#Armored Beaver

[sweetarethediscords]

The Maiden of The Barren Rime

Winter Wind blows through the valley, pushes us into our homes.

Pleading she knocks at our windows, scorned she continues to roam.

Chapter 1: The Brambled Beauty

Mina quieted at the sound of unfamiliar voices on the wind.

“Are you sure this is the right cabin?” It was a feminine voice, on the younger side, with a slight Tinian accent, most likely from the North Coast judging from the way they dragged the “er” in “sure.”

“Of course this is the right cabin! It’s the only cabin in this damned forest!” A masculine voice spat back. Staunchly Lanholdian, Mina could almost feel the thick tension in their tongue behind her own teeth. The gravel of age and annoyance ground up from the back of their throat.

Mina picked up her pace, leaping up into the treetops, crossing miles in minutes towards the voices with no more sound than the rustle of wind through pine needles.

She stilled. The branch beneath her feet barely creaked.

They were outside her cabin. A young woman with thick glasses and even thicker curly hair checked the compass in her hand as the short, sturdy man beside her impatiently tapped his foot and picked at the split ends of his long, braided beard.

Mina placed a hand on the hilt of her sword as she watched them through the canopy. The man’s leather armor bore a crest depicting a mountain top and three diamonds, with glinting, well-polished stripes on his pauldron pronouncing his rank. Seven; a general of lauded stature. Why he traveled with the young woman was unclear.

She was clearly not a noble. The slight roll forward of her shoulders, the patterned bandanna holding her hair out of her eyes too weathered or wrinkled for even a disguised royal to wear, and a decent soldier would never keep their guard down as much as hers was in an unfamiliar place. Perhaps she had hired the knight as security on her journey.

A journey Mina would take no part in.

She shifted to sit easily and silently, making sure not to catch the beaver skins hanging from her pack beneath her. A few more minutes and they would leave, then she could prep the skins and start to smoke the meat in her satchel as planned.

“Well,” the woman stuffed her compass into her jacket pocket. “At least it’s a nice day out to wait. Sun’s still warm enough to cut the edge off the autumn chill.”

Annoyingly, she made her way to the porch of Mina’s cabin and took a seat on its rough wooden steps. Mina ground her teeth slightly. Maybe a splinter or two would poke her through her patchwork skirt and urge her away.

The man huffed and kicked at a tuft of crabgrass. “You think this chill has an edge? Just wait until you’re on the Peaks.” The tuft came loose, sending dirt and now homeless pill bugs scattering. “If we ever get to the fucking Peaks.”

Dammit, Mina thought. They were here for an expedition.

“Ya know, we could always go with another alpinist,” the woman offered. “Beto Lamar’s homestead is about a day’s ride west from here.”

“A day’s ride but three weeks past our deadline,” the man said. “This girl can bring us back to Lanholde in under a month.” He stomped over and stood on the steps, too proud to sit, but not proud enough to not lean on the railing for support. “She will get us there in a month.”

“Even if she’s already off on an expedition?”

“She’s not,” the man gestured over his shoulder. “The windows are open. And this cabin is too well maintained for its owner to just head off for two months with the windows left open.”

Mina thudded her head against the tree trunk. Of course. An observant and stubborn knight.

She inhaled deeply, held it, then exhaled, taking her frustration down a little, unclenching her jaw just a touch. She'd piss them off enough that they’d rather stand Lamar’s extra three weeks in the cold than put up with her, and if that didn’t work, ask for a ridiculous amount of gold to scare them off.

Three more weeks in the cold. Three more weeks to die. The unwilling thought made her teeth ache.

She climbed down from the pine she had perched in and moved soundlessly towards the drying rack staked beside her cabin. She removed one of the rungs filled with beaver skins from her pack. A loud and forceful snap echoed through the woods as she dropped it into place.

The trespassing pair jumped. The knight drew his sword as the woman bladed her feet into a wide stance, arms lifted, ready to perform some sort of cast.

So they were a magic wielder and a knight.

“Get off the porch,” Mina stated bluntly as she hung another rack.

Out of the corner of her eye, she watched the knight’s jaw fall agape while the woman’s disposition relaxed. She straightened up out of her fighting stance, and Mina caught the faint sound of a cork squeaking back into a bottle on the wind.

“My apologies, miss. We’re looking for the alpinist that lives here,” she said. “Would that be you?”

“No,” Mina lied. “I’m a hunter. The alpinist lives to the west.”

The woman arched an eyebrow and looked to the knight. He flared his nostrils, puffed out his chest, and stomped over towards her.

“I am Sir Murmir Gargic, general-rank knight of the Lanholde Royal Army, proud servant to King Fritz Reinhardt.”

“Never heard of him,” she lied again.

The knight sputtered, whatever bullshit speech he had prepared dying on his tongue. “You never—”

“Sir Gargic,” the woman whispered behind him, calling his attention and allowing him a moment to regain his composure.

Annoying.

“Well, he’s heard of you, and has specifically recommended that we seek you out to lead us up the Fallow Peaks. We’re in a bit of a time crunch, so if you don’t mind talking terms so we can start the expedition today—”

“If that’s the case, then I guess your king expects you both to die,” Mina droned, mono-toned and matter-of-factly. “I’m a hunter, not an alpinist.”

The knight’s breathing shallowed as her jab at his ruler crawled under his skin. He inhaled deeply, a tirade building, when the woman placed a hand on his shoulder.

“How much would it cost for you to be an alpinist?” she asked.

Mina drifted her dull gaze over towards the woman, finding her with a smirk on her lips and a knowing glint in her eye.

“Seven thousand gilt one way,” she answered. “The real alpinist to the west charges half that.”

“I’m sure.” The woman shrugged. “But the alpinist we’re looking for fits your description exactly. Female alpinist. Rough around the edges. Lives alone in a cabin deep in the Sandere Woods, five hundred paces off of the last bend in Woodgullet Road, heading northeast.” She rattled off the details as if she were reading them off a sheet of paper.

Mina blinked slowly, then repeated. “Seven thousand gilt one way.”

“Deal.”

Gods fucking dammit. An unfortunately familiar tug pulled at her spine.

Sir Gargic fished out a scroll from one of the pouches on his belt, while the woman brandished a quill and a bottle of ink. He scrawled something down on it, then turned the parchment in her direction: a contract of duty.

His thick, stubby finger pointed at the 7,000g written next to the terms of payment. “Seven-thousand gilt to be delivered direct from the Capitol’s treasury upon our safe arrival.” His finger traveled down the page to a long signature line. “All you need to do is sign here.”

She did, reluctantly. Her arm dragged by that damned tug.

“Mina,” the woman read her name aloud, standing on the tips of her toes to watch as she wrote it. “I’m Wera Alrust.”

Mina snapped the quill once she finished, dropped it to the ground, and headed into her cabin.

“Where are you going?” Sir Gargic barked behind her. “You’re under contract to—”

“Packing,” Mina answered. “Can’t climb a ten-thousand-foot cliff face with just a bow, a sword, and a can-do attitude.” She paused in the doorway. “Just two going up?”

“Five,” Wera answered. “Six if you count yourself.”

“I don’t.”

Last-minute trips up the Fallow Peaks were nothing new to Mina, as much as she loathed them. They were always inconvenient and pressing, which meant the travelers were stressed and distracted — which meant the death count was usually higher than the average one or two losses. Expeditions such as this were few and far between, at least. Most travelers knew to prepare well in advance for the perilous journey, contracting her months ahead of time instead of minutes.

She closed all the windows and locked the shutters, made sure her books and sheet music were lifted off the ground in case the fall rains caused the lake to flood, and tucked the more expensive of her instruments away as she filled the pack she kept by the door.

“Flint, whytewing leathers, tarp, rations, climbing axes…” she muttered to herself as she rifled through it — taking stock to make sure she had everything she needed — then picked up a fiddle and bow leaning against a hard wooden chair. She loosened up the strings a bit and unstrung the bow to keep the horse hairs from snapping, then shoved it in with the rest of her gear.

“Where are the other three?” she asked as she stepped back outside and locked the door.

“Back on the road, waiting with the wagon,” Wera replied.

“You can’t take a wagon up a mountain.”

“We don’t plan to.” She was, frustratingly, smiling at Mina when she turned around. “Ready to go?”

“Lead the way.”

Sir Gargic headed off, impatience and frustration bringing out the ill-manner child in him. With such thin skin, it wouldn’t be long before he broke their contract, or he died. Rabbet’s Pass most likely, which would be convenient. She could leave his corpse in the caves there, and they wouldn’t have too far of a walk back to Sandere afterwards.

After only a few wrong turns through the thick wood, the seldom-used road emerged. A simple covered wagon pulled off to the side let the four horses that drove it graze lazily, while two more members of their party hung around it: an old woman with her hair up in a tight bun, sitting on the ground making daisy chains out of dandelions, and a young man with a sharp haircut and a well-coiffed mustache scrawling in a notebook as he sat in the driver’s seat.

Sir Gargic’s spine straightened and chest puffed out as he put on a bit of bravado. “We’ve returned!” he cried, waving grandly.

The old woman and mustached man looked up from their work. The woman abandoned her dandelions and stood to meet them, while the young man looked them over and flipped to another page in his book; quill taking off in a fury.

“Ah! Are you the young lady who will be guiding us?” The old woman smiled sweetly. “My name’s Tanir and the boy on the cart is Enoch.” She turned over her shoulder and hollered, “Wave hello, Enoch!”

Enoch raised his hand partially, too engrossed in whatever he was writing to look away.

“Mina.” Mina met Tanir’s gaze, and the old woman’s brow furrowed. She was looking for the appropriate response, a sign of expression to source Mina’s first impression of her. Mina watched her bottom lip shift subtly, a minuscule pucker as her teeth bit behind it uneased to find nothing.  

Annoy the knight. Unnerve the old woman. Now she just had to find the others’ weaknesses.

“You’ll have to leave the wagon and loose the horses an hour or so up the road. They’ll slow us down and will be hunted by the beasts of the Harrow.”

“Oh, uh—” Tanir swallowed. “That sounds like something you should discuss with Master Windenhofer. I’ll go get him for you.” She flashed another smile, this one fueled by nerves, and hurried off into the back of the wagon.

Enoch snapped his notebook shut and leaned over the side of the driver’s seat. He rested his chin on his hand dramatically, abandoning the fierce focus he held when writing to gaze at Mina with puppy dog eyes. “Did you know you are extremely beautiful for an alpinist?”

Sir Gargic sputtered with embarrassment. Wera shot Enoch a disgusted look.

Mina stared at him blankly.

“I know,” she said after a moment.

Enoch choked on his spit at her response. Wera burst out into a fit of laughter, drawing Mina’s attention.

Laughter wasn’t a response she was used to receiving.

“Don’t forget to write that one down,” Wera wheezed through her giggles. “‘My attempts at flirtation failed tremendously as usual.’ A good archivist doesn’t leave out any details!”

“Enough of that, Enoch!” Sir Gargic snipped, hitting him on the arm. “She comes highly recommended by The Crown of Lanholde, and you will address her with the respect that such a recommendation warrants!”

“S-sorry, M-mina,” Enoch stammered, still caught off guard by her curtness as he leaned back away from her, rubbing his injured arm.

“I hear we have a new face joining our motley crew!” a warm, deep voice cheered from inside the wagon. The cart bounced as a tall, lean man, with a wide smile and a thick shag haircut, stepped out of it, Tanir following behind.

“Hello, I am Sebastian Windenhofer. It is wonderful to meet you!” the man extended his hand out in greeting.

A soft breeze blew between them as Mina considered his outstretched hand. His fingers were long, as to be expected of someone of his height, and his palms were oddly covered with an even layer of callous.

She did not shake it.

“Mina,” she said to the hand, in the same bland manner that she had introduced herself to everyone else.

Sebastian seemed unbothered by his spurned handshake, and instead clasped his hands together and nodded his head softly, “Mina.” There was a slight hum to the ‘M’ as he said it. “Tanir mentioned that you wished to speak to me about something regarding the horses?”

Mina’s distant stare met his attentive gaze. Sebastian didn’t flinch. “You’ll have to leave the wagon and loose the horses an hour or so up the road.”

“Why’s that?” he asked.

“The woods are too thick for a wagon to fit through, and the mountains are too steep,” she answered. “The Harrowed Woods that border Sandere and the Peaks are filled with hungry monsters who will be lured by the thought of a four-course horse meal, too.”

“I see.” Sebastian brought his hand up and tapped his fingertips lightly against his lips as he thought. “Would it be better for the horses if we left the wagon and let them loose now as opposed to when we get closer?”

Mina paused, and tilted her head to the side, caught off guard by his question.

“Have I spoken out of turn?” his voice wavered.

“No, it’s just that I’ve never had someone ask to let the horses out early,” she replied, much more candidly than she intended. She straightened her head, collecting herself. “There’d be less chance of them being attacked. Not many monsters here in these woods.”

“That settles it, then.” Sebastian addressed his crew, “Gather your belongings, we will be continuing on foot from here. Wera and Sir Gargic, unhitch the horses and send them back down the road, please.”

“Ugh, my penmanship gets so poor when we’re walking,” Enoch groaned as he slid down from the driver’s seat.

“Guess you’ll have to save your sonnets for when we’re in Lanholde,” Wera remarked as she started unbuckling one of the horse’s bridles. “We’ve got nothing but walking ahead of us now.”

Sebastian returned his attention to Mina. “It should only take us a few minutes to get packed up. Would you like a cup of tea while you wait?” He reached inside his overcoat and pulled out a tea kettle and mug. Twirling the mug around his finger by its handle, he juggled the kettle with one hand and caught it by its base. Steam rose from its spout.

Not just a magic user. He was a wizard, capable enough to demonstrate his talents so casually.

Or cocky enough to make a big show over the few skills he did have.

“No,” Mina replied, tapping the canteen attached to her belt. “I have a canteen.”

She could have just left it at ‘no’.

“Of course.” He threw the tea set into the air as if he were throwing away a piece of paper over his shoulder and with a snap of his fingers they vanished.

Definitely a show-off.

“I have a few things to pack myself if you’ll excuse me,” he continued, smiling again, still wide as it shifted to a slightly different shape, then headed back into the covered wagon.

Mina watched him walk away.

If he wasn’t just a show-off, then maybe they’d make it a mile past Rabbet’s Pass.

🜁

“So, Mina, would you care to tell us a little about yourself?” Sebastian asked as they walked up the rest of the road. Considering how chatty they were while getting their shit together, Mina didn’t have any hope of a quiet walk to the Harrow’s beginning. “I’m sure there’s much more to you than living in these woods and leading expeditions through the Fallow Peaks.”

