#Wildlife Alliances

[wild-wow-facts]

The Plover Bird's Surprising Alliances

Discover the fascinating world of plover birds and their unique bond with crocodiles. Nature's harmony at its finest!

Check out my other videos here: Animal Kingdom Animal Facts Animal Education

[pinkflames]

[sitting-on-me-bum]

Conservationists are working to reintroduce the Scottish wildcat but face a massive numerical deficit and challenge. Lessons can be learned from its near demise, such as not waiting to conserve species until its nearly too late, the Scottish Rewilding Alliance’s Richard Bunting says.

Image by Charlie Marshall via Flickr (CC BY 2.0).

Small cats face big threats: Reasons to save these elusive endangered species

Researcher Philip Muruthi believes the serval (Leptailurus serval) could be an ambassador for African grasslands. With the ability to jump up to 1.5 meters (5 feet) in the air, it helps control small mammal populations in its habitat. “Serval cat ecotourism is another possibility,” Muruthi says. “They can be hard to spot, but when you see one in the wild, you never forget it."

Image courtesy of Nancy Lewis/African Wildlife Foundation.

Like their big cat cousins, small cat species can have strong cultural ties to human communities. Anthony Gerardo Pino Charaja of the Andean Cat Alliance explains that in countries like Peru, the Andean cat was long closely linked spiritually to the protection of livestock such as alpacas and llamas and was also designated as a deity of water.

Image courtesy of Andean Cat Alliance.

Clouded leopards prey upon a range of species including wild pigs and ungulates, helping control forest populations.

Image by Charlie Marshall via Flickr (CC BY 2.0).

[thepastisalreadywritten]

Source: CNN

First look at new giant pandas at San Diego Zoo

10 July 2024

🖤🐼🤍

[opold]

word i hate to kern most is alliance i think. or anything double-L and all caps, really. horrible use of space. second worst word is zoo. anything else with double O's usually has a bookend letter afterward so it's not so had but zoo. my nemesis

[thedeafzoologist]

Cute but underappreciated animals

Gharials! They look like they're either laughing at their own terrible jokes or trying hard not to. So much dad energy.

Goblin sharks! Most images of them are of dead individuals, so they look wrinkled and scary. But they're just weird little guys and I honestly love them so much.

Telescope fish! Some images of them are from an especially unflattering angle, but they're goofy little things so I don't think they mind it. They have extendable jaws and they do not know what capitalism is.

Archey's frog! It is literally just walking moss in the shape of a friend. I honestly cannot look at them without squealing.

Tragically, gharials are critically endangered with fewer than 235 individuals remaining. The Gharial Conservation Alliance (GCA) is working to preserve this precious crocodilian - if you want to help, you can make a donation or try to raise awareness in whatever way you can

[showofhope]

San Diego Zoo receives national recognition all the time. But is it really all that? Or is it just another example of a big population center grabbing all the attention?

[suetravelblog]

Exploring Kuching Malaysia

Darul Hana Bridge and Sarawak Parliament Building Kuching is one of the most exotic and beautiful places I’ve visited in my travels. The tropical weather requires considerable adjustment for those unaccustomed to heat and humidity, and a daily swim in the lap pool helps! Kuching Apt Lap Pool Daytrips I’ve been exploring the surrounding areas but have had difficulty booking daytrips. There aren’t…

[wausaupilot]

Wisconsin judge dismisses lawsuit challenging state's new wolf management plan

The lawsuit alleged that Department of Natural Resources policy board members collected comments on the wolf management plan from interest groups it favored even after the public comment period ended.

By SCOTT BAUER Associated Press MADISON, Wis. (AP) — A lawsuit filed by animal welfare advocates seeking to invalidate Wisconsin’s new wolf management plan was dismissed by a judge on Monday. Dane County Circuit Judge Stephen Ehlke threw out the case that accused Wisconsin wildlife officials of violating the state’s open meetings law and disregarding comments from wolf researchers and…

[xtruss]

Illustration by João Fazenda

The Burning of Maui

The governor called the fires Hawaii’s “largest natural disaster” ever. They would more accurately be labelled an “unnatural disaster.”

— By Elizabeth Kolbert | August 20, 2023

The ‘alalā, or Hawaiian crow, is a remarkably clever bird. ‘Alalā fashion tools out of sticks, which they use, a bit like skewers, to get at hard-to-reach food. The birds were once abundant, but by the late nineteen-nineties their population had dropped so low that they were facing extinction. Since 2003, all the world’s remaining ‘alalā have been confined to aviaries. In a last-ditch effort to preserve the species, the San Diego Zoo Wildlife Alliance has been breeding the crows in captivity. The alliance keeps about a third of the birds—some forty ‘alalā—at a facility outside the town of Volcano, on the Big Island, and the rest outside the town of Makawao, on Maui. Earlier this month, the Maui population was very nearly wiped out. On the morning of August 8th, flames came within a few hundred feet of the birds’ home and would probably have engulfed it were it not for an enterprising alliance employee, one of her neighbors, and a garden hose.

