#discovery bird of prey

[defconprime]

[gooseontheloose41]

[dopescissorscashwagon]

Great photograph! ❤️

📸 by Eagle Discovery

[yeniyeniseyler]

blutv - Ekim 2024 (Yeni İçerikler)

blutv dijital platformuna Ekim 2024’te eklenecek olan yeni film, dizi ve belgesel içerikleri belli oldu. blutv – Ekim 2024 – Filmler & Diziler Filmler Dune Part Two (2024) Godzilla (2014) The Prestige (2006) Sex and the City 2 (2010) Ocean’s Eight (2018) Ocean’s Twelve (2004) Birds of Prey (2020) Diziler İlk ve Son (2. Sezon) / blutv Özel Yapım / 24 Ekim İlk Ve Son, 20’li yaşlarının ortasında…

[sweet-as-an-angel]

Miguel’s Reaction to You Calling Him a DILF

Warnings: Implied Smut, Dominant Miguel, Profanity, Use of ‘Daddy’, Lyla Trying Her Best <3, Fem Reader.

Despite spending every day with Lyla, an absolutely chronically online AI, Miguel knows little in the way of internet jargon.

Thus, this term - DILF - is one he’s never come across before. Namely because Lyla has never seen it fit to implement it into a conversation.

But, when Miguel overheard you calling him your “Favourite DILF; just a gorgeous, scrumptious specimen,” he had to ask Lyla to translate for him.

Miguel swore he could see her eyes widen, her brow stiffen and crease.

“It’s…it’s — uh — well…”

Lyla scratched the back of her head, her stare sloping off to the side — away from Miguel’s cattish stare. Her teeth gritted, a gateway, a preventative measure to ensure your safety and wellbeing. The only barrier between your open secret and miguel’s discovery of it.

“Oh, come on, Lyla,” Miguel crossed his arms over his chest, as if to inhibit the anxiety starting to bloom there. He doubted that you’d ever bad-mouth him, especially given how close the two of you were, but Lyla’s apprehension was starting to spark some doubts. Regardless, he persevered, kept his stare hard and neutral. “It can’t be that bad.”

“It..it means…” Lyla sighed, pinched the bridge of her nose beneath her glasses. She didn’t look up at Miguel, instead finding you in her mind’s eye and cursing you. And wishing the best for your safety.

“Dad I’d like to fuck.”

She came out with it, the words almost poisonous and sour on her tongue as they passed through. And the fact that she’d had to say them to Miguel of all people didn’t help.

At first, Miguel didn’t think he’d heard Lyla correctly, his posture and face remaining unchanged in the fallout of his discovery.

It was only after three seconds passed, four, five, that he truly heard — understood — what Lyla had said.

“Oh.”

A warmth bled across Miguel’s face, a creeping blush hidden only by the console’s yellow hue. Without another word, Mifuel turned tail, unfurling his arms, unravelling to his broadest potential. He began his descent, his destination clear as day in his mind’s eye.

Lyla’s’s eyes widened further, almost bulging from her head. She called, stammering: “(Y-Y/N) probably didn’t mean it! Not like that! So-so don’t go too hard on ‘er, okay?”

Miguel searched the entire facility for you, his face a concoction of emotions nobody (save for yourself) had ever seen before, thus making his mood indecipherable to all that were not you.

He eventually found you, isolated, in a room. Practically begging for what was to come next. He slipped inside, closed the door behind him.

You turned and smiled, sensing Miguel’s presence; the impression of authority.

“Hey, Miggy!” you chimed, eyes crescents. You turned back to checking off your stock list, paying little heed to the shadow advancing on you.

“Playing innocent, I see,” Miguel’s voice swooped and glided as the greatest bird of prey does, coming to stand mere centimetres behind you, his warmth at your back; a dark sun.

“I thought you’d be at home, caring for our child.” His hands came to sit on your shoulders, heavy and large. For a second, you were befuddled, believing Miguel to be spinning you a riddle. Then, realisation. Your heart dropped; you knew Miguel could feel it. Oh my God, Lyla.

“We…don’t have a child, Miguel,” you laughed, humourless and breathy. You knew you had to play your cards right. Carefully. Miguel gave a heavy, brief chuckle.

“Not yet,” he squeezed your shoulders, hands slipping down the length of your arms, the feeling of spiders creeping along your skin. “But seeing as you’re so keen on calling me daddy, I see no harm in pretending.”

His lips came to your neck, pressing deceptively soft kisses there. 

You were frozen, though a fire stoked within you. One you couldn’t bring yourself to put out.

“After all, I am your DILF, aren’t I?”

You bit your lip, eyes squeezing shut as Miguel’s hands slid to your waist, pulling your back to his front where you felt something thick and large and bulging against your tailbone.

“A baseless accusation, don’t you think ?”

Your breath shuttered. “I didn’t mean it as a bad thing—“

“It doesn’t matter how you meant it. What matters is it’s inaccurate,” Miguel spoke with a stoic logic you’d seen one too many times. He pulled you to him, tighter, closer, his heart pounding against your back.

“But, luckily for you, I’m in a giving mood. I’m not going to punish you for your little transgression. Instead, I’m going to give you an out.” He descended upon your skin again, nipping it between his blunted teeth, the threat of his fangs in your periphery.

“What…what’s that?” You almost didn’t want to ask, your heart creeping up your throat as if to muffle your words.

Miguel’s hand slipped from your waist, sliding sharp fingers down the expanse of your back, leaving trails of goosebumps. You felt his hand come between where the most prominent part of himself and you connected, his knuckles digging into the small of your back. He ran a hand over himself through his suit, palmed himself. His eye twitched. “You just have to be a good girl and lay down and take whatever I give you until I say we’re done.”

His grip on you tightened. You could feel how dark his gaze had become, weighing heavy on you like a robe.

You said nothing – could say nothing.

“Now, you wanna say that again,” his voice was muffled by your skin, his kisses becoming wetter, languid. He pushed himself against you, taking you by the hips and pulling you so he caught you just right. You spied his eye twitch in the reflection of the filing cabinet across from you as you cracked an eye open, a steady redness overtaking Miguel’s stare, his lips turning up at the corners, revealing his fangs.

“Or are you gonna keep that pretty little mouth shut and make me into a real daddy ?”

