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I was asked to post this story by a friend from Anthroverse by the name of Keva Stonemane. It is his writing, but was posted here BY HIS REQUEST. If you feel so inclined, ask him on Anthroverse.

Salutations and warm welcome to those who have come to this corner of my profile; I thank you in advance for your curiosity towards my work, and offer you the best accomidations I can as you sit and listen to my tales come to life. I can tell you nothing without spoiling the story itself, so allow this lion the pleasure of leaping right into his legend.

Intro

In the forest known as the Mystic Woods, where the leaves shimmer with rich greens and blues and the dewdrops stretch rainbows of light through the air, where the waters are clear and the air crisp, there stood a castle of red stone and black tile roof. A heavy oaken double door guarded the mansion's entrance, black wood with gold edges, and four great, triangle-topped towers marked the corners of the estate, each with a window on all of their four sides that exposed a view of the forest for countless miles in any direction. The main hall of this castle took up only half of the area within the thick stone walls, the other half a finely decorated courtyard and garden marked by a shimmering pond and low branched trees that swept the soft grass with their heavy boughs. This castle was a haven for the creatures who were so used to starving among the wilds and enduring the cold of nature's nights, not just for its walls and halls, but for the beautiful vixen who held reign over the land and sway over the hearts of her people.

Her name was Emara.

She was a tall, slender fox with fur of a light purple shade. Her underside, as well as the ends of her lean, supple limbs, was in a coat of white as flawless as fallen show, and her hair was a dark forest green that contrasted with the turquoise of her brilliant eyes. Her ears were set high on her head as though a natural crown, perfectly outlining the edges of her thin, pointed muzzle and always proudly upright. Her figure was feminine, without a doubt to anyone's mind, but too regal and kind mannered was she to have anyone thinking her a thing of lust.

In days long past, she had come from faraway lands beyond anyone's knowledge and calmed the anger between predator and prey to unite the people in an effort to give benefit to all. In return, they used the resources of their precious home to construct a magnificent castle among their sylvan paradise, sacrificing part of their own land to give her a safe place to rest at night, away from the furies of nature that still so abounded. In gratitude, she opened her doors to any of her subjects who would wish refuge with her, giving them a haven in which to raise their children and spend their time without worry for shelter or lack of food.

They considered her a Queen of great benevolence and a Goddess of striking beauty. But no one considered her the one thing she truly wished to be; a Lover.

The Mystic Woods;

Queen Emara

Springtime was, inarguably, the most beautiful time of the entire year in the Mystic Woods.

Every bough hung heavy with wet, billowing flowers, explosive shades of red, pink, orange, and yellow that filled the forest with their pungent, sugary scent. Bugs of most breathtaking design fluttered through the leaves, the humming of their broad, fanning wings an almost constant drone in the ears of those who wandered the forest paths. Heavy, ripe fruits of all sorts of exquisite flavors dotted the branches of bush and tree alike, many hanging with bites already taken out of their fleshy sides by lazy passerby who didn't wish to pick their meal before indulging. The streams melted from winter's bounty ran deep of the clearest, glittering water, broken only by the leaping of tiny fish as their schools were swept downstream in the flood.

On this particular day, the sun was perched directly over the center of the Castle Courtyard, and in its warmth Emara sat, her legs crossed under the black silk of her dress. The smooth material hugged tight to her upper body, the gold designs of leaves and branches following her natural curves until they reached her hips. Here, the dress billowed out wide, covering every part of her body except the end of her tail and the powder white tips of her paws.

She sat in the lush grass of her courtyard, underneath the willow tree that marked the center, with her eyes downcast, ignoring the splendor of spring. Her fingers idly twirled a piece of grass, her brow furrowed in contemplation as her subjects spent their leisure time in the courtyard around her. She envied their simple mindedness at times; to them, spring was merely spring, and mates were chosen and kept with a minimal of suffering involved aside from the usual wrestling to earn them. How easily happiness came to them... a decent meal, a place to sleep, and they were generally blissful little things without any exceptions. For her, however, food and shelter were just not enough; not without a kind man by her side to enjoy them with her.

Oh, how she craved a romantic man, like those in the books she read! A man who would see to her happiness, and the happiness of her people; kind at heart, gentle in all his actions... how wonderful it would be to meet such a man, and have him for her own!

But those chances were depressingly slim; her two-footed kind was rare in this land, and her feral followers were usually too provincial to offer her the mental stimulation even the simplest of tomes could freely impart. There were some exceptions, of course; she could usually rely on the clan of Caribou to the south for a story about a legendary ramming contest or something of the sort, or on the birds to describe the beauty of the world from above. But above all the others of her people, Emara would rely upon her trusted Advisor, a little fox by the name of Worrin.

