#he is like a small mammal or maybe some kind of bug to me. little menace of all time

[rooniearts]

PWETTY PWEASE DRAW LINK WINDWAKER HES LITTLE GUY OF ALL TIME

anything for you tenny bee <3

[luci-four]

Catnap {Diavolo x Reader/MC}

A/N: a fic in which i wanted diavolo to experience PAIN but also know he is L O V E D because i couldnt help but remember that he once said asmo never invites him to parties and it broke my frozen heart,

{Diavolo x Reader/MC}

Diavolo’s eyes were downcast as he walked along, listening to Barbatos drone on about his schedule for the rest of the day. Of course, he knew it was important and definitely something he needed to do as it was his duty, yet, he couldn’t help but long for a sense of freedom. He longed for a time he could simply be himself, not worry about his princely duties—he longed for something, he just wasn’t quite sure what. Of course, he knew Barbatos was simply doing his own job, but it didn’t stop the prince from zoning out. He could hear the shorter man give an exasperated sigh before repeating his last few sentences. Maybe a walk around R.A.D.’s campus would help him focus.

It wasn’t helping. He sighed during the entire walk, each time getting a little more dramatic; he hunched his shoulders and slouched a bit more with each heave, dragging his feet along the ground as though he were a toddler throwing a temper-tantrum. His pitch was whiny, and he secretly did feel bad for his unbecoming behaviour towards Barbatos, but he couldn’t help himself.  

As though it were a beam of light on a cloudy day, something had caught his attention from the corner of his eye, and turned his entire mood around. Without raising Barbatos’ suspicion—or so he thought—his gaze honed in on a small, stray kitten walking along the path behind the shorter man. His face instinctually turned to one mixed with shock and adoration, both attempted to hide behind the thin veil of collectiveness. Golden eyes kept flickering from his butler to the tiny mammal behind him.

“As I said before, after meeting with Lucifer to go over the budget for...” Barbatos scrunched his nose before interrupting himself. “My lord, you aren’t paying attention again.”

“What?” Diavolo’s shoulders stiffened as he let out a half-hearted laugh, “Of course I am!”

“.....What are you distracted by?”

“It’s nothing! Wait--”  

Before Diavolo’s outstretched hand could stop him, Barbatos turned to lock eyes with the kitten that had caught his liege's attention. He held his stare as if the two of them had a contest going without so much as a word, until the kitten had meowed up at him.

“It’s talking to you!”

“I wish it wouldn’t.”

“Don’t be mean to it, it’s cute!”

“My lord, we do need to get through this schedule for the day--”

“I’d much rather sit with this kitten.”

Diavolo quickly jumped at the chance to get down on all fours to level with the kitten, ignoring Barbatos’ pleas for him to not ruin his uniform. He cooed as the kitten rubbed against his face, meowing softly at him in response to his badly-attempted meows, and rolled onto its back to play with one of the pendants hanging off of his coat. A genuine laugh erupted from the man as he pet the creature.

“I’m glad you’re thoroughly enjoying yourself, Lord Diavolo, however we do need to get going now--”

“I’ve decided to keep it!”

“Absolutely not.”

“What!”

Like a child who was told no in the toy store—or a better comparison would have been a kicked puppy—Diavolo looked up at him with pleading eyes and a pouting lip. He mumbled to himself, about being the prince and frankly doing whatever he’d like, as though he truly were a child.

“My lord, a cat in the castle would be a terrible idea. You are too busy to see to one--”

“You could do it!”

“--and I’m too busy ensuring you’re taken care of to worry about the cat as well.”

Diavolo groaned and rose to his feet, keeping his back towards Barbatos. After agreeing that he would be right, he attempted to walk off and change the subject towards the schedule Barbatos was so adamant about, only to jolt to a stop as the butler cleared his throat.

“My lord--”

“I thought you said we were busy!” Diavolo chuckled, attempting to continue again, “Let’s go!”

“The cat, my lord.”

“It ran into the bushes--”

“Please take the cat out of your coat pocket.”

Hanging his head as he was caught, he placed the kitten gently onto the path, watching it scamper away, chasing after some sort of bug. He crossed his arms and jutted his lip out into a pout, keeping his glare just a tad icy towards Barbatos. Again, he was aware he was just doing his job, but the kitten was so adorable and just the distraction he felt that he needed, and his friend simply just wouldn’t allow him to have it; so, he listened. He listened intensively, absorbing each word Barbatos had thrown him and repeated key points to prove he had listened. His eyes, however, flickered to the small animal who kept running in and out of the bushes, tempting his willpower and attention an embarrassing amount.

Before he had realized it, however, one of the seven brothers had also been walking along campus. Noticing the two of them talk, Satan minded his own business and only stopped as a kitten randomly appeared in his path. Without so much as a second thought, he scooped the animal up and kept on his way, not realizing the heartbroken, utter shock that had washed over the Devildom’s prince.

“That seems to be the end of it, Lord Diavolo. Shall we move on to our meeting--”

“Did you see that!”

Barbatos tilted his head and looked behind him where Diavolo had been pointing; he used all of his might not to raise an eyebrow at his boss.

“See... what, exactly?”

“The--”

“If you’re going to mention the cat again, then please forgive me for cutting you off. We simply cannot have the cat.”

“But Satan took it!”

“Ah, then you should take solace in knowing that cat is well taken care of. Now, moving on to our meeting, my lord.”

Without so much as another word, Barbatos ushered Diavolo off towards their next location, the cat never left his mind.

***

By the end of the day, MC had noticed something weighing on the prince. He seemed sluggish, lost in thought, a million miles away in those eyes as they sat across the room from him. During the rare moment he sat alone, MC approached him casually.

“Hey,” they leaned against the edge of his desk, “something on your mind?”

“Oh? Was it obvious?”

“I’m just a really good guesser.”

Diavolo leaned back in his chair and shot them an award-winning smile, the hearty, whimsical laugh he’s known for followed suit.

“Then that must be your version of magic, interesting. I’ll admit there is something on my mind that I just can’t shake.”

“Care to tell me what it is?”

Before MC could even get the last syllable out, Diavolo slammed his hands on the desk and stood instantly. He leaned in towards them with wide eyes and a slight pout, not noticing that his sudden closeness caused MC to swallow hard.

“Satan took my cat!”

“..... I’m sorry, what?”

“My cat! He took it!”

“You... had a cat?”

“Yes! No! Kind of?”

“Diavolo, not to sound rude but... I’m really not following.”

He sat back down and bit the inside of his cheek, sighing heavily before explaining himself.

“There was this kitten, outside, it was absolutely adorable. The roundest little face, big eyes, soft fur—it was tiny, too! Just the perfect little thing, and I wanted to take it home! Take care of it! But--”

“But?” MC dragged out their syllables.

“But,” Diavolo mimicked their actions, “Barbatos said it was impossible to take care of a cat as of now. He refused to let me take it, and not only that, but I had to watch in silence as Satan came along and took the cat as his own!”

“Well, if Satan took it--”

“Then it’s in good hands, yes, Barbatos said the same; that isn’t the point!”  

Diavolo held his tongue on what truly bothered him, hoping that MC-the-great-guesser wouldn’t take notice that his burst of emotions dug much deeper than just a little cat he met outside. A thought passed his mind and it clicked for him—a plan—he'd have to think more about. He composed himself, stood up and straightened out his coat before shooting another large, fake smile towards the human.

“Anyway, I have other meetings to get to, unfortunately. It is my duty, after all. My apologies for being so... emotional, but thank you for lending me your time.”

MC’s eyes followed as he stiffly walked from the room. He may have been the prince of Devildom, but MC couldn’t hide the smile on their lips towards his childish behaviour they grew to find endearing. They did wonder what deeper emotions were hidden behind his need for the cat, however.

***

Relaxing by the window, MC was startled to hear a light knock against the glass in the middle of the night. Terrified, they very slowly turned their head to meet face to face with a disheveled prince, smiling from ear to ear. Tossing fear and confusion aside, they rushed to open the window and called out to him in a hushed tone.

“Diavolo? What are you doing here? I mean... here, and also, at my window.” They grabbed his hands and helped him start to climb in. “There is a front door, you know. I’m pretty sure Lucifer wants you to use it. Should I let him know you’re here--”

“No!” Diavolo cried as he fell forward through the window. He sat up as though nothing had happened. “I’m here in secret, please keep it between the two of us!”

“Al...right, but why exactly are you here? Not that I’m not happy to see you, but it is the middle of the night, and you know it seems...” They couldn’t finish their statement due to nerves and turned away to keep the red on their cheeks hidden.

“Hm? Oh, about that!” He stood up suddenly, “I’m going on an adventure! Come with me!”

“Shh! You’re the one who said this was a ‘secret visit’, so keep your voice down!”

“Right!” He lowered his voice, “I’m going on an adventure, so come with me.”

“Where exactly is your adventure going to lead us? Does Barbatos know--”

“No, he does not and he doesn’t need to!”  

Diavolo’s eyebrows were drawn together, nose scrunched in irritation. He sighed and shook his head, forcing an apologetic smile on his lips.

“My apologies, I mean, this isn’t a matter that concerns Barbatos. I came to you for assistance this time, I thought perhaps we could have some fun; what do you say?”

MC twisted their lips to the side, eyeing whatever the tall man was hiding; it didn’t take much to see that he was, in fact, hiding something... but what was it? They nodded, agreeing to whatever plan he may have, knowing they couldn’t just let the prince of Devildom run off and make childish mistakes on his own. MC would get in trouble with Barbatos at that point, and they shivered at the thought of being on bad terms with him. Once they silently agreed, Diavolo captured their hand in his—blind to the eruption of blush across their face—and quickly slipped into the hall.

They were dragged along as Diavolo tiptoed dramatically, peeking around corners and hiding in the shadows. MC was flung around as though they were some sort of paper doll. Diavolo seemed way too out of his element to sneak around properly, so MC called out to him quietly to have him take a moment and explain just what he was doing.

“Stop, stop. You’re terrible at this. Where are you going anyway? The front door isn’t up the stairs--”

“Our destination is, though!” He said in a hushed shout, his movements a bit antsy. “We have to go up.”

“To where, exactly?”

“Hush!”

He covered their mouth with his hand, oblivious to how it caused their heart flutter, he focused his attention to the sound of walking in the hallway behind them. Diavolo rushed them along, stopping at a door and quickly attempting to jiggle his way through the lock. MC faced the hallway, wary of the approaching footsteps and faint voices as they kept watch; Diavolo simply used magic to unlock the handle, and pulled MC in so quick he literally swept them off of their feet. Both of them held an ear against the door and heard as two of the brothers made their way back to their rooms. Before MC could give a sigh of relief, they could hear Diavolo cooing at something in a baby tone. A light bulb went off in their head as they slowly turned to face the room, a look of distaste, disbelief, and irritation graced their features.

“We broke into Satan’s room.”

“Yes!” Diavolo held the kitten up to his face, laughing as it give his cheek a few kisses.

“A cat.”

“Yes!”

“We broke in... to Satan’s room,” MC put heavy emphasis on Satan being the owner, “to steal a cat.”

“Yes.”

“Diavolo!” MC shouted before quickly quieting back down, “We’re dead if we’re caught in here! Well, I will be. You’re the prince of Devildom, you probably won’t be. But I will be. Satan is going to get pissed, oh my god, I’m going to die, aren’t I? I am. I’m going to die. I’m--”

Diavolo held the kitten up to MC’s face, the latter stopping their rant in their tracks as the kitten gave their nose a few kisses. They couldn’t stop themselves from getting red at how cute the prince seemed to smile at them, but they forced disapproval on their features.

“He had the kitten I wanted. I couldn’t simply ask him for it, even if he agreed, Barbatos would make me return it.”

“What difference is that opposed to stealing it?”

Diavolo sat on the ground and stared at the kitten in his hands, a faraway look of longing replaced his usual cheerful smile. MC refused to let him play it off again.

“What’s actually eating at you?”

“The difference, I guess...” he couldn’t meet their eye and instead focused on petting the cat, “is the adventure. The ability to do something so ridiculous for the thrill and fun of it all. Throwing aside the fact that I’m the prince, for once. Just being a person, since people don’t tend to treat me that way. I thought... if I could have this cat, even after being told no, I could have a sense of freedom. It sounds absolutely ridiculous hearing myself say it out loud. Definitely not the presence a ruler should have, huh?”

His sad smile broke MC’s heart in two. Without a word, they moved next to him; he thought they were going to pet the cat so he offered it to them, but their hand landed on top of his head instead. Their voice was quiet and filled with honey, each word dripping with sincerity.  

“I dunno. I think you’re pretty neat. I like hanging out with you, as you are.”

It was Diavolo’s turn to look dazed with wide eyes and a blush across his face. He quickly composed himself with a tender smile and a whimsical laugh; there were quite a few things running through his mind that he wished he could say to MC, but nothing would come out clear enough. Instead, the two of them resided in a peaceful silence, his smile and relaxed shoulders showed how thankful he was to hear that from them. They had gotten lost in the peace, petting the kitten and playing around with the spunky little thing, they hadn’t heard anything come up behind them, nor had they felt the frightful aura shift in the area.

“What are you two doing in my room?”

[eyelinerda3euro]

The Carrier Bag Theory of Fiction

In the temperate and tropical regions where it appears that hominids evolved into human beings, the principal food of the species was vegetable. Sixty-five to eighty percent of what human beings ate in those regions in Paleolithic, Neolithic, and prehistoric times was gathered; only in the extreme Arctic was meat the staple food. The mammoth hunters spectacularly occupy the cave wall and the mind, but what we actually did to stay alive and fat was gather seeds, roots, sprouts, shoots, leaves, nuts, berries, fruits, and grains, adding bugs and mollusks and netting or snaring birds, fish, rats, rabbits, and other tuskless small fry to up the protein. And we didn’t even work hard at it — much less hard than peasants slaving in somebody else’s field after agriculture was invented, much less hard than paid workers since civilization was invented. The average prehistoric person could make a nice living in about a fifteen-hour work week.

Fifteen hours a week for subsistence leaves a lot of time for other things. So much time that maybe the restless ones who didn’t have a baby around to enliven their life, or skill in making or cooking or singing, or very interesting thoughts to think, decided to slope off and hunt mammoths. The skillful hunters would come staggering back with a load of meat, a lot of ivory, and a story. It wasn’t the meat that made the difference. It was the story.

It is hard to tell a really gripping tale of how I wrestled a wild-oat seed from its husk, and then another, and then another, and then another, and then another, and then I scratched my gnat bites, and Ool said something funny, and we went to the creek and got a drink and watched newts for a while, and then I found another patch of oats.... No, it does not compare, it cannot compete with how I thrust my spear deep into the titanic hairy flank while Oob, impaled on one huge sweeping tusk, writhed screaming, and blood sprouted everywhere in crimson torrents, and Boob was crushed to jelly when the mammoth fell on him as I shot my unerring arrow straight through eye to brain.

That story not only has Action, it has a Hero. Heroes are powerful. Before you know it, the men and women in the wild-oat patch and their kids and the skills of makers and the thoughts of the thoughtful and the songs of the singers are all part of it, have all been pressed into service in the tale of the Hero. But it isn’t their story. It’s his.

When she was planning the book that ended up as Three Guineas, Virginia Woolf wrote a heading in her notebook, “Glossary”; she had thought of reinventing English according to her new plan, in order to tell a different story. One of the entries in this glossary is heroism, defined as “botulism.” And hero, in Woolf’s dictionary, is “bottle.” The hero as bottle, a stringent reevaluation. I now propose the bottle as hero.

Not just the bottle of gin or wine, but bottle in its older sense of container in general, a thing that holds something else.

If you haven’t got something to put it in, food will escape you — even something as uncombative and unresourceful as an oat. You put as many as you can into your stomach while they are handy, that being the primary container; but what about tomorrow morning when you wake up and it’s cold and raining and wouldn’t it be good to have just a few handfuls of oats to chew on and give little Oom to make her shut up, but how do you get more than one stomachful and one handful home? So you get up and go to the damned soggy oat patch in the rain, and wouldn’t it be a good thing if you had something to put Baby Oo Oo in so that you could pick the oats with both hands? A leaf a gourd shell a net a bag a sling a sack a bottle a pot a box a container. A holder. A recipient.

The first cultural device was probably a recipient.... Many theorizers feel that the earliest cultural inventions must have been a container to hold gathered products and some kind of sling or net carrier.

So says Elizabeth Fisher in Women’s Creation (McGraw-Hill, 1975). But no, this cannot be. Where is that wonderful, big, long, hard thing, a bone, I believe, that the Ape Man first bashed somebody in the movie and then, grunting with ecstasy at having achieved the first proper murder, flung up into the sky, and whirling there it became a space ship thrusting its way into the cosmos to fertilize it and produce at the end of the movie a lovely fetus, a boy of course, drifting around the Milky Way without (oddly enough) any womb, any matrix at all? I don’t know. I don’t even care. I’m not telling that story. We’ve heard it, we’ve all heard about all the sticks and spears and swords, the things to bash and poke and hit with, the long, hard things, but we have not heard about the thing to put things in, the container for the thing contained. That is a new story. That is news.

And yet old. Before — once you think about it, surely long before — the weapon, a late, luxurious, superfluous tool; long before the useful knife and ax; right along with the indispensable whacker, grinder, and digger — for what’s the use of digging up a lot of potatoes if you have nothing to lug the ones you can’t eat home in — with or before the tool that forces energy outward, we made the tool that brings energy home. It makes sense to me. I am an adherent of what Fisher calls the Carrier Bag Theory of human evolution.

This theory not only explains large areas of theoretical obscurity and avoids large areas of theoretical nonsense (inhabited largely by tigers, foxes, and other highly territorial mammals); it also grounds me, personally, in human culture in a way I never felt grounded before. So long as culture was explained as originating from and elaborating upon the use of long, hard objects for sticking, bashing, and killing, I never thought that I had, or wanted, any particular share in it. (“What Freud mistook for her lack of civilization is woman’s lack of loyalty to civilization,” Lillian Smith observed.) The society, the civilization they were talking about, these theoreticians, was evidently theirs; they owned it, they liked it; they were human, fully human, bashing, sticking, thrusting, killing. Wanting to be human too, I sought for evidence that I was; but if that’s what it took, to make a weapon and kill with it, then evidently I was either extremely defective as a human being, or not human at all.

That’s right, they said. What you are is a woman. Possibly not human at all, certainly defective. Now be quiet while we go on telling the Story of the Ascent of Man the Hero.

Go on, say I, wandering off towards the wild oats, with Oo Oo in the sling and little Oom carrying the basket. You just go on telling how the mammoth fell on Boob and how Cain fell on Abel and how the bomb fell on Nagasaki and how the burning jelly fell on the villagers and how the missiles will fall on the Evil Empire, and all the other steps in the Ascent of Man.

If it is a human thing to do to put something you want, because it’s useful, edible, or beautiful, into a bag, or a basket, or a bit of rolled bark or leaf, or a net woven of your own hair, or what have you, and then take it home with you, home being another, larger kind of pouch or bag, a container for people, and then later on you take it out and eat it or share it or store it up for winter in a solider container or put it in the medicine bundle or the shrine or the museum, the holy place, the area that contains what is sacred, and then next day you probably do much the same again — if to do that is human, if that’s what it takes, then I am a human being after all. Fully, freely, gladly, for the first time.

Not, let it be said at once, an unaggressive or uncombative human being. I am an aging, angry woman laying mightily about me with my handbag, fighting hoodlums off. However I don’t, nor does anybody else, consider myself heroic for doing so. It’s just one of those damned things you have to do in order to be able to go on gathering wild oats and telling stories.

It is the story that makes the difference. It is the story that hid my humanity from me, the story the mammoth hunters told about bashing, thrusting, raping, killing, about the Hero. The wonderful, poisonous story of Botulism. The killer story.

It sometimes seems that the story is approaching its end. Lest there be no more telling of stories at all, some of us out here in the wild oats, amid the alien corn, think we’d better start telling another one, which maybe people can go on with when the old one’s finished. Maybe. The trouble is, we’ve all let ourselves become part of the killer story, and so we may get finished along with it. Hence it is with a certain feeling of urgency that I seek the nature, subject, words of the other story, the untold one, the life story.

It’s unfamiliar, it doesn’t come easily, thoughtlessly, to the lips as the killer story does; but still, “untold” was an exaggeration. People have been telling the life story for ages, in all sorts of words and ways. Myths of creation and transformation, trickster stories, folktales, jokes, novels....

The novel is a fundamentally unheroic kind of story. Of course the Hero has frequently taken it over, that being his imperial nature and uncontrollable impulse, to take everything over and run it while making stern decrees and laws to control his uncontrollable impulse to kill it. So the Hero has decreed through his mouthpieces the Lawgivers, first, that the proper shape of the narrative is that of the arrow or spear, starting here and going straight there and THOK! hitting its mark (which drops dead); second, that the central concern of narrative, including the novel, is conflict; and third, that the story isn’t any good if he isn’t in it.

I differ with all of this. I would go so far as to say that the natural, proper, fitting shape of the novel might be that of a sack, a bag. A book holds words. Words hold things. They bear meanings. A novel is a medicine bundle, holding things in a particular, powerful relation to one another and to us.

One relationship among elements in the novel may well be that of conflict, but the reduction of narrative to conflict is absurd. (I have read a how-to-write manual that said, “A story should be seen as a battle,” and went on about strategies, attacks, victory, etc.) Conflict, competition, stress, struggle, etc., within the narrative conceived as carrier bag/belly/box/house/medicine bundle, may be seen as necessary elements of a whole which itself cannot be characterized either as conflict or as harmony, since its purpose is neither resolution nor stasis but continuing process.

Finally, it’s clear that the Hero does not look well in this bag. He needs a stage or a pedestal or a pinnacle. You put him in a bag and he looks like a rabbit, like a potato.

That is why I like novels: instead of heroes they have people in them.

So, when I came to write science-fiction novels, I came lugging this great heavy sack of stuff, my carrier bag full of wimps and klutzes, and tiny grains of things smaller than a mustard seed, and intricately woven nets which when laboriously unknotted are seen to contain one blue pebble, an imperturbably functioning chronometer telling the time on another world, and a mouse’s skull; full of beginnings without ends, of initiations, of losses, of transformations and translations, and far more tricks than conflicts, far fewer triumphs than snares and delusions; full of space ships that get stuck, missions that fail, and people who don’t understand. I said it was hard to make a gripping tale of how we wrested the wild oats from their husks, I didn’t say it was impossible. Who ever said writing a novel was easy?

If science fiction is the mythology of modern technology, then its myth is tragic. “Technology,” or “modern science” (using the words as they are usually used, in an unexamined shorthand standing for the “hard” sciences and high technology founded upon continuous economic growth), is a heroic undertaking, Herculean, Promethean, conceived as triumph, hence ultimately as tragedy. The fiction embodying this myth will be, and has been, triumphant (Man conquers earth, space, aliens, death, the future, etc.) and tragic (apocalypse, holocaust, then or now).

If, however, one avoids the linear, progressive, Time’s-(killing)-arrow mode of the Techno-Heroic, and redefines technology and science as primarily cultural carrier bag rather than weapon of domination, one pleasant side effect is that science fiction can be seen as a far less rigid, narrow field, not necessarily Promethean or apocalyptic at all, and in fact less a mythological genre than a realistic one.

It is a strange realism, but it is a strange reality.

Science fiction properly conceived, like all serious fiction, however funny, is a way of trying to describe what is in fact going on, what people actually do and feel, how people relate to everything else in this vast stack, this belly of the universe, this womb of things to be and tomb of things that were, this unending story. In it, as in all fiction, there is room enough to keep even Man where he belongs, in his place in the scheme of things; there is time enough to gather plenty of wild oats and sow them too, and sing to little Oom, and listen to Ool’s joke, and watch newts, and still the story isn’t over. Still there are seeds to be gathered, and room in the bag of stars. by Ursula K. Le Guin

[bicon-korra]

Entrapta Week: Free Day

Beast Island Log: Property of Entrapta

Summary: Entrapta logs her daily life on Beast Island and starts to uncover a mystery…

[Written for Entrapta Week - Day 7 (Free Day), 1,700 words, notes in tags]

Beast Island Log: Day 1, Entry 1

My name is Entrapta of Dryl. I was banished from the Horde to Beast Island on Force Captain Catra’s command. Before leaving the Horde, I managed to sneak one of my precious voice recorders with me. I may be a prisoner, but I’m still a scientist, after all! 

When I first heard tales of Beast Island, I imagined this mythical land inhabited by savage creatures. No one, and I mean no one, told me what a treasure trove of First One’s tech this is! The possibilities for transport, shelter, food gathering, you name it, are endless! I don’t know how anyone can dispose of such beautiful equipment! One man’s trash is another’s treasure, I suppose. I just need to figure out how to clean up their data. It looks like most, if not all, the files are corrupted. Should be simple enough.

Beast Island Log: Day 1, Entry 2

I suppose I should introduce myself. I am a princess of Dryl, where I was born and spent most of my life. In a strange turn of events, I joined the Princess Alliance led by Princess Glimmer of Bright Moon and her co-leader Adora-slash-She-Ra. I was left behind in the Fright Zone on a dangerous mission, and that became my new home. The name sounds scary—kind of like Beast Island—but it’s not as bad as it sounds! I was actually pretty happy there. I had friends: Scorpia, Hordak, my dear Emily...Catra was my friend, too. And then she wasn’t. I try not to dwell on it too much. I’m trying to stay positive. These technological monstrosities are my friends now.

Beast Island Log: Day 2, Entry 1

Today, I will try to determine what’s food and what’s not food. I’ve been studying the eating patterns of the creatures that most resemble mammals, if you can call a four-eyed winged primate-looking-thing a mammal. They mainly thrive off of a spiky fruit that grows inside the trees. There’s another creature with razor-sharp claws that digs the fruit out of the trunk to grab them. It only grabs what it needs to and the rest fall to the ground for other creatures to eat. Fascinating.

Beast Island Log: Day 2, Entry 2

I extracted the juice from the fruit. If it was poisonous, I figured my forest-dwelling friends wouldn’t have survived this long. Boy, was it tough to peel! I’m going to name it scorpion fruit because of the stinger-shaped spikes on its skin. Earlier I put a drop on my wrist to test for an allergic reaction. There was no reaction, so then I put a drop on my tongue and waited for one hour. So far I feel fine. It didn’t taste bitter either. I’m going to try two drops next time, then three. 

Beast Island Log: Day 2, Entry 3

My three-drop feast of scorpion fruit has made my stomach just as ravenous as some of these creatures. I’m going to take a small bite now and wait thirty minutes. I drank enough water (thank the First Ones there’s fresh water here!) to purge if I need to. There may be food yet!

Beast Island Log: Day 2, Entry 4

I’m on my second scorpion fruit and nothing has tasted better.

Beast Island Log: Day 3, Entry 1

I managed to scrape some parts together to make a small radio. Problem is, I can’t find the right wires to make my antenna. The bigger problem is these corrupted files. To fix them, I’ll need to charge these machines and most of them are hanging by a thread. Still, they’ve managed to stay alive this long, poor things.

Beast Island Log: Day 3, Entry 2

I discovered another edible root. It’s very tough and stringy, but I found boiling it made it more edible and savory in general. I miss dessert, especially tiny ones.

Beast Island Log: Day 3, Entry 3

Day three on Beast Island, and I’m in a strange state of peace. Of course I miss my friends and my lab. But here? Here I have the opportunity to learn an entirely new skillset. A wilderness explorer, imagine that! Hordak always said that my optimism was somewhat unnatural, but I never knew what he meant until now. I probably have Scorpia to thank for that. She’s the most positive person I know. If only she could see me now. Friends, if you’re listening, I’m going to be okay! Everything will be okay.

Beast Island Log: Day 4, Entry 1

I ventured deeper into the forest to find food that isn’t berries and roots. It’s hard to describe, but I felt a slight vibration coming from the ground. If I close my eyes and listen, it’s almost as if there’s a humming sound all around. Perhaps the area is magnetized? I want to go further in, but I don’t think my forest friends would like that.

Beast Island Log: Day 4, Entry 2

As I suspected, some of these creatures are not very friendly! I came across a small nest near the foot of a tree. I wonder if it fell from the branches. It had small blue eggs with red speckles, similar to bird eggs. I was tempted to hold one, just to get a sense of its weight, until I saw what I presume was its mother. As expected, she saw me as a threat and flew towards me, squawking like mad. I managed to run fast enough into the bushes where she couldn’t reach me. I realized that my body does not handle cardio well. Exercise is not my forte, but I’ll have to add that to my list of survival skills. I’m famished now, so until next time!

Beast Island Log: Day 5, Entry 1

I made a new friend today! As in, actually made one. Her name is Tiny Emily. She’s a cute little thing, the size of my fist. She rolls around while I’m sleeping and alarms if she senses any creatures that come close. These woods can get scary at night, so now I have a protector. 

Beast Island Log: Day 6, Entry 1

Today Tiny Emily and I explored one of the marshes just outside the giant scorpion fruit tree. There was some sort of hut, mostly branches and leaves, that something had made. I need to do more exploring.

Day 6, Entry 2

There is definitely a buzzing sound coming from the island’s center. I know because Tiny Emily and I have been marking the perimeter and listening very closely. I wish I had equipment that could help detect the sound wave patterns. I could make one; I just need the right parts and the power. Well, that’s why I have ears! Sometimes you don’t need fancy tech. Sometimes.

Beast Island Log: Day 6, Entry 3

Today was our first rainy day. The first thing we did was take cover under the husk of an old battle tank. I’ve learned to treat every element as potentially dangerous. We determined that the rainwater is safe, so we’re safe. The battle tank was also a fortuitous find. It helps block out water and wind and offers protection from predators.

Day 6, yes 6. Entry 3? 4?

Remember when I said the battle tank was safe? Well, I’m afraid I spoke too soon. The metal is very rusty and corroded and a piece of it fell when the storm outside picked up. We’ll have to seek shelter elsewhere since these machines aren’t structurally sound. Perhaps the hut we found? It looked sturdy enough. I’m very nervous to leave the junkyard in favor of the forest. I find that I don’t do well with bugs and mud. Oh well! There’s always danger in exploration.

Beast Island Log: Day 7

We had a close call today. Tiny Emily rolled down a hill and nearly fell into the river! Though we did make another important discovery. We found a spear near the water. The dexterity and attention to detail needed to craft such a tool...Could we still be dealing with some sort of animal? If something could make this weapon, I’m not sure I want to find out.

Day 7, Entry 2

We found another spear. The pointy end was charred, like it was used to cook food. We found a nest of grub nearby, so perhaps that’s why. We’re not talking about an animal anymore, not even close. 

Day 8

I’m not alone on this island.

Beast Island Log: Day 8. 9? Entry 1

We circled the areas where we found the hut and the spears and found an abandoned campfire. No traces of footprints. I would normally never say this, being a practical scientist, but it’s as if we’re tracking a ghost.

Day 10

It has been ten days on Beast Island. I know I just got here, but something inside me is itching to explore the forest, as if it has all the answers I need. I won’t lie. I am frightened. Tiny Emily has been chirping away these past two nights. This might actually be the first night where I feel far away from home. 

Beast Island Log: Day 30, I think. Entry 1

I’m afraid I’ve been a very bad scientist. This is the longest break I’ve taken from creating my logs, probably ever! Whoever made the hut and the spear is nowhere to be found. Me and Tiny Emily have searched everywhere. I don’t know why I’m so obsessed with finding them. Maybe it’s someone like me who was sent here. Maybe they came here on their own. To explore. Or to escape. I’ve thought of every possible scenario as to why this person would want to be on this island and I cannot find a single reasonable answer. I don’t know if people were truly made to be alone. Maybe that’s the problem. Maybe that’s my problem...

I’m going to keep exploring. I’m going to find whatever is out there and share with them what I know about how to survive on this island. And maybe, together, things will be okay. It’s dinnertime. Signing off.

[WARNING: LOW BATTERY!!]

