#The Little Owl Farm

[emeraldart]

Huntlow is like the Disney trope of the prince rescuing the girl from her little cottage to live in a fancy castle but if the girl rescued the prince from a fancy castle to live in a little cottage

[donnieluvsthings]

WHAT THE FUCK <- me every five seconds watching for the future

[erysium]

Some background designs I got to do for the end credits of Watching and Dreaming ✨

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

So I’m a minor (16 to be specific) and I frequently watch and read stuff with explicit sexual or 18+ content in it. I live in an extremely conservative Christian household and things like explicit fanfic are pretty much the only option I have for learning about sex that isn’t abstinence only. I do feel bad about it, especially when I see adults online say stuff like “oh i watched lots of inappropriate things as a teen that i really shouldn’t have” and it makes me feel like I’m ruining myself in a way that I won’t realize until I’m an adult? Right now I don’t see what the big deal is but i get the feeling that when i’m 24 or something I’ll wake up one day and be ashamed of this for some reason i’m not mature enough to know yet. Should I just stop and wait until I’m 18 to continue or what?

hi anon,

okay. I'm gonna hit you with something:

turning 18 does not actually change the way you feel about porn or sex or anything. the difference between being seventeen and 364 days and being 18 is nonexistent. there's not a magical switch that changes you as a person; that comes from lived experience. if you're 18 and your experience is still that porn and smut and what have you i something that you should feel bad about, it's still going to feel that way and a birthday won't change that.

look, the whole notion of "I saw [x] that I shouldn't have when I was young" is like. okay. so you saw something that was a little mature for you that you didn't quite get? awesome. did you die? no. most people's hangups about sexuality don't come from seeing a rogue titty when they were a teenager, they come from the culture that person was raised in that made seeing a rogue titty feel like something to be ashamed of instead of a completely natural part of life.

story time! when I teach my 4th-6th grade OWL classes (Our Whole Lives, great human development program) I always start by holding a meeting with the kids' parents. I've been doing this for seven years, and every time without fail some of the parents will recall seeing porn for the first time as a kid. these guys were kids when printed porn magazines were still a thing, so they were discovering them in all kinds of places - the bedrooms of their parents or their friends' parents, at bus stops, in the woods, once even stowed in some farm equipment. and they remember it feeling illicit and exciting, sure, and possibly making them confused or even horny for the first time in their young lives, but like... that's it. none of these people are irreparably damaged by seeing porn. in fact, they've grown up to be the kind of people who go out of their way to make sure their young kids are enrolled in a queer-friendly, body-positive, diversity-embracing sex ed class to counter stereotypes and misinformation they might receive elsewhere.

looking at things that arouse you is morally neutral. it can be a great way to help you learn about what turns you on, and even if it's not the best source of factual, realistic depictions of sex, it can still help you discover things - hell, I only figured out what the clitoris was by reading Young Justice fanfic (shout out Snaibsel).

you can't ruin yourself, at any age, with the media you like to consume. what makes you uncomfortable and anxious is the attitude you've been taught to have about that media, which is something that has to be actively unlearned, because it's certainly not going to just disappear on its own when you become a legal adult.

tl;dr obviously no one is making you watch porn and you shouldn't if it makes you uncomfortable, but if you drop it right now and come back when you're 18 don't expect to feel any different if you haven't done any more unpacking re: the conservative Christianity of it all.

[reasonsforhope]

"Abby Allen has no problem with her neighbours peering over her luxuriant hedges to see what she is up to on her farm.

For years she has been carrying out ad hoc experiments with wildlife and farming techniques; in her lush Devon fields native cattle graze alongside 400-year-old hedgerows, with birds and butterflies enjoying the species-rich pasture.

Under the environmental land management scheme (ELMS), introduced by the government in 2021, those experiments were finally being funded. “We have a neighbour who has always been more of an intensive farmer,” she says, but he is now considering leaving fields unploughed to help the soil. “It genuinely is having such a huge impact in changing people’s mindsets who traditionally would never have thought about farming in this way.”

The new nature payments scheme followed the UK’s exit from the EU, when the government decided to scrap the common agricultural payments scheme, which gave a flat subsidy dependent on the number of acres a farmer managed. In its place came ELMS, which pays farmers for things such as planting hedges, sowing wildflowers for birds to feed on and leaving corners of their land wild for nature.

But these schemes are now at threat of defunding, as the Labour government has refused to commit to the £2.4bn a year spending pot put in place by the previous Conservative government. With spending tight and the chancellor, Rachel Reeves, cutting back on infrastructure and hinting at tax rises, a cut to the ELMS scheme may be on her list.

However, government data released last week found the schemes were working to tentatively bring nature back to England’s farmland. Butterflies, bees and bats are among the wildlife being boosted by ELMS, with birds among the chief beneficiaries, particularly ones that largely feed on invertebrates. An average of 25% more breeding birds were found in areas utilising the eco-friendly schemes.

...there are also farmers who welcome the schemes. Allen says the ELMS has helped her farm provide data and funds to expand and improve the good things they were doing for nature. “Some of the money available around things like soil testing and monitoring – instead of us going ‘we think these are the right things to do and providing these benefits,’ we can now measure it. The exciting thing now is there is money available to measure and monitor and kind of prove that you’re doing the right things. And so then you can find appropriate funding to do more of that.”

Allen, who is in the Nature Friendly Farming Network, manages a network of farms in England, most of which are using the ELMS. This includes chicken farms where the poultry spend their life outside rather than in sheds and other regenerative livestock businesses...

Mark Spencer was an environment minister until 2024 when he lost his seat, but now spends more time in the fields admiring the fruits of his and his family’s labour. He says that a few years of nature-friendly agriculture has restored lapwings and owls.

“On the farm, I haven’t seen lapwings in any number for what feels like a whole generation. You know, as a kid, when I was in my early teens, you’d see lapwings. We used to call them peewits. We’d see them all the time, and they sort of disappeared.

“But then, me and my neighbours changed the way we did cropping, left space in the fields for them to nest, and suddenly they returned. You need to have a piece of land where you’re not having mechanical machinery go over it on a regular basis, because otherwise you destroy the nest. We’ve also got baby owls in our owl box now for the first time in 15 years. They look mega, to be honest, these little owls, little balls of fluff. It is rewarding.”"

-via The Guardian, August 23, 2024

[seoulmatez]

— oh, is little miss city girl coming to stay?

a masterlist of all the fics in my farmhand!boothill au! all pieces are written with a female reader in mind and additional content warnings can be found at the beginning of each individual fic :)

• little miss city girl

you’ve come from the city to get away from the bustling environment and visit your grandpa on his farm. looks like he hired some help since the last time you were here and the new farmhand is nothing but trouble…

• fruits of labor

a trip into town offers you a new perspective when it comes to the insufferable farmhand and those feelings you’ve been pushing down are beginning to bubble.

• under the summer sun

a walk around the property proves that even the ever responsible, always moving farmhand needs the occasional break, too.

• at your beck and call

after a horse riding accident, you see yet another new side of boothill. it's starting to feel like maybe, just maybe, you were wrong when you labeled him "nothing but trouble."

• night owl

with some tough love encouragement from a friend back home, you begin to consider the possibility of telling boothill about the feelings he stirs up in you.

• as the truth comes to light

a couple of much-needed pushes and a long drive through town set you on the path to finally come clean about your feelings for boothill. what will happen after you utter that confession?