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterpost

Yandere Masterlist Juicy Original Content <3

[reasonsforhope]

Pairing frogs and toads together might conjure memories of Arnold Lobel’s beloved characters — dressed to the nines in caramel coats and polyester — biking off toward adventure. 

But in the animal world, frogs and toads on nearly every continent are facing a much more harrowing adventure: a decades-long fight against a mysterious fungal virus that has afflicted over 500 amphibian species. 

Since the 1990s, scientists estimate that the chytridiomycosis disease caused by the fungal pathogen Bd (Batrachochytrium dendrobatidis) has led to the extinction of 90 amphibians. One of the lost species includes the Panamanian golden frog, which hasn’t been spotted in the wild since 2009. 

Fortunately, a new research study has finally pinpointed the virus that has been infecting fungal genomes for decades. 

“Bd is a generalist pathogen and is associated with the decline of over 500 amphibian species…here, we describe the discovery of a novel DNA mycovirus of Bd,” wrote Mark Yacoub — the lead author of the study and a microbiology doctoral student at the University of California, Riverside. 

In an interview with UC Riverside News, Yacoub said that he and microbiology professor Jason Stajich observed the viral genome while studying the broader population genetics of mycovirus (viruses of fungi). 

The discovery will undoubtedly have monumental impacts on future amphibian conservation efforts. This includes the possible launching of new research studies into fungal species strains, the practice of cloning and observing spores, and engineering a solution to the virus. 

But Yacoub cautioned that this is only the beginning. 

“We don’t know how the virus infects the fungus, how it gets into the cells,” Yacoub said. “If we’re going to engineer the virus to help amphibians, we need answers to questions like these.”

Still, as scientists strengthen conservation efforts to save frogs and toads (and salamanders too!) they also appear to be saving themselves. Yacoub pointed out several amphibian species around the world have begun exhibiting resistance to Bd. 

“Like with COVID, there is a slow buildup of immunity,” Yacoub explained. “We are hoping to assist nature in taking its course.”

Pictured: A Golden poison frog — one of the many species endangered by chytridiomycosis — in captivity.

Why are frogs and toads so important?

From the get go, every amphibian species plays an important role in their local ecosystem. Not only are they prey for a slew of animals like lizards, snakes, otters, birds, and more, but in an eat-or-be-eaten world, frogs and toads benefit the food chain by doing both. 

Even freshly hatched tadpoles — no bigger than a button — can reduce contamination in their surrounding pond water by nibbling on algae blooms. 

As they grow bigger (and leggier), amphibians snack on whatever insect comes their way, greatly reducing the population of harmful pests and making a considerable dent in the transmission malaria, dengue, and Zika fever by eating mosquito larvae. 

“Frogs control bad insects, crop pests, and mosquitoes,” Yacoub said. “If their populations all over the world collapse, it could be devastating.” 

Yacoub also pointed out that amphibians are the “canary in the coal mine of climate change,” because they are an indicator species. Frogs and toads have permeable skin, making them sensitive to changes in their environment, and they also rely on freshwater. 

When amphibians vanish from an ecosystem, it’s a symptom of greater environmental issues...

Herpetologist Maureen Donnelly echoed Yacoub’s sentiments in an interview with Phys Org, noting that when it comes to food chains, biodiversity, and environmental impact, the role of frogs and toads should not be overlooked. 

“Conservation must be a global team effort,” Donnelly said. “We are the stewards of the planet and are responsible for all living creatures.”

-via GoodGoodGood, April 22, 2024

[lizardboiii]

Tongue Tied┃One Piece

[Protective!Dracule Mihawk x Poneglyph Speaking!Reader]

│Summary: Washed up on a gloomy shore, your only solace is a dark an empty castle. Yet, when the castle's only resident finally returns, you are met with an undeniable problem. The language you speak is completely dead to his world.

"Flailing your hands around isn't going to make me understand you any more."

"𝙵𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎, 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚗𝚘 𝚌𝚕𝚞𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐!"

・❥・

│cw: 18+, SFW, violent undertones, f!reader, mihawk's eyes, terrible nicknames

│wc: 1.8k

│chapters: I II III

│notes: poneglyph writing/speaking in different font. normal font is any other language as written. enjoy <3

・❥・

│Chapter I: Bird of Prey

Squawking.

Soft and high pitch, the incessant cries of seagulls flooded your ears like a symphony. You groaned audibly at the noise. An action you almost instantly regretted as a sudden rush of frigid sea water seeped into your cracked mouth. 

Hacking up a storm, you were quick to come to your, mostly delirious, senses. You laid sprawled out on a strange gloomy shore. The water, almost too calm for your liking, combined with an eerie fog rolling in from the seemingly endless coastline, felt as if you entered purgatory. 

Stumbling to your soaked feet, you tested your balance. Though your legs wavered slightly, you managed to pull yourself from the water’s surprisingly strong tide. You felt like you might be sucked back out to sea. 

Swallowing nervously, you grimaced at the bitter taste of salt still lathered on your tongue. It was a sickly reminder of your current predicament. You were completely stranded, alone. Clenching your eyes shut, you replayed the moments before the disaster. 

Your rickety fishing boat swayed innocently on the open water, unaware of the massive storm brewing overhead. You had no time to prepare, no time to act, no time to ensure any self-preservation. In the blink of an eye, the sky blackened.

The small white capping waves surrounding you abruptly grew in size and violence. Your small boat stood no chance. The futile struggle to stay right side up only lasted moments. With one final wave, your boat capsized from the continuous abuse.  

Shrieking, your body was thrown into the raging sea like a rag doll. You struggled hard against the current, only managing to break the water’s surface every couple of seconds. 

Eventually, your arms grew too tired, too weak, too heavy. It became more of a struggle to convince yourself to stay afloat than to fight the waves dragging you beneath their depths. Then, the world went dark.

Taking a deep breath, you willed away any more dreadful thoughts. The sooner you could find another spare ship the quicker you could go back home.

Scanning your surroundings, you searched for any ships, abandoned or not. Immediately your eyes caught a shocking scene. Nestled far beyond the shore, a massive crumbling castle towered over the island. You couldn't help but remark how fitting it was.

The discovery did little to encourage you. An abandoned castle meant no life, and no life meant no ships. You threaded your fingers through your hair. How could this get any worse?