“That’s all there is to know,” she replied.

Sebastian chuckled, a rumble out from his chest that buzzed in Mina’s ears. “I’m sure that’s not true. What about ‘how you got started leading expeditions’? Doesn’t seem like a job someone just falls into.”

“It’s not.”

“Then how’d it happen for you?”

“Someone had to do it. So I did it.”

“And what did that entail?”

“Doing it.”

“Sebastian,” Tanir interjected, “perhaps it’d be best if we shared a little bit about ourselves first.” She smiled at Mina. Mina kept her gaze forward, praying that the treeline would take mercy on her and move closer on its own. “I’m the company medic, been working with Sebastian since he had a particularly rough encounter collecting basilisk venom a few summers back. Poor thing hobbled to my home half turned to stone, and insisted I travel with him on his adventures ever since.”

“You faced off against a basilisk?” Enoch piped up from the back of the pack. “When we rest for the evening, you’ll have to sit down with me and give me the full story. You too, Tanir. It should definitely be added to my records.”

“Are you volunteering to go next then, Enoch?” Sebastian asked.

“I— uh—” Enoch jogged up in front of them and turned to walk backwards as he spoke, “Well I met—”

“Don’t walk like that,” Mina interrupted. “If you fall and break something, we’ll have to leave you behind, or I’ll have to kill you.”

His steps slowed as his eyes widened. “Wh-what?”

“It’s quicker than the duskwolves tearing into your flesh and snapping your neck.” It was brutal imagery, but not entirely false.

“She’s kidding, Enoch,” Sebastian said.

Enoch’s voice hollowed. “H-how can you tell?”

“Because if you did break something, Tanir would gladly patch you up,” he reasoned.

“Though I’d give you a scolding while I did it for not listening to the expert,” Tanir added, drawing out the title expert to appease Mina’s non-existent good side. “So turn around and continue your story.”

“Right.” Enoch turned around quickly at her instruction, gathered his composure with a shudder of his shoulders, and turned his head slightly to the side to speak, “I met Sebastian on a truly fate-defining day. Wandering the Coast of Carvons, I was lost, looking for inspiration to strike.”

Wera groaned.

“And it did! As I sat on the beach, begging the great and powerful ocean to lend me some of its majesty, a geyser of sand erupted from underneath of me, sending me skyrocketing through the air. Whilst I fell from the heavens, I looked down at the ground below me. What once was a beach was now a golden temple! And upon the roof of this temple stood the great Sebastian Windenhofer, my new muse! Since that day, I have traveled alongside him, cataloging his adventures to tell the world of his greatness.”

“You know that the rest of us were on top of that temple too, right?” Wera chided before addressing Mina. “Please take his tales with a grain of salt. For an archivist, he seems to have a selective memory. I’m the cartographer. Sebastian was the first person to hire me out of school, and I’ve been traveling with him ever since.”

She looked back at Enoch and snickered, “See? Short, sweet, and to the point. Your turn, Sir Gargic.”

“Indeed.” Somehow, the knight puffed his swollen chest even bigger. “Unlike the rest of my compatriots, I am not under the employ of Master Windenhofer, but rather a liaison of The Crown of Lanholde. They’ve tasked the two of us with uncovering and collecting a few precious artifacts that The Crown has a vested interest in. We are on the last leg of this journey now.”

Everyone’s attention landed on Mina, heavy with expectation, a burdensome weight. They had offered their stories without her agreement. There was no need for her to respond. Responding would only embolden them to keep prying.

Sebastian broke the thick silence and turned to Tanir, “Did you really have to tell the basilisk story, Tani?”

“It’s one of my first and favorite memories of you,” she replied.

“You should’ve waited for winter,” Mina commented, against her better judgment. “Basilisks get sluggish and less alert in the cold. You can sneak up behind them and slice off their heads in one strike if your blade is sharp enough. Just make sure to cut about a foot below their jaw so that you don’t pierce the venom gland.”

Her unexpected advice, matter-of-fact and brutal, garnered shocked and confused expressions from everyone but the wizard. Maybe it was the right call, then. The more alien she seemed, the better off they all would be.

“Aha! You’re a hunter too!” Sebastian — frustratingly — cheered. “I knew there was more to you!”

 If Mina could meaningfully scowl, she would have. The sight of his smile stabbed at the corner of her eye as she kept her gaze forward. Wizards were known to be fascinated by curiously temperamental creatures, of course it would be harder to break him.

“Now, do you have any other comments, questions, concerns for our happy little troop? Perhaps some tips on how to deal with those duskwolves you—”

“You’re all loud,” she stated. “It’ll draw things to us, and cause trouble on the Peaks.”

“Why’s that?” Tanir asked.

“Avalanches.”

“Wait,” Enoch said. “There’s going to be snow on these mountains?”

“What did you think we bought all those cold weather clothes for?” Wera scoffed.

“Lanholde has a cooler climate. I just thought winter wear was the fashion there.”

Wera sent a pleading look Sebastian’s way. “Did you really have to hire him, ‘Bastian? We could have just left him stranded on that beach.”

“True,” Sebastian shrugged, “but we need entertainment on this journey, and watching the two of you bicker could rival some of the best traveling shows.”

As those around Mina talked, and laughed, and teased each other, the surrounding trees grew in number. Their trunks twisted, more gnarled and oddly shaped, their canopy so thick it shifted the shade of the lower leaves lighter from the lack of sunlight. The group came to a halt as the road ended at a wall of forest: the start of the Harrowed Wood.

“Right. Which of you can fight?” Mina asked as she headed to the front of the pack.

All of them raised their hands.

Wera and Sir Gargic she understood but the others… “This isn’t the time for jokes.”

“We wouldn’t have gotten this far if we couldn’t hold our own, lass,” Sir Gargic said. “Trust me, I was wary myself when I first met them, but even Enoch is worthwhile in a scrap.”

“Hey!” Enoch whined.

“Cartographer, you’re with me at the front,” she instructed before they wasted more time chatting. “Medic and Archivist in the center. Wizard and Knight in the back. Listen more than you talk. Keep an eye out for anything moving that shouldn’t be. If you see something, say something. And if something does attack us, no matter what happens, stay behind me.”

Mina didn’t wait for them to finish pairing off before weaving her way through the trees. She didn’t even acknowledge Wera as she hustled to fall in place beside her.

“So,” Wera drawled after a few minutes of silence between them, “why’d you pick me for the front?”

“You’re a mapmaker,” Mina replied. She didn’t look at Wera as she spoke, her stare focused on surveying the forest in front of them. “If you make a map of the Harrow and the Peaks and take down the trail I use, I may never have to lead people through here again.”

If she had to suffer through another expedition, at least she could make this one of use.

“You seem a little young to retire,” Wera remarked. “And you need income to upkeep that cabin of yours, right? Though with seven thousand gilt an expedition, I’m surprised you haven’t gotten yourself something a little sturdier to live in.”

She could feel the pressure of Wera studying her face, looking for something she’d never find.

“There are other ways to make money that don’t involve being bothered.” She changed the subject, “People think that there are just wolves, bears, various small-time magical beasts here. The Harrow is untouched. Nature and magic are uncontrolled and unforgiving.”

“Probably because of the runoff from the Peaks or some past geological event. I’ll make a note to have Enoch look into it.” Wera took out a small notepad and jotted something down. “If that’s the case then I’d bet there are many ways to cross over into parts of Elphyne here too, probably a bunch of fae circles, areas where the veil is thin. Would you be able to point them out when we pass them?”

“Just write down the trail taken and there’s no need to worry about any of that.”

She heard Wera’s pen skip on the page and a heavy exhale out of her nose.

There it was. She hated being talked down to.

Wera abandoned the topic and turned to basic questions about the flora and landmarks, easy enough that Mina could answer with little thought as she tuned one ear to the forest as best she could through the whispers of those walking a little too far behind her.

“Would you look at that,” Sir Gargic remarked, voice slightly muffled and strained. He talked out of the corner of his mouth in a bad attempt to be quiet. “She’s actually talking to Wera.”

“People do often talk to each other,” Sebastian said coolly, not feeding the knight’s judgment.

“Yes, but she’s so—”

“Are we talking about the Brambled Beauty?” Enoch whispered.

“The what?” Sebastian deadpanned.

“You don’t like it, sir? I’m trying to figure out the perfect way to describe such a terrifying and alluring creature.”

“Alluring?” Sir Gargic guffawed, “She’s so cold!”

“Yes! She’s cold!” Tanir added, voice peaking with a burst of realization.

Mina ground her teeth to keep from chewing them out. It was better that they didn’t know how well she could hear, and she had bore much harsher digs than their rude observations anyways.

“Just because she’s different than us doesn’t make her less of a person,” Sebastian chided. “And Tanir it’s unlike you to make assumptions about someone you’ve just met.”

“Oh no, I wasn’t trying to be cruel. I was just—”

A low gurgle deep within the ground, quiet and out of place in the harmony of forest sounds, environmental interrogation, and gossiping whispers, stilled Mina’s stride. She barred her arm across Wera’s chest, stopping the preoccupied cartographer, and held her other hand up to halt those behind them.

Their footfalls and chitchat ceased abruptly. Mina turned her head to the side, putting a finger to her lips to signal them to stay silent and wait.

She drew forth the sword that rested on her hip and crept forward, listening, eyes fixated on the forest floor. The gurgle reached her ears once more, louder and more guttural; hungry. Mina stopped, bladed her feet, and whistled a line of bird song.

“A meadowlark?” Sebastian whispered.

For a fleeting moment, she noted how keen his ear was, then a massive maw erupted out of the earth, lunging at her. Wind at her heels, Mina leaped at it, rocketing towards the toothy mouth at incredible speed, and drove her blade down through its top lip. The beast let out a terrible, gargling roar, shaking off the actual dirt and plants from its mimicking hide to reveal an ornery terramawg.

With the momentum of her jump and the leverage of her impaled sword, Mina vaulted over the bulbous amphibian’s earthen hide. She snapped her hips around, pivoting midair to face the beast’s back, and drew forth her bow in the same fluid motion.

The air stilled as Mina ran her fingers from the grip of her bow to its string. The water in the air collected, crystallized under the brush of her fingertips, forming an arrow of pure ice. She aimed for the creature’s third, slitted eye, a weak point that rested on the nape of its neck, and fired. A roaring gust of wind shook the trees, following in her arrow’s wake as it soared through the air, embedding itself deep into the terramawg’s brain.

Mina kept her focus on the beast as she descended, landing on a nearby tree bough without a glance back. The terramawg seized, the frost from her arrow glaciating its mind, and collapsed into a blubbery heap, returning to the mass of earth and withering foliage it disguised itself as.

Mina secured her bow on her back and slid down the tree’s trunk.

“Keep moving,” she said to the group as she retrieved her sword from the terramawg’s corpse.

It was as if they too had been immobilized by her ice. Sir Gargic’s hand rested on the hilt of his broadsword. Tanir had pulled out a handaxe from somewhere. Three thin daggers were laced between Enoch’s fingers like claws. A swirl of inky liquid hovered over Wera’s palm, while her other hand rested on her chest. Sebastian’s hands were coated in flame.

All of their mouths hung agape.

A dull pang pushed against Mina’s chest at the sight.

“Great Gods. Save some for the rest of us next time, will ya?” Sir Gargic shuddered.

“It was quicker if I handled it,” she stated. “Now come on. There’s more ground to cover before nightfall.” Mina turned on her heels and walked away, stepping across the terramawg’s body and taking care to drive her heels in a little harder as she did so.

“Hey, wait up!” Wera ran after her, manipulating the ink back in its vial and pulling out her notebook once again.“How were you able to tell where it was?”

Tanir pulled a stupefied Enoch along, “Come on. You should be jumping with joy. Action like that is sure to make your book even more exciting.”

“Well,” Sir Gargic remarked to Sebastian with a heavy exhale, “I guess we know why she’s so cold now.”

Sebastian hummed in acknowledgment, nothing more. Nothing until moments later, when under his breath a murmured thought slipped out.

“The wind even changed direction.”

The reverence in his tone, unheard by everyone else, bristled against the back of Mina’s neck.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: I hope you enjoyed the first chapter of The Maiden of the Barren Rime! Thank you so much for taking time out of your day to read it.

To show my appreciation, here's a 50% off discount code you can use when ordering The Maiden of the Barren Rime E-Book off of my website: MBRTUMBLR50

The code expires on May 31st at 11:59pm so make sure to use it or share it with a friend by then!

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My Familiar's Ghost part 56

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ID: 1a. Close up on ghost Guillermo, lit by orange candlelight, as he stares intently at something in front of him. His ghostly light and wraith cloak are flaring out around him, forming the spectral outline of hands that wind around subsequent panels. 1b. Close up of Beaver Nandor, bloody blouse wrapped tied his shoulders, staring blackly back as Guillermo's light creeps into the edges of his panel. 1c. Extreme closeup of Guillermo's eyes tightening - concentration with a desperate edge. The light flares wider. 1d. Extreme closeup of Beaverdor's eyes, blankly reflecting the light. The spectral hands that had been dancing around the panels reach into his now, gripping at either sides of his face.

2. Zoom out to Guillermo sitting in front of the table with Beaverdor as the candle flames suddenly flare straight up. Guillermo's wraith cloak flaps wildly behind his shoulders and his ghostly light swirls and wraps itself around them both. Light surges upwards and expands, memories of Nandor from Guillermo's POV filling the rest of the panel. Nandor flying down from the sky, holding a newly purchased pillow in one hand. Close up of Nandor placing his hand in Guillermo's to step into his coffin. Nandor fiddling his hands together, looking nervous as he sees Guillermo for the first time in a year. Nandor grinning conspiratorially and wagging his finger as they discuss the specifics of the djinn wish. Nandor glancing at Guillermo from the corner of his eye with a small smile. Nandor baring his throat without a hint of distrust as Guillermo ties his cravat. Nandor in his warrior armor, looking away as he expresses affection for Guillermo. Nandor in his Wellness Center outfit, straining against his seatbelt as he wrestles for the steering wheel. Nandor in his wedding attire, smiling gently as he lays Guillermo's jacket over him. Nandor in the attic, hair loose and stripped of all layers but a bathrobe, smiling with a fond shyness. Nandor in 2009, reaching out his hand with a job offer that would change them both forever. Nandor in the back garden, reaching out desperately with that same hand, a tear in his eye, thinking Guillermo was about to disappear.