• in the moonlight — finale!

boothill takes you on your first date and you finally figure out just what it is that he has in store for you.

listed below are extras to the series! they do not follow the main plot and take place after boothill and reader are in an established relationship :)

• adoration avenue

your first time sleeping in the same bed as boothill.

• my girl

a night out with boothill leaves boothill a little jealous.

more to be announced!

[fallingsatellive]

Hi this is a positivity post regarding alterhuman diet dysphoria versus actual biology

(unless you already know these things)

To herbivore nonhumans who don't want to/can't do a vegan or vegetarian diet but feel dysphoric about being able to digest meat:

Herbivorous animals are not unable to digest meat.

Animal matter is actually easier for a body to process than plant matter, and herbivorous species need very complex digestive systems in order to support their lifestyles. This is why cows have four stomachs; why horses practically go into critical system failure if they get even a little bit sick. Animals that live mostly by grazing actually still do need nutrients that carnivores and omnivores get through their natural diets, which is why farming supply stores sell salt licks for animals. In the wild herbivores will quite often find ways to sneak some meat into their diets by eating bugs or small vertebrates, if you didn't already know about the fun fact of deer eating baby birds. "Obligate herbivore" meaning an animal that can ONLY physically digest plants is not a real ecological term the way "obligate carnivore" meaning animal that can ONLY physically digest meat is, though you might see it in other usages (i.e., referring to an animal that relies on a plant-based diet for all of its nutrients).

If a wild deer was given access to human society, they would probably not opt for veganism for connection with their true species; they would more likely appreciate having a way to get sodium so easily. This isn't to shame anyone who does choose a vegan/vegetarian diet for species euphoria reasons, but more to reassure folks who can't, you aren't less of an herbivore.

To carnivore nonhumans who feel dysphoric that their body can't digest raw meat like wild carnivores can:

It can!

The reason you don't want to be eating raw meat like a wolf or stoat or monitor lizard is because you will get sick or you will contract a parasite, which might sound like just a different reason to feel disconnected from your species, but here's the main two things:

1. The actuality is that wild wolves and stoats and monitor lizards DO get sick and contract parasites. This is often how wolves and stoats and monitor lizards die in the wild and why ones in captivity, being fed parasite-free meat and having illnesses treated, live longer. There are raw meats you can eat safely, you just have to know where they're sourced from and that they're guaranteed not to have risks! That's why sushi is a thing, and why people say you can technically eat raw cut (not ground) beef but not pork or chicken. Cooked meat is also often tastier and easier for the body to process (cit.: Grug et al. 780,000 BCE) so that's why humans have loved their medium-well steak since they came up with it. And 2. wild predators are "able to eat raw meat" mostly because they killed it, so it's fresh and hasn't been sitting around able to pick up bacteria, the way raw meat you get at a grocery store would have. This is why a lot of prey animals have a "play dead" defense mechanism: most predators do not want to eat something that's already dead, because it might get them sick.

If a wild owl was given access to human society, they would probably not desire only the rawest of meats for connection with their true species; they would more likely appreciate having access to food that had all the pathogens cleaned and/or scorched out of it.

[queenie-the-court-jester]

where the birds and fish gather

A/n: my silly fish and bird hybrids! Few sexual references but mdni! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE ASK ABOUT ANY OF THEM I'M DESOERATE FOR ASKS- ignore my grammar haha

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ- ︶︶︶︶༉‧ ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ- ︶︶︶︶༉‧

★ sydney the cockatoo

sydney's the most mischievous bastard out of all of them. Your watch is missing? In his nest. Your necklace? His nest aswell. Your hat? He's wearing it. You're never getting it back. He sees something shiny, it's in his little claws. Like all the avian hybrids, his arms are wings and he's covered in feathers. Having a human face with little beak like lips. His legs are bird legs. Black eyes staring at you from his nest in a tree. Be careful where you step after any surprise snow in's. He's probably burying himself in it. 5'4

★ Evangeline the peahen

The elegant, sophisticated, coy, angelic Evangeline. Gabriel's mate but she despises his guts, similar to princess, she much prefers you. Often dragging you to their nest and squabbling with Gabriel when he tried taking you away. She may not be as pretty as he is outside, but she certainly is Inside. Proudly showing off her brown little feathers. 5'6 brown straight hair, black eyes and a little pale

★ gabriel the white peacock

Egotistical bastard. He hates his wife for being so ugly, but he does think you are extraordinarily beautiful. He could definitely envision putting his clutch inside you. He'll figure a way out, don't you worry! An albino peacock male with red eyes, white feathers and extremely pale. 5'7

★ fajarah the ring necked parakeet

she's sydney's little partner in crime, but lately she's mellowed out more. Now preferring to watch the koi mers swim around and munch on some chips she stole from the main house. Tilting her head curiously at something she finds interesting. Bright green feathers and hair, black eyes and tan skin. 5'2

★ foolish the owl finch

often seen in the fields with the cows and bulls, he's quiet and prefers to watch. Hopping around quickly and pecking things that catch his eye. There's not much to say about him since he keeps to himself alot, but he does seem to like the biscuits you bring for him.

★ simon the tyto alba

Simon is deaf and mute, having been found wandering around the farm as a little chick. Now the farmers are looking for any way to help him with his hearing long term, but he seems to have adjusted to looking for any vibrations on the ground. Pale and white hair,black eyes, very pointy beak like lips

★ the koimer quintuplets

There's nothing much different between the quintuplets except their different patterns. Just that tancho is the leader and more mature, Kiko is more curious and childish, Hime is sweet and reserved, tsu is a chatterbox and humble, koromo is loud and nosy

★ mason the "lake monster" (crocodile)

Mason is like an older brother figure for the quintuplets, teaching them Little bits of English and watching you interact with them from the depths of the lake or hidden behind some underwater trees in the lake. You may not always see him, but he's always there. Silently watching. Messy grungy hair, green eyes, and has a light tan. 6'4

[shadyufo]

how do you find stuff in your creek?

Hi Anon!

I just walk around and keep my eyes peeled for neat stuff! It's a pretty big creek and there are lots of large gravel bars all along it.

This creek runs across the back edge of my property and my neighbor beside me is very nice and she's fine with me exploring over on her part too so I've got about half a mile of creek I can hike around.

It usually floods pretty frequently (not uncommon for it to get up high enough where water would be over top of the Jeep in the above photo) so that always shifts the gravel bars around and uncovers new stuff to find. Here's a few in situ finds so you can see what they look like when I find them—some old tumbled bits of glass and pottery, a cow tooth, and a deer cannon bone.

I'll sift around in the gravel sometimes if I find one spot with a lot of stuff but usually I just pick up what I find on the surface.

You never know what will turn up down there! Tumbled glass and pottery, animal bones, fossils, tools, toys, farm stuff, fishing gear, found a big owl decoy one time, and I picked up a nice baseball bat the other day—just all sorts of random odds and ends wash in!

This little partial porcelain skull is still one of my all time favorite finds.

Sorry for the long post but I adore this creek and am always glad for a chance to ramble about it haha. Thanks for the message, Anon! <3

[kkcharm]

I'm tired of wolf x bunny reader. Like, there's so many other concepts of prey and predador that i never saw someone writing it.

Orca x manatee This is my favorit because one is called an assasin while manatees are just little guys that can't defend themselves, manatees are barely hunted by other animals so i like to think that if they face the orca demi-human they would't reconize the danger.

Naga x mouse/capybara the fact that some anaconda variations can reach 12 METERS while the biggest rat possible is not even 50 cm while capybaras are around 50cm to 62cm . THE SIZE DIFFERENCE.

