#Wildlife Stories

[cryoverkiltmilk]

If You Give A Mouse A Wobble

I am watching a mouse make a series of what I can only describe as Fuck Around Choices, and the Find Out is VERY excited to continue this little experiment.

[noseysilverfox]

November 2024

Of course, my appearance on the pond did not go unnoticed. But reaction is also a good source of information. As it turned out, adult turtles are more calm and even confident than the younger generation. They were in no hurry to leave the heated log and sometimes looked up at the top, where I was sitting. The young turtles immediately swam away from any movement🐢🌱

Maybe turtles are not the fastest animals on land, but in the water they are the speed itself, if they need to😏⚡️

Конечно, мое появление на пруду не осталось незамеченным. Но реакция тоже является хорошим источником информации. Как оказалось, взрослые черепахи более спокойные и даже увереннее в себе, нежели молодое поколение. Они не торопились покинуть нагретое бревно и иногда поглядывали на верх, где сидела я. Молоденькие черепахи сразу уплывали от любого движения🐢🌱

Может на суше черепахи не самые быстрые животные, но в воде они сама скорость, если им надо😏⚡️

[cacodaemonia]

[arminreindl]

[have-you-seen-this-animal]

hi i’m here to fulfil my patriotic obligation and kindly request the European bison 🦬

Ooo yeah, super cool animals!

[alecgypaetusbarbatus]

Lil bat crunching a lil worm.

Note: I'm a wildlife rehabber volunteer and everything I do is under supervision. Like feeding this bat.

[balkanradfem]

I just had an Experience in the water.

Heading home from my garden where I re-planted new tomatoes (because my original ones all got destroyed by the frost, RIP), I was feeling a little dizzy, light-headead and woozy. I figured putting myself inside the cold river was the best solution for all of these things, so I changed my course to the secluded edge of the fields, where trees and bushes were guarding the ground. And, if one was not afraid of slipping and rolling down, water could be accessed as well.

I hid myself into the bushy riverside area, got most of my clothing off and slowly tipped inside the river. It was colder than usual, due to the recent frosty days, so it took me a few tries to get myself completely submerged. I usually make sure nobody can see me; this time there was a small group on the other side of the river, but they seemed to be children, and I don't believe they had noticed me at all.

I was having a great time up to my neck inside the icy water, when something hit the back of my thigh. A log must have somehow bumped into me, I thought, and I turned around trying to see it in the water, when something poked its head out and swam around me. A dog somehow swam here, I thought even more confused, but then she turned her head around, and looked at me, and I realized it was a beaver! A whole big grown up beaver was right next to me, looking at me! I gasped and stared mesmerized, while she stared back at me good-naturedly, for a good few seconds, both of us in shock. Then she turned to swim away, but I couldn't watch her departure because something else got my full attention. A big bird was flying right at me. I saw the big wing span before I saw the head, and it was – a heron. I was immediately thrilled by this, because herons will not come close to me, I had herons offendedly fly away if I so much as looked at them from 500 meters distance. This one was already so close! Come to me, I thought with satisfaction, but then, already so close, the heron realized I was there, and changed direction mid-flight, flinching away from my offensive presence. It made a big circle to the other side of the river instead. I could still see it from up close!

Also during this entire encounter, I was almost completely naked, was only wearing my underwear. The animals were also not wearing anything so we were all even. I've never seen a beaver, or a heron, from such short distance before. I don't think this kind of thing could happen in the warmer months, I think the animals only relax this much in the river when the water is not very human-hospitable, so they don't expect to run into a whole human being while chilling on a Saturday evening.

My first interaction with a beaver was an underwater headbutt! It wasn't strong, but I can still feel the place on my thigh where she bumped into me, it was so damn cool.

Now, the mystery remains: why were both the beaver and the heron heading for this exact location, at the same time? My first thought was that maybe heron was hunting the beaver, but it doesn't make any sense, the beaver is way too big to be prey. Then I thought, maybe all of this was a coincidence. Maybe the beaver was just there to get some of the floating logs, because she needed some building material. And the heron was using this spot as her usual chilling place, and I rudely occupied it before she could land there. But then it hit me.

They were heading for the same spot, at the same time, because they had a meeting. They were secret friends, and this spot was their hangout spot. They were gonna chill together and discuss recent river news. I sadly was not accepted into their friend group as I was the wrong species and also did not announce that I would be there. I scared them away, my only hope is that they had a chance to gossip and rant about me later.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Worry not for the Nameless Red Disciple, they just went down to the river to chill with the river turtles!