[fantroll-purgatory]

@theshieldswordandcrown

I’d like it if you guys could look over my tea man for me! (Art by my friend lythaeriahomestucks. I haven’t made him a sprite yet.

Oofadoofa it’s been a while. Hi I hope your roleplay group is fun!

World: Alternia, but the draft is a lot further off than in canon, because none of my group is interested in roleplaying interstellar space battles or politics, especially considering the amount of setup that would have to go into making deep space believable. Though I think Friendsim’s stated they’re dragged off planet at 9 sweeps, so he’d still have a little time before getting dragged underground anyway.

Name: Oolong Matcha. Yes, they’re both types of tea. It started off as a quick joke, but I’ve grown to love it. Not only is matcha green, like his blood, but he’s a gardener, and really enjoys tea.

Mmmmm I mean joke trolls are famously canon in Homestuck. See: SWIFER EGGMOP or the salt and pepper shaker troll BUTTT mmmm. I feel like naming a character based at least partially on Japanese monks Oolong would deserve some side-eye. But I like the matcha bit! So let’s see…I like him being a gardener since monastic gardens were very much A Thing, and one of the famous still-extant ones is at Rievaulx abbey, so maybe we give him RIVULX, which sounds sufficiently trollish and is obvious enough for someone to get the reference.

Age: 9.69 Sweeps, or 21 Earth years.

Theme/Story: He’s partially themed after monks, specifically Irish and Japanese, which was originally an excuse for his bald head, but ended up influencing his clothing, calm demeanor, and lusus. I was also, oddly, thinking of 4chan – not maniacs like /pol/, but just average people who don’t get out enough, like to chatter about anime or cooking, and generally act like a bit of a dipshit. Fatherhood is definitely a theme with him as well – he’s already a father figure to two other trolls.

Hmmm. I like the broad concept, but I think we can tighten up a little on the “monk” theme by expanding it. Review Goals: General overview, classpecting advice, filling in missing details like fetch modus or lunar sway, etc.

Strife Specibus: He greatly prefers to snipe threats before they reach him, but if he’s forced into melee, he’ll grab a pipe and go berserker nuts. He takes satisfaction in neutralizing threats, especially if he’s protecting someone or something. He’s not averse to talking things out, but dislikes putting others on the line.

Hmm. None of that is a strife specibus, though I suppose you’re going for riflekind and pipekind. Generally void players use fistkind since it’s the absence of a weapon, but if you want to give him another option besides hand-to-hand melee may I suggest poisonkind? He could use something from his garden, like monkshood :3c. Or if you want to give him a melee weapon he could use the sansetsukon per the 36th Chamber of Shaolin, which would double as a symbol reminder since he could arrange the segments in a backwards s. Fetch Modus: ;;3;; I have absolutely no idea.

What about a clue modus where the items are obscured but contain details describing them? With the caveat that some of them will have similar color/taste/textures listed. I think this might be fun because there are actually *two* famous detectives with the last name Monk, Adrian Monk and William Monk.

Blood Color: Jade.

That works great, especially with Friendsim’s reveal that many jades are indeed monastic/cloistered.

Lunar Sway: Not sure.

Given that he’s a monk and you have painted him as someone unlikely to cause conflict or rebel against the system, I think he’d be a Prospit dreamer.

Title: Knight of Void, someone who exploits what little secrecy and irrelevance he has for all it’s worth. He was first conceived as a Bard, to fit into a fansession, but I eventually decided it didn’t fit what the character had developed to be. 

Symbol and Meaning: I made it up, and it doesn’t have a name. It’s an infinity symbol, broken in the center - like this, but flipped 90 degrees clockwise. I guess it could tie into his aspect by…destroying infinity, I guess, but I really haven’t put that much thought into it.

If we’re going by the EZ, he would be Virittanius, the Deliberate. Which I think fits him quite well! It also looks like a further corruption of the sign you gave him, so I may toy with that a little in the redesign. Handle: I feel like I might have given him a serious handle at one point, but if I did, I forgot it, so for now, it’s oolongMatcha. Just his name. Considering his classpect and desire for secrecy, this makes about as much sense as a rain barrel made out of crackers, but I’m not sure what to give him.

Since his new initials are RM, maybe revenantMyiopsitta. Revenant, of course, to hint at the fact that he’s part of the blood caste most commonly associated with rebirth after death, and Myiopsitta being the genus for two types of parakeet: the cliff parakeet and the monk parakeet. So we have his true identity as well as the unusual nature of his hive, both concealed in plain sight. Quirk: he types in all lower case and likes putting his horns in his emoticons! ’:)  Maybe doing it like (:; would make more sense, as it’s his right (our left) horn that’s busted.

I like it! Depending on his redesign you may also want him to uƨe backwardƨ ƨ’ƨ to mimic hiƨ ƨymbol.

Special Abilities: Supreme Dadliness. Jokes aside, he’s a crack shot, even with his impeded vision, and has been successfully flying under the radar his whole life.

If you still want him to be a crack shot even with the changes I suggested above, maybe he uses blowdarts to poison his enemies from afar?

Lusus: His father is a MASSIVE white snake; I was thinking some kind of constrictor. Personality-wise, he’s close to a prototypical 50s dad. He’s a safe haven for his son and those his baby cares about, and is exceedingly patient, to the point of letting a small child fingerpaint on him. He’s also willing to carry Oolong in emergencies, though I’m not really certain that would work in real life, movement-wise.

I feel like the snake can be a little overplayed as a lusus. If we want to give him something similar to a mother grub as a jadeblood, why not a massive butterfly based on the monk/dusky friar? It also gives you the mechanics for how his dadderfly would carry him around in emergencies.

Interests: He used to spend a lot of time alone on the internet - I originally conceptualized him as a very lonely NEET, to the point he had to find his wallet to remember his own name - but has become more adventurous and friendly, spending more time with his girlfriend and friends (and he has friends now!) He’s very proud of his garden and fruit trees, some of which are rare, difficult to grow properly, and/or dangerous (offering more security).

Huh! You don’t explain *how* he goes from isolated to friendly, but I’d hope that gardening is a way for him to reach out to others since it’s a hobby you can commit to on your own but bond with other hobbyists.

Hive: He lives out in the woods by himself, though not so far from other trolls that he can’t take the day to go shopping or see his mate. His hive is surrounded by his garden on all sides, and has a very visible path down the center (making it easy for him to see anyone approaching, and shoot if they’re a threat). Trees surround it, and dangerous plants are strategically placed to make going through his garden unpleasant at best (it also makes weeding a pain, but he thinks it’s worth it). His hive is especially unusual in that the porch is raised up to the second floor with large poles, and you have to use a ladder to get up to it (unless you’re snakedad, in which case you go up the poles). He has a remote so he can let it down from the ground, as well as access to it on the platform, so he can let people up himself. I don’t think the ground level has a door. I’d be happy to submit pictures, if you want.

Feel free to show us pictures, but I like the concept a lot!

Appearance: Tall and rail-thin, excepting his oddly curvy hips. (I figured due to jades being majority female, developing jade males might be exposed to more than the usual amount of estrogen and androgens. Also I’m way more used to drawing women than men and his initial outline was a gal for like ten minutes.) He shaves his head bald. (This is because A) I didn’t want to bother trying to figure out men’s hair - I almost never draw dudes - and B) he’s partially themed after monks, who often shave their heads. I don’t remember why he says he does it.)

…man, I’m gonna take issue with the way you phrased this description. There’s a lot of gender essentialism going on in your explanation there, and given that a number of us mods are trans and nonbinary I feel obligated to point out a few things:

1) Trolls are bugs. They’re not even mammals. They aren’t exposed to androgen or estrogen or any hormone to give them a certain body shape. It is quite heavily implied that when the mother grub gives birth it is to a bunch of larvae.

2) I know that Homestuck lore has given us largely jade girls and one jade trans guy but that’s no reason to assume that jade men are broadly more “feminine” by default in *any* dimension

3) Even if trolls *did* work like humans, it rubs me the wrong way to see someone talking about a man’s “oddly” curvy hips like I’ve got guy friends both trans and cis with wide hips and the only reason to remark on it at all is because We Live In A Society that forcibly genders people in relation to physical characteristics.

…So I am otherwise taking your description at face value. ______ Matcha is tall, rail thin, with curvy hips and a bald head. I will probably add some little fangs, per the Alternian fashion guide.

He wears leggings (unless it’s very hot) and long tunics or robes, usually tan, with his symbol emblazoned on the breast. He goes barefoot if he can. His right (our left) horn is broken, due to an accident in his youth (I think he fell onto something?), amusingly improving his vision, since his unbroken left horn points in front of his left eye, obscuring it somewhat.  His face could almost be described as delicate, and his default expression is calm.

I don’t knooooow that tan is a color trolls wear all that often in Alternia, so I will see how I can rework that in the redesign. I get him being barefoot, but I may give it a shot spriting him monk shoes for if he wants to go on an outing. :3c For his broken horn…hm. When we see trolls with physical damage, it is almost always something more significant than just “childhood accident” (see: every troll in Homestuck except Equius who somehow had like 3 simultaneous accidents?). I have an idea for his horns that I will get to in the redesign, and I will probably add a hook to his front horn, both because it’s a jadeblood trait and because it seems suitably horrifying to constantly have a sharp implement millimeters from your eye.

Personality: Oolong is a nice, fatherly young man, well regarded by most he meets. He really really likes tea. He has a beautiful, dangerous mafiosa matesprite in a rustblood named Andora Ingenu, and they adore each other. He’s also taken on the substitute dad role for an adorable young fuschia who lives in the swamp near his forest, Lillie Waters, teaching her how to cook (and keep her tools clean) and rescuing her from other fuschias. He’s very protective of his and his loved ones’ privacy and safety, and spends a LOT of his time in the massive gardens around his hive, of which he’s deservedly proud. He is very good at being sneaky, and sometimes takes the time to run around seeing what he can get away with, especially in the realm of snatching seeds up for his garden. He sells whatever plants he can grow for money, especially fruits and vegetables, but he doesn’t really enjoy sales. He doesn’t put a lot of stock in blood superiority, but doesn’t make a big deal out of it. He’s oddly well adjusted for someone who spent most of his life alone.

I like this description! Also looking at his close compatriots, it looks like I can swap the tan in his design for rust or fuchsia. We already see jadebloods wearing a fair amount in the red/burgundy/purple spectrum, so it should fit right in with the others.

Land: I don’t remember if I’ve come up with one. If I did, I feel like it may have heavily wooded areas, dark and tangled and difficult to navigate.

Hmmm. What about Land of Rough and Reflection (LORAR)? Covered in rough terrain, with pools to contemplate oneself. Unbeknownst to your troll, there are switches at the bottom of each lake (deeper than he could ever hope to dive and hold his breath) that must be flipped to drain the lakes and free the consorts from the underwater caves in which they’ve been trapped for generations. His land would initially seem completely empty and without guidance, and it neatly parallels his own situation before he began to socialize.

I hope you like him! :) I’d love to see what you guys think of him.

He’s certainly an interesting troll, and I hope I’ve helped by way of sharpening up on his theme! Let’s move on to the redesign.

Top to bottom as usual!

Hair - I gave him some stubble courtesy of fan-troll (I have never managed a post without plugging fan-troll/tajazzled’s sprite sheet and I’m not gonna stop now)

Horns - I wanted to make his other horn sort of…curve away from his head so it looks like his symbol from above?

Eyes and brows - they didn’t change but big ups to fan-troll for giving me bases to modify!

Mouth - this is a modification of Sollux’s mouth but I gave him lil fangs and a little lower lip definition

Robes - I just modified some of Kanaya’s robes, appropriately enough! I decided to go for a red/pink shade that was between rust and fuchsia so he could fit in while subtly broadcasting his allegiance

Shoes - they’re John’s but with buckles! :B monk shoes

Aaaand that’s about it for my critique! I hope this helped!

-TR

[writersrealmbts]

Sunlight off the Water

Description:   When you’re assigned to participate in some sort of vacation show that a foreign music group was doing, you meet some strange guys. Jackson is this vibrant being, strange and excited about new things and constantly paying attention to you. How he managed to make a camping trip in one of the least dangerous States in the United States into an adventure you’ve never experienced before you may never know.

Warnings: N/A

Posted: 8/18/2018

Tags: Jackson Wang, JacksonXReader

Fluff? Angst? Both?:  12,438 words

A/N: I’m sorrrrrryyyyyy. This is my first time writing for a different group and I’m sorry if I didn’t do them justice. Also, it’s based in Michigan because I know Michigan better than any of the other states, second best being a tie between Florida, and Ohio, followed by Tennessee and Texas. Also, there’s only one poisonous snake. You’re far more likely to get killed by a moose. I love Jackson, so I hope you guys like this. Apologies Mobile Users…I did use a Keep Reading thing but it doesn’t work on mobile!

You flinched back in surprise at the antics of the man in front of you, surprised and trying to hide the smile and laughter from your coworker who was definitely not amused. But he noticed and sneered. “You think this is funny, y/n?” You debated whether to come clean or not, noticing that the man had stopped, a wary look on his face. “Does it matter if I do or don’t? It hardly seems relevant to the outcome of the situation.” You tried to ease around the question, turning to walk away since there was nothing more to be done. Your coworker caught your wrist in a grip that was way too tight. “Hey!”