3. Close up of ghost Guillermo from above on a background swirled with black and blue light. His head snaps back to look toward the ceiling, eyes wide as beams of light shoot out from them and pour upwards from his shoulders.

4. Empty blackness.

5. Empty blackness. /end ID

#wwdits #my familiars ghost #nandermo #mlm #ghost guillermo #guillermo de la cruz #what we do in the shadows #what we do in the shadows fx #my art #fanart #fan comic #image described

[brujahinaskirt]

I love rdr2 for the little things--like how sleeping arrangements over time reflect narrative arcs and interpersonal decay (or bloom).

Just a really quick observation:

The most obvious and important sleeping change, I would argue, involves the Marstons. At the start of the game, John has abandoned and disavowed Abigail & Jack; they sleep on the ground in a flimsy shelter while he, the returning golden boy, sleeps in a bed under a comfortable tent. John's tent arguably affords the most privacy in the game, and this makes sense early on, when he's trying to maintain a distance between himself and everyone around him (especially his family, including Arthur). In Shady Belle, John has welcomed Abigail and Jack into his bedroom, and -- notably -- he sleeps on the floor this time. It's as much a signal of John's growth as a person who is allowing himself to be a little more reachable as it is a sign of his fledgling sense of regret and apology (for abandoning them in the first place), and it is a sign of him warming to the idea of Abigail and Jack as his family. But it doesn't happen all at once; Abigail and John still refuse to sleep beside one another. In the epilogue, as they actively attempt to rebuild their lives together, John and Abigail finally sleep side-by-side as a couple.

I read someone once point out that Uncle transitions from sleeping all over the camp, wherever he happens to pass out, to sleeping directly behind Arthur's tent in Beaver Hollow. This was so cleverly observed. What a powerful sign of the overall degradation of the character of the gang as Uncle (the character most representative of optimism and comfort) begins to fear for his safety and future enough to take physical shelter behind Arthur. What a note of confidence and clarity re: the true person Arthur is beneath the air of danger he has worn like a job title and a suit of armor. (I hunted for that original post to no avail; if it was yours, please let me know so I can link back to it!)

Molly & Dutch and the sliding divide. We start off with a present but muzzled level of friction between these two. Molly sleeps on the only bed in Dutch's lavish tent; Dutch sleeps beside her but... sitting up (haha okay very healthy)... because there's no room for Dutch and Molly. Later, Dutch commandeers the master bedroom at Shady Belle while Molly drunkenly collapses in an isolated place, usually by the kitchen window, blasted with light (see: truth) but far removed from the others, a reflection of her self-isolation and detachment from the gang and anyone who might be able to help her.

Dutch's tent gradually drifts farther away from the center of camp, at its maximum distance in Beaver Hollow. Micah, Cleet, and Joe linger closest to Dutch at this point, noticeably even more so than Javier and Bill.

The slow pull-apart of The Girls. Similar to Molly, after Sean's death, Karen can increasingly be found slumped over drunk in various locations at the periphery, semi-conscious. This is never more apparent than the Beaver Hollow era. Meanwhile, Mary-Beth and Tilly remain sleeping tightly next to one another, not far from Sadie.

God only knows where Micah sleeps.

(Might come back and expand this more later! But that's all she wrote, rushed, for now.)

#rdr2 #redmeta #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan #john marston #dutch van der linde

[phoebepheebsphibs]

Double-Mutated Mikey

Chap 2: Exodus

Continued from the short story written by @boots-with-the-fur-club

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Mikey growls loudly at the creatures as they come close. His marks start to flicker, as if they want to glow bright with his ninpo but can't anymore. Some part of Raph wonders what that means... but currently, he's terrified of what Mikey is going to do.

He's never heard him growl like that.

It's deep and guttural, much lower than Mikey has ever made his voice go.

Mikey suddenly lunges, running on all fours at the army of mutated monsters coming at them.

One creature that looks like it may have once been part wolf tries to swipe at him, but Mikey dodges it and swings his tail at him instead, sweeping out the hind legs and causing it to trip. Mikey's tail suddenly becomes sentient, grabs the hound and swings it like a club, knocking back several mutated animals before tossing the wolf like the world's furriest bowling ball. It slams into a row of oncoming beasts, slowing them down.

Raph can't let Mikey do this alone.

That's not what brothers do.

Not again.

He punches his fists together, creating two large hologram arms, and charges to join the fray.

Mikey is becoming wilder and wilder by the second, his grimace turning into a nasty snarl with sharp fangs beginning to jutt out. His eyes begin getting wider, the red irises glowing brighter and brighter. There are strange spines starting to creep out of his shell, the scales on his arms becoming sharp scutes like armor. Even his whipping tail -- which was much shorter before this crazy thing -- is starting to grow spines on it, the end practically looking like a mace or medieval weapon.

Raph is starting to get scared of his baby brother.

"Mikey! Mikey, you okay?" he asks, as he pushes several mutated raccoons and beavers aside.

Mikey doesn't respond beyond a gravelly low growl as he grabs a mutant badger by the tail and flings it into a wall.

How many animals are there?!

The hall is starting to fill up!

"Mike, we gotta get outta here! I can't hold these guys off for much longer!" he grunted, growing a few extra arms to help ward off the rest. "Plus, I don't wanna hurt em!"

Mikey doesn't seem to hear him as he roars at the hoard. A few creatures start to back away in fright, before what looks like a mix between a boar and a porcupine starts running at them.

"That's our cue!" Raph shouts, grabbing Mikey. The spines and spikes protruding from his shell stab his palms and scrape his arms...

Mikey whirls around and bites Raph hard on the hand.

He yelps as he drops him. There's a mark on his hand, a deep indent. A small puncture wound begins to turn bright red. A tiny flow of blood begins to form just above his thumb.

Raph stares at Mikey.

Mikey glares back, the glow in his eyes bright as the blood on his hand.

"...Mikey...?"

His voice is a whisper. He can't stop shaking.

A moment passes and the glow in Mikey's eyes begins to dissipate, the spikes and spines slowly creeping back into his shell and skin. His tail smoothes out and starts to curl around his feet. His demeanour shifts, from one of a feral animal to a scared kid slowly coming out of a tantrum. He looks at Raph in fear as he realizes what he did. He whimpers, backing away slowly...

"Wait, it's okay! Really, I'm not mad, I --"

The mutant boar reaches them, slamming head-first into Mikey and throwing him into a wall. Mikey grunts with pain, a large crater forming in the drywall where he landed. He gets up quickly, his eyes immediately shifting back to red as he goes to retaliate.

Raphael watches in shock and horror as Mikey grabs the boar by the tusks and rips them out from his jaw. The pig squeals in agony and charges again, two smaller tusks quickly starting to grow back almost instantly.

"MIKEY!!"

"R--aph! Ra-- Come in, do y-- read me--?"

"Leo?!"

Raph looks down at his communicator. He totally forgot about it for a second... Leo and Donnie had been searching the other floors of the facility looking for Mikey, too! He should have let them know he'd found him --

"RAPH! I repeat, Raph, can you hear me?!"

"Yeah!" he shouts back over the screaming behind him. "I read you, Leo!"

"What the heck is all that noise?!"

"Long story short, I found Mikey. We need an escape, like, NOW."

"Donnie's on it," comes a second voice on the comms. "What floor are you on?"

"Five," he responds quickly, ducking from another mutant's attack. "I think we've been made. There were cages filled with animals and they all got released at once!"

"I'm coming now!" Donnie shouts. Raph can hear his hovershell whirr in the background, wind start whipping past the mic as he speeds towards them.

"Leo, where are you?"

"I just came from the basement. You guys will never believe what I found --"

"You can tell us on the way home, but we have to go NOW!!"

For a moment, Raph forgets that he isn't the leader anymore. For a moment, he's in charge and it's all on him to get them out. He's in control of everything and doesn't have to wait on Leo to make a self-sacrificing decision to solve everything like he tends to do.

"Okay, boss man. I'll meet you all outside in the turtle tank."

Raph sighs with relief.

"Got it. Donnie, ETA?"

"Right behind you -- oh what in the name of unholy science is that?!"

Raph turns around to see Donnie slowly coming to a halt, hovering over Mikey. The box turtle has defeated the boar at this point, slamming it hard into a wall until the boar slumped with a groan onto the floor.

"Is... is that Mikey --"

"Donnie, just find us an exit!" Raph shouts as he grabs Mikey, who doesn’t bite him again but struggles against his hold until he sees who's holding him.

"R-right... right... Uh, take a left, that window leads directly to the alley where Leo is waiting..."

The intercom buzzes again.

"What did Donnie say? What's going on with Mikey?!" Leo asks, his voice in a panic.

"Get the tank started, we're coming to you."

"But what about Mikey?!"

"He's here with us."

"Why doesn't he respond--"

Raph crashes through the window before he can answer, landing with a thud against the top of the tank. Mikey howls loudly, whining in fear and scratching at Raph's arms to let him go. He sees Donnie for the first time and makes a feeble chirp.

Donnie stares wide-eyed at him, mouth open and hands trembling.

Raph scrambles into the tank, holding Mikey tightly. Donnie follows after him, silently staring at his baby brother.

"There you guys are!" Leo yells, a wave of relief rushing over him. "I was starting to get really --"

He sees him.

"What... what happened to..."

"Just drive," Raph orders, holding Mikey close. "Just get us out of here."

Leo nods slowly, turning to Donnie. He receives the silent command and navigates the tank, speeding away.

Prev || Next

#rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt mikey #double-mutated mikey #double-mutated #double-mutation #ficlet #short story #tutant meenage neetle teetles #creative writing #short stories #rottmnt fanfiction

[talesfrommedinastation]

My redneck neighbor Doug on 'The Solitary Clone'

Oh boy, a Daddy Warcrimes episode, happy happy joy joy!

Here it is, Doug's review of 'The Solitary Clone' or, as he calls it, 'Daddy Warcrimes Goes To Texas'.

Nothing much to say...enjoy, you lot. Doug liked this episode, but he likes Daddy Warcrimes the same reason I enjoy characters like the Joker and Daemon Targaryen: I AM NEVER BORED.

CW: Daddy Warcrimes do what he do and Doug narrates it. Need I say more? Oh and if you're from Texas, I apologize ahead of time. Doug shreds the Lone Star State something bad in here.

----------------------------------------------------

Oh boy, we arrive at some dry-ass dump. It’s gross and there’s corn and everyone seems a little off. Must be Oklahoma.

Wait, there’s peaky mountains, must be Texas. Didn’t know Texas was in Star Wars but whatever. 

Well, here’s the Empire, but wait! This dump is run by an angry lady with a bucket on her head dressed like a hippie beekeeper. I’ll call her Beekeeper Bitch.

Anywho, looks like Beekeeper Bitch is holding the government officials hostage today, which is what they do for fun in Texas I guess, besides make barbeques and do weird shit at football games. I hate A&M so much. 

Now, here’s Daddy Warcrimes, having a nice nap in what looks to be the broom closet at my job where the junior engineers always end up banging each other at least once a week. I’m surprised there’s no bleach in there. Jeez, Daddy Warcrimes, no blanket?

Poor Daddy Warcrimes, trying to make friends with the other dudes at lunch and no one wants to go near him because he was forced to sleep in the Dirty Shag Closet. At least the clone cafeteria has turkey legs like Ren Faire. I wonder if it’s because Daddy Warcrimes crashes where the younger employees screw each other all day and there’s stains on the walls no one wants to talk about. Oh well. 

Oh, now we gotta see MBA-Rob. No turkey legs for Daddy Warcrimes today. I hate this little asshole, of course he’s dicking around on his stupid assed phone while Daddy Warcrimes waits and fantasizes about killing and smoked meats.

No one will swipe right on you, Rob, you’re unemployed and gave your last girlfriend an itchy crotch. Or is it left? Up and down? How does that thing where you meet ladies work? 

32 rotations…wtf is this Waterworld shit? How come Daddy Warcrimes isn’t burned to a crisp? How did he survive on that dump? Damn, the man must be part roach, I guess, wow. 

Now he’s got his sweet Johnny Cash armor back on, just looking at him makes me wanna watch that western robot show with Ed Harris again. He’s hanging out in front of that script that possessed Linda Blair back in the day. Does Pazuzu exist in this universe?

Oh, shit, it’s Obi-Wan’s Boyfriend! What in the what what. Glad to see he’s still around! Where’s his gold armor? Did he get it after Obi-Wan…you know, that makes me too sad to think about. I’m sorry, Obi-Wan’s Boyfriend, that must have been rough on you. 

Well, looks like he and Daddy Warcrimes are off!  Where? They’re off on a charming romp to squash some rebellion!...wait, is this a good thing or a bad thing? Who are we rooting for? I’m confused. When did Star Wars get confusing? Am I old now?

Ya know who's not confused? Daddy Warcrimes! His job is pointing, shooting, killing. Which, I get, man. I worked in the oil industry. Speaking of which, they’re back in Texas, but where? Are they in Marfa? This looks like one of the shittier towns in West Texas, outside of El Paso. Are they making meth? Is the Empire the DEA? 

You know, this place is quite nice for someone like Daddy Warcrimes. Second amendment respected, the locals spoke in grunt, and smoked meats for everyone! Speaking of Texas, I wonder if there’s a Buc-ee’s inside, and the Empire wants to take over their jerky emporium, and that’s where this mess came from.

I miss Buc-ees, I could go with a hot brisket sandwich and some Beaver nuggets, get some red velvet fudge for later. 

No wonder Daddy Warcrimes is shooting everyone, the man is hungry! 

God, DAMN, Daddy Warcrimes waiting and staying perfectly still while he’s getting shot at and the TANK holy SHIT he is a BAD ASS but a BAD PERSON and I am CONFUSED BUT I LIKE IT? 

("Meat Muffin, you got a doctorate, diagnose me, what is this feeling where I’m confused but happy?"

"It’s just being happy, Doug, and my doctorate is not in psychology.")

And those crap robots are shooting at them again, but are these good guy robots? Didn’t we spend the last few years hating on them? Oh wait, they’re reprogrammed for defense…oh.

Have I ever told you how much I hate those damn things? They look like vacuum cleaners, if someone made art of a vacuum cleaner that they wanted to be human. Non sexy vacuum cleaners.

("Doug, when did you ever think vacuum cleaners were sexy?"

"Never, don’t know what you’re talking about.") 

Why does this feel like an FBI siege? Is this based on Waco? Shit man, I was in the navy when that happened. This ain’t good. This really is Daddy Wacrimes's Texan adventure, isn't it?

