well I finally decided to do it because I can. < >.< > I MAY add more illustrations at a later time. This tale was half written to explain why Light has such a fascination with frogs, and half for my beloved daughter who LOVES stories as much as Light loves frogs. <3

Edit: And ergh! Sorry for spamming this to the diaries twice, but the blog version needed updating-of-the-illustration-kind since people are actually still reading this here too! < o.o' >

<333 *luffs ye all*
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a fairytale for the Endless Forest as told by Light the Sky

By a sparkling pond in a quiet forest there lived a dove. She was a gentle dove with soft eyes and a lovely voice and she spent her days singing and preening and doing doveish things. This dove loved to fly more than anything else and each day she would sit by her pond in the morning and sing until the sun rose. Then she would fly as high as she could and try and touch its golden light, though of course she could never reach it.

Now in this pond, unknown to the dove, there lived a frog. He was a lovely frog as far as frogs go. He was a perfect shade of slime green and very warty which was just what a good frog ought to be. He loved to swim in the cool dark waters among the bladderwort and sun-dappled stones, but this frog was lonely for you see he also loved the dove.

He would sit in the mornings upon a lily and listen enraptured to the sound of her beautiful songs. Many times he had wished to at least speak to her and once, he had been so filled with joy at her voice that he had tried to join in her song, but to his own ears his voice in comparison to hers was nothing but a horrid croaking and ever after he had chosen to remain silent. He watched the graceful dove soar high in the skies over the pond and adored her from a distance, knowing of course that she would never love him in return for he was just a warty frog and could not fly with her into the sparkling air.

One day as the dove was bathing by the water’s edges however, a terrible thing happened. A sly fox had seen the dove flying and thought to himself, “What a wonderful meal that fat dove would make for me. But she is quick, so I must catch her unaware.”

The hungry fox waited patiently, following the unsuspecting dove until she was at ease and distracted by her bath. Then he began to creep silently closer through the tall grasses, waiting for the moment he could pounce and feast upon his chosen dinner.

Now the frog had been admiring the dove as she splashed and preened while he sat on a lily pad in the sun and warmed himself. From his seat he could see the fox approaching and he realized his precious dove was in danger. To warn her meant he would have to reveal himself and he dreaded what the beautiful dove would think of such a slimy warty frog as he was. Still though, she did not seem to sense the approaching danger and he could not wait another moment.

“Dearest Dove! Fly! FLY!” He croaked at her hoarsely, for remember he had chosen to remain silent so his voice was not used to being heard. It was a raspy croaking that barely rose above the rustle of the breeze, but such an unusual sound that the dove did look up and wonder what it had been.

The fox with his keen ears however, had heard the frog’s warning much better than the dove and he realized he must pounce now or loose his dinner altogether. He rushed forward but the dove having been listening to hear the raspy sound of the frog, heard him coming and in a panic too late tried to take to the air.

The fox snapped at her wings as she lifted to the sky and caught the edge of one in his mouth, pulling her down to the mud. She fought at him with her beak and claws and by luck and chance bit him hard enough on the nose that he let her go. The dove scrambled away towards the water, her torn wing unable to lift her into the air again. The fox, sure of his dinner now, rubbed his bleeding nose on his paw and was slow to start after her. This is the end of me, thought the dove.

Just then the frog sprang up from the water and shouted, “Dearest Dove, I will save you... but you must agree to marry me! For only those of my family may I carry safely into the depths.”



The dove cried out without so much as a thought as the terrible fox approached, “Yes, YES! Please save me!” The frog gave a nod and then snatched the dove up with his webby feet and pulled her under the water and out of the reach of the fox.

(Who by the way, was extremely agitated to have had both his nose pecked, and his dinner lost all in one morning. Ever after he loathed frogs more than ever.)

Down under the water the frog gently carried the dove, with his front legs holding her wings against her and his strong back legs kicking them ever further from the surface.

Am I to drown? The dove thought mournfully as the chilly waters closed around her and the light of the sun became a green sparkle high above her. Yet drown she did not, for the frog’s magic was protecting her.

He carried her to his home beneath a large stone, beautifully draped in slime and bladderwort and lined with smooth stones of beautiful colors.

“You are safe now,” he told her as he set her on his bed of watermoss and leaves. “The fiend will not reach you here.”

The dove sat quietly as the frog tenderly bandaged her bleeding wing, and was surprised at the softness of this strange creature’s touch.

“Thank you, good frog.” She said quietly when he was finished. “Without your help I would surely have died today.” She trembled at the memory of the tearing teeth and wicked red mouth of the fox.

“For you, dearest dove,” said the frog shyly as he backed away. “I would have fought him myself if I could. But remember your promise, for so long as you remain here as my wife no harm will ever come to you here beneath these waters.”

The dove remembered her hasty agreement, but could not now change her mind. “I will remember...” She said softly in reply, and then tucked her head beneath her good wing to hide the tears that came to her eyes. The exhaustion of her trauma let sleep take her quickly.

