A Chip N Dale’s Rescue Rangers adventure
based on the story "Little Fangs" by Morgan Kohl

By Justin Reese

“Uh, hey Monty” Dale said quietly as he crept into the RR headquarter’s kitchen “have you seen Foxglove this afternoon?”

“Can’t say that I have, mate,” Monterey replied in a low whisper. “I saw her early this morning, but not lately. ‘Course, me pal Zipper and I have been working on a three cheese souffle for most of the day.”

Just then Zipper appeared, covered in flour and obviously exhausted. He wearily flew up to Monterey’s shoulder, plopped down, and squeaked an affirmative.

“Shh, not so loud pally,” Monterey whispered to his friend (even though his whisper was about three times as loud as Zipper’s usual speaking voice). “You’ll make it fall.”

Zipper looked down sheepishly and squeaked a quiet apology.

Usually, such an exchange would have coaxed a chuckle from Dale. If there was one thing that Monterey Jack loved , it was cheese (sometimes even the mere mention of the word could send him into one of his near legendary “cheese attacks”). Today however, Dale was in no laughing mood. “Oh, okay,” he said, his shoulders slumping a bit. “I guess I’ll go outside and wait for her to get back.”

Seeing his friend’s despondence, Monterey eyed him speculatively. “What’s wrong, mate?” he asked as he walked over and put a large hand on Dale’s shoulder. “For a while there, you two were practically joined at the hip; but now, it’s like you’re never in the same room together.” He stopped and, with a smile, gave Dale a sidelong glance. “You two haven’t had a bit of a lover’s spat, have you?”

“Oh no, nothin’ like that,” Dale said quickly, giving the collar of his Hawaiian shirt a quick tug. “I guess we’ve just been . . . busy, that’s all. Yeah, that’s it.”

Monterey shook his head and chuckled to himself. “Buck up mate,” he said, giving Dale’s shoulder a quick pat. ““Everything’s going to work out all right; you just watch. In fact, why don’t you two take the evening off and go see a movie or something. I’m sure the other Rangers and I can handle the ‘work load’.”

“Gee, thanks for the offer Monty,” Dale said, edging toward the door. “I’ll go find Foxy and tell her right now.” With that, he exited so quickly that he nearly left a fire trail behind him.

Monterey just watched as his friend made his rather hasty retreat. He then shook his head and, with another soft chuckle, said “Ah, young love: there’s no greater thing in the world. . . except for a nice three cheese souffle. Right, Zipper me lad?”

Monterey got no reply though, save for a small snore.

After Dale practically ran headlong from the kitchen, he collapsed on the couch and heaved a great sigh. ‘Now where could she be?’ he thought to himself as he leaned back and closed his eyes. ‘I’ve got to find her soon, or the whole thing’ll be ruined!’ He then, in an effort to calm himself, began to think back over the events that had led up to this important day. . . .

The evening had started off about the same as always: Chip was watching the news, Gadget was tinkering with the Ranger Wing (increasing the overall speed, or something like that), Monty and Zipper were whipping up dinner (cheese chowder, with cheese cake for dessert), and Dale was lying on his bed reading a chipmunk sized copy of ‘Marlfox’ by Brian Jacques (not his usual reading fare, but it was still a neat adventure story. Besides, all the characters were animals too).

He was just about to the part where the heroes were were going to storm the Marlfoxes’ castle when he heard a small knock on the door. “C’mon in, Foxy,” he said cheerfully as he hopped down from his bunk. Before he could cross the small room though, the door opened and Foxglove stepped inside.

“How did you know it was me, Cutie?” Foxglove said with a coy little smile.

“ ‘Cause you’ve got the most beautiful knock I’ve ever heard,” he replied with his usual grin. “Besides, you’re just about the only one who knocks around here. So, what’s up?”

“Well, actually Dale” she said rather hesitantly “do you think there’s any way we would be able to have a little . . . privacy tonight?”