According to the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, “many factors” contributed to the ‘alalā’s decline, including habitat destruction, invasive species, and the effects of agriculture on the landscape. Owing to these developments, Hawaii’s native fauna in general is in crisis; the state has earned an unfortunate title as “the extinction capital of the world.” Of the nearly hundred and fifty bird species that used to be found in Hawaii and nowhere else, two-thirds are gone. Among the islands’ distinctive native snails, the losses have been even more catastrophic.

Last week, as the death toll from the fires in West Maui continued to mount—late on Friday, the number stood at a hundred and eleven—it became clear that the same “factors” that have decimated Hawaii’s wildlife also contributed to the deadliness of the blazes. Roughly a thousand people have been reported as still missing, and some two thousand homes have been destroyed or damaged. The worst-hit locality, the town of Lahaina, which lies in ruins, was built on what was once a wetland. Starting in the mid-nineteenth century, much of the vegetation surrounding the town was cleared to make way for sugar plantations. Then, when these went out of business, in the late twentieth century, the formerly cultivated acres were taken over by introduced grasses. In contrast to Hawaii’s native plants, the imported grasses have evolved to reseed after fires and, in dry times, they become highly flammable.

“The lands around Lahaina were all sugarcane from the eighteen-sixties to the late nineteen-nineties,” Clay Trauernicht, a specialist in fire ecology at the University of Hawaii at Mānoa, told the Guardian. “Nothing’s been done since then—hence the problem with invasive grasses and fire risk.”

Also contributing to the devastation was climate change. Since the nineteen-fifties, average temperatures in Hawaii have risen by about two degrees, and there has been a sharp uptick in warming in just the past decade. This has made the state more fire-prone and, at the same time, it has fostered the spread of the sorts of plants that provide wildfires with fuel. Hotter summers help invasive shrubs and grasses “outgrow our native tree species,” the state’s official Climate Change Portal notes.

As Hawaii has warmed, it has also dried out. According, again, to the Climate Change Portal, “rainfall and streamflow have declined significantly over the past 30 years.” In the weeks leading up to the fires in West Maui, parts of the region were classified as suffering from “severe drought.” Meanwhile, climate change is shifting storm tracks in the Pacific farther north. Hurricane Dora, which made history as the longest-lasting Category 4 hurricane on record in the Pacific, passed to the south of Maui and helped produce the gusts that spread the Lahaina fire at a speed that’s been estimated to be a mile per minute.

After visiting the wreckage of Lahaina, Hawaii’s governor, Josh Green, called the Maui fires the “largest natural disaster Hawaii has ever experienced.” In fact, the fires would more accurately be labelled an “unnatural disaster.” As David Beilman, a professor of geography and environment at the University of Hawaii at Manoa, recently pointed out, for most of Hawaii’s history fire simply wasn’t part of the islands’ ecology. “This Maui situation is an Anthropocene phenomenon,” he told USA Today.

A great many more unnatural disasters lie ahead. Last month was, by a large margin, the hottest July on record, and 2023 seems likely to become the warmest year on record. Two days after Lahaina burst into flames, the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration issued a revised forecast for the current Atlantic hurricane season, which runs through the end of November. The agency had been predicting a “near-normal” season, with between five and nine hurricanes. But, because of record sea-surface temperatures this summer—last month a buoy in Manatee Bay, south of Miami, registered 101.1 degrees, a reading that, as the Washington Post put it, is “more typical of a hot tub than ocean water”—noaa is now projecting that the season will be “above normal,” with up to eleven hurricanes. Rising sea levels and the loss of coastal wetlands mean that any hurricanes that make landfall will be that much more destructive.

A few days after noaa revised its forecast, officials ordered the evacuation of Yellowknife, the capital of Canada’s Northwest Territories. A wildfire burning about ten miles away would, they feared, grow to consume the city. The Canadian Broadcasting Corporation called the evacuation order “extraordinary.” This summer has been Canada’s worst wildfire season on record, and, at times, the smoke has spread all the way to Europe. There are currently something like a thousand active fires in the country.

Two days after the Yellowknife evacuation was ordered, another Pacific hurricane—Hilary—intensified into a Category 4 storm. Hilary was being drawn north by a “heat dome” of high pressure over the central Plains, which was expected to bring record temperatures to parts of the Midwest. The storm’s unusual track put some twenty-six million people in four states—California, Utah, Nevada, and Arizona—under flash-flood watches.

How well humanity will fare on the new planet it is busy creating is an open question. Homo sapiens is a remarkably clever species. So, too, was the ‘alalā. ♦

— Published in the Print Edition of the August 28, 2023, New Yorker Issue, with the Headline “Fire Alarm.”

[skookumsupine]

Hot tub bear bear tub hot but toh butt toe tbh

[herpsandbirds]

Trick or treat :) !

HAVE I GOT A TREAT FOR YOU!!!