[miyrumiyru]

〰️〰️Wandering and streaming 〰️〰️

Eastern spot-billed duck (Anas zonorhyncha)

[defilerwyrm]

Bird Guy

I think if you start out as some kind of a *kid you're gonna wind up as some kind of *guy. By which I mean my mom was a Horse Girl and as an adult she's a Dog Lady; and that I was a Dinosaur Kid and a Wolf Kid and a Dragon Kid, and as an adult I have variously been known as a Wolf Guy, Werewolf Guy, Dragon Guy, Snake Guy, and Bird Guy.

Those who know me a bit, or at the very least know what I show of myself and my interests via this blog, might be slightly surprised by the Bird Guy thing. The funny thing about it is that it was a) localized to my office in Houston back when I lived there, b) a title attained fairly quickly, and c) completely by happenstance.

I worked in that office for barely more than a year, but in that time all of the following managed to happen:

One: I came downstairs into the central entry/foyer to find a little crowd of people looking at something by the glass exterior wall. When I went to see what they were all looking at, pack animal that I am, I found they were staring at a bird on the floor huddled against the glass, occasionally jumping and fluttering against it trying to get outside. I looked around in confusion that none of them were, you know, doing anything about it, then walked over, picked the bird up, briefly checked him for injuries (he was fine), took him outside to release. When I came back in the crowd was all staring at me like they couldn't comprehend what had just happened. I went to wash my hands and carried on with what I'd been doing before.

News of this spread rapidly.

Two: While outside having a cigarette with some coworkers, another bird flew into said glass wall and landed like a brick. I snuffed my dart and picked the bird up carefully. He was alive but understandably dazed. I warmed him up in my hands and bothered him a tiny bit to keep him conscious until he rallied and was ready to fly back off.

News of this also spread quickly.

Three: I was having lunch with some friends at a local phо̄ place and a tiny little bird got trapped inside. Once again, lots of people were staring and muttering about it, but no one was making a move to so much as open the door for the poor thing, so I did it myself. Walked up to her, picked her up, let her go out the door. The restaurant erupted into rapid chatter. I washed my hands in the restroom and sat back down to my disappointing soup. My friends were staring at me.

"Did you just pick up a bird?!" one of my friends asked me.

"...Yeah?" I said, not understanding the point of the question.

These events led directly to...

Four: Someone in my office found a nestling dove in the middle of the parking lot, put it in a cardboard box, and took it inside.

Guess who they gave it to.

"I mean, I figured, you're our resident Bird Guy, so.…"

This was news to me. "Oh," I said as I took the box. "Yeah no problem, I'll take care of it."

Called around, found a local wildlife rescue that was already closed for the day, took the dove home, set it up with insulation and water in the bathroom (away from the cats), handed it over to the rescue the next day.

You're always gonna be some kind of *guy.

[noseysilverfox]

November 2024

The common moorhen, or waterhen, wamp chicken (lat. Gallinula chloropus).

I met a couple. They were having a conversation when I approached the lake, and most likely agreed not to push their luck and retreat into the reeds. Think that I was lucky to be bigger than them😅, because waterhens are very territorial birds and aggressively defend their plots from other birds, especially during the mating season. They may even come into conflict with their relatives🌾

Камышница или камышовая, водяная, болотная курочка, лы́ска (лат. Gallinula chloropus).

Мне встретилась пара. Они вели беседу, когда я подошла к озеру, и, скорее всего, договорились не испытывать судьбу и ретироваться в камыши. Думаю, мне повезло быть крупнее их 😅, потому что камышницы — весьма территориальные птицы и агрессивно защищают свои участки от других птиц, особенно в брачный период. Они могут даже вступать в конфликты с сородичами🌾

[biophonies]

finished this comic (based on that wolf meme that's based on the proverb that's often falsely attributed to a mythic Cherokee elder...) ages ago & forgot about it, but these last weeks changed that...