Even now, as she sat pouring over her thoughts in the warm grass of her courtyard, Worrin padded his way up to her, his blazing orange fur offset by the black of his paws extending up to his wrists and ankles. The tips of his ears were also this dark shade, but his muzzle and the end of his tail were a brilliant white that Worrin cleaned with meticulous pride. His eyes sparkled a blue clear and bright as the sun, evincing his cheery smile as he sat next to Emara and chirped.

"Good morning, Your Highness!"

"Oh, Worrin!" the Queen replied, shaking her head to jump back to reality as was proper manners, "I hadn't heard you coming, over the din of the others! Good morning!"

"I trust you're having a pleasant day so far?"

"Very much so, as a matter of fact; I love how this whole forest seems to explode during spring..."

"It's been my favorite season since I was a pup," Worrin smiled, curling his tail over the tips of his toes and sniffing at the air, "Save the constant need to squabble everyone else seems to feel, I could not think of a more perfect place to spend one's time."

"Let's just hope to ourselves that ambitious boys don't overdo their little struggle and cause any injury," the Monarch softly smiled, tucking her knees up to her chest and wrapping her own tail about herself, "I can imagine how loneliness might drive some into more anger than is safe."

There was silence from her side, and when she turned her head to look Worrin's brow was arched up high, a cheeky grin across his lips as he regarded her.

"What?"

"What does the Queen of all people know of loneliness?" He laughed, "You spend your every moment from waking till sleep swarmed by your people wishing to express their love, and even when the night has come and your subjects gone to sleep, you sometimes take a restless cub to your bed and help them off to sleep of their own. Where do you have time to be lonely?"

"Company is one thing, Worrin; they do not fight and wrestle for simple friends to talk to."

Worrin turned his eyes on the fighting males in the courtyard around him, and he furrowed his brow for a moment before murmuring uncertainly, "So... you want a mate?"

"That is where me and my people differ," Emara sighed, "They seek mates, urged on by the primal desire to make cubs and pups so the species lives on. I seek romance; a love beyond that which leads to offspring alone. A man who can win my heart and mind and be a just King in this land."

"I'm not sure I grasp it..." The fox replied, brow still furrowed in his signature knot of deep contemplation.

"Not much of a surprise... I have to grasp the concept preceding first, yes? I can't step up to the idea of your love until I understand that."

His paw pointed out to the courtyard, and Emara was now forced to arch her brow in confusion. She didn't expect him to understand what she spoke of right away (None of the others she spoke to about it did, anyway), but to not have hold of the desire to mate? During spring, of all times?

"You don't already understand it? Aren't you interested by females during spring? This is the time of year you're supposed to be courting, after all."

"I'm interested, yes, but I'm not going to roll around in the dirt for one of them, especially if she'll only tolerate me if I roll around in it best. It's a very puerile idea that only the toughest among us will be recognized at all."

She had to concede this was true.

"And besides," Worrin continued, "I'm much more content to spend my time here with you, helping you in all of your Queenly duties. For example, right now I'll be of assistance by informing you that another couple is waiting in the throne room, desiring your blessing and being exceptionally patient thus far. Or perhaps they're just too wrapped up in one another to care?"

Emara clenched her jaw and sighed, "The bounty of spring, as it were... who are they?"

"Miss Teida Stoneridge, Princess of the Stoneridge Clan to the south, has brought with her a young Johas Tenprong, seeking your blessing both to affirm their love and to improve relations betwixt us. Shall we?"

"We shall," Emara smiled, pushing herself to her feet and shaking out her billowing tapestry of hair. Worrin propped up to his own feet and shuffled to his place in front of her, his tail raised like a natural banner as they set off across the courtyard in the usual fashion of their two person royal procession. He enjoyed this position of power; no matter the size or strength or number of beasts in his path, when Emara was under his escort, they would instantly step aside and let them pass unmolested. But while he was diligent and respectful of this honor, if he were asked, he would grudgingly admit to every so often flaunting it over others for whom he had no special preference.

They crossed the open gateways of the red stone interior and padded into the dark hallways lit only by high windows dotting the upper sections.

Animals of every species paced the halls along with them, shifting off to the sides of the passage as the two came close and each offering a sweet-voiced, "Good morning, Your Highness!" She would always smile and wave to them, replying in kind, "Good morning to you, as well," often kneeling down to pet those who were smaller and younger. She couldn't get over how their little faces would light up, and they would run off like a flash to go and tell someone of the honor they'd just received.

The entrance to the Throne Room belied the size of the structure. The cavernous chamber was positively immense, taller than a full grown tree and large enough to comfortably house hundreds if the need were ever to arise. At one end, a great oaken double door from directly outside stood in full regal prominence, slumbering bears at either end on either side responsible for muscling it open when visitors came. At the other wing, a raised platform of stone bore upon it the elegantly carved throne that was Emara's token of Monarchy. The stump of the mightiest tree her people could find was chiseled by claw and tooth into this masterpiece of sylvan craft, and it was there that Emara chose to sit for this ceremony. Worrin took his place at her side and sat with high head and drawn chest, his tail curled over his toes as they both looked out over the Throne Room to observe their visitors.