“Well sure, we could always go out to--” he stammered. He then stopped and, after a second, nodded to his beloved. “Yeah, I think that’s doable.” He knew, of course, what type of privacy she was talking about. She was still extremely self-conscious of her “special” heritage, and so still hadn’t told anybody else yet. “Don’t worry about a thing. There’s going to be a ‘Star Trek’ marathon playing tonight, so everybody knows I’m going to be up. I’m sure if we leave the TV on, they won’t suspect a thing.”

“Thanks, Cute Stuff,” Foxglove replied, folding her wings around Dale. “You don’t know how much this means to me.” She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before releasing him and heading for the door. “I guess I’d better go out and do some hunting to tide me over, though. I’ll see you later, darling.” She brushed one wing tip beneath his chin in parting, and headed out the door.

After Foxglove left, Dale began to rummage through the junk that was heaped on his side of the room. After a few minutes of frantic digging, he finally found his quarry: his stash of cocolate bars. “Can’t forget these little guys,” he said as he tossed the bag onto his bunk. Then, humming to himself, he set about the task of preparing for that night.

Later that evening, as Chip was about ready to turn off the TV, Dale came sauntered into the living room juggling his usual load of late night snacks.

“You can leave that on,” Dale said as he sat his stuff on the thread spool that served as an end table. “The marathon’s coming on soon, so I’ll just watch something else until then.”

Chip slowly got up and stretched, glanced at Dale’s pile of snacks food, and regarded his friend with a raised eyebrow and a lopsided grin. “All right, just make sure that you and Foxglove don’t stay up too late. You never know when a new case will pop up.”

Dale jumped a bit and glanced around the room. “Oh no, Foxy’s not here,” he said quickly, a few beads of sweat appearing on his forehead. “I think she went to sleep a while ago. What makes you think she’d be in here?”

Chip just smirked and pointed to Dale’s snacks: a huge bowl of popcorn, some chocolate bars, and two cans of soda.

“Oh, that. Well, that’s just in case I get thirsty later and there aren’t any commercials on,” Dale replied, his nervousness more apparent.

Chip grinned and, with a shake of his head, turned and headed for their shared bedroom. “Just make sure you don’t stay up all night,” he called over his shoulder. “Good night.”

“Okay, we won’t. Good night,” Dale hollered back rather sheepishly. While he didn’t mind openly showing his affection for Foxglove, he still hated being teased about it. Needless to say, it was a near constant form of amusement for the other Rangers: especially Chip. As soon as Chip was out of sight though, Dale quickly put it out of his mind and changed the channel. The last fifteen or so minutes of “an American Werewolf in London” was playing: one of his favorite werewolf movies, besides the old Lon Cheney classics. After looking around to make sure that Foxglove hadn’t arrived yet (she really didn’t like any type of monster movies, which was understandable), he grabbed the bowl of popcorn and sat back to take in this rather rare treat.

At this point in the movie the werewolf had been found out, and the police had chased him into a dark alleyway. the spookiest thing was that, while you could hear him growling and snarling, all you could see of the werewolf was a lurking, shadowy figure. Dale slowly edged forward in his seat as the werewolf's’s wife (or girlfriend; he couldn’t remember at that moment) slowly walked down the alley, trying to reason with him.

Then, just as the werewolf was about to spring out of the shadows, Dale felt a pair of velvety wings drop over his face; and a soft voice said “Hi, Cutie; what are you watching?”

Dale yelped and jumped off the couch; throwing the entire bowl of popcorn in the air. After he spent a few moments trying to will his heartbeat down to a more normal speed, he turned to see Foxglove; covered with popcorn, but wearing a wide smile nonetheless.

“Sorry, Sweetie; I didn’t scare you, did I?” she said with a impish grin. “I told you that those monster movies are bad for you.”

Dale quickly brushed himself off and forced an air of nonchalance. “Nah, that didn’t scare me one bit,” he said, trying to keep his voice from shaking.