I guess the "joke" is that it's easy to feel powerless, to feel rage and then burn out, or to act like all is well in order to create a false peace, but none of these things will change the world. we must hold each other close, breathe, and act out of love & not anger, so that we are able to act at all. there was a beautiful statement I came across this week that I can no longer find, something like: "you should not stand up to evil acts because you would hope that if our roles were reversed, I would do the same for you. that is patronage, not solidarity. solidarity is standing up for me, as I would for you, because it is part of the work of us creating a world where evil acts cannot take place." every voice that denounces this absolute global shame, this g3nocid3 unfolding before our eyes, that speaks beyond the alienation, the censorship, and the threats so needed to maintain such atrocities, is a voice that can carry us into a better world. so speak up.

learn from direct sources. and BOYCOTT! because human decency is not the language warmongers speak, it is money.

[mostlyinthemorning]

Okay tumblr, do you want to hear the story of the time I had a live badger under the front seat of my car?

A few of you have heard this story before, but I feel like you might be okay hearing it again.

So.

Mumblety years ago, my first real job after university was working at a wildlife rescue centre. Basically, people would find injured and orphaned wild animals and they’d call us up and we’d nurse them back to health or raise them until they were grown enough to go back to the wild. Most of the time the patients were birds (robins, so many robins) and small mammals, like squirrels, but occasionally we got a more unusual animal.

One day, this baby badger comes in, he's really small, probably about 6 weeks old. 

Super cute, kind of like this:

x

At six weeks old he’s still nursing so we bottle fed him for a few weeks and then eventually, when he started eating solid food like mice, we put him out into an outdoor enclosure. By the end of the summer, he's catching and eating his own food and he's growls super ferociously whenever anyone comes up to the cage.

Ah-ha, we think, we have rehabbed him successfully. He's ready to be released!

The wildlife center isn’t really located in badger habitat, but I was planning to travel to visit my parents, about four hours south, and they lived in the country and had lots of gophers for him to eat. Thus, a plan was born. I would visit my parents, I would take the badger with me, he would be happily released into the wild, and my friend and I would go camping, just to round out the weekend. 

So, my friend (who also works at the wildlife centre) and I happily load our things and our badger into the back of my very small Toyota Tercel. (You see where this is going, I hope.)

My car was like this, but blue.

X

You might notice that this is not a very large car. And you’d be right. 

Badger safely stowed in the back seat, we head south. I think it’s important to mention that the badger is in a plywood crate with a sliding wood door that goes up and down as this will be relevant later on.

Now, it’s a blazingly hot day, probably 35C/95F and my little car doesn't have air conditioning. It is hot. Even with the windows down. And the badger is annoyed. We can tell he’s annoyed by the loud and angry growls coming from the back seat. 

Our plan is to stop about 1.5 hours into the trip to visit a bank and a grocery store. The badger doesn’t care about this plan. He’s still very annoyed.

We pull up to the bank, parking in the shade so the badger won't be toasty in the sun, and we go inside. This is before the days of paying with everything with debit cards so we needed cash. We come back out pretty quickly and open the door of the car and immediately there's a problem. The badger is still growling, but now the growls are coming from under the front seat of my car.

We slam the door closed and try to decide what to do. Because we’re going camping, we aren't really prepared for anything other than opening up the door of the crate and watching the badger run away. We don't have any gloves, or a towel, or even so much as a business card saying that we are allowed to have a live badger in our car. As we're standing there, trying to figure out what to do about our predicament, people keep coming up to us to ask if we've locked our keys in the car. (If only!)

I crack open the door of the car a few times, and the badger growls at me every time. Clearly, he lives under the front seat of the car now. We have to do something. It’s still hot, and now we’re behind schedule and we still have 2.5 hours left to drive. 

A guy in a big oilfield truck pulls into the parking spot beside us. Figuring we don’t have a choice, we accost him as he gets out of his truck and ask if he has any gloves we can borrow. He admits that he does, but, of course, he wants to know why.

We explain.

He absolutely refuses to get involved but he agrees to lend us his gloves. Apparently he doesn’t have any reservations about watching two 20-something young women wrestle a live badger as long as he doesn’t have to do it himself. Gloves secured, we open the door of the car.

The growling gets louder.

It's still coming from under the seat.

Now, I don't know if you've ever tried to stick your hand under the front seat of a Toyota Tercel in order to retrieve a live badger. But there's not much room. 

The other thing you should probably know about badgers is that the scruff of their neck is extremely loose so that they can twist around if a predator grabs them. 