“Don’t walk away from me, y/n. You haven’t finished your job.” His grip seemed to tighten with each word. “You’re hurting me!” You glared at him, ready to kick him you-know-where. “Let go of her,” the man said in a voice you would classify as dangerous from the look on his face. “Before I call the police.” Your coworker sneered. “Oh so you can be serious! How interesting! What do you expect the police to do?” The man stepped between you and your coworker, his own hand gripping your coworkers wrist. “Let go of her.” You were a little surprised when your coworker let out a pained sound and dropped your wrist. You snatched it to yourself, cradling it in your other hand as you backed away from the two men. “Jackson,” another man approached from the elevators with a group. Jackson glanced at them for a second, then continued staring down your coworker, having let go the moment you were free. You stepped forward, gently touching Jackson’s shoulder. “He’ll leave now.” He slowly nodded, backing up but not tearing his gaze away from the red-faced coworker. The guys that were looking for him came over and seemed to understand what was going on, casually forming a protective circle around you. Your coworker huffed. “This isn’t over, y/n!” You tensed to prevent shivering at the chill that slid down your spine. Could this day get any weirder? It was odd enough that you were going to be doing some strange reality show with this guy, Jackson, and some other guys (probably the ones surrounding you). But to also have today be the day your coworker snaps? “You’re y/n, right?” Jackson asked, facing you. “Are you okay?” You blinked in surprise, then nodded. “I’ll talk to my boss about him.” “I’m Jackson.” You smiled awkwardly. “Nice to meet you. I understand that I’m taking you and a few others camping for some sort of show?” “It’s going to be me, Mark, and Jinyoung,” he replied, oddly calm and still compared to before. The boys seemed a little put off by it too. You nodded. “Right. Um. I look forward to working with you.” You bowed slightly, knowing it was a custom, before excusing yourself. “Where are you going?” He asked, falling in step with you. “I have to get my bag from my room and check out of the hotel.” You were a little bewildered by the fact that he kept up with you. He nodded and kept walking with you, stopping and standing like a bodyguard at the door while you went inside. You shook your head a bit, gathering the last of your things and making sure nothing was left behind before lugging your duffel bag and backpack out into the hall. He wordlessly took the duffel from you and held his hand out for the backpack. “Um, I’ve got it. Thank you, though.” He nodded and grabbed your hand leading the way back down to the lobby while you were still in a bit of shock. “So, do you go camping often, y/n?” “Um, yeah. I’ve spent half of my life out there. I mean, we’re using cabins which is a bit different for me. But it’ll be…different.” “You’re not afraid we’ll run into bears?” “Um, well, I didn’t say that. There’s always a possibility of bears, but raccoons, possums, and deer are far more likely.” “Raccoons and possums?” He repeated, looking concerned. “Scavengers, small mammals, same size or bigger than cats. Generally more scared of you than you are of them. Don’t worry. If we don’t leave food out we shouldn’t have any issues.” You shrugged, not really worried about running across any creatures. You were worried about the three men you would be spending the next two weeks with and the camera that would be filming you. He fell silent again as the elevator doors closed. You watched the numbers slowly go down. “Do you cook?” “Yes I do. That was actually one of the requirements specified when I applied for the project.” He nodded. Then turned back to you. “You have nice skin.” “Th-thank you?” Nice skin? What was that supposed to mean? Sure, you were having a pretty good day as far as acne and such went, a pretty good week actually, but nice skin? Wasn’t exactly the kind of compliment that you normally got. So why did it make you so happy? “So, you are not igot7?” “Uh, I’m not sure what that is.” “Oh, my group is Got7 so our friends are IGot7s.” “You mean your fans?” “They’re more like our friends.” “Okay, So you hang out with them and eat meals together, and talk about important things? Support each other?” “Yes…” “Really?” You gave him a disbelieving look. The doors opened before he could respond and your boss saw you. “Ah! Y/n! They told me that they’d met you! Are you all set?” “I just have to check out.” “Good, good, now,” he guided you away from Jackson and toward the desk. “You take good care of them, don’t make them uncomfortable. These are valuable customers. And don’t worry too much about having to share a cabin with them—“ “With them?!” You hissed, but then you were at the desk and your boss had scurried off like the rat that he was to the boys again. You couldn’t believe this. Not only would you be camping alone with three—technically more with the cameraman—men, but you also had to share the cabins with them? You stalked back over to them, knowing you had no choice. The three that were going with you were saying goodbye to the other members, with Jackson being very…dramatic. Why did you find that so cute? Oh God, did you just…giggle? Thankfully Jackson was being loud enough that no one seemed to hear. Maybe it wouldn’t be too bad being around them. Awkward beyond belief, oh yes. But they seemed nice enough, maybe a little weird. Definitely handsome though, all of them, but there was just something a little…extra about Jackson that made him stand out. “Wait! Are there lots of snakes?” Jackson suddenly asked. “Um, there are some. But there’s only one poisonous snake here and it’s really rare. Your company chose Michigan because there aren’t as many threats. Worst bites you’ll probably get will be from mosquitoes. We don’t get massive earthquakes, we get tornadoes sporadically and they never get as bad as they do in the tornado belt. Our bugs aren’t huge. And you can swim without the fear of sharks, stingrays, jellyfish, alligators, or crocodiles. So, relatively safe.” Mark looked pretty amused and Jackson thoughtful while the others looked lost. “If it’s so great, why don’t more people live there?” One of the other boys asked. “Winter,” you answered simply. “We get cold in winter.” Mark nodded. “That’s a good reason not to live there.” You shrugged. “Some people are just sissies.” Jackson started howling with laughter. Mark looked a little surprised but he was smiling and laughing slightly too. The one who had asked about the population was translating for the others and they started laughing as well. One of them stepped forward and gave you a high-five. You watched Jackson come down from his laughter and shrugged at Mark. “So, where are you from?” “L.A.” “I’m sorry,” you apologized. He smirked a bit. “I’m sure you are. Not everyone is as lucky as me though.” Jackson was almost bouncing, he seemed exciting. “But what are we actually doing? Like, what can we do?” “Um, we can do a lot. We’re going kayaking, I’m taking you to sleeping bear dunes, if weather permits we’re going to try windsurfing…” You tried to remember the rest of the loose schedule that you had outlined for their agency. “Hiking, Iargo Springs, Pictured Rocks, Mackinac Island—which isn’t as exciting but it’s an experience I’m told is essential. Then you guys will fly out of Houghton down to Chicago and meet back up with your group.” “What will you do after we leave?” Jackson asked, looking concerned. “Um, go home?” “Where do you live?” “Um, small town. About an hour from here. Nothing special. We should get going, we still have to drive to the first stop and then to the campground and get groceries for dinner.” You deflected, thinking it wasn’t a good idea to get into that. The boys quickly bid farewell to the rest of their group farewell in Korean. You started walking toward the SUV with your suitcase and backpack. You were glad you only had to look after three of them. Seven would have been nearly impossible. “Are you driving?” Jackson asked, seeming surprised. “Um, yes. How else would we get there?” Their manager was waiting by the vehicle and talked to them, handing them each a camera and you a camera as well. “He asks that you get some footage of all three of us together,” Jackson translated. You nodded, having already agreed to do that. “The car cameras are already in place and I have the house cameras. One of the camera crew will meet us at each cabin we stay at, correct?” Jackson translated with Mark, then Mark nodded. “Yeah, But they cant be there all the time like you’re going to be. Also, one of them is meeting us in the…Christmas town?” Jackson nodded, confirming the translation. You nodded, understanding. “Frankenmuth. Right.” The man bowed slightly and retreated. “Can we listen to your music?” Jackson asked. “Um, wouldn’t you rather listen to your own?” You asked, worrying about sharing your music with strangers. It was always really awkward because unless people were close to you they usually didn’t dare skip songs that they didn’t like and you had some strange songs on your preferred playlist. “No,” he answered. You gestures to the other two. “I’m sure they have an opinion on the matter.” Mark was already putting in his own earbuds, but froze. “Uh…I don’t really care. I’m probably going to listen to my own music.” Jinyoung just looked a little lost. Jackson said something to him in Korean and you sighed silently wishing you hadn’t wasted so much time on French when your job had you working with people (tourists) who spoke Chinese, Japanese, and now Korean. Jinyoung had a pretty blank look as he replied. “They don’t care,” Jackson said, turning back to you. “Fine, but if you guys cringe I’m turning it off.” You spun around and to put the luggage in the trunk. “That bag is pretty heavy, let me get it.” He hurried to help you. It was seriously throwing you off how considerate he was. Either he was being kind or he actually thought you couldn’t handle it. He looked concerned when you gave him a perplexed look. “Did I say something wrong?” “I can handle it, you know,” you said carefully, not wanting to offend him. He nodded. “But you shouldn’t have to do all the work. You’re already going to be doing so much.” You nodded slowly, accepting his reasoning. “Then thank you.” The resulting smile he gave you made your chest tighten and a strange desire rose inside you to try and keep him smiling, prompting you to take some extra time before you got into the vehicle to put a couple of his group’s songs onto The playlist you were going to use. It already had everything from country, to pop, to whatever Fall Out Boy was. There was even a little bit of k-pop on there from songs you had found when you were researching for your job that fit the sort of vibe that the playlist was geared toward—summer and beaches. You just hoped these new songs were good so that you would have to feel bad. Jackson had taken the shotgun seat, the other two in the back seat talking softly and fully prepared to listen to their own music. You flashed them a smile as you checked to make sure they were buckled up, then started the car and turned on the music—quieter than it would be if it was just you. Jackson remedied that, turning it up and bopping along with the song. Mark got a little excited. “Oh! From Shrek!” You nodded, deciding to focus on driving and not on the eclectic nature of your playlist. “So, where are we going first? The Christmas town?” Jackson asked. “Frankenmuth. Um, it’s home to the worlds largest Christmas store, Bronner’s. Frankenmuth is a town of German heritage, specifically Bavaria, and keeps a German theme to its buildings. German is still a common language spoken there and it attracts a lot of tourists because of that and because of how they go all-out for Christmas. It’s going to be crazy with the re-enactment happening this weekend, but it should still be interesting.” “You mean fun? What’s a re-enactment?” “There are these groups that act the way people, specifically soldiers, did back during times of war. Sometimes the Revolutionary war and sometimes the civil war. And they do demonstrations and usually sell things as well. But I think we’re just exploring Bronners, then the the stores on Main Street after we get lunch.” You were talking a lot, trying to calm your nerves. “You act out your wars?” “No, well, yes, but not really. It’s an educational experience, I guess. Help people appreciate what we have and how we got it.” “I didn’t know there were events like that, I knew people acted them out from some shows but I didn’t think there were actually events,” Mark said, gesturing for Jackson to turn the music down a bit. “Yeah, they’re really dedicated. They set up camps and cook over fires, there are shops with old-time foods and beverages, clothes, and other things. There’s usually at least one blacksmith present, and at least one trader with furs and stuff. And people just walk around and ask questions and buy things and learn.” “And we aren’t going?” Jinyoung asked hesitantly. You shrugged and shook your head. “Too crowded. Your managers didn’t want to risk you guys being recognized and having to maneuver the camera.” “You’d take us in, though?” Jackson asked, looking like trouble. You hesitated. “I don’t know.” “Please? I want to see it. You guys want to see it, right? We don’t have to stay for long,” he pleaded. “I’ve never heard of them before. Can’t we at least see? Maybe get food?” You pursed your lips, considering it. “I do like kettle corn.” Jackson screamed excitedly, causing you to jump a bit. You gripped the steering wheel tightly. “I didn’t say yes!” “This is my song!” You blinked a couple times, listening to Dawn of Us and trying to equate the chill vibes of the song with the hyper man in the seat next to you. “This song?” “Yes! You don’t believe me?” You shrugged. “No, I believe you I’m just…surprised.” You’d found the song by accident and liked it. “It’s one of my favorite songs currently.” From the glances you managed to get at him, he was ecstatic, grinning at you but also jamming to his own song. The three boys fell into Korean, talking to each other about whatever. You tapped out the beat on the steering wheel, trying to soothe your nerves since he screamed and got your adrenaline going. If you didn’t calm down you’d have a serious case of suppressed road rage by the time you reached your destination. “So, have you lived here your whole life?” “Michigan?” He nodded. You nodded, sighing. “I’ve gotten to do a little traveling, but yeah. Born, raised,” You replied, leaving off the ‘stuck’. You didn’t have any specific place you wanted to go, you just felt like you were never going to grow past what you already were. Like you needed to take a step and do something more, but all you had in front of you was darkness and empty space. It was one of the reasons you had jumped at the unusual project of filming a vacation show with these boys. It was quiet, them listening to the new song—which was a country song (Compass by Lady Antebellum)—while you navigated the highway. “This is country music, right?” Mark asked. “Yeah, you can skip it if you don’t like it. I don’t care.” “It’s fine,” He replied, looking out the windshield. “So, how far is the town?” “Another twenty minutes,” You answered, glancing at the clock. “Give or take a couple minutes for traffic.” “Give or take…” Jinyoung said in a quizzical voice. Mark explained in Korean. You sighed, a little frustrated that you were limited in your ability to communicate with them. It was your job to look out for them, make sure they were fed, and show them different things. Take them on adventures that won’t risk their health. “Hey, what’s your favorite spot?” Jackson asked. “Like, in Michigan?” He nodded, smiling at you curiously. He was turned toward you, his attention focused entirely on you and your answer. “There’s a beach on lake Huron, with a clearing underneath a willow tree. My family went camping there when I was young. I would walk the beach for hours, then sit under that tree and draw. It wasn’t summer unless we went to that beach.” You sighed, thinking about the many summers you spent staring at the horizon, searching for inner peace. “Do you still go there?” “I haven’t been there in a couple years. Too busy.” You shrugged, taking the exit. “That’s sad.” You knew he meant it was sad that you weren’t able to get to a place you obviously loved, but it kind of sounded like he was saying it was a sad excuse not to go, or that it was a pathetic sentiment. You kept your mouth shut firmly. “Could we go there?” He asked suddenly. You glanced at him, a little surprised. “It…wouldn’t really fit in the schedule. From here we’re taking a two hour drive to the cabin at Tawas Point. We’ll reach there about…six, eight at the latest.” Six was already factoring in delays that were inevitable, like traffic and these guys getting wildly off-track.” “I thought there wasn’t a rigid schedule. There isn’t, but there’s enough of one that going all the way to Harrisville would be largely out of the way.” “How far out of the way?” Mark asked. “A little over an hour. Tawas is already out of the way, but it was the best option for staying overnight that was relatively close to our next stop.” You had been planning on camping out in a tent while they were in the cabin, but I guess the reservations that your boss made were a little different. You would have to stay in the cabin with the boys. At all of the stops on the trip. “Y/n,” Jackson said. “Yes?” Another question? How many did this guy have? “Jinyoung wants to know if we’re eating before or after going to the Christmas place.” “After. Why? Is he hungry? I have snacks in the cooler in the back seat.” Jackson relayed the information, sounding a little awed. “Wow, you’re really well prepared,” Mark said, sounding amused. “Done this before?” “Only a couple dozen times,” You replied, smiling. “With family and for myself.” “And with boyfriend?” Jinyoung asked. You scrunched your face. “No. I tried once, after we had been together for a few months. We broke up before night even fell.” “What happened?” “I told him we weren’t sharing a tent. Apparently that went against his plans.” You gripped the steering wheel. “Oh?” Jackson said. He sounded curious. You turned onto the road. “We’re here. Welcome to Christmas Wonderland.” ——————— You were seriously glad that they had been okay eating hot-dogs the night before. You all had arrived at the campground at about four, and after hastily dropping luggage, you all had hurried to the beach. The staff staying close to the boys while you enjoyed swimming away from the rowdy boys and relaxing in the water after the stress of the crowds in Frankenmuth. The staff had to leave around nine-thirty, and leaving you with the boys. Alone. Thankfully you had had the foresight to pack games that were easy to understand and explain. Like dice. Six dice, basic math, and a little friendly competition. But around the time you all got ready for bed, it got a little awkward. They automatically gave you the other bedroom, so that you could have some privacy. Jinyoung somehow managed to reign Jackson in and convince him that sleeping was a good idea and not another game. You retreated to your room after planning out what to make for breakfast, and managed to sleep until about five minutes before your alarm went off. You got dressed and sneaked out to the beach for a walk in the early morning sunlight. It was a beautiful morning. You quietly went back into the cabin. The boys were awake. And shirtless. It shouldn’t have mattered. It really shouldn’t have. Shirtless guys were sort of a dime a dozen when you were near a beach. You looked away, feeling embarrassed as they acted both surprised and embarrassed. “We thought you were still asleep,” Jackson said, holding a shirt but not putting it on yet. He sounded surprised. You gestured to the camera. “I went to the beach. Caught the early morning light.” He picked the camera up and watched the clips of the morning. You felt like your face was about to burst into flames. You didn’t expect him to watch what you had filmed and you hadn’t deleted the one video you got while you were walking back through the campground and stopped to pet the dog. “Wow, meotj shineyo,” He said, eyes fixed on the small screen. He was calm right now, still waking up, but when his gaze came up to meet yours, he smiled and looked at you so kindly. So, of course, you quickly looked away, back to the food that didn’t actually need your attention at the moment. You got the eggs ready to scramble, not wanting to go for something fancy when easy was just as good and less likely to get ruined. “Bacon?” Mark asked, coming over and looking. “Hope you like it crisp because…” You quickly pulled the pieces out, clenching your teeth as some of the grease popped and splattered on your hands. You were used to it, honestly. Besides that, you needed to make tomorrow’s breakfast as well since you didn’t fancy trying to cook breakfast on a grill or over a campfire. You were going to make breakfast burritos and wrap them in foil so that in the morning you could just heat them up and go. Which meant that after you finished making their breakfast for this morning, you would have to start on breakfast for tomorrow, and probably send them to walk around or to one of the playgrounds. Jinyoung started doing the dishes for you after they finished eating, though, defying your expectations. “Not that one, I’m going to make tomorrow’s breakfast.” You took the pan back and started preparing to cook eggs, bacon, sausage, onions, peppers, and potatoes for breakfast burritos. “Tomorrow’s?” Jackson questioned you, coming over and drying the dishes for Jinyoung. “But you just finished today’s.” “I wanted to make tomorrow easier. You guys can go to the beach or something while I cook. We have two hours before we need to hit the road.” You got out the packages of tortillas and then looked at them. They were all fixated on the ingredients you had out. “What are you making?” Jinyoung dried his hands and checked the peppers, looking mildly relieved for some reason. “Breakfast burritos. I know it’s nothing fancy but…” You trailed off, worried that you had wildly miscalculated when it came to feeding them. “Will they be spicy?” Jackson asked. “I can leave the peppers off,” You replied, glad you hadn’t cut into them yet. “You know, if you want I can just cook up the ingredients and you guys can tell me what you want in yours…” “We can help!” Jackson smiled at you. Mark had the camera and had been filming this whole time apparently, but he agreed with the other two boys. After the ingredients were all cooked (aside from the cheese, of course) and in seperate dishes you made your own burritos to show them how to roll them and wrap them in foil. You also did Mark’s burritos since he was filming the making of the burritos. Jinyoung managed to successfully fold his into burrito form and then wrap them in foil. Jackson tore the first attempt, which you ended up wrapping differently for him, but got it on the second try. Then they went down to the bathrooms to clean up and officially get ready for the day while you used up the rest of the ingredients in extra burritos, then put them in the cooler and finish packing up the rest of the supplies. Their staff came and picked up the major luggage and then left to get to the next campground ahead of you all. They would spend tomorrow with you all, since you had told them that rain was in the forecast and you had that cabin for two nights in the first place to allow them to recover from today’s activities. The first of which was the stop at Iargo Springs. Jackson looked down as the stairs continued. “How many steps are there again?” “Three hundred,” You answered, continuing down the wooden stairs. “And if we’re quiet, we might spots some wildlife, particularly birds.” He nodded then took your hand. You had noticed that he would take your hand, and walk between you and other groups of people. He was actively trying to take care of you, and protect you, treating you better than anyone ever had. It made you feel incredibly guilty, because it seemed like you weren’t taking as good of care of them. “What kind of trees are these?” “Hemlocks, mostly, though farther down I think there’s some white cedar and birch,” You answered, having learned about the trees from your many adventures. In all honesty, you had chosen this place because you liked it and because it might burn some excess energy from the boys. You hadn’t known what to expect for the trip. It was beautiful and peaceful and you could pretty much recite the significance of the area that was written out in signs at the Lumbermen’s Monument down the road further. The one crawling with kids and families where all you really saw at the bottom of the steps was a historical replica of a raft with wax food in glass cases explaining the life of lumbermen. Iargo springs, in comparison, had some wildlife and the springs themselves created waterfalls that gave the whole area a sort of tranquility that you sincerely needed after the awkward night and morning in the cabin with the boys. “So, this place…” Jinyoung asked, looking back at you. “Several springs come out of this hillside and feed the lake, which was used largely for transport of timber. It’s really…” You felt stupid for planning this stop. “There isn’t that much to see, but it’s…” “It’s seems really peaceful,” Mark said, giving you a smile. You attempted to smile back, but failed to smile convincingly enough for Jackson. “I want to know everything,” He said, gently pulling alongside him and down the rest of the steps. “Where’s the water?” You stopped him and pointed. “There’s where some of it is coming from right there.” He looked and then looked at you. “It’s coming out of the ground?” “Yeah, there’s a sign explain—” “I want you to tell me.” You stopped yourself from finishing the sentence and slowly nodded. “Groundwater. It flows deep in the soil until it reaches a point where it breaks the ground surface such as on a hill. This water will be…almost completely uncontaminated at the mouth of the spring. At least, what I know of it.” He nodded slowly, processing what you said. “Then what?” “The water flows down the hillside together in a stream or creek or whatever you want to call it, meeting up with other bodies of water. This is a place where you can see many stages of streams because there are a few springs that come out of this hillside and all of them go into the lake.” You pointed to the larger stream. “Why is there a dam?” Mark asked. “I have no clue. I’ve been trying to figure it out for years. Maybe they were trying to create more wildlife habitat or maybe they didn’t want to damage the hillside or anything by trying to tear it apart.” You shrugged. Mark nodded, then he and Jinyoung wandered off down one of the sections of boardwalk. Jackson was studying the water. He was quiet, which was unusual. He seemed to talk almost constantly, seeming unable to abide silence. Part of you was relieved because you often didn’t know how to fill the silence, and because your life had had so much silence lately. The other part of you was bracing for the onslaught of questions that would follow his silence. You took a deep breath, and leaned against the rail. “Sorry you’re stuck with us.” You looked over at him, surprised. “What?” “I’m sure you’d rather be hanging out with friends than taking us around.” “Oh, no, this is probably the most exciting thing I’ve done in months.” He didn’t say anything else, just took your hand again and started walking down a boardwalk toward the lake. “What do you do in your spare time?” “Sleep, watch TV, volunteer at the animal shelter,” You replied, shrugging slightly. Jackson tilted his head. “You…” He seemed to be struggling, mouth opening and then closing with no words coming out. “You’re okay with the trip? I know you weren’t expecting to stay with us. I saw the tent in the trunk.” “It was a surprise. Um, we should both probably be using the cameras.” Although, Jinyoung had been using the main camera. Jackson nodded and took out the camera. He started talking to it in Korean and filming the scenery. You let him film alone, walking back up to the stream, taking off your shoes and dangling your feet in the freezing water. It was so cold it almost hurt, but you knew your feet would go numb soon and match the rest of your body. Jinyoung crouched next to you, startling you for a moment and giving you the camera, then went off down another branch of the boardwalk. You sighed and carefully started filming the area. You did your best to capture the area, and the boys in the area. All three boys were chatting on one of the decks that was out in the lake, goofing off and laughing—mostly because of Jackson. You caught them laughing on camera, doing your best to capture each of them as they were. Jackson noticed you and laughed again, grabbing Mark, and looking embarrassed. You smiled a little and then gestured for them to continue whatever it was that they were doing. They started talking to the camera, every once in a while asking you questions about the history of the place or clarifying different things. They were definitely used to being in front of a camera. You pointed out into the water. “Ducks.” Jackson looked and got excited. “Hi ducks!” You sidestepped carefully so that they wouldn’t catch you on their cameras. Finally, they started heading back to the stairs. You followed, keeping up with them as they talked, not understanding a single word they said. It was strange and lonely, being with people and yet not being a part of the group. Once you were all back in the car, the boys were in the back, still talking about the trip and everything while you drove. You were bummed. You were second guessing everything you had planned for the trip. You hadn’t wanted to do anything too cliche, but maybe you should have. More activities. “Y/n,” Jackson touched your shoulder. You flinched. “Yes?” “You said we were going to go hiking?” You chewed your lip. “Um, possibly.” They had liked the beach. The beach was a good idea. Hiking? It didn’t seem likely that they would enjoy that, especially since this stop had been such a dud. “There isn’t time?” Jinyoung asked. “No, there’s time…” You answered, but you weren’t sure how to explain that you didn’t want to bore them. “Are we hiking today or another day?” Mark asked. Jackson pointed out the window. “Ice cream! Can we get ice cream?” You automatically pulled into the ice cream shop. Things like this were one of the reasons that you had scheduled extra time between stops and extra down time. For ice cream. The boys piled out and you pulled out the money for their food. “So, we normally have to play some sort of game to get money for food,” Jackson told you. “Um…” You looked at the three boys. “Like what?” “Uh…” The other two boys conferred with him, but they seemed to be stumped. “Like…Simon Says?” You asked, scratching at your arm where you got a mosquito bite. “Yeah, like that,” Mark answered, then said something to the other two that seemed explanatory. They nodded and got excited. Mark nodded to you. “Go ahead.” It was probably the weirdest thing you had ever done, playing Simon Says with three full-grown men, in the parking lot of an Ice Cream shop with the few guests there watching. You also had to figure out the criteria for getting money for food because at the moment they were just playing. Jackson was the first one out and he sort of shrieked and ran to the van to hit his head against it. Jinyoung got a pass one of the times because he hadn’t understood what you had said and the other two were okay with it, but then he did something when you didn’t say ‘Simon Says’ and left Mark as the winner. You made your way over to the menu to check out prices, having overheard what each of the boys was really wanting, you finally came up with a plan and handed each of the boys their share according to who won and such, but made sure they each still had enough for what they wanted. Jackson got excited, hugging you and and then growing still as he waited almost impatiently for his turn to order. He looked back at you and pulled you up next to him. “You have to get ice cream too.” “I’m the driver,” You answered, but you couldn’t help but smile. “That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t get ice cream. I’d feel bad if you didn’t get any.” You shook your head. “I’ll get a milkshake then.” You dug into your purse and checked your wallet for cash. A small milkshake it would seem. You must have left your cash in your backpack, which was underneath the boys’ backpacks in the trunk. Jackson kept you close. “Are you having fun?” You nodded, only partially lying. Watching the boys play Simon Says was funny, and the time in Frankenmuth the day before, as well as the time on the beach both last night and this morning had been great. But constantly being an outsider, in charge of their entertainment, feeding and general welfare and safety was…hard. You hadn’t realized how lonely you would still feel, even distracted as you were. Jackson gently pulled you forward again as the line moved. “You are?” “Yes,” You replied, making sure to smile. He looked at you, looked in your eyes, and somehow you knew that he didn’t believe you. That he was worried. He got a little solemn, his gaze darkening. “We really did like that place. We don’t get to go somewhere that peaceful very often. It was beautiful.” “Beautiful, yeah,” You looked away, still smiling. Jackson took your hand. “Where are we going hiking?” “You guys don’t want to go hiking, it’s not exciting enough for you guys. You’ve seen everything,” Your said, then your eyes widened as you realized you were complaining out loud to him. “I’m sorry, ignore me, I’m just rethinking my plan for the trip.” “What? But why?” Jackson asked, squeezing your hand. “The plan looked great.” “It doesn’t take a mind reader to know that you three are city boys. There’s only so much of being one with nature that you can take. I don’t know what I was thinking with all of this. I should have planned more city stops.” He said something in Korean, then put his arm around your shoulder. “We’re doing everything you planned. If you don’t think the boys will like it, then you and I will go. That way if I get hurt, you can go for help and if you get hurt I can carry you.” Mark turned. “We could always cook dinner while you two are gone and make it a sort of competition. Whoever cooks you the best dinner gets the most spending money for the day.” Jinyoung, the only one following the instructions of filming everything since you had put the camera away after filming them playing Simon Says (because it was too good to miss), slipped up next to Mark so that all four of you were on the camera. You turned away, shielding your face. “They’ll blur your face out later,” Mark reassured you as Jackson pulled your hand from your face. “Stop it, you’re beautiful, they should see you.” Jackson finally trapped your hands away from your face and turned you toward the camera. “We’re getting ice cream! Then we’re going to go hiking and it’s going to be great!” You felt your phone vibrate from a text, and checking it let you know that their staff already checked you all into the next cabin, had dropped off their luggage, and were checked into their hotel rooms. “Oh, it’s your turn, Jinyoung,” Mark said, pushing the other boy to the window to order. You got closer to the prices and realized, after checking your wallet for change, that you didn’t actually have enough for even the small milkshake. You had really messed up. Jackson gave you a confused look as you pulled out of line and went back to the van, pretending you had gotten a call. You went into the van after ‘ending your call’ and waited in the driver’s seat, feeling like an idiot. You texted your mom, letting her know that you were alive and that everything was going ‘great’—because if you had used ‘fine’ your mom would be calling you and you weren’t about to deal with that. A little while later, all the boys piled in, Jackson getting in the front seat. He set a chocolate milkshake cup in your cup holder. You looked up, surprised. He was looking at his ice cream as he ate it. “We should get going if we’re going to hike, right?” You glanced back at Jinyoung and Mark, but they were also carefully avoiding looking at you. “Yeah,” You murmured, facing the road and turning on the van. Mark had his headphones on about five minutes into the trip, and Jinyoung was following suit. Jackson was seemingly absorbed in his ice cream, but the minute the boys were listening to their own music he cleared his throat. “You didn’t have enough cash. All three of us had some left after getting our own.” “Thank you,” You murmured. The rest of the hour-long drive was spent talking to him. Nothing major or personal, just talking. You guys talked about dogs, friends, cats, television, food, and books. Once you reached the campground, he woke the boys while you got out and went to unlock the cabin and check out the bedding situation. Three bunk beds, one with a full-size bed on the bottom. All one room. Fire pit and grill outside for cooking. Propane heat if it got cold. “I got your backpack for…” Jackson trailed off as they came in. “One room?” “Yup.” You took a deep breath. “It’s fine. I’ll figure it out.” “She gets the big bed,” Jinyoung said, putting his backpack on one of the top bunks of the twins. “Oh, no, that’s okay…” They were already moving around to make sure it was that way. Mark and Jinyoung checked out the cooler to figure out what they could try and make for dinner in a few hours and you went over the campground maps. “We’re not far from two of the lakes, so you two could go down to them as well while we’re hiking.” Mark nodded, coming over to look at the map. “Where will you two be going?” “Probably the Au Sable trail.” You traced the path, considering your options. Jackson was changing into better shoes for walking, talking with Jinyoung. You grabbed a couple extra granola bars, and water bottles, shoving them into your backpack with the first aid kit. “We’ll drive down to the parking lot here, near the trail head. That way if your staff planned on the museum it won’t be a repeat for you.” Mark nodded. “How long will it take?” You shrugged a little. “Two hours, maybe? It’s hard to say.” He nodded. “We’ll aim for dinner being ready at seven.” “Sounds good. Ready Jackson?” Jackson handed you the camera and case, and grabbed his camera. “Ready.” ————— Jackson’s arm wrapped quickly around your waist and pulled you back, insistent on taking a picture with you. You groaned in mock frustration, giving in to his goofiness. He switched the camera to his other hand cupping your cheek and jaw as he turned it toward the camera. Except he turned your head so that you were facing him, looking at his face, his smile. At first you were surprised, then you sort of lost your train of thought as you just admired the man that was completely off limits. Then you regained your senses and ducked out of his grasp. “Were you smiling?” “I don’t know, you were squishing my face,” You replied jokingly, flashing him a grin. He started protesting, saying that you had to take another, but gave up when he realized you were getting farther ahead of him and he didn’t want to be alone. He caught your hand as he caught up, noticing that you had filmed the whole thing. “Oh, come on…” “It was cute, your fans will like it,” You teased, surprised at how easily the two of you were interacting after talking in the car. He was quiet. “Cute?” You looked over at him, worried he had taken your sentence the wrong way, but he was looking at you, a bit of a smile on his face. Actually, the look on his face just made your cheeks burn with the amount of teasing you expected from him. He kept a firm hold on your hand as you hurried to keep moving. You had to remind yourself that as long as one of the cameras was on there was an audience. You weren’t about to keep flirting (oh God, you didn’t even know you knew how to flirt) with him when someone else would see this. But you wanted to. You wanted to keep teasing him and flirting, and see how far past the limits you could push yourself before remembering that you only had a few days with him. He seemed more natural alone with you. He talked about his parents and the other members, his brother and his music. Maybe it was because he knew they would probably just have the hike on fast-forward or something. “So…you’re thinking of quitting your job?” He switched the topic almost seamlessly, but left you stumbling. “Um…” You huffed slightly to calm yourself. “I don’t know. I’ll probably try and get a different job before I quit this one. Maybe try a different town. It just…it feels like it’s time for a change, but I don’t know what that change is. It’s just something in the air…” He squeezed your hand, which somehow said so much. It made you think of how he had acted like a body guard at the hotel, standing outside your door while you packed up your things, and then took your suitcase as if it was his job. It was like you two were in this little dance of who was taking care of whom, and both of you wanted to win, but also wanted the other to win. “Oh, watch the branch,” He said, hand covering your head and guiding you under it as you tried not to laugh. “Be careful.” “Yes, Jackson,” You responded in a teasingly patronizing voice. He immediately went into a sort of hyena laugh. “Sorry, sorry.” You started laughing, then impulsively kissed his cheek. Then you panicked and ripped your hand away, running down the path. You watched your steps so that you wouldn’t trip and fall, but you were scolding yourself. You couldn’t just kiss his cheek! “Y/n!” You ran around a bend, and down to a huge white pine, ducking behind the trunk to catch your breath and possibly your sanity. Forget quitting, you could get fired for this. “Y/n!” Jackson called again, sounding worried. Finally he reached a point in the path where he could see you. You gave him a shrug and a smile. “Let’s keep moving.” He caught your arm, stopping you. “Hey…” You didn’t look at him. He leaned in close and softly kissed your cheek. “Those guys that you dated were idiots if they lost you.” You looked at him, eyes wide with surprise. You didn’t know what to say. His gaze was intense, serious. “You’re so caring. Loving.” You almost wanted to run away again, but you were glued to the spot. He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. “Maybe you felt a change in the air because you were about to meet me.” He then took your hand and gently pulled you down the trail. The two of you didn’t speak the rest of the hike, but kept glancing at each other with soft smiles and secrets. He would squeeze your hand gently, then pull you closer to him, almost like he felt you start to drift back to reality. Drifting back to the knowledge of the fate of any relationship the two of you could form, only to be drawn back to his side. Every once in a while, he would stop to admire the scenery, then steal a kiss. And with every stolen kiss, you felt this bond between you grow stronger. You didn’t know what would happen if you were torn apart. Jackson sighed when the trail-head came into view. “Can’t we…I just wish…” “We should stop now, before we hurt each other.” He frowned. “I don’t want to stop now. We have time together. We’ll figure out what will happen later. Let’s just…enjoy each other’s presence right now. Can’t we just…” “Don’t you have a contract?” He froze, his gaze shifting away from you. “Yeah…I do…” “So technically, you’ve already broken it just by kissing me. Don’t risk your career on me, Jackson.” “You researched me,” He murmured. “You already checked to see if I could have a girlfriend. You like me. You like me enough to check and see if I could even have a girlfriend. When did you look that up?” “I was in the car for a while pretending I was taking a phone call.” You hugged yourself, pulling your hand free of his. “Besides, it was just to try and knock me back to the ground. I mean, while there’s something romantic in the idea that a guy would give something up for a girl he likes…but I would feel guilty for the rest of my life if anyone ever did that.” “What if…what if we just talked? What if we just got to know each other? If we’re still interested in each other when my contract is renewed…” He stepped in close, gently pulling your arms from around you so he could take both of your hands in his own. “I may not seem like it, but I’m patient. And I come to America for tours. It could be fun to sneak around and see each other.” You shook your head. “You already miss seeing your family. You deserve to find love and happiness at the right time, with the right person. That isn’t me.” He just held onto your hands more tightly. “But…” “Don’t, Jackson. We both know how this ends. We part ways and never come back together because this is one of those things where we’re just thrown together and once we part there is nothing to bring us together again.” “I’ll bring us together again,” He argued, his arm going firmly around your waist. “Don’t you want to at least try and fight for us?” You looked at his face, so serious and determined. You did. You wanted to forget all the things that would prevent you from being together and just enjoy being with the sweetest, most considerate man you had ever met. But after fighting yourself, fighting work to just get through the day… “You do,” He answered, reading your face. He licked his lips, the pressed his forehead to yours. “You’re tired, but you want to fight.” You closed your eyes. “You’re the first man I’ve ever been drawn to so strongly. The first person I’ve ever spent so little time around and yet felt so attached to.” “This feels right,” He finished your thoughts in a low tone, his voice deepening attractively. He gently pressed a kiss to your lips. “But you’re tired. You’ve been fighting since before you met me. Stop fighting, rest, then fight for us.” You instinctively curled into his chest, resting his head on his shoulder. “Okay.” “Really?” You nodded, then peeked up at him. “I’ll fight for us.” He grinned. “So, we can worry about the dating ban later?” You nodded again. He kissed you again. “Good. Because I like you a lot. The guys will help us sneak around, not that we need to since we’re basically doing all the filming ourselves. They already thought that…well…they knew that I liked you. They only backed out of the hike because they knew.” You groaned. “Ugh, the schedule. I have to work on it, refine it. We should—” “Whoa, hey, the schedule looks great to us. We thought it looked good. We especially liked the extra time on the beaches.” He grinned and wrapped his arms around your waist. “Now, why don’t we take that other trail?” “Why do I feel like you don’t want to hike?” You teased. He kissed you again. “I do. I just want to do it with you. I want to hold your hand. I want you to show me your favorite things about the trails. I want to be alone with you while I can.” You smiled at him. “Or we could go back to the cabin to make sure our dinner is edible.” “They can cook!” “How well?” You asked, folding your arms. He looked away blankly. “Yeah, we should go make sure our food is edible.” You kissed his cheek. “We’ll have plenty of time together.” He smiled again and nodded. “I hope we don’t accidentally poison you and ourselves.” “That’s what I hope to prevent. Mostly I just want to make sure that they figured out how to use the grill. Charcoal can be tricky.” He nodded and led you back to the car, arm around you protectively. A perfect gentleman. —————— Sneaking kisses, holding hands, getting hugs, and sharing conversations with Jackson had become your favorite part of the trip. No matter where the two of you went, even with the other two guys and you making sure you did your job, it was like a whole new adventure. Beaches were the best. You all would goof off for hours at a time, and you felt like you hadn’t smiled and laughed so much in ages. The sunlight reflecting off of the water dazzled your eyes, making it seem so much brighter and more beautiful than ever. Which was the same thing that Jackson had done for your life. You had always guarded yourself from defining your life by who you were dating. You didn’t need a boyfriend to have a place in the world. But Jackson definitely brought out the best in you. He knew exactly how to make you smile, or when you just needed a hug, and he listened when you talked about things that you loved. He helped you be happier, just by existing, and even just listening to him talk gave you this sense of peace that you had been missing. There had been times over the trip when you definitely snapped at him, or he got upset with you. There are always those times, with anyone. Like today. You had been worrying about the schedule because if you fell behind today, then you might be late the next day. For their departing flight to Chicago. You were tired, worried, and dreading their departure because you knew you would have to say goodbye to Jackson and you just snapped at him. So he got upset and you two ended up arguing because you were ‘worrying too much’ and he was ‘being inconsiderate and delaying things’. Mark and Jinyoung separated you two for the ‘mission’ of finding souvenirs and eating once you reached Houghton, after arguing for the las half hour of the car ride from Pictured Rocks. You sighed, already feeling guilty. “I’m sorry,” You murmured to Mark, scanning the stores for content. Jinyoung and Jackson were eating and then shopping while the two of you did the opposite. “You’re tired. Arguments happen.” He shrugged, stopping and looking in a window. “But I hope you two work it out. I’ve never seen him so happy and peaceful.” “I don’t think I’ve ever been as happy as I have since I met him. I know it can’t last. You guys are leaving tomorrow,” You said, silently cursing the way your voice sounded. “And I have to make sure you do leave. It’s my job. It’s my job and I hate it. Besides…there’s also the whole contract issue.” Mark opened the door to a store. “Yeah…contract…” You stopped and stared at him. “What was that tone?” He shook his head. “I just forgot about it.” You didn’t quite believe him, but you let it go for now and followed him into the store. “You know, they’re really impressed with you. And this trip was really great. I mean, we ate good food and got to have fun and go to the beach. We learned a lot too. I mean, I’m from California. This is a lot different from what I’m used to, but it was also cool to learn about another state. You cooked for us, and you made sure that even though we had a lot of activities we also had time to just chill and do our own thing. They might consider hiring you.” He gave you a smile. You managed a tired smile in return, then turned to the owner and made sure it was okay to have the camera filming Mark, then nodded your thanks. “Maybe.” The two of you went around the store, then several others, finally finding a souvenir that he was happy with. Then the two of you went to a restaurant. You sat across from him, trying to figure out how to apologize to Jackson. “We’ll try and get you two some time away from the cameras after this,” He said, pretending you weren’t still filming him. There wasn’t enough time left in the day to talk to Jackson much more than to say that you needed to talk to him in the morning and to share a look that showed how sorry you both were. You cried late into the night, and your alarm woke you up far too early in the morning. You felt shaky and tired. You just wanted to lay back down and go to sleep, but no. You had to get up and make sure the boys would have something to eat before they got on the plane. You made a quick trip to the store and got some donuts, muffins, mixed fruit, and croissants. Since you had no way of heating any food up or keeping any food cold, you made the executive decision that they could spare the calories and that fruit was healthy enough. Then you cleaned up all of your stuff and set the food up on the desk in your room, getting out the plates and plastic utensils, and then hiding your luggage in the closet. You went to their room and knocked. Mark opened the door and smiled at you, but it was strained. The staff were already in their room. Before he could even say the good morning his half-asleep brain was still working up to, you flashed a smile. “I have food for you guys. Want me to bring it here?” “Oh, no, it’s—” One of the staff nodded. “Bring it here.” You nodded, still forcing a smile as you went back to your room, packed everything back into the bags and took it to the boys’ room to do  what you had already done, again. You set it up, still forcing the smile. Jinyoung helped you pull things out of the bag and sort them on the table. “Did you sleep, y/n?” “Yes. How did you sleep?” “It was an early morning,” He answered, then put a hand lightly on your shoulder. “We didn’t know it was starting this early.” You just nodded, your heart heavy. Then Jinyoung knocked over the jug of orange juice, all over the food. “Ah! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!” He rushed to grab the paper towels to try and clean it up. You looked at it blankly, stunned at how he had managed to accidentally knock it over and get all of the food, effectively ruining all but the fruit. The staff started making a big fuss. Jackson said something in korean, then repeated it a couple times before grabbing your wrist. “Come on. Let’s go.” You let him pull you out of the room and down the hall, then out to the vehicle. He opened the driver’s side door and basically picked you up and set you on the seat facing him. He kissed you, then rested his head on your shoulder. “I’m so sorry.” “It was my fault. I was tired and stressed and…I…” He looked up at you. “I lied to you.” You froze, choking up and ready to cry at those simple words. He lied? About what? Did he not…love you? He gave a shaky smile. “I don’t have a dating ban anymore. I just…wanted to make sure you really actually liked me. I had to see…you have to understand…I wanted someone who liked me for me.” You stared back at him. He wiped your tears away, looking upset. “I wish I didn’t have to leave you, but…can’t you…can’t we keep going?” He looked like he might start crying as he held a water bottle to your lips. “Drink.” You swallowed some water, then sniffled. “You can date?” “I can date. And I can love you better than anyone else. I should have told you sooner. It was stupid of me to hurt you like that. I’m so sorry for hurting you,” He murmured, closing his eyes and looking at the ground, holding both of your hands. “I’m sorry I snapped at you,” You whispered. “I’m sorry you’re always having to comfort me.” He kissed your forehead. “You’re always taking care of me. You shouldn’t be apologizing to me. I’m the one who lied. I’m the one who hurt you. I’m the one…” His voice cracked. “I’m the one who’s not going with you,” You said, taking the blame for the inevitable separation. “I’m the one who is letting go of us, and pushing you back toward your career.” He shook his head, breath hitching. “I fell in love with you the moment I saw you, you know.” “I’m the one saying goodbye.” “I couldn’t stand how that man treated you. He should be in jail.” You closed your eyes. “I’m the one driving you to the airport, and making sure you leave.” “You knew my song even though you didn’t know me, and you know all this history but you spout it out like you’re embarrassed you know it. You always seem to know when one of us is hungry.” You really had to fight that sob before you said, “I’m the one saying it won’t work out between us.” He was crying. “The way you look in the sunlight…” “I’m the one forcing you to let go of me.” “You’re sunlight off the water,” He said, and it stopped all the words in your throat. “If I look too long, I could go blind from how beautiful you are. You are the happiest place I’ve known in a long time. You’re someone I would have to show to my mom and dad so that they could try and share some of the happiness that you bring me.” You looked over to see Mark and Jinyoung and the staff all watching you two now. “Jackson…” “Please,” He pleaded, looking up into your eyes. There was so much pain and regret. “I know I should have told you. I know I’m asking a lot from you. But please? I’ll work everything out, just…come. I know you can’t come right now, but maybe later? Quit that job that hurts you and come with me and we’ll find you something better, together. The last ten days have been the best days of my life, and I don’t want to stop seeing you. Or we could meet in a couple weeks, when we’re in New York, so you can go and see your family. Just don’t tell me it’s the end. Don’t you dare tell me you don’t love me because I know you do. You wouldn’t be acting like this if you didn’t love me. You wouldn’t be pushing me away if you didn’t truly want what was best for me.” You let your forehead rest on his. “Of course I love you.” “I love you. So don’t tell me this is over.” “There’s so much in the way. Your fans won’t like—” “I don’t care. I’m not going to let anybody get in the way of being with someone that makes me so happy.” “Jackson—” “No. I love you. That’s it. If I could, I would give it all up for you. I would live wherever you wanted. But I can’t. I have a commitment, and…” “They’re your family. I know. I would never dream of taking you away from your job or your friends. I just…I don’t know Jackson. I don’t like not having a plan, or some sort of security…” He kissed you. It was weird since you were both crying and your noses were stuffed and honestly it was just awkward, but it was still nice because it was with him. “I will be your security.” “No. It’s too soon for that—” “Look, we don’t have time for more arguments. You have my phone number. Just tell me where you’ll come visit me when you decide. If you don’t text me or call me, then I’m going to assume you’re in the hospital. Got it?” You looked into his eyes and saw that he was as serious as the day was long. You kissed him again and nodded. “Got it.” He pulled you into a tight embrace. “I’ve got you.” ——————— You had to be out of your mind, and yet your parents—ever the voices of reason even in the craziest of times—were the ones helping you dive further into the insanity. They supported you when you quit your job, helped you move out of your crappy apartment and into their basement, and were now attending the Got7 concert with you. And it was great. You had delved into the world of K-pop to know some of their songs at least, and so that you could understand what it was he did and they were honestly one of your favorite groups. Their concert was amazing so far and even your father—the most closed-minded to music—was getting into the music and bopping along. You watched Jackson performing, loving him even more for it (it was hard not to). He had a sort of charisma on the stage, focused yet spontaneous. Present and yet so far away. Goofy and serious. He performed diligently, doing all the choreography with what appeared as practiced ease. He seemed more confident than ever. “You all having a good time?!” He asked enthusiastically as they all took a break from performing. The place erupted in cheers, and your mother’s was almost louder than some of the teenage girls around the three of you. Jinyoung was staring in your general direction, looking somewhat confused, then he was smiling and waving and you figured you might have just imagined he was looking your way when he was actually reading one of the signs. Your mother whooped in delight at something BamBam said to the crowd and suddenly you had a feeling that you just threw your parents down a bottomless pit. “Honey, any of these boys will be just fine with me!” Your mom yelled over the crowd to you. “I need one of those flashlights!” You handed her yours (the boys had given it to you at the airport for their little vacation show), turning it on for her. She grinned in delight and you were seriously concerned as she showed your father. “Sweetheart, that one there is Jackson, right?” Your father was leaning over to you behind your mother. You following his hand to where he was pointing and nodded. “Yeah. That’s him.” Since you hadn’t been paying attention, you weren’t quite sure what they were doing, but now that you were looking that them again you realized that Jinyoung and Mark were talking to Jackson. Jackson’s face turned to one of astonishment, then he looked in your direction until his gaze fixed on you. He brought the Mic up to his mouth, then let it drop, before bringing it up again. “We had fun recently, doing a split vacation. Jinyoung, Mark, and I were all in the same group and we went to a bunch of beautiful places and met a bunch of amazing people. Like my dawn.” The breath you didn’t know you had been holding left your throat, and you drew in another, holding it and wondering what he was thinking. “Every day was more beautiful than the one before. Except the last day. That was the worst. We didn’t want to leave, but we knew that our lovely igot7 were waiting for us!” He hyped it up, but you could tell he was still fixated on you. The other boys were smiling and laughing a bit. “Can I trust our lovely igot7 with a secret?” Jackson asked, looking around the place. Son of motherless goat…what was he doing? “Alright, I need all cameras off. I need your help.” He walked across the stage. The other boys seemed to know that this was going to happen. “I’m trusting you,” He said sincerely to the crowds. “Mom, we need to leave.” You grabbed her arm. “What?! But—!” “Alright, everyone, are you ready?” “Yes!” Your mom screamed with everyone else. Traitor. “You all will still love me, even if my love is shared with someone special, right?” He asked, looking out over the crowd. “Aw! You love whoever you want!” Your mom gushed. Your father busted a gut, dropping back into his seat since he knew that Jackson was talking about you—a fact that had apparently slipped your mother’s mind. “There’s this woman, I’m going to call her Dawn. Ever since I saw her, I started imagining my life with her. I want you guys to help me get my dawn up here. My sunlight. She’s here tonight, and I need you guys to help me because I can’t let her get away. I can’t let her be taken away.” He dropped his gaze to the stage. “I need you to love her as much as you love me. She’s scared of dating an idol. I’m scared of losing her.” He had the audience wrapped around his finger, and you had to admit that the way he was approaching this did seem to be the right way. That’s when you noticed that Mark was making his way towards you with the security guards. You had to make a run for it. Just, get out of the isle and run. You weren’t an idiot. You knew someone was still filming even though he asked them not to. Even though he said he trusted them. You certainly didn’t trust them. But you did trust him. Your thoughts delayed you from making your escape. Mark held out his hand for you, grinning. Your mom pushed you. “Go! We’ll see you back at the hotel whenever you decide to return.” You blushed at the implication, as if you weren’t already embarrassed enough, but took Mark’s offered hand and followed him and the security team back to the stage. Thank God you’d had the sense to dress well, and do your hair and makeup. Jackson’s smile as you came up on stage soothed any embarrassment you had though. He looked so excited that you were there. Damn you had missed his smile. Before you knew it, you were in his arms, your face hidden in his shoulder as he thanked the crowd for cheering. There. Right there is where you belonged. Not on the stage—there wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hell you belonged there—but beside him. You felt more whole than you had since he had left. You couldn’t get comfortable at home, or anywhere. You hadn’t been satisfied with anything and had felt restless. Thoughts drifting to him all the time and now you were here. Sure, he smelled a little since he had been dancing and it wasn’t exactly cool in there. His arms went around you while the other boys hyped the crowd up for their next song in a couple minutes. “Come to Korea with me.” You just nodded, not wanting to try and talk about the crowd from there. Or leave your hiding place. He took you backstage and kissed you. “I love you. Don’t go anywhere.” You nodded again. He grinned and ran back out. You leaned in an out of the way place and watched him shine on the world. Yeah, you could get used to this. It seemed like forever and only the blink of an eye before the boys were done with the concert and getting ready to go back to the hotel. You stayed in your spot, afraid of getting in the way. Jackson found you there and kissed you again. “Follow me.” You followed him out to a vehicle where the other members were, and greeted you with teasing smiles thrown at Jackson. “What about your parents?” Mark asked. “I’m meeting them back at the hotel.” “Those were your parents? I want to meet them.” You nodded. “Okay. They really loved the concert by the way. Mom is officially a fan and even Dad seemed to be into it.” Jackson grinned and the other boys seemed pleased at least. The rest of the ride was polite conversation. Then Jackson led you up to his room. “Are they expecting you tonight?” “Not exactly…” You murmured, feeling a little guilty. He smiled. “Let me take a shower, okay? Then we can talk.” He handed you one of his shirts. “Make yourself comfortable.” You met his eyes and smiled a little, but you were almost certain you were blushing again. After he was in the shower, you changed into his shirt and crawled into the bed, burying your face in the comforting scent of him on his pillow. A couple minutes later he crawled into the bed as well, arms wrapping around you and lips pressing kisses to your neck. “Comfy?” “I missed you,” You murmured. He seemed to relax. “I missed you too.” “I quit my job.” “Good.” “I love you.” He grinned and kissed you. “I love you too. Maybe it was fate that you had already liked one of my songs.” “Mmm, sing me to sleep again?” You rolled over so the two of you were spooning. He got comfortable and started softly singing some Chinese song. You could hear the happiness in his voice. In Jackson Wang, you had a permanent happy place. “Marry me,” He whispered. “Okay.”