Polar bear x penguin little fem reader forcing the polar bear to sit on a rock since the males penguins do it to hatch the egg, poor guy confuse and scared to crack it

Owl/Hawk/eagle x mouse/small bird/bats An big ass bird with a hummingbird/bat reader or a little mouse attached on the big bird back as they fly.

Whale x jelly fish how cute would be?! A kind giant and his little shiny parther.

Jaguar/coyote/Wolf etc x sheep i love jaguars so much 😭 sheeps also don't have any defense metod, if their pastor get distracted the predador can easly attack them, even better if the sheep has lived only in a farm and know nothing about the outside dangers

If no one start writing new concepts predator x prey i will write those myself.

Sorry for any grammatical mistakes, too lazy to check 💋

[in1-nutshell]

(One I am sorry if I am flooding your ask box is just I really love how you write) maybe old Predacon buddy get transported into the Earth spark universe how would they interact with Megatron from that universe possible hostility and will possibly gush over the terrans(is that how I say it?) Just overall more grandpa vibes

Old Predacon Buddy is going to start their own passport or scrapbook filled with their travels to other dimensions with all of their alternative grandkids.

Hope you enjoy!

Bot Buddy the Old Predacon meeting the Terrans and Megatron

SFW, Platonic, Cybertronian reader

TFP/TFE

Buddy was going to start keeping a personal travel log on all the different places outside their universe if this keeps up.

One minute they were peacefully watching Bumblebee and Bulkhead spar in the training room.

The next thing they knew they were thrown into a small clearing in the middle of the woods.

It was a peaceful piece of land if they were being honest.

They knew they needed to start thinking about how to get back home, again, but the scenery caught their optics.

Full of nice trees and moss, a perfect spot to nap.

Snap!

Buddy turns their helm to spot two small Bot and human girl and boy.

“…Hello?”--Buddy

“Hi!”—All of them

Buddy, a little stunned by the response, waves their tail.

The little girl and the bot next to her come closer.

The other two come after wards.

“We heard a large thud noise and found you here.”—Small red bot

“Did you now?”--Buddy

“Bet that was you making a crash landing.”—Small human girl

“You could say that. These portals aren’t known for giving bots nice landings.”--Buddy

“Portals? Like a spacebridge?”—Small human boy

“…Yes, like a spacebridge. How do you know what a space bridge is?”--Buddy

“Dad and Dad 2 talked about them.”—Small red bot

“Dad…Dad 2?”--Buddy

“Yeah well, Dad talked about it in the comics.”—Small white bot

“Excuse me, comics?”--Buddy

“Yeah, these things!”—Small white bot

Buddy is shown a comic with Optimus and Megatron fighting on the front page.

“Do… do all humans know about our species?”--Buddy

“Duh. You’re not from around here, are you?”—Small white bot

“I’m not. I’m from another dimension.”--Buddy

“Wow! So Cool!”—Small human girl

“Mo, they need to get back home.”--Small human boy

Buddy tilting their helm a bit.

“Mo? Is that your name little one?”--Buddy

“Yep! This is my big brother Robbie and our other brother Thrash and sister Twitch.”--Mo

“Brother… and sister…”--Buddy

“We found them in a cave, well more like created.”--Robbie

Buddy sitting down putting a servo over their face.

Buddy vents hard.

“Hold on a second kiddo. This…this is a lot to process at the moment.”--Buddy

“Robbie! Mo! Where did you guys go?”

“Wait I found them!”

Three more bots come from the brush.

Buddy just stares at them.

The orange and green one transform into their beast modes and stand in front of group. The large purple one looks like they are ready to fight.

“Who are you!”—Green owl bot

“Nightshade wait that bot’s friendly!”--Mo

“How do you know? They look like they can eat you whole Mo!”—Large purple one

“We should judge a book by its cover Hashtag.”—Small dinobot

“If it helps, I can give you my name. But you must promise not to ask questions about it.”--Buddy

“Deal.”--Mo

“Buddy.”--Buddy

“…Your name is Buddy?”--Robbie

“Yep.”--Buddy

“…okay! These are our other siblings, Hashtag, Nightshade and Jawbreaker.”--Thrash

Buddy nodding before taking notice of how young these bots looked.

“You said you found your siblings in a cave, correct? How long were they there?”--Buddy

“I think less than a year ago.”--Mo

Buddy looks like they are about to have a stroke.

Mo mentioned that their mother and father would want to meet them. Maybe even help them find a way back home.

As the little group walked towards the farm, Buddy followed making sure to watch each one carefully.

There was no way that these literal sparkling’s were leaving their sight.

Alex and Dot were extremely surprised to see the kids bring in a giant mechanical dragon home.

They looked even bigger than Megatron!

“Kids… who’s your new friend here?”--Alex

Buddy bowing their helm a little in respect.

“Hello there. My name is Buddy. I am an Autobot from another dimension. I fell into your world through some sort of portal.”--Buddy

“Wow…”--Alex

“Your name is Buddy?”--Dot

Buddy venting a bit.

“Yes Ma’am. That is my name it suites my personality, I’ve been told.”--Buddy

Dot looks at her kids.

“Did any of you—”--Dot

“We didn’t bring the giant dragon here!”--Thrash

“I am a Predacon little one.”--Buddy

“What’s a Predacon?”--Jawbreaker

“…I’ll explain it later. Umm…”--Buddy

“I’m Dot, this is my husband, Alex.”--Dot

Alex looking starstruck at Buddy.

“Hello—”--buddy

“Can you fly?”--Alex

“Dad!”—the kids

“Alex!”--Dot

Buddy chuckling a bit before dipping their helm to the ground in front of him.

“Would you like to see for yourself?”--Buddy

“I like them!”--Alex

“Can I go too!”--Mo

“And me!”--Robbie

“And me!”--Hashtag

“One at a time little ones. Dot? Is there someone you can contact that could--”--Buddy

“Already calling the big guys. They should be here any minute.”--Dot

Buddy was pleased and agreed to wait.

In the meantime, Buddy had already taken an oath to protect the young ones with their life while they were still here.

Buddy also wondered whose alternatives they were going to run into this time around.

Buddy played around with the little ones when a yellow sports car came speeding in and transformed.

“Dot! I got the call—SWEET SOLUS PRIME!”--Bumblebee

Buddy turning to the yellow bot with a happy grin on their face plate.

Buddy easily walks up to him with four of the Malto bots hanging from their frame.

“Bumblebee! My, my I haven’t met an alternative of you yet. And your voice!”--Buddy

Buddy looking around his neck cables.

“Not a scratch!”--Buddy

“Can someone explain!”--Bumblebee

“Oh sorry! Where are my manners. My name is Buddy, I am an Autobot from another dimension and Dot dear here was nice enough to contact some bots that could potentially help me with my problem.”--Buddy

“…”--Bumblebee

“It’s a lot to take in. Take your time little one.”--Buddy

Did Bee feel a bit intimidated about the giant dragon talking to him in such high regards.

Yes.

But at the same time, he didn’t.

Despite the grand size of the bot, they were a softy.

They really lived up to their name.

Soon enough a familiar truck comes in.

“Is that Prime?”--Buddy

“Oh yeah Optimus is here.”--Dot

“That’s—”--Bumblebee

A grey helicopter starts hovering above the truck.

“…Bumblebee. Who’s that?”--Buddy

“Megatron.”--Bumblebee

Buddy nearly snaps their neck at how fast they look at him.

“Excuse me?!”--Buddy

“What?”--Dot

“Megatron? Here? The leader of the Decepticons?”--Buddy

“Oh, he isn’t a Con anymore. He’s one of us now.”--Bumblebee

Buddy’s wings drop as the kids go welcome the Prime and ex-warlord.