All of this is to say that wrestling a badger out from under the seat of your car is vaguely similar to trying to fish an angry, squirmy cat out from underneath your bed, if the cat had 2 inch claws and the ability to completely rotate in its own skin. In a public parking lot. While trying not to attract a crowd of onlookers. 

Finally, after much swearing, we manage to shove the badger out from under the seat, I grab it and slam it back into its crate. 

Whew, we think. At least we fixed that problem. But everything is okay now. Back to the plan!

It takes about five seconds for us to discover that the badger released himself by sticking his claws under the sliding door and lifting it up.

At this point, you probably won’t be surprised to learn that long with our lack of gloves, we also don't have any tools that we might use to fix the door of the crate. But somehow we manage to wedge the door of the crate shut. 

Whew, we think. At least we fixed that problem. But everything is okay now. Back to the plan!

You might be sensing a theme, and you’d be right. With the hindsight of some years since then, we probably should have turned around. Oh, to be 23 again.

It's still 35 degrees.

The badger is still angry.

We still have 2.5 hours worth of driving ahead of us.

We head out on the highway and the trip gains the soundtrack that I can still hear to this day.

Growl, growl, scratch, scratch.

Growl, growl, scratch, scratch.

Growl, growl, scratch, scratch.

We turn up the music. The badger growls louder.

I’m already doing ten over the speed limit. I drive a bit faster. Did I mention that the car doesn’t have air conditioning?

Growl, growl, scratch, scratch.

Thunk. Scratch, scratch. Thunk.

Our gerry-rigged closure on the crate has failed and the badger is sticking his claws beneath the door and lifting up the door. It’s only going to be seconds before a hot angry badger is loose in the car. We’re fifteen minutes from my parents’ house. 

I pull onto the shoulder of the highway and my friend scrambles into the backseat. Putting all of her weight on the sliding door, she holds it down as the badger scratches furiously. I pull back onto the highway, now I’m going twenty over the limit. 

Fifteen long, hot, and exhausting minutes later, we arrive at my parents’ house. I swear the badger's growls can be heard in Ottawa. Gasping a hello to my mom and dad, we lug the heavy crate with the heavy badger out into the field, wanting to release it as quickly as possible.

The growling gets louder. The crate might be the heaviest thing I’ve carried in my life. Staggering through the field, we finally decide we're far enough away from the house. We lift the door of the crate. The badger dashes for freedom—which is to say that it runs ten feet away and turns to look at us. 

Whew, we think. At least we made it here. But everything is okay now. We did it!

Heaving a sigh of relief, we gather up the crate and turn to go back the way we came. 

The badger follows us.

We walk faster.

The badger chases after us, practically at our heels.

We jump across the creek.

The badger launches itself into the water, swimming after us. 

We stop. The badger comes and sits at our feet like the world’s shortest, widest dog. We look at it. It stares back at us. Maybe the badger just needs a moment to consider its life of freedom. We wait. The badger wanders away. We pick up the crate for a second time and try to walk away. The badger is having none of it. It gallops after us. I pick up the wet badger and tuck it under my arm. This is the happiest it's been all day. Clearly, we are not releasing this badger into the wild.

Now, friends, we have a dilemma. We’re four hours from home, it’s getting late, and whatever we decide to from this point forward is going to involve a slightly damp, half-grown badger made of growls.

Our plan, if you can call it that at this point, was to release the badger and then go camping in a nearby national park. This now seems like a bad idea. But we're four hours from home and we have to do something. 

So. 

We decide to take the badger camping. In a moment of prudence, we forgo the national park and choose a nearby provincial park instead. 

We drive to the park. The badger rides on my friend’s lap. There’s no growling.

We set up our campsite. Thankfully, the campground is nearly empty. While we’re setting up the tent, the badger explores the campsite, amusing himself by digging a few holes and making sure to keep us in sight. It was like having a very short, very growly dog who likes to dig.

I’m sure it won’t surprise you in the least if I say that it’s at this point that we realize we’ve forgotten the matches for the stove. 

The nearest town is twenty minutes away. The badger will have to go back in the crate for the journey. The badger is not a fan of this idea. But we get him back into the crate—something that’s a lot easier now that we know he’s not trying to eat us—and we head for town, accompanied by the now-familiar symphony of growling. 