Masterlist.

[recentanimenews]

THE GREAT CRUNCHYROLL NARUTO REWATCH Opens the Gates in Episodes 43-49!

  Welcome back to THE GREAT CRUNCHYROLL NARUTO REWATCH! I'm Nate Ming, and I'll be your host this week as we make our way through all 220 episodes of the original Naruto. Last week, we covered episodes 36-42, and we continue this week with episodes 43-49.

  This week is all about the FIGHTS, as we witness some of the best action in the series yet--and the start of what many consider the best showdown in all of Naruto! The "elimination tournament" portion of the Chunin Exam heats up, and we get to see a whole bunch of characters show what they're really made of--Kiba, Neji and Hinata, Shikamaru, and of course, Rock Lee and Gaara all get a chance to shine.

  But first, a reader question from last week--this one's from twintailedmadness:

  Hey, what happened with the two people impersonating the grass ninja along with Orochimaru? At the beginning of the forest exam part when they run in he says "you know what to do, we only have one target" and they go separate ways. Its not the two with Kabuto, you also see them at their own gate. Is it a plot hole or something that will come up later?

That's a really good question! They actually do vanish and we only see Shiore/Orochimaru-in-disguise--I think that Orochimaru was either controlling their corpses, or he had two underlings impersonating them. Sound off in the comments with your thoughts on the two random Grass Ninja who entered the Forest of Death and never returned!

  And now, this week's Q&A!

  This week we've got three, four… FIVE fights all in a row, and yet we're also getting a whole bunch of great character moments and development. How are you feeling right now with the show's pace?

Kevin: Knowing what’s coming with the third exam, I wish that they had saved some of the more poignant moments for after the prelims. Maybe of the people that completed the second exam, the slowest half need to fight, and then everyone else moves on to the actual third exam, so that the likes of the Hyuga fight and Lee versus Gaara would happen while the plot was actually moving forward?

Paul: No objections here. The show is moving along at a brisk pace, especially considering that it's a shonen action series, and by comparison sometimes a single fight in One Piece or Dragon Ball will last like five or six episodes. Two to three episodes per fight, maximum, is about my attention span these days.

Jared: This set of episodes in particular really felt like it moved quickly. Which isn’t bad, considering all the fights and moments that were packed into these episodes, it’s amazing how well it kept the flow up. Which really is how I’d characterize the pace, in that it does a good job of keeping things moving and the only time it really feels hindered is when it can go into recap mode.

Danni: I watched all of this batch’s episodes in one day without even realizing it until I was done. It was extremely tempting to just go ahead and keep watching. It feels like we’re really moving along right now.

David: The pace hasn’t been consistent--the recaps and long-winded explanations of stuff that should be easy to grok come to mind - but these episodes were all incredibly solid and left me wanting more. It’s very easy to see why this arc is remembered so fondly.

Noelle: I don’t have any complaints. It’s mostly fighting, but it’s compressed enough, especially when compared to a lot of other shonen series of the time.  What we get really isn’t that bad, and is engaging enough that I didn’t feel like it was dragging.

Kara: I think I may be in the minority that actually enjoys when fights cut away to back story. We had a lot of characters introduced all at once, and they seemed genuinely interesting. Especially considering the techniques a lot of them use. I dig the sheer amount of action, but I’m also enjoying finding out more about these people as we go.

Joseph: I’m loving the pacing of these episodes because, with a couple exceptions (especially Gaara vs. Rock Lee), I don’t really think they needed to spend too much more time on anything here. The stakes aren’t that high, but they still make it seem as if each fight is a deathly serious affair.

Carolyn: I’m also in the minority but for a different reason. I actually really like when the fights are sprinkled with backstory, I feel like it makes their fights more relevant and emotional. But I’m really over how many fights are dragged across multiple episodes. It feels like they are stretching them out to fill time.

Peter: What’s. With. The. Constant. Split. Screen. Facial. Reactions. That aside I was pretty pleased with the animation treatment Kiba and Hinata got. The show really set its pace to the moment whether it was comedy, dramatic reveals, character moments, or even just taking an extra second so you can appreciate how f**ked-up Temari’s finisher was.

How does it feel getting to truly see Shikamaru in action, even if it was for only a half an episode?

Kevin: Shikamaru is one of the characters that grew on me over time. Early on, he’s just lazy and doesn’t do much, but as we get to see him fight and plan more, he just gets more awesome. So finally getting to watch him execute a plan in the moment was a great taste of what’s to come.

Paul: While I enjoyed it in the moment, I almost instantly forgot that Shikamaru defeats his opponent by using his understanding of the layout of the battlefield to trick them into banging their own head against a wall. For some reason, the details weren't sticking with me.

Jared: For me, seeing him in action was pretty similar to everyone else we hadn’t really seen fight yet. I was glad to see them all get screen time and actually see what they can do. With Shikamaru we kind of saw what he could do in the forest with his shadow possession, but this fight really showed the extent of that power and how dangerous it can be.

Danni: Shikamaru seems cool, but I don’t understand why people call him a galaxy brain level strategist. He seems no smarter than the other top genin.

David: The best of Shikamaru has yet to come. As of now, he’s interesting, but not much more interesting than the rest of the cast.

Noelle: This fight is more of a Shikamaru 101 than anything. Where he really shines has yet to come, but it’s nice seeing that his intellect and creativity has been highlighted even this early on.

Kara: One thing I’m learning about Naruto is there are very few one-trick ponies, despite what early episodes may lead you to believe. It was cool seeing Shikamaru step up from being the “mendokusai” guy to having some good in-the-moment tactics.

Joseph: I think I mentioned his power as being the type I’d like to have myself. I loved the strategy of using his environment to his advantage, even it if seemed like a totally wild gambit.

Carolyn: Shikamaru! I love him so much. I love that everyone tends to think he’s just a lazy jerk when really he could be the most grounded of them all. Reality/knowledge leads to depression and all that. In my opinion, he’s incredibly observant and clever.

Peter: I have never understood why he doesn’t just hit someone with a damn shuriken when he’s got them trapped. Even with all holsters being coincidentally placed in the same location, he could have another one just for this purpose or pull a needle out of himself. Then even him taking damage was part of his plan.

We're seeing more and more ninja animals show up--Kakashi's ninja dogs, Shino's ninja bugs, Guy's turtle that only showed up once, and now Kiba's dog, Akamaru. What animal companion do you think would be the most useful for a ninja to have?

Kevin: The insects would probably be the single most useful creature a ninja could be in charge of. Reconnaissance that no enemy would think to check for, setting up traps that are practically invisible and a weapon that drains the enemy’s chakra, making them much easier to defeat, all in one. The only problem is that the bugs live in their host, which would make me run away so fast that Lee wouldn’t be able to keep up.

Paul: Definitely a turtle, because while your enemies are busy wondering why on Earth you brought a turtle to a ninja fight, you could sneak up behind them and shank them in the kidneys. Ninja are all about sowing confusion, and the only ninja animal that would be more confusing than a turtle would be an inexplicably out-of-water shark.

Jared: Having a bunch of bugs would probably be very beneficial since you could have just thousands upon thousands of them swarm an opponent. Just having that numbers advantage is going to be beneficial in most circumstances.

Danni: Without contest bugs are the most useful for a ninja to have. Control a few and you have the most stealthy intel team imaginable. Control a swarm and you will never, ever lose.

David: For the sake of variety, I’d argue that rodents like mice and squirrels would be similarly useful to insects. They are everywhere, which is useful for surveillance and such, and they easily carry disease for assassination purposes. Also, you probably wouldn’t have to let them live in your body, so it’s just a win overall.

Noelle: Bugs, all the way. There are so many kinds that each specialize in different things- poisons, paralytic agents, webbing, heightened senses- even reconnaissance from away is very easy for something so small nobody would notice. It’s a lot easier to catch sight of a mammal than a fly. I also am pretty fond of bugs, so it’s not like dealing with them would be a problem.

Kara: Guinea pigs, and not just because me owning four of them kind of obligates me to say that. Those little suckers are faster and stealthier than potatoes on legs have any right to be.

Joseph: I’m down with the dogs, because when you’re not fighting to the death with them by your side you got yourself a ride or die buddy.

Carolyn: Based on what’s in the show and not just any animal we choose? Because, sharks maybe? I dunno. But I guess bugs would make the most sense. Dogs could be useful in a fight but they would need to be exceptionally trained, I would think. Bugs at least give you a shock factor.

Peter: Really can’t argue with chakra eating demon bugs. Such a variety of insects too. Always thought Shino was an underutilized character given how freaky his power is. Little sad they turned him on his head to be an awkward joke character in Boruto. I’ll always have my Ninja Storm ougis I guess.

Neji and Hinata's fight had a lot of raw emotion to go with the really brutal combat. For those of you who are new to the series, how do you think this story's gonna play out?

Paul: I don't honestly know where they're going with the conflict between Hinata and Neji, although I doubt they'll let Neji remain victorious in the long-run. Neji demonstrates the sort of rigid thinking that's a prime candidate for karmic retribution, and pride goeth before the fall. It was also nice to see that Hinata practices Hokuto Shinken.

Jared: Neji’s gonna have to get his comeuppance eventually, although you could probably go about this in a few ways. One could be that eventually Neji finally realizes that Hinata is deserving of his respect and they go that route. Or they have Hinata save him from something and that’s what makes him change his mind. Either way or with whatever they do, I’d be surprised if this beef extended throughout the entirety of the series and they aren’t at least tolerable of each other.

Danni: The conflict within the Hyuga clan is one I can easily see becoming tied in with a civil war were that to ever happen. The lesser clan families will likely attempt to usurp the main family through assassination and align themselves with a greater evil threatening the Hidden Leaf Village, is my guess.

Kara: For me, Neji reads so much like the personification of Hinata’s self-doubt—at least in this fight. That feeling of self-doubt never goes away; we kind of resolve ourselves to it, admit it’ll be there, but learn not to let it overtake us. With all the focus Naruto has on personal growth, I feel like their relationship will mirror this to at least some degree, with Hinata coming to a point where Neji’s thoughts about her don’t even matter. Whether he’ll ever respect her? No idea. I hope so.

Joseph: I think it’s gonna end up with Hinata shocking him with her prowess later on, and bringing out his own lurking self-doubt in a way that mirrors how he messed with her at the start of the fight. I’d like to see more psychological ninja warfare either way.

Carolyn: I’m not new to the series, but I’ll answer with my thoughts on the episode, anyway. I was very happy with Naruto throughout Hinata’s fight. He pays close attention to his friends, which often comes across as being callous or inappropriate, but he knew Hinata wasn’t out of it yet even when everyone else thought she was down for the count. I appreciate that.

Peter: I don’t think this question's for me because I already know, but just wanted to say I forgot how brutal the whole affair was and the anime delivered. Right when the board had their names next to each other you knew Hinata was afraid and their opening combo was basically psychological torture. Bless Kurenai for being a good wingman.

We're here, at my single favorite fight in the series: Rock Lee vs. Gaara. For newcomers, how was the experience? For those of us revisiting Naruto, what was it like coming back?

Kevin: Rock Lee versus Gaara will always be one of the hypest things in all of Naruto, and the hypest part of it comes next week, once Lee starts tapping in to the Eight Inner Gates. It is taking all of my discipline to wait to watch the next episode.

Paul: One of these days, Rock Lee is going to hit a Lotus on somebody that doesn't use Ninjutsu trickery to cushion the blow or replace themselves with a decoy, and that day will be glorious. Until then, I'm just going to have to wait to see how the final episode of the fight plays out next week. I can see why people like this fight, but I still have difficulty taking Sandy Murder Cinnamon Roll (aka Gaara) seriously as an antagonist.

Jared: Maaaaaaaaaaaan, this fight rules. I’d seen the gif of Rock Lee’s weight moment before watching this so knew at some point it was coming, but I’m so glad to finally see the context and know it’s even cooler. The animation in the first episode of this fight was just astonishing with how much it let that fight feel so dynamic and fluid. Rock Lee continues to solidify himself as the coolest character in this show and the best boy.

Danni: This is the only fight I’ve ever heard anything about in Naruto, and I’ve seen the weights dropping already. It was still extremely kickass to see my favorite boy landing shots through Gaara’s impenetrable defense. Rock Lee is the ultimate underdog and I want nothing more than to see him dominate.

David: Ridiculously good. I haven’t watched this fight in years, and it’s really amazing how supremely it holds up. Taijutsu is straight-up the coolest form of fighting in the series, and it’s already being set up to be outclassed overall, and while that’s kind of sad, it ends up making Rock Lee’s underdog status so easy to see and root for that this fight benefits from it.

Noelle: Rock Lee!! Appreciation!!! This fight, and I think a lot of old fans would feel the same, was one of the most spectacularly awesome moments in the series. I haven’t rewatched it since I finished the series, but it’s just as hype as I remembered. Gaara, the boy who has never taken a hit, finally is forced to eat a blow from someone who only uses pure martial arts, and it’s great.

Kara: Everyone’s been talking about how this fight is The Best. I get it, I see it, I believe you now. It’s amazing and hype, but also a little weird because we’ve got two characters who wandered in from other genres going at it—Rock Lee being every sports anime personified, and Gaara genuinely belonging in a horror movie. (Seriously, the sand shell was hitting my creepy doll vibes more than Kankuro’s literal creepy doll.)

Joseph: It’s Frieza eyes vs. Usopp eyes and it rules. I’ve read the source material but I like the anime version of the event even more. When Rock Lee dropped the weights I got chills.

Carolyn: I actually liked the flashbacks more than the fight itself. Seeing baby Rock Lee so dedicated and driven, holding himself to impossible standards, it’s why I love him so much.

Peter: I thought there was still one episode to go until I saw literally ANY animation. Azuma was talking to Choji or something and I was thinking to myself “why does this look so good?” They gave every second of that episode special treatment. Lee dropping the weights is still iconic.

This is less of a Naruto question, and more a general question about action anime. Can you think of 1-2 other instances that were your "Rock Lee dropping the weights" moments from other shows?

Kevin: After giving it some thought, nothing I can remember did the same thing. In Lee versus Gaara, we had no idea that Lee was holding back, but then suddenly he’s on a whole new level and managing to injure a character who was previously untouchable. The closest comparisons I can think of are various moments from Dragon Ball Z. In the Raditz fight, Goku and Piccolo wore weighted gear, and Gohan had his first berserk moment that showed he had further untapped powers, and later on Goku going Super Saiyan for the first time also showed off the hero managing to one-up the villain with powers the audience had never seen, but each of those moments have a part of what made Lee dropping his weights such a memorable scene, not the whole picture.

Paul: There are plenty of direct parallels, such as Sky Star removing her weighted shoulder pads in Air Master, but I think my favorite recent example of someone taking the limiters off (at least in a metaphorical sense) is when Satsuki Kiryuin stabs her mother, Ragyo, in the heart before openly declaring her rebellion in Kill la Kill. That moment has the same transcendent impact, dramatically speaking, because you can kind of see it coming just an instant before it happens, but the reveal is still glorious.

Jared: These maybe aren’t direct comparisons, but for me it’d be something like Joseph vs. Esidisi from JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure: Battle Tendency where we see the fruits of Joseph’s training and cunning pay off. Although, I might also put what Jotaro is able to pull off in the final episode of Stardust Crusaders as one that got me hyped in the same way.

Danni: Dragon Ball has quite a few moments where characters literally take off weighted clothing, but the most "Rock Lee dropping the weights" moment in the show I can think of is when Goku unleashes the Kaioken on Vegeta for the first time. I think a good recent example would be Uraraka vs. Bakugo in My Hero Academia. Everyone completely underestimated her and it looked like she was being ripped to shreds, but then she reveals it was all part of her plan to launch a meteor attack.

Noelle: This is hard, because I don’t think there are any direct comparisons. The fight shows a capable fighter showing their true strength, but also in a way that nobody expected, even the audience. There are many good fights, and many surprises, but none that we can’t see coming, at least on some level. I think the thing that elicited the closest feeling to that was Black Lagoon when Roberta was first introduced, and despite her demure appearance, she started blasting through absolutely everything.

Kara: It’s really kind of the “I am not left-handed” of anime, isn’t it? Except turned up to a ludicrous extreme. Funnily enough, the first one I think of is sort of an inverse—the mid-point of GaoGaiGar, where after a battle to the near-death that leaves our heroes and multiple robots on the point of falling apart, we get a post-credit scene that shows us the villains have been holding back. Definitely not a “punch the air” moment so much as a “drain the glass” moment.

Joseph: I have a really bad memory so no, this is the only one ever.

Carolyn: Not to be repetitive, but I think Uraraka and Bakugo are a pretty good example, as well. I tend to watch darker anime over action anime, so I don’t have a lot to draw from.

Peter: I have to thank Carolyn since I was trying to find a way to shoehorn in that in retrospect you can see a lot of the Hinata/Neji fight in Uraraka/Bakugo. As far as a moment where the series reveals its been underselling a character? Maybe Killua ripping that dudes heart out in the Hunter exam? Or Kenpachi pulling off his eyepatch is probably closest. I love when Ichigo claims there’s a trick and Kenpachi admits the trick was he had a demon eating his power the whole time.

  COUNTERS:

"I'm gonna be Hokage!" count: 19

Bowls of ramen consumed: 2 bowls, 3 cups

Shadow Clones: 123

And that's everything for this week! Remember that you're always welcome to join us for this rewatch, especially if you haven't watched the original Naruto!

Here's our upcoming schedule!

-Next week, on MARCH 8th, the Chunin Exam finals begin in EPISODES 50-56, with CAROLYN BURKE hosting!

-Then, on MARCH 15th, DANNI WILMOTH covers EPISODES 57-63--Naruto settles a grudge as the finals heat up!

-On MARCH 22nd, the Chunin Exam ends as NICOLE MEJIAS covers EPISODES 64-70!

  Have any comments or questions about episodes 43-49? What about our upcoming installment, featuring episodes 50-56?

-----

Nate Ming is the Features Editor for Crunchyroll News and creator of the long-running Fanart Friday column. You can follow him on Twitter at @NateMing. Check out his comic, Shaw City Strikers!

Do you love writing? Do you love anime? If you have an idea for a features story, pitch it to Crunchyroll Features!

By: news+feed@crunchyroll.com

[sweetcatmintea]

Atlas meets Ivan - Drabble

So, I haven’t got any new pictures for you guys, have a short drabble instead. It was a gift for @babydollneko but she said I could upload it here too :)

Moonlight filtered through the thin clouds overhead illuminating speckles drifting through the late-night air. Hard shingles stole the warmth through Atlas’ shirt, prompting shivers. He lazily took note of his leg dangling over the musty gutter pipe. A clean was long over due but the negligence was understandable, it was no simple task to clean the top of a three-story house. Hoisting himself into a sitting position, Atlas stretched his arms in front of him until there was a satisfying crack.

He wasn’t sure how long his nap had lasted but he felt refreshed enough. It was late afternoon when the summer heat left him lazing about, but that didn’t mean much to him. He had also been sprawled on Lady Clara’s ornate lounge, enjoying the firmness of the well-maintained upholstery and the gentle breeze tussling his bangs.  To find himself waking on the roof of an unknown building in an unknown street was not how he expected the day to go. Surprising as it was, there was little mystery. Many an adventure in his youth was prompted by accidentally teleporting somewhere in his sleep. It was kind of like sleep walking, but with more stress for Lady Clara. He glanced at his wrist only to remember he had taken off his stylish purple gloves and accompanying compass cuff earlier in the day. This was going to make things more difficult. Oh well, no use sitting around worrying. Scaling down the building with relative ease, he decided to just explore for a little while. It’d be a shame to waste the opportunity. Lady Clara was forever scolding him for roaming around like some tom cat. ‘Come home straight away!’ she’d say. ‘You’re never where you’re supposed to be! Disappearing to who knows where whenever the fancy takes you! Honestly, it’s a wonder I haven’t locked the doors by now!’ Translated roughly, she meant ‘I worry when you disappear, so I want you to come straight back.’ Atlas grinned into his knuckles. She was a funny lady, but certainly good quality. He was an adult now – more or less – and she had relaxed some. It helped that he wasn’t under her constant care and supervision anymore. Still, he’d just have a little look around, then head back. Or, at least, a little look, then try to work out where he would be coming back from. His current location was less important than where he wanted to be, but knowing it would probably help.  Music pulsed faintly in the distance, a faint throb indicative of a nightclub type place. Given the back-alley vibes he was getting and the apparent late hour, the club would probably be inhabited primarily by drunks. Atlas sighed. He didn’t want to go amongst drunk people. It was probably the best bet for finding someone to ask his location. Ambling away, he put his money on the opposite direction. Going for the easiest route? Where was the adventure in that?

He must have been a fair way away from Lady Clara’s house. The wind carried a bite more tenacious than that of a summer. Atlas lamented the absence of his favourite dark grey coat. The fur trim, purple of course, was luxuriously soft and oh so fluffy. He really couldn’t complain though, years of waking up in unusual places ensured he was always reasonably covered when he rested. As funny as it would have been, he would not have appreciated exploring in only his boxers.

It wasn’t until the music had faded entirely, replaced with a cricket orchestra more suited to the country than such a populated area, that Atlas finally saw another person. A man, not much older than himself, busied himself opening the large roller doors of a … warehouse, maybe? The mechanisms made such a racket he didn’t notice Atlas approaching him. It was at this point Atlas realised he probably should have tried reading one of the street signs, he had no idea what the common language was here. Hoping it was one he knew, he cleared his throat, immediately catching the other man’s attention. Fabric spun and metal flashed. The knife stopping a mere finger’s width from Atlas’ skin. The two men appraised one another momentarily. This man, decidedly less harmless then Atlas first assumed, was slightly taller than him. His dark hair spiked from his head in organised chaos, complimented by a dark hoody and calculated grin. His teeth were clearly sharp, more so than Atlas’ unusually animalistic ones. Offering a placating smile, Atlas raised his palms to the man. He meant no harm. The switchblade returned to it’s hiding place in one smooth movement but remained at hand. The man’s posture relaxed, replaced with an easy confidence. Most reasonable people would be put off, intimidated even, by a man exuding danger and standing in front of a gaping maw of black. Unfortunately, Atlas was not a terribly reasonable person at times. ‘Foolish’ was almost a nickname at this point. He wasn’t stupid, but, out in the open as they were, he had many escape routes should things go sour. He lowered his hands, resting one in the pocket of his tailored shorts, and waving a greeting with the other. “What are you doing out here?” Ah, English. He knew that one. Lucky~ “Hello,” More accent than he would like, but good enough, “I got a little lost. Would you mind helping me? My name is Atlas, Atlas Mao.” The man tilted his head, lips pursed. “You’ve got cat ears.” It was a question in the form of a statement. “Yep.” He wiggled his ears for emphasis. The man’s grin grew. “Tail too. It was a matching set situation.” Even though he had kept it politely low, he was pretty sure the man had already noticed. The man’s hazel (maybe? It was hard to tell in the dark) eye’s glittered with excitement. “You don’t have … cat people here?” A shake of a head said no. That was unusual, he’d never been to a place where there were no Tainted people. Maybe he was even further than he thought. “Can I touch them?” “P-pardon?” “Your ears. I want to touch them.” The man reached out eagerly. There was a child-like enthusiasm that dampened the automatic ‘no’. Sighing inwardly, Atlas relented and nodded. That’s how he ended up being pet softly in the middle of the night by a very strange man. The plan to wait until his novelty had run its course and then find out where he was, was a bust. The enjoyment the man got appeared to be endless. Being told he was adorable was something he had gotten used to, it becomes necessary when your face becomes a brand, however having someone coo at him in the middle of the night was a bit much. An embarrassed flush crept up his neck as he put some distance between himself and the man. Luckily, he didn’t seem too disappointed, instead pointing out another of Atlas’ peculiarities. “You’re floating.” “Yeah. I don’t want to walk. The floor is really dirty, and my shoes are at home.” He wasn’t that high. Maybe a few inches off the ground. The man narrowed his eyes, considering Atlas again. “You’re not from here, are you?” Finally. He didn’t mind this man, he didn’t know him well enough to decide that he liked him yet, but it felt like some kind of backwards Alice in Wonderland scenario. Given he was the floating cat and all. He really couldn’t stay much longer, he’d promised Lady Clara he’d be in her photoshoot tomorrow. “No. I’m lost. Do you have a map and a compass I could borrow, uh…” “Ivan. You can call me Ivan.” He leaned in closer “I mean it call me.” Atlas didn’t know how to respond to either the wink or the playful nudge. “I’ve got those back home, but I gotta do something first.” He entered the abys of the warehouse, calling over his shoulder. “My cat got out, so I’ve gotta find him before we go back.” Nothing else to do, Atlas followed him in, offering to help search.

The deceptively small light on Ivan’s phone lit up a large chunk of the building. How did the phone have a light in it to begin with? Atlas knew there were some technological leaps lately, but wow! Debris was scattered all over the place. Leaves piled wherever the broken roof permitted. A dry, dusty smell filled the air, clinging to the backs of their throats. With all of the shadows and hidey holes, the chances of finding a cat were slim. Even with his sensitive ears, Atlas couldn’t detect anything other than the scuttling of bugs avoiding Ivan’s light. He strained his eyes but there was neither hide nor hair of any mammal. He was about to tell Ivan that he might want to look else where, but the man cut him off, bellowing “KING CRUNCH!” Evidently, Atlas wasn’t the only one to jump out of their skin. The boxes in the far corner began to rustle in response. Ivan ran over, letting out a proclamation of triumph. “I found my cat!” He dragged an angry, hissing creature from it’s nest, returning to Atlas with a massive smile. Beady eyes glared venomous hatred at Atlas. Little round ears were slicked back and grabby hands scrambled in the air, desperate for a victim. The grey-brown fur bristled like needles. That wasn’t a cat. The raccoon seemed to accept its fate, slumping in Ivan’s arms and chattering murder under its breath. Ivan was positively beaming. “Alright, I got my cat, we can go back. Somehow, he always get’s out when the Bae’s there. It’s weird, I know he likes King Crunch. Who wouldn’t?” Atlas couldn’t help but find Ivan’s clear affection towards his ‘cat’ very sweet. “Why’s he in a jacket?” The fact that the studded leather suited the raccoon was as undeniable as the ridiculousness of addressing raccoon fashion. What an interesting night it was turning out to be. “Oh, that. I tried to put a collar on him, so no one steals him, y’know, but he just kept getting it off. Neal got the jacket made for him so I would” he air quoted “stop moaning about the stupid collar. Good thing King Crunch is so fat, he can’t get his jacket off. No one’s going to mistake him for a stray cat now. I’d have ta kill them if they did though.” He laughed jovially.  

If you’re curious -> Atlas Ivan 

Ivan was created by, and belongs to, @babydollneko

Atlas is my character

Feedback is appreciated!

[moodboardinthecloud]

The Carrier Bag Theory of Fiction

Ursula K. Le Guin

In the temperate and tropical regions where it appears that hominids evolved into human beings, the principal food of the species was vegetable. Sixty-five to eighty percent of what human beings ate in those regions in Paleolithic, Neolithic, and prehistoric times was gathered; only in the extreme Arctic was meat the staple food. The mammoth hunters spectacularly occupy the cave wall and the mind, but what we actually did to stay alive and fat was gather seeds, roots, sprouts, shoots, leaves, nuts, berries, fruits, and grains, adding bugs and mollusks and netting or snaring birds, fish, rats, rabbits, and other tuskless small fry to up the protein. And we didn’t even work hard at it — much less hard than peasants slaving in somebody else’s field after agriculture was invented, much less hard than paid workers since civilization was invented. The average prehistoric person could make a nice living in about a fifteen-hour work week.

Fifteen hours a week for subsistence leaves a lot of time for other things. So much time that maybe the restless ones who didn’t have a baby around to enliven their life, or skill in making or cooking or singing, or very interesting thoughts to think, decided to slope off and hunt mammoths. The skillful hunters would come staggering back with a load of meat, a lot of ivory, and a story. It wasn’t the meat that made the difference. It was the story.

It is hard to tell a really gripping tale of how I wrestled a wild-oat seed from its husk, and then another, and then another, and then another, and then another, and then I scratched my gnat bites, and Ool said something funny, and we went to the creek and got a drink and watched newts for a while, and then I found another patch of oats.... No, it does not compare, it cannot compete with how I thrust my spear deep into the titanic hairy flank while Oob, impaled on one huge sweeping tusk, writhed screaming, and blood sprouted everywhere in crimson torrents, and Boob was crushed to jelly when the mammoth fell on him as I shot my unerring arrow straight through eye to brain.

