Cannizorro said as I stepped inside, taking my hat off and scrubbing the back of my head with my knuckles in respect. The vulpine Acolyte looked rather happy. “Greetings, and blessings of the Lady on ya.”
“In day’s childhood, greetings,” I sighed, taking a seat on the family pew, the one closest to the altar. “I had thought I’d come in and have a quiet moment.”
“Yeah yeah, sure sure,” the fox said enthusiastically. “It’s what I was telling Lupo yesterday. I was telling him, ‘Gee, Lupo, the Vale’s really a nice quiet place – “
“Hey, Cannizorro!” and the wolf came in, giving himself a quick Benedictio Interphalangeal. “Have you heard the latest? The Master’s otteress and wolfess are both pregnant!”
“Hey, Lupo, that’s great news. Is the Master the father?”
The wolf shrugged. “Who else could it be? I mean, sure that cute raccoon’s in the family way, but that’s because the Master shared her with his buck-fawn – “
“Hey, Lupo, the Master – “
“I mean, I’ve heard of furs keeping it in the family, but that – “
“Uh, Lupo – “
The wolf rounded on the fox. “Will you stop interrupting me? What is it?”
Cannizorro pointed at the pew, where I was sitting rather pointedly tapping my hoof on the floor.
Barely missing a beat Lupo waved and said cheerfully, “Good morning, Master! We heard about the Lady’s grace and favor toward you and your family – or should I say, growing family?” The wolf winked and said, “Some guys have all the luck, don’t they?”
I sighed. “Look, you two, I came here for some peace and quiet, because I can’t escape the feeling that the Lady’s playing some kind of joke on me.”
“Some joke,” Lupo said. “I mean, here you are, having venery with a whole bunch of beautiful femmes, and you think She’s joking with you?”
“Gee,” Cannizorro said, “I should be so lucky.”
“Oh hush, you two,” and we all looked up as Trixie walked in. The buxom wolfess was wearing her Acolyte’s robes. “Can’t you see the poor Master’s all confused?” So saying, she walked over to where I was sitting and before I could do anything about it, she’d pulled me into a tight hug and bestowed the Interphalangeal on me. It was an action that robbed me of my breath.
Mainly because my face was jammed deep into her cleavage.
Trixie pulled away, cupping my face in her paws, and she began to sing.
“Poor wond'ring buck!
Though your mind’s surely frayed
Our Lady’s Grace
You must embrace
Poor wond'ring buck!
Poor wond'ring buck!
If these poor words of mine
Can help you find
True peace of mind
Why, take them, they are thine!”
She pirouetted away, her robes flowing around her and revealing, in the best Mephitist manner, that she hadn’t a stitch on underneath, and stretched out on the altar. She lay on her side facing me, her head propped up on her right arm as Lupo and Cannizorro both sang.
“Take heart, in the Lady’s pow'r;
Your family surely will flow’r!”
Which had Trixie singing again:
“Dear wond'ring buck!
The Lady’s plans may be obscure
But maintain your faith
Let come what mayth
Good wondering buck!”
The wolfess then stood up, smoothed out her robes (which greatly disappointed her male counterparts) and faced the altar to give herself the Interphalangeal. Trixie then turned to me and said, “Ah’kay, Master? Be faithful to the Lady, and She’s blessing you with wonderful cubs, ‘cause the Lady loves cubs, almost as much as She loves venery.”
I thanked her, and left the Temple.
Deciding that I still needed someone to talk to, I decided to head down to Glenallid and have a talk with Matt if he was in residence. Misery loves company, after all, and I wanted to see how he felt about his mate bearing Missy’s cub – something I still had trouble wrapping my head around.
[Note appended to manuscript: “I’m not surprised you’re having trouble, Master.”]
[Note appended to manuscript: “What do you mean, wolfess?”]
[Note appended to manuscript: “Your head’s too small to wrap around anything. Now, your nose, on the other paw . . . “]
[Note appended to manuscript: “Shaddap.”]
The weather wasn’t the usual for Elfhame at this time of year, with the sun showing through breaks in the clouds. Sunny was likely enjoying it. However, the mountains off to the north looked a bit misty, which would likely mean more rain or even snow.
Don’t like the weather in Elfhame? Wait an hour.
Word of Missy, Ooo-er, and Tali’s pregnancies had gotten around, and more than a few of the Gypsy Wolfesses waved at me, while the mel wolves variously offered congratulations or expressed concern for my health. Former Sergeant MacGonagall put it in a nutshell.
“Weel, Master, it’d be a braw shame if ye were losin’ yer touch.”
Elves Don’t Lie, I accepted his concern with poor grace, and headed for the spot where Tali’s ant-wagon was located.
And stopped, slack-jawed, at the sight of the vacant spot of grass where the wagon had been.
Vacant save for a crudely lettered sign on a post:
GON OUT
BACKSON
BISY
BACKSON
T.H.<NEXT>
<PREVIOUS>
<FIRST>
Category Story / General Furry Art
Species Deer
Size 1080 x 810px
File Size 1.17 MB
Listed in Folders
"Is the Master the father?”
The wolf shrugged. “Who else could it be? I mean, sure – “
I'm missing some subtlety here: Winterbough's missus knows the situation, and his small self self is getting bonus unearned street cred... yet here is is, quill presumably in hoof, all anxious-like
The wolf shrugged. “Who else could it be? I mean, sure – “
I'm missing some subtlety here: Winterbough's missus knows the situation, and his small self self is getting bonus unearned street cred... yet here is is, quill presumably in hoof, all anxious-like
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