The sound of thunder mocked your internal monologue. Groaning loudly, you began your venture towards the lonesome castle in an attempt to escape the rapidly forming storm. 

You managed to reach the half point mark before your skin began to crawl. You couldn't help but feel like something, or someone, was watching you through the underbrush. Though you tried to chalk it up to paranoia, you swore you saw something red glowing within the trees. It was just your luck to be marooned on a haunted island.

Whether it was divine intervention or simply uninterest, you managed to reach the chipped steps of the castle unscathed. Although that didn't stop you from hightailing it inside. 

A closer look inside the fortress told you just how regal it once appeared to be: large stained glass windows, tall decorative pillars, and corridors that seemed to stretch for miles. You were in awe from the moment you entered.

In due time, you found your way to an equally extravagant dining room. The wood of the table was scratched and weathered, but ultimately well taken care of. However, the real centerpiece of the room was a massive chair befitting the end.

The plush seat was adorned with gold trim and a deep red leather. You wondered if someone had lugged it in there from the throne room. Swiping a finger across the armrest, you rubbed your fingers together. A thick layer of dust slowly floated to the ground.

You hummed more so to yourself, “𝙼𝚊𝚢𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚒𝚜 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚍.”

Spinning on your heel, you shamelessly plopped yourself down on the gaudy throne. It wouldn't hurt to live in a palace. For a short while at least. You could stay there until you were able to either build another boat or be lucky enough to be rescued.

You smiled, “𝙸𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚑𝚞𝚛𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚊 𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚎𝚗.”

・❥・

After a month of trial and error, it seemed like you greatly overestimated your raft crafting capabilities. The trees on the island were far too thick for you to cut down with no ax, and any driftwood washed up on the beach seemed to crumble from even the gentlest touch.

You were starting to wonder if you’d be trapped there forever. 

That was until you ventured out on your daily search for partly salvageable driftwood. Aloft the gentle waves was an all too strange… ship? Raft? Casket? To be honest, you weren’t exactly sure what it was.

There was only thing you knew for sure, the small vessel was currently barreling towards your remote island. You could barely contain your excitement. 

You were going home.

Dropping the withered planks in your hands, you allowed them to shatter against the plush sand before bolting to get closer with the ship. Your eyes remained locked in on the crossed shaped mast that grew ever closer. Its black sails signaling “Freedom”.

Your tunnel vision made you stumble and trip over your own feet as you ran. And when you weren't running - you were crawling. Your hands desperately clawed at the damp sand in order to lift yourself back to your feet. You could not bear to lose your fleeting chance of leaving your island prison.

Eventually, the gothic ship docked. Its black sails were slowly being pulled into bundles when you finally managed to reach it. And reach it you did. 

You met the ship with little discretion. Squabbling and frantic, you made no effort to contain your emotions in front of the ship’s presumed Captain. Manners could wait until your safety was secured.

Thrusting your hands in the air, you made your presence widely known, “𝙴𝚡𝚌𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚖𝚎!”

The man before you hesitated slightly before releasing his hold on the black stained linen. Turning his obscured face, you noted the lackluster expression he wore. He seemed neither surprised nor unsurprised, merely…inconvenienced.  

“𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚗𝚘 𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚊 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚢 𝙸 𝚊𝚖 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞,” you laughed awkwardly, “𝙸 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗, 𝙼𝚢 𝙶𝚘𝚍, 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝙸 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎? 𝙰 𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚑 𝚋𝚢 𝚗𝚘𝚠!”

The man greeted your pitiful tangent with a stagnant silence. If you hadn't noticed his previous disinterest, you definitely noticed it now. Taking a deep breath, you internally assessed your newly appointed “savior”.

He stood tall, extremely so. He was taller than any man you knew on your home island. You assumed you'd only reach his chest if you stood side by side. However, he certainly did not lack in the muscle department either. He was broad, thick even. You wondered if his shoulders were as firm as they looked.

Gradually, your eyes wandered to an elegantly crafted coat. The dark red of his sleeves were a stark contrast against his unnaturally pale skin which, unsurprisingly, he left on full display. Not that you minded of course.

However, the most striking attribute he bore was his eyes. They shone brighter than any golden jewel found on the Grand Line, rivaling the sun itself. You certain even Helios swooned over his canary colored irises.

Entranced, you allowed yourself to be captivated. The thick black rims surrounding his pupils produced an almost stained glass appearance. All you wanted to do was consume more, read into them like a devout worshiper. It was as if they bore scripture.

You unconsciously shifted forward, trying to get a closer look. That was your first mistake. Abruptly, those very eyes sharpened with hostility, sizing you up like a hawk. It seemed your sudden movement labeled you a threat.

“Who are…”

The temperature felt as if it plummeted. Icy and thick, you didn't need hands around your neck to feel like you were being strangled. You couldn't understand why this was happening, mainly because…

“You?”

You had no idea what he was saying. 

Hands trembling, you stared at the man above you in confusion. You were sure if you did not respond he could, and would, take action. Maybe if you weren't quick enough in answering he’d kidnap you and sell you off for some pocket change. Or worse, he would kill you for just causing him trouble.

You racked your brain for any semblance of a response. What could you have even done to warrant such an intense reaction?

“…𝙸 𝚍𝚘𝚗’𝚝,” You swallowed hard, “𝚄𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚍?”

The tense atmosphere gave way slightly, releasing its invisible hold on your throat. 

Sighing quietly, the ravenette grumbled to himself, “It seems we don’t speak the same language. How inconvenient.”

Annoyed, the taller man searched your person with his honey laced eyes. Satisfied with his findings, he returned his attention back to his vessel. You pondered if your lack of weapons made you into a problem that could be “dealt with later”.

However, you didn't want to be tossed aside until later. You wanted to return home. And if that meant attempting communication with a hostile vampiric asshole, you'd have to try!

“𝚄𝚖,” You scrambled to the other side of the man's ship in an attempt to regain his attention.

“𝚂𝚒𝚛, 𝚠𝚊𝚒𝚝!”

Goldy, newly nicknamed, paid you no mind, favoring to strap down his ship without haste. You chewed on the inside of your cheek in frustration.

Shuffling beside him, you implemented drastic measures. However, your hand only managed to move a centimeter towards Goldy’s arm before your wrist was swiftly snatched in a painful grip.