Foxglove just giggled and pointed at his hair; most of which was still sticking straight up.

“Okay, so maybe you did scare me a little bit,” He said sheepishly as he tried to pat it back down. He then looked around at the shower of popcorn that had settled around the room. “ I guess I’d better get this cleaned up, before anybody else sees it. Otherwise, I’ll really be in trouble.”

I’ll give you a hand with it; or a wing, as the case may be,” Foxglove said as she walked around the couch. “I seem to be wearing most of it anyway.” She quickly struck a pose like a runway model. “So, what do you think . . . is it me?” They both laughed for a second before setting about cleaning up the mess.

After the popcorn had been cleaned up, the two perched down on the couch and scooched a little closer. By that time, “Star Trek” had come on, and Captain Pike (you gotta love the classics) was trying to battle his way out of a sort of exhibition case while his captors looked on passively.

After a minute, Dale turned his attention away from the TV and looked over at Foxglove. “So, what do you want to do now?” he said.

“Well, we could sit and watch TV for a while,” Foxglove said hesitantly “but if you don’t mind, cute stuff: I am a little hungry.”

For a minute, Dale looked torn between the two. It was almost like you could hear him think ‘Well, it is ‘Star Trek’. . . ’. However, after a moment his face finally relaxed into a smile. “How about if we get you something to eat, and then watch TV?”

Foxglove had to giggle at Dale’s indecision. Somehow, she knew that he’d never be able to give up his shows. All right, Darling; whatever you say.” She then pulled Dale into her wings and began their personal ritual.

Foxglove first gave Dale a huge kiss (not just as a form of painkiller, but also to keep his attention from drifting back to the tube). After Dale was sufficiently “anesthetized”, she finished the kiss and brought her face down to his neck; brushing his face with a wing tip the entire time. She gave his neck a few playful nibbles, and then gently sank her teeth into his skin. After a few minutes, Foxglove finished her meal; but kept her face buried in his fur. When she did finally look up, she saw that Dale had a weird, dreamy look on his face.

“Yoo hoo; Dale,” she whispered as she waved a wing tip in front of his face “are you all right?”

“Aw, is it over already,” he replied in a downcast tone after he came somewhat back to life. “I was hoping that you’d need a little more time.”

Sensing what he meant, Foxglove giggled and gave him a playful shove. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were becoming a bit of a masochist, Cutie.”

Dale gave her a bewildered look and scratched his head. “No I’m not; I’ve never even given anyone so much as a back rub before.”

Foxglove laughed and folded her wings around Dale, making his face split in a huge grin. “Never mind, Cute Stuff. Let’s just watch some TV.” The two then sat back, and were soon lost in the show.

As they lounged on the couch, Dale thought over the events of the past few months. When Foxglove had first told him that she was a vampire (or at least one fourth one); it had scared him half to death. After she set him straight on a few things though, he had offered to become her personal “blood donor”; even though it had still given him the creeps. Now though, they had settled into a comfortable routine; and he found that he enjoyed this time immensely. He liked the idea of helping Foxglove, and he enjoyed the closeness of the act. Their relationship was still low key, but this new development between them had only strengthened their bond. He still saw himself as unworthy of her time and affection (and had told her so on several occasions), but she gave it to him anyway. He, in turn , had gladly reciprocated that love. Now, the two were nearly inseparable. He gave his sweetheart a quick squeeze, and then focused on the TV once again.

After a few minutes of watching TV, Foxglove rose up a bit and looked over at Dale. Um, Dale,” she began hesitantly “I was wondering if you had . . . come to a decision yet?”

“Huh, what decision?” Dale replied, not taking his eyes off the screen for an instant.

“You know, if you want to . . . join me,” she said, a trace of worry creeping into her voice. “I wanted to know if you had decided what you wanted to do yet.”