African Dwarf Crocodiles (Osteolaemus tetraspis), family Crocodylidae, found in West-central Africa

This small crocodile species only grows to a length of up to 1.5 m (4.9 ft), on average.

photographs by San Diego Zoo Wildlife Alliance

[hleavesk]

(source: associated press | 30 jan 2023)

In the seaside city of Laguna, scientists have, for the first time, used drones, underwater sound recordings and other tools to document how local people and dolphins coordinate actions and benefit from each other’s labor. The most successful humans and dolphins are skilled at reading each other’s body language. The research was published Monday in the journal Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences.

The Laguna residents work with wild bottlenose dolphins to catch schools of migratory silver fish called mullet. It’s a locally famous alliance that has been recorded in newspaper records going back 150 years.

“These dolphins and humans have developed a joint foraging culture that allows them both to do better,” said Boris Worm, a marine ecologist at Dalhousie University in Halifax, Canada, who was not involved in the research.

Still, the researchers in Brazil worry that the Laguna alliance, perhaps one of the last of its kind, may be in danger as well, as pollution threatens the dolphins and artisanal fishing gives way to industrial methods.

“Human-wildlife cooperation is disappearing because we’re decimating the wildlife populations,” said Janet Mann, a dolphin researcher at Georgetown University, who was not involved in the study.

[kaces-graham-crackers]

To Die For - Halloween Special

Monster Hunter Wednesday Addams x Werewolf Reader

Summary: Y/N, a lone werewolf, finds themself hunted by none other than Wednesday Addams of the infamous Addams Family—but this isn’t a typical chase. Wednesday wants to understand them. As they set a trap for a darker creature lurking in the woods, alliances blur, and both hunter and hunted face more than they bargained for.

Word count: 5.5k

The air was thick with the scent of pine and rain as you moved through the dense forest, your breath coming in sharp bursts. The moon was high, hidden behind clouds, but you didn't need its light. Every instinct and nerve in your body was attuned to the woods around you, heightened by the curse coursing through your veins.

You stopped, catching a scent—something unfamiliar, cold. It wasn't the usual wildlife or the damp earth. It was different. And it was close. You knew what it meant. They'd sent someone after you. And that someone was closer than you expected.

A figure stood on the edge of the clearing, watching with an intensity that made the hair on the back of your neck rise. Dressed in all black, she was still as stone, her pale skin almost ghostly in the shadowed forest. Her eyes, dark and calculating, were locked on you. She wasn't afraid, and she wasn't here to run. She was here for you.

Wednesday Addams.

You'd heard the name whispered through the underground networks of the supernatural. A hunter—someone who sought out the monsters that lurked in the shadows, just like you. Most avoided her, too afraid of her family's infamous reputation, but not you. You had faced far worse than a cold-hearted girl with a knack for finding trouble. And yet, something about her unnerved you. Without taking your eyes off her, you moved back a step, your pulse quickening. But Wednesday made no move to follow. She just stood there, her hands clasped neatly behind her back, as if she had all the time in the world to watch you squirm. "Running won't help you," she said, her voice low, almost a whisper. "I'll find you either way." You swallowed hard, your heart hammering in your chest. You'd outrun hunters before. But something told you Wednesday wasn't like the others. This wasn't just a hunt. It was a game to her. "I'm not in the mood for games," you growled, your voice low and rough as you fought against the pull of the full moon's power creeping under your skin. Wednesday's expression remained unchanged, her gaze gleaming in the dark. "Who said anything about games?" You weren't sure what it was about her—her calm, almost detached demeanor or how she watched you with that piercing gaze—but it made you uneasy. And yet, there was something else, too. Something that made your chest tighten in a way you didn't want to acknowledge.

But before you could say anything more, Wednesday took a step forward, closing the distance between you in one swift motion. "I'm not here to kill you," she said softly, her voice cutting through the tension like a knife. "Not yet." The unspoken implication hung in the air, thick and heavy. You clenched your fists, fighting the instincts rising within you—the urge to run, fight, and protect yourself. "Then what do you want?" you demanded, your voice sharper than you intended. Wednesday tilted her head slightly, her dark eyes fixed on yours with a calculating gleam. "I'm here to observe you." Her words stopped you cold. You'd expected a fight, a chase, something far more dangerous. But curiosity? Curiosity from someone like her? That was something you hadn't prepared for. You narrowed your eyes, trying to gauge her intention. "Observe me?" you repeated, disbelief lacing your voice. "What am I? A science experiment to you?" Wednesday's gaze remained unwavering, unreadable. "Something like that."

The forest seemed to still be around you, the air thick with tension. You felt the full moon's pull lurking just beneath your skin, a dangerous reminder of what you were. But Wednesday stood there, completely unphased, her calm presence unsettling. "And what happens when you've finished your little study?" you asked, your voice low, challenging. Wednesday's eyes flickered, but her expression remained controlled. "That depends on what I find." You let out a slow breath, realizing you wouldn't get a straightforward answer from her. Not yet, anyway. She was too clever, too controlled. The mystery of her intentions hung in the air, thick and unspoken, but it was clear this wasn't the usual hunt. Why me?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady despite the gnawing unease crawling up your spine. Wednesday took another step forward, her gaze sharp and unwavering. "You're different. I don't hunt monsters just because they exist. I hunt them because they interest me. And you, well… you're fascinating." The word "fascinating" sent a shiver down your spine. It wasn't exactly comforting to know you were the subject of her twisted intrigue. But there was something else in how she said it as if she saw something far beneath your surface. "Different, how?" you asked, narrowing your eyes.