“Your war is…is it over?”--Buddy

Bee and Dot look at Buddy who seemed to have aged dramatically in the few seconds of hearing that news.

“Yeah, its over…I take it yours isn’t?”--Bumblebee

Buddy shaking their helm.

“What about the other Decepticon’s?”--Buddy

“Some are doing their own thing and others do cause trouble from time to time.”--Bumblebee

Buddy huffs a bit.

“Next thing you’re going to tell me is that Starscream is the leader.”--Buddy

“I mean—”--Bumblebee

“This is the part where you tell me that isn’t true…”--Buddy

“Well…”--Dot

“…please say sike right now…”--Buddy

 Prime and Megatron start walking over.

Buddy straightens themselves and transforms to go shake the Leaders servos.

“Optimus. Megatron.”--Buddy

“That’s us. And who might you be stranger?”--Megtron

Buddy suppressing a tiny sob.

“Buddy, sir. My name is Buddy.”--Buddy

“Strange name, but it looks like it suites you well.”--Optimus

“Thank you Prime. I take it that you two can help me get back home?”--Buddy

“We will do our best Buddy.”--Optimus

Buddy smiles at the two.

“That’s all I could ask for. Thank you.”--buddy

Buddy eventually sat down and talked to the two mechs while more bots were coming their way.

Buddy met the alternatives of some fellow bots they knew or had known throughout the war.

They nearly got teary eyed when they met this alternative of Elita One.

Buddy found it a bit hard to connect the dots between this version of Arcee and Wheeljack.

According to Wheeljack, it was going to take a couple of days to make sure that Buddy would get sent to the right dimension.

Buddy didn’t mind too much as they spent most of their time with the kids.

These kids lived for Buddy’s play time and stories.

“Then what did you do?”--Jawbreaker

“Well kiddo, I took that hammer and threw it at our Commander. He was able to help our Wheeljack and Bulkhead while I managed to get us some cover from the Vechicons.”--Buddy

“Cool!”--Thrash

“Buddy, I have a question.”--Nightshade

“What might that be Nightshade?”--Buddy

“You mentioned once that you were a gladiator of sorts right?”--Nightshade

“Yes, that was during my younger years.”--Buddy

“How young though?”--Nightshade

“Hmm… probably around the first hundreds of years give or take.”--Buddy

“…”—The kids

“Kids?”--Buddy

“How old are you?”--Robbie

“…How about another story?”--Buddy

“How old!”--Twitch

“Storytime!”--Buddy

“How old Buddy!”--Hashtag

“Dot! Restrain you kids!”—Buddy

Soon enough it was time for Buddy to go back home.

Buddy made sure they hugged every single one of their new friends before going close to the portal.

Buddy made sure to give extras as they were leaving.

Buddy came out of the portal and into the halls of the base.

Only to get immediately hit in the helm by a lob ball.

“OW! Who threw that!”--Buddy

“Buddy!?”--Miko

Miko starts running to Buddy in the Apex armor.

“Wait Miko the armor—”--Buddy

Miko jumps into Buddy’s open arms.

Buddy falls backwards with a hard thud.

“Miko, I’m not as young as I was before.”--Buddy

Miko doesn’t listen, too busy hugging Buddy.

“You need to stop disappearing like that.”--Miko

“Trust me if I had a choice I would stay with the team. The universe seems to have different plans. At least I always end back home.”--buddy

“You got that right.”--Miko

[venerablemonk27]

I found the Snowy Owl! Using the recent sightings reported in the area as my guide, I went driving around Dane, WI yesterday. I stopped to scan a corn field with my binoculars and spotted this guy perched on a fence post.

[ID: A male Snowy Owl sits on a wooden fence post and stares directly at the camera. He is almost entirely white, with a few brown flecks on the wings and breast. His eyes are yellow and partly closed. A light snow falls around the Owl. End ID]

I knew right away the large white bird on the post was the Snowy I was after, so I quickly grabbed my camera and got out to find a good spot to set up. Of course, as soon as I got the bird in frame he decided to fly up to the roof peak of a farm building further away. Even so, I sat down and took a few long-distance bursts in case that was only look I would get. Then I noticed that there was a house among the farm buildings. If someone was home maybe they'd let me take a closer look?

[ID: A male Snowy Owl sits on a wooden fence post and looks into the distance to the left. He is almost entirely white, with a few brown flecks on the wings and breast. His eyes are yellow and partly closed. A light snow falls around the Owl. End ID]

Just as I'd hoped, the folks living there were home and they were happy to let me onto their property for a chance at a better photo. They even pointed out a good spot behind a concrete wall where I could stand totally out of sight of the corn field. It turned out to be such a good blind that all the shots in this post were taken there. And just as we were talking, the Owl flew back down to that same fence post!

[ID: A male Snowy Owl sits on a wooden fence post and looks into the distance to the right. He is almost entirely white, with a few brown flecks on the wings and breast. His eyes are yellow and partly closed. A light snow falls around the Owl. End ID]

He was very cooperative, sitting mostly still while I fiddled with settings and let the auto-focus pick between the snow and the post. I figure he was hunting, scanning the field for little creatures. Then he did a little preening and stretched his neck before taking flight!

[ID: A male Snowy Owl takes flight. He is almost entirely white, with a few brown flecks on the wings and breast. His eyes are yellow and partly closed. His wings are fully extended upward and his shaggy legs hang down below, showing just a hint of black talons. Its eyes are closed to slits. A light snow falls around the Owl. End ID]

[ID: A male Snowy Owl flies low over a snow-covered corn field. He is almost entirely white, with a few brown flecks on the wings and breast. His wings are extended downward, showing the full pattern of white and brown flecks on the flight feathers. His eyes are closed to slits. A light snow falls around the Owl. End ID]

He didn't immediately pounce on anything, instead wheeling up toward a tree across the field. I thought he would land up there, but instead he flushed a smaller dark bird and started chasing it! Zooming in on the photos of the sortie revealed that the enemy was either a Cooper's or a Sharp-shinned Hawk. I wish I could have seen how that encounter turned out, but they flew out of sight across the field.

[ID: A male Snowy Owl chases a hawk in the distance, flying through the snowfall near a large barn. End ID]

Even without a high-speed pursuit, seeing the Snowy Owl so close was my top birding moment of the year so far. Many thanks to Dean and Deb for welcoming me onto their property and making this moment possible!

[gloomwitchwrites]

Frozen Ground: Part 1 (Din Djarin x Female Reader)

Content & Warnings: romantic fluff, love at first sight, Mandalorian culture

Word Count: 5.4k

Din travels to a farming planet to recruit a reclusive group of Mandalorians to help retake Mandalore. The snowy season is starting, and the locals are preparing for their winter observance. While waiting for the Mandalorian covert to come to a decision, Din spends time with the local population, finding a bit of comfort with a particular someone.

A/N: Part of the Winter 2023 Collection

Part 2

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // winter 2023 masterlist

Mando’a Translations: buir – father, mother Mando’ade – Mandalorians (plural) vod – brother, sister, comrade

The N1 Starfighter exits hyperspace and cruises through Itera airspace.

Grogu snoozes softly in Din’s lap. His small body is curled up in a ball, and his face is turned into Din’s chest plate as he slumbers. The foundling has been asleep the entire way to Itera, and he shows no sign of waking any time soon.

