#Raine Ahlgren

[translunaryanimus]

The rest of the Sarvipöllö-Hollolas (Minus Aimo)

Finished up the rest of the Sarvipöllö-Hollolas (Minus uncle Aimo because I do not have his colors yet). More about them under the cut because I wrote a lot. Massive post. Images are described in alt text! As always, these folks are for the @halfstack-smp

In image order

Sampsa was born into the Waxcoat ships business but never enjoyed all the sights, sounds, and smells of the sea quite as much as their sister Tuulikki. They broke off from Waxcoat ships in their early 20s, traveling to the Luumuseo to take up their residence there, though never becoming the owner.

Sampsa's entire arm was blown off while he was firing a bow due to the family curse, causing more than one catastrophe that day. The arrow caught a rope connected to the main mast of one of the docked ships, setting the balance off just enough to cause all the sails to unfurl the wrong way into strong winds, immediately tipping the ship all the way over onto its side. Nobody died luckily.

Sampsa wasn't aware they were queer until one of his grandkids introduced the concept to him.

Sampsa currently works as an archival assistant at the family Luumuseo. Hannu makes sure to give them easy but interesting work and has made the space accessible to account for his missing arm. They have a prosthetic, it's just itchy and he doesn't need it constantly, so Sampsa will frequently go without it. He is married to Ilona.

Ilona was born to 'Tengu' parents with some questionable hybridization back in her lineage. She's married to Sampsa.

Ilona is an art historian and conservationist, spending a majority of her free time cleaning, repairing, and re-framing artworks sent to her for her conservation efforts. She's got an excellent eye for detail and can likely tell you who made what piece in what era no matter the piece she's shown. She's also excellent at spotting fakes or forgeries of original works, as well as legally reproduced copies. Ilona has amassed a small collection of artworks she's taken in for study and research purposes.

She dabbles in a little bit of painting herself and all of Sampsa's prosthetics have hand-painted details from her.

Severi is a fashion historian and regularly works with Ensi. to reproduce and preserve old fashions and sewing patterns found through the Family's archival efforts. Most gifts from either of them are immediately recognizable given that they're a handmade garment 90% of the time. Hannu's Shawl was a birthday gift from Ensi and Severi.

Severi does not have a personal clothing brand but does sell some of the things he sews or crochets on the side that she doesn't want to keep.

Severi's legs exploded slightly due to the family curse shortly after her 17th birthday. She uses a wheelchair to help him get around now. He let his kids decorate her wheelchair when they were all young and still lets them do so if they ever want to. She lives close to his great aunt Ensi and the two of them regularly swap patterns.

Saana is a talented linguist, specializing in the discovery of old languages, their reconstruction, as well as the creation of conlangs. Saana has created more than a few conlangs for her husband Janne's books and is always credited in the back.

Saana developed her passion for linguistics from a young age, spending most of her free time learning anything and everything she possibly could about all different languages from the resources her parents could provide. She's fluent in at least 5 languages and regularly makes up new conlangs for fun. Saana sometimes teaches linguistics courses at the same college Hannu graduated from. Janne was born to tengu parents in a spruce taiga home. He is married to Saana Sarvipöllö-Hollola. He writes fiction and fantasy books mostly aimed at child and young adult audiences, telling grand stories of worlds that do not exist like their own. He has a science fiction publication but that one was enough for him to decide that he never wanted to write sci-fi again.

Columba was born to Tengu parents in a birchwood forest home. He has no siblings and is married to Severi. He came out as trans at age 13, allowing that experience to be a part of their fashion concepts moving forward. He'd already begun taking sewing classes several years beforehand and started to make clothes that would both bring him some comfort and look spectacular.

Columba creates and sells 'designer' style clothes under the brand name Dove and Raven. Dresses, skirts, blouses, shirts, all made by hand and fit to each origin's particular requirements on sizing and shape. He occasionally gifts clothing to his family members but it's a bit difficult to get them all done in time so he mostly offers sewing classes.

Corvus is an avian origins weaponry expert and, as such, spends quite a bit of time around Inka. His kids love it there because Inka shows them cool sharp things they usually aren't allowed to touch. She spent quite a bit of time around her great aunt Inka as a child, leading to him developing a passion for avian origin specific weaponry. It keeps an unsafe amount of claw extending knives around the house but doesn't seem to see the issue with having them, much to the delight of her partner.