Not wasting a moment of Goldy’s notice, you began frantically pointing at yourself with your free hand, “𝙸!”

You motioned at the ship, “𝙽𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚘𝚊𝚝!”

Goldy released his iron grip and stood to his full height, “Stop being troublesome.”

“𝙻𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚗 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚗𝚘 𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚊 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝙸 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚘𝚊𝚝. 𝙸 𝚌𝚊𝚗’𝚝 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚖𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎!”

The ravenette merely continued to stare at you disinterested. Perhaps he was debating if cutting you down now would be easier than listening to nonsensical ramblings.

Nevertheless, you waved your hands down your body, “𝙼𝚎!” 

You gestured at his ship, “𝙱𝚘𝚊𝚝!”

You clasped your hands together, “𝙿𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎!”

"Flailing your hands around isn't going to make me understand you any more."

"𝙵𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎, 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚗𝚘 𝚌𝚕𝚞𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐!"

Goldy easily ignored your pestering and walked around you, “I don’t have time for this.”

“𝚆𝚊𝚒𝚝!” You ran after his form, “𝙱𝚘𝚊𝚝! 𝙱𝚘𝚊𝚝! 𝙱𝚘𝚊𝚝!”

You followed Goldy with continued pleas. Yet, his long legs persisted across the desolate beach to the hidden pathway located in the tree line.

Your brows furrowed at the observation. It took you a week to find the secret trail that led from the beach straight to the castle. How could he have found it so easily?

You finally fell silent as Goldy traversed the path like the back of his hand. He walked confidently. It was as if he had been on the island before.

A sudden thought crossed your mind. 

Goldy lived here.

・❥・

[trekkie-polls]

For bonus points tell us if it would be scary or exciting to have run of the whole ship alone. Where would you explore first?

[artifacts-and-arthropods]

Gold Turtle Necklace from Ancient Colchis (modern-day Georgia/South Caucasus) c. 450 BCE: this necklace was crafted from 31 turtle-shaped pendants, each one made of g0ld

The necklace was discovered during excavations at a site known as Vani, in Georgia (the country, not the state). Ancient Vani once served as the religious and administrative center for the Kingdom of Colchis; as I've previously discussed, Colchis was also known as the homeland of the fabled Golden Fleece, and to much of the ancient world, the Colchians themselves were renowned for their skills in goldsmithing.

The turtle pendants on this necklace are all decorated with ornate filigree and granulation patterns. The eyes of the 30 smaller turtles were originally made with glass inlay, while the eyes of the largest turtle (seen in the center) were made from drops of gold.

As this article also notes (translated from Georgian):

[This necklace] is unique because of the zoomorphic depiction that it presents. Among the known examples of goldsmithing from antiquity, the depiction of a turtle is not attested anywhere other than the Vani necklace. 

The local origin of the necklace is primarily indicated by the stylistic unity of the pendants with other examples of Colchian goldsmithing. It should be noted that the land turtle depicted on the pendants was widespread in Colchis.

The excavations at Vani have uncovered lots of other artifacts made by Colchian goldsmiths. These artifacts include temple ornaments, zoomorphic figures, pieces of jewelry, diadems, headdresses, hairpins, drinking vessels, and appliqués, among other things, and they've provided some really valuable insights into the unique goldsmithing traditions that existed among the peoples of Colchis -- and the myths that evolved as a result.

A few of the other golden artifacts from Vani:

Top: headdress ornament featuring an openwork design, c. 350-300 BCE; the central panel of this piece depicts a stag and three other deer, while the frame is topped by two lions and several rows of birds; Bottom: a diadem with a set of temple ornaments, c. 400-350 BCE; all of the panels along the front of the diadem depict scenes of prey animals being hunted by lions

Top: necklace with a series of ram-shaped pendants, c. 400-350 BCE; each pendant was forged from two separate castings that were sealed together to form a complete shape, and the ears/horns were then soldered onto each piece; Bottom: set of bracelets with boar finials, c. 460-440 BCE

Golden appliqués depicting various animals, c. 400-300 BCE

Set of temple ornaments that depict two pairs of riders on horseback, c. 400-350 BCE

And a map showing the location of modern-day Georgia (just for reference):

As this map illustrates, Georgia is nestled right at the crossroads between Europe and Asia, with the Black Sea located on one side and the Caspian not far from the other; it is bordered by Russia to the North and by Turkey, Armenia, and Azerbaijan to the South

Sources & More Info:

National Geographic (Georgian): Golden Kolkheti

Atinati: The Golden Kingdom of Colchis

Smithsonian: Summary of "Wine, Worship, and Sacrifice: the Golden Graves of Ancient Vani" Exhibition

Burusi (Georgian): The Archaeological Discoveries at Vani

Quaternary International: A Modern Field Investigation of the Mythical “Gold Sands” of Ancient Colchis and the “Golden Fleece” Phenomena

[stra-tek]

Klingon D7/K'tinga Battlecruiser continuity DEEP DIVE!

Where it all began in TOS, designed by W. Matt Jeffries. The name D7 was an on-set in-joke between Shatner and Nimoy which stuck.

When Star Trek rebooted it's Klingons for The Motion Picture, they added tons of surface detail to the Klingon Battlecruiser too. The name "K'tinga" was given in the TMP blueprint pack (although the model was called "Koro class") and it stuck. This was considered the Klingons' equivalent to the refitted Enterprise seen in the movie.

Deep Space Nine's "Trials and Tribble-ations" crossed DS9 over with TOS' "The Trouble With Tribbles", and the DS9 VFX crew built all-new physical models for visual effects - and Greg Jein chose to add a green tint and K'tinga-style surface detail to the TOS D7 battlecruiser, making us all wonder if they were really meant to be the same ship type all along.

Voyager's "Prophecy" would show us a Klingon "D7" battlecruiser in the Delta Quadrant. Although called a D7 in the script, the CG model is clearly based upon the TMP K'tinga, with the extra hull detailing.

Doug Drexler designed this ⬆️D4 Battlecruiser for Star Trek: Enterprise's "Unexpected" as a predecessor for the ship seen in TOS. But The Powers That Be decided the ship didn't have enough windows (yes, really) and requested the D7/K'tinga CG model from Voyager be used instead⬇️ putting it's first appearance 150 years earlier in 2151.