That story not only has Action, it has a Hero. Heroes are powerful. Before you know it, the men and women in the wild-oat patch and their kids and the skills of makers and the thoughts of the thoughtful and the songs of the singers are all part of it, have all been pressed into service in the tale of the Hero. But it isn’t their story. It’s his.

When she was planning the book that ended up as Three Guineas, Virginia Woolf wrote a heading in her notebook, “Glossary”; she had thought of reinventing English according to her new plan, in order to tell a different story. One of the entries in this glossary is heroism, defined as “botulism.” And hero, in Woolf’s dictionary, is “bottle.” The hero as bottle, a stringent reevaluation. I now propose the bottle as hero.

Not just the bottle of gin or wine, but bottle in its older sense of container in general, a thing that holds something else.

If you haven’t got something to put it in, food will escape you — even something as uncombative and unresourceful as an oat. You put as many as you can into your stomach while they are handy, that being the primary container; but what about tomorrow morning when you wake up and it’s cold and raining and wouldn’t it be good to have just a few handfuls of oats to chew on and give little Oom to make her shut up, but how do you get more than one stomachful and one handful home? So you get up and go to the damned soggy oat patch in the rain, and wouldn’t it be a good thing if you had something to put Baby Oo Oo in so that you could pick the oats with both hands? A leaf a gourd shell a net a bag a sling a sack a bottle a pot a box a container. A holder. A recipient.

The first cultural device was probably a recipient.... Many theorizers feel that the earliest cultural inventions must have been a container to hold gathered products and some kind of sling or net carrier.

So says Elizabeth Fisher in Women’s Creation (McGraw-Hill, 1975). But no, this cannot be. Where is that wonderful, big, long, hard thing, a bone, I believe, that the Ape Man first bashed somebody in the movie and then, grunting with ecstasy at having achieved the first proper murder, flung up into the sky, and whirling there it became a space ship thrusting its way into the cosmos to fertilize it and produce at the end of the movie a lovely fetus, a boy of course, drifting around the Milky Way without (oddly enough) any womb, any matrix at all? I don’t know. I don’t even care. I’m not telling that story. We’ve heard it, we’ve all heard about all the sticks and spears and swords, the things to bash and poke and hit with, the long, hard things, but we have not heard about the thing to put things in, the container for the thing contained. That is a new story. That is news.

And yet old. Before — once you think about it, surely long before — the weapon, a late, luxurious, superfluous tool; long before the useful knife and ax; right along with the indispensable whacker, grinder, and digger — for what’s the use of digging up a lot of potatoes if you have nothing to lug the ones you can’t eat home in — with or before the tool that forces energy outward, we made the tool that brings energy home. It makes sense to me. I am an adherent of what Fisher calls the Carrier Bag Theory of human evolution.

This theory not only explains large areas of theoretical obscurity and avoids large areas of theoretical nonsense (inhabited largely by tigers, foxes, and other highly territorial mammals); it also grounds me, personally, in human culture in a way I never felt grounded before. So long as culture was explained as originating from and elaborating upon the use of long, hard objects for sticking, bashing, and killing, I never thought that I had, or wanted, any particular share in it. (“What Freud mistook for her lack of civilization is woman’s lack of loyalty to civilization,” Lillian Smith observed.) The society, the civilization they were talking about, these theoreticians, was evidently theirs; they owned it, they liked it; they were human, fully human, bashing, sticking, thrusting, killing. Wanting to be human too, I sought for evidence that I was; but if that’s what it took, to make a weapon and kill with it, then evidently I was either extremely defective as a human being, or not human at all.

That’s right, they said. What you are is a woman. Possibly not human at all, certainly defective. Now be quiet while we go on telling the Story of the Ascent of Man the Hero.

Go on, say I, wandering off towards the wild oats, with Oo Oo in the sling and little Oom carrying the basket. You just go on telling how the mammoth fell on Boob and how Cain fell on Abel and how the bomb fell on Nagasaki and how the burning jelly fell on the villagers and how the missiles will fall on the Evil Empire, and all the other steps in the Ascent of Man.

If it is a human thing to do to put something you want, because it’s useful, edible, or beautiful, into a bag, or a basket, or a bit of rolled bark or leaf, or a net woven of your own hair, or what have you, and then take it home with you, home being another, larger kind of pouch or bag, a container for people, and then later on you take it out and eat it or share it or store it up for winter in a solider container or put it in the medicine bundle or the shrine or the museum, the holy place, the area that contains what is sacred, and then next day you probably do much the same again — if to do that is human, if that’s what it takes, then I am a human being after all. Fully, freely, gladly, for the first time.

Not, let it be said at once, an unaggressive or uncombative human being. I am an aging, angry woman laying mightily about me with my handbag, fighting hoodlums off. However I don’t, nor does anybody else, consider myself heroic for doing so. It’s just one of those damned things you have to do in order to be able to go on gathering wild oats and telling stories.

It is the story that makes the difference. It is the story that hid my humanity from me, the story the mammoth hunters told about bashing, thrusting, raping, killing, about the Hero. The wonderful, poisonous story of Botulism. The killer story.

It sometimes seems that the story is approaching its end. Lest there be no more telling of stories at all, some of us out here in the wild oats, amid the alien corn, think we’d better start telling another one, which maybe people can go on with when the old one’s finished. Maybe. The trouble is, we’ve all let ourselves become part of the killer story, and so we may get finished along with it. Hence it is with a certain feeling of urgency that I seek the nature, subject, words of the other story, the untold one, the life story.

It’s unfamiliar, it doesn’t come easily, thoughtlessly, to the lips as the killer story does; but still, “untold” was an exaggeration. People have been telling the life story for ages, in all sorts of words and ways. Myths of creation and transformation, trickster stories, folktales, jokes, novels....

The novel is a fundamentally unheroic kind of story. Of course the Hero has frequently taken it over, that being his imperial nature and uncontrollable impulse, to take everything over and run it while making stern decrees and laws to control his uncontrollable impulse to kill it. So the Hero has decreed through his mouthpieces the Lawgivers, first, that the proper shape of the narrative is that of the arrow or spear, starting here and going straight thereand THOK! hitting its mark (which drops dead); second, that the central concern of narrative, including the novel, is conflict; and third, that the story isn’t any good if he isn’t in it.

I differ with all of this. I would go so far as to say that the natural, proper, fitting shape of the novel might be that of a sack, a bag. A book holds words. Words hold things. They bear meanings. A novel is a medicine bundle, holding things in a particular, powerful relation to one another and to us.

One relationship among elements in the novel may well be that of conflict, but the reduction of narrative to conflict is absurd. (I have read a how-to-write manual that said, “A story should be seen as a battle,” and went on about strategies, attacks, victory, etc.) Conflict, competition, stress, struggle, etc., within the narrative conceived as carrier bag/belly/box/house/medicine bundle, may be seen as necessary elements of a whole which itself cannot be characterized either as conflict or as harmony, since its purpose is neither resolution nor stasis but continuing process.

Finally, it’s clear that the Hero does not look well in this bag. He needs a stage or a pedestal or a pinnacle. You put him in a bag and he looks like a rabbit, like a potato.

That is why I like novels: instead of heroes they have people in them.

So, when I came to write science-fiction novels, I came lugging this great heavy sack of stuff, my carrier bag full of wimps and klutzes, and tiny grains of things smaller than a mustard seed, and intricately woven nets which when laboriously unknotted are seen to contain one blue pebble, an imperturbably functioning chronometer telling the time on another world, and a mouse’s skull; full of beginnings without ends, of initiations, of losses, of transformations and translations, and far more tricks than conflicts, far fewer triumphs than snares and delusions; full of space ships that get stuck, missions that fail, and people who don’t understand. I said it was hard to make a gripping tale of how we wrested the wild oats from their husks, I didn’t say it was impossible. Who ever said writing a novel was easy?

If science fiction is the mythology of modern technology, then its myth is tragic. “Technology,” or “modern science” (using the words as they are usually used, in an unexamined shorthand standing for the “hard” sciences and high technology founded upon continuous economic growth), is a heroic undertaking, Herculean, Promethean, conceived as triumph, hence ultimately as tragedy. The fiction embodying this myth will be, and has been, triumphant (Man conquers earth, space, aliens, death, the future, etc.) and tragic (apocalypse, holocaust, then or now).

If, however, one avoids the linear, progressive, Time’s-(killing)-arrow mode of the Techno-Heroic, and redefines technology and science as primarily cultural carrier bag rather than weapon of domination, one pleasant side effect is that science fiction can be seen as a far less rigid, narrow field, not necessarily Promethean or apocalyptic at all, and in fact less a mythological genre than a realistic one.

It is a strange realism, but it is a strange reality.

Science fiction properly conceived, like all serious fiction, however funny, is a way of trying to describe what is in fact going on, what people actually do and feel, how people relate to everything else in this vast stack, this belly of the universe, this womb of things to be and tomb of things that were, this unending story. In it, as in all fiction, there is room enough to keep even Man where he belongs, in his place in the scheme of things; there is time enough to gather plenty of wild oats and sow them too, and sing to little Oom, and listen to Ool’s joke, and watch newts, and still the story isn’t over. Still there are seeds to be gathered, and room in the bag of stars.

https://theanarchistlibrary.org/library/ursula-k-le-guin-the-carrier-bag-theory-of-fiction

[askdawnandvern]

A Lamb Among Wolves

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Girls Night: The Art of Romance

"When did you know?" She asked.

"Hmm?" Dawn replied.

"When did you know you loved him?" The diminutive fox added. "That he was the one?"

A warm smile crept across Dawn's muzzle as she thought back to early days when she first met Vernon. Despite all the terror, and danger that the "Zootopia's Last Night" case sent rippling through her already troubled life, it had all been worth it to have been lucky enough to reconnect with the wolf. And even now, looking back on those early days in their relationship filled the ewe with renewed warmth and love for her soulmate.

"Well, I would be lying If I said it was the moment we met." Dawn said with a chuckle. " Despite having shelves filled with books filled with all sorts of tawdry romances, with couples knowing as soon as they laid eyes on one another that they belonged together, I don't believe it works like that in real life." The ewe shook her head dismissively. " Well at least, not in my case."

Dawn shifted up Vanna's bed slightly, the large tigress moving over a bit to allow the lamb to lean her back against the head of the bed. The ewe leaned back slightly, placing her hooves on her chest as she continued to recall the day Vernon and she had first reunited.

"I should mention first, that Vernon and I did know each other briefly as kids." Dawn said.

"Really?" Qali chirped.

"Aw...puppyhood love huh?" Malcolm cooed.

Dawn giggled. "Unfortunately no, although I certainly wish things had gone that way." The ewe flashed a warm smile. "Perhaps if we had actually had the time, maybe something like that could have happened. But we didn't get to know each other long enough."

Qali frowned sharply, the little fox's ears flattening out in dismay. "Why?" The vixen asked, concern in her voice.

Dawn frowned as she remembered the miserable day when her Father had ended her friendship with Vernon. The drunken ram nearly tearing her arm off in an effort to rip away the 'offending' friendship bracelet she had made while berating her in the process. The day that had left her with a dislocated shoulder, a blackened eye, and the death of the only friendship she ever had.

"M-my Father put an end to things." Dawn sighed sadly. " He was..." Dawn closed her eyes, the memories of that day causing a dull ache to ripple through the areas her Father had hurt all those years ago. "A very cruel mammal."

Ada let out a low growl, and as Dawn turned her attention to the large canid she could see her expression was a mixture of disgust and ire.

"I get ya." Ada growled. Clearly the hyeness had picked up on Dawn's subtle implications. "He's dead now right? Because a dat Night Howla ting?"

Dawn nodded affirmatively, her response seeming to ease Ada's attitude as a smug grin returned to her face.

"Good ting." Ada snorted. "Oddawise I'd love to pay him a visit and teach him how it feels to be at anuddah mammal's mercy."

Dawn felt a paw on her shoulder and turned to find Vanna now looking down at her with sympathetic eyes.

"I'm sorry Dawn." Vanna said sadly. "No mammal should have to go through that kind of thing."

Dawn placed her hoof on Vanna's paw, rubbing it affectionately as she offered the cat a small smile. " Thank you..." The ewe turned her smile to the rest of the girls. "All of you, but I'm okay now." Dawn rolled her eyes slightly. "Well, mostly okay. But there's little left to be said about my Father, and I'd rather not dwell on it any more than I have to." Dawn gingerly removed Vanna's paw from her shoulder, smiling widely at the rest of the Hunter girls. "This story is about love, not my lousy childhood."

Slowly but surely, Dawn's smile seemed to infect the others, pulling the atmosphere back to the previous warmth it had held before.

"When I first met Vernon..." Dawn chuckled, shaking her head. "I mean again. I didn't know how to feel." The ewe adjusted her glasses. "We didn't recognize each at first, it was only after working together for a while that we sort of rediscovered our friendship." Dawn placed her hooves on her hips, tilting her head toward Vanna slightly as she eyed the looming tigress. "So imagine me, this little runt of a ewe who just got out of jail. Predator enemy number one. And my new boss introduces me to the biggest wolf I've ever seen and tells me we'll be working together!" Dawn laughed. "I was terrified!"

"I hear that." Qali said with a smirk. "The first time I met Trenny was a real trip.  A six foot four wall of ice that made the primal part of my brain scream 'run away'!" The diminutive fox giggled. "But the rational part of my brain was like, 'Hello handsome.'!"

Ada chuckled. "Yeah, and you didn't even have dat whole anti-pred criminal past to add to it." Ada quirked an eyebrow at the ewe. "I can't even begin to imagine what was runnin' through your head dere Fluff Butt."

Dawn shook her head as she chuckled. " Pretty much everything you could expect. Fears of being eaten, or being made an example of, or the gods know what." Dawn sighed. "I mean it was silly, but the place I was in at the time, any terrible thing seemed possible."

Dawn smirked. "But Vernon, he was a gentlemam' through and through. If he held anything against me at the time, he certainly didn't show it."

"That sounds like a Hunter for ya." Malcolm interjected.

"Except for maybe Dori." Qali huffed.

Dawn winced at the mention of the large white wolf, but did her best to keep the memories of her conversation buried by pressing on through her story.

"He even went so far as to help me to get some semblance of a life together. When the bank, or the grocer had refused to deal with me, Vernon stepped in and made sure they stopped discriminating against me." Dawn let out an affectionate sigh. "And this was before we even found out we were friends growing up. He just did it out of the goodness of his heart. Because he was willing to give me a chance."

"Which is more than the city sounds like it was willing to offer." Vanna added, earning a nod from Dawn.

"I don't fault the mammals in Zootopia for feeling the way they did, but how could I even start to try to turn over a new leaf if no one was willing to give me the opportunity?" Dawn asked.

"So what happened when you two figured out who you guys were!?" Qali jumped in, the fox now laying across the bed with her head on her paws. Qali was trained on Dawn, her eyes focus on her own as she eyed the ewe expectantly.

Dawn offered a wide grin in response to the eager fox. "Oh, we were ecstatic, especially Vernon." The ewe flicked a hoof lazily. "He was keen on making up for lost time, and making our shifts as fun as possible." Dawn sighed dreamily, her eyelids fluttering softly as she recalled the warm memories of the silly fun the pair had on their many night shifts at the Bug Burga. "And it was during that time I started to feel...things..."

"Tings huh?" Ada cooed, quirking her eyebrows playfully at the ewe.

"I wouldn't say it was love just yet." Dawn held up a hoof to the snarky hyena. " After all, the lamb in me couldn't conceive attraction to a predator, especially a wolf." Dawn chuckled, shaking her head dismissively. "I mean, I had never even dated outside my species. I had only ever been in relationships with rams, and anything beyond that was alien to me."

"I can sort of understand that." Vanna said, scratching the back of her head idly. " It was strange for me to....figure out I was attracted to Zach." Vanna paused, rolling her eyes slightly as she chewed on her lip. "I mean, accepting that I was."

Dawn nodded. "I think I was really able to start to grasp it when Vernon and I were forced to move in together."

"Wait, you two moved in togeddah?" Ada asked. "Why?"

"Well, my apartment burned down." Dawn said somberly.

Each of the Hunter girls flashed the ewe a puzzled and concerned look, but Dawn simply rolled her eyes, dismissively flicking a hoof. "It's a long story, but with nowhere else to stay, Vernon was dead set on me living with him."

"And then the sparks started flyin'?" Malcolm asked, a warm and silly smile crawling up his muzzle.

Dawn giggled, shifting back against her pillow as she found herself recalling some of the things that had happened during their 'friendly co-habitation', most notably Vernon helping her shear, and accidentally walking in on her in the bathroom.

"You could say that." Dawn said, with a knowing grin. "But honestly, by then I was struggling with my growing feelings for Vernon. I couldn't tell if it was just because he had been kind to me and I latched on to him, or if it was something about his smell, or because I hadn't lived so close to a male in years." Dawn chuckled. "I was looking for any way to rationalize it, to chase it away as silly infatuation."

"But obviously it wasn't." Vanna said with a knowing grin of her own.

Dawn let out an amorous sigh. "It took my therapist to kind of drive it home for me, but it was true. I had fallen head over hooves for a wolf."

"Aww..." Qali cooed. "That so sweet!"

"So whendya tellum?" Ada grinned.

Dawn grimaced slightly. Realizing she was in love with the wolf hadn't been as wonderful as it should have been at the outset. She struggled with the complex problems and emotions that such a love could carry with it, especially considering her place in Zootopia at the time. In that way, her love for the wolf was an agony the ewe simply couldn't endure living under, for the safety of each of them.

"I...didn't..." Dawn muttered sadly.

"What!" Qali yelped, frowning sharply. The fox pressed her paws against the mattress, leaning her body closer to the ewe. "Why!?"

Dawn shook her head. "I just..." Dawn placed a hoof to her head. "With who I was, and what Vernon wanted to be, I couldn't take a chance at ruining his life like that." Dawn sighed. "I didn't want to hurt him because I selfishly expected him to love me."

Dawn leaned back, staring up at the ceiling as she rested her hooves on her chest.

"I gave serious consideration to moving out." Dawn murmured.

The room remained quiet for a moment, the Hunter girls falling deaf at how heavy the ewe's story had grown. It was clear the girls were unsure of what to say, at least at first. But eventually, Ada broke the deafening silence.

"Butcha didn't, did ya?" Ada asked.

Dawn sat back up, propping up the pillow before leaning against it again.

"Before I could, things went kind of crazy..." Dawn said. "I trust most of you heard about that story. About the wine bottling plant, and my Father's attempt to destroy the city. And then after that...well..." Dawn winced, recalling her stay in the hospital, her brush with death at the hooves of the night howler toxin. It would have been a fitting end for someone like her. At least that's what she had thought at the time. "I was out of it for a while."

"I remember reading about it." Vanna added, scratching her head awkwardly. " You were the only survivor out of the mammals that were exposed."

Dawn nodded slightly. "Myself and Doug, not that it mattered."

"So what happened next?" Qali asked, now using her paws to sort of bounce in place.

Dawn smiled warmly as she recalled the moment Vernon had first told her how he felt. At a time where the wolf was unsure if she could even hear him. Somewhere through the dreamlike haze of the coma and lingering night howler effects, the wolf's words had managed to reach her, and spurred her back to the waking world.

"A lot of what happened was...fuzzy." Dawn said. "I'm not well versed in about how a coma will affect a mammal in most cases. But for me...I was vaguely aware Vernon was near me." Dawn sighed. "I could hear him sometimes, and I always sort of felt him."

A wide, warm grin crawled across Dawn's muzzle as she readied to tell the girls what she had heard. "And somewhere through the fog hanging over my brain, I heard Vernon tell me he loved me. That he always had."

That managed to earn a collective 'aww' from the Hunter girls, Ada excluded. Qali was practically in awe, the fox beaming in response to Vernon's declaration.

"That's soo adorable!" Qali squeed. "He loved you just as much the whole time!"

Dawn giggled at the enthusiastic fox.

"Y-yes well, keep in mind he didn't know I heard him." Dawn said, regaining some of her composure. "So when I actually woke up, Vernon didn't exactly repeat himself."

"Pft...ain't dat like a guy." Ada scoffed. "What is it about tellin' a goil ya love 'em dat scares 'em to death?"

Dawn giggled, raising a hoof to Ada again. "Well don't worry, I didn't plan on letting it go." Dawn grinned widely. "I just needed to wait for the right moment."

"So when was the right moment?" Vanna asked.

Dawn adjusted her glasses slightly. "When we got home of course. When it was just the two of us." Dawn smirked. "I told him that I heard what he said, and I needed to hear it again." Dawn let out an amorous sigh, holding her hoof against her heart as a heat welled deep inside her chest. "And that's when he told me how much he truly loved me, and that I was the one."

Another series of 'awws' rippled through the group, with Ada even contributing this time. Malcolm dabbed the corner of his eye as he began to waft a paw toward his face.

"Shoot, I'm wellin' up here..." The chubby wolf sniffled.

Dawn was smiling broadly now, but more at the thought of Vernon than the story. Of that moment in her life, and how it felt. The fire inside her chest practically stung with love for the large wolf, and in that instant she wished he had been in the room, just so the ewe could plant a kiss on his muzzle. Vernon would never know how much his love had truly saved her life in so many ways, but when it came to moments like this it only strengthened the ewe's resolve to do her best to show him every day.

"And I finally got to tell him the same." Dawn sighed.

"And then you kissed right!?" Qali added with a gleeful grin.

"Dey probably did more den dat." Ada chuckled, flashing the ewe a grin.

Dawn placed her hooves over her muzzle as a harsh blush began to form. The heat that had been in her chest was now flushing to her face in full force.

"Y-you aren't wrong..." Dawn trailed off.

With that, the other girls, as well as Malcolm, burst into giggling, Dawn joining just moments later. The girls seemed to spend a good while giggling before they managed to compose themselves, Dawn being one of the first to manage to catch her breath despite herself. Turning her attention to Ada, the ewe arched an eyebrow curiously at the hyeness.

"What about you Ada?" Dawn asked. "I'm kind of curious as to your relationship with Yuri."

"Yeah, it's a curious one all right." Qali said through giggles as the fox tried to regain her composure.

"Oh yeah?" Ada snickered. "What's so curious about it?"

Dawn winced slightly, biting her lip as she tried to figure out exactly how to phrase her response without accidentally offending the hyena. After a few moments with no success, the ewe found herself looking up to Vanna with pleading eyes. The large tigress briefly quirked an eyebrow before seeming to get the ewe's message.

"I think she wants to know what you see in Yuri." Vanna said bluntly.

"Yeah." Malcolm added. "I mean that boy sure is...a erm..." The wolf mumbled, playing with his paws nervously. "I mean he's a pill."

"I was just wondering..." Dawn said, continuing to wince. "When did you figure out you loved him?"

"Do you even love that jerk?" Qali added, the fox had returned to leaning on her paws as her attention now fixed on the large canid.

Dawn grimaced sharply in response to Qali's bluntness, worrying for a moment that Ada would take to arming pillows like Vanna had before. But the hyeness simply cackled in the trademark fashion of her species before trailing off into a wistful sigh.

Ada turned her attention to the group, her expression surprisingly gentle and warm in spite of her usual personality.

"I know Yuri's a jerk." Ada said with a chuckle. "But he can be a sweet fella when it comes down to it."

"On what planet?" Malcolm laughed.

Ada closed her eyes, shaking her head as another laugh escaped her throat. "He's just really insecure, and more worried about what everyone tinks of him den he wants to admit." Ada smiled. "I guess I'm de only one who really gets to see dat dough."

"I'd say so..." Vanna replied.

With that, Ada leaned back onto her pillow, placing her paws behind her head as she stared at the ceiling above.

"Me and Yuri, we both got pretty demandin' jobs." Ada said, raising a paw. "Yuri's runnin' detective woik, on call almost twenty-four seven. And me, I'm a noise at da hospital workin' night shifts."

"You're a nurse?" Dawn asked.

Ada chuckled. "I work mostly in da morgue, figurin' out what killed mammals. Sometimes I woik Emergency, but I prefer da morgue." The hyena turned her head to Dawn, flashing the ewe a playful grin. "Dey don't complain' about my jokes."

Dawn placed her hooves over her muzzle as she let out a giggle, to which Ada replied with a wide, over dramatic open mouth smile as if inviting the other girls to laugh at her joke. Sadly, there were no other takers, and with that the canid continued her tale.

"Yuri and I had been togedduh for..." Ada tapped a claw to her muzzle as she tried to pin down a date. With a nod, the hyena continued. "It was about a year, yeah, one year exactly actually."

Ada smirked. "I remember because it was our anniversary, or raddah, it was supposed'ta be."

Dawn frowned. "Oh, what happened?" Consider Yuri's general demeanor, the ewe found herself already assuming that the wolf and hyena had gotten into a fight.

"What happened?" Ada repeated, arching an eyebrow at the ewe briefly before turning her attention back to the ceiling. Ada let out a long, tired sigh. "Woik happened."

Ada dragged a paw over her face, allowing it to rest on her chin before she continued.

"Lotta crimes at da time. O course dat meant Yuri's phone was ringin' off da hook at all howers of da day." Ada placed her arms behind her head. "And as fa me? Well da hospital was going trew a really bad period, where we was horribly undastaffed." Ada rolled her eyes. "So dat meant old 'good goil' Ada was runnin' extra howers and back to back shifts."

"Oh." Dawn said, frowning.

"I just remembah bein' so tiyad..." Ada groaned. "I swear sometimes I just wanted ta crawl up onto one of da body slabs and have someone roll it inta da wall so I could get some real shuteye." Ada smirked." I don't tink da neighbors wouldda complained, but my boss sure would have." Ada grinned, winking at the ewe and earning another giggle.

"And Yuri was busy too?" Qali asked.

"And grumpy" Ada chuckled. "Da both of us was. We was too tired to even argue!" Ada leaned up, facing the rest of the girls. "We'd just get home, say hi, and go ta bed, if we was that lucky."

"Ugh, that sounds rough." Malcolm winced, the wolf seemingly disgusted at the prospect of being pushed that hard. It was something Dawn was at least familiar with, having spent many late nights prepping work that Lionheart would always take credit for. Sufficed to say it was not something she missed, and she could certainly relate to Ada's predicament.

"We was supposed tah do a dinner ting." Ada raised her paw. "Fancy restaurant in Seaodder, evening at da top of da Space Needle havin' drinks. Da woiks." Ada shook her head. "We had reservations."

"And I take it you had to cancel?" Dawn asked sadly.

Ada sighed. "We sat down, had a talk about it."  Ada raised an arm before letting it flop back to her side. "Wit our howers bein' what dey were, we knew it wasn't happenin'. So we decided to move it a few months. Till our schedules cleared up." The hyeness placed her paws on her chest. "It was sad, but we accepted it."

The room was quiet for a moment, the awkward somber silence from before returning to once again hang over the room. Dawn wanted to say something, but found herself unsure exactly what to say. Much like her own story, Ada's had taken a disappointing dip, and the mood in the room had shifted to reflect it.

"Geeze, I thought this was supposed to be a romantic story." Qali muttered with a yawn. "You're starting to bum me out Chuckles."

Ada let out a hyena cackle, leaning her head on her paw as she turned toward the group.

"I'm gettin' dere squit. Stop gettin' ahead of everybody!" Ada laughed.

Qali winced, her ears flattening as she looked around at the others in embarrassment.

"Sorry..." She whined, returning to her prone position on the bed. Ada simply rolled her eyes before continuing.

"So, as I was sayin'. We agreed to put off da anniversary for a while." Ada sighed. "And I was fine wit dat." Ada raised her paws. "After all, it's justa day."

Ada turned around, laying on her stomach as she stretched out across the center of her bed, allowing her to now fully face the others.

"So fast foward to da night right? Yuri's out on a case, and I'm at da hospital." Ada wiped her eyes with her paw. "I was on the bad end of a back to back twelve hower shift, wit only about two howers total snooze time, and I was feelin' it bad."

Ada shook her head sharply. "I felt like my guys on da gurneys did, only at least dey got to lay down." Ada cackled, drawing a few stray giggles from the other girls. "And I needed a cawfee bad."

The hyeness' normally jovial expression shifted to a scowl as she rested her head on both of her paws. "Unfortunately da hospital cawfee tastes like a weasel piss, and is about as eneagetic as a sloth."

Vanna arched an eyebrow curiously. "How do you know what weasel piss tastes like?" The tigress asked.

Ada shook her head. "Kit Kat, I woik at a hospital. At one point or anuddah a tiyud noise or doctor is gonna accidentally take a sip of a specimin." The hyeness grinned widely. "Sadly I didn't notice I was drinkin' Mr. Weasletto's sample till dere was only a toid of it left. I really tought it was da cawfee!"

Dawn found herself chuckling slightly despite her disgust. She hoped that the hyena was simply making another lousy joke, if not for her sake then for Ada's own.

"Anyway, so I'm practically fallin' asleep in da Emergency Room when finally, by da grace of da gods, I get my break." Ada sighed. "toity minutes of not doin' anyting neva sounded so sweet, I tells ya." The hyeness grinned widely. "So I skulk off to da morgue to just sit in silence and try to keep myself up with some dumb phone games."

"Anything good?" Qali asked?

Ada shrugged. "Day're phone game, of course not!" Ada chuckled. "Mostly crosswoids and dose numbah puzzles. Da stuff you don't have to keep payin' to play."

"You do crosswords?" Dawn asked, flashing the hyeness a surprised glance. The ewe couldn't help herself. Despite not wanting to make assumptions about Ada, the canid didn't seem the type that was particularly wordy.

Ada shook her head slightly, her grin widening as she regarded the ewe. "Hey, just because I'm a street goil don't mean I don't enjoy eduactin' myself!" Ada raised her paw, flicking it outward as she rolled her eyes. "I'll have you know I didn't get to bein' a noise by sittin' on my paws all day. I hustled!" Ada let out a barking laugh.

"Or the standards for medically trained mammals in the Seaodder area are really, really low?" Vanna said with a smirk.

"Shh!" The sudden exclamation had come from Qali. The little fox was now standing on her tippy toes, reaching a paw to Vanna's lips as she stared at her with a deadly serious stare. "I want to know what happened!" Qali said, raising her eyebrows as she gazed into the tigress' eyes. Vanna stared back at the diminutive fox in surprise.

Ada let out another barking laugh. "Geeze Snowball, youse I really into dis stuff huh?" Ada shook her head dismissively, rolling her eyes as she leaned back against her pillow. The hyeness placed her paws behind her head again, her gaze lazily returning to the ceiling.

"I'm nearly asleep sittin' up, when someone knocks at da morge door." Ada said, arching an eyebrow in the groups direction. "Obviously dats not sometin' that usually happens in da hospital, so naturally my curiosity is peaked."

The hyeness slowly rose up before shifting into a prone position, a smirk on her face as she struck a stalking pose on her bed.

"So I creep over to da double doors, and who do I find?"

"Yuri? Was it Yuri?" Qali chirped. "It was him right?"

Ada rolled her eyes as she slipped back into a seated position, crossing her legs on the mattress.

"A 'course it was Yuri frost fa brains!" Ada chuckled. "Uddarwise why would I be tellin' dis story!?"

Dawn watched as Vanna gave the tiny fox a soft but playful nudge, pressing her head down slightly with one of her massive paws. Qali was quick to pull away, swatting at the cat as she giggled.

"So dere's my favorite little mook, standin' in the hall with two extra large pipin' hot cawfees from Snarlbucks. One of dem brewed to da nines wit all my favorite mix-ins." Ada's eyes took on a dreamlike glimmer as she stared off. "Dat night, it smelled like heaven itself." The hyena let out an amorous sigh as she clasped her paws together. "Toins out, my little mookie lined up his break wit mine so he could spend it wit me, and he brought me my favorite cawfee cause he knew I needed it."

Ada leaned back on the bed, allowing her head to lean on her shoulder as she flashed Dawn a warm grin. "He drove halfway across town just to spend like ten minutes wit me, and make sure I had da energy to keep goin'." Ada sighed. "I can still remember just sittin' dere, and Yuri's got his arm around me. We was just talkin' and drinkin' our cawffees, and makin' sure we was both alright."