Emille assists her with with reproduction copies of old avian origins weaponry, some to send to the Luumuseo, some to keep at home, and some to bring to fairs for entertainment's sake. Aquila is an avian origins architecture expert, focusing on the preservation and restoration of Tengu and Sirin ruins. There's been some debate as to whether or not feathered draconis count as avian, but Aquila includes them in xir research anyways.

Aquila spent most of his time sketching as a kid, drawing building after building and floorplan after floorplan. Once he found the original building plans for the Sarvipöllö-Hollola Family Luumuseo, Xir love for architecture only grew. One of his notable contributions was the addition of disabled avian origin friendly architecture in both the Sarvipöllö-Hollola Family Luumuseo and The Downfeather, calling on older blueprints for similar structures that had fallen out of modern usage.

Emille reproduces both actually dangerous and child-safe versions of historically avian origin produced weaponry. The dangerous reproduction stay at home, go to Inka, or go to Hannu at the Luumuseo. The safer reproductions are sold at fairs for entertainment's sake for younger audiences and also occasionally given to Raine and Siv as both education and a way to entertain them.

Emille picked up their love of blacksmithing from the local Daystone population, being taught by a smith that they remember as having iron inlays and strong but gentle hands. As such, most of their crafts are intricately detailed and tend to resemble the works of a daystone rather than the works of a faun. Raine fancies themselves a writer and is working on their own vast, interconnected web of lore for their 37 magical wolf oc's. Ae has always been a particularly ferocious reader, regularly demolishing upwards of 40 books over the course of a few months or so. Currently ae's obsessed with aer uncle Janne's book series, A Dance of Stars and Storms. Siv is going about her life as any 10yo child does. She is ABSOLUTELY convinced that she's an aspect of Aelrys. She isn't, but she has horns and wings and so does Aelrys so she's 100% convinced she is.

If you've somehow read all the way down here, thanks! I'm going to go dunk my head in cold water to cool off my brain.

[tearsofsyrup]

HIII VIII 💗💕. for that ask game, treat & reverie 😁

HEY CHI, I HOPE YOU ARE DOING WELL, I’VE MISSED YOU ❤️❤️

-

treat: your favorite sweets?

this is one hell of a question to ask me ‘cause i’ve the biggest sweet tooth i know of - not an exaggeration. i love princess cake, ben & jerry’s chocolate fudge brownie ice cream, swedish cinnamon buns, fazer’s domino cookies, swedish sticky chocolate cake, brownies in general, swedish chocolate balls, my mom’s birthday cake, mazariner (swedish almond tarts), tupla, mandelkubb (swedish almond pastries), fazer’s chocolate in general, cloetta’s plopp, kinder eggs, ahlgren’s bilar, fazer’s american pastilles, brunberg’s rice bars and the list goes on.

reverie: think of somewhere otherworldly you wish to be within, what is it like there?

what comes to mind first is a seemingly infinite forest with towering trees that are tall enough to make you dizzy when you look up to search for their heads, thick moss, chirping birdies, woodpeckers, a vast sea of wood anemones, an unexpected clearing where i look up to meet a rich blue sky and curly clouds, maybe some poppies grow there. i’m a little scared because i don’t know where i am but it is also comforting somehow. it rains for a while and the scent warms throughout my chest in the cold weather. and then it is snowing and everything is covered in thick, thick, thick snow and glittery ice decorates my eyelashes. i hear an enchantingly eerie melody in the distance and i think it’s an elf or a nymph. or a wolf in disguise.

-

send me asks

[isometimeshavethoughts]

Wednesday 27 October 07:20

Cycling in complete darkness while its raining was not the ideal morning I hoped for but at least I'm not late.

As a note to myself I should remember to put my "piece-of-cloth-I-clean-my-glasses-with-whos-name-I-cant-remember-in-english" in my backpack and get some more reflective things. I forgot that people appear out of nowhere when it's dark outside.

I'm also hoping I wont starve before lunch because my breakfast consisted of: 2 very small carrots, a chocolate covered bravo cookie, some djungelvrål and a few Ahlgrens bilar.

I need to start getting up earlier

[blog-mcc]

RURAL AMERICA – WE ARE HERE!