They did not return the favor. Planted firmly in the middle of the room, the two dark brown Caribou were oblivious to the world as they poured their seemingly endless affection over one another. Emara had to giggle at first in the face of their amour, covering her hand with her paw to give them the silent moment she thought it would take for them to work it out. However, as minutes drifted by, her patience shrunk, and she began to twitch her nose in vexation.

The Monarch coughed, gently calling for attention from her somewhat overzealous visitors. Her pleasant smile went unnoticed, however, as the two continued to indulge in one another, and it slowly drifted off into a grimace of aggravation. What rude creatures these were; how discourteous, to not even dignify those who are present at your behest.

But her irritation was outmatched by her envious sorrow, and a quiver of invidiousness took hold of her heart as she watched. Her stomach felt as an empty pit as she repeated with greater sonority she cleared her throat louder this time.

Still, the two forged on, each seemingly determined to wipe their noses on absolutely every inch of their partner's upper body before turning up to regard Emara. In the face of their almost sickening flirtation, she began to entertain the notion that perhaps they knew she was there, and wished only to mock her with their fervor. It was rather like they knew what pain they caused... as though they were searching to evoke her misery intentionally by so gluttonously partaking of one another without an ounce of modesty. Lustful beasts... who were they to bring such vanity and hubris into her halls and rub it under her nose?

"Excu-!" Worrin shouted, now up on all four of his feet to loudly protest their disrespect to his Queen. His words, however, were suppressed by the grip of her paw on his muzzle. His bright blue eyes turned up to curiously regard her as she took to her feet, and put her other paw in her own mouth. Two fingers pressed to her teeth, and such a shrill, screaming whistle erupted that Worrin had to stagger back to protect his ears from the din.

Before her, on the Throne Room floor, the two Caribou finally got the hint. Their heads shot up and their eyes went wide, staring at the Queen before them in consternation as she let her hand fall, and crossed her arms across her chest.

"Miss Stoneridge, Mr. Tenprong," she spoke, her voice low and seething, inaudible if not for the intensity of her frustration, "As Queen of this land, it is one of my greatest joys to see the residents of this beautiful land find the beauty of love within themselves, and only greater so when I am invited to extend my wishes for happiness, prosperity, and bounty of family to them personally. It is my personal elation to extricate myself from the obligations of Monarchy and witness the bond of two souls as they engage themselves in the selfless (She annunciated this word heavily) entrapments of true love. Before I can be asked to bestow my blessings, however, it is my place to ask you, as one more trial on your path, do you both feel you are fit for the rigors of partner hood, and parenthood?"

Johas and Teida turned to look at each other, eyes white and wide as they returned their expressions to Emara and let their heads dip in slow, tense nods.

"Inspirational," the Monarch muttered, putting her hands now on her hips as she continued her dialogue, "Then I grant to both of you, in all of my influence, the blessings of this nation upon your love. And on a more personal note," she continued, her eyes red and bright with welling tears, "I hope you two can understand the gift you have found not just from me, but within each other. So far you have been blatantly ru-"

The Queen bit her tongue and turned her head down to the ground to silence herself. Those words she had been poised to speak had not been fueled by any more than fiery jealousy and spite, and already this maelstrom of emotion was breaking her down and letting tears freely cascade along the curves of her profile. Though the two Caribou could not yet see these tears, Worrin could, and his heart was pounding out of his chest, hair on end as he watched his Queen do something she had never done before in his presence; give in to the moment, and cry.

Her hands clasped together and she swallowed to speak her next words without their virulent edges bared, her voice cracking barely as she concluded.

"I am sorry for my outburst... It... I... I am sorry..."

And without one further word, without a sniffle, sob, or whine, without a sound at all, Emara turned on her heel, and floated toward the hallway on the right of her throne as though she were a specter instead of a woman. Behind her, Worrin and the Caribou sat in abject confusion, silently blinking as they watched her go. They sat, silent still, for several seconds before Worrin turned back, locked eyes with the visitors, and forced a pleasant smile through all the terror he could have imagined bearing in his heart.

"Well," he began, "thank you both for your time and patience in the matters of romance and friendship! I would be more than happy to stay and help you with any other issues of interest, but a sudden disturbance keeps me from offering such assistance at this particular moment, and so I must take my leave and go attend to business. You're welcome to relax in the Courtyard or the Castle as long as you'd like," he concluded, sitting up himself and beginning to run off after his beloved Queen, "It's been a pleasure meeting you both, Miss Stoneridge, Mr. Tenprong!"

And as his tiny orange form darted out of the room, the two had no recourse but to sit there, jaws agape, as the booming silence of something gone terribly wrong rang in their perked ears.