For the TOS Remastered HD TOS project, the original look for the Klingon D7 Battlecruiser was retained, albeit in a somewhat low-poly PS2-ish form

The Klingon Warbird, seen during the Kobayashi Maru sequence of the 2009 reboot movie (and more so in the deleted scenes, surrounding the damaged Narada before Nero's imprisonment at Rura Penthe), was literally the TMP K'tinga with extra stuff bolted on and smaller windows implying an upscaling to match the enormous Starfleet ships in the Kelvin universe.

The Pike-era novel Children of Kings would reconcile the huge Klingon Warbird by saying it was a larger version of the Battlecruiser (of course, Klingons are no strangers to upscaling their Bird of Prey) and most feared ship in the Klingon fleet

Fast forward to 2017. Star Trek: Discovery has rebooted the look of the Klingons again and this time their ships as well, ten years prior to TOS. And in "Choose Your Pain" this ship ⬆️ (called Sech-class in behind-the-scenes art) is called a D7. But then fast-forward to season 2, when 5 concurrent series' of Trekspam were planned out, tying more closely into previous canon and Discovery backpedaled somewhat on it's unique designs - and a "new" D7 battlecruiser (a more modest updating of the Klingon D7/K'Tinga design, upscaled like the Kelvinverse version to match the bigger Discovery/Strange New Worlds ships) was planned as a unified design to united the 24 Klingon great houses, ignoring ENT: "Unexpected" and Disco's own "Choose Your Pain":

So yeah, the D7 class may or may not be the same as the K'tinga class, and it appeared "first" in 2151 and again in 2257.

[thoughtlessarse]

A pair of white-tailed eagles in County Fermanagh have become the first to breed in Northern Ireland in more than 150 years. The birds are four years old and were released on the shores of Lough Derg, County Tipperary in 2020. White-tailed eagles were reintroduced to Ireland by the Golden Eagle Trust (GET) and National Parks and Wildlife Service (NPWS) between 2007 and 2011. News of the discovery was welcomed by the Northern Ireland Raptor Study Group (NIRSG) and Royal Society for the Protection of Birds (RSPB). The white-tailed eagle, or ‘sea eagle’, is the UK’s largest bird of prey, standing at almost 1m tall, with a huge wingspan of up to 2.4m and a distinctive white tail, as their name suggests. They can live to over 20 years of age, and usually begin breeding at five years old. The conservation effort was to secure a viable population following extinction from Ireland in the late 19th century. From 2007 to 2011, 100 eagle chicks were brought from Norway and released in Killarney National Park, County Kerry. Phase two of the reintroduction, by NPWS, continued in 2020 with more young birds released at a number of sites across Ireland. Each was wing-tagged, with colours relating to their year of birth and many were fitted with satellite tags to track their locations.

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[defconprime]

M’Chla bird of prey from Star Trek Online

[afewfantasies]

🏔️The Retreat 🏔️- Chapter I

Prologue | Chapter I | Chapter II | Chapter III | Misc references & details

Summary:  Set after the events of the war Gale and Lorena are recovering from what they thought life would be and their new realities. Gale and Lorena were deeply in love with their respective significant others before the war, they had big dreams and grand plans for their futures together. Only it was not to be. Gale takes to a Lakeside retreat in the mountains away from city life when things with Marge don’t go as planned. After a hard breakup and subsequent divorce from her husband Lorena ends up at Gale’s retreat looking for work and a place to stay. This is an angsty fic that follows the themes of love, loss and recovering from trauma. 

Pairing: Gale Cleven x Lorena (black fem oc)

Warnings:  Race is a factor but there will be no overwhelmingly racist outbursts. It is more so a discovery element and explorations, different worlds, a little forbidden love element.

Chapter I - Retreat

*Three Months After Prologue*

The birds woke before everyone, even the sun on some days. Their cheerful chirping allows Lorena to watch the sun rise over the trees and above the mountain. It was a wonder how one day she was traveling scared, heartbroken and lost, then another she’d found this place. The expansiveness of the wilderness the antithesis of everything she had ever known. There was solace in that fact. She’d driven for days, but something stopped her from taking root in other places. There were little things that reminded her of home, of the loneliness and failure she now found as a single woman in a mans world. Families, children, schools, social settings and society life. It was all too raw still. She had never considered the mountains. Although she had enjoyed hotels and banquet halls in her adolescence, the lakeside retreat was the furthest thing from what she expected. A great stone building with many wings for the kind of people she’d never known in the city. It was the perfect place to get lost in, the great beyond was so expansive sometimes it would be impossible to find people even when you went looking. Showering she refreshes herself for the day applying perfumes and fluffing her hair. The prettier she could make herself the better the tips. Fully dressed and in uniform she heads downstairs to see her landlord and employer Gale Cleven. He sits in the same spot as always a man of routine, holding a coffee in his right hand and the paper in the left. Lorena smiles, in appreciation of her unlikely company. it wasn’t something she was conscious of but his routine and predictability brought her peace after years of uncertainty.

“Good morning” Gale says in his even tone.

“Good morning” Lorena responds.

Gale Cleven was her third stop. Unlike the others he was a soldier and his eyes weren't like a predator looking waiting to pick off easy prey. He was quiet and didn’t ask a lot of questions, seeming to want the same in return. It was a dream to Lorena who didn’t want to talk about the past. Thus far he always paid her fairly, and minded his own business. Where his wife was was the greatest mystery of all. Gale was a handsome man, blonde hair, blue eyes, muscular and rich from his lake house retreat. However, his reputation in town was less favourable. He was regarded as a seriously bitter man, who threatened to shoot trespassers and would employ all measures of diversion to maintain his property and the respect he said it deserved. There were scores of scorned women who’d lost their husbands and thus had been denied the passionate trysts they yearned for when they knocked at Gale’s door. He’d turned away more damsel’s than any other man could. He also seemed completely without vice. He ever smoked, never drank and only cursed on rare occasions. He also didn’t talk much to anyone unless something needed to be said. It had taken Lorena some time to get used to the silence and longer still to decide whether Gale liked her or not.