But what is good is Daddy Warcrimes and his GUN. Look at those trick shots like the man is yelling ‘SKEET’ and ‘PULL’ like you wouldn’t believe. I bet he’s the type of person who throws a tantrum at the ice cream store because his favorite flavor is ‘bullets’ and it ain’t on the menu.

Look at him and Obi-Wan’s boyfriend just going up and killing robots left and right. He ain’t good, but that ain’t bad. Which is…good or bad? Ah, whatever, I like this damn show. 

And there’s Beekeeper Bitch bitching at the Empire’s Bitch. Those couches look comfy. 

Daddy Warcrimes is coming your way! When she’s not wearing her helmet, Beekeeper Bitch looks just like my niece! Wow! Oh, now I don’t know, is she bad? Good? She wants independence for her people, maybe Obi-Wan’s Boyfriend and Daddy Warcrimes can listen to her? 

Oh, shut up, Empire Bitch, no one cares. ‘Execute her’ uh shut up, your hat sucks and don’t you know that Obi-Wan’s Boyfriend is a free-thinking MAN who might just up and take a DUMP on your LAWN. 

Well, no. Damn, Daddy Warcrimes, you cold-assed sonofabitch. 

‘Hang her body in the square’, what in the hell, this is dark, Dr Meat Muffin, are you letting your sweet girls watch this show? One of them’s a baby, I hope not. 

(I was 100% watching this with my 2 year old, it was on Disney, what do you expect- Dr. MM)

Welp, Daddy Warcrimes is back where he started, chilling in the cafeteria and his new best friend is his helmet. Wonderful. The helmet will at least make eye contact with him. 

Back to MBA-Rob being a dick to everyone and now Obi-Wan’s Boyfriend has run off. Probably to drink himself into a stupor and cry in a shower somewhere. I know I would, too.  

We really didn’t learn anything in this episode, did we? Well, I learned that Daddy Warcrimes is living a confusing life, never gets to eat and has to sleep in the Dirty Shag Closet. But at least he's got his helmet and his gun and MBA-Rob.

I know he’s bad, but he’s good at that, which is bad…but for me, it’s good?

#tbb #cloneforce99 #thebadbatch #the bad batch #clone force 99 #doug talks star wars #doug the neighbor #doug why #cajun doug #cajun neighbor #daddy warcrimes #obi wans boyfriend #the solitary clone #bad batch crosshair #crosshair #tbb crosshair #commander cody #cody tcw #cody tbb #the bad batch crosshair #star wars review

[cboffshore]

with very little respect to that one feral Chima-purity-defender: here's that thing I was talking about the other day I now formally present THE SLOG THEORY.

obviously, this is STUPID rough. In order to make this way more accurate, I'd have to know how many normal days each season of Chima and Ninjago takes, which... not happening. I ain't doing that. This is very heavily rounded and largely for illustrative purposes.

(@ghostwalloper said I was cooking. It's dinnertime, pal.)

The original joke was that, since Chima is such a pain in the ass to watch and feels like it takes forever, obviously time in that realm must be WAY slower than in Ninjago, and only equalizes when The Merge happens and throws everything into a blender. Hence the name Slog Theory. I'm building on the time slowness thing here, because it's FUNNY. I could be entirely wrong - maybe everything in Chima happens in the span of five Ninjago minutes during the first season and they're just sitting around for the rest of the time.

Reading the chart: Blue side is Chima, with season chunks numbered. Red is Ninjago. Please note that the Ninjago season numbers are off to the side, ABOVE their related chunk, due to space. The purple V shape is when the Merge happens well after the end of N15. I drew this on my phone over breakfast, okay? Don't come at me for that. With that being said, I kept all of the time chunks on each side approximately the same just for ease of drawing, because - once again, for the people in the back - there is no way I am going back and doing the math to figure out exactly how many regular days each season takes. That's impossible. There are clues, sure, but WAY too many cuts. Just roll with it, please.

See those green zones on the blue Chima side? Those are our KEY POINTS. There are three, each correlating to some spot on the Ninjago side. They are:

The infamous Possession cameo. My brief research shows that this is an edited scene from EP 15 of C1, which leaves us two possibilities: either the cameo scene with Lloyd and Morro present is canon to BOTH sides, or history repeated itself on the Chima side after the original Eris/other bird iteration, and they all went to hang out on that hill again, hoping to see another fight. And boy did they deliver! Besides that scene EXPLICITLY being an edited version of one from C1, we also know that character lineup is consistent with C1.

The Beaver Portal thing from the second have of N11. It's trickier to place this in the Chima timeline because it doesn't have any of the main characters involved to indicate what season it happens in via armor or lineup, so I just let it fall where it may, which loosely suggests it happens somewhere off to the side between C2 and C3.

The final cliffhanger shot. Following with the time line I've already established with the other cameos, approximately 4-5 seasons have passed since the last one, which puts this after the end of N15 - right around where the Merge would kick off DR. Which would explain why we never see the Chima characters go have adventures down there - reality gets shredded first! Like, right after that shot!

Anyway! It's ultimately all pretty pointless - we're over here fighting over a toy commercial, after all - but I thought that drawing and writing it out a little more thoroughly helped me out, so I hope it helps you all, too.

#lila speaks #ninjago #legends of chima #Ninjago dragons rising spoilers #analysis freak lila back on her bullshit

[bethanythebogwitch]

Wet Beast Wednesday: beavers

I love rodents; they're my favorite mammals. So today I'm combining rodents with the usual Wet Beast Wednesday to talk about beavers. These rodents are not only amphibious, they're engineers that play a major role in their ecosystems. Let's find out why you should appreciate beavers.

(Image ID: a beaver standing on dirt. It is a rotund, furry mammal with a large, blunt head. Its legs and eyes are small. Its tail is wide, flat, and hairless. It is wet. End ID)

There are two species of beaver: the North American beaver Castor canadensis and Eurasian beaver Castor fiber. The two species are so similar to each other in morphology and behavior that it took genetic testing to confirm that they are distinct species. Each species is divided into many subspecies, with a classified 25 for the North American beaver and 9 for the Eurasian beaver. Beavers are the second largest living rodents after the capybara. Adults have a body length of 80-120 cm (31-47 in), tail length of 25-50 cm (9.8-19.7 in) and usually weigh between 11 and 30 kg (24-66 lbs) but can reach up to 50 kg (110 lbs). Beavers are semiaquatic and have multiple adaptations for living in the water. The hind legs have webbed toes and are used to provide propulsion while swimming. The wide, flat, paddle-like tail is used as a rudder. Beaver fur is very thick, with 12,000 to 23,000 hairs per square centimeter and grows in multiple layers. The hair keeps the beaver warm and provides buoyancy while being thick enough to act as armor, protecting the beaver from predators. Beavers can hold their breath for up to 15 minutes, but most dives are shorter than that. While underwater, the beaver's heart rate is halved and blood is redirected to the brain and away from the extremities. The ears and nostrils can close underwater and the mouth can form a watertight seal. Being highly adapted for swimming, beavers are somewhat clumsy on land, but they can still move fast if needed. The front feet are very dextrous and can carry objects. Beavers can stand and move on their hind legs while holding things with their front feet. The tail helps provide stability while standing up. Like other rodents, beavers have an upper and lower pair of incisors that grow for their entire lives. The teeth need to be worn down by gnawing on objects and a beaver that can't gnaw can suffer from health problems as their incisors grow too big. Beaver teeth are coated with a layer of enamel that contains iron compounds, giving the incisors a characteristic orange color. The teeth grow outside the mouth and the beaver can close its lips while moving the teeth, letting it chew or pick thing up with its teeth underwater without getting water in its mouth. Unlike other rodents and pretty much every mammal, the beaver's excretory and reproductive tracts are merged into a single hole called the cloaca. Cloacas are common in reptiles, amphibians, etc, but having separate holes is a kay mammal trait. Beavers must have evolved back into having a cloaca. One hypothesis for why is that having a single hole reduced the surface area that can be exposed to the water, reducing the chance of infection. Males have a penis that extends from the cloaca when in use. Because of this, male and female beavers are virtually indistinguishable by sight if the penis is retracted. Staying downstairs, beavers have two sets of scent glands, anal glands and castor sacs. Both are used to produce scent chemicals that are used by beavers to mark their territory and identify each other. The anal glands also produce an oily substances that beaver groom into their fur to help waterproof it. The castor sacs produce a substance called castoreum and are attached to the urethra. Ancient people often thought that the castor sacs were testicles and that female beavers were actually hermaphrodites.

(Image ID: a beaver seen from the front on some rocks by the water's edge. It is dragging a long log in its mouth. Its top incisors are visible and orange. End ID)

The North American beaver is found in most of Canada and the United States, as well as northern Mexico while the Eurasian beaver's natural range has been considerably reduced from what it once was. They now live in portions of western, central, and eastern Europe, west Russia, and Scandinavia, with isolated populations in Mongolia and northwest China. Beavers live in freshwater (and occasionally brackish water) streams and lakes. They are nocturnal and crepuscular, active most commonly between dusk and dawn. Beavers are generalist herbivores, eating a variety of leaves, stems, shoots, roots, and bark. They prefer herby food in summer and woody food in winter. Beavers form stores of food underwater for the winter. Their digestive systems have an enlarged portion of the intestine called a caecum that helps digest the cellulose form all the plants and wood they eat. Their feces has been reported to have sawdust in it. Beavers are territorial and mark their territory with smell using secretions from their anal and castor glands that are placed onto piles of rock and mud they build. beavers defend their territories fiercely and will get into fights with others trying to move into their territory. Beavers who live in neighboring territories will gradually grow less aggressive toward each other and they become used to each other's scent. This is called the dear enemy effect and is seen in other territorial species. Beavers communicate using a variety of noises including whines and growls. A common behavior is slapping the tail against the surface of the water, which is used to alert other beavers to danger.

(Image ID: a beaver swimming underwater. Its body is strengthened out and streamlines. Its front legs are tucked under its chin. The hind legs are being used for swimming. The tail is out of frame. There are rocks and logs in the background. End ID)

Beavers require deep and still water to build their homes, but they aren't satisfied just looking for lakes to live in. No, these little entrepreneurs will make the conditions they need by damming streams. I will devote a whole section below to beaver damming and its impacts on the environment. Aside from dams, beavers also build lodges, which are their homes. Building these structures requires material and beavers use wood, mud, and rocks. To get the wood, they use their incisors and powerful teeth to chew through trees and branches. Famously, a beaver can take down a large tree in under a day. Lodges take a while to build, and until it is ready, beavers live in simple burrows on the water's edge. There are two types of lodges: bank lodges and open-water lodges. Bank lodges are burrows along the water's edge covered in sticks and are more common with Eurasian beavers. The more famous open-water lodges are built away from the shore. A pile of sticks forms a platform that is covered with a dome. The dome reaches above the water and is made of sticks and rocks held together with mud. Inside the dome but above the water is an open cavity filled with air. This is called the living space and is (as the name suggests) where the beavers live. The only above-water opening in the living space is an air hole built in the very top. The other entrances are underwater, meaning that beavers can only enter and leave by swimming. This provides good protection from predators, most of whom wouldn't be able to swim into the living space, as wells as insulation to keep the living space warm in winter. Beavers live in familial groups usually consisting of a pair of parents and up to eight children. Family members use the scent of their anal glands to identify each other and will body through grooming each other and play-fighting. The parents are monogamous, but will seek out new mates if they lose theirs. Mating occurs in late December to mid January when the female goes into heat. Up to four pups are born three to four months later. Beavers are born furry and with open eyes and can digest solid food after a week, but usually nurse for up to three months. Beaver milk is more fatty than the milk of other rodents. Beaver offspring will stay with their parents for two years before becoming independent and a family can have two generations of offspring at a time. The largest families need to build multiple lodges. The offspring, called kits, will stay in the lodge for their first one to two months and will start assisting the family with construction of dams and lodges at a year old. They reach sexual maturity between one and three years of age and can live for up to ten years in the wild. Beavers that become independent will travel away from their parent's pond to find a new stream or pond to settle in. This is the time most beavers meet their future mates and the pair will travel together in search of their new home. Beavers will stay in the same territory unless poor conditions force them to leave and find a new home.

(Image ID: A beaver in the Minnesota Zoo with four kits. They are in an artifical lodge with stone walls and star and sticks on the ground. The kits are miniature versions of the adult. End ID.)

(Image ID: an artistic depiction of a beaver lodge with a cutaway to show the interior. It is a large pile of branches with a chamber inside partly submerged in the water. The chamber is connected to the outside by two tunnels the open underwater. There are two adult beavers outside the lodge and three juveniles inside. End ID. Source)

The most famous feature of beaver behavior is their dams. By damming streams, beavers create the large and still ponds they need to build their dams. Beavers that live in pre-existing ponds or lakes that are deep enough for their lodge entrances to be underwater don't need to build dams. To start, thy will dig canals to reduce the flow of the stream, then drive large logs and branches into the mud of the stream bottom to form a base. The dam is then filled in with rocks, branches, shrubs, mud, and anything else the beaver can get its paws on. Beavers can pull or carry objects up to their weight and will build canals and use mud slicks to pull larger logs. Dam complexes can cover acres of territory and the canals beavers dig dig to divert water and help move logs around can be over half a kilometer (1,600 ft) long. The largest dam in the world is in Alberta, Canada's Wood Buffalo National Park and is 775 meters (2,543 ft) long and growing. It was formed of different dams that were combined. Beavers are one of the best examples of ecosystem engineers, species that modify their habitats. They are also a keystone species that are vital in wetland areas of their native range. Dams expand wetlands and reshape the stream environment in ways that typically benefit the local ecosystem. There are some negative impact of beaver dams, including impeding fish migration, increasing silt upstream of the dam, low oxygen levels in the created ponds, and harming species that require fast flowing water. However, the positive impacts of the dams are many and varied. The dams create new ponds that provide habitat for many species that require deeper or slower water, including many aquatic insect larvae, worms, and mussels. These ponds are also ideal spawning locations for many fish and amphibian species, especially salmon and trout that can leap over the dams. Indeed, beaver dams are a huge boon to salmon spawning. The ponds also raise the local water tables and help prevent drought. The areas in and around ponds see a large increase in plant species diversity that encourages local grazing animals and migratory species to visit. Because the areas around beaver ponds are so wet, they act as natural fire breaks, helping mitigate the damage from fires. The dams also help prevent floods downstream by slowing the amount of water that passes, thus helping prevent erosion. The dams act like sieves, filtering out silt, debris, excess nitrogen, and pesticides and other chemicals that get into the water. Bacteria living in the dams break down cellulose in plant matter and release nitrogen gas into the atmosphere. On the downside, beavers have been extending their range north as the arctic warms and their ponds are melting permafrost, which releases methane into the atmosphere.