Hearing the agitated tone of her voice, Dale immediately ripped his attention from the TV and focused on Foxglove. While he couldn’t quite read the expression on her face, it was clear to him that something was really bothering her.
After a few seconds of racking his brain, he finally realized what she was talking about.

When Foxglove had first told Dale that she was a vampire; she told him that one of the side effects was that her life span was roughly twice as long as it normally would have been. This meant that she would live far longer than anyone else, and it always made her feel bad to think that she would have to live half of her life without Dale and the others. That night, Dale had offered to become part vampire himself, so she wouldn’t have to be alone: he just needed a little time to decide whether or not he could handle life as a vampire. he always intended on going through with the transformation; but the more he thought about it, the more it creeped him out.

“Oh yeah, THAT decision,” he said, rubbing his neck (and wincing a bit when he accidentally rubbed his cut). “Well actually, we’ve been so busy lately. . . .” He then looked down at the floor dejectedly. “To be honest, Foxy; I don’t know if I’m ready for that. I mean, what if I go nuts and hurt somebody? I don’t know if I could live with that; you know what I mean?” He sadly raised his eyes back up to Foxglove’s face, and saw the despair plainly stamped on her lovely features.

“Oh no, it’s okay,” he said, bringing her into a tight hug and stroking the hair tuft on the top of her head. “I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. It’s just that I’ve got to work through this stuff before I can really decide. I just need a little more time, that’s all. Please don’t be sad.”

“No, it’s all right,” Foxglove replied in a small voice. “I understand. I had the same fears myself when I found out about my condition. You can have all the time you need.” She then laid her head on his shoulder and began to weep softly

Dale slowly and carefully turned off the TV and sat holding Foxglove until, much later, he finally fell asleep.

The next morning, Dale woke up to find himself alone on the sofa; a small blanket placed carefully over him. “Foxglove?” he said groggily, looking bleary-eyed around the room. In the kitchen, he could clearly hear Monterey fixing breakfast. “Foxy? Where’d you go?”

Thinking that something was wrong, he quickly got off the couch and ran to her room, where he found the door slightly ajar. Foxy, are you in there?” he whispered as he tapped on the jamb. “Are you all right?”

After a few moments, Foxglove opened the door and gave him a weak smile. “Hi Cutie, how are you doing this morning?” she said with a touch of weariness.

Even in the pale morning light, Dale could see that she hadn’t slept last night. Not only that, but there was something. . . missing from her that he couldn’t quite place. It was as if some spark, while not dying completely, had been severely dampened. “I, uh, just wanted to apologize again for last night,” Dale said, looking down at the floor and scuffing one foot. He looked back at her with sad eyes and said “That, and i just wanted to say that I love you with all my heart; and I always will.”

Seeming on the edge of tears, Foxglove swept him into a warm embrace and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “Thank you, Sweetie,” she said softly “and I love you; and always will.”

Dale nearly melted at the words, and lost himself for a minute in her soulful eyes. He could still see a lot of sadness there, but it seemed to be fading a bit. “Hey, do you want to go get some breakfast?” he said after a moment. “It smells like Monty’s fixing cheesy potato pancakes this morning.”

Foxglove released Dale from her hug and gave him a mall smile. “Sure, Cutie; let’s go.”

The next few weeks felt like the beginning of the end to Dale. While he and Foxglove still spent a good deal of time together, he couldn’t quite shake the feeling that she was slowly slipping away. She was still quick with a hug, and her laugh was just as easy and light as always; but there was just something missing in their relationship. If the other Rangers saw anything wrong, they were too polite to mention it to the two.
Dale tried to voice his fears to Foxglove, but every time he shied away from the subject.
Meanwhile, this thing hovered over them like a black cloud that grew a little larger with each passing day. Eventually, even Dale (usually the most chipper of the group) began to grow despondent; often staying up late watching old sci-fi movies to try to break out of his funk.