“You have the day off today” he said interrupting Lorenas first sip of tea. She raises a brow in question. “Bunch of rowdy ones arrived late last night - I don’t want any trouble”  Gale says plainly. In his experience men became worse in the presence of a beautiful woman, worse still when they had strong opinions and she was likely to deny their advances like Lorena. In just shy of three months Lorena had come to know no one was a better judge of character and behaviour than Gale.

“Okay” she nods applying jam to her toast. Unlike most men Gale didn’t have to love her to treat her well. She hadn’t arrived batting her long lashes or with a sob story, just well manicured fingernails that looked like they hadn’t done a days worth of honest work in their lives. He’d met his fare share of women from the city, it always took him no time to pick them out. But it was the pain in her eyes that he recognized first, it was the heartbreak that made him give her the job. Lucky for Lorena, Gale didn’t need to like a person to take care of them, he was a Major after all. The safeguarding of others was his forte.

“You have some mail” Gale mutters standing. He heads to a locked drawer pulling out three unopened letters. One is large, the other are undoubtedly personal letters. Gales eyes are attentive as always. Opening the first two Lorena shakes the letters and out fall two cheques. One from her father and the other from Reggie. Enough for her to survive for the next three months with frivolity and not a day of work.

He didn’t need to ask to know what happened to Lorena, he could see the heartbreak in her pretty brown eyes. Still, he respected his commitment to life more than he pitied the heartbreak that befell her. No matter how she sobbed some nights she always came downstairs ready to work without excuse. She had a thing for doing her hair like the starlets of the time. It was good for business to have someone as pretty as her working at his retreat. Service with a smile and surprisingly good conversation for a woman of her standing. She treated everyone equally well, learning about the local fishing from solo travellers and old men and even offering to be a beautician for women on their honeymoon. Her tips were handsome and Gale knew he’d never have another staff member like her. Even if his generous salary offer had been charity at first; she’d earned it. Clearly without needing to work to earn her stay. But he knew better than the most, the key to not being levelled by heartbreak is to keep busy.

“Your folks still worried?” He asks not wanting a search party at his door.

“My mother and sister want me home so I can be remarried” Lorena responds with a bitter smile after briefly looking over the letter.

“Is that such a bad idea?” Gale asks.

Lorena scoffs shaking her head at Gale as she folds the cheques putting them into her breast pocket. “It’s a terrible idea” she responds with folded arms. Her offence is clear.

“I didn’t mean to pry” he says meeting her scowl with surrender. He’d been fearless during the war but something about an angry woman always took him back. It was the only kind of battle he wished to retreat from.

“No you’re just trying to get rid of me” Lorena snaps throwing an accusatory gaze at him. He’d never met a women who could switch from sweet to fierce so quickly.

“I’m not gonna carry on with you Lorena” he warns putting some bass in his voice not wanting an argument. He takes a quick sip of his coffee before putting on his jacket and leaving the house to head into the main lodge. Signing deeply Lorena looks to the large envelope and tears it open to view the finalized divorce decree. Silent tears roll down her eyes. Heading upstairs she takes the safe she’d purchases and places the cheques and letters inside it with all the others. Sobbing silently Lorena loses track of time wallowing in self pity until she hears hooting and hollering from the unruly guests. Sitting in the bay window she watches them scamper around the grounds drunk already before they strip down and head into the lake.

She spends the day writing replies to letters from the past month to each of her parents, her older sister and finally the first since she’s left to Reggie. Looking down at the men returning before dusk she considers a dalliance with one of the young men. It’s been too long since she’s given into the needs of the flesh. So long since shed been desired, since she felt truly desirable, since she’d been held. Since she’d awaken to a strong warm body beside her. Even if it was only for a night perhaps it could do well to quell the loneliness. Twisting her wedding band around her finger, her commitment to Reggie is still too strong. He was who she had wanted then. No one but Reggie would do then and still now. Everyone always told her she was beautiful, men gave her longing looks since she’d began to mature but the words had been empty until Reggie gave them new life and meaning. She wanted to be all the things her friends wanted to be for their beaux’s for him and she was. No preparation was too slight for him to notice, even the change of rouge he saw and complimented. Reggie held his head high as they walked the town together. Everyone could tell it was real and everyone wanted what they had. The feeling was second to none and Lorena had wanted it for everyone too. If it hadn’t been so real perhaps she could go along with an advantageous marriage with an old man. If it wasn’t so real maybe she could stomach moving forward, moving on. If it wasn’t so real maybe she wouldn’t be thousands of miles away crying in her bedroom housed with a stranger.

Giving her wedding band a final twist she removes it placing it into the safe. Maybe the gold would be worth something some day if she fell on hard times. Wiping her tears she gets a tissue blowing her nose. She begins folding the paper placing them in envelopes and lighting candles as the last of the suns embers cast a fading glow on her bedroom. Another day wasted to tears. Putting on the record player only enhances her somber mood she sits folded in her chair with the curtains closed staring into space.

Gale holds the tray as he heads upstairs with hot food. He knocks twice with his elbow hearing the record playing. He’d left men alone all day only to find them no longer living. He’d lost his last man to sadness during the war. With no response he pushes the door open finding Lorena seated at her desk with teary eyes. There’s no judgement in his, he’d been where she was before. He swallows hard placing the tray down in front of her.

“You need to eat something” he says collecting the letters on the table in frnt of her.

Getting a whiff of dinner Lorena smiles wiping her eyes, “Kurt made me Italian style pasta?” She asks.

“Rose stopped by and made it” Gale responds uncovering the pasta dish.

Rose, the mother of his bartender an older woman with a sweet but no nonsense disposition is who he called when he deemed having Lorena working the lodge too much of a headache to him and the others who’d grown protective over the woman.

“She still here?” Lorena asks.

“No, it’s late.” Gale responds.

“Please give her my full days pay” Lorena says taking the fork up.

“I will” Gale responds watching her take a bite. “Do you need me to have these mailed?” He asks looking at the letters on her desk.

“Yes please” she sniffles. He notices the absence of her wedding band on her left hand and puts the letters in his back pocket. He steps back ready to leave without a goodbye. “Gale?” She calls.

“Yes?” He stops turning to face her, no judgement in his eyes.