(Image ID: a beaver in a forest environment gnawing a tree. The tree trunk is slightly thicker around than the beaver. The Beaver is chewing at one side of the tree while the other side is already chewed, resulting in an hourglass shape. End ID)

(Image ID: two beavers sitting on top of their dam and working on building it. One beaver is gnawing on a log while the other one is carrying a bundle of roots in its mouth. End ID)

(Image ID: a beaver dam seen from above. The dam is a large pile of sticks, longs, rocks, and mud that stretches across a stream. The water level on one side of the dam is significantly higher than on the other side. End ID.)

Both species of beaver as currently classified as Least Concern by the IUCN, meaning they are not at risk of extinction. This was not always the case. Beavers have historically been heavily trapped for their meat, fur, and castoreum. The castoreum was used in many forms of medicine. Nowadays it isn't used anymore except in homeopathy and other forms of quackery. The fur trade vastly reduced beaver populations and it was only due to new laws and conservation efforts that the two species were saved from extinction. Since then conservation efforts have largely revolved around trapping beavers and reintroducing them to new areas. Probably the most famous example of this is the 1948 beaver drop, when the Idaho Department of Fish and Game dropped beavers in crates from planes, where they parachuted to the ground and were released. Despite how silly this sounds, it had a much higher survival rate than other relocation methods. Only one of the 76 beavers died due to forcing its way out of the crate during the drop and falling to its death. Beavers can damage infrastructure by damming streams near human activity and can damage trees people want to keep alive. There are ways of mitigating this. Pipes can be used to keep the water levels of the ponds from getting too high and fences or other deterrents around trees keep the beavers from cutting them down. If the beavers are causing too much of a problem, trapping and relocating them can help. On the other hand, sometimes environmental managers trying to attract beavers will make artificial beaver dams to try to entice beavers to adopt a stream. This is sometimes done in streams with too much erosion or water that flows too fast for beavers to settle. The artificial dams start the work and set things up for beavers either relocated to the stream or that pass by and settle down. Beavers are used as symbols of hard work, industry, and families. The beaver is the national animal of Canada. If Canada appreciates the beaver, shouldn't you too?

(Image ID: a group of three beavers being released from a crate. End ID)

(Video ID: archive footage of the 1948 beaver drop. End ID)

#wet beast wednesday #beaver #rodent #mammal #beaver dam #beaver lodge #biology #zoology #ecology #freshwater ecology #animal facts #long post #educational #image described #Youtube

[tf2-incorrect-quotes]

MY TF2 FURRY HEADCANONS 💥💥[LONG POST]

NOTE: PLEASE BEAR IN MIND THAT IN CANON THESE ARE A BUNCH OF GROWN MEN IN THE 60S AND NATURALLY THIS WILL HAVE SOME LEVEL OF OOC CONTENT. HOWEVER TRUST MY BEAUTIFUL MIND. I WILL GROW SOMETHING GOOD IN THIS GARDEN. THE DIFFERING COLORS ARE FOR LEGIBILITY AND NOT TO SHOW WHAT TEAM.

SOLDIER : soldier does not know what a furry is. he has a fursuit. he calls it his battle armor. its awful. it reeks. its handmade. possibly made using real fur. hes infamous at every con in the country. hes banned at the one in teufort. he uses his suit to blend in with the other con-attendees because he thinks they are actual, real anthropomorphic animals. he identifies heavily with his fursona and draws it frequently. PYRO : pyro SCOUT : hates them with a passion but if you ask him why he just says 'i dunno.. i just think its kinda weird'. probably out of some desperation for peer approval. but also at the same time itd be really funny if he just didnt care. pick your poison DEMO : demo is like "aye thats a wee bit odd" and then gets in an argument with scout about what his fursona would be because scout is like "with your halloween costumes i thought youd love being drawn as a hyena" (its a maned fox) and then he gives a long drunken (argument goes on for a long time) speech about why hed be . like. a cu-sith or something. ('those things aint even real' 'yes they fuckin are mate ive seen one with me own eye') . if he actually saw someone in a fursuit depending on sobriety and their sona he either wouldnt really care because people can have hobbies or he would start acting buddy buddy because he mistook it for the wulver HEAVY : heavy doesnt really care for that kinda stuff. doesnt see the point in wearing animal suits unless you are camoflaging among the bears in the siberian wilderness in order to get their meat without gaining the attention of the mother. pyro draws him a fursona once and hes like . mm. good. because bears are large and honorable creatures. SNIPER : sniper is a man who lives alone in a camper van whos job is sitting still all day. he would be a furry. see my vision boy. itd be some weird animal too like a reptile or something. he wouldnt be loud and proud about it. he dreams scout finds out in the way a bully finds out about the protagonists dark secret in a high school drama movie and then tells everyone else and then they kill him with hammers and he wakes up in a cold sweat. ENGINEER : engie doesnt bash it because hes glad folks have their hobbies and he can admire the creative skill and ability of the community. pyro draws him as a beaver sometimes (non anthropomorphic, just a beaver with a hardhat, goggles and overalls) and he doesnt mind and it starts becoming his favourite animal because of that. i dont think he'd ever really directly identify with the community though. probably calls them 'furbies' from time to time because he forgets the word. SPY : spy thinks theyre all degenerate freaks and is happy to loudly claim this. he has several incredibly expensive suits and attends cons frequently. hes been here for years. he tries to sneak around it and deny anything to do with them but the team Knows. they all know. MEDIC : i honestly didnt know for him. other mod suggested he has an awful flesh homunculus fursuit that lives and breathes on its own. you crawl inside and its sticky and wet and warm and pulses. doesnt even have anything to do with the subculture.

#I WAS THINKING ABOUT USING THIS BLOG FOR THINGS LIKE THIS FOR A WHILE NOW #ALSO THE OTHER MOD HAS BEEN DOING LIKE #ALL THE INCORRECT QUOTES AND I FEEL BAD I NEED TO CONTRIBUTE #mod soldier #tf2 #tf2 soldier #tf2 demoman #tf2 scout #tf2 spy #tf2 medic #tf2 pyro #tf2 sniper #tf2 heavy #tf2 engineer #team fortress 2 #ITS INCREASINGLY OBVIOUS WHO IM INSANE ABOUT BY THIS POST ALONE #IF YOU HAVE ANY IDEAS FEEL FREE TO ADD THEM #I LOVE YOU #long post #tf2 headcanons

[cosmonewtmarstherealityshifter]

🧚‍♂️✨🌿🍂🍄Magical Forest DR Script🍄🍂🌿✨🧚‍♂️

{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{ • }}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

• [ First Name: Cosmo ] • • [ Middle Name: None ] • • [ Last Name: None ] • • [ Species: Fairy ] • • [ Age: 120 ] •

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

• [ Pronouns: He/It/Xe/They ] • • [ Gender Identity: Genderfluid Genderflux Enby TransGuy ] • • [ Romantic Orientation: Aromantic ] • • [ Sexual Orientation: Myrsexual (Neurosexual, Nebulasexual, and Merosexual) ] • • [ Other Orientation(s): Ambiamorous; Homoalterous; Omniqueerplatonic; Panexteramo; Pansensual; Panaesthetic ] •

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

• [ Parent(s): None ] • • [ Sibling(s): None ] • • [ Other Family Member(s): None ] • • [ Partner(s): Darcy ] • • [ Best Friend(s): None ] • • [ Friend(s): Everyone ] •

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

• [ Description: Human-sized fairy; 7’0”; Dark brown horns that curve downwards; Huge wings that look like luna moth wings; Pale fair skin; Clear skin; Oval face; Lean, masculine/muscular body; Brown eyes; Round spectacles; Pointed ears; Top and bottom surgery scars ] • • [ Style: Shirts and trousers made of silks spun by Fire Spiders and leaves woven by beavers; Silver, casual armor pieces made by Centaurs; Necklaces, earrings, and rings made of stars and the finest jewels, gifted to me by the Centaurs and Dwarves; A necklace of a half moon ] • • [ Personality: Same as in my CR ] • • [ Abilities (natural and learned): Elemental Manipulation; Potion-making; Antidote-making ] •

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

• [ Personal Items: Several Potions for wounds, stomachaches, headaches, and other illnesses; A small painting of Darcy ] • • [ Extra: Hate does not exist; War does not exist; Humans do not exist; Everything is 100% peaceful and harmonious; There are no enemies; Every magical being is immortal; I am immortal; No one dies; There is nothing to give anybody, myself included, any type of emotional, verbal, physical, or psychological trauma; Darcy and I both are expert climbers and know how to make medicinal potions; Darcy and I both speak every language and can communicate with animals; There is no such thing as transphobia, homophobia, acephobia, arophobia, queerphobia, sexism, racism, etc.; Darcy and I both cannot and do not grow bored of being in the forest, although we can become bored; Darcy and I both know how to weave baskets, bracelets, and necklace cords; Darcy and mine’s wings glow in the dark; Darcy and I can’t get bug bites, poison ivy, poison oak, etc.; It never gets too hot, but every plant, flower, tree, etc. that needs hot weather in CR can survive and thrive without that heat in this DR; Nothing dies or goes away and can thrive and strive when winter comes; All wildlife are friendly to Darcy and I ] •

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

• [ Our Place (Mine’s and Darcy’s) ] •

Darcy and I live in a gigantic tree. It’s not by the ground, but a little more than half way up. There is one bed, a side table, a couch, a “kitchen”, and an art area. The furniture is made from sturdy branches and vines, and moss and leaves as cushioning. Nothing rots. Darcy hung up tons of strings of dried glowing mushrooms, so there’s always light in there. There’s also tons of glass jars of immortal fireflies, too, so that adds light. Plus, we also have a few giant luminous mushrooms growing in there, either from the walls or in pots. We have several plants in pots all over, most of them sitting on the sturdy mushroom caps growing from the walls. It’s covered in moss and ferns, and we have to trim it often. The art area is a small corner that is splattered with paint and pollen. The paint is made from ground leaves, petals, and roots. Darcy mostly makes the paint since it’s his expertise. We have lots of shelves that we nailed into the walls using some handmade nails made by the Dwarves. We keep dried foods, canned foods (in jars), and our knickknacks on them, as well as the natural luminous mushrooms that grow out of the walls everywhere. 

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

• [ Magical Beings That Live In The Forest ] •

• [ Wood Nymphs: ancient, beautiful and youthful tree women, who keep the forest flourishing and who like to dance with the Fauns ] •

• [ Fauns: half human, half goat people, who enjoy playing musical instruments such as flutes and harps, and dancing around bonfires at night, and collecting honey and berries ] •

• [ Centaurs: half human, half horse beings who are incredibly intelligent and are master astronomers ] •

• [ Dwarves: short fat people, who always have beards, and are very good with gems and mining ] •

• [ Fairies: small to human-sized horned and winged beings who are known to be mischievous and are expert climbers and potion masters ] •

• [ Giants: gigantic people who live in caves or under particularly large trees and by very large pools of water, they are incredibly good at fishing and are very friendly ] •

• [ Orphinki (an original creature made by me!!!): small beautiful dragon-like creatures who are usually wise and live in hammocks in most trees ] •

• [ Dragons: giant lizard-like creatures with wings and venomous spit, they are gorgeous and shiny and sweet and nice and are known to be lovable and gentle to all ] •

• [ Water Nymphs: ancient, beautiful elegant water women who love to dance with the water fairies and spirits ] •

• [ The Four Spirits: water, fire, earth, and wind are the four spirits, and they’re friendly little curious things that are everywhere and nowhere at the same time, sometimes they transform into a specific form, but most times they are simply there in the water or in the fire or in the ground or in the wind ] •

• [ Griffins: half bird, half lion beings that love swooping around under the trees and herding flocks of birds ] •

• [ Mermaids: half human, half fish people who live in the many pools in the forest, they sing beautifully and love to braid water nymphs’ hair ] •

• [ Wisps: glowing beings that mimic the forms of others, they’re friendly and curious little creatures that are as ancient as the Earth and know far more many things than you may realize, usually they take the form of stags or rabbits, but when they are interacting with someone specifically, they’ll usually mimic them ] •

• [ Pixies: tiny, mischievous fairy-like beings, who are all purple, indigo, and dark blue, they are known to play pranks and gang up with dwarves and fauns for a game of fun ] •

• [ Elves: tall, elegant and beautiful human-like immortal people, with long curving horns coming from their heads and pointed ears, they usually wear either silks and jewels, or leaves, moss, and acorn jewelry ] •

• [ Flying Horses: large, beautiful horses with huge feather wings, come in all colors, and are known to be very friendly, they love flying in between trees and searching for a nice clearing to lay and roll in, Elves usually are seen riding or befriending them ] •

• [ + More ] •

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

• [ Some Wildlife ] •

White-tail deer

Reindeer

Butterflies

Dragon-flies

Beetles 

Tigers

Lions

Bears

Honey Bees

Bumble-bees 

Rabbits

Hedgehogs

Birds 

Trout

Bass

Moths

Foxes 

Snakes

Worms

Isopods

Horses

Raccoons

Monkeys

Leopards

Owls

Mice

Rats

Frogs

Snails

Insects of all kinds 

Tortoises

Turtles 

+ tons more

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

• [ General Description of The Forest ] •

• [ An endless forest, full of magical beings, underground caves, clear water pools, huge to tiny trees, and animals of all kinds, all living in peace together, totally harmonious. ] •

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

• [ Me in this DR (Picrew Form) ] •

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• {{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{ • }}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}

#cosmoposts #marsposts #newtposts #reality shifting #shifting community #shiftblr #reality shifting community #shifting realities #reality shifter #shifter #reality shift #reality shifting blog #reality shifting diary #shifting blog #shifting diary #shifting consciousness #shifting script #shifting antis dni #shifting #shifters #desired reality #shift #original dr #dr script #reality shifting script #shifting motivation #shifting thoughts #shifting reality #desired reality shifting

[ghostoffuturespast]

22 March 2024 - Friday Field Notes

Rabbitbrush (top), Spring Mountain Parsley (bottom left), Fringed Sage (bottom right)

The Spring Equinox was earlier this week and while the calendars might say it's spring, some days it doesn't necessarily feel like it. The prairie is beautiful, but it's a harsh place to live sometimes. There is limited water and the climate alternates frequently between extremes. So even though the calendars say spring, the prairie is slow to wake up. The patient sort, the prairie knows to wait.