Her gaze never wavered, studying you like she could dissect your essence with a glance. "You don't embrace what you are. Most werewolves lose themselves to their instincts, run wild and reckless." Her voice was calm and calculated. "You maintain control—calm, aware, even rational." You bristled at her words, unsure whether to feel insulted or complimented. She was correct; you didn't give in to the hunt as others did. While your instincts were just as strong, you managed to channel them, a level of restraint that had taken you years to develop. "I've observed creatures like you before. But none who... moderate themselves," Wednesday continued, her tone clinical. "A werewolf who seems determined to remain civil." She tilted her head slightly, eyes narrowing. "I wonder… just how far that control extends." Her words hit something deep within you, stirring a mix of pride and resentment. You knew what she meant. To a hunter, a monster was expected to behave predictably, to follow their instincts blindly. But you were neither fully human nor beast—which seemed to disturb her. "Curiosity can get you killed, Wednesday," you replied, your voice steady despite the underlying challenge. You should leave me alone. Wednesday's eyes darkened slightly, yet her expression remained as controlled as ever. "You don't really have a choice. I'm not leaving until I figure you out."

You clenched your fists at your sides, feeling the familiar heat rising in your chest as the moon's pull grew stronger. But despite the anger building inside you, there was something else—a strange pull toward her, like a dangerous curiosity of your own. She wasn't like the others who had come after you. She wasn't here to kill or capture. She was here to… understand. And somehow, that made her more dangerous. You took a step back, unsure of how to proceed. But Wednesday, ever the enigma, took the choice out of your hands.

"I'll be around," she said, her voice soft but with an edge. Turning on her heel, she disappeared into the forest's shadows, leaving you alone, heart racing, mind spinning. Watching. She'd be watching you.

Later that night, you prowled through the dense forest, your mind consumed by the routine of your werewolf form. Your senses were heightened—each sound crisp and clear—the rustling of leaves, the distant howl of a predator, the wind shifting through the trees. You moved fluidly, focused on tracking a small rabbit. Tonight was supposed to be like any other—no drama, no interruptions.

But something felt off.

You paused mid-step, your ears twitching as a strange scent drifted. It was sharp, unfamiliar, and sent a cold shiver down your spine. Instinctively, you crouched low, muscles tense, as you scanned your surroundings for the source. The forest had gone deathly silent. The wind shifted, carrying a low, guttural growl—deep and menacing. It wasn't coming from you. Your heart pounded as your eyes darted through the shadows. Just beyond the trees, something was moving. It was larger than anything you had encountered in these woods before. Its shape was indistinct, obscured by the darkness, but its eyes—glowing faint red—pierced through the black, locking onto you. You froze, every instinct screaming at you to back away. Whatever this was, it wasn't human. And it wasn't friendly. Before you could react, the creature lunged, crashing through the trees with feral speed that caught you off guard. You barely leaped aside in time, claws digging into the ground as you dodged its massive form. It landed heavily, the earth trembling beneath its weight. This thing—whatever it was—wasn't like you. It was something else entirely.

The creature turned to face you, its eyes gleaming a deep, unnatural crimson pulsing with intelligence you hadn't expected—cold, calculating, and predatory. It was far larger than any werewolf, its shape unnervingly twisted, with sinewy muscles and long, limbs that moved in an oddly graceful yet erratic manner. Completely furless, looking like it had mange. Under the dim moonlight, you could make out a distorted, warped form—a creature that seemed barely contained, as though it might burst from its own skin at any moment. And then it let out a low, rumbling growl that reverberated through the forest, vibrating through the ground beneath your feet. The sound wasn't just menacing; it was unearthly, like a warning echoing from another realm entirely. This was no ordinary beast. It felt ancient, primal, as though it had been born from something dark and forbidden, something meant to stay hidden in the forgotten parts of the world. And tonight, for reasons unknown, it had surfaced. You backed away slowly, your eyes locked onto the creature as it prowled closer, each step deliberate, its eyes tracking your every movement with an unsettling focus. But it didn't attack—at least, not yet.

Instead, it watched you, its gaze almost… knowing.

You backed away slowly, your eyes locked onto the creature as it prowled closer, each step deliberate, its eyes tracking your every movement with an unsettling focus. But it didn't attack—at least, not yet. Instead, it watched you, its gaze almost… knowing. Before you could react, the creature let out a guttural, almost amused growl, the kind that felt too close to a chuckle for comfort. The sound sent a shiver down your spine, and you braced yourself, baring your teeth, ready to lunge if it came any closer. But the creature merely tilted its head, those burning red eyes narrowing as if it were studying you. Then, to your shock, it spoke. "Don't listen to her," it snarled, the voice low, jagged, and disturbingly clear. "She's told that to the others." You stiffened, the words echoing in your mind as confusion and unease collided within you. Others? Who else had Wednesday hunted like this, and what did this beast know? Your pulse raced, the forest around you feeling darker, smaller, as if the creature's very presence warped reality. You fought to keep your voice steady, masking your unease with a low growl. "What are you?" The creature's grin widened, revealing rows of jagged teeth that gleamed in the faint moonlight. It moved closer, each step slow and deliberate, as if savoring the tension. "I'm what she can't control," it rasped, a sick enjoyment dripping from every word. "You think you're special, different—but she only tells you that to draw you in. To make you weak." It leaned forward, and you caught a faint, metallic scent that was sickeningly familiar.