Ada turned to face the group, laying horizontal across her bed as she rested her head on her paws.

"It was sumtin' so small, so paltry ya know?" Ada chuckled. "And it was probably da least romantic place in da world." The hyeness let out a warm, contented sigh. "But damn it, It made my day. Heck it made my year." The hyena offered a wide, toothy grin. "And dat's when I knew, I loved dat mook."

"Wow." Malcolm said, the heavyset wolf matching Ada's pose with a dreamy look of his own crawling across his muzzle. "I gotta say, I'm really surprised."

"That Yuri showed he cared for someone other than himself?" Vanna smirked.

Malcolm let out a hearty laugh, nodding slowly through the chuckling as he placed a paw to his muzzle.

"Aw c'mon, I'm openin' up here!" Ada barked, wafting a paw at the pair dismissively. "Whatddya tink I made it up to make him look good!? I ain't dat nice!" Ada chuckled. "If he's bein' an ass, I ain't gonna cover for him!"

Qali rolled her eyes, a bemused smirk plastered on her muzzle. "Uh-huh." The fox cooed sarcastically.

"Look, you want confirmation? You ask Yuri's partnuh!" Ada snickered. "Dat poor stag had to wait in da car while Yuri took his break wit me. Let alone da fact dat dey had to drive twenty minutes outta duh way to get to duh hospital, which dat prissy buck was none to happy about." Ada grinned. "He always brings it up every time I see him!"

"Oh that's convenient." Qali grinned, lolling her head back and forth on her paws as she continued to tease Ada. " We're never even going to meet that guy, so how are we supposed to confirm it?"

Ada scoffed. "Jeeze, what's wit da toid degree!?"

Qali began giggling, rolling slightly in her seat in amusement.

"I-I'm just teasin'" Qali stuttered through her giggling. "It's very romantic, honest!"

"Well, I thought it was lovely Ada." Dawn added, trying to sound as sincere as possible. As much as she believed Ada, the ewe still found it hard to picture the wolf doing such a thoughtful, albeit simple gesture. Then again, she really didn't know much about the wolf to begin with other than what Vernon and the others had said about him, and her limited interaction with him at breakfast. Ada certainly was in a unique position to see a side of the dark furred wolf that no one else could, much in the way Dawn was when it came to Vernon. But picturing the seemingly cold wolf being anything close to affectionate was practically as mind-bending as catching him kiss the hyeness on the muzzle earlier that day.

Ada lowered her eyebrows, letting out an irritable grumble. "Alright den Squoit, why dontchu tell us your story so I can poke holes in dat!"

Qali jumped up almost instantly, standing on Vanna's bed as she clasped her paws together. Her eyes shone with a glee and enthusiasm that was almost scary to Dawn, as if the fox were ready to simply burst through the ceiling at the prospect of being invited to tell her tale.

"Gladly!" Qali chirped happily, grinning widely as she quickly laid back down on Vanna's bed. The fox once again leaned herself on Vanna's leg, laying her head on her arms as her eyes flicked from mammal to mammal. Qali brought a paw to her muzzle, chewing on her claws idly as she began.

"So, I should mention first that my sisters and I, well we help our parents run a Yule tree farm." Qali raised an eyebrow in Dawn's direction. "Did I mention that before?"

Dawn gave a slight nod. "I've heard you mention it a few times." Dawn tapped her chin with a hoof. "Well, at least about climbing trees anyway."

Qali nodded briskly. "Well, that's what my sisters and I do, more or less." Qali's tail idly flipped from side to side as she continued to speak. "We plant 'em, trim 'em, and sell them just in time for the Yule Season. And we do a pretty good job!" Qali leaned up on Vanna's leg, placing a paw to her chest as she puffed it out proudly. "Mammals come from all over The Burrows to Fox's Glen to get their holiday trees from Pelagere Farms!"

Qali raised and lowered her eyebrows playfully. "And not to brag, but when it comes to tree trimming, I'm the best out of my sisters!" Qali leaned forward, placing a paw by her muzzle as she leaned toward Dawn and Vanna. "And don't let them tell you otherwise, they know it's the truth." Qali whispered before letting out another giggle.

Vanna and Dawn traded glances for a moment before the large tigress simply rolled her eyes, causing Dawn to let out a giggle of her own as Qali settled back into her position on Vanna's leg. Qali let out a soft sigh as she leaned her head on a free paw.

"Anyway, So I first met Trenny around the time of the Carrot Days Festival." The diminutive fox rolled her eyes slightly, waving a paw idly. "It's sort of like the Harvest Festival around the burrows. More of a rabbit thing I think."

Dawn nodded affirmatively. "Yes, I've heard of it." The ewe found herself thinking of her dear friend Judy, the rabbit now on her own holiday vacation with similar goals of introducing her family to Nick as her new mate. The only difference being was that the family already knew Nick fairly well. The fox had long since earned a place among the Hopps as the mammal who kept Judy's dream afloat, and was there to save her life. Dawn frowned slightly as she imagined the announcement of Judy and Nick being an item would probably go over with significantly less friction than Vernon and herself.

"A friend of mine is actually out there right now with her mate enjoying the festival." Dawn scratched her chin as she realized she hadn't heard back from Judy since the train terminal two days earlier, making a mental note to check in on her later in the evening. "I really should see how they're doing. I hope it's going better than things are here." Dawn said with a dull chuckle.

"Aw c'mon, don't be like dat sis." Ada reached over, giving Dawn's arm a playful poke with a claw. "Rememba da old sayin', it could always be woise!" Ada offered a reassuring smirk.

"Besides, you have us on your side." Vanna placed a paw on Dawn's shoulder, squeezing slightly.

"Although your friend bein' a rabbit probably mean she's got way more sisters." Malcolm said with a laugh, drawing a giggle out of Dawn.

"Over one hundred actually." Dawn shook her head dismissively. "I've heard family weddings are a real mess."

"Hey!" Qali chirped, drawing the groups attention back to her. The tiny fox was pouting slightly as she glared back at the group. "I'm trying to tell a story."

Ada chuckled loudly. "Alright Pipsqueak, sorry." The large hyeness waved a paw in the fox's direction. "Go on, go on, dere was a fair and den...?"

Qali let out a soft huff before flopping back down on Vanna's leg, drawing a grumble from the tigress. Qali leaned a paw against her cheek as she took a slow, deep breath.

"Well, see..." Qali trailed off, rolling her eyes as she seemed to be recalling the memory from the depths of what Dawn could only assume was an extremely active and scatterbrained mind. "We had been having a problem with someone stealing trees from the property at night." The fox quickly drawing a paw horizontally in front of her, making a 'chop' motion. "Loppin' them down and sneaking them out without so much as a footprint left behind." Qali raised a paw and shrugged.

"So my Pop called the Troopers out to investigate, because he was pretty sure the culprit wasn't a local." Qali said.

"Why did he tink dat?" Ada asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Our family is the only ones out in Fox's Glen who are experts when it comes to cutting trees, and whoever was stealin' them was a pro cutter." Qali held out her paws. "It turned out it was these two Lion Brothers from Tsavo farms a few towns over, one of our competitors." Qali rolled her eyes lazily. "But that's not the point of the story, the point is that when the trooper came out, that's when I first met Trenny."

Dawn scrunched her muzzle up in confusion. "Wait, I thought Trenton didn't become a Trooper until very recently." The ewe scratched her chin. "At least that's what Vernon had told me."

Qali gave a brisk nod. "Yeah, he was still studying at the time." The fox raised a paw. "But while he was in school, he participated in a few ride-alongs." Qali wiggled her paw back and forth. "You know, where a friend or officer in training can ride with a cop to see what it is like to be on duty?"

Dawn nodded, she had heard of Nick and Judy participating in a few during their years in the precinct. Most of the ride-alongs she had heard about featured Judy's siblings, most of them very young and eager to see how 'cool' being a cop was only to be disappointed by a series of very slow afternoons. Although she had heard that Nick had taken his own Mother on one. Apparently, the older vixen wouldn't take no for an answer when the opportunity arose to see her son in action on his first legitimate job.

"Anywho, that's where we met." Qali mused, letting out an affectionate sigh as she rested her head in her paws. "I can still remember when I first laid eyes on that tall drink of water." Qali's eyes seemed to shimmer. "His gleaming white fur shining in the sun as he stepped out of the car, and those piercing baby blue eyes of his. Mhh-Mhh!" The fox clasped her paws together, letting out a squee as she fawned over the mental image of her mate. "I knew I had to get to know him right away, I needed that wolf in my life!"

Dawn raised an eyebrow curiously. "So, you fell in love the moment you first saw him?"

Qali giggled, shaking her head with a terse no. "Oh no, no, no." Qali grinned mischievously. "I just wanted to take a bite out of his tight little butt at that point."

Dawn felt a harsh blush creep onto her muzzle, and she quickly clasped her hooves over her face to cover it up. Glancing up at Vanna, the tigress seemed to be holding together better than she was. Her face remained mostly expressionless, however, the ewe could see the hint of red just below the surface of her fur.

Qali's giggling trailed off into another soft, pleasant sigh as she eased her head back into her paws. "No, that was around Yule when I figured out we were going to be more than just a 'fling'."

Qali cocked her ears, raising her head off her paw and allowing it to bob lightly as she kept her attention on the other girls.

"You see, my sister Matsa was overseas at the time. She was staying with our Grandmother while taking classes over at the 'PranchSchool of Fine Arts' or whatever..." Qali rolled her eyes, waving her paw more dismissively than before. "So we were a little understaffed." Qali rested her head back against her paw, raising her eyebrows before flicking her fingers with her other paw. "Not that that was a problem between me, Pop and Auniq, we could tackle the field easy."

Qali rolled her eyes slightly as she winced. "We would have been cutting it close to the season, but we could have just made it."

"Could?" Dawn asked, picking up on the arctic fox's uncertainty in her phrasing. Qali grimaced sharply, her ears sagging flat against her head as she let out a sigh.

"We had about a week left to finish the last of the trees in the field..." The fox trailed off as her frown deepened. "When Dad threw his back out."

The group let out a collective hiss of mock pain, Dawn gritting her teeth as she tried to imagine just what such a condition might feel like. Vanna had already begun to rub her own back as if she were afflicted with memories of a back injury of her own.

"Poor Dad." Qali sighed. "He could barely even get out of bed, he was practically crippled from the strain."

"Youch." Ada said, the hyeness bearing a tight grimace of her own. "What didja do?"

"Well, Dad couldn't help us anymore at that point." Qali raised a paw. "The local doc said he was going to be recovering for at least a month and a half." Qali leaned her head back into her paws as she idly kicked her legs. "So needless to say he wasn't going to be helping us trim or sell trees for the rest of the season. And without him, there was no way we were going to have the field prepared in time."

"And I take it that's where Trenton came in?" Malcolm asked. The chubby wolf was now laying on his stomach, his attention fixed on the small white fox as she gave a brisk and enthusiastic nod.

"Once Trenny heard we needed help, he was eager to volunteer himself to fill in for Pa." Qali flashed the girls a wide grin. " His school was close by, so it wasn't a long trip for him to make when it came to helping out. It was just a matter of finding time around his classes to help with the trimming." Qali placed a paw over her muzzle as she began to giggle. "He was so hard to train, especially with how little time we had." Qali rolled over, leaning her head back as she stared at the group from upside down. "The first tree I set him up to work on unsupervised, he ended up chopping it down to a stump!" Qali kicked her legs as another giggle fit came on. The little fox rolling slightly from side to side as she clasped her paws over her muzzle.

"How da heck did he manage dat?" Ada raised an eyebrow as she leaned on her side, eyeing the fox curiously.

"H-he just kept t-taking too much off one side, and then t-tried to even it out on the other only to do it again." Qali stuttered between giggling.

"Just kept makin' it worse huh?" Malcolm chuckled.

"He was so upset with himself over it." Qali's giggling trailed off into a soft, relieved sigh "It was the cutest thing. Poor guy was trying his hardest out there."

"So I take it he eventually improved?" Dawn asked.

"Eder dat, or he ended up payin' for da ruined trees." Ada said with a chuckle.

"He eventually got the hang of it." Qali smirked as she returned to her position lounging on Vanna's thigh. The fox now leaning her face against her paw. "Before I knew it he was trimming trees like a pro. He was almost as good as me by the end of it." Qali raised her eyebrows playfully. " Well, almost."

"Alright, alright we get it." Ada chuckled. "Youse are super good at cuttin' trees. Now can you get to da point?" The hyena crossed her arms.

Qali let out another giggle, raising a paw up toward the hyena defensively. "Okay, okay. Calm down Chuckles." Qali shook her head dismissively. "You were the one who asked in the first place."

Ada sneered slightly at the diminutive fox. "Only because you were-!" Ada shook her head, letting out a derisive snort. "Just get on wit it already!"

Qali placed her other paw on the side of her face, now leaning on both of her paws as she faced the group. "Alright, so it was the last day before the farm was supposed to open right?"

Dawn nodded for the fox to continue. Out of the corner of her eye, she could she Vanna had more or less done the same.

"Between Trenny, my sis, and me we had been working to the point of passing out." Qali said, taking a moment to blow the drooping coif of fur out of her eye. "But we were cutting it so close we really had to hit it hard. We still had one field to go and it was about two hours until sundown."

"You couldn't cut them after sunset?" Dawn asked.

Qali decisively shook her head no. "Despite a fox's keen sense of night vision, the change in lighting tends to lead to us making more mistakes." Qali shrugged. "And on top of that we were all exhausted by that point. Even I could have ended up trimming a stump like Trenny under those conditions." The fox said with a giggle.

"So I'm practically fallin' asleep standing up by the time were half-way through the field." The vixens head dipped slightly as she began to pantomime just how exhausted she had been. "The last thing I remembered was Trenny askin' me if I was feeling okay, and then pomf!" The vixen slapped a balled paw into the other.

"Pomf?" Dawn asked, slightly confused by what the diminutive fox was implying with her strange turn of phrase.

"I must have konked out." Qali shook her head. "I was so tired I just passed out in the field."

Ada let out a hyena-like cackle. "Whadda youse a narcoleptic? You got some of dat goat gene in yas?"

Qali let out another giggle. "No, no, I'm no fainting goat!" The fox replied, covering her muzzle with a paw.  "I was just so tired I couldn't help it. Heck, we all were."

"So you passed out? What happened next?" Dawn asked, leaning in slightly as her interest peaked.

"Next thing I knew, I woke up back in the house." Qali shrugged. "I was on the living room couch, wrapped up tightly in a blanket with a mug of hot cocoa sitting on the coffee table in front of me." Qali brushed her hair free of her eye, only for it to slip right back into place. "It was night by then."

"Wait so, how did ya'll get back?" Malcolm asked.

"And where did the cocoa come from?" Dawn added, quirking an eyebrow curiously.

"Well..."Qali trailed off slightly, a warm smile crawling across her muzzle. "That's when I heard my sis let out a laugh." Qali's head lolled lazily on the balls of her paws. "She was sittin' on the armchair across from me, wrapped up in a blanket of her own. She thought I was never gonna wake up with how out of it I was." Qali gestured a paw lazily toward the other girls. "So the first thing I asked her is 'what happened?'"

"And what did happen?" Vanna asked.

Qali chuckled. "She pointed a paw next to me, and when I looked up I saw Trenny." Qali let out a warm and pleasant sigh as she leaned more onto her paws. "The poor lug was passed out, his muzzle pointed up to the ceiling as he was just snorin' away, and one of his arms was draped around me and I hadn't even noticed." Qali smiled widely. "Turns out, when I passed out Trenny hoisted me over his shoulder and finished my trees before taking me back to the house." Qali's arms slipped out from beneath her head, bringing her face against Vanna's leg as she let out another, more romantic sigh. "He took the time to wrap me up in my favorite blanket, and make me some nice hot cocoa before finally passing out himself."

The diminutive fox stretched her arms out, her tail lazily flopping from side to side as she let out a pleased grunt. "Looking up at his big goofy muzzle as I sipped the cocoa he made for me, I just knew." Qali sighed warmly. "Even if we had only been together for about two months, I knew I was in love with the big guy." Qali chuckled. "I was ensnared by that handsome Snowdrift, and I knew I was going to be in it for the long haul, even if he wasn't sure of it yet."

"Aww..." That had come from Malcolm. The chubby wolf had clasped his paws together, leaning them against his was as he cooed warmly. "Ain't that just the sweetest thang."

"Yes, that was a lovely story." Dawn added as she adjusted her glasses. "It's also nice to know I'm not the only one here who fell in love with their mate so quickly."

Qali practically beamed at Dawn's words, giving the ewe a playful swat on the arm as she giggled. "Clearly we know good fellas when we see them, eh Puffy?"

"Ugh, Puffy?" Ada scoffed. "That sounds like da symptom of an illness, we can't use dat one."

Qali frowned, her ears sagging as she eyed Dawn apologetically. "Oh geez, you're right. I wasn't thinking." Qali sighed.

Dawn chuckled, giving the vixen a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "It's all right Qali. No offense taken."

"Y'know..." That had come from Malcolm. The large, chubby red wolf rose to his feet, making his way toward Vanna's bed. With a brief waiving of his paws, he gestured for Qali to move before joining the rest of the group on Vanna's bed. Leaning on his stomach, the russet wolf leaned a paw against his cheek. "Your story kinda reminds of my own." Malcolm smirked. "The day I realized I loved my lil' Xavey somethin' fierce."

Qali let out another giggle, before sweeping a broad paw toward the rest of the group in a grand gesture. "Well then, by all means." Qali smirked. "The floor is open."

Malcolm let out a comfortable sigh, smacking his lips together appreciatively before drifting lazily into his own tale.

"Welp, ya'll probably know I run a diner out in San Francisgoat." Malcolm said with a nod. "Ain't the fanciest place in the world, but it's popular enough."

"I remember you mentioned a diner." Dawn said, tapping a hoof to her chin.

Malcolm flashed the ewe a smug smirk. "You might also remember how I told ya'll that Xavey can't cook worth a damn." The russet wolf chuckled heartily. "In fact, that's more or less how we met."

Malcolm let out a pleasant hum as he rolled to his side, idly scratching his stomach with a free paw as he leaned his head against the other. "Not bein' able to cook meant Xavey was forced to dine out every day, from breakfast to dinner." Malcolm smiled warmly. "And one day he finally stumbled on my humble little establishment, and welp...he never left!" Malcolm said with a laugh.

Malcolm gave Qali a playful nudge with his elbow." He came fer the food, and stayed fer the 'excellent service'" The wolf bobbed his eyebrows suggestively, drawing a fit of giggling from the tiny fox.

"But in all honesty, once he started coming to my place, he never ate anywhere else." Malcolm rolled his eyes slightly, letting out a dreamy sigh as he tapped his fingers against his muzzle. "And seein' that handsome hunk every day just made me pine fer him more and more."

"Did you ask him out?" Dawn asked.

"Eventually." Malcolm winced, drawing a paw behind his head as he looked away from the ewe. "It took me a while to sorta...muster the courage to ask him if he was interested." The red wolf bobbed his head back and forth slightly. "I mean, I wasn't even sure he...played fer my team so to speak."

"Really?" Ada grinned smugly. "You couldn't figure out dat prissy wolf was inta boys?" The hyeness let out a laugh. "Rut me, he's da only mammal I know who puts a napkin on his lap before a meal!"

"Polite and sophisticated fellas do that too." Malcolm chided, waving a finger lamely at the hyeness. "'Sides, San Fran is fulla business mammals with cleanliness issues Darlin', they ain't all gay."

"Dat's not what I hoid." Ada retorted, her grin widening as she eyed the wolf. At that point, Malcolm let out a scoff.

"Anywho..." The wolf rolled his eyes as he tried to change the subject. "Eventually I did ask him out, and he said yes much to my delight!" Malcolm's lids hung low, a grin crawling across his muzzle. "As long as I was cookin' that is." The wolf sniggered.

"Sounds like he was already in love with you by then." Dawn said with a giggle. "Or at the very least, your food."

Malcolm nodded, joining the ewe with a hearty chuckle of his own. "Ain't a clean win, but I was happy to take it just to get into that handsome hunk of wolf's life." The red wolf said with a wink. "And once I had my in, he fell just as much in love with me as he did with my culinary skill!"

"But that begs the question..." Vanna asked, drawing the attention to the large tigress. Her eyebrow raised slightly as she eyed the chubby wolf inquisitively. "When did you fall in love with him?"

Malcolm let out a warm sigh as he rolled back onto his stomach, resting his head on his paws as he returned his gaze to the group at large.

"I'd say it was about..." The wolf trailed off, tapping a claw to his chin thoughtfully. "Maybe eight months in?" The wolf nodded briskly. "Yep, about eight months. We were still livin' separately then, that's how I know." The wolf continued to nod.

"I had gotten sick with a terrible flu." The wolf furrowed his brow, letting out a slightly annoyed huff." Sneezin', hackin' and coughin', the whole messy thang." Malcolm waved a paw dismissively as he prattled off the symptoms. "It knocked me right off my feet, ran me through the damn wringer."

"Oh my." Dawn uttered, placing a hoof to her muzzle. "That sounds awful."

"Darn right." Macolm replied, balling a paw into a fist and swinging it slightly in emphasis. "Worst two weeks of my life I'd reckon."

"That must have really hurt your business." Dawn added. "Not being able to work for two weeks."

Malcolm shook his head softly. "Thankfully the diner is big enough that I got more than enough staff around to cover fer me." The wolf shrugged. "O'course when customers see the head chef ain't workin', it certainly doesn't do all that well for sales." Malcolm rolled his eyes slightly, offering a playful smirk to the group. "Let's just say 'Malcolm's Eats' ain't nothin' without Malcolm." The wolf chuckled as he pointed a thumb at himself.

"Alright, enough boastin' Buddabuns." Ada snickered. "Dere was a point to dis story, rememba?"

Malcolm smirked, shaking his head in amusement."  Fine, fine..." The red wolf chuckled quietly.

" So the point bein' I was real, real sick." The husky canine continued. "And Xavey, well, naturally he was frettin' somethin' feirce." Malcolm grinned widely. "When I told him about how lousy I was feelin' over the phone he rushed over right after work with two suitcases full of his clothes and a buncha cold remedies from the pharmacy." Malcolm leaned his chin on a paw as his smile grew deeper, and the wolf let out a warm sigh. "He was tellin' me how he wasn't leavin' until I was fit as a fiddle again. And until then he'd be waitin' on me paw and foot." Malcolm began to laugh heartily. "He was going to be 'Mr. Super Boyfriend'!" The wolf puffed his chest up proudly as he aped Xavier's general posture. "I won't stand to let you want for anything while I'm taking care of you!'" The wolf laughed as he slipped back into his natural drawling tone. " That's what my Fluffybuns said."

"Aww..." Qali cooed, the fox now facing Malcolm. The arctic fox was sitting upright, her legs folded neatly as she pressed her paws against her muscle.

"And he was true to his word." Malcolm paused, biting his lip as his muzzle began to twist into a wince. "Well, that was until he tried to make me some old-fashioned chicken soup."

"Chicken huh?" Ada raised an eyebrow curiously. " I thought Francisgoat was too...progressive to let ya cook wit what most prey see as pets?"

Malcolm leaned a paw against his hip, furrowing his brow. "It ain't illegal, just frowned upon among city folk." The wolf grinned. " And my restaurant is one of the few places that offer fresh fowl, so there ain't no shortage of stock at the Hackett house."

Dawn suppressed the slight feeling of nausea at the sheer notion of chickens being used as a source of meat. Like Ada had noted, most prey had come to see them as pets, as well as a steady supply for eggs when it came to the basic building blocks of most recipes. And despite the fact that most urban predators had long since worked fowl out of their diet aside from the eggs they laid, rural preds still commonly ate chicken and various other types of birds. From what Vernon had told her during their time together, his family rarely used chickens other than as a source of eggs for his Mother's pies. But occasionally they prepared a chicken or turkey for a family get together or holiday, and the wolf would seek out a restaurant that served chicken to get a fix from time to time. Although the wolf never brought any back to their shared apartment. It was something Dawn had come to accept when it came to the cultural gap between their respective species, but no matter how much time had past her repulsion at the thought of chicken being consumed never seemed to grow any weaker. It was much the same as how Vernon would often recoil when the ewe offered him a bite of one of her Turf Tart breakfast pastries.

"So he wouldn't cook for you then?" Dawn asked, trying to move away from her internal cultural distaste.

Malcolm let out a loud chuckle, giving his knee a slap. "Wouldn't?" Malcolm shook his head sharply. "The problem was he wouldn't stop cookin'!"

Dawn muzzle twisted in confusion, but only for a moment as she recalled something Malcolm had mentioned earlier. The playful yet disparaging nickname the red wolf had dubbed his mate in response to his pitiful attempts at cooking.

"The Anti-crust?" Dawn murmured softly.

Malcolm let out a hearty laugh as he gave the ewe an affirmative nod. "The Anti-crust struck again and again as pot after pot of soup was burned off, er' boiled to tastelessness, or just burstin' into flame!" Malcolm placed a paw over his muzzle as he tried to stifle his laughter.

Vanna quirked an eyebrow curiously. "Soup doesn't burst into flame."

Malcolm gave another hearty chuckle. "It does when someone mistakes a bottle of my wine with cooking oil." The russet wolf snickered.

"O-one batch he, he even forgot to pluck the feathers outta the damn bird!" The wolf sputtered. "I-It looked like someone was given' a moltin' bird a hot bath by the end of it!"

By now Ada was cackling along with the wolf, seemingly tickled pink over Xavier's terrible cooking disasters. Her hyena laugh nearly drowning out Malcolm's own.

"H-Hell..." Malcolm continued to laugh. "The f-first batch Xavey put the noodles in after he was done cookin'!" Malcolm's muzzle had grown red as the wolf continued to wheeze out his story. "Th-thought they were supposed to just soften as soon as they hit broth!"

By now the other girls had joined in laughing with the hysterical wolf, all of them aside from Dawn who's own laughter was weak and timid by comparison. She was merely trying to laugh along, despite not being able to share in something she assumed was more of a predator problem when it came to cooking.

"By the gods, when I crunched down on the first spoonful I nearly threw up on the spot!" The wolf shuddered slightly as his laughter began to trail off.

"Ahhh...." Malcolm sighed, wiping a stray tear from the corner of his eye as the other girl's laughter began to fade. "It was the saddest thing ya'll could ever see. Not a single batch was fit to eat."

"Musta been a lot of wasted boid." Ada said with a chuckle.

Malcolm gave a soft, affirming nod. "I can't tell ya'll how much he had to dump down the drain." The red wolf gave a mournful sigh. " And each failed batch just broke Xavey up more and more."

"He was upset huh?" Vanna asked.

Malcolm shook his head. "He was tryin' to hide it, but I could tell every mess up was eatin' at him somethin' awful." The wolf frowned. "I tried to get him to stop, to try to calm him down and tell him it wasn't that important. But with him flyin' in and out of the room constantly, and me bein' bedridden and all, my pleas were fallen on deaf ears." Malcolm shook his head sadly.

"So what did you do?" Qali asked, her tail swishing idly as she listened to the wolf intently.

"At some point I lost track of all the batches he made, what with bein' in and out of sleepin and all." Malcolm scratched his chin idly. "But I remember the last batch he made was real slimy and luke-warm. And when I couldn't bring myself to eat any of it poor Xavey just completely broke down." Malcolm's sullen frown seemed to deepen as he recalled the memory.

"He just slumped down against the bed, graspin' on one of my paws and cryin' up a storm." The red wolf continued. "Sayin' he 'was the worst boyfriend ever' and how 'what kind of mammal can't take care of their mate when they're sick' and all."  Malcolm sighed. "He was a blubberin' mess, so unlike his usually composed and stoic self. All because he couldn't cook me a dang meal. He was that upset over it."

At that point a warm smile crawled across Malcolm's muzzle, the russet wolf's eyes twinkling slightly with the gleam of burgeoning tears.

"He wanted nuthin' more than to just take care of me. And not bein' able to cook was like he was failin' at that." The wolf let out an amorous sigh. " And it was something he just wasn't willin' to accept. He had to do right by me in his mind, even if he burned down the kitchen in the process."

"And that's when you knew?" Vanna asked, raising an eyebrow.

The wolf gave an affirmative nod.

"I grabbed my Fluffybuns by the collar, and gave him a smooch on the cheek." Malcolm said, leaning his head on his paw with a goofy grin on his face. "And then I looked him right in the eyes and said, 'Darlin' you ain't me, and I ain't askin' you to be!' " The wolf chuckled. "'I like you fer bein' you, and just havin' you here is helpin' me feel better Xavey.'" Malcolm continued. "So sit yer butt down, curl up and watch some movies with me, and we can just order in some damn soup!" Malcolm laughed.

Dawn smiled as the other girls laughed along with the husky wolf. Despite the smattering of humor in the wolf's retelling, the story really tugged at Dawn's heartstrings. The ewe found herself slightly envious in that moment, only because the last time she had been seriously ill was during her time in prison. Even though she had Polaraski to help her through it, and a cell all to herself, it was still a nightmare to suffer so in a place like that with no mate of her own to truly care for her. She wished she had been with Vernon back then. Of course, she also wished she hadn't been in prison either. But even so, it was all in the past now. And now that her devoted Puppy was by her side, she imagined she'd never have to suffer through another flu without him to dote over her as Xavier had with Malcolm.

A sudden, light nudge drew the ewe from her quiet self-reflection. And the ewe looked up to find Vanna smirking down at her. It was clear the tigress had noted the ewe's lack of laughter, and was playfully checking to see if she was alright. The ewe responded with a giggle as she nudged the large tigress back. It didn't do much to move the stone wall that was the massive tigress, but it was enough to draw a wider grin from the feline.

"That was a lovely story Malcolm." Dawn said, adjusting her glasses slightly as she returned her focus to the chubby wolf. "I trust Xavier listened to you?"

Malcolm smirked. "He smiled, then sat his butt right down and snuggled up to me. And that's how we spent pretty much the rest of my recovery." The wolf shrugged. "I mean, he did have to go to work o'course, but he always came home with a heapin' bag of soup from the local Pandese place and some new movie rentals." Malcolm let out a pleasant sigh. "Despite feelin' like death, it was probably the most fun I've ever had in mah life."

"At least he listened." Vanna chuckled. "With Zach, getting him to sit down and actually hear me can be a chore sometimes." Vanna rolled her eyes. "Especially when we were first partnered up."

"Doesn't help dat you ain't big on talkin' in da foist place Kit Kat!" Ada said with a laugh.

Vanna furrowed her brow at the hyeness, shaking her head dismissively. Dawn however, was immediately drawn in, tugging slightly at the tigress' pajama shirt to get her attention.

"Speaking of..." Dawn trailed off slightly. "You are the only one who hasn't shared their story." Dawn rolled her eyes slightly, trying to hide her excitement at the prospect of learning more about the enigmatic tigress' love life. "I have to admit, I'm dying to know exactly when you figured out that you loved Zach."

Vanna chuckled quietly, glancing around briefly at the rest of the group. Out of the corner of Dawn's eye, she could see the others leaning in expectantly, clearly as eager as she was to hear the tale. Even Ada seemed rather curious, her usual smug expression now one of heightened interest.

Vanna crossed her arms, leaning back against her pillow as she appraised the group around her. The large tigress smirked.

"Our relationship was more of a slow burn to be honest." Vanna glanced at Dawn, giving the ewe a slight nod. " Sort of like with you and Vernon Dawn, I said as much earlier."

"I remember." Dawn affirmed with a nod, still eagerly focused on the tigress as she began her tale.

"I had never thought about dating outside of my species before." Vanna continued. "And when I got brought on to the North Meadowland's Police Department, my first impression of Zach certainly didn't do anything to feed into that sort of mindset."

"It was bad den?" Ada asked.