Most people might think it's too early to start even thinking about gardening, but that depends on the types of plants you're planting. Many domesticated garden varieties of plants and agricultural crops have been selectively breed to reduce seed dormancy for human benefit. The seeds from domesticated plants germinate more readily and more consistently than their wild cousins. Which makes them easier to grow, harvest, and eat, but because of that they require a lot more babying and care. Wild plants are much tougher.

Seeds are living organisms, the offspring of plants, and they contain everything a seedling needs so it can germinate and grow. Wild seeds are incredibly patient, they will wait months, sometimes years, before they will even consider growing. Some have armor so thick that it has to be chipped away at by rocks and ice, freeze and thaw cycles, before water and air can even get to the seed. Others contain acids and hormones that have to be used up between specific temperature ranges before they'll even think about sprouting. While others, not fully developed, are knocked off the fronds and petals of their parents, children that brave the elements and just prefer to wait and see. Wild seeds do not rely on a calendar, because they know and can feel when it is truly spring. When it is safe for them to finally venture out into the world and grow.

I have no idea if this Rocky Mountain Bee Plant that I planted will grow this season. It's suggested to do fall plantings so it'll overwinter. It has a very thick and tough seed coat. I'm hoping the abrading I did and the snow might help it along a little. If not, it'll be a surprise for next year.

A couple of Pronghorn lads enjoying the trail.

CW: dead animal, road kill below cut

This Beaver was hit by a car trying to cross the road. Underneath the road there is a storm drain that connects a retention pond and feeds into the creek at the site that I work at. The storm drain is grated off, to help improve the flow of water and to make sure detritus doesn't get stuck in the channel, which increases the chances of flooding. Because this Beaver was trying to follow the water and because the drain was grated off, they had no choice but to cross the heavily trafficked road. It's unfortunate that urban infrastructure often does not consider the needs of all living things. Grating off that storm drain means no wildlife can use it as safe passage.

I salvaged the tail from this Beaver for educational purposes for work, the rest them was too far gone to keep, so my coworker and I moved them off the road and onto the shoulder a safe distance away from any cars.

Most likely this Beaver will first become food for scavengers, Coyotes and Corvids, before it starts to decompose. Insects will lay their eggs on its rotting flesh so their larvae will have something to eat, perhaps the fur will become a part of someones nest, and then the bones will bleach. Crumble to dust and return to the soil to feed the billions of microorganisms beneath. It will help the plants grow. Maybe some day, it might even help another Beaver live.

It's sad this Beaver died, but in nature nothing is wasted and nothing is forgotten. Life and death are so inextricably linked and one does not exist without the other.

And heck, maybe that Beaver tail I kept might inspire a future engineer. Help them build a better and more compassionate storm drain.

#nature #friday field notes #little ghost on the prairie #plants #seed dormancy #spring season #short grass prairie #rabbit brush #spring mountain parsley #fringed sage #pronghorn #beaver #cw: dead animal

[taz-metamals]

Welcome to my TAZ sideblog! I’m working on drawing all the Steeplechase Metamals, and the purpose of this post is to organize and keep track of them.

Here are the Metamals in the order they were first introduced:

- Charles the Giraffesaurus rex

- Chihuahuowls

- Orwell the Armored Gorilladactyl

- Emperor Pumas (one is named Greg)

- Harold the Bulbulgoose

- Clarence the Beaver-eel

- Spider-spider monkey-monkeys

- Skunk-frogs

- Llama-sheep

- Yak-eagles

- Aardvark-coyotes

- Tiger-moles

- Pangolin-falcon

- Lance and Camille the Monkangaroos

- Turtle-lions

- Claude the Jagpanda

- Squieetahs

#i will continue to update this as I draw more #a couple spellings have been changed from when I first posted this because I finally went through the transcripts #to get ALL the description info #however some I’m keeping because I like them better despite what’s in the transcripts #for example gorilladactyl is one word #monkangaroo does not need a hyphen #or an extra k #jagpanda also does not need a hyphen #chihuahuowl needs the extra hu to make the w sound before owl #this is just how my brain works thank you for understanding #the adventure zone #taz #taz steeplechase #metamals #taz metamals #mcelroys #mcelboys #justin mcelroy #travis mcelroy #griffin mcelroy #clint mcelroy #beef punchley #montrose pretty #emerich dreadway

[sweetarethediscords]

The Maiden of The Barren Rime

Winter Wind blows through the valley, pushes us into our homes.

Pleading she knocks at our windows, scorned she continues to roam.

Chapter 1: The Brambled Beauty

Mina quieted at the sound of unfamiliar voices on the wind.

“Are you sure this is the right cabin?” It was a feminine voice, on the younger side, with a slight Tinian accent, most likely from the North Coast judging from the way they dragged the “er” in “sure.”

“Of course this is the right cabin! It’s the only cabin in this damned forest!” A masculine voice spat back. Staunchly Lanholdian, Mina could almost feel the thick tension in their tongue behind her own teeth. The gravel of age and annoyance ground up from the back of their throat.

Mina picked up her pace, leaping up into the treetops, crossing miles in minutes towards the voices with no more sound than the rustle of wind through pine needles.

She stilled. The branch beneath her feet barely creaked.

They were outside her cabin. A young woman with thick glasses and even thicker curly hair checked the compass in her hand as the short, sturdy man beside her impatiently tapped his foot and picked at the split ends of his long, braided beard.

Mina placed a hand on the hilt of her sword as she watched them through the canopy. The man’s leather armor bore a crest depicting a mountain top and three diamonds, with glinting, well-polished stripes on his pauldron pronouncing his rank. Seven; a general of lauded stature. Why he traveled with the young woman was unclear.

She was clearly not a noble. The slight roll forward of her shoulders, the patterned bandanna holding her hair out of her eyes too weathered or wrinkled for even a disguised royal to wear, and a decent soldier would never keep their guard down as much as hers was in an unfamiliar place. Perhaps she had hired the knight as security on her journey.

A journey Mina would take no part in.

She shifted to sit easily and silently, making sure not to catch the beaver skins hanging from her pack beneath her. A few more minutes and they would leave, then she could prep the skins and start to smoke the meat in her satchel as planned.

“Well,” the woman stuffed her compass into her jacket pocket. “At least it’s a nice day out to wait. Sun’s still warm enough to cut the edge off the autumn chill.”

Annoyingly, she made her way to the porch of Mina’s cabin and took a seat on its rough wooden steps. Mina ground her teeth slightly. Maybe a splinter or two would poke her through her patchwork skirt and urge her away.

The man huffed and kicked at a tuft of crabgrass. “You think this chill has an edge? Just wait until you’re on the Peaks.” The tuft came loose, sending dirt and now homeless pill bugs scattering. “If we ever get to the fucking Peaks.”

Dammit, Mina thought. They were here for an expedition.

“Ya know, we could always go with another alpinist,” the woman offered. “Beto Lamar’s homestead is about a day’s ride west from here.”

“A day’s ride but three weeks past our deadline,” the man said. “This girl can bring us back to Lanholde in under a month.” He stomped over and stood on the steps, too proud to sit, but not proud enough to not lean on the railing for support. “She will get us there in a month.”

“Even if she’s already off on an expedition?”

“She’s not,” the man gestured over his shoulder. “The windows are open. And this cabin is too well maintained for its owner to just head off for two months with the windows left open.”

Mina thudded her head against the tree trunk. Of course. An observant and stubborn knight.

She inhaled deeply, held it, then exhaled, taking her frustration down a little, unclenching her jaw just a touch. She'd piss them off enough that they’d rather stand Lamar’s extra three weeks in the cold than put up with her, and if that didn’t work, ask for a ridiculous amount of gold to scare them off.

Three more weeks in the cold. Three more weeks to die. The unwilling thought made her teeth ache.

She climbed down from the pine she had perched in and moved soundlessly towards the drying rack staked beside her cabin. She removed one of the rungs filled with beaver skins from her pack. A loud and forceful snap echoed through the woods as she dropped it into place.

The trespassing pair jumped. The knight drew his sword as the woman bladed her feet into a wide stance, arms lifted, ready to perform some sort of cast.

So they were a magic wielder and a knight.

“Get off the porch,” Mina stated bluntly as she hung another rack.

Out of the corner of her eye, she watched the knight’s jaw fall agape while the woman’s disposition relaxed. She straightened up out of her fighting stance, and Mina caught the faint sound of a cork squeaking back into a bottle on the wind.

“My apologies, miss. We’re looking for the alpinist that lives here,” she said. “Would that be you?”

“No,” Mina lied. “I’m a hunter. The alpinist lives to the west.”

The woman arched an eyebrow and looked to the knight. He flared his nostrils, puffed out his chest, and stomped over towards her.

“I am Sir Murmir Gargic, general-rank knight of the Lanholde Royal Army, proud servant to King Fritz Reinhardt.”

“Never heard of him,” she lied again.

The knight sputtered, whatever bullshit speech he had prepared dying on his tongue. “You never—”

“Sir Gargic,” the woman whispered behind him, calling his attention and allowing him a moment to regain his composure.

Annoying.

“Well, he’s heard of you, and has specifically recommended that we seek you out to lead us up the Fallow Peaks. We’re in a bit of a time crunch, so if you don’t mind talking terms so we can start the expedition today—”

“If that’s the case, then I guess your king expects you both to die,” Mina droned, mono-toned and matter-of-factly. “I’m a hunter, not an alpinist.”

The knight’s breathing shallowed as her jab at his ruler crawled under his skin. He inhaled deeply, a tirade building, when the woman placed a hand on his shoulder.

“How much would it cost for you to be an alpinist?” she asked.

Mina drifted her dull gaze over towards the woman, finding her with a smirk on her lips and a knowing glint in her eye.

“Seven thousand gilt one way,” she answered. “The real alpinist to the west charges half that.”

“I’m sure.” The woman shrugged. “But the alpinist we’re looking for fits your description exactly. Female alpinist. Rough around the edges. Lives alone in a cabin deep in the Sandere Woods, five hundred paces off of the last bend in Woodgullet Road, heading northeast.” She rattled off the details as if she were reading them off a sheet of paper.

Mina blinked slowly, then repeated. “Seven thousand gilt one way.”

“Deal.”

Gods fucking dammit. An unfortunately familiar tug pulled at her spine.

Sir Gargic fished out a scroll from one of the pouches on his belt, while the woman brandished a quill and a bottle of ink. He scrawled something down on it, then turned the parchment in her direction: a contract of duty.

His thick, stubby finger pointed at the 7,000g written next to the terms of payment. “Seven-thousand gilt to be delivered direct from the Capitol’s treasury upon our safe arrival.” His finger traveled down the page to a long signature line. “All you need to do is sign here.”

She did, reluctantly. Her arm dragged by that damned tug.

“Mina,” the woman read her name aloud, standing on the tips of her toes to watch as she wrote it. “I’m Wera Alrust.”

Mina snapped the quill once she finished, dropped it to the ground, and headed into her cabin.

“Where are you going?” Sir Gargic barked behind her. “You’re under contract to—”

“Packing,” Mina answered. “Can’t climb a ten-thousand-foot cliff face with just a bow, a sword, and a can-do attitude.” She paused in the doorway. “Just two going up?”

“Five,” Wera answered. “Six if you count yourself.”

“I don’t.”

Last-minute trips up the Fallow Peaks were nothing new to Mina, as much as she loathed them. They were always inconvenient and pressing, which meant the travelers were stressed and distracted — which meant the death count was usually higher than the average one or two losses. Expeditions such as this were few and far between, at least. Most travelers knew to prepare well in advance for the perilous journey, contracting her months ahead of time instead of minutes.

She closed all the windows and locked the shutters, made sure her books and sheet music were lifted off the ground in case the fall rains caused the lake to flood, and tucked the more expensive of her instruments away as she filled the pack she kept by the door.

“Flint, whytewing leathers, tarp, rations, climbing axes…” she muttered to herself as she rifled through it — taking stock to make sure she had everything she needed — then picked up a fiddle and bow leaning against a hard wooden chair. She loosened up the strings a bit and unstrung the bow to keep the horse hairs from snapping, then shoved it in with the rest of her gear.

“Where are the other three?” she asked as she stepped back outside and locked the door.

“Back on the road, waiting with the wagon,” Wera replied.

“You can’t take a wagon up a mountain.”

“We don’t plan to.” She was, frustratingly, smiling at Mina when she turned around. “Ready to go?”

“Lead the way.”

Sir Gargic headed off, impatience and frustration bringing out the ill-manner child in him. With such thin skin, it wouldn’t be long before he broke their contract, or he died. Rabbet’s Pass most likely, which would be convenient. She could leave his corpse in the caves there, and they wouldn’t have too far of a walk back to Sandere afterwards.

After only a few wrong turns through the thick wood, the seldom-used road emerged. A simple covered wagon pulled off to the side let the four horses that drove it graze lazily, while two more members of their party hung around it: an old woman with her hair up in a tight bun, sitting on the ground making daisy chains out of dandelions, and a young man with a sharp haircut and a well-coiffed mustache scrawling in a notebook as he sat in the driver’s seat.

Sir Gargic’s spine straightened and chest puffed out as he put on a bit of bravado. “We’ve returned!” he cried, waving grandly.

The old woman and mustached man looked up from their work. The woman abandoned her dandelions and stood to meet them, while the young man looked them over and flipped to another page in his book; quill taking off in a fury.

“Ah! Are you the young lady who will be guiding us?” The old woman smiled sweetly. “My name’s Tanir and the boy on the cart is Enoch.” She turned over her shoulder and hollered, “Wave hello, Enoch!”

Enoch raised his hand partially, too engrossed in whatever he was writing to look away.

“Mina.” Mina met Tanir’s gaze, and the old woman’s brow furrowed. She was looking for the appropriate response, a sign of expression to source Mina’s first impression of her. Mina watched her bottom lip shift subtly, a minuscule pucker as her teeth bit behind it uneased to find nothing.  

Annoy the knight. Unnerve the old woman. Now she just had to find the others’ weaknesses.

“You’ll have to leave the wagon and loose the horses an hour or so up the road. They’ll slow us down and will be hunted by the beasts of the Harrow.”

“Oh, uh—” Tanir swallowed. “That sounds like something you should discuss with Master Windenhofer. I’ll go get him for you.” She flashed another smile, this one fueled by nerves, and hurried off into the back of the wagon.

Enoch snapped his notebook shut and leaned over the side of the driver’s seat. He rested his chin on his hand dramatically, abandoning the fierce focus he held when writing to gaze at Mina with puppy dog eyes. “Did you know you are extremely beautiful for an alpinist?”

Sir Gargic sputtered with embarrassment. Wera shot Enoch a disgusted look.

Mina stared at him blankly.