The creature's breath was warm and rancid, tinged with something that made your stomach turn. Yet it was those eyes—those ancient, intelligent eyes—that held you captive, radiating a dark amusement. "Don't you see?" it continued, its voice now a mocking whisper. "When the time comes, I'll be there to help you. To tear her apart once and for all." A chill ran down your spine, the forest suddenly feeling claustrophobic as the creature's words echoed in your mind. It seemed to drink in your reaction, reveling in the tension between you. It knew something—something about Wednesday, about you—and it enjoyed every second of the torment it was sowing. You swallowed hard, fighting the urge to back away, your instincts warring with the questions churning in your mind. "Why are you telling me this?" The creature let out another rumbling chuckle, stepping back into the shadows, its shape beginning to blur as if it were part of the darkness itself. "You'll understand… soon." And just like that, it melted into the night, leaving you standing alone, heart pounding, and mind spinning with questions. What had just happened? And what did it mean?

Upon stumbling back to your cabin, you stopped in your tracks when you saw her—Wednesday—sitting at the small table, a notepad open in front of her filled with intricate notes and sketches. An entire observation kit was laid out beside her: crossbows, silver-tipped arrows, vials filled with strange liquids, tools crafted with a precision too deliberate for casual use.

Your heart raced, the shock of seeing her in your space sending your senses into overdrive. "How did you get in here?"you snapped, barely able to keep the irritation from your voice. "You need to leave."

Wednesday's gaze lifted, her expression impassive, unphased by your outburst. "I don't leave until I get what I came for."

Your mind reeled, the creature's words still fresh. "That thing out there—it mentioned you," you said, your voice harsher than intended.

Wednesday's eyes sharpened, her mouth setting into a line. "What did it say?"

You hesitated, those chilling words echoing in your mind. "It said… it said you'd told others the same thing. That I wasn't the only one." The knot in your stomach tightened. "Whatever you're doing here, it's not just about me."

For the briefest moment, a shadow of something crossed her face, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared. She closed her notepad and stood, her focus now entirely on you.

"That thing you encountered—it's a Hyde," she said, her voice cold yet steady. "A monster driven by pure chaos and destruction. It's been following me since Nevermore."

"A Hyde?" you repeated, confusion and intrigue mingling in your tone. 

Wednesday gestured to her open kit, pulling out a crossbow and a vial of poison with practiced ease.

You stared at the crossbow in her hand, your mind reeling as you absorbed everything she was saying. "Why didn't you tell me this before?"

"Because you didn't need to know," she replied matter-of-factly, loading the crossbow with a silver-tipped arrow. "Not until now."

Your chest tightened as you processed her words. She had known this whole time—about the creature, about the danger—and hadn't said a word.

Without missing a beat, Wednesday tossed you a small vial, and you caught it just in time. “Poison,” she said calmly, her gaze unflinching. “If the Hyde comes for you again, don’t hesitate. Use it.”

You stared at the vial, unease prickling your skin. “And what if I don’t get the chance?”

Her lips pressed into a thin line, and she took a step closer, her gaze intense. “That’s why I’m here.”

The weight of her words settled over you, your heart pounding as you tried to make sense of her sudden closeness, her cold commitment to a plan she hadn’t even shared with you. You stared at the vial in your hand, its weight feeling heavier than it should.

 The reality of what was happening settled over you like a thick fog. You didn't know if you could trust Wednesday, but her words rang with an unsettling truth. The creature—the Hyde—wasn't just some random beast. It was hunting Wednesday, and now you had inserted yourself into the middle of it.

"I still don't trust you," you muttered, eyes narrowing as you pocketed the vial.

Wednesday didn't flinch at your words. In fact, she seemed almost amused, the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at her lips. "You don't have to trust me," she replied, her voice cold and precise. "You just have to survive."

Then, to your surprise, Wednesday's hand lifted, fingers cool as she brushed them along your cheek. Her gaze remained detached, yet you saw the faintest flicker of something in her eyes—an intensity just beneath the surface.

"I wouldn't want my experiment to get hurt," she murmured, her voice steady and emotionless, though her touch lingered a moment longer than it should have. 

You blinked, stepping back to regain some distance, your heart racing as the weight of her words sank in. "This isn't just an experiment," you muttered, voice strained.

Wednesday's gaze remained locked on you, unwavering, assessing. She pocketed her crossbow, securing the kit with quick, calculated movements before returning to you. "Think what you want," she said coolly, her expression unreadable. "But if you hesitate, even once, it won't end well."