Our Big Sky Watershed Corps members live and work all across Montana. Here is a passionate description of the culture and lifestyle of rural America - Petroleum County in Central Montana written by Laura Nowlin, the coordinator for the Musselshell Watershed Coalition, which hosted its first Big Sky Watershed Corps member in 2013.  Our BSWC members provide critical capacity to rural areas.  Now hosting its ninth and tenth members, the MWC has come to rely on the fresh perspectives and energy that BSWC members bring to their projects.  These members live in Winnett, where local residents now know about the BSWC program and members are a regular part of the community.

Photo Credit: Levi Nowlin

Reprinted from www.PrairiePopulist.org, by Laura Nowlin, January 23, 2019

I have read several stories recently that make life in rural America seem pretty dismal – the population is aging and decreasing, everyone is poorly educated and addicted to drugs, and the land is either not accessible to the public, or it is being destroyed by crops and cows. I wonder how much time those journalists spent in rural America before they wrote those stories? Any places that matter take a time investment to understand. Well, I haven’t just visited the “flyover” states, I live here – five generations of my family have lived in the same central Montana county. I can’t speak for all of rural America, but I can speak about this place and I would like to challenge the stereotype.

My husband and I have two children and we chose to raise them in rural America. We left good paying “regular” jobs to live and work in the country. We read a lot of children’s books and one of our favorites is Horton Hears a Who. I think often of those Whos and how they united to yell as loud as they could, “We are here! We are here! We are here!” for someone to hear them.

There aren’t many of us out here – 500 people in all of Petroleum County. We are spread out, and we work full-time jobs, sometimes several jobs. We are mostly farmers and ranchers, teachers, and local government staff. We are not journalists, marketing directors, or graphic designers – it is hard to gather together to be loud enough to tell our own story. But, we have a story to tell. It’s not perfect and there are improvements to be made, for sure, but it is not so dismal as you might read in the New York Times. We love where we live, we work with our neighbors to keep our communities going, and we care about the land and our livestock.

Photo Credit: Reba Ahlgren

WE ARE HERE: WE ARE PASSIONATE ABOUT THE LAND

We are here, we have been here, and we would like to stay here. The Northern Great Plains – the grasslands and the breaks – are our home. We live on the prairie – an unforgiving, wonderful, crazy place. My great-great aunt used to say, “This country takes and it takes, and then, in one year, it gives it all back.” Mother Nature offers up the most inspiring moments, and the most devastating, and when you live with the land, you experience it all. You develop an appreciation for the land that comes from shared experiences.

And those experiences are shared with your neighbors as well. You develop a bond with those people stronger than can be described. It’s a bond that when there is a death in the community, 300 people attend the funeral – the only space large enough is the school gymnasium.

Most of us in rural central Montana are lucky enough to live, work, and play where our homes are. We think we are the luckiest people on earth and we would like to share it with anyone who wants to come visit. But, we want you to understand it when you come. In our little slice of paradise, we get 13 inches of precipitation per year. Santa Fe gets 14. The average for the United States is 39 inches per year. So, unless you are from the desert southwest, we are going to look a little bit like a desert. We all know that the majority of this precious precipitation needs to come from April to June to get everything growing. So, when you come to visit, ask how much rain and snow we’ve had and when it came so you can understand if we are having a wet or dry year – which makes all the difference.

We are passionate about our land. This includes the public land where we graze our cattle and the private land that has sometimes been in families for over 100 years. Most of Petroleum County is grassland or the Missouri River Breaks – land that is not suitable for growing crops, so instead, most of us raise cattle.

Photo Credit: Laura Nowlin

The grasslands evolved with grazers. The two are codependent on each other and the grasslands need a large herbivore grazing it just as much as the cattle need the grasslands. When a cow grazes, she chomps off part of the plant, which allows it to regrow. When a plant does not have the opportunity to regrow, it becomes decadent – old growth dies and clogs out any chance for new growth to happen. The wildlife, such as deer and antelope, don’t graze this old, dead grass. Cattle hooves break up plants and create litter that covers the ground – this catches water and also helps plants to regrow. And, finally, cows poop and pee – the best form of natural (and free!) fertilization out there. Grazing is part of the whole system that enhances both the soils and everything that is below ground, as well as the grasses and other plants above ground.

Ranchers provide, “ecosystem services.” This means that when we use good land management practices, we provide benefits to the land from which all of society benefits. Healthy grasslands, which can be achieved through cattle grazing, provide ecosystem services like carbon sequestration, water filtration and water storage, open spaces, and wildlife habitat. The beauty of using cattle to graze the grasslands is that they can be managed to address the needs of the land. For example, a noxious weed infestation can be grazed at a certain time of year to get it under control. Where build-up of plant material has happened, grazing that build-up can keep fire danger managed to a more natural level. Studies of grassland songbirds have shown that some of these birds need short grasses, and even prefer bare ground, at certain times of the year. Ranchers can graze their cattle through pastures on a rotation that benefits these declining bird populations.