“I know,” she said after a moment.

Enoch choked on his spit at her response. Wera burst out into a fit of laughter, drawing Mina’s attention.

Laughter wasn’t a response she was used to receiving.

“Don’t forget to write that one down,” Wera wheezed through her giggles. “‘My attempts at flirtation failed tremendously as usual.’ A good archivist doesn’t leave out any details!”

“Enough of that, Enoch!” Sir Gargic snipped, hitting him on the arm. “She comes highly recommended by The Crown of Lanholde, and you will address her with the respect that such a recommendation warrants!”

“S-sorry, M-mina,” Enoch stammered, still caught off guard by her curtness as he leaned back away from her, rubbing his injured arm.

“I hear we have a new face joining our motley crew!” a warm, deep voice cheered from inside the wagon. The cart bounced as a tall, lean man, with a wide smile and a thick shag haircut, stepped out of it, Tanir following behind.

“Hello, I am Sebastian Windenhofer. It is wonderful to meet you!” the man extended his hand out in greeting.

A soft breeze blew between them as Mina considered his outstretched hand. His fingers were long, as to be expected of someone of his height, and his palms were oddly covered with an even layer of callous.

She did not shake it.

“Mina,” she said to the hand, in the same bland manner that she had introduced herself to everyone else.

Sebastian seemed unbothered by his spurned handshake, and instead clasped his hands together and nodded his head softly, “Mina.” There was a slight hum to the ‘M’ as he said it. “Tanir mentioned that you wished to speak to me about something regarding the horses?”

Mina’s distant stare met his attentive gaze. Sebastian didn’t flinch. “You’ll have to leave the wagon and loose the horses an hour or so up the road.”

“Why’s that?” he asked.

“The woods are too thick for a wagon to fit through, and the mountains are too steep,” she answered. “The Harrowed Woods that border Sandere and the Peaks are filled with hungry monsters who will be lured by the thought of a four-course horse meal, too.”

“I see.” Sebastian brought his hand up and tapped his fingertips lightly against his lips as he thought. “Would it be better for the horses if we left the wagon and let them loose now as opposed to when we get closer?”

Mina paused, and tilted her head to the side, caught off guard by his question.

“Have I spoken out of turn?” his voice wavered.

“No, it’s just that I’ve never had someone ask to let the horses out early,” she replied, much more candidly than she intended. She straightened her head, collecting herself. “There’d be less chance of them being attacked. Not many monsters here in these woods.”

“That settles it, then.” Sebastian addressed his crew, “Gather your belongings, we will be continuing on foot from here. Wera and Sir Gargic, unhitch the horses and send them back down the road, please.”

“Ugh, my penmanship gets so poor when we’re walking,” Enoch groaned as he slid down from the driver’s seat.

“Guess you’ll have to save your sonnets for when we’re in Lanholde,” Wera remarked as she started unbuckling one of the horse’s bridles. “We’ve got nothing but walking ahead of us now.”

Sebastian returned his attention to Mina. “It should only take us a few minutes to get packed up. Would you like a cup of tea while you wait?” He reached inside his overcoat and pulled out a tea kettle and mug. Twirling the mug around his finger by its handle, he juggled the kettle with one hand and caught it by its base. Steam rose from its spout.

Not just a magic user. He was a wizard, capable enough to demonstrate his talents so casually.

Or cocky enough to make a big show over the few skills he did have.

“No,” Mina replied, tapping the canteen attached to her belt. “I have a canteen.”

She could have just left it at ‘no’.

“Of course.” He threw the tea set into the air as if he were throwing away a piece of paper over his shoulder and with a snap of his fingers they vanished.

Definitely a show-off.

“I have a few things to pack myself if you’ll excuse me,” he continued, smiling again, still wide as it shifted to a slightly different shape, then headed back into the covered wagon.

Mina watched him walk away.

If he wasn’t just a show-off, then maybe they’d make it a mile past Rabbet’s Pass.

🜁

“So, Mina, would you care to tell us a little about yourself?” Sebastian asked as they walked up the rest of the road. Considering how chatty they were while getting their shit together, Mina didn’t have any hope of a quiet walk to the Harrow’s beginning. “I’m sure there’s much more to you than living in these woods and leading expeditions through the Fallow Peaks.”

“That’s all there is to know,” she replied.

Sebastian chuckled, a rumble out from his chest that buzzed in Mina’s ears. “I’m sure that’s not true. What about ‘how you got started leading expeditions’? Doesn’t seem like a job someone just falls into.”

“It’s not.”

“Then how’d it happen for you?”

“Someone had to do it. So I did it.”

“And what did that entail?”

“Doing it.”

“Sebastian,” Tanir interjected, “perhaps it’d be best if we shared a little bit about ourselves first.” She smiled at Mina. Mina kept her gaze forward, praying that the treeline would take mercy on her and move closer on its own. “I’m the company medic, been working with Sebastian since he had a particularly rough encounter collecting basilisk venom a few summers back. Poor thing hobbled to my home half turned to stone, and insisted I travel with him on his adventures ever since.”

“You faced off against a basilisk?” Enoch piped up from the back of the pack. “When we rest for the evening, you’ll have to sit down with me and give me the full story. You too, Tanir. It should definitely be added to my records.”

“Are you volunteering to go next then, Enoch?” Sebastian asked.

“I— uh—” Enoch jogged up in front of them and turned to walk backwards as he spoke, “Well I met—”

“Don’t walk like that,” Mina interrupted. “If you fall and break something, we’ll have to leave you behind, or I’ll have to kill you.”

His steps slowed as his eyes widened. “Wh-what?”

“It’s quicker than the duskwolves tearing into your flesh and snapping your neck.” It was brutal imagery, but not entirely false.

“She’s kidding, Enoch,” Sebastian said.

Enoch’s voice hollowed. “H-how can you tell?”

“Because if you did break something, Tanir would gladly patch you up,” he reasoned.

“Though I’d give you a scolding while I did it for not listening to the expert,” Tanir added, drawing out the title expert to appease Mina’s non-existent good side. “So turn around and continue your story.”

“Right.” Enoch turned around quickly at her instruction, gathered his composure with a shudder of his shoulders, and turned his head slightly to the side to speak, “I met Sebastian on a truly fate-defining day. Wandering the Coast of Carvons, I was lost, looking for inspiration to strike.”

Wera groaned.

“And it did! As I sat on the beach, begging the great and powerful ocean to lend me some of its majesty, a geyser of sand erupted from underneath of me, sending me skyrocketing through the air. Whilst I fell from the heavens, I looked down at the ground below me. What once was a beach was now a golden temple! And upon the roof of this temple stood the great Sebastian Windenhofer, my new muse! Since that day, I have traveled alongside him, cataloging his adventures to tell the world of his greatness.”

“You know that the rest of us were on top of that temple too, right?” Wera chided before addressing Mina. “Please take his tales with a grain of salt. For an archivist, he seems to have a selective memory. I’m the cartographer. Sebastian was the first person to hire me out of school, and I’ve been traveling with him ever since.”

She looked back at Enoch and snickered, “See? Short, sweet, and to the point. Your turn, Sir Gargic.”

“Indeed.” Somehow, the knight puffed his swollen chest even bigger. “Unlike the rest of my compatriots, I am not under the employ of Master Windenhofer, but rather a liaison of The Crown of Lanholde. They’ve tasked the two of us with uncovering and collecting a few precious artifacts that The Crown has a vested interest in. We are on the last leg of this journey now.”

Everyone’s attention landed on Mina, heavy with expectation, a burdensome weight. They had offered their stories without her agreement. There was no need for her to respond. Responding would only embolden them to keep prying.

Sebastian broke the thick silence and turned to Tanir, “Did you really have to tell the basilisk story, Tani?”

“It’s one of my first and favorite memories of you,” she replied.

“You should’ve waited for winter,” Mina commented, against her better judgment. “Basilisks get sluggish and less alert in the cold. You can sneak up behind them and slice off their heads in one strike if your blade is sharp enough. Just make sure to cut about a foot below their jaw so that you don’t pierce the venom gland.”

Her unexpected advice, matter-of-fact and brutal, garnered shocked and confused expressions from everyone but the wizard. Maybe it was the right call, then. The more alien she seemed, the better off they all would be.

“Aha! You’re a hunter too!” Sebastian — frustratingly — cheered. “I knew there was more to you!”

 If Mina could meaningfully scowl, she would have. The sight of his smile stabbed at the corner of her eye as she kept her gaze forward. Wizards were known to be fascinated by curiously temperamental creatures, of course it would be harder to break him.

“Now, do you have any other comments, questions, concerns for our happy little troop? Perhaps some tips on how to deal with those duskwolves you—”

“You’re all loud,” she stated. “It’ll draw things to us, and cause trouble on the Peaks.”

“Why’s that?” Tanir asked.

“Avalanches.”

“Wait,” Enoch said. “There’s going to be snow on these mountains?”

“What did you think we bought all those cold weather clothes for?” Wera scoffed.

“Lanholde has a cooler climate. I just thought winter wear was the fashion there.”

Wera sent a pleading look Sebastian’s way. “Did you really have to hire him, ‘Bastian? We could have just left him stranded on that beach.”

“True,” Sebastian shrugged, “but we need entertainment on this journey, and watching the two of you bicker could rival some of the best traveling shows.”

As those around Mina talked, and laughed, and teased each other, the surrounding trees grew in number. Their trunks twisted, more gnarled and oddly shaped, their canopy so thick it shifted the shade of the lower leaves lighter from the lack of sunlight. The group came to a halt as the road ended at a wall of forest: the start of the Harrowed Wood.

“Right. Which of you can fight?” Mina asked as she headed to the front of the pack.

All of them raised their hands.

Wera and Sir Gargic she understood but the others… “This isn’t the time for jokes.”

“We wouldn’t have gotten this far if we couldn’t hold our own, lass,” Sir Gargic said. “Trust me, I was wary myself when I first met them, but even Enoch is worthwhile in a scrap.”

“Hey!” Enoch whined.

“Cartographer, you’re with me at the front,” she instructed before they wasted more time chatting. “Medic and Archivist in the center. Wizard and Knight in the back. Listen more than you talk. Keep an eye out for anything moving that shouldn’t be. If you see something, say something. And if something does attack us, no matter what happens, stay behind me.”

Mina didn’t wait for them to finish pairing off before weaving her way through the trees. She didn’t even acknowledge Wera as she hustled to fall in place beside her.

“So,” Wera drawled after a few minutes of silence between them, “why’d you pick me for the front?”

“You’re a mapmaker,” Mina replied. She didn’t look at Wera as she spoke, her stare focused on surveying the forest in front of them. “If you make a map of the Harrow and the Peaks and take down the trail I use, I may never have to lead people through here again.”

If she had to suffer through another expedition, at least she could make this one of use.

“You seem a little young to retire,” Wera remarked. “And you need income to upkeep that cabin of yours, right? Though with seven thousand gilt an expedition, I’m surprised you haven’t gotten yourself something a little sturdier to live in.”

She could feel the pressure of Wera studying her face, looking for something she’d never find.

“There are other ways to make money that don’t involve being bothered.” She changed the subject, “People think that there are just wolves, bears, various small-time magical beasts here. The Harrow is untouched. Nature and magic are uncontrolled and unforgiving.”

“Probably because of the runoff from the Peaks or some past geological event. I’ll make a note to have Enoch look into it.” Wera took out a small notepad and jotted something down. “If that’s the case then I’d bet there are many ways to cross over into parts of Elphyne here too, probably a bunch of fae circles, areas where the veil is thin. Would you be able to point them out when we pass them?”

“Just write down the trail taken and there’s no need to worry about any of that.”

She heard Wera’s pen skip on the page and a heavy exhale out of her nose.

There it was. She hated being talked down to.

Wera abandoned the topic and turned to basic questions about the flora and landmarks, easy enough that Mina could answer with little thought as she tuned one ear to the forest as best she could through the whispers of those walking a little too far behind her.

“Would you look at that,” Sir Gargic remarked, voice slightly muffled and strained. He talked out of the corner of his mouth in a bad attempt to be quiet. “She’s actually talking to Wera.”

“People do often talk to each other,” Sebastian said coolly, not feeding the knight’s judgment.

“Yes, but she’s so—”

“Are we talking about the Brambled Beauty?” Enoch whispered.

“The what?” Sebastian deadpanned.

“You don’t like it, sir? I’m trying to figure out the perfect way to describe such a terrifying and alluring creature.”

“Alluring?” Sir Gargic guffawed, “She’s so cold!”

“Yes! She’s cold!” Tanir added, voice peaking with a burst of realization.

Mina ground her teeth to keep from chewing them out. It was better that they didn’t know how well she could hear, and she had bore much harsher digs than their rude observations anyways.

“Just because she’s different than us doesn’t make her less of a person,” Sebastian chided. “And Tanir it’s unlike you to make assumptions about someone you’ve just met.”

“Oh no, I wasn’t trying to be cruel. I was just—”

A low gurgle deep within the ground, quiet and out of place in the harmony of forest sounds, environmental interrogation, and gossiping whispers, stilled Mina’s stride. She barred her arm across Wera’s chest, stopping the preoccupied cartographer, and held her other hand up to halt those behind them.

Their footfalls and chitchat ceased abruptly. Mina turned her head to the side, putting a finger to her lips to signal them to stay silent and wait.

She drew forth the sword that rested on her hip and crept forward, listening, eyes fixated on the forest floor. The gurgle reached her ears once more, louder and more guttural; hungry. Mina stopped, bladed her feet, and whistled a line of bird song.

“A meadowlark?” Sebastian whispered.

For a fleeting moment, she noted how keen his ear was, then a massive maw erupted out of the earth, lunging at her. Wind at her heels, Mina leaped at it, rocketing towards the toothy mouth at incredible speed, and drove her blade down through its top lip. The beast let out a terrible, gargling roar, shaking off the actual dirt and plants from its mimicking hide to reveal an ornery terramawg.

With the momentum of her jump and the leverage of her impaled sword, Mina vaulted over the bulbous amphibian’s earthen hide. She snapped her hips around, pivoting midair to face the beast’s back, and drew forth her bow in the same fluid motion.

The air stilled as Mina ran her fingers from the grip of her bow to its string. The water in the air collected, crystallized under the brush of her fingertips, forming an arrow of pure ice. She aimed for the creature’s third, slitted eye, a weak point that rested on the nape of its neck, and fired. A roaring gust of wind shook the trees, following in her arrow’s wake as it soared through the air, embedding itself deep into the terramawg’s brain.