Wednesday glanced away, her focus shifting to the open path between the trees as though reading an invisible trail.

"We set a trap," she said, a note of finality in her tone. "Tonight, while it's still hunting. The Hyde will come."

You swallowed, feeling the weight of her plan settle over you, the reality of the danger clearer than before. "And what's the bait?" you asked, your voice low.

Wednesday's eyes flicked back to yours, her gaze calculating. "Us."

Hours later, Wednesday moved ahead, leading you through the dense trees until you reached a small clearing, moonlight spilling down to illuminate the space. The air felt still, a heavy quiet settling over the forest as you both stopped, sizing up the open area.

"This should do," Wednesday murmured, her voice low as she took in the surroundings, her hand brushing over the crossbow at her side. She moved with a calm intensity, arranging her equipment with a precision that left no room for doubt.

You followed her lead, every nerve tingling with anticipation. The clearing felt both vulnerable and strategic, a perfect place to draw out the creature—and for a moment, the gravity of the night settled over you.

Wednesday glanced back, her expression unreadable but her eyes glinting in the pale light. "Remember, it's watching. We need to make this look real."

You nodded, heart pounding as the scene took shape around you, the forest stretching out in every direction. Here, exposed under the open sky, there was nowhere to hide. Just you, Wednesday, and the beast that hunted you both.

Your pulse quickened, but you met her gaze, unwavering. "So, we just… wait for it?"

Wednesday's expression remained steady, almost clinical. "Not quite." She walked to the other end of the clearing, placing her kit down, spreading out items with meticulous precision—a few vials, silver-tipped bolts, and herbs that gave off a faint, sharp scent. Every tool seemed perfectly positioned, each a calculated step in her plan.

"We'll make it look real," she said, a faint chill in her voice. "A fight. The Hyde craves chaos, discord. It will be drawn to the scene."

The idea of faking a battle with Wednesday unnerved you, but as you nodded, your instincts braced for what was to come. The forest grew quieter around you, the night holding its breath.

"Ready?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Wednesday's eyes narrowed. "Always."

Without another word, you lunged at her, your hand outstretched to grab her arm. Wednesday moved like a shadow, sidestepping your attack with practiced ease, her expression unreadable. You gritted your teeth and spun around, aiming a low swipe toward her legs. She leapt back, her movements fluid, almost like a dance.

"You think this is all my fault, don't you?" Wednesday spat, her voice cold as ice. "You were always too weak to handle it."

The words hit you harder than you expected, and for a moment, they felt real. You growled, pushing aside the sting of her remark as you charged again, this time with more force. "Weak? You're the one who kept this from me!" you snapped, grabbing her by the collar and shoving her backward.

Wednesday stumbled slightly, but she recovered quickly, her eyes flashing with something dark. "I didn't owe you anything," she hissed, her hand shooting up to grab your wrist and twist it painfully. "You were always just a liability."

The pain in your wrist was sharp, but it only fueled your rage. You shoved her again, harder this time, and Wednesday retaliated by slamming her elbow into your side, knocking the wind out of you. The force of her blow sent you staggering, but you caught yourself, eyes blazing with anger.

"This is all on you!" you shouted, your voice carrying through the trees. You lunged forward, tackling her again, but this time, you grabbed her crossbow from her side and tossed it to the ground. You pinned her beneath you, your heart racing as you stared down at her. For a moment, it almost felt real. The anger, the hurt—it all bubbled to the surface.

Wednesday didn't flinch. Instead, she glared up at you, her cold eyes unyielding.

 "Pathetic. You're a pitiful excuse for a beast—frail, lacking the resilience of those I’ve effortlessly dispatched. Survival? It was never in your nature,” she spat, brandishing a blade from her belt as she swiped at you.

"Fight me," you growled, your voice thick with emotion. "Or are you too afraid?"

Wednesday's eyes gleamed with a dangerous light, and for a moment, you saw something almost like pride flash across her face. She gave a small, cruel smile. "Afraid?" she whispered, her voice low and venomous. "Not of you."

That was the cue.

Without warning, Wednesday kicked you off of her, sending you sprawling to the ground. In one fluid motion, she snatched the crossbow from the dirt, her fingers moving with deadly precision as she loaded it. She raised it and aimed—right at you.

Your thumping, and for a split second, you wondered if she might actually fire. But then, just as she pulled the trigger, the bolt flew past you, into the darkness behind. A loud, guttural roar echoed through the trees.

Out of the shadows, 

the Hyde arrived, 

larger and more menacing than before, its red eyes locked onto her with a predatory gleam.

Wednesday's gaze flicked to you, her voice steady. "Now."

She fired her crossbow, the bolt finding its mark in the creature's shoulder. The Hyde let out another furious roar, lunging forward, claws raking the ground as it charged. You jumped at the beast, claws tearing into its thick hide as you dodged its ferocious strikes, its movements wild and aggressive.

. But it was stronger than anything you'd thought. Wednesday fired bolt after bolt, her shots precise, but the creature was relentless, absorbing each hit with raw, unyielding power.

