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Description
One of my very favorite vixens ever <3 Prose generously provided by tempo321! He’s working on a story featuring Robin and Marian that I’m really looking forward to.
Spring sunlight lit the courtyard of Nottingham Castle. In the shade of an oak tree, Maid Marian sat on a swing. Her legs rocked the swing a little higher. Not high enough to draw attention from the few castle staff who might be around. But enough. Her tail twitched, lifting the hem of her dress in just such a way that the handsome tod behind her could see up it.
Robin Hood, ever observant, took note of the face that he could see the full length of her tail and the white fur of her rump. His ears sprung up, two triangles of alertness. In their few months of marriage, he had not shown any sign of being less easily scandalized glimpses of his wife’s bottom.
In spite of the blush burning under her cheek fur, the vixen chuckled. “Oh! Well, something has caught your attention, my dear Robin.”
A winning smile spread across his muzzle. “You always have my attention, darling.”
Her ears twitched down in her hat at the flattery. “I love you with all my heart, you know.”
The cockiness in his tone faded, replaced by lovestruck honesty. “You may have mentioned that during the most important moments of my life, yes.”
Heart aflutter, she pressed her bare toes together as they swing above the grass. Being married meant learning to speak a language of intimacy that she’d never learned. Her fluency was not yet at the point where she could make requests with complete confidence, though her old friend proved a very attentive study partner. She gave her tail another dainty flick and rubbed her bare feet together. “And I’m quite interested in loving you with the rest of me too…”
“Is that so?” Agile as ever, he rolled to sit in front of her.
“Mmmhmm.” Her paws bumped his bare knees.
His eyes flashed down to them, then back to her. He leaned back on the grass, arms behind his head. “And what did I do to merit this?”
“Why, stealing my heart.” She kicked lightly off his knees, swinging back.
“A roguish deed.” His hand batted playfully at her, but she kicked off him again to swing just out of his reach. “You must think me quite the scoundrel.”
“You are a scoundrel.” She chuckled. Her feet jostled playfully across his lap. They bumped a hint of stiffness through the fabric. “A scoundrel of my very own.”
His head rose from the grass. “Yours?”
“Yes, mine.” Her toes flicked the hem of his tunic. She raised a hand, letting the gold band glint in the sun. “You do have a ring on your finger. And it looks quite a lot like this one.”
Glancing at his own hand, he feigned surprise. He sat up. “So I do.”
She gripped the ropes of the swing and leaned forward with a smile and swish of her tail. One foot traced along the bare fur of his thigh while the other braced for another hop against his knee. “You won’t be getting away from me this time, Robin Hood.”
He grabbed her foot. “And you won’t be getting away from me!”
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