Ranching on public lands saves money for the government. The Bureau of Land Management spends $2 per acre for the lands that ranchers use, but it spends $5 per acre to maintain ungrazed land.

But, don’t take my word for it – come to see these things for yourself. We welcome you to our private lands. Just because they are private, does not mean that they are inaccessible. A neighbor once told me, “I consider myself fortunate to have private land and consider it my responsibility to offer access to it to those who are not able to have their own.”

Photo Credit: Reba Ahlgren

WE ARE HERE: WE ARE PASSIONATE ABOUT OUR COMMUNITIES.

“I don’t think that people understand how passionate we are about our communities,” one of my neighbors recently told me. Our tiny community of 500 (ages 4 months to 102) volunteered 8,736 hours in 2018.[1] These hours were spent on county commissions, town councils, school boards, conservation district boards, ambulance, fire, search and rescues, sheriff’s reserve, and on and on.  Imagine serving on an ambulance crew when you know that most of the calls will be for someone that you know.

We are part of the two percent of the population producing food for the other 98 percent. Tax dollars support farmers and ranchers through cost share programs that help provide range improvements for both livestock and wildlife. These best management practices not only help ranchers with risk management, but also contribute to making food everywhere more affordable. These tax dollars amount to less than ½ of 1 percent of the total US budget.[2] In Petroleum County alone, our 105 agricultural operations produce enough beef to feed 127,745 people for one year.[3]

We are passionate about our children. The Winnett School is a Blue Ribbon award-winning school. The school’s food program has also won awards, and, most recently, local ranchers have begun donating beef to the school so that we know where our children’s beef comes from. The high school graduation rate is 98%.

Photo Credit: Laura Nowlin

There is also plenty to do. My children take guitar and piano lessons in Winnett on Mondays, they play basketball on Tuesdays, they go to “Kids’ Club” at the church on Thursdays, and they are 4-H members – and they are only six and eight years old. When they aren’t busy with social and school activities, they help us on the ranch. They have put out and picked up miles and miles of electric fence. They are learning about hard work, caring for animals, and nurturing the land by getting outside and doing it.  Come visit and you too can do some fencing.

When you do, we’ll take you to the school. Grades kindergarten through 12 are all under the same roof.  The Technology Education teacher will show you his 3D printer, plasma cutter, welders, and wood shop. You’ll see the school-community library with computer and internet access for patrons. Come on a Friday or Saturday night and you’ll see the gymnasium packed for basketball games.

Since 2010, our community has grown by 5.9 percent, which is more than Park and Ravalli Counties in trendy western Montana. There are young people returning home, and new people coming to the area, at a high rate. This is something that I hear about in our neighboring communities as well. Winnett and the northern part of the county have fiber optics. We have access to the highest speed internet of anyone in the entire United States. When you visit, you won’t have cell service, but you can stream any YouTube video that you want (well, not any, but we can talk about that when you get here).

Photo Credit: Brenda Brady

WE ARE HERE: WE ARE PASSIONATE ABOUT OUR FUTURE

We are a tight-knit community that cares about the land and each other. We are busy with our businesses, volunteering in the community, and raising the next generation of people who will steward the land, provide food, work hard, and contribute to something larger than themselves. Come visit.  Don’t just drive through or stop for lunch, really visit. We are happy to show you our land, our ranches, and our communities. Then, maybe you will call with us, “We are here!”

If you would like to visit a ranch in central Montana, contact the Fergus /Petroleum County Extension Office at 406-535-3919 or fergus@montana.edu.

Laura Nowlin is a wife and mother of two, working, living, and playing on a little piece of paradise in central Montana, north of the town of Winnett. She and her husband ranch. She is also a part-time coordinator for the Musselshell Watershed Coalition. Between the two of them, they serve in seven community groups. Laura is a board member of the Winnett ACES (Agricultural Community Enhancement and Sustainability).

http://prairiepopulist.org/rural-america-laura-nowlin/

[tsw-story]

Chapter 24 - The Lonely Bull

Even when I was little, my father taught me how to be tough, because that was the only way he knew to make me strong. We trained with blunt sticks. I thought it was infuriating at first, but I grew to enjoy that time we spent together, and I'll never forget when the day came that I knocked the stick out of his hands. Neither did he, I assume, because I knew it wasn't raining, even if he told me it was.