As you circled the Hyde, its focus split between you and Wednesday, you caught a glimpse of her expression—a fierce determination, her eyes never leaving the target. She reloaded quickly, her movements fluid, calculated, the faintest sheen of sweat on her brow betraying the effort.

The Hyde lunged at you again, its claws slicing through the air, and this time, you couldn't move fast enough. The impact threw you backward, pain flaring as you hit the ground hard, your vision swimming. You forced yourself to rise, catching Wednesday's eye as she aimed again, this time with something stronger—a vial of poison.

In a final act of defiance, you charged the creature, gripping its shoulder and ripping a chunk of flesh away. The Hyde let out a guttural scream, stumbling back before it retreated into the darkness, leaving a trail of blood in its wake.

You dropped to the ground, exhaustion crashing over you as your vision blurred. Blood seeped from a deep wound in your side, soaking into the forest floor. Your limbs felt heavy, and the pain was radiating with each beat of your heart.

From the corner of your eye, you saw Wednesday raise her crossbow, her gaze locked on the retreating figure of the Hyde. She was ready to give chase, her cold determination unwavering. But then, she glanced back, her eyes landing on you, crumpled and bleeding on the forest floor.

In an instant, her stoic demeanor shifted. Without a word, she abandoned her pursuit of the Hyde and hurried to your side, kneeling beside you with surprising urgency. Her hands moved quickly, searching through the small pouch at her side as she pulled out a bundle of gauze and a small vial.

"Stop…" you muttered, trying to push her away with the last bit of strength you had. "The Hyde… you need to go after it."

But Wednesday ignored you, her focus entirely on your wound as she uncorked the vial and poured its contents onto the gauze. The sharp, herbal scent filled the air, and she pressed the soaked gauze firmly against your side, stemming the bleeding with practiced hands.

"Don't be an idiot," she muttered, her voice cold but edged with something you hadn't heard before—something almost like concern. "I'm not letting you bleed out on my watch."

You winced at the pressure, biting back a groan. "But the Hyde… it'll get away."

Wednesday's dark eyes flicked to yours, her expression unreadable but firm. "It's not going to get far. I'll deal with it soon enough. But I'm not letting you die here."

You tried to protest, to urge her to chase down the creature, but she held you in place, her grip unyielding. "If anyone is going to end you, it's me. Not some mindless monster," she said, her tone cold and detached, yet with a hint of something almost… protective.

Despite the pain, a faint smile tugged at the corners of your mouth.

 "That's sweet…coming from you."

Wednesday's eyes narrowed, though you caught a flicker of something that almost looked like amusement. "Save your sarcasm," she said, pressing down harder to stop the bleeding. "If you can joke, you're not dead yet."

You let out a shaky laugh, though it quickly turned into a grimace as another wave of pain surged through you. Wednesday didn't flinch, her attention unwavering as she continued to tend to your wound with surprising gentleness.

After a few tense moments, the bleeding began to slow, and the edges of the pain dulled slightly under her careful treatment. You felt your breathing steady, the worst of the pain fading, though exhaustion weighed heavily on you.

"Thank you," you murmured, barely able to keep your eyes open.

Wednesday glanced at you, her expression still cool but softened.”Don't make me regret it," she replied quietly.

You felt a warmth spread through you, despite the cold forest air and the sting of your injuries. She may not have said much, but her actions spoke louder than words. She could have left you there, but she didn't.

As you drifted in and out of consciousness, you felt her shift beside you, her hand resting lightly on your shoulder in a steadying gesture, as if anchoring you to the present. The last thing you saw before darkness claimed you was her face, framed by the shadows, a silent promise lingering in her gaze.

Back in the cabin, you and Wednesday tended to each other's wounds, the silence between you comfortable, though heavy with the exhaustion of the fight. The small flickering fire cast dancing shadows on the walls, its warm glow a sharp contrast to the cold forest outside. You could still feel the adrenaline thrumming through your veins, but a sense of relief had settled over you, knowing the Hyde was gone for now.

Without warning, there was a deafening crash as the cabin's window shattered. The Hyde barreled through, its massive, bloodied form illuminated by the firelight. You barely had time to react before it lunged, claws outstretched, its eyes fixed on you with a vengeful fury.

But in an instant, Wednesday moved, her body positioning itself between you and the beast. The Hyde's claws slashed across her side as she shielded you.

"Wednesday!" you shouted, horror flooding through you as she flew into the wall, with a sickening thud.

The sight of her blood, of her hurt, ignited something primal within you—a fierce, overwhelming rage. The Hyde barely had time to react as you felt yourself transform, the beast within you rising to the surface with a force you'd never felt before. Claws extended, senses sharpened, you lunged at the creature, every muscle fueled by your bottled instinct.

With a savage growl, you attacked, tearing into the Hyde with everything you had. Its roars echoed through the cabin, but you didn't relent, every strike more brutal than the last as your claws ripped through its thick hide. It tried to fight back, but your rage gave you strength beyond anything you'd ever known.