Now, it's been a bit of a day. So I think I should be forgiven for accidentally going over the speed limit on the way out of the campsite. This is, of course, when I get pulled over. Remember, we don't have a single piece of official wildlife-related ID between us, not even so much as a business card. This was before cell phones so we can’t even phone the wildlife center to vouch for us. We're both convinced that this is it, that we're probably going to jail for wildlife smuggling. And the badger is never getting out of that crate. In the backseat, the badger is growling louder than ever. 

The officer comes up to the car window.

The badger growls.

We hold our breath.

The badger growls even louder. 

The officer proceeds to absolutely ream me out for going twenty over the limit. The badger growls at every word. The officer doesn't even acknowledge the badger. I apologize profusely. I promise to never ever do it again. The officer gives me a warning. The badger growls. I drive away very, very slowly.

The next day we drive home and I can't even remember the details of the trip, I think I've blocked it out, but I’m pretty sure we let the badger had free-run of the car. When we got back to the wildlife center, we learned that badgers don't leave their moms until they're a bit older. We put him back in his cage, and about four months later, he digs his way out. And every now and then for about a year after that, people would come to the wildlife centre and say that an overly-friendly badger had come up to them on our nature trail. 

And this is why I always make sure to carry gloves in my car.

THE END

[ashleyfableblack]

With a gust of green flame Queen Chrysalis Sparkle appeared in the disaster-zone that was the West Tower royal laboratory of her wife. "Twilight? I-"

"Honeybug! Thank you for coming home early."

A wide-eyed Queen Twilight cautiously prodded at the hissing spider with a pair of tongs. It lunged and snapped at them with its chelicerae. It backed away from her, it's forelimbs raised in a threatening pose. As it sideled sideways, looking for an opening in Twilight's defenses she maneuvered the tongs like a shield.

A concerned Chrysalis regarded the scene with a raised eyebrow. "That is a Green Widow."

Twilight continued her defensive dance with the irate arachnid. "Correct!"

Chrysalis looked from the hissing creature to Twilight and back. "And why is it here in your laboratory with it's acidic spittle and venomous bite which could even kill an alicorn, like my wife?" Her horn crackled with a whisp of green flame. She drew close to her pony wife, ready to interpose herself.

"I know you're concerned, honeybug." Twilight quickly attempted to reassure her. "I'm fine- WOOP!" She ducked as a thin spray of grey mist shot past her shoulder. It's impact left a smoking buckshot pattern on the nearby bookshelf.

Chrysalis pursed her lips, her fangs scraping against the chitin in worry. "I see." In a gust of green changeling flames she created an invisible shield around Twilight.

"The potency of the green widow's venom is legendary and it's precisely why this one is here. Green widow bites in the Whitetail woods are rare but they have a very high mortality rate. I need to retrieve a sample of its venom to continue our local hospital's research into developing a viable antivenom. This little fellow was volunteered by our local wildlife wranglers for the process. Normally Fluttershy would be handling this but she's come down with the ponypox."

The spider kicked a few of the broken tongue depressors out of its way. With an angry chomp it hefted up the tattered remains of a plush doll, made to resemble the buttercream pegasus and flung it at Twilight. "I'm afraid this little fellah is not in any mood to cooperate."

"Why do you have a little plushie of her?"

"Discord left it here after our last tea-time." She traded knowing eyes with her wife and shrugged. "I didn't ask. Anyways, I was hoping you could help with this moody little guy, with your people's knowledge of the creatures of the deep woods, I theorized you might have an insight to its behavior or at least be able to hypnotize it momentarily."

Chrysalis chuckled. "I'm so glad you had the good sense to ask for my help." She kissed her wife's horn and gave it a playful nip with her fangs. "But mesmerizing it with my enchanting gaze won't be necessary, beloved."

Chrysalis turned to the spider and made a series of clicks and whispered hisses. The furious arachnid set down the beaker it had hefted overhead, prepared to hurl at Twilight. The two hissed and spat back and forth for a moment as Twilight watched in wide-eyed surprise. They were communicating. She was still learning just how helpful it was to have a wife who had literally been almost every species of creature in the world.

"You speak its language?" Her brow furrowed. "It has a language?"

The creature angrily stomped it's forelimbs as Chrysalis nodded. Occasionally it pointed at Twilight and made a particularly disgusted sound, slapping its pedipalps together.

Chrysalis sighed. "Yes. Of a sort. Most sapient beings do." There was a slight tinge of irritation to her words.

