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The Rise of the Raccoon Queen
Or The Big Grey Fluffy Butt Matter
A Story of Faerie
© 2020 by M. Mitchell Marmel
(Additional characters by E.O. Costello and W.D. Reimer.)
Thumbnail art by
tegerio and 
Major Matt Mason
Epilogue.
“Gawain, dearest?”
“Yes, Persephone, my love?”
“What are you reading?”
“Recipes, my dear. For frog legs.”
“[Rae-beet].”
“Oh, Gawain, don’t take on so about him. He looks rather cute.”
“[Rae-beet].”
“He’d look cuter in the moat, where his kind belong . . . or sautéed in butter, served with lemon.”
“I doubt he’d make a full meal for you, love.”
“[Rae-beet].”
“If he’d only stop roosting on top of my head . . . here, get off, you.” The Crown Prince of Faerie plucked the large frog from his head, carried it to a nearby open window, and dropped it into the moat. The Royal Skunk had no worries about the frog getting injured.
He’d hurled the frog out the window on more than one occasion.
“Dratted Elfhamian . . . I swear, if that indefinite buck had anything to do about this . . . “
“I rather doubt, my love, that the Master of Elfhame would do anything of the sort.”
Far below, the frog surfaced, blinking placidly. It had come a long way from the pond up in the North Country; here it was warmer, with plenty of insects for food. And it was the largest of its kind in the moat, and the others deferred to it.
“[Rae-beet],” it croaked in a resigned tone, as if to say, “Eh, it’s a living.”
NOW . . . The End.
<PREVIOUS>
<FIRST>
Or The Big Grey Fluffy Butt Matter
A Story of Faerie
© 2020 by M. Mitchell Marmel
(Additional characters by E.O. Costello and W.D. Reimer.)
Thumbnail art by
tegerio and 
Major Matt MasonEpilogue.
“Gawain, dearest?”
“Yes, Persephone, my love?”
“What are you reading?”
“Recipes, my dear. For frog legs.”
“[Rae-beet].”
“Oh, Gawain, don’t take on so about him. He looks rather cute.”
“[Rae-beet].”
“He’d look cuter in the moat, where his kind belong . . . or sautéed in butter, served with lemon.”
“I doubt he’d make a full meal for you, love.”
“[Rae-beet].”
“If he’d only stop roosting on top of my head . . . here, get off, you.” The Crown Prince of Faerie plucked the large frog from his head, carried it to a nearby open window, and dropped it into the moat. The Royal Skunk had no worries about the frog getting injured.
He’d hurled the frog out the window on more than one occasion.
“Dratted Elfhamian . . . I swear, if that indefinite buck had anything to do about this . . . “
“I rather doubt, my love, that the Master of Elfhame would do anything of the sort.”
Far below, the frog surfaced, blinking placidly. It had come a long way from the pond up in the North Country; here it was warmer, with plenty of insects for food. And it was the largest of its kind in the moat, and the others deferred to it.
“[Rae-beet],” it croaked in a resigned tone, as if to say, “Eh, it’s a living.”
NOW . . . The End.
<PREVIOUS>
<FIRST>
Category Story / General Furry Art
Species Skunk
Size 1280 x 854px
File Size 252.3 kB
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