When the dove awoke the frog was gone, but there was a small pile of seeds and fat red berries nearby that after a moment she supposed must be for her. As the water darkened when the sun left the sky and its light was slowly replaced by the silver shadows of moonlight the dove wondered what would become of her. She mourned to think that she would never see the sky above her again.

She did not see the frog again that night but in the morning there were more seeds and berries nestled in two beautiful lilies at her side. Once she had eaten these the frog timidly returned from his own breakfast and quietly changed the bandage on the dove’s wing.

“I will carry you to see the sun if you would like, dear dove.” He told her upon inspecting her wound. “You will not be able to fly again yet, but I would not see you sad from longing for it... for I know you dearly love the light.”

The dove was surprised by this, but gladly agreed and the frog carried her up and let her rest on a lily pad in the deeper waters, far out of reach of any sly fox. He left her there to rest and preen though he always stayed close by and out of sight to protect her.



As the days went by and dove’s wing healed under the frog’s tender care, she began to realize his attentiveness. He remained quiet and unseen but when she had need of food or tending he was at her side in an instant. If the sun left behind the clouds and it began to rain, he plucked fat leaves from bushes to hold the rain off of her until the sun returned. If the wind grew chill he would arrive with bundles of soft thistle-down to warm her, and when night came he would gently carry her down to the bed among the bladderwort and tuck her into a nest of flower petals.

At first the dove was shy, for she had never had another creature treat her so sweetly. But eventually she began to ask him to stay and speak with her instead of leaving so often and she longed for a way to thank him for his kindness. The frog was hesitant to stay in her company for long, fearing his voice too hash for her soft ears, but when she pleaded that she was lonely he immediately agreed for he could bear her no sorrow.

And so the weeks went by and the dove’s wing healed. In that time she learned much about the frog and began to love the sound of his voice. She found that she did not mind his gentle touch, and felt as happy to see him each morning as she did to see the sun.

When the dove was well enough to sing again she begged the frog to accompany her, and he, in horror of what he was sure would follow agreed if only to please her. In all of his talking to the dove to entertain her however, the frog’s voice had become rich and deep, and the dove was pleased to discover that he knew all of her favorite songs to sing. Their days began to be filled with a beautiful chorus shared between the two.

When the dove could finally stretch her wings again the frog knew he would have to loose his beautiful companion, for much as he loved her, she belonged in the air and he knew that despite her cheerful face she longed for it more than ever.

“Your wing is well again...” the frog told her one morning. “You may fly to the sun if you choose.” He looked away to hide his sorrow, but the dove, now knowing her dear frog better than this could feel it. It was true, she did long for the air and loathed the wet chill of the water but she loved the frog and did not want to see him sad.

“Then I will fly for a while...” she said, and stretched her wings. “And then I will return. For I made a promise to you, my dear frog, and I will not forget it.”

The frog, though his heart soared at her words, watched her as she blissfully flew among the trees and was only the sadder, for here was a place he could not join her and yet did not wish to keep her away from. The dove’s joy of the air however, was short lived for she too missed the company of her beloved frog whenever the sky called her.

“This will not do.” The dove said at last. “For the air calls to me until my heart aches to be away from it, but you cannot be with me when I fly.”

“But the water is cold to your touch,” the frog replied mournfully. “And I cannot leave its side for long or fear to die...”

The dove thought for a long time on this and then finally had a thought. “Perhaps if we go to the Forest Gods,” said she. “Perhaps they will help us find a way.”

So the two traveled to the hill by the pond where the twin stones stood tall and proud and they bowed and pleaded with the Gods to give them hope that they could be together. Their pleas were so earnest and their love for each other so great that the Gods heard their voices and came to see what could be done.

“YOU MAY NOT BE TOGETHER IN BOTH PLACES...” They told the couple. “BUT IF YOU WOULD GIVE OF YOURSELF IN EXCHNAGE, THERE IS A WAY FOR YOU TO LIVE AS ONE.”

The dove desperately offered the Gods her wings in exchange if only they would grant this one wish, for though the call of the air she could not resist, she longed even more for the company of her dearest love.

The frog offered his great webs and water magics in exchange, for though he loved the water’s depths he could not see his precious dove suffer from the cold and misery of an underwater life and wanted always to be with her.

“SLEEP HERE TONIGHT.” The Gods told the two, “FOR IT IS A GREAT THING YOU CHOOSE TO GIVE UP. IF BY THE MORNING YOU STILL WISH THIS TO BE SO, YOUR SACRIFICE WILL BE ACCEPTED.”

The dove and the frog made a nest among the cool ferns and held each other close until the morning came. Their hearts did not waver, for each knew they could never be happy without the other. When they arose with the dawn they found that their old forms had been taken from them. No longer would the dove fly among the trees or the frog swim to the darkest depths but they could now remain together forever and walk the woods without fear or loneliness.

And so the great stag and gentle doe returned each year to sleep at the feet of the Gods and renew their thanks for the gift of each other, and vowed always to remember how precious their love was to them as they walked the Forest as deer.