Vanna sighed, shaking her head dismissively. "I had transferred to the Meadowlands seeking a more quiet life, something to help me soften up and develop less of a..." Vanna winced slightly, her voice growing quiet. "Intimidating personality."

"Woiked like a charm." Ada said snarkily, earning a giggle from Qali and a soft huff from the large tigress.

"So when I found out I was essentially going to be playing babysitter to what I assumed was a dumb wolf who's Father had gotten him his position at the station, I was...less than ecstatic." Vanna frowned. "And needless to say, Zach was far from pleased with the arrangement himself." Vanna chuckled. "And he was certainly more vocal about it than I was."

Dawn was quiet as the term 'babysitter' left Vanna's lips, the tigress inadvertently touching on what Dorian had mentioned earlier in his screed aimed at the ewe. Zach's near-death experience, and Vanna's subsequent forced partnership caused by the painful echo of the ewe's actions. She wondered for a moment if the feline knew exactly what had happened before she arrived. Surely by now she and Zach had discussed it, and yet Vanna hadn't brought it up in her earlier talks with Dawn about what drove her away from Zootopia. Perhaps she didn't see the connection to Dawn like Zach hadn't before Dorian had talked to him. Or perhaps she had made her decision on it already when she had chosen to embrace the ewe as her sister. Even so, Dawn knew she couldn't bring it up now lest she be forced to reveal her private talk with Dorian, and his hate-filled words. Dawn could feel her stomach turn slightly, and the ewe did her best to shake the thoughts away.

"Don't tell me he was chewin' you out?" Malcolm asked.

Vanna bobbed her head slightly. "Mostly snarky comments, I imagine most of his complaints were saved for the privacy of the Hunter Ranch post shift." Vanna winced slightly. "I had heard as much from Dorian after the fact."

"So youse two hated each udder's guts den?" Ada chuckled. "Not da best way to start a relationship."

Vanna chuckled a deep, thrumming laugh. "I wouldn't say we hated each other, but we certainly weren't friends." Vanna rolled her eyes. "Zach saw me as what I thought I was, a babysitter who would only get in the way of his police work. And I saw him as a spoiled, nepotistic hire who told terrible jokes and made stupid calls."

"Ouch." Qali said with a pout. "That's blunt."

"Dat's Vanna." Ada said with a grin.

"Naturally it took us a while of working together to grow to understand each other. For me to see the good cop in Zach, to see in him what had earned him his place on the force regardless of Papa Hunter's position." Vanna scratched the back of her head awkwardly. " And for Zach to start chipping away at my inflexible attitude and cold personality."

"You sure he really did?" Ada asked with a grin. "Cause I can't reall-"

Vanna held up a paw in the hyeness' direction to stop her.

"Do you want me to open up or not?" Vanna scoffed. "Because you aren't helping."

Dawn glanced at Ada just in time to see a small pillow slap against her head, causing her to flinch.

"SHHH!" Qali hissed, scowling slightly at the dazed hyena. "I want to hear this!"

Ada sneered, grabbing the small pillow that struck her and hucking it back toward the diminutive fox missing her by inches.

"Alright, geez Snowball!" Ada growled. "Chill out!"

"Are you done?" Vanna asked, sweeping her gaze across the group. Dawn watched as the other Hunter girls gave a meek affirmative nod before joining in with her own.

"By about six months in we were friends more or less..." Vanna said, a warm smirk crossing her muzzle. "And coming up on a year I was starting to...well...feel things." Vanna raised a paw to her mouth, biting down gently on a finger as she looked away from the group. "Confusing, romantic feelings."

Dawn smiled knowingly, remembering her own burgeoning feelings for Vernon and the struggle to make sense of them. It seemed more than any of the other sisters, that Vanna and she had more or less been through the same experience when it came to confronting their feelings.

"Of course, I had no idea if Zach felt anything like that for me." Vanna sighed. " I mean, we were officers of the law, supposed to be married to the job above all else. Wanting that sort of relationship would have been highly unprofessional."

Vanna chuckled, shaking her head softly. "And I was supposed to be the professional one." The tigress mumbled.

"I don't tink dere's any rule about datin' your co-woikers and bein a cop." Ada shrugged. "Least dats how it is at Yuri's precinct."

"Well there was in Zootopia." Vanna sighed, placing a paw to her head. "And aside from that, I was an entirely different species. I wasn't some petite she-wolf that could bury herself in his chest and snuggle. I was nearly two feet taller than he was."

"Wait..." Dawn paused. "O-officers can't date each other in Zootopia?"

Vanna simply shook her head 'no'.

Dawn bit her lip slightly as she thought back to Judy and Nick, worrying for a moment if they were aware such a rule was in place.

"So how did you find out he felt the same?" Qali piped up, pulling Dawn away from her thoughts. "Did you have to drag it out of him?" The fox bounced on her paws slightly as she awaited Vanna's response. The large tigress simply chuckled, looking away from the group as she let out a wistful sigh.

"When I was growing up, some of my favorite memories of life back in San Furnando was spending lazy Summer evening catching fireflies in the park." Vanna smiled, a nostalgic twinkle shining behind her eyes as she stared off and away. It was as if the tigress was looking at a scene the others could't see, a warm memory playing before her eyes as she continued. "I would catch them in jars, and watch them flicker in the dark of my bedroom until I drifted off to sleep."

Vanna let out a pleasant chuffing. "Come the morning, I would release them just to catch a fresh bunch the next night. I found them so fascinating and wonderful." The tigress cooed. Unlike her usual flat and stoic tone, Vanna's voice had become filled with warmth. It had a soothing sweetness to it that dawn had yet to hear the tigress speak in, and until now, wasn't sure she could even produce.

"My room was filled with firefly related trinkets and pictures during most of my teenage years. They were in essence, my favorite insect in the whole world, and they still are."

"Well that sounds lovely." Malcolm said. "But if you'll beg my pardon, what does that have to do with knowin' Zach loved you back?"

Vanna smiled warmly, letting out an affectionate sigh.

"At some point I had mentioned as much to Zach during one of our patrols." Vanna said, placing a paw to her lip. "It was just idle conversation, something I said and forgot about for the longest time. I didn't even remember mentioning it to him when..." Vanna trailed off.

"When what?" Dawn asked eagerly, her focus now unflinchingly trained on the wistful tigress.

"It was the end of our shift." Vanna spoke, her voice remaining as smooth as velvet. "We were supposed to head back to the station and clock out for the day, it was our usual routine." Vanna shrugged. "It was usually boring, uneventful, and practically second nature to us by then."

Vanna's eyes developed that familiar nostalgic twinkle again as she stared off toward the bedroom ceiling.

"But that warm August night, Zach said he had to make a pit stop before we clocked out." Vanna sighed. "It was unusual, yes. But it didn't strike me as something to be suspicious about."

"So what was the pit stop for?" Qali asked, her ears perking up as she leaned closer to the tigress.

Vanna's chuffing returned as the tigress ran a paw over her throat.

"I-I started to get curious when he seemed to be taking us out to the middle of nowhere." Vanna raised an eyebrow. "I mean, the both of us knew the roads around the Meadowlands by this point, so at a certain point I became acutely aware that we were on a dead-end road that lead nowhere."

"Ah, I see!" Ada piped up. "Takin' you somewhere secluded so he could put the moves on ya!" The hyeness cackled. "What a nautty boy!"

"Please, Vanna could break that boy in half if he tried to pull anythin' uncouth." Malcolm chuckled. "Unless she was hopin' he would." Malcolm raised an eyebrow suggestively at the tigress, causing Vanna to develop a fierce blush in response.

"H-he was a gentlemam'!" Vanna stuttered slightly as she clasped her paws to her muzzle in an effort to hide her blush. "Just like you'd expect from a Hunter."

"So then, what did he do?" Dawn asked curiously.

The thrum of Vanna's unusual chuffing grew louder as the tigress' smile widened. "We had pulled up to this wide, empty meadow when Zach stopped the car and turned off the ignition." Vanna said. " I was going to finally ask him what this was all about when he shut the headlights down and I finally saw them."

"Saw what!?" Qali chirped, the fox now standing on the bed, clasping her paws at Vanna's shirt excitedly.

"Fireflies..." Vanna said wistfully. "Thousands and thousands of them."

Qali squee'd in delight, rolling back onto the bed as she released her grip on Vanna's PJ's. "No!" Qali barked.

Vanna nodded softly." The meadow was full of them." Vanna sighed. " And not only that, but they were floating in the air all around the car." The tigress placed a paw over her muzzle, seemingly trying to hide her ever-widening grin from the rest of the girls. "It was as if were surrounded by a sea of flickering candles, dancing in the evening sky."

The large tigress glanced down at the rest of the girls, flashing them a sheepish grin. "He remembered everything, every little detail of the stories I had told him about my childhood, about the fireflies I had become so enamored with growing up." Vanna cooed. "It was why he had went out of his way to pick that meadow as his backdrop when he finally confessed his feelings for me. Because he wanted me to know how much I had come to mean to him, and that he wanted to see if I shared his feelings." Vanna smiled. "If I had grown to feel the same way about him, if I could love a wolf."

"Aww...." Qali cooed sweetly. The fox had returned to laying on her stomach, leaning her head on her paws as she stared up at Vanna in admiration.

"How did you react?" Malcolm asked, his invested interest causing him to lean closer. "How's ya'll tell him?"

Vanna placed her paws on her muzzle, blushing bashfully as she looked away from the sea of focused eyes now fixated on her.

"I-I..." Vanna murmured. "I wrapped my arms around him, and pulled him into a really hard kiss."

Vanna covered her eyes despite her widening smile as the collective laughter and giggling of the Hunter girls filled the room. Even Dawn found herself giddy with laughter at just how adorable Vanna's silent confession had been. No matter how many times Dawn's mind repeated the words the tigress had said, the ewe still found it hard to picture the large feline being so passionate and emotional. Yet watching her now, seemingly starting to swoon as she recalled her treasured romantic memories, it was almost as if the ewe was staring at an entirely different mammal. One she had just barely caught a glimpse of the night before during their karaoke session. A strangely soft, mushy big cat with the heart of a smitten young girl. A tigress without claws, without teeth, her defenses drawn back by thoughts of the one she loved. The one mammal who saw her for who she truly was, just as Vernon had seen the ewe.

"I take it he liked that..." Malcolm wheezed between laughs.

Vanna nodded briskly. "He certainly was eager to return my kiss with equal fervor."

"And did you guys...?" Qali trailed off, her eyebrows bouncing up and down suggestively.

Crimson returned to Vanna's muzzle as her paw returned to her lips in a poor attempt at covering her nervous smile.

"N-No!" Vanna protested. "I-It took us a while to work up to that." The tigress bit at her claws slightly. "W-we wanted to take it slow, to make sure we knew it was right."

"But you already knew it was, didn't you?" Dawn asked, a knowing grin crossing her muzzle. Vanna kept her paw over her mouth, and simply extended her left paw out to the ewe. As the open face of her pad came into Dawn's line of sight, the ewe immediately noticed the crimson contrast of the strange half moon marking against the pinkish flesh. It was one the lamb recognized from her studies in regards to Norwulves, and their history regarding tithing rights. The modern seal of the sacred mating contract, one half of the whole, the other she was certain Zach carried on his opposite paw.

"In that moment, that kiss, I knew he was the one." Vanna sighed pleasantly. "Waiting was more of...a formality I guess. To feel out how Ma and Pa felt about us, to try not to scare them."

By now Qali, Ada, and Malcolm had all leaned in around Dawn, all of them staring at the tigress' exposed palm in awe. Qali was quick to grasp at her large paw, clutching it tightly as she stared up at the feline.

"I-Is this?" Qali asked, seemingly too awe-stricken to finish her sentence.

Vanna nodded softly in response, her wide smile practically beaming.

"The ceremony was in August, in the same meadow that Zach and I had confessed to one another how we felt. Surrounded by the fireflies that had sealed our fates just years before." Vanna let out a nostalgic and wistful breath. "I will always remember that evening as one of the happiest of my entire life."

"I rememba." Ada chuckled softly. "You was shakin' like a leaf when they had to do dat tattoo." The hyeness grinned. " I remember bein' shocked such a big kitty was so afraid of a little needle."

Vanna scoffed. "I'd never gotten a tattoo of any kind before. It's not exactly something those of us with fur tend to do."

"You looked great dough." Ada offered a warm smile. "You was glowin' sis."

Vanna's blush returned, the tigress placing her free paw over her muzzle.

"T-thanks." Vanna sputtered, clearly embarrassed at the surprise compliment.

"Make me wish Yuri would Alpha up and ask me already." Ada said with a sigh. "He's kept me waitin' long enough."

That earned a deep chuckle from Malcolm. "Good luck Darlin'."

"I hope he does." Vanna said softly, her eyes shimmering as she turned her attention to the hyeness. "I may not be a fan of my Brother-in-law, but I want you to be as happy as I was when I got this mark."

With that, Vanna turned her attention back to the group at large. "And that goes for all of my sisters." The large feline offered the group a warm smile.

Dawn felt another nudge, looking up from Vanna's palm to find her staring back down at her. Vanna flashed her teeth. " Especially you Dawn."

"Hey, why her?" Qali pouted.

"Because she's my favorite." Vanna asserted bluntly.

"Woah, woah now we ain't supposta' have favorites!" Ada chuckled.

"That's when it comes to your own kits!" Malcolm laughed. "It don't extend to general family members.

"I thought you was suppos'ta be Miss Professional!" Ada whined. "You can't just drop a bombshell on us like dat!"

"Well I did, so deal with it." Vanna retorted, the large tigress sticking her tongue out in the direction of the hyeness playfully.

As the other girls devolved into bickering Dawn turned her attention back to the mark on Vanna's paw. Despite the sweet sentiment behind the tigress' words, Dawn could feel the knot in her stomach begin twisting as she continued to stare into the crimson mark on Vanna's palm. She didn't know, she couldn't. That despite the tigress' hope and well wishes, Dorian had firmly established himself as the blockade between the ewe and a legitimate mark of her own. That as long as he drew breath, the ewe would never be able to proudly wear such a symbol that represented her place in the Hunter pack. Because simply, she had no place among them. Despite Vernon's love for her, and vice versa, Dorian would see to it that the family would be fractured for her past transgressions. Dawn could feel tears begin to well behind her glasses as Dorian's painful tirade began to replay in her mind.

'No, I can't.' Dawn thought, forcing a fake smile to her muzzle as she fought the tears away. She had to keep up the facade, she had to hold out. It was just two more days, and then she would cross that bridge with Vernon in the privacy of their own home. She was not about to cause an all-out war among the Hunters over Dorian's declaration.

"T-thank you." Dawn managed to stammer out, her voice only wavering slightly as the others around her and Vanna continued to argue around them.

The tigress offered a warm smile, placing the marked paw on the ewe's shoulder.

"No need to thank me, we're sisters." Vanna said.

Despite the overwhelming pain now burning inside, Dawn smiled through it.

[sufferthesea]

Ooh if you've got time could you do Kiba, Shino, and Iruka for when they first realize they love their s/o? I love reading your HCs❤ thanks for all you do!

Ahh!! Thank you so much!! You’re so sweet! Thank YOU for being so faithful and requesting stuff 💗 It’s been a lot of fun!! Hope you don’t mind me tagging @pyroinquisitor because she’s a Shino Hoe. A Shinhoe? idk she just really loves Shino. (Sorry this took so long!) 

Am I just a huge dork?? I was doing yard work earlier this week and I was thinking about how Iruka would confess his love to somebody…then I went inside and saw I had this message. 

Under the cut because I don’t know how the heckle deckle to keep things SHORT. These headcanons turned into mini scenarios, smh. 

FIRST REALIZING THEY LOVE THEIR S/O

Kiba

Kiba seems like the type to jump headfirst into a relationship. He doesn’t want to tiptoe around the whole, “I think I like you? Do you like me? What are we?” kind of thing. If he likes you, he’ll probably say it pretty quickly after he realizes it. But liking someone and loving someone are two different things, and Kiba learns that later on.  

Kiba’s dad is out of the picture, and he says his mom is the one who scared him off (honestly? I can see it; that woman can be terrifying) but Kiba understands deep bonds, loving relationships, and loyalty because of his clan’s practice of raising and using ninken. They aren’t just dogs to them, they’re family. So he probably thinks that when he feels the same way about his s/o as he feels about Akamaru, then that’s when he knows he’s in love. Buuuut he’s surprised when it’s different. 

Kiba and his s/o are out and about doing their own thing - probably taking Akamaru for a walk, snacking on food, taking in the sights of the village. They come across a group of young teens hanging out by the river and they’re making a commotion. Kiba thinks they’re being obnoxious, but his s/o notices something is wrong. They head over to the teens and see that there’s a small animal clinging to the bank down below - probably something like a squirrel or another small mammal - and it’s obviously struggling to stay out of the fast current. The teens are trying to figure out what to do (can they do anything?) when Kiba’s s/o leaps over the guardrail to get to the bank and scoops up the animal, cradling it in their clothes to keep it warm. They make it back up to the road and, without even stopping to tell Kiba, head to the nearest vet clinic to get it checked out. 

Kiba follows them with Akamaru and he catches up just in time to find his s/o handing over the tiny creature to the vet who takes it into a room to look it over. His s/o also says they’ll pay any medical bills to take care of the poor thing, and wants to wait at the clinic until they know the animal is okay. Kiba is floored. He waits in the clinic with them, but he’s wondering the entire time why they did that. Finally, it bugs him enough that he turns to them and asks, “Why did you save that creature? I mean, you risked yourself falling into that river just to save it - and it’ll probably just go back out there and get stuck again, or get eaten by something bigger. It was nice but - I just don’t understand.” Because even though Kiba understands the value of life, he’s always just been a “dog person” and hasn’t really considered other animals. 

His s/o calmly turns to him and says, “No life is too small or insignificant to save, Kiba. Even if that animal goes back out tomorrow and falls back in the river, or gets eaten by something bigger, or anything else like that - I was able to help it today, right now. I was able to save its life. It may not make a difference to you or to the vet or to those kids out there who found it; but it made a difference to that animal. That’s all that matters.” 

Kiba is taken aback by his s/o’s statement, and he suddenly realizes that he doesn’t just like them - he loves them. Not because of their looks or because they get along with Akamaru and his family. But because of their spirit and their gentleness, and because they can see the value and important in even the smallest of animals - animals that Kiba wouldn’t even give a second look to. Suddenly Kiba realizes that he wants his s/o to be the person he creates a family with - whether it’s made up entirely of dogs, squirrels, insects, or even cats. That’s when Kiba realizes he’s in love. 

Shino

Shino isn’t too concerned with finding an s/o or falling in love. He isn’t opposed to it happening, but that’s not his main goal in life. He also isn’t going to just fall for the first person who doesn’t freak out that his entire body is filled with insects. So whoever Shino ends up dating is pretty special. I can imagine them either being the person the other shinobi think is kind of strange and is a bit of an outcast, or somebody that everyone else goes, “THEY’RE DATING SHINO?!” 

Shino would be the type to realize he was in love with his s/o but not tell them outright. He believes that you should tell people you love that you love them, but he doesn’t think it needs to be said immediately or all the time. He may be taken a bit by surprise when he realizes he loves his s/o, and he probably puts off telling them right away so he can be absolutely sure. Most of everything he does is slow and methodical - thought out and precise. He doesn’t make a grand show of things and doesn’t waste energy doing unnecessary things. He’s not lazy like Shikamaru, he’s just more careful of how he expends his energy (social and physical) and is rather picky about who or what he uses that energy on. Because of this, he would wait until probably a few months until after he realized he loved his s/o to finally tell them. 

To be really honest, Shino’s first and foremost love is his insects. He takes care of them, talks to them, studies and collects them, and mourns when any one of them get killed. This may seem strange to many others, but to the Aburame Clan, insects are just as much family members as the ninken are to the Inuzuka Clan. 

How he figures out he loves his s/o is probably some time after they started dating. (He’s known them for a while now, and he’s decided they’re worth the time and energy to be in a relationship.) Their dates consist mostly of collecting, studying, and categorizing insects inside Konoha Forest. It’s often very quiet without much conversation; they just enjoy each other’s company as they capture bugs and take notes on them. 

The first words to come out of his s/o’s mouth all day is probably frantic noises as they try to identify the insect they’ve just caught in one of the catalogs they have on hand. When they can’t find it in any of the books and can’t immediately recognize it, they take it (in a plastic container) over to Shino and excitedly exclaim, “I think I’ve just found a new insect! It’s not in any of my books!” At first Shino is a little bit skeptic (a new insect? That easy? In this forest? Sure, okay) so he sits down with the bug to study it, but he can’t identify it from looks alone. He decides to scour through the catalogs and encyclopedias as well, but even he can’t identify it. He’s starting to get a little excited about it, but doesn’t want to get his hopes up. 

“We’ll take it into the village and see if someone else can identify it. Maybe my dad’s seen it,” Shino says, trying to sound calm and collected. They take the insect back to the village but no one else is able to tell him what it is, and it’s decided that it must be a previously unknown insect. Shino hands the container back to his s/o and tells them, “You should name it, you found it.” His s/o’s immediate response is, “I’m going to name it after you!” Confused, Shino says, “Typically, in situations like this, the discoverer names it after themselves. You should really do that. You’re the one who found it.” His s/o shakes their head and says, “Nope! I wouldn’t have found it if it weren’t for you taking me out there. It’s only because of you! So it has to be named after you.” 

That’s when Shino realizes he’s in love with his s/o. Not because they put up with his hobbies; not because they named their discovery after him; but because of their passion and genuine love of insects and their love of being with Shino. They aren’t just pretending to like bugs to get close to him, and they aren’t trying to purposefully be excluded by the other shinobis by being “weird”. They truly care about these tiny little creatures that most people crush underfoot with no remorse, and they are authentic in their interactions with him. Being true to yourself and being true to other people is really important to Shino, and this situation revealed his s/o’s true self, as far as he’s concerned. (But, again, he doesn’t tell them right away.)

If he’s still not 100% sure, he is totally convinced he’s in love when his s/o accidentally kills an insect (probably a larger or more rare one, but even a tiny common bug) and is so distraught about it, they mourn for it, hold a tiny little funeral for it, and refuse to see Shino for like a week afterward because of the guilt. Seeing them so upset about something he’s also passionate about cements the idea in his mind that he loves his s/o. (The next time he sees them, he would comfort them and tell them it was alright. That’s probably when he’d tell them he loved them.) 

Iruka

IRUKA IS SO SWEET OH MY GOSH. He also isn’t the type to get into a relationship “just because”. (Although he would absolutely love to be married and start a family of his own!!)He is very busy and his work is his life; he is so dedicated to teaching and to helping his students, so having the distraction of an s/o would only be worth it, in his opinion, if it was someone he could see a future with. He’s also very loving and has such a soft, gentle heart that he is very cautious of who he gives it to so it won’t be broken. Plus he’s also fairly shy when it comes to his crush, so by the time he’s confident and comfortable enough to ask them out on a date - let alone ask them if they want to be in a relationship - it’s probably been a few months and he has a good idea of how he feels about them (even if he doesn’t know them super personally yet).

Iruka’s entire life purpose is probably divided into 2 important things - taking care of his students to make sure they grow up to be the best shinobi the village has to offer, and taking care of Naruto. This may seem like it’s the same, but it’s not - Iruka is basically a father to Naruto, so his relationship with him is far different from his relationships with the other students. This means that it’s so, so, SO important for Iruka’s s/o to not only care about the students, but to care about Naruto as much as he does. 

By now, Iruka knows that he cares very deeply about his s/o and he may even think he’s in love, but one event is when he first truly realizes he’s in love with his s/o. There are lots of little things his s/o does that he appreciates: coming in to help him teach, staying late to help him grade papers, assisting with the outdoor history lessons, even substituting, and offering an ear to the students who need more assistance. But all of those things doesn’t quite equal “love” to him. (And it’s not that he expects his s/o to do this stuff, but he does kind of expect them to be willing to at least listen to him talk about his classes, so having them actually help out is super cool and a major plus for him.) 

So one day, Iruka has his s/o in to help teach a class and they’re practicing jutsus and all the students are expected to perform them perfectly (since they’ve been learning them for weeks). All the students but one line up and Iruka is kind of annoyed. (If you can’t tell, Iruka really hates it when kids disrespect authority figures and he can have a pretty short temper when it comes to kids acting up.) He asks the student to come to the front and the boy refuses, or even outright ignores him. Iruka is piiiissssed. 

“Fine,” he says. “You get to go first! Stand up and perform the jutsu where you’re at if you won’t come to the front.” Iruka thinks this is pretty smart on his part, because - ha! You thought you’d get away with that? Nice try. You still have to do the jutsu! But this kid isn’t having it. Either the boy continues to refuse or pulls a Naruto and does some outrageous jutsu that has the entire class laughing and Iruka even angrier than before. He’s absolutely ready to tear into this kid for their lack of respect but his s/o stops him. 

“You take care of the rest of the class,” they say, “I’ll talk to the boy.” They gently and kindly lead the boy out of the classroom into the hallway, where they talk to him. They don’t return until every one of the other students has finished the jutsu and sat back down. Iruka’s s/o walks the boy back into the class and waits with him by Iruka’s desk. “Do you have something to say?” his s/o asks kindly and the boy nods and sheepishly gives a deep bow to Iruka. “Sorry,” the boy says, “for disrespecting you. If you would let me, I would like to try the jutsu now.” Iruka is genuinely surprised, but he allows the boy to perform the jutsu (and he does it pretty well) and then sends him off to his seat. 

After class, Iruka waits until everyone’s gone when he confronts his s/o. “Why did you talk to him?” His s/o says, “You have to remember where these kids are coming from, Iruka. You of all people should know that sometimes the troublemakers have the hardest time. Besides, he reminded me of you … and Naruto. Of course I know talking won’t fix everything but I wanted to talk to him first and see if it, you know, helped.” Iruka is fairly embarrassed but he knows his s/o is right - he can be too quick to anger when dealing with unruly students. He asks them, “What did you say to him?” They kind of shrug and say, “I tried to think of something you’d say to Naruto. I mean, outside of the classroom. I think it helped some … although, I may have caused a slight inconvenience for our date tonight!” Iruka asks what they mean and they cheerily respond, “That boy is going to be joining us at Ichiraku tonight! So we’d better get there early enough to save 4 seats - I also invited Naruto this morning on my way here.”

In that moment, Iruka’s heart feels like it’s going to burst. He’s always known he’s cared about his s/o but right now oh my gosh, is this what love is like? Is this actually love itself?! He’s rarely met such a gentle soul, especially in a shinobi. But it’s more than that. His s/o has pointed out one of Iruka’s flaws and reminded him that, Hey, you were in the same place as this kid and you shouldn’t treat them the way you were treated. You know what you needed then, and you can give it to this kid now. Just the fact that his s/o was willing to talk to this student and understand them, and recognizes the struggles that he himself and Naruto went through (as well as acknowledges the importance of having someone to talk to and be there for you) is so amazing to him. He is definitely sure now that he loves his s/o and is so thankful he has them.

[shediesattheendzoots]

The Quest for a Perfect Apple

Apple picking in the burrows leads to a discussion between Nick and Judy about their old flames. When they are both reluctant to share stories, Nick challenges Judy to find a perfect apple in the orchard. The winner keeps their secret. The loser spills the beans.

My addition for WildeHoppsWeek, Day 6 prompt. One shot and lots of fluff.

Everyone knew that you do not challenge Judy Hopps to something without first meeting the most stubborn rabbit on the planet. Especially a certain fox, though you’d never know it by how he spoke to her.

“So,” said Nick, whilst tugged along by Judy's paw. “These are the famous Hopps orchards? They're a bit smaller than I expected. And barren.”

Judy huffed in feign indignation. “What do you expect so late into the season, dumb fox?”

“Ripe, red apples as far as the eyes can see. No one tops a Hopp. Isn’t that what you told me?”

“I believe my exact words were, You know, I’ve never actually gone apple picking before. Not, Oh please, oh please take me apple picking, Judy. I beg you. There’s a much difference cadence in groveling for it.”

Judy could only laugh and squeeze Nick’s paw tighter.

One good thing about going to the orchards so late into the season was that there were no wondering eyes to scrutinize the pair. Not that they were trying to hide anything—Judy’s parents had been more than accepting, even if it took time for her dad to come around—But the rest of Bunnyburrow wasn’t quite so open-minded. Judy didn’t care what the other rabbits thought, but Nick insisted on making as few enemies on their visit to the burrows as possible.

Better to keep appearances than to make adversaries, he had said.

Of course, the downside Nick was so keen to point out was that there were very few apples remaining on the trees. And those left behind were abandoned for a reason. Latercomers rarely found the best fruit, as Judy’s parents had warned her. And most apples remaining were disgusting piñatas of bugs and rot.

Suddenly, Judy was glad they had stopped at one of her family’s stands for a lunch of fresh fruits and vegetables, instead of relying on food from the orchard.

“Jeez,” she muttered, kicking at a few of the apples littering the ground. “Maybe this was a mistake. I can’t see anything good in the trees.”

“Well, the view is still pretty.”

“It’s a lot better when the leaves are still on the branches. There’s more a bustle then too, with folks coming and going for the baked goods. Pumpkin pie and hot apple cider. And then there’s the hay rides.”

Most of the Hopps fields were devoted to carrots, as part of the family brand. But the acres of the northern fields were dedicated solely to the harvest experience of apples and pumpkins every autumn. Any farmer in the burrows worth his salt knew that when the tourists rushed to see the leaves change, it was simply too good an opportunity to pass up earning an extra buck.

And visitors to the farms weren’t the only ones who looked forward to the experience.

“Sounds like you have a lot of memories of this place, Carrots.”

“Yup. I remember when dad planted each of these trees. I was six when he started, and the apple acre sort of grew with the family from there. It’s fun to come back every year and see how much it’s grown. Dad plants one seedling for each new Hopp kit.”

“Oh? Does that mean you have your own tree? I wouldn’t mind seeing it.”

“One out of three hundred and nine, yeah. Though even I haven’t seen it since…”

As her voice trailed, Judy recalled why it had been six years since she had been to the apple farm. It was enough that Nick noticed the pause.

“Everything okay?”

“...Yeah, it’s nothing,” she replied, her ears behind her head. “Just some bad memories too.”

“The falling out an apple tree and break your leg kind?”

“More like the heartbreak and teenage angst kind.”

Judy patted the bark of a nearby honeycrisp tree, scraping the wood with her claws.

“You know how it is,” she said. “Buck meets doe. Starts a high school crush. Ends poorly when she decides she wants to focus on college. Nothing complicated.”

“I dunno. I think there’s plenty of room for complication there.”

“Well, I didn’t think you’d want to hear the whole story.”

“Nonsense. I like hearing you talk about yourself.”

Judy considered herself fortunate that her ears were already behind her head. That spared her from Nick pointing out her obvious blush and poking fun at her.

But Nick also had a habit of shrugging off her flusters when he knew they truly bothered her. And he always knew, somehow.

It was a pattern he continued.

“Hey, like you said, I know how it goes. And I think we all have one of those stories where we’ve done something we’ve regretted in a relationship. If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine. It’s not like I need to know. Though I’m very curious, mind you.”

Judy sensed the opportunity to turn the tables on him.

“...So, does that mean you have one of those stories too?”

“Oh, no. You’re cashing checks your bunny butt can’t afford by barking up that particular tree.”

“Aw, come on. You never talk about your past.”

“There isn’t much to say,” he shrugged, releasing his grip on her a little. “And you probably wouldn’t like what you’d hear anyway. Old Nick was not a nice mammal.”

“Oh, please. I managed to put up with him.”

“For reasons that are still unknown to me.”

His paw escaped hers completely as he bundled up in the hoodie he was wearing.

In the beginning, Judy might have been worried she had hurt his feelings. But she knew better.

