My Sweet

What a scandal it would be if anyone found out about our trysts in the forest, that such a sublime, noble creature as she would lower herself to dally with a mongrel such as I. That a woman of such high-birth and breeding would consort with a filthy commoner, a mutt like me, is truly awe-inspiring and humbling.

Truly, I do not deserve her, yet she stays with me none the less.

My lady-- Ah, to say she is mine! It lightens my heart with ecstasy to say such things! But I digress. My lady is radiant. There are no words to grasp how perfect, how brilliant she is. Her eyes sparkle with untamed wit and coy strength, abilities she has put to fine use to achieve her great position. Her skin is flush and supple, silver as silk and chestnuts, taut when she flexes her power, such a mighty thing to behold! Her chest is gilded with evanescent glimmers, far brighter than the iris pearls bedecked upon the other women who she allows into her great fortress, I imagine. They shine as if there is an aurora trapped within her effortlessly graceful, wiry frame, escaping only through her bosom and eyes. Truly, there are no words to describe her beauty, nothing that can capture her perfection.

It is not simply her appearance that captivates me, but her mind as well. Her gaze, so full of ideas and trickery, ensnares my heart, and I fret not to escape its grasp. She is a mastermind in her element. Her guile and intellect have earned her much in her homeland, a place she can only try to explain to a commoner such as I. She tells me of her home, of the beautiful caverns she rules over, from the servants who present her with treasured sweets to the metallic pathways across ceilings and the bipeds who fight for her citizens' entertainment. She has earned it all, overcoming all other challengers and obstacles to become the ruler of her people. She is the one who trained and cultivated the bipeds into servitude, the great master who leads her people by example, even in the dangerous first raids she employed to train her servants.

She tells me that she hopes she may one day take me to see them, though I doubt this can ever pass, so far is my humble village from her beautiful, noble city. That she makes the effort to come so far, just to allow me to bask in her majesty, is truly gratifying to me.

In any case, she has earned her title and power, though bashful and humble she is when I speak of it. No matter her humility, I call her by name, so all may know of her glory, and as there is no other name more suited to honor her.

She is my love. She is the Empress, tamer of humans and snatcher of all confections. She is Queen of the Acrobatic Sparkling Rats of Hometropolis.

She is of noble birth and bearing, and yet she allows me, a simple farm boy, a farm-hound, to be graced with her presence. What a scandal it would be if any found out, as surely my humans would not understand our love and her citizens would never allow such a low-born as I to take so much of her valuable time. We meet in the forests, near the outskirts of my village, instead, to avoid the gazes of those who do not comprehend our true love. I have offered to travel farther -- I would travel any distance for her-- but she finds humor in my statements, stretching out her beautiful skin so I can see, showing that she can cover much more distance than I. Again, she has proven her grace and perfection, and leaves me to wonder why she has ever accepted me at all.

I ask how she can stand such a mutt as I by her side, my pelt a muddy beige and my ears drooping so. I am nothing handsome enough to be an equal match to her beauty. When I point out my shameful appearance, she gives her chirping laugh, brushing my face with her gentle paws. She traces the darker fur around one of my eyes, her own twinkling with amusement. I am unique to her, genuine, qualities she cannot find in her guileful city. There is humility in me, she says, that cannot be faked nor trained. I am her anchor to show that the world is not all the carnage of her human city, that there is still sincerity to be found in the forms of the meek, or so she claims.

Ah, how her words raise my spirit and give me hope to be beside her!

Ever since our first meeting, she has been nothing but a benefactor and paragon to me. She knows of my rivalry with the 'noble' stallion Thunder, who lords his strength and prestige over me, and does her best to protect me from his cruel-hearted jests. Our first meeting came from one of these follies, actually, an event that I, though unfortunate as it was, am glad to have faced, for without it I would have never met her.