One evening, while Dale was watching the ‘Sci-Fi’ channel (Gadget had managed to hook into the DSS network a while back; much to Dale’s delight), a strange film called “Highlander” came on. He almost changed the channel, but didn’t really feel like doing much of anything at that moment. Besides, the sound track was reminiscent of Iron Goose, his favorite band. It turned out to be a pretty neat movie: it was about a race of immortals that had been fighting each other for thousands of years for something known as “the Prize”. The coolest thing was that, while the movie was set in the modern era, these guys still fought each other with swords; usually from their own period in history. The movie centered ,though, on a character named Connor MacLeod, a guy born in Scotland about 450 years in the past.

As the movie went on, Connor had flashbacks of the past: how he was mortally wounded in his first battle, and then literally healed overnight. Because of this, the other people of his village saw him as some sort of demon and drove him away.

“Now why would they do something like that?” Dale said to himself. “He’s still the same person inside --.” He stopped suddenly, remembering that Foxglove had told him the same thing on the night that she confessed to being part vampire. As the movie progressed, the ‘cogs’ in Dale’s mind began to turn, and things began to fit into place. “Oh no,” he said to himself “what’ve I done?”

As the movie progressed, Connor married a beautiful young woman named Heather, and gained another immortal named Ramirez as an ally, teacher, and friend. Later on in the movie, Dale got yet another shock: as Connor stayed young, his wife Heather continued to age; until she eventually passed away in her husband’s arms. As Connor declares his undying love for Heather, a single tear rolls down Dale’s furry cheek.

“Oh no, Foxglove,” Dale whispered to himself as he fought to hold back even more tears. “I didn’t want to hurt you or anybody else, but now. . . .” Then, in a flash of inspiration, an idea formed in his mind. The rest of the movie completely forgotten, he feverishly tore through the ‘TV Guide’ and found out that “Highlander” would be on again in a few days. He quickly burned the time into his memory, and then quickly headed off to get the other things for his plan.

When Dale broke out of his reverie, he saw that it was at least late afternoon. “Omigosh!” he yelled as he jumped off the couch. He then ran throughout the headquarters, in case Foxglove had come back. However, after the last room had been checked, Dale was on the edge of a panic. he was about to go outside and wait when Foxglove stepped through the door.

“Foxy!” Dale exclaimed as he ran up, nearly bowling his sweetheart over with a hug. “I was worried about you!”

“Whoa there, Cutie,” Foxglove said as she returned his hug “what’s going on?”

“Oh, I was just wondering if you’d like to watch a movie with me tonight,” he replied, giving her his best goofy grin.

“Gee; I’d love to, Dale,” Foxglove replied, forcing a smile “but I’m not feeling too well, and I've been flying around the park most of the day. . . .”

“Aw, come on . . . please?” Dale pleaded with her, going from happy to sad at nearly super sonic speed. “I was hoping to apologize for avoiding you for the last few days.” He had wanted to keep this as a surprise, and so had been avoiding everybody for the past few days, but he didn’t bother to tell her that. “It’ll be just like old times.”

Foxglove looked reluctant for a few moments, but then gave Dale a coy smile and said “Okay, Cutie; just let me get some sleep first.” She then gave him a peck on the cheek and sauntered down the hallway toward her room.

Later on , the evening found Dale and Foxglove on the couch, quietly taking in the movie. As they watched, Dale tried to keep one eye on Foxglove as well as the movie. At first, she seemed bored with the whole thing, but content to watch it with him. However, after the main character was healed, she began to take notice; visibly wincing as he is driven out of his home.

Dale, for his part, just put his arm around Foxglove’s shoulders and gave her a reassuring squeeze. He knew that she was seeing herself in Connor MacLeod: one of her fears was being vilified by others because of her “special” heritage. However, he had a reason for wanting her to see the film, so he kept his silence.

As the movie played, Foxglove’s expression gradually became sadder (possibly because she knew what was going to happen next); until finally, when Connor’s wife heather passed on, Foxglove turned away from dale and cried.