“It’s just the war right? There’s nothing wrong with me? The war changes people right?” She asks breaking down again. Sighing he closes the distance between them pulling Lorena into an embrace. He’d held countless men during the war, broken men in their last moments wailing as he promised them it would be okay with a terrible pit in his stomach. This was somehow harder holding a woman who was not his and was in his care. Her ex-husband an enemy he couldn’t commit to killing for his slights because they’d fought on the same side of the war. Her sobs soak through his shirt and he strokes her hair whispering assurances to her. Lorena had never been prone to hysteria or sorrow. Her parents had raised her better than that. She was a woman of composure. She’d left her marriage without grandiose demonstrations of emotion and yet somehow with Gale she felt safe. In the mountains, in the middle of nowhere, without friends and slow to making conversations; Gale was as good as it gets for a secret keeper.

“Nothings wrong with you. It’s just the war doll, just the war” he repeats in affirmation. Only the war could make a man crazy enough to leave a good woman like Lorena.

_________

Authors Note:

Thanks for reading lovlies, the second chapter should be out soon. Don't forget to like and comment if you'd like me to continue with this story. 😊😘

[assassinbugs]

If any of these are wrong: Oopsie!

[sticks-and-souls]

Amidst the Chaos

Summary: After a Pantoran discovery offers to turn the tide of the war, Riyo is thrust into the limelight trying to keep her footing around having new political power—and enemies. A failed assassination attempt sees her paired with a squad of the Coruscant Guard, who bring with them protection, family, and a glimpse into the underbelly of the Republic that she begins to realize she isn’t supposed to see. Alone, neither Riyo nor the commanders of the Guard are able to make sense of the plot that seems to be tightening around them, but maybe together they can unravel the mystery before it’s too late.

Hear ye! Hear ye! The foxiyo fic I have been working on for forever is finally here! The Prologue is below! Link to Chapter 1 is after that!

Prologue, Part 1: Unfriendly Fire

The forest looms large around them and Fox signals to spread out through the low underbrush. They are close, he can feel it. It’s only a matter of time until their trap closes around their prey. 

Until then, the mission is a song singing in his blood, his pulse an eager drum. The hunt is before him and his squad is behind him; purpose and belonging ingrained so deeply inside him it may as well have been etched onto his bones. They’ll find their quarry together.

—

Riyo browsed through the scarves lining the rack but none of them called to her and she began to second-guess her decision to come alone. Perhaps a second opinion would have been helpful. But the prospect of a whole afternoon out by herself had been too good to pass up. 

The last month had been so overwhelming that this errand had presented itself as an opportunity to feel comfortable in her own skin. She just wanted a moment without feeling like she was hiding—not in her apartment, behind her politicking face, or from her suddenly endless obligations. Making necessary updates to her wardrobe at the Coruscant Uptown Market had been a three-birds-one-stone for all of them.

She took a deep breath and looked back at a selection of scarves she knew she normally would have leapt at. At least in theory it should have helped her feel more like herself.

—

The forest darkens. 

They slow their pace as the scrape of their armor through the thickening underbrush disrupts the hush that has settled around them. Any sound now could be the difference between hearing their target or giving themselves away.

The trees close around them.

—

“You have fine taste,” the vendor smiled at her. “These were just imported all the way from Mirialan. Would you like to try one on? I was assured that the gold leaf on that jade one is pure Ortherian.”

“I’ll keep looking, but thank you,” Riyo smiled politely. She’d known a handful of Pantorans who could successfully wear green. She was not one of them. And her lack of interest in the scarves was posing an identity crisis she wanted to muddle over by herself. 

“Perhaps the violet?” the vendor pushed. His voice was warm but his smile no longer reached his eyes. 

—

The silence around them becomes absolute and the hair on the back of his neck prickles. He stops. Listens. Not even the birds have come this far.

Fox turns around and fear clenches his gut. His squad is gone. 

He is alone.

The trees around him tower indifferently and he squints through them until they disappear, endless, in the near black. No one else is here. 

His rifle is in his hands and he grips it tightly. If he can just finish the mission, he’ll find them. 

Finish the mission. 

—

Tired of the shopkeeper, Riyo turned to leave. There were plenty of other stalls and boutiques to wander through that would allow her the solitude that she sought today. 

She stepped out of the exit, squinting in the suddenly bright sunlight streaming at her between the towering buildings in front of her. Padme had told her that, once upon a time, the Uptown Market really had been at the true height of Coruscant but the levels continued being built ever skyward around it from the moment it had been completed.

She closed her eyes and tried to let the beam of sunlight soak into her. 

—

There! A cloak whirls in the distance and Fox sprints forward in pursuit. The forest rushes past him and he closes the distance in an instant. 

He leaps, tackles the cloaked figure, draws his fist as the hood falls away. 

Chancellor Palpatine’s unblinking visage stares back at him. 

Fox draws back, alarmed, but Palpatine doesn’t appear surprised or confused. Just stares, scrutinizes, as Fox helps him stand. 

That means the enemy is still out here. 

He gathers his rifle and takes a defensive stance in front of the Chancellor. He peers once more into the immutable forest and swallows around the dread rising up his throat. 

Something is about to happen. 

—

The awning post next to Riyo exploded, showering her with splinters.

Through the scream that tore from her throat she could hear the echos of a sharp crack reverberating through the towering buildings around her. 

She flinched so intensely that she fell and began scrambling away, shaking, when a scorch mark blasted across the ground just in front of her, so close she could feel the heat of it on her face. The echoing crack followed again and a chorus of screams from other patrons in the market began joining her own.

—

Fox is knocked forward off his feet and the pain buried between his shoulder blades is so intense he knows he’s been shot. 

He scrapes himself along the ground to turn back. He has to protect the Chancellor.

Except when he drags himself up with his forearm, it is Palpatine who is holding the blaster directed at him. 

Palpatine who shot him.

But…but that doesn’t make sense. 

He’s a good soldier. 

He follows orders.

Shadows begin to materialize from the murky depths of the forest. His squad! Except…

They surround him, closing in, blasters drawn. 

—

The roof of the stall she had been browsing creaked under the strain of the shattered post and Riyo rolled towards it as it collapsed forward, blocking her from the exposure of the market street. Another shot fired through the roof but it went well clear of her as she dragged herself further inward, away from her unseen assailant.

Her panicked breaths choked on the dust and debris clouding around the stall as she curled herself up behind the register counter, tightly grasped her knees close to her chest with trembling hands, and squeezed her eyes shut, alone. 