Din glances away from his foundling and out the N1’s viewport. A small twang of nervousness coils in the pit of his stomach as he observes the quickly approaching planet. It’s not the planet itself that worries Din, but why he was sent here in the first place. It is the task that Bo-Katan Kryze placed upon him with confidence that sits heavy on his shoulders.

Bo-Katan is uniting the clans. She is calling back the tribes in an effort to reclaim Mandalore. She heard a rumor that a reclusive tribe of Mandalorians dwell on Itera. Din is supposed to find them, and convince them to come back with him to Nevarro.

That is all the information he has. Bo-Katan had little intel to give. Din has no idea if these Mandalorians are more like his tribe, or if they lean more towards the ideals that Bo-Katan and her kin follow.

As Mandalorians, this tribe on Itera should welcome him. But Din knows that isn’t always the case. It wasn’t that long ago that Din had his own misgivings against fellow Mandalorians who walked the path differently than he.

When he first met Bo-Katan Kryze and her Nite Owls, Din shunned them. Even when they stepped in to save his foundling, and then later when a group of Quarren attacked him, Din was still reluctant to engage with them.

It’s not his proudest moment, and since then, much about his life has changed. The way he sees the galaxy, and his understanding of what it means to be a Mandalorian has shifted significantly in the last few years. While he holds tightly to his ideals, he knows that his way is not the only way.

Mandalorians should not hide in the dark any longer.

The cloudy expanse of Itera becomes clearer as Din cruises closer. Itera is a fertile farming planet located on the edge of the Middle Rim. Din rummaged around in some public achieves to scrounge up any information he could about it. According to the information he did manage to locate, Itera is relatively peaceful and mostly inhabited by small farming communities.

Even though Bo-Katan lacked information on who these Mandalorians are, she was able to provide Din with an estimated range of coordinates. She told him that they might be located within this range, but wasn’t entirely sure if her intel was reliable.

He’s worked with less.

Din punches in the numbers and the navigation system focuses in on a small bit of land in the northern hemisphere.

The N1’s engine purrs, and Grogu turns over in Din’s lap. The foundling does not wake.

Din’s ship breaks through the atmosphere and effortlessly transitions into the gray cloud cover. The clouds spit Din out over dreary farmland. Below him, droids and people work the land.

Din does not see any buildings that indicate a settlement. He checks the navigation system again and it reveals his suspicions. The coordinates Bo-Katan gave him cover too much land. He’ll need to tighten the search.

“Kriff me,” mutters Din, as he clears the coordinates from the nav system. “R5, scan the surface. Let’s find civilization.”

R5 chirps, and then a little antenna pops out of its head, spinning slowly in a circle. Din reduces his speed over the farmland, waiting for R5 to give him an answer. After a few minutes, the antenna retreats, and then the navigation system lights up with new coordinates.

Din follows the set path. While most of what Din sees is farmland, buildings start to appear in small intervals. At first, it’s just one or two, and then a cluster at a time. Before long, the wall of a settlement appears. There is open land to the left that Din deicides to land on.

He brings the N1 down softly.

Grogu still doesn’t stir. The little womprat has his right hand in his mouth, and a little line of drool runs down the back Grogu’s palm. Sighing, Din wipes it away.

“R5, what’s the temperature outside?” asks Din quietly as he watches a few swirls of snow drift down from the gray clouds. They land on the glass of the N1 and immediately melt.

R5 responds in a series of binary and Din sighs.

It’s far too cold for Grogu to be walking around for long periods of time. The snowy season has arrived on this planet, and Grogu will need something warmer to wear.

Slowly, Din releases the hatch and cold air drifts in. Using the blanket from Grogu’s pram, Din wraps the foundling in it, gently laying him down in the cockpit seat. Din steps out onto the wing and then the hard ground as the hatch closes.

He turns to R5. “Keep an eye on him while I’m gone.” R5 beeps in reply and Din heads toward the open gates.

The wood wall of the settlement seems more decorative than functional, roughly stopping at Din’s chest. Once Din approaches the entrance, he notices that there are no gates at all. It’s entirely open.

Strolling down the main street, Din realizes rather quickly that no one avoids him. It’s the exact opposite. Every person he passes greets Din with a friendly “hello” or nodding of the head before going about their day.

It’s bizarre. Strange. And it momentarily disorients him.

Din thought that he might ask around, see if he could find someone willing to talk to him. But every friendly face only causes him to question who he needs to speak to on locating the Mandalorian covert. No one shies away or avoids looking directly at his helmet. Each person is bold and unafraid of him.

Is the Mandalorian covert known to these people? Do they interact with them frequently?

Perhaps. It would explain why no one seems frightened of him.

Din enters deeper into the settlement, seeking out a cantina or public establishment where he might find information. Not finding any such place on the main road, Din tracks back to the very front of the settlement, deciding to head east and take a look around.

Rounding a corner, he hears the distinct sound of laughter. It’s not one person, or even a few, but a low roar like a small crowd. Din keeps walking, tracking the sound, coming across a small building that hardly looks big enough to hold a drinking establishment. In addition, the door is just red fabric handing from the top of the door frame.

The laughter comes again, and it’s much louder than before. He’s in the right spot.

With all the confidence Din can muster, he strides up to the curtain, pushing it aside and he steps into the building.

Din comes to a grinding halt, nearly tripping on his own feet.

This is not a cantina or anything similar.

A group of women, nearly fifteen in total, occupy the space. They all have large canvas sacks next to them, each one full of something different. Some look like they’re full of flower petals while others appear to hold bright red berries. The women vary in age. Most of them are older than Din, but there are a few who look to be about his age, give or take a few years.

They glance up but keep working, several of them smiling softly at him.

Din feels like an unwanted intruder even though the women appear calm and indifferent to his presence. He mumbles a “sorry” intended to back out the way he came, but the moment his boot slides backward, one of the women stands, her full attention on him.

“How can I help you, Mandalorian?”

You dust a few petals off your apron, missing the one in your hair, and approach Din, hands clasped in front of you. Din’s heart temporarily stutters to a stop before revving into a thudding beat he can feel in his ears. You’re pretty, but that isn’t the only thing he notices. You’re delicate lines and curves appeal to him in a way that trigger’s his protective instinct.

The flash of feeling, this need Din suddenly exhibits flashes bright and hot before his brain catches up and tries to smother it down to cooling embers.

“Excuse me. I didn’t mean to interrupt.” Din tries to back out again but you only push in, and Din’s hand relexify forms a fist in an attempt to thwart the growing need to touch you.

“There is no interruption. How can I be of service to you?” Your head tilts to the right slightly, and the eagerness on your face sends blood to his groin.

Din’s eyes roam all over your body, but his eyes keep going back to the lone petal that’s tangled in the strands of your hair.

The other women still work, none of them glancing in Din’s direction. He decides to seek help, knowing it might not do much.

“There is a Mandalorian covert on this planet that I’m searching for. Do you know where I might find them?”

“Oh,” you murmur. Your eyes round slightly, and your lips part in surprise. “I didn’t realize—I thought you—” You shake your head and the petal in your hair stays put.

“Is there anyone here that might know?”

The gentle surprise morphs into amusement. “Everyone knows where they are.” The corners of your mouth curve up into a soft smile and Din nearly melts under that gaze. He is so absorbed in your beauty that your words are the last thing to catch up to him.

Everyone knows where they are?

Din does not have the chance to follow-up, you’re already talking, telling him exactly what he needs to know. “Just to the north of here. There’s a forested area where the covert lives.”

This is unusual, and Din is slightly unsure whether or not he can trust what he might find once he ventures in that direction.