But this story isn't about my dad and I. Xeno, Ron, you both fill me with rage. I hope you know that. I'm sharing with you why you're here only because soldiers need substance behind their fighting, I assume. That's what my dad told me once. So sit back and I'll tell you a bit of it, and you better damn well listen closely. I'm not repeating a thing. All right? Good. Though, I don't know why I'd need to explain why magic is bad in the first place. You both experienced it first-hand. Twice.

Again, back to my father, but that's where I have to start. I'm a descendent of the Bull clan of spellbreakers. Whether one realizes it or not, all spellbreakers come from one of many clans named after animals. That's what my dad told me, anyway. He possessed no abilities himself. They skip generations, sometimes several, leaving some lost from their ancestral connections completely. He knew I had the abilities of a spellbreaker, so he had me practice. You might think this is why I hate wizards, and it might be part of it, but this isn't the reason, no. It's simply how I managed to enter this wizard's world that hardly a person knows about.

“Your magic eyes need to be stronger,” he'd say, though I didn't really know how to practice. “If you falter, a wizard can launch you through a wall. You'll be a soldier, Asta. But not someone simply fighting for your country. You'll be fighting for the side of sanity. Protect us from the uprising of demigods.”

“I will, dad.”

“And I don't want to see you sneaking out again. Do you hear me? You think I don't know? Your curfew is ten o'clock. Remember that.”

“Of course, dad.”

So naturally, I snuck out that night. I respected my father more than anybody in the world, but there was some unnatural force pulling me from my bed. It wasn't magic. Or was it? Maybe it was a kind of magic. It was the need to meet with somebody—a person my dad would surely kill if he found out.

We lived out on a farm, you see, so I didn't really know many other people my age. But I was coming of age, and I had a desire to explore beyond. I managed to find somebody one day, and his name was Victor Regner, and that's who I snuck out to find. We met at the nearby park often. His hair was long and blonde, and he had a handsome, smooth face that... Sorry. That isn't important.

It was also around this time that I had already been in contact with those above us. I began carrying out work as a spellbreaker. It was difficult, but over time, I became better at my craft. We caught wizards and brought them in, and I didn't really know what happened after that, but there was a strange joy I felt after a job well done. Thankfully, I was still able to often visit my home. My father was so proud of me, and Victor provided much needed support. I finally told my dad of him, and he was furious at first, but he came to accept us together.

“Your hair is always so smooth, and it shines, even without the sun. How do you do it?” Victor said to me.

“Stop that,” I'd reply, as I normally would, though I didn't truly want him to.

And he didn't. He made my life worth living. Work wasn't always easy, in fact, it rarely was, and Victor made it an absolute treat to come home.

You might be wondering what the spellbreakers actually did with the wizards they arrested. I started questioning that, and I did find out, somewhat. The cases changed all of the time. Seeing what wizards could do, I was hoping they'd be locked up, or even killed in some cases, but what I discovered made me upset.

Some of the wizards at least were recommissioned to work along side us. It made no sense to me. Wizards were the enemies, so how could we trust them? Use them? It was a slippery slope after that, and I wish I could say that was the reason. The next part I remember so clearly that it feels as if it only just happened. Maybe it's because it wakes me up on occasion.

The room was small and quiet, and other than me, it was empty. I was sitting in front of a desk. The door behind me creaked open, and the clapping of shoes echoed as a suited man made his way past and around me to sit at his chair. This wasn't unusual. He was a government worker, and I assumed I was to be given yet another ordinary task.

“You've been good to us, Miss Ahlgren. Therefore, we felt it right to be the ones to tell you this bad news directly,” he said.

My heart pounded. “Bad news?”

“Yes. It's about Victor.”

“What happened to him?” I asked immediately.

“I'm afraid he hasn't been completely truthful, or you to us, because Victor is the next assignment, Miss Ahlgren. Victor, since birth, as it goes, is a wizard. Not only that, but his powers were seen first hand, so action must be swift. We won't make you do it, but I am here to tell you that he'll be taken in.”

“You're lying. That's impossible. I've known him for years, and he's never done anything!”