Dale went to put his paw on Foxglove’s shoulder, but she turned red-rimmed eyes toward him, before he had a chance to touch her.

“Why did you want me to watch this, Dale?” Foxglove said between sobs. “You know that this is my worst fear: the thought of losing you and the others. Why did you want me to go through it again?” She turned away again before he even had a chance to respond.

Dale suffered a terrible moment of deja vu: Foxglove had reacted the same way when he’d shied away from her the night she made her confession. “I’m sorry, Foxy,” he said as he gently turned her back to face him “but I wanted to use this movie to prove a point. When I first saw it, it made me remember what you said to me a while back: you’re the same person that you always were. You can’t help it that you’re a vampire. Anyway, I was afraid that I might hurt you or somebody else if I became part vampire; it kept me from seeing that I’d be hurting you more if I made you act out that scene with me some day. I guess what I’m trying to say is . . . if the offer’s still open . . . .”

Suddenly, a spark appeared in Foxglove’s eyes: one that soon shone brighter than the full moon on a cloudless night. “Yes, Darling,” she said in a soft voice “the offer’s still open.” She then brought a wing to her mouth, but Dale gently stopped her.

“Is there any way that we could do this together?” he said quietly, taking her wings into his paws.

Foxglove simply stared at him for a minute, too stunned to even speak. When she finally found her voice, she said “Sure Sweetie, but why? It won’t weaken me to give you some of my blood, and I don’t really need and blood yet.”

“But it’s been almost a month since you fed off of me--.” Dale stopped, remembering that Foxglove had said something about not feeling well, and flying around all day. “Oh no, Foxy,” he said sadly “you went back to the butcher shop didn’t you?”

Foxglove simply looked down and nodded in mute reply. “I didn’t want you to feel bad by making you dwell on that decision,” she said after a moment. “I know that you don’t want to become a monster like me--.”

“Monster?! Foxy, I never saw you as a monster. You’re the cutest, sweetest person that I know, and I love you. I wouldn’t trade you for all the comic books and chocolate in the world.”

Foxglove had to laugh at that remark. For Dale to say something like that was about the biggest compliment that someone could receive. “All right, Cute Stuff; but I don’t know how--.”

“That’s all right,” Dale said with a smug smile. “I’ve been practicing, and I think I’ve gotten it down pretty good.” He showed her the undersides of his arms, which were covered with tiny band aids.

Foxglove’s heart softened a bit more as she brushed one line of band aids with a wingtip. You didn’t have to go through all that, Dale. I know you wouldn’t have hurt me intentionally.”

Oh, I know,” he replied, looking away shyly “but I wanted this to be . . . you know . . . special.”

It already is, Darling,” Foxglove said softly, taking Dale into her wings and hugging him warmly. “You make everything special.”

After a minute or so, Dale gave Foxglove a speculative look. “Uh, how should we start this?”

“Why don’t you go first,” Foxglove replied, brushing the side of his face with one wing “then I’ll go.”

Nodding solemnly, Dale started with a huge kiss: just the way Foxglove usually did. As he softly brushed her tiny fangs with his tongue, he once again began to worry that he might slip up and hurt his beloved. Foxglove’s enthusiastic return of his kiss caused such doubts to melt away, though. He slowly disengaged and, all the while caressing her face with his fingertips, brought his face down to her neck. For a moment, he simply breathed in the sweet scent of her fur; and then, with a final kiss on her neck, slowly and smoothly bit down.

Foxglove only felt a sharp pinch from Dale’s bite, but the surprise still forced a sharp hiss from her lips. She felt him instantly tense up, but she gently stroked the back of his head and crooned in his ear until he relaxed again. She then lowered her mouth to his neck and repeated the performance that he had just given.

For a few minutes, the two stayed locked in this intimate embrace. Finally, the two looked at each other and kissed, mingling their blood once again. Afterwards, they simply held each other close, enjoying their mutual warmth.