“Do you know where exactly?”

You shake your head. “We do not go in. They like their privacy, and we are respectful of that.”

This is better news. The two groups must interact frequently. It would explain why everyone in town isn’t afraid of him.

“You’re not from around here?” you ask, curiosity tinging your tone.

“No,” replies Din. “I’m not.”

Your gaze softens. “If no one has, allow me to formally welcome you.”

Without thinking—without pausing to reconsider—Din reaches toward you, his gloved fingers plucking the petal from your hair. He presents it to you, open palmed.

Delicately, you lift it, rubbing it between your fingers. With your gaze on the petal, Din takes a step back, the curtain brushing against his back. You glance up, and Din inclines his head, disappearing quickly before he does something he’ll regret.

Din still burns beneath his armor even after he arrives back at the N1. Grogu is still sleeping, and his ship is entirely untouched. Din is careful with the foundling when he settles back into the cockpit.

He relays the information to R5 who promptly scans the area, sending new coordinates to the navigation system. Once clear, Din follows the trail north, finding the forest you mentioned. Din circles around a few times, eventually settling on a flat spot of land just outside the tree line. Din lowers the N1 to the planet’s surface. Grogu stirs in his lap but doesn’t wake.

He leaves Grogu behind again with R5, knowing that he can come back for Grogu later. The droid will look after him until Din can assess the situation.

As Din approaches the tree line, he pauses, surveying the ground around him. At first glance there are no footprints of even animal prints. He engages the scanner in his helmet. The moment it switches on, his screen lights up with glowing boot prints. They are everywhere, moving in so many directions that Din cannot find a pattern.

Frowning, Din switches over to another scanner. This one seeks out what only Mandalorians leave behind for others of their kind to find. He sweeps the scanner over the ground, and then the trees. He comes up empty.

Sighing, Din starts walking, stepping past the tree line and tries again, this time doing a slow sweep of the ground and trees. The hard ground crunches under his boots, and it is incredibly quiet, the only sound is the whistling wind.

On a tree in the distance, a soft glow catches Din’s attention in the scanner. He pauses, takes one step back for a better view. It’s a glowing Mythosaur with an arrow beneath it pointing to the right.

This is his lead. This is his break. You were telling the truth.

Din heads toward the glowing symbol and then follows the direction the arrow indicates, scanning the area for any other markers. He locates another that directs him deeper into the trees. It leads to a large rock formation. The stone slabs are layered over each other like a twisted crown.

There, glowing bright against the gray rock, is another Mythosaur.

“Hail, vod.”

Din whirls around, his hand on his blaster. The only thing that stays his hand from drawing the weapon is the use of the word vod.

A male Mandalorian drops from a tree branch and strides forward, stopping a few feet away from Din. His armor is dented in a few places and painted in various green tones that emulate the trees.

No wonder Din didn’t see him.

The man has not drawn his weapon, which means he does not see Din as a threat. But why would he? Mandalorians are stronger together, and any reunion, even between tribes, is a joyous one.

Din immediately removes his hand from his blaster, standing tall and proud. He has a job to do. “My name is Din Djarin. I’ve come on behalf of Lady Bo-Katan Kryze.”

The green-clad Mandalorian crosses his arms. “I see,” he replies, tone grim. “And what does Lady Kryze want with us?”

Better to get it out now in case he’s turned away. “She is rallying the clans to retake Mandalore.”

The man is quiet for a beat before he answers. “And she wishes for us to join her?”

“She does.”

The Mandalorian nods, and drops his arms, striding forward. “Well, Din Djarin. You are welcome in our enclave, and we will hear what you have to say.” He presents his hand and Din clasps it. “I am Crix Lera. Welcome to our home.”

Crix releases Din’s hand. He brushes past Din and heads to the rock.

Din follows, and notices a small opening that Crix disappears inside. The space isn’t tight but the formation of the natural rock hides the entrance. You’d need to know exactly where it is to see it.

Din slides through the opening, only to find himself in a small tunnel. Crix walks ahead, and Din follows on his heels along the path. They don’t walk for long. The small tunnel begins to widen, and then opens up into a large communal area.

The first thing Din immediately notices are the lack of faces. Everyone wears a helmet except for a few small children. The communal area is circular, and the center of the room is lower than the rest of the floor. There is a fire burning there, the smoke curling upward to exit through a naturally formed ventilation shaft. In the rocky ceiling are small cut outs that let in some natural light.

When Din enters the area on Crix’s heels, several people pause and glance up, watching the duo as Crix walks along the edge of the room. Din takes this time to take a closer look at the Mandalorians he’s been sent to speak with.

They all appear healthy. Their armor is relatively clean and in good repair. The ratio of men to women is fairly equal, and the number of foundlings is much larger than his tribe’s. Din’s gaze passes over a woman standing by the far wall with a man and a small child. She’s clutching her belly, and that is when Din notices the slight bulge underneath her chest plate.

“You’ll meet with our armorer and tribe leaders,” says Crix over his shoulder, drawing Din’s attention away from the slowly growing crowd of Mandalorians.

“Do they make all the decisions?”

Crix shakes his head. “No. We make them as a group. But when it comes to matters pertaining to the whole clan, they are the ones who mediate the discussions. We will often look to them for final guidance.”

Din does not reply. It’s similar to how his own tribe operates, but he still has too many questions.

Crix guides Din to a small cut in the rock wall. It’s an archway, and it deposits them into a much smaller chamber. A simple forge sits in the center of the room. A Mandalorian Armorer and a child stand together near a workbench. The child is young but old enough to start their training. The two of them talk softly.

On the opposite side of the room, another Mandalorian hammers away at some armor. It’s clear that this is still a child, perhaps a teenager, and must be an apprentice of some kind because his armor is like that of the armorer’s.

The armorer and child both look up when Din and Crix enter the room. Din hangs back near the archway as Crix addresses the armorer.

“We have a visitor, Vikal. This is Din Djarin. Sent to us by Lady Bo-Katan of Clan Kryze. He says she is rallying the clans to retake Mandalore.”

At the mention of retaking Mandalore, the apprentice pauses mid-swing to glance over at Din. The small child at Vikal’s hip shifts slightly, clearly nervous.

Vikal sets the vambrace he’s holding on top of the workbench. He turns toward the apprentice. “Darro. Take your brother and leave us.”

Darro immediately responds, heading in their direction.

“But buir!” protests the child, his little fist tugging on his father’s hand.

“Hush. Go with your brother.” Vikal places a hand on the child’s shoulder just as Darro presents his hand. The child takes it, and Din steps to the side as they pass through the archway.

Once they leave, Vikal steps out from around the workbench and strides forward, pausing just a few feet away from Din. Vikal’s armor and clothes are all black. It’s almost like looking into the void of space. He’s tall, too. Perhaps as tall or even surpassing Paz Vizsla in size.

“Yours?” asks Din, using the question to learn a little bit about the tribe’s practices.

“Mine,” confirms Vikal. But he doesn’t elaborate, and Din decides not to say anything more. “Have you just arrived?” inquires Vikal. “From Mandalore?”

“No,” answers Din. “I came from Nevarro.”

“That is far.”

Vikal closes the distance, his helmet moving with him as he clearly observers Din’s armor. It is not an objectifying look, but an appreciation. “You wear fine work.”

“The armorer of my tribe forged it for me. I am honored by it.”

“This is the Way,” states Vikal.

“This is the Way,” replies Din.