—

The last thing Fox sees is Palpatine staring malevolently back at him as his vision fades.

Fox’s eyes shot open and he lurched out of bed, blaster gripped in his trembling hands.

But he was alone in his bunk. It was just a dream.

Read Chapter 1

A couple of acknowledgements:

I fell into foxiyo on tumblr (like many of us) with the initial "wait, what?" reaction (like many of us), but I very easily began to agree with you all that, wow yeah they are definitely well-matched despite having no interaction in canon, and there were a couple of artists posting work that captured their chemistry so well and are the reason I fell so hard for Riyo and Fox.

So, (with absolutely ZERO pressure to any of you to read this fic) big shout-out to @amukmuk (go find their ao3 for all of the soft and aching foxiyo content your heart could desire), @muguathepapaya for their sweet slice-of-life fanart, and @lornaka because their foxiyo art is so yearning but also because I'm pretty sure this specific work was the original spark of muse for me writing this entire fic. Something in their expressions just clicked for me and I had to know who these characters were together and how they got together in the first place (also this one tbh). Finally, special thanks to @mithrandirl and @ladysongmaster for your support on my writing posts <3

[evolutionsvoid]

As folks trapped in this war can tell you, it can always get worse. Like the discovery of the Arimakki that infested an entire mine, which was awful, but soon the feverish bugs were spreading across the land like wildfire. Or how bandits now run wild since the Church called forth every able body to fight, but when platoons of gold sworn warriors finally show up, they usually bring a chunk of the war with them. Many people stuck in this hopeless situation have long accepted this fact. To them, there is no bottom, no lowest point. Even when you think you've lost everything, someone will quickly show up to steal something you didn't even realize could be taken. So when the diseased barnacle goose breed started to get out of hand, there were those who were waiting in silence to see what new horrors would come from this. To no one's surprise, they were quickly proven right.

With the war removing potential hunters and fighters from population control of these horrid birds, their numbers found little threat. And with short supply of medicine to cure the terrible disease they carry, more and more victims became mindless living nests for their young. Thus their population grew even more. Now entire flocks of these infectious geese were running rampant, bringing terror whenever breeding season kicked in. But their population boom came at a price, as more geese meant they needed more hosts. Unfortunately, these birds appear to be unaware that a massive war is going on, which means the supply of fresh living bodies can quickly become scarce. What this leads to is more birds than infected hosts, and thus fighting over the resulting nests. In many cases, the largest and strongest of the barnacle geese wins and stakes its claim. The withering husk of a host will become theirs and theirs alone. However, there can be times when this isn't the end result.

When it comes to larger hosts, be it a bigger species or even a bulked up human, there may be the impression that there is enough to go around. Larger size and more meat means more nutrients for their parasitic young and more places for them to inject their eggs. These bigger soon-to-be nests become difficult to protect for a single barnacle goose, meaning many more birds can swarm in and lay their eggs. What comes from this is a host that is absolutely overloaded with barnacle goose eggs, even with their larger size. More young means more leeching of nutrients from their body, and a heavier weight to their petrifying form. Even worse, the multiple parents responsible for these eggs means that they squabble and fight over who nests upon the neck stump, and in most cases all the geese get so worked up that they wind up abandoning the whole endeavor. No parent shall stick around, and the growing young will rely more and more on the host to provide. In many cases, this living nest is doomed, unable to keep up with the demanding barnacles and the eggs themselves fail to get enough to fully form. Some adult geese may bud off from this nest, but most starve to death alongside their host, being reduced to a drained withered tree. However, there are rare cases where it doesn't end in miserable failure.

In some instances, the bulky host will be able to survive the surplus of barnacles and move to areas where the young can find enough food to get by. The controlled victim will be driven to seek out nutrients, be it stagnant humors, random critters or even larger prey. They use long gnarled claws to tear apart food and then give the bite-sized morsels to the eager beaks. While this does prevent the barnacles from starving to death, this famished state they dip in and out of stunts their growth. The young are unable to properly develop without the constant flow of food, as their host is also lacking enough nutrients for them to all leech. Their growth cycle into a flying adult is aborted, and instead they slowly morph into a strange half stage. Instead of wings and a bird body, their barnacle shell grows larger and thicker. Their simple beak for feeding turns into a goose head, but that is the only part that comes out normal. The end result is a sessile goose stage, where they retain the heavy shell, but now have an extendable head that can properly see, vocalize and get food. This is so the stunted forms can more easily obtain food, not relying fully on the host. Their super long necks means they can stretch out to nab passing insects, or help their nest take down prey.

These rare occurrences have gained the name "barnacle brute," due to their huge bulk and barnacle encrusted bodies. Their mass means that the tree-turning disease cannot shrivel them down to the bone, which gives them more mobility than the emaciated nests. The layers of barnacles also give them a sort of living armor. However, the load of hungry geese means they are constantly hunting for food, the need to feed upping their aggression. Barnacle brutes will attack any living thing they come across, using gnarled claws, razor shells, their own bulk and the honking heads to do the job. The stunted geese join the fight, launching their heads forward to act like biting tendrils, often pecking foes to death. With large clusters of them, the force of their combined attack can send enemies flying from the explosion of beaks. They may snare prey to keep them still for the brute to finish them off, and folk who had the misfortune of facing one of these abominations states that their ceaseless honking and hissing makes the battle deafening and disorienting.

While they are thankfully rare, barnacle brutes are just another nightmarish monstrosity now stalking these war-torn lands. Their hunger is bottomless and their honking is maddening. Those who try to slay them will have to deal with their thickened skin, armored growths and hissing beaks. With the malformed geese controlling them with their parasitic connection, they can survive injuries that would normally be fatal. And forget trying to ambush them, as their many heads are always on the look out for food. The key is taking out these heads and killing the barnacle geese, as they are the ones puppeteering the host. The more barnacles that perish, the less precise and mobile the brute becomes. While it isn't impossible to slay them, do remember it may not be a battle worth fighting. These stunted geese carry the disease, and can infect others with their fluids. If you don't have medicine available for after the battle, you may wind up taking the fallen brute's place...

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

"Barnacle Brute"

Ol "Anser of Ebrietas" over here! Have fun fighting that!