After what seemed like hours to him, Dale slowly came to his senses and untangled himself from foxgloves; still holding her wings in his paws. “Foxy, there’s just one more teensy little favor that I need to ask of you.”

What’s that, Sweetie,” she replied, giving him a wide smile.

Dale quickly glanced at the window and saw that the sun would be rising before too long. The other Rangers would be up soon, so it was now or never. “Foxy, now that I'm like you,” he stammered, not quite knowing where to begin (he had been running on almost pure adrenaline before, and that was long gone). He bonked himself on the head and continued. “Foxy, Sweetheart; now that I’m going to be around for a while longer, I was wondering if you’d make me the happiest chipmunk in the world.” As he said this, he slowly slipped to the floor and got on one knee. He then fished a small box out of his shirt and opened it; revealing a small loop of string with a ring and two tiny foxglove blossoms attached to it. “I guess what I’m trying to say is: Foxglove, will you marry me?”

Foxglove simply looked wide eyed from Dale, to the ring, and back to Dale.

“Uh, I guess if you need more ti--.”

Dale never got to finish his sentence, as he was instantly bowled over by something resembling a furry little cruise missile.

When the two stopped rolling, Foxglove gave her beloved a crushing hug and yelled “Yes, yes, a thousand times yes!”; all the while tears of joy rolling down her face. She would have given him a kiss, but a muffled shout and the sound of several feet hitting the floor brought her up short.

“Come on, let’s get out of here!” Dale whispered as he picked himself up off the floor. He quickly helped his new fiancee to her feet, and the two ran outside; their laughter following them the entire way.

For about an hour the two played hide-and-seek among the branches of the RR headquarter’s tree: not just for the fun of play, but also to give Dale a chance to get used to changes taking place in his body. Already, his senses were a little sharper; and things seemed just a bit brighter. Eventually though, the two went up and sat on their favorite bough; where they settled in to watch the sunrise.

“So, do you think we should tell the others, Sweetie?” Foxglove said rather sleepily as they looked out over the park that surrounded them. Even this early in the morning, humans could be seen going about their business. However, they were few and far between, so the place was peaceful and quiet. She loved coming up here for that reason: if she closed her eyes, she could almost forget that they were in the middle of the city. Instead, it could have been a huge forest; far away from the lights and noise of the human’s world. Of course, as long as she had Dale, she figured that it was perfectly all right.

Dale scratched his head and thought for a minute. “Well, we’ve got to tell them something. I mean, Chip’s going to have to be best man and all--.”

“Dale!” Foxglove yelled with a laugh, playfully elbowing him with one wing “you know what I mean. I guess we can deal with that when the time arrives, though.”

The two gave each other a quick kiss, and then sat arm in wing as they watched the sun slowly peek over the horizon.

The End

(. . . or is it just the beginning?)

Disclaimer: All of the characters (as well as movie and, in the case of ‘Marlfox’, story references) are copyrighted and owned by their respective creators. No direct infringement was intended on my part; as this was simply a fun project for me, and I am making no money whatsoever for its production or publication. Please don’t sue me or anything like that.

Special thanks to: Jaleel (Umen Orlando), for helping me out during the production and posting of this story (my continued thanks to you, my friend); Morgan Kohl, for allowing me to borrow Foxglove’s “unique” heritage from his story “Little Fangs” (thanks again, dude); and all the talented writers and artists who have made a home for themselves at the Foxglove Feature and other sites, for giving continued life to one of the best characters to come out of Disney.

Dedicated to: again, all the people who have contributed to the excellent sites out there; and to my friends (especially Bob, Kim, Leslie, and Doug), for teaching me that even I, “Hogun the Grim” (another copyrighted character, but also a nickname given unto me years ago by a good friend), can drop the “berzerker” shtick and show my sentimental side every once in a while (scary, isn’t it?).

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