Vikal inclines his head and takes a step back. “You are our guest here. You shall have our hospitality before we speak on more serious matters. As warriors, we are always so quick to take action. Rest. Eat. We will proceed from there.” He turns to Crix. “See to it that Din Djarin has a private room and a hot meal.”

Crix nods, and he and Din depart.

In his private room, Din removes his helmet, and eats.

The food is hot. Fresh. So different from the plain rations he’s used to eating with his tribe. Din wants to know more about this one. He is curious to their ways. When Crix comes for him, the two return to the main communal area. The entire tribe is there, including all the younglings. It is then that he notices several Mandalorians clutching infants.

Din scans the crowd and his heart drops into his stomach.

R5 is here. The droid is on Vikal’s left side. On the armorer’s right, sitting on the floor near his boots, is Grogu. The foundling has a wooden bowl before him. He reaches in, and lifts a handful of something that Din doesn’t recognize and shoves it all into his mouth.

Din immediately aims for Grogu. Seeming to sense him, Grogu glances up and coos, his food covered hands reaching for Din.

“I assume this one is yours?” asks Vikal as Din lifts Grogu and holds the little womprat up to his face. Din checks him over but the foundling is fine. No signs of injury expect the food that’s smeared all over the child’s hands and face.

“Yes,” sighs Din. Crix holds out a hand, indicating he should take a seat. Din does so but he puts Grogu back on the floor. The foundling immediately crawls toward the bowl.

“Your foundling and the droid arrived not too long ago. Found us quite easily. Impressive for one so young.”

Din smiles softly behind the helmet.

Vikal rubs his knees and then stands, striding forward, stopping before the fire. The entire room quiets.

“Mando’ade! We welcome Din Djarin.” Vikal turns toward Din and extends his arm in Din’s direction. The Mandalorians in attendance beat their fists against their chests three times before dropping their arms. “He brings us an important message.”

Vikal retreats, stopping before Din. “Approach, vod. We will hear you.”

Din stands slowly. Grogu’s head tilts to the side, watching Din, his mouth full of food. Din walks to the center of the room just shy of the fire.

“I am Din Djarin. My tribe lives on Nevarro. I have come before you at the behest of Lady Bo-Katan Kryze. She is rallying the clans in an effort to return to and reclaim our ancestral home world of Mandalore. She sent me to ask you if you are willing to join our efforts.”

Din pauses and every single person in the room is watching him, saying nothing. He swallows, knowing that he’ll need to say more to convince them to join.

“I know that I am in no position to ask this of any of you. But we have lived in the dark for too long. Our people are scattered. Like stars in the galaxy. Perhaps it is time for us to live in the light once again. So that our culture may flourish and our children can feel what is it to play in the sunlight.”

The Mandalorians around him chatter softly, but Din cannot differentiate between their conversations. He turns toward Vikal, and the man stands. “Is Lady Kryze certain of success?” he asks, addressing Din. “Mandalorians are few, and our preservation is important. Can she guarantee that there will not be needless death?”

No.

Din sighs, his shoulders heaving slightly. “I cannot give you any such certainties.”

Another Mandalorian stands. It is a man, and his armor is a deep red. “That planet is cursed. The air is unbreathable and nothing grows. We have all heard the stories. Why should we go back to a dead planet?”

“This is not true,” says Din vehemently. “I have been to the surface. I have seen Mandalore with my own eyes. The air is breathable. Life is possible.”

The quiet chatter heightens. Becomes a dull roar.

“What is Lady Kryze’s plan for when the planet is retaken?” This time, a woman asks the question.

“Her goal is the Great Forge. That will be our place of operations and base for reconstruction.”

Din will tell them the truth. There is no reason to hide anything.

“But will we have a place there? Can we call Mandalore home? Or must we return to this planet?”

“All Mandalorians are welcome.”

Vikal nods and stands. “Does anyone else have questions for Din Djarin?” No one replies. “Thank you for relaying Lady Kryze’s message. You have given us much to consider.” Vikal addresses the room. “We will reflect on this, and then convene tomorrow evening for deeper discussion.”

The crowd of Mandalorians incline their heads and place their fists over their hearts. When their arms drop back to their sides, many start to get up and leave.

This isn’t the outcome Din was hoping for. He thought he might receive a quick answer, or even an indication that they are willing to join.

Crix comes up beside Din. “Decisions are never made quickly. You’ll likely be here a few days.”

“As long as I can return with an answer.”

“I’ll come for you tomorrow morning. The local population is holding a festival to celebrate the coming cold.”

Din thinks back to you and the women in that small dwelling. He didn’t exactly get a good look at what you were doing, but Din can only assume the two are connected.

Din tips is head to the side. “You mingle with them?”

“To an extent,” shrugs Crix. “They have no standing army or protection. We look after them, and they take care of us. It has kept our tribe safe for many years.”

Din nods and then bends at the knees to pick up Grogu, cradling the foundling close to his heart.

Crix fetches Din in the early hours of the morning. Grogu is left behind with the other younglings. Din is reluctant to do so, but Crix is persuasive, and Grogu is visibly happy to be amongst other children.

The two men head back through the tunnel, stepping out into the forest. The sun is starting to rise but it’s hard to see through the gray clouds. It snowed overnight, and there is a dusting across the forest floor.

Three Mandalorians mingle just outside the exit. Two men and one woman. They greet Crix with firm handshakes.

“This is Din Djarin,” says Crix. “He’s joining us on our visit into town.”

“Passionate speech you made last night. I’m Jido. Welcome.” Jido and Din clasp forearms and shake.

Jido steps back and points his thumb over his shoulder at the other two Mandalorians. “That’s Ran and Cerra.” Ran gives Din a half-hearted salute while Cerra lifts her hand in greeting. Jido leans in and whispers. “They’re a bit boring.”

“Heard that,” snaps Cerra as she turns her back on the group. “We going?”

The five of them head into the trees, walking in the direction that Din entered from. When they exit, Din heads for the N1, looking it over for any signs of tampering. It’s clean, and Din sighs with relief.

“The people here don’t touch things that aren’t theirs. Your ship will be fine,” states Crix as he walks up beside Din. He runs his gloved hand over the wing in appreciation.

“On Tatooine, I had a run in with some Jawas,” replies Din.

Crix snorts. “What was left of your ship?”

“Nothing.”

Jido, Ran, and Cerra’s jetpacks ignite. Crix and Din follow suit, the five of them launching into the air. Din trails behind, following the four Mandalorians as they jet across dreary farmland.

In minutes they approach the small settlement Din visited yesterday, landing right outside the wall. The people moving about don’t even seem to care that a group of Mandalorians landed amongst them. They keep going about their lives as if is this the norm. It’s the same reaction they had with Din.

Din is almost always the stranger. The unknown variable. In crowded places, he is avoided unless someone needs something from him.

He stays at the back of the pack. Jido, Ran, Crix, and Cerra all appear relaxed. They chat amongst themselves, and even stop for an old woman who presents a basket to them full of the red berries Din saw yesterday. Each Mandalorian takes a handful and deposits the goods into various pockets of their flightsuits.

The old woman approaches Din and holds the basket out to him. He doesn’t want to offend her. He scoops out a decent handful and finds a home for them. He’ll share it with Grogu when he returns.

The old woman inclines her head and moves on. Din’s helmet follows her but Crix taps against Din’s upper arm, drawing his attention away from the woman.

Din inhales, and he isn’t sure if the voice receiver in his helmet picks up the soft sound.

You’re standing right there, eyes bright and eager.

“You found them,” you say enthusiastically.

“I did.” Din is nervous. Why is he nervous? Do you do this to him?