"Chrysalis!" Twilight used her magic to retrieve a pencil and note tablet from a nearby desk, excited to record this new knowledge. "This is incredible! Equestrian science knows so little about the green widow!" She hadn't even considered this discovery. "Ooooo! What did it say?"

"Well, for starters, Her name is Miss Mugglywumpus. She does not appreciate being snatched from her burrow and she is very offended by your eyelashes."

Twilight blinked. "My… eyelashes?" The spider hissed and reared up again.

"Yes." Chrysalis looked back to the angry spider. "You've been fluttering them at her in a very rude threat display."

Twilight lifted a tiny mirror to examine herself, suddenly very self-conscious. Normally she was very proud of the inky black cilia which framed her almond-shaped violet eyes. Chrysalis often complimented her on their "come-hither" quality. She supposed they might resemble antennae or some other form of limb to the right perspective.

Her changeling wife continued. "Not only that but your aggressive blinking has been signaling very crass remarks about her hygiene, the size of her abdomen and capacity to spawn a respectably-sized brood."

"I WHAT?!"

Chrysalis motioned to the creature with her serpentine eyes. It glared up at Twilight with all 8 of its crimson peepers. Fangs glistening, forelimbs folded across it's thorax. If there was any expression in a spider's body-language which might indicate it had been the recipient of a potent yo-mama slam, this looked to be about right.

Twilight gave a dejected sigh as Chrysalis placed a consoling hoof across her withers.

She had expected today to be quite eventful. However, as Rainbow Dash might say, she did not have 'sparking a first-contact disaster with her face' on her bingo card today.

[ultra-phthalo]

wip title tag game [I got tagged]

RULES: Make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! [Link to the previous tags]

@fiber-optic-alligator Thank you for the tag, this looks fun :D I'll be sending an ask about 'Lost and Found', the plot sounds so cute. I welcome anyone to ask about the WIPs I've got.

My WIP names: 1. The Take Over AU - g/t 2. Little Islands - Story Revisited (Draft 7) - g/t 3. Cinnabar One Way / Zonal - TFP 4. War AU 5. Desert Survival With Starscream / Know the Dunes - G1 6. Polar Inquiry - G1 7. Reverse First Contact AU Notes 8. Forgotten Habitat 9. 5 Years of Kindness 10. Soot Water - Sky Bound EU 11. Nuclear war 12. Delphi

I don't organise my WIPs very well. I've written story drafts in the notes app and written the notes of other stories inside of unrelated WIPs whenever ideas come to mind, oof. But hay, I am curious about what others might be working on. And interested in sending asks your way! Mutuals: @steelthroat @topaz616 @cryingline @soothedcerberus @theinkwaygame

It's alright if you don't really have any WIPs, if you don't mind asks about the ideas that aren't quite WIPs and you're interested in sharing that'll be fun. Others are welcome to reblog and join the tag game.

[bramble-clan-clangen]

BrambleClan's Journey!

Helloooo! Welcome to my first ever Clan-Gen blog, I've been reading so many I finally decided to plant myself down and make one... Over the course of months... Before finally drawing anything. I've gone through multiple game files and they all went haywire, too drastic and not enough grit in a story-sense. This one, however, has stuck! I am Robot Possum, or just Robot, I go by she/her and I am trying to get my confidence up about putting my art out there. Have mercy on me- I'm not a frequent poster and I'm still trying to find a style of drawing that is easy, quick, and looks good lol. I will try to post once a week, but don't hold me to that as my life outside this is a little hectic. Which is why I'll try and make them in bulk. Start Here : Moon 0

BrambleClan Founders: Leader: Batstar - Female (adult) Deputy: Logbriar - Male (adult) Medicine: Fringeshadow - Male (young adult) BrambleClan's Origin: The original BrambleClan was long lost over many generations, it simply became a large group of cats with a different system to live by. A leader, the council, enforcers, and all others. Fringe, born with the ability to speak to ghosts, was given a warning that a great danger was coming, and they had to leave to ensure "true BrambleClan cats" will survive. Bat, Fringe, and Log eventually planned to leave, to create a new home for everyone who wanted to escape. Many cats were lost on the journey, but the last 3 eventually found their new home sheltered in a gully carved from an ancient creek that still has a small stream flowing.

Fun-fact: Bat and Fringe are siblings! Bat is the older sister who was the first litter, Fringe was the second litter. Log is just a loyal friend to the two and that's why he's here, never going to let them down.