One day, Thunder, or Lord Thunder of the Postal Inquisition as he prefers to be called, and his trained human returned to my town in their usual manner, greeting the citizens with ire and fire. That they come so far to simply hand off scraps of parchment is puzzling, but the humans seem to take kindly to their actions, most of the time. In any case, whist his human was off delivering one of these pages, Thunder picked up his usual pastime; Bothering the young humans and, of course, myself. After charging the biped pups for some time, I could stand it no longer and raced after them, determined to protect my human's small ones. With mildly unfortunate success, I turned his attention from the youths to me. That I, the mongrel of Homeville, the Homeville Hound, should stand my ground against him was unbelievable, nay unconceivable, to him, and his rage soon made that clear.

He struck, catching me with his horrid teeth and trotting gloatingly to the well. Though it seemed a mere bluff, that he would lord me over the abyss so, it was, in fact, not a jest at all. After a breaths length of time to wallow in my misfortunate, he let go and I plunged from his jaws.

Before I could clear the well's walls even, a lithe shape slipped into view, barreling into my chest and flinging us both far from the watery grave. Thunder bellowed with outrage, but he could not fathom what had even just happened, and his human was calling out to him. He snorted, glaring in our direction, before slowly trotting away.

Upon recovering my senses enough to get up and place my paws upon the solid earth, I discovered that my rescuer was the most striking individual I had ever beheld. She had recovered gracefully from the tackle and glided to a stop beside me, her iquisitous brows raising to question my health. After a garbled confirmation, she flicked her ears approvingly at me and nudged my side before jumping into several short, gliding hops. I followed her, awe-struck and perplexed, until we reached a small enclave at the forest's edge, where Thunder could not follow nor breech into, should his human decide to turn him loose again.

Of course, I asked why such a magnificent, unique creature such as herself was so far from the refined nobility she surely came from, and she explained that her latest target, a food-snatching first, had been tossed into the careless Post human's bags. She had challenged herself to retrieve the goods, no matter how far or long it took her to achieve her goal. She had seen my 'bravery', as she called it, and signaled that was all the sign she had needed to know that I was of worth. She could return for the confection later after all. A lost life, though, could never be returned and she had, as such, decided to save me instead.

She beamed at me, dazzling me with her beauty, and told me to remain, that she would be right back. She bounded away, her skin stretched into a beautiful wind sail, and glided out of the forest and out of sight. Perplexed and confused, although in a pleasant manner, I awaited her return. After some time, I heard a rustling from the leaves and turned to behold the most marvelous sight I had then laid my eyes on.

She had returned, laden down in all her glory by a largest baked good I had ever beheld. She claimed it a 'cookie', though it was nearly half her size, and dropped it before me cheerfully. This had been her target, and now I understood her great fascination and determination to retrieve it. She sat, laying her claws upon its beige surface, and cracked the wondrous thing in half. With a genial smirk, she pulled one half to herself and pushed the other one to me. I gawped. Simple farm hound that I was, I had never tasted such a treat before. When I confessed this, she gave a laughing chirp and pushed the cookie even closer, signaling that I partake of the victory with her. Though bashful, I inclined. Together, we dined upon the sweet victory, both of the cookie itself and the momentary triumph over Thunder and his human.

As we finished, I looked to her. She glanced at me though half-lidded eyes, a coy flash going through them, and with her boundless, unexpected speed, nuzzled up against my face for a moment before pulling away and stretching her limbs. Awestruck, I could only stare as she leapt to a tree trunk and began to clamper her quick way up the tree.

I called to her, asking her of her name and if I would ever see her again, and she gave that chirping laugh again and told me that she would return, that the cookie hadn't been the only sweet she'd found here, and that of course she would be back for another sample as soon as she was able.

Her sweet, she called me. Hers.

And that truth has still remained, even after so much time has passed. She always comes back when she can find the time, a broad cookie between her claws that she has filched from some human back in her territory, bringing it so we may share and partake as we did when we first met. A sweet for her sweet, she says.

And so now, I await her in our hidden grove, awaiting the two blessings that a mongrel like me has never deserved. I wait with my tail wagging brightly behind me and a spring in my steps. Waiting for the return of my precious, my Empress.

Waiting for my sweet.