Crix crosses his arms and pops a hip. “The two of you know each other?”

You laugh, and it’s the loveliest sound Din has ever heard. “He stumbled in to Tarra’s workshop while we were preparing the Daily Strands.”

“Make enough for us?” asks Jido, his voice a bit sultry. A bit teasing. Din instantly hates that he’s speaking to you that way.

“There are plenty. So, yes,” you tease back, smiling widely.

Crix shifts, turning his body toward Din. “Since you’re our guest, you don’t need to follow us around while we work.” Crix inclines his head in your direction. “She’ll show you around a bit.”

You look so hopeful that Din cannot say no.

He walks beside you the entire time as you go on about the important buildings, the history of the people, and the finer details of your culture. Din is enraptured by how animated you are toward him. He hardly risks asking any questions, mostly wanting to hear you talk.

“Here we are.” You extend your hand toward the building Din stumbled into yesterday.

“Are we going inside?” asks Din skeptically.

You grin and push back the curtain, gesturing for him to come inside. He follows, and this time there are only two other women in this space. They greet Din politely, but return to their work. You walk over to a large table. On it, are…necklaces? Din isn’t entirely sure what they are.

With caution, he approaches, you present one to him.

“These are Daily Strands. We wear them every day during the winter observance.” You point to the threads holding it together. “The threaded cord is the base, symbolizing the importance of community.” Next, you point to the flower petals. “These symbolize the eventual thaw and growth of new life.” Then the red berries. “These are native to the planet. We dry them out to represent the frozen ground.”

“And what do these symbolize?” asks Din, pointing to long, thin, green, stick-like leaves.

“Abundance. These are needles from local trees, and they grow everywhere.” You smile softly. “But it’s more of a wish for prosperity in the future.”

These are what Jido and Crix were referring to.

 You gently lift the Daily Strand, presenting it to Din like an offering. “It’s customary to wear one of these.”

Din does not refuse. Instead, he lowers at the waist so that you can slide it over his helmet and around his neck.

You gently draw away and your hands fall to your skirts, your fingers fumbling with the fabric in nervousness. “It is also customary for the giver to kiss the cheeks of the receiver.” You shrug. “But I can make an exception given the circumstances.”

Din remembers how eager Jido was to receiving one of these. Briefly, Din imagines you kiss the sides of Jido and Crix’s helmets, and Din instantly simmers.

Not knowing how to ask, Din bends again, this time just enough that all you’ll need to do is to go up on your toes to place those gentle lips against his beskar.

“No exceptions,” he murmurs.

Your mouth forms a soft o, and then it cools, turning into tender satisfaction. Slowly, you kiss the curve of his helmet on the right side and then the left.

Even with the helmet on, Din still manages to catch a whiff of your scent. You smell like the trees and warm sugar. Without instruction, his hand brushes against your hip.

You do not draw away, and that pleases something deep within Din. When you pull back, Din instantly misses your heat.

“I will wear this every day,” says Din, his hand resting against it briefly.

You laugh, and Din doesn’t understand what you find so funny. “It’s a Daily Strand. You receive a new one each day.”

Every day? Does that mean you’ll kiss him every time you place a new one around his neck?

“Then I will be back tomorrow for a new one.”

“Promise?” you murmur.

“Promise.”

Part 2

taglist:

@padawancat97 @foxxy-126 @glassgulls @km-ffluv @sweetbutpsychobutsweet @singleteapot @garfunklevibes2012 @tiredmetalenthusiast @dameron-grant-spector @childofyuggoth @coffeecaketornado @kayden666

[hmshermitcraft]

What? No, Scar definitely hasn’t been watching the new farmer… no he hasn’t been purposely driving up to 2 hours in his sad broken truck just to watch him work..

He can’t help it! He’s just so small and pretty and he has those wings on his back -Barn owl hybrid he is! Scar did his research!- and it just makes the little vex in his head all happy!

Grian on the other hand, is oblivious to his admirer, and is just thinking about giving up and going back to his old farm (He can’t. It burnt down.) because the roof in the bloody barn won’t fix, and he can’t do the electrical stuff to fix the electric wires so his horses keep escaping and- and- oh this sucks.

- Poor anon

Picture Grian's surprise when his cat is hissing at the window during dinner time instead of eating. Very unusual. And when he peaks out the window, there's a certain somebody on the roof of his barn (how did he get up there?) hammering away.

He flies up there and has to swoop to catch Scar before he falls off the roof and hurts himself. Scar gets quite the scolding about doing reckless things, but when Grian checks later he sees some sturdy boards nailed across the leaking hole. Suddenly, it doesn't feel as unbearable as it once did.

[gseren-art-blog]

iiiiii've been workin on these for a while!

i made all these guys several designs because theres a lot of species of mobians + them all being horses is a little boring, so!

twilight is owl and dragon because magic/knowledge themes

pinkie is hyena and alpaca because laughter and TFH reference

RD is falcon and cheetah because fastest animals on earth

AJ is cow and sheep dog because TFH reference and farm animals

fluttersjy is a bat and rabbit because flutterbat and angel bunnie

aand rarity is a peafowl and cat because fancy-ness and opal

ta daaah, sonic ponies

[jangillman]

Right now the average wind farm is about 150 turbines. Each wind turbine needs 80 gallons of oil as lubricant and we're not talking about vegetable oil, this is a PAO synthetic oil based on crude... 12,000 gallons of it. That oil needs to be replaced once a year.

It is estimated that a little over 3,800 turbines would be needed to power a city the size of New York... That's 304,000 gallons of refined oil for just one city.

Now you have to calculate every city across the nation, large and small, to find the grand total of yearly oil consumption from "clean" energy.

Where do you think all that oil is going to come from, the oil fairies?

Not to mention the fact that the large equipment needed to build these wind farms run on petroleum. As well as the equipment required for installation, service, maintenance, and eventual removal.

And just exactly how eco-friendly is wind energy anyway?

Each turbine requires a footprint of 1.5 acres, so a wind farm of 150 turbines needs 225 acres; In order to power a city the size of NYC you'd need 57,000 acres; and who knows the astronomical amount of land you would need to power the entire US. All of which would have to be clear-cut land because trees create a barrier & turbulence that interferes with the 20mph sustained wind velocity necessary for the turbine to work properly (also keep in mind that not all states are suitable for such sustained winds). Boy, cutting down all those trees is gonna piss off a lot of green-loving tree-huggers.

Let's talk about disposal now.

The lifespan of a modern, top quality, highly efficient wind turbine is 20 years.

After that, then what? What happens to those gigantic fiber composite blades?

They cannot economically be reused, refurbished, reduced, repurposed, or recycled so guess what..? It's off to special landfills they go.

And guess what else..? They're already running out of these special landfill spaces for the blades that have already exceeded their usefulness. Seriously! Those blades are anywhere from 120 ft. to over 200 ft. long and there are 3 per turbine. And that's with only 7% of the nation currently being supplied with wind energy. Just imagine if we had the other 93% of the nation on the wind grid... 20 years from now you'd have all those unusable blades with no place to put them... Then 20 years after that, and 20 years after that, and so on.

Golly gee, how green is that?

Oops, I almost forgot about the 500,000 birds that are killed each year from wind turbine blade collisions; most of which are endangered hawks, falcons, owls, geese, ducks, and eagles.

Apparently smaller birds are more agile and able to dart and dodge out of the way of the spinning blades, whereas the larger soaring birds aren't so lucky.

I'm sure the wildlife conservationist folks are just ecstatic about that.

I'm so glad the wind energy people are looking out for the world.