It was a game Nick liked to play with her. Feigning distance to encourage her to provoke him further along and coax an answer out of him. Some days, Judy wondered if it was Nick’s way of subtly training her how to hustle. Like hustling was his method of communicating with her better. But she always knew the difference between playful hurt and real hurt. It showed in his eyes, which betrayed everything about Nick’s masked persona.

In that moment, Nick’s green eyes stared at her with an air of fondness and coyness to them, contrasting the pouted lip he was giving her.

She answered his bluff with one of her own. Ears back and eyes wide, like a child begging for candy.

“Won’t you tell me the story? Pretty please?”

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours first,” he answered with a smile.

“No way. It’s too embarrassing and stupid…”

“Then it appears we are at an impasse,” Nick said. “You won’t tell me your story and I won’t tell you mine.”

“It’s not an impasse. You’re just no fun.”

“Ah. But I have a solution to our problem, madam rabbit. And something fun, no less.”

“Oh,” she replied, crossing her arms with a smile and looking on at his performance. “And what are you proposing, mister fox?”

“A game.”

“A game?”

“Indeed. It’s very simple, you see. We’ll go our separate ways in search of apples. Whomever finds a perfect apple will be declared the winner. The loser will have to tell their little heartbreak story to the other. That sounds fun, right?”

“A perfect apple,” Judy repeated the words. “What do you mean perfect?”

“I mean flawless. Perfect shape. Perfect red color. Delicious. I want the apple you think of when someone says the word apple. A textbook definition. That should be easy enough to find, right? Even toddlers know what a perfect apple looks like.”

Judy huffed and crossed her arms at the fantasy.

“There’s no such thing as a perfect apple. Not this late into the season, anyway.”

“Then you’ll just have to get creative, Carrots,” he replied with his trademark smirk. “It will make looking through the orchard more exciting. Don’t you think?”

She furrowed her brow at him. “What are you scheming?”

“Me? Scheme? Never. What makes you think I’m up to something?”

“Call it a hunch.”

“I’m hurt. Hurt, I say.”

“If that’s what hurts you, you wouldn’t be able to hustle a dime from a philanthropist much less pawsicles for a living. And whatever you say, I’m not falling for it. I learned my lesson already buying you that jumbo pop.”

“What’s the matter, Carrots? Chicken?”

Judy could feel a particular type of heat travel up her ears. And it wasn’t a blush.

Instead, she felt more like a stick of shortfuse dynamite. It was shame and indignation over Nick’s childish words. The blustering emotions boiling beneath the surface were not helped by his continued, knowing smirk.

“Well?” he asked. “Wanna play or do I win by default?”

~

Judy would have been proud to say such petty taunts from Nick had no effect on her at this point in their relationship.

But then she would be lying.

She stomped off through the mud in the opposite direction of Nick, cooling herself down by reminding herself that he was only playing with her. It was too small an acre to hold a grudge. And she knew Nick wasn’t going to have much luck on his end of the farm either.

It was simply far too late in the season to ever hope to find a perfect apple.

And yes, Judy had known that from the beginning when they had set out for the orchard.

She had been expecting to find, at least, a few decent apples. Maybe one that was a tad misshapen or had a few bad spots that could be cut away. But walking amongst the trees, Judy saw the branches picked clean.

“Business has been booming…”

Privately, Judy couldn’t help but wonder if the farm’s success had to do with the stir she had caused in Zootopia. Fans of her exploits who migrated south to see where the famous Judy Hopps had grown up. They invaded the burrow during an already intense time of the year for the farm.

The usual apple choices were long gone.

Macintosh being the most popular, didn’t even have a stem left behind. Then were the honeycrisp, sweet and Judy’s favorite. And a favorite of the bees too, judging by how they buzzed happily amongst the discarded, browned mush left on the ground. Granny smith were a sourer, rarer sort that only a pawful of Hopps preferred.

Each Hopp was given a choice of what type of apple tree to grow. And some of the youngest sprouts hadn’t even passed Judy in height yet.

She paused at one sign on a nearby tree. Red delicious.

“Well, he did say red and delicious…”

As with all the other trees, most of the branches were bare, especially near the bottom. Amongst the top, however, were several riper fruits. Or late-bloomers, it being so far in the season.

They were high enough up that any sane rabbit would have opted to move to the next tree. Or find a ladder.

But Judy Hopps was harebrained enough to jump for them.

She stepped back for a running start before clawing her way up the trunk. Though the peak of the apple tree was far too high for a single bound, there were plenty of branches to climb. And all her police training came in handy as Judy leapt further up the trunk.

Even when the sprigs grew narrow and she stumbled, she did not let up. It was unfitting of her to ever back down from a challenge. Even a self-imposed one.

She kept her eyes on the prize. A rather juicy looking red globe perched at the second branch to the top.

In one final push, she reached for the apple with her tippy toes before slinking back down with her prize in paw.

“Gotcha.”

It was a short lived victory.

No sooner than did Judy put all her weight down on her supporting branch did it creak and groan under pressure. Even the tiny weight of a rabbit was enough to snap the wood entirely, sending Judy tumbling several feet to the hard ground.

She landed with a heavy thud on her butt, protecting her apple by holding it close like a baby.

The ringing sensation of pain traveled up her spine as her body asked her the obvious question. What the heck were you thinking?

“That’s definitely going to bruise,” she groaned, rubbing at her hindquarters.

Judy flexed her hips slightly in a few stretches, making sure she hadn’t broken anything. When satisfied she had gotten away with only dirtying her fluffy, white tail, she returned her gaze to the acquired fruit.

It was as ordinary any other apple one might find on a farm, almost like the ones the pair had for lunch an hour ago. With curves in all the right places and five bumps at the bottom, it looked exceptionally average on the surface. A typical, perfect apple.

“I guess it’s as good as any,” Judy said to herself, tossing it in the air a few times. “Wonder if Nick had any luck.”

~

Nick was right where Judy had left him, leaning against one of the trees with his own apple in his paw. A Macintosh.

“How’d you make out, Carrots?”

“See for yourself,” Judy held up her apple with pride.

Nick smiled and held his paw out.

“Not bad. May I?”

She shrugged and tossed Nick the fruit, which he juggled for a moment as he struggled to get a grasp on it.

Once he did, Nick gave it a full combover much like he was a jeweler examining a precious gemstone. Judy watched him while tapping her foot as he inspected every corner of her apple, from the top to bottom.

First, he fiddled with it, tugging at the stem. Then he squeezed it to test its firmness. And finally he sniffed it.

“Nope,” he said at last. “It’s no good.”

“It’s no good,” Judy repeated his words. “Why? What’s wrong with it? It looks fine.”

“Oh, sure. It looks perfect on the outside. But what’s inside counts too.”

Nick dug his claws into the skin of the fruit, allowing him to tear apart the apple neatly in half. Judy contorted in disgust at what was in the core.

“Ugh! Worms!?”

“Looks like it,” said Nick as the maggots wriggled free. “I thought it smelled iffy. Not the tastiest apple, I would think.”

“Agh,” Judy clawed at her tongue. “And I wanted to eat that when you were done!”

“Still can,” he offered the fruit. “Want it?”

“No!”

Nick chuckled before tossing the apple away.

“I figured a farm girl like you wouldn’t mind bugs so much.”

“Bugs are fine. But maggots are the worst. They ruin so many crops and can sometimes kill a whole harvest. So, I hate them.”

Judy took a moment to collect herself while Nick grinned. He was very pleased with himself as he tossed his own apple in the air a few times. Judy quickly realized why.

With her apple tainted by worms, that left Nick as the winner of the game by default. And him winning was almost worse than eating an apple filled with maggots. His smugness was insufferable, just like having to admit her loss.

Judy grinded her teeth as she spoke.

“Well...It looks like you won the bet.”

“Wrong again, Carrots. I failed too.”

He caught her by surprise by tossing his apple in her direction. Judy’s trained reflexes allowed her to catch it instantly.

“It looks fine to me,” she said, inspecting its shape and color.

“You’re only seeing the surface level then.”

“What?” she asked, holding the apple away from her at arm's length. “Does this have worms in it too?”

“No, no. Nothing like that. Just look a bit closer, Carrots.”

Judy humored him with a sigh and brought the apple into her face. She then spun it around a few times.

It was on her third circle that she noticed a white sticker taped to the surface. It took her a few heartbeats to process what it meant. But when Nick’s message clicked, her face morphed into a scowl.

“You cheated!”

“Hey, now. I admitted that I lost, just like you. Everything’s fair and square. I just happened to keep one of the apples we had for lunch. And I didn’t want to break any of the branches of a tree by trying to climb it. Foxes aren’t known for their mountaineering skills, after all.”

Judy groaned in disgust as she peeled off her family logo from the apple.

Nick’s entry had been one of the apples from the reserved orchards, picked early in the season and treated with preservatives. It was the sort grown solely for selling, be it for wholesale or for cider. Of course it was going to look too perfect to be picked from the orchard they were in. It’d even lack a genuine taste.

“That’s still a cheap hustle,” she muttered, dropping the apple to the ground.

“Sorry, Carrots. Couldn’t resist. If it makes you feel any better, we both lost.”

“Right...So, what happens now?”

“Admittedly, I haven’t thought this far ahead in the case of a tie. I was hoping you’d find something a little better than a ball of worms.”

“Well, sorry I’m a disappointment.”

“You’re not. Trust me. It’s just funny. Here I was expecting to let you win.”

As unfair as Nick’s little trick felt, his smile always had the habit of making Judy forgive him quickly.

Perhaps teasing her was a little reminder of what he used to do for a living. But he never took it too far with her. And he knew the right things to say afterwards.

“Let me make it up to you,” he said, bowing his head. “Walk with me and I’ll tell you all about the time I got dumped.”

~

“You remember what I was like back then, right?”

“Completely egocentric? Cockier than a rooster? Always had on a smirk like a crocodile?”

“Alright, alright. I get it. I wasn’t a nice guy. I had a chip on my shoulders, especially in my early twenties. And there weren’t exactly a lot of prospects given what I did for a living. I was far from a perfect catch. But I could act civilized when it was called for.”

“I’d hope so, given our first encounter.”

“You know how it is,” Nick said with a smile. “One day, you just sort of stumble into someone on the streets who catches your eye. Suddenly, you spend your whole day thinking about them.”

Judy let out a curious “hmm” while gripping at Nick’s paw.

“It was completely superficial. She was just a cute vixen I bumped into while selling ‘supplies.’ I ran my mouth to impress her. Made up a bunch of stuff about who I was. Hustled her, basically, into thinking I was someone I wasn’t. And she believed me. Every single word.”

Judy couldn’t help but feel some kinship towards the poor vixen whom she had never met. She had been on the other end of one of Nick’s hustles too. And that memory showed in her glance to Nick.

“You don’t have to say it,” continued Nick. “I was a jerk. And it didn’t end well, as one would expect. I kept it going for a while, but everyday was like wearing a mask. Like looking over your shoulder, waiting for the moment it’d all come crashing down. Until one day she finally found out about it through a slip up I made in the worst possible way.”

“Did she rip you a new one?”

“No. That was the worst part. I could understand if someone wanted to scream at me for lying to them like that. But there wasn’t even a single word she said to me. She just got up and left in silence. Never contacted me again. And I never saw her after that. Not that it wasn’t what I deserved but…”

It was rare to see Nick give a genuine frown as he rubbed the back of his head. He wasn’t one to ever show honest discomfort, if he could help it. That was all part of his motto. His mask.

It was also how Judy knew he was telling the truth when he said.

“I regret leaving things with her like I did. I really wasn’t fair to her. And I’d like to think I’m a better mammal now. If I ever see her again, I’d want to apologize.”

Judy smirked and squeezed his paw slightly. “I’d like to think you are too.”

There was a silence between the couple as they continued to walk down the rows of apple trees, paw in paw.

It wasn’t the bad kind of quiet. Just the sort that could exist between two friends when there was nothing else to say, but they could still enjoy each other’s company. Though, internally, Judy was digesting Nick’s story. It was another layer to the checkered past of her fox. Bits and pieces that she would sew together to see the real person he liked to keep locked away.

And there was something about his story that prompted Judy to break the pleasant quiet.

“...You aren’t the only one who wasn’t fair though. I’ve only had one other boyfriend. And I sort of started the relationship knowing that it would probably end badly, if only subconsciously.”

Nick let out his own, knowing “hmm.”

“I guess something is destined to fail if it's rotten from the onset,” said Judy. “It was late high school when I met Billy. Or, more accurately, he met me. He was absolutely smitten with me. And I liked him. Well enough, anyway. People always said we looked like the perfect couple. But, deep down, we just wanted different things. And he was very...Traditional.”

“Ah. This already has an unhappy ending, Carrots.”

Judy covered her face. “You know how I get about my police work. But Billy certainly didn’t understand why I had to go to community college outside of the burrows for my career. Or why I even wanted to be an officer of law when the Hopps own one of the biggest farms in the state. And he got very clingy at the end before I left him for school.”

Judy let out a heavy sigh, recalling just how taxing her first year of college was.

The chaos of traveling across state, coupled with a bad breakup, made her freshman year particularly difficult. Not to mention the guilty memory of seeing a pair of drooping rabbit ears watching her leave from the train station.

“He’s doing fine now,” she said. “Last I heard, he married and had like thirty kids of his own. But...I dunno. There’s always that bad taste in your mouth. You know? But it’s like...How can you expect a relationship to succeed if there are problems at the core? I know it was probably for the best. But a part of me always wonders if I’m a bad person for not giving it a fair try in the moment.”

“You’re not. Sometimes things don’t work out. You wanted different things. Happens all the time.”

“Well...I guess I’m happy at least one thing did work out.”

Judy gave Nick’s paw another squeeze before pulling him along to the honeycrisp tree at the end of the row.

She had all but forgotten about the tree marked by the heart carved into the bark with the initials J.H. and B.Y. at its middle. The wood had healed well from the knife and the lines were already starting to fade to the untrained eye. But Judy could still see the message, clear as day.

“Well,” she said. “Here it is. My apple tree.”

Being a fox in the burrow, Judy was used to seeing Nick tower over most things around the town. Even her apple tree didn’t look nearly so big next to him. Though he still wouldn’t be able to reach the top, even on his tippy toes.

“Shorter than I thought,” he commented.

“Shush you. Anyway, depressing backstories aside...You said you wanted to see it, so here it is.”

Nick looked it up and down with a smile. He was genuinely pleased with what he saw.

“There are still some apples left up there,” he pointed out the few resting at the very top branches. “Wanna get em?”

Judy rubbed at her sore hip. “I think I’ve had enough climbing trees for one day.”

“You don’t need to climb any trees. You only need to climb me.”

Nick released her paw and pressed his back against the trunk of the tree. He then held his own paws together in a makeshift step like he wanted to give her a boost.

“You can’t be serious…”

“Aw, come on. It’s perfectly safe. Don’t you trust me?”

“You barely passed enormous criminals training in the academy, and you want to try lifting me in the air?”

“Yup! It’ll be fun.”

“No thanks, Nick…”

At first, Judy thought Nick was going to try to taunt her again with another challenge or a sleight on her bravery. But after staring blankly at each other, he just shrugged and dropped his pose.

“Eh. I’m getting cold anyway. You’re right. If we want apples, we can just get them at your family’s stands.”

Judy watched Nick’s back as he stepped away from the tree, heading towards the path for home. Though she still caught a glimpse of something somber in his eye before he turned around.

She let out a soft sigh before preparing to go into a sprint.

“Dumb fox…”

Nick yelped when Judy collided into him.

She then scrambled for his shoulders and tugged at his ears to better position herself into comfortable seating, planting the back of his head between her thighs.

“If you wanted fresh apples from the tree,” she grumbled into his ear. “Why didn’t you just say so from the beginning?”

“I didn’t want to be a bother,” he mumbled back, with her foot in his face.

“You’re not a bother if you want something, dumb fox. Sometimes it’s okay to open up a little. You know?”

Nick went quiet for a moment.

“Sorry, Carrots. You’re right. I need to try harder at that.”

“So long as you remember it with me. Now, move to the left.”

Judy was directing him by fondling at his ears like they were a pair of joysticks and she was operating a crane. Nick lurched closer to the trees by her command. Close enough for her to reach the lowest hanging fruit. It was one with a funny looking shape and color, half red and half yellow. But otherwise unblemished.

She grabbed, twisted, and pulled it skyward until it popped free into her palm.

“There,” she said as they stepped back from the tree. “Worm check.”

Nick sniffed at the apple as she dangled it in front of his snout before giving the thumbs up to signal the all clear.

“Smells good to me.”

“Well, it’s not perfect,” she said, dropping it fully into Nick’s paw.

“It doesn’t have to be to still be good.”

“I guess you’re right,” Judy smiled as she rested atop of Nick’s head, content to listen to him munch on her apple.

He took one big chomp before holding it up for her to nibble on. She happily took a bite of his offer. Savoring the crisp taste of fall and the wind rustling through the dried leaves that still remained on the trees.

And there was no sweeter fruit to be had.

[galacticbugman]

My favorite Birds

Somewhere along my crazy life I became a birder long before I became really interested in insects. It was back in the year 2015 when I had to have surgery on my kidneys due to a thing I have had since birth. Anyway while I was recovering my late grandmother bought me a camera to use. That Camera was a Nikon Coolpix L830. It was the camera that would lead me down this new path as a naturalist. While I was recovering I found myself using it more and more. I would often spend time out in nature and I found myself studying birds around my home town. My aunt taught out in a small area and next to their school they had a filed and an old farm stock tank. I would spend a lot of time photographing the birds and that is how my love for birds grew. I became a birder and have been all over Texas and Arkansas and even in parts of Oklahoma looking for birds of any kind. Even after I got into the Texas Master Naturalist program and now I am still a birder and have found many cool species in just a matter of four short years. I over 170 birds species on my life list but I am going to share just a fraction of those since that would be a lot of ground to cover. So here we go with my favorite birds from 2015-2019. Here we go with... *Dramatic Voice* NUMBER ONE! 

One of Texas’ most iconic birds; these little guys are not a parrot but they are related to the Northern Cardinal. Meet the Painted Bunting. This is a male that I got out at a place called the Southwest Nature Preserve. It is the place I got my start before I became a Texas Master Naturalist. These guys are so pretty with a head of royal blue, tow toned green feathers, a bright red breast they are a birder’s gateway bird. This one is one I had been searching for all my life. I finally saw my first one in 2015. It was at my feeder but I didn’t have my camera ready but this one I got in 2016 totally made up for it. These guys have one of the prettiest songs and for their tireless singing they are illegally caught in Mexico and sold as cage birds. They are a Near Threatened species unfortunately due to them being sold and put in captivity. The males are the most colorful of the two sexes. The female is an electric green color for camouflage when it is time to raise a family. She nests in a tickets of green brier which is a spiny vine that grows in most forests. They feed on a grass known as cup grass which is a Texas native grass. Some times they will feed at a feeder like the first one I ever spotted. It was one day after school and I was not having any luck with the birds so I went inside and after a while I went out to look out my den window and a male Painted Bunting eating out of my feeder that I had put mixed seed in. He ate and ate and ate. He would fly off and then come back. That was a truly special moment of my life. Now during most summers I get to see about two or three a year. Still one I am not sick of seeing. They are one that should always be on any birders watch list. They are such a striking and lovely bird.

Now on to bird *Dramatic Voice* NUMBER TWO 

Next up is the endangered Loggerhead Shrike. I have been going to Tarrant County College for a while now and I get up there pretty early to go to school during the Fall and Summer. This is one that I see pretty often while arriving by the Football Stadium across the street. These guys are colored very much like the Mockingbird but they have a darker and much bolder mask, hooked beak, and a more stouter build. They are a song bird but they have a raptor like way of life. Remember that hooked beak remark? Well that is how they rip and shred their prey. However they have a slight problem; their feet are much more like a songbird than a bird-of-prey so they have a solution to dealing with this issue. They will skewer their prey on a barb or a spine on a tree, bush, or barbed wire fence. These guys will then pull apart their prey. The more they have in their tree or where they store prey the more female shrikes will consider them to be more fit to be father’s to their chicks. They are one of my favorite birds and I have even noticed some of our trees have been used as their food trees. They are a really neat bird and one that is found in open areas. They are often seen on power lines and even in trees. They will eat a lot of things such mice, snakes, bugs and frogs. They are one of the coolest birds to learn about and one of the most interesting having the best of both worlds being one half song bird and one half raptor which is only seen in one other bird which is the Northern Shrike which we do not get in Texas. 

Bird NUMBER THREE! 

Now why is this Coyote in the photo well because the bird coming up is the Coyotes’ greatest nemesis. Well... okay... maybe not in real life but it is in the Looney Tunes skits. Lets meet the Roadrunner. 

The Greater Roadrunner is not really on the menu for the Coyote as most of Looney Tunes fans would like to think. In fact they get a long pretty well for the Roadrunner is fast and in actuality the Coyote wants stuff he can catch. The Roadrunner is a fast bird but instead of sticking out his tongue and making a *Blup* *Blup* *Blup* *MEEP! MEEP!* Sound followed by a loud ricochet sound; these guys actually sound much like a dove. Their calls can be a triple bill clap followed by a single whoop which is an alert to stay back which I have experienced first hand. They also have a sound that is a dove call that is loud by then gets softer and lower in tone but it is more of a gruff tone. I have only been able to photograph these birds three times this one here was my most recent one. This one was at a place near my school called Stella Rowan Prairie. We had just parked and my dad told me to look up and we saw it and I was able to get out and get this shot of the bird before he went into the under brush and disappeared. These are one of my favorite birds. Let me tell you they are fast but don’t believe everything you see in Hollywood productions. I love the roadrunner for many reasons one they are fast and two they are one of the funniest looking birds we have in North America. They are known to eat reptiles but are no strangers to raiding the dog dish. They will also eat insects. They are one of the fastest animals I have ever seen in the wild. You have to be very quiet to sneak up on one of these or they will quickly flee from you. They are sometimes a pain to photograph but once you do it is an experience you are not ever going to forget. 

The next one is one of my favorite ducks; this is my favorite of the North American Ducks. Meet the beautiful North American Wood Duck. This is a male; just look at his beautiful plumage of green, white, and chestnut, mixed with some cream color on the side where his wings are. What a beauty! These are my favorites for the male’s calls just make my heart melt. The males when calling make a squeaky DEZEET DEZEET DEZEET! Sound. It is high and a pleasant sound. The photos don’t do these guys justice; you have to look for them and experience them in the wild. I took all of my Wood Duck photos in Fort Worth Texas. This one was taken in Fort Worth at a nice little duck pond that is not too far from the Trinity River. These guys are so beautiful and the funny thing is they don’t look real. The female of this species is nearly all gray with some white. They nest in hollows of old trees in little cavities about seventy five foot up so predators don’t get to their nests. When time to hatch the female goes to the water as her babies hatch they will fluff up and then she will start to call and they have to drop seventy-five feet down to get to her. It is kind of daunting but they have a nice cousin to land in. They are one of the most common of our ducks but in my experience I have seen very few in my life time but they are real treat to see in the wild. 

One of my favorite birds of Prey will have to be the American Kestrel. I was lucky enough to be out at the exercise track out at TCC South when I saw this guy sitting on a power line. This guy would take off and it was one of the very first birds I got in flight for the first time. They are the smallest bird of prey in North America and are the smallest of our falcons. They are specialists mainly insects and other small things. They are very pretty with colors of reddish brown, a grayish blue color, black spots on the face with black spots on the wings. They are so pretty and you will almost miss them. They are very cute and they don’t really look like a bird of prey but they are and they often fall prey to other birds of prey if they are not careful. These are often found in Texas in the winter time more times than in the spring and summer. 

One of most recent birds I got on my recent trip out to the Texas coast. This is the funnest bird you can ever look for down here. They look like something you will see in a Zoo and truth be told you can but like most things it is more rewarding to seek these guys out in their natural habitat. Meet the Roseate Spoonbill. These birds are naturally born white but due to the algae and the shrimps they eat they turn pink. These guys are always out in the early morning in feeding groups like the one here. I took this at a place called Indian Point Park near where we were staying. This was one of my favorite shots even though it was not that close. Any closer and they would have fled. There was a lot of stuff feeding that morning. I got a lot birds on the trip when this was took. I love birding it is very fun and rewarding. It is one of my favorite past times even though I often get side tracked and look for other things. Let is just put it this way I love to just watch wildlife and explore its beauty. Whether watching the birds of the skies, or the bugs that crawl around, the fish that swim, the plants that are so fragrant and green, the fungus that looks like it comes from another planet, the mammals that are everyone’s favorite, or the reptiles that are lesser appreciated. I love nature and all that is in it. Nature like I have said has some neat stuff to look at. It is the best thing we have; without it we could not survive. It is the life force that keeps us afloat and we must protect it for it is in danger from what we are doing to it. We must do our part and do what we can to prevent more harm to the environment. So get out an explore and make that connection. Lose yourself and discover a world of wonder.        

[mosylufanfic]

The World was Moving She was Right There With it and She Was

“And She Was” by The Talking Heads

The song! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YgSVTdAtNYE

Most of these prompts are shippy because that's what I asked for, but the person who gave me this prompt also gave me carte blanche to use whatever characters I wanted. When I listened to the song, it's so trippy that this was all I could think of.

The World was Moving She was Right There With it and She Was

The thing was, Rey was terrible at meditation.

"I'm a scavenger, Master Skywalker," she tried to explain. "I'm not good at sitting still. Scavengers live too close to the bone. If you sit still too long, you don't eat."

He looked at her through his shaggy brows. "Right. Yes. Nothing like moisture farming."

Sarcasm was, she felt, entirely uncalled for.

He shook his head. "I know it doesn't come naturally, but not everything about being a Jedi is going to come naturally. That's why you have to work at it."

"Sitting there doing nothing. That's not work."

"You're not doing nothing," he tried to explain, but that was what it looked like to her, the way he would plop down on a convenient bit of rock or patch of floor and not move for hours. "Look. Rey. The Force isn't a battery, all right? You can't just tap into it for power when you need it and ignore it when you don't. You need to spend some time with it. The Force is a living . . . entity. It's beyond living. It surrounds us and - "

"Flows through us," she muttered. "And - "

" - binds the universe together, don't roll your eyes at me."

She raised her brows at his turned back as he scraped food scraps into the recycler. "The Force told you I was rolling my eyes?"

"The Force had nothing to do with it," he said. "More like years of teaching snarky teenagers."

"I'm not a teenager!" she said indignantly, and paused. "I think. Anyway, please, can't I put off meditation to master later?"

"No," he said. "It's the first thing you have to master, or you're just swinging lightsabers around."

"Worked on Starkiller," she muttered, but subsided at his look.

At their nightly meditation practice, she was so fidgety that he opened his eyes and sighed.

"It's too quiet," she tried to explain.

"That's to eliminate distraction."

"I can't just go away from everything like that," she said.

"You're not going away. It's the opposite. You're opening yourself to everything. You're inviting it in and you're going out to it."

"At the same time?"

He shook his head. "Go check the traps."

She clambered down the path to the traps. She knew it was busy-work at best - they'd already had dinner and unless it seemed like there was a storm coming on, he preferred fresh fish. Well, they both did. Desert children that they were, fish still carried the edge of luxury to it, even if it was mostly what they ate.

One lone fish swam placidly around the trap, unaware that it was fated to end up in Rey's belly. She left it to its happy ignorance for a while longer.

She squatted at the edge of the sea, wrapping her legs around her shins and resting her chin on her knees. She let out a little sigh.

She did want to meditate, actually. It looked so good and peaceful when Luke did it, especially when he wasn't trying to drag her along with him. And she could feel it in the Force as he settled into meditation, the bright blob of his powerful presence settling, smoothing, spreading out, the edges feathering into the rest of the world. She envied it, and she envied the calm peace that seemed to hang around him for hours after. She wanted that.

The trouble was - she couldn't.

Silence was too loud for her. Every little hush of wind or scrape of a foot jolted her into guarded awareness, long years of self-preservation kicking in. She felt quite sure that guarded awareness wasn't the best place to meditate from. Awareness, maybe. It was dropping the guard that was the problem.

Her chin itched. She scratched it on the rough fabric stretched over her knees and sighed again.

There was a storm coming. The waves were getting choppier. She watched them roll in, break, collapse with a spray of water, then reform themselves, smaller, closer to the shore, and break again on the rocks, spitting fine mist over her where she squatted. She could move, she thought, but didn't. She wanted to look at the ocean some more.

It was something like the desert.

She'd never liked the desert, exactly, but she missed it. She liked green, she liked the water, she liked rainfall. She really liked the sounds of animals who weren't actively trying to kill you.

But there was something so big about the desert. When you looked out over the sand, listened to the wind, you felt small and temporary and as if all your problems and worries were blips to this uncaring vastness. Even a Star Destroyer was rendered tiny and meaningless in the desert.

How strange was it that she'd always found that a kind of comfort?

The only thing she'd ever seen to rival it was the ocean.

She let out her breath a third time. Not quite a sigh. Balanced as she was, on a slippery rock, she should be much more tense than this.

The sound of the waves and the wind wrapped around her.

Up in the temple, Luke opened his eyes and said, "Huh."

"We're meditating where?" Rey asked, scrambling down the rocks after Luke. They were taking a path she hadn't explored very far yet, because it was very badly maintained. The path looked practically coincidental, as if flat stones had just happened to fall in this particular way by some wild probability. A herd of the fat, flightless black-and-white birds native to the island, with their round eyes and sharp beaks, scrawwwwwwed at her before waddling off in high dudgeon.

"Not we, you," Luke said, picking his placid way down the path as if he knew every stone in it personally and might stop to inquire after one's mother in a moment. He hadn't gotten scrawwwwwed at, she noticed grumpily. "And you'll see."

She muttered to herself.

"You're rolling your eyes at me," Luke called over his shoulder. "Stop it. Ah." He paused, took a step forward, and disappeared.

"Master Luke!" she yelped, reaching out for him automatically.

But he was fine, and she realized that what she'd taken for another dip in the crumpled-looking land was in fact a drop into a cave. She stuck her head in and found him waiting, brows raised.

"Is this a test?"

She had to shout it over some kind of intermittent booming noise.

"This is where you'll meditate," Luke shouted back. "Come down here, Rey."

She eyed the path, decided that if she broke her ankle or smashed her knee on the rocks she'd make Luke heal it, and picked her way down.

The noise was astonishing. It was bigger than sound. It seemed to slam into her like something physical. When she peered toward the other light source, she found that the mouth of the cave was half-underwater and the waves rolling in broke on rocky walls and ground. The booming was the sound of their breaking, echoing and re-echoing in the dips and nooks of the cave.

"I thought meditation required silence," she shouted.

He shook his head. "Try this," he shouted back.

A particularly large wave bashed itself to pieces on the cave wall and spattered them both with cold, salty water.

"Is it safe?"

He shrugged. "Safe enough."

"What if the tide comes in, floods this place, and sucks me out to sea?"

He smiled at her. "Just try it."

"Lovely," she muttered, settling herself on the flattest bit of rock she could find. The pervasive damp immediately started soaking her butt. "You're leaving?"

He waved over his shoulder, clambering up and out of the cave again.

"If I die, I'm going to haunt you," she yelled at his back.

How he heard her, she had no idea. How she heard him say, "You'll have to get in line," she didn't know either.

Before she could think of some kind of response to that, he was gone. She huffed out her breath.

How was she supposed to empty her mind with all this noise?

The waves boomed. Water splashed, echoing damply further back in the cave. Some kind of amphibian squeaked, and she watched a bug skitter over the stone. Waves rolled in, booming louder.

So loud - so much -

It filled her head, crowding out her thoughts. She tried to keep her mind clear, but it was taking her over, wrapping around her -

The ocean. The noise. The fish, the bugs, the sky, the birds, the clouds, the heartbeat of the ground beneath her feet, the song of the stars high overhead. She swore she could feel them all, crowding round her, pressing in on her skin. She shook her head, thinking, Go away, I need to find the Force -

She gasped in sudden recognition.

This was the Force. