Sawtooth Spire the frog king, or iron heinrich

"goodness, phaedra," mahler chuckled as his mouse came to clamber affectionately into his embrace. "you vould starve your brother? but he is cunning," the gargoyle clucked to thade, inviting him into the fold. he himself went over, lying flat against the ground with a flail or two of his plume.
phaedra might find a better use for her teeth here, and perhaps his wily son might discover a greater vantage point for the playfight their father always encouraged.