In a final, explosive burst, you brought your claws down one last time. The Hyde collapsed to the floor, its lifeless form finally defeated. You stood over it, chest heaving, the adrenaline fading as the weight of your actions sank in.

Turning back, you felt yourself return to your human form, exhaustion crashing over you as your gaze found Wednesday. She miraculously managed to slump herself against the wall, her hand pressed to her bleeding side, her face pale but her expression calm.

You rushed to her side, dropping to your knees as you frantically checked her wound. "Wednesday, I… I'm so sorry."

She rolled her eyes. “You're insufferably slow," she muttered, her tone sharp as she stifled a wince. "Did you somehow miss me saying it would return?”

Ignoring her words, you fumbled through her kit, searching for the vial she'd used on you before. Your hands trembled as you unscrewed the cap, but Wednesday's hand reached out, stopping you. She took the vial from you, her fingers stained with blood, and poured the medicine over her wound with practiced ease.

You watched her, still frantic, your mind racing. "You shouldn't have taken that hit… I should've protected you."

Wednesday let out a soft scoff, her gaze unwavering as she stared back at you. Then, with a surprising gentleness, she leaned forward and pressed a kiss on your lips, her touch as fleeting as it was reassuring.

"You're too dramatic," she said, her voice soft but steady. "I'd die for you any day, and besides,"—her smirk returned, edged with a warmth that softened her usual cool exterior—"I'd rather go down saving you than by any creature's hand."

The sincerity in her words caught you off guard, and you felt your heart skip a beat. You held her gaze, the intensity of the moment settling over you both like a silent promise.

For the first time in a long time, there was no danger, no threat. Just you and Wednesday, the faint light of the fire casting a soft glow over her face. You swallowed, still reeling from everything that had happened, but her words—her confession—anchored you, grounding you in a way you hadn't expected.

"Thank you," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Wednesday gave a small, approving nod, her hand lingering on your arm for just a moment longer. "Now, can you finally help me with this wound?" she deadpanned, though the glint in her eyes betrayed her amusement.

You smiled, your relief flooding through you, and you set to work, carefully tending to her injuries. And as you worked, her steady gaze stayed on you, her words—I'd die for you any day—echoing in your mind, a reminder that, whatever came next, you would face it together.

[snototter]

A ruddy duck (Oxyura jamaicensis), housed at the San Diego Zoo, USA

by the San Diego Zoo Wildlife Alliance

[reasonsforhope]

The Kenya Wildlife Service celebrated the successful transfer of 21 eastern black rhinos to establish a new viable breeding population for the species that was on the brink of extinction decades ago.

In an 18-day exercise executed by highly trained capture and veterinary experts, the Loisaba Conservancy received the 21 rhinos from three different locations, becoming the 17th sanctuary in Kenya where the mammoth animals can roam and intermingle.

“It’s incredibly exciting to be part of the resettlement of rhinos to a landscape where they’ve been absent for 50 years,” said Tom Silvester, CEO of Loisaba Conservancy.

Kenya had 20,000 black rhinos in the 1970s before poachers decimated them for their horns. By the time the Kenya Wildlife Service (KWS) was established in 1989, rhino numbers had declined to below 400.

Since then, Kenya’s eastern black rhinos have made a remarkable comeback and today there are an estimated 1,004 individuals.

Kenya is a stronghold of the eastern sub species of black rhino, hosting approximately 80 percent of the entire world’s surviving population.

“Surpassing the milestone of 1,000 rhinos within four decades is a significant accomplishment,” said Munira Bashir, Director of The Nature Conservancy in Kenya.

The reintroduction this month of these 21 animals this month is a great milestone in Kenya’s rhino recovery action plan, and was made possible by support from The Nature Conservancy, San Diego Zoo Wildlife Alliance, other partners—and the three reserves from where the 21 rhinos originated, Nairobi National Park, Ol Pejeta Conservancy and Lewa Conservancy.

“In the recent past, one of the main causes of mortality of rhinos has been territorial fights due to limited space in sanctuaries which has also led to suppressed growth rates due,” explained Dr. Erustus Kanga, the Director General of Kenya Wildlife Service. “I am elated to be associated with this momentous effort to secure more space for this cornerstone species.”

Meanwhile, southern white rhinos continue to thrive in Kenya, having increased from 50 individuals that were imported from South Africa in the eighties and nineties to reach the current population of 971 individuals.

Kenya is also playing a critical role in efforts to save the northern white rhino from extinction, as it is host to the only remaining two females of the species left in the world. The international BioRescue project has developed thirty embryos awaiting implantation into surrogate females within the closely-related subspecies of southern white rhino.

“The return of black rhinos to Loisaba, 50 years after the last known individual here was killed by poachers in the 1970s, is a demonstration of how impactful partnerships between governments and conservation NGOs can be for restoring, managing, and protecting our natural world,” said Dr. Max Graham, CEO and Founder of Space for Giants, one of the project partners.

“And, of course, the return of black rhinos here gives all of us one of the most precious commodities of all: hope.”

-via Good News Network, February 25, 2024