Mina kept her focus on the beast as she descended, landing on a nearby tree bough without a glance back. The terramawg seized, the frost from her arrow glaciating its mind, and collapsed into a blubbery heap, returning to the mass of earth and withering foliage it disguised itself as.

Mina secured her bow on her back and slid down the tree’s trunk.

“Keep moving,” she said to the group as she retrieved her sword from the terramawg’s corpse.

It was as if they too had been immobilized by her ice. Sir Gargic’s hand rested on the hilt of his broadsword. Tanir had pulled out a handaxe from somewhere. Three thin daggers were laced between Enoch’s fingers like claws. A swirl of inky liquid hovered over Wera’s palm, while her other hand rested on her chest. Sebastian’s hands were coated in flame.

All of their mouths hung agape.

A dull pang pushed against Mina’s chest at the sight.

“Great Gods. Save some for the rest of us next time, will ya?” Sir Gargic shuddered.

“It was quicker if I handled it,” she stated. “Now come on. There’s more ground to cover before nightfall.” Mina turned on her heels and walked away, stepping across the terramawg’s body and taking care to drive her heels in a little harder as she did so.

“Hey, wait up!” Wera ran after her, manipulating the ink back in its vial and pulling out her notebook once again.“How were you able to tell where it was?”

Tanir pulled a stupefied Enoch along, “Come on. You should be jumping with joy. Action like that is sure to make your book even more exciting.”

“Well,” Sir Gargic remarked to Sebastian with a heavy exhale, “I guess we know why she’s so cold now.”

Sebastian hummed in acknowledgment, nothing more. Nothing until moments later, when under his breath a murmured thought slipped out.

“The wind even changed direction.”

The reverence in his tone, unheard by everyone else, bristled against the back of Mina’s neck.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: I hope you enjoyed the first chapter of The Maiden of the Barren Rime! Thank you so much for taking time out of your day to read it.

If you're interested in reading more, MBR releases on May 1st and is available for pre-order now! You can order it from Barnes and Noble, Books-a-Million, Amazon, and most independent bookstores!

#bookblr #writing #the maiden of the barren rime #fantasy novel #fantasy romance #fantasy books #romance novels #romance #slow burn #romantasy #words #writblr

[sinosauropteryx--prima]

National Fossil: Canada

Last week I asked what should be the national fossil of the USA and (to the surprise of absolutely no one) Tyrannosaurus won that title by a mile.

I liked the idea, so I thought I‘d do that again, but this time ask you guys what should be the national fossil for Canada. Honestly, I‘d like to do this for a lot of countries and maybe I can make a map for it in the end or something.

Same as last time: it could be a fossil that is just exceptionally well preserved and beautiful, had a huge impact on paleontology and our knowledge of the past, is very common/representive of the area, is beloved and famous in the public eye, is just a very unique and interesting find, or has any other justification.

Here are my suggestions:

Anomalocaris: Everybody‘s favorite “weird shrimp“, one of the earliest complex life forms and apex predator from the famous Burgess Shale fossil site in British Colombia, one of the best places to find creatures from the Cambrian, more than 500 million years ago.

Tiktaalik: An important step in the transition from fish to land-living tetrapods first found in Nunavut (Art by Zina Deretsky)

Edmontosaurus: A large duck-billed dinosaur with populations raging across large parts of North America and named after the Canadian city Edmonton

Albertosaurus: A large carnivorous dinosaur closely related to Tyrannosaurus and named after the Canadian province Alberta, where it was first found

Borealopelta: Only discovered in 2011, the beautifully preserved ankylosaur included osteoderms (the armor on its body), skin and even stomach contents. It was in such good conditions that even the color could be studied (it was reddish brown)

Castoroides: Since Canada‘s national animal is the beaver and I wanted to give you a mammal option/something more recent, may I present to you Castoroides, the giant beaver. The pleistocene animal was one of the biggest rodents of all time and common across North America

PS: If someone has suggestions for Mexico or other Central American countries, let me know.

#paleontology #paleoblr #fossils #anomalocaris #tiktaalik #edmontosaurus #albertosaurus #borealopelta #castoroides

[reina-royale]

Ron Deserved Better

Ron deserved better, from a narrative standpoint. Ron was capable of being more than just Kim's sidekick, and it would've been great to have that emphasized more.

In "Tick-Tick-Tick" Ron is the one who comes up with the idea of using hot sauce to short out the tick and a straw to remove it.

In "Bueno Nacho" Ron figures out how to work the laser after messing around with it for less than a minute.

In "Attack of The Killer Bebes" Ron is the one who made the connection that Kim's dad was the next target, came up with the plan to protect him and find out who was behind it all, and made an extremely convincing disguise in less than a day.

(I know Kim wasn't aware of any of this because she wasn't around, but Kim walking off the mission because she was mad isn't a good look for a hero. However, that's not the point of this post.)

In "Sink or Swim" Ron displays stealth, cunning, quick-thinking, improvisation, resourcefulness, and bravery. Even Kim acknowledges this, but only this one time.

In "Animal Attraction" Ron figures out that getting Rufus to eat corn dogs would make him heavy enough to press the button to release them. Simple? Yes. Effective? Also, yes. And most importantly, a plan that Kim had failed to come up with on her own.

In "Royal Pain" Ron manages to use a mini golf prop to stop a bad guy, aimed in such a way that Prince Wally, who was being held in the bad guy's grip at the time, wasn't harmed.

In "The Twin Factor" Ron manages to not just evade Kim and Shego, but trick Shego into undoing his bindings and lasts against them long enough for Jim and Tim to finish their silicon-phase disruptor.

In "Job Unfair" Ron used sneezing powder on Drakken, which managed to take both Drakken and Shego out of the fight. Simple, effective, and clever.

In "Naked Genius" Ron's mangler was actually a fairly decent weapon, especially considering he was just throwing random things together. And his idea to use it against all the armor was brilliant.

In "The Fearless Ferret" Ron actually makes a decent hero at the end, despite the fact that his mentor was a delusional man.

In "Exchange" Ron manages to kick a tree, that then splits cleanly and falls over. That is not a normal amount of strength. He also manages to make his clothes disappear during Bo practice, which, though embarrassing, is also a bit of an impressive feat.

In "Hidden Talent" it's stated that Ron proved quantity was better than quality, but Ron was actually good at half of the acts he performed; tap dancing, ventriloquism, and water glasses.

In "Return to Wannaweep" Ron figures out how to use his new beaver-like mutation and his surroundings to defeat Gil, and figures it pretty quickly.

In "Partners" Ron and Monique manage to build a donut-launching system relatively quickly, and it proves extremely useful in distracting a mutant dinosaur.

In "Oh Boyz" Ron manages to help the Oh Boyz escape by having them use their dance moves to throw off the motion-detecting lasers. He also taught himself their dance moves just by watching them.

In "Triple S" Ron actually did a decent job of staying on the tray and holding the umbrella. I'm not surprised people thought it was a new sport; an average person doing that on accident wouldn't have been able to stay on it at all.

In "Bad Boy" Ron builds dangerous and powerful devices, and has the foresight to track the Kimmunicator's frequency. And the only thing he switched with Drakken was morality, not intelligence. Thus, it's reasonable to assume that Ron is extremely intelligent, he's just not trying.

In "Overdue" Ron goes on several missions alone to retrieve a library book.

In "Stop Team Go" even Shego acknowledges that Ron turning evil again is very bad. And he sends a bunch of Wegos flying through the air immediately afterwards.

And, of course, Ron's powers come into full bloom in "Graduation".

TLDR: Ron was capable of being more than a sidekick, a solo hero in his own right, and it would've been nice if the narrative hadn't treated him as Kim's inept and clumsy sidekick, even when he's being amazing.

Bonus: In defense of his clumsiness, and less than stellar grades, Ron mentions in "The Fearless Ferret" that he has "a slight stigmatism" but that his doctor says he shouldn't need corrective lenses. As someone who needed glasses at Ron's age, and someone who had astigmatism, I can say this; Ron's astigmatism may not be bad enough that he is legally classified as visually impaired, but even with slight astigmatism, it can still make things blurrier than they should be and mess up his ability to see detail, read, and screw with his depth perception.

In other words, Ron isn't horribly clumsy or stupid, he just can't see.

#ron stoppable #kim possible #meta #character analysis

[ebonyslasher]

Do you think Black Noir has moments where he could regress ? Caused by stress, near death experience or coping with his trauma

Back to his younger self, and the reader helps him through this moments

Yes, he would have moments where he would regress. We saw that in episode 7 where he was severely distressed with the announcement of Soldier Boy.

As we all know, traumatic experiences are like chronic conditions. Feelings of numbness and high emotions (happy, depressing, manic) are dealt with by coping mechanisms, therapy, etc. Regression can happen predictably and unpredictably. And although Black Noir is a supe with a regenerative ability- he still went through hell to recover from Nicaragua.

Buster Beaver and his Pizza Pals are a coping mechanism for his adult self. He's seen them when he was a child, and they helped him through those moments. It could be possible that they went away by late middle school and came back after his torture. Maybe they were there the whole time.

He lets them talk to him. Reenact happy moments in his life. Gas him up when he feels self-conscious. He has the best dance parties with them, even though it looks like he's dancing alone. He even plays games with all of them. It's.....odd to watch. Uncomfortable. But, if it helps him at the moment, then you just mind your business.

How would you help though? His friends seem to be perfect for him. And they are. But there are things they can't do that you can in those difficult moments.

Buying coloring books and coloring with him

Playing classic and nostalgic video games on the Gamecube and N64. Kirby Airride is one of his favs

Rent out a private arcade. You can't see his face but he smiles in joy when you take him there

Hugs, Hugs, Hugs. Hug him tight as hell...his armor is a bit too thick in places lol

Honestly, give him a safe atmosphere where he doesn't have to be responsible. He can have fun, be merry, and be joyful with you. No outside world exists- No Stan, Soldier Boy, or any of them. Just, you, him, and his cute pals

How could he ever give that up?

#the boys #black noir #black noir x reader #black reader #sighhhhh #makes me a little sad but he needs the care

[yu-gi-poll]

(Click the image + open image in new tab for better quality!)

Thank you to my sister @marwamarwa for making the bracket image! It took a lot of work & I really appreciate it :)

This will be a 128-contestant, single-elimination tournament. The bracket will be split into four sets, each comprising of 16 polls that will last a week. Each set, aside from being shown in the above image, will be listed below alongside the date it'll be posted. When the polls come out, I'll link them below.

Match-ups written out below the cut:

ROUND 1A

Will be posted on Thursday, 10/12, with all 16 polls being queued for between 12 PM and 2 PM EST.

Kuriboh vs. Sangan

Kuribabylon vs. Kuribandit

Kuriboh Brothers vs. Silent Magician

Dark Magician vs. Dark Magician Girl

Magician of Faith vs. Witch of the Black Forest

Pumpking the King of Ghosts vs. Maha Vailo

Great Mammoth of Goldfine vs. The Snake Hair

Man-Eater Bug vs. Morphing Jar

Diabound Kernal vs. Divine Serpent Geh

Guardian Eatos vs. Guardian Dreadscythe

The Claw of Hermos vs. The Fang of Critias

The Eye of Timaeus vs. Timaeus the Knight of Destiny

Blue-Eyes Ultimate Dragon vs. Obelisk the Tormenter

Blue-Eyes Toon Dragon vs. Blue-Eyes White Dragon

Ancient Dragon vs. Dragon Master Knight

Black Luster Soldier vs. Magician of Black Chaos

ROUND 1B

Will be posted on Saturday, 10/14, with all 16 polls being queued for between 12 PM and 2 PM EST.

Flame Swordsman vs. Jinzo

Gilford the Lightning vs. Gearfried the Iron Knight

Alligator's Sword vs. Rocket Warrior

Beaver Warrior vs. Catapult Turtle

Baby Dragon vs. Time Wizard

Red Eyes Black Dragon vs. Thousand Dragon

Psychic Armor Head vs. Red Eyes Black Dragon Sword

Air Fortress Ziggurat vs. Chaos Emperor Dragon- Envoy of the End

Castle of Dark Illusions vs. Labyrinth Wall

Gate Guardian vs. Shadow Ghoul

Relinquished vs. Thousand-Eyes Restrict

Illusionist Faceless Mage vs. Legendary Fiend

Toon Dark Magician Girl vs. Toon Summoned Skull

Giant Soldier of Stone vs. Summoned Skull

Celtic Guardian vs. Breaker the Magical Warrior

Curse of Dragon vs. Winged Dragon, Guardian of the Fortress

ROUND 1C

Will be posted on Monday, 10/16, with all 16 polls being queued for between 12 PM and 2 PM EST.

Dragon Lady vs. Dragon Piper

Kung Fu Nyan Nyan vs. Thunder Nyan Nyan

Kunoichi Ayame the Ninja Girl vs. Ninja Master Shogun

Insect Queen vs. The Legendary Fisherman

Prinzessin vs. Thorn Princess

Hexe Trude vs. Globerman

Harpie Lady vs. Valkyrie Brunhilde

Harpie Lady Sisters vs. Harpie's Pet Dragon

Cyber Harpie Lady vs. Amazoness Chain Master

Cure Mermaid vs. Injection Fairy Lily

Darklord Marie vs. St. Joan

Shinato, King of a Higher Plane vs. Exodia Necross

Exodia the Forbidden One vs. Winged Dragon of Ra

Right Arm of the Forbidden One vs. Slifer the Sky Dragon

Holding Arms vs. Holding Legs

Agido vs. Mystical Beast of Serket

ROUND 1D

Will be posted on Wednesday, with all 16 polls being queued for between 12 PM and 2 PM EST.

Marshmallon vs. Watapon

Petit Dragon vs. Shining Friendship

Flying Elephant vs. Zera the Mant

Barrel Dragon vs. Metalzoa

Machine King vs. Robotic Knight

Axe Raider vs. Orgoth the Relentless

Alpha the Magnet Warrior vs. King's Knight

Beta the Magnet Warrior vs. Queen's Knight

Gamma the Magnet Warrior vs. Jack's Knight

Knight of Twin Swords vs. Reflect Bounder

Cosmo Queen vs. Mystical Elf

Musician King vs. Trap Master

Black Tyranno vs. Serpent Night Dragon

Poison Butterfly vs. Parasite Paracide

La Jinn Mystical Genie of the Lamp vs. XYZ-Dragon Cannon

Glassman vs. Gearfried the Swordsmaster

#yugipoll #yugioh #yu-gi-oh #yugioh dm #yu-gi-oh dm #yugioh duel monsters #yu-gi-oh duel monsters #duel monsters #poll bracket #poll tournament #polls