“I'm afraid I'm not. Someone will be dispatched soon to arrest him before anybody else sees the truth. You know how things are. We can't let the world find out these people exist, even if they're someone close to us.”

My mind was spinning. What I heard, it seemed an impossibility. Victor, the love of my life, was a wizard in disguise? I couldn't accept it. He'd never lie to me. We always shared everything with one another.

“Don't touch him!” I shouted.

“Miss Ahlgren. If you value your job, you'll take some time to cool down before you say something you'll regret. This is just how the world works. You knew that when you signed up.”

I won't get into details about what happened next, but I did bring my mace to that meeting, and he needed a new desk afterwards. I was truthfully surprised I wasn't fired on the spot.

Lost in a dizzied rage, I made my way to Victor as fast as I could. I needed to confront him. I didn't know what to say, or what to do, but I knew I needed to find him at the very least. I'd been hit and burned and generally wounded in every place imaginable, but that day, I was hurt in a way I'd never experienced before.

I knew him. At least, enough to track him down before they did. He looked to me with the same cute smile he always did, but it made me sick to my stomach this time. Every smile he gave me was a lie in disguise. All of those years. I shake now even thinking about it.

“What's wrong, my beautiful Asta?” he asked.

“Is that even your real hair?”

“Uh. What?” He laughed. “Are you all right?”

I grabbed him by his shirt and slammed him against the wall. But this time, it wasn't in a good way. I glared straight into his eyes, and when I knew we were alone, I still didn't know what to say.

“How could you, Vic? I trusted you. How could you not tell me you were a wizard?”

He went pale. “I didn't hide it to hurt you, Asta. I did it to protect you. Protect us.”

“Lying is not protecting, Vic!”

“Isn't that what your employers do every day?”

I let him go. “They're coming for you. And I might not stop them.”

“Oh gods, no. I messed up? This is bad. Really bad. What are they going to do to me?”

“I don't know.”

I heard a sound then. I thought we'd be safe around the outskirts of our homes, but the spellbreakers always find their prey. I'd been there. A man stood with a sword in his hands.

“Miss Ahlgren,” he said. “Step aside. Victor is under arrest, and you know it, so don't get in the way. Magic must be vanquished.”

“So you're going to kill him?” I asked.

“I heard word they might use him. He's pretty good, so if they can bring him to our side...”

“You can't! That has nothing to do with vanquishing magic.”

“You wouldn't say that if it wasn't Victor. Come on. Don't make this harder than it needs to be.”

I'll spare you the intricacies of my dad's training in practice. I'd tell you the names of the stances I took, or the mistakes he made with his sword. In the end, however, it doesn't matter. The fact is that this spellbreaker dropped under the weight of my mace. He wasn't dead, but he was close. I hardly even remember the details, because all I felt was confusion and rage.

“They'll know,” Victor said to me. “You shouldn't have done that. Now they'll be after both of us. Oh. Who am I kidding? They'll be after me. You'll be fired, but they won't stop trying to catch me. And now they'll turn me against you for sure. They're like that.”

“Shut up,” I barked. “You don't get to talk, you damned liar!”

“I'm not as strong as they think I am. I don't even know any other wizards. Not anymore.”

“I said shut up.”

“Asta... I can't live like this anymore. I never wanted to be a wizard. I didn't ask. I have an idea that'll help us both. Please, just listen to me. They'll go easier on you if you at least tried to stop me. But I don't want to be captured and used. They might torture me, Asta.”

I nodded, and listened. I wish I hadn't.

“They'll keep coming,” he repeated.

The blade he gave me felt heavier than any mace I'd held.

“You can't ask me to do this,” I cried.

“You're a soldier, Asta. I trust nobody else but you to do this for me. They won't come for you. You'll be free. And so will I.”

I spent most of my life on a farm. Animals could be noisy, certainly, but for the most part, it was lonely and quiet. The fields were empty. The air was still. But on that day, I never felt more alone, and I've never experienced such a long, empty silence. I still haven't. I never will.

***

“Uh. Hehe. Boss?” Xeno asked after Asta remained mute for a long moment.

“The weather,” she whispered as she wiped her face. “There's a roof leak above me.”

“But, boss. It isn't raining.”

The three of them sat around a table. They were out in the middle of nowhere, at least, that's how most would describe it. The building was run-down, and the outside sported only remnants of fertile land. At some point in the past, the place was a farm, but it was no longer. It was a ruin housing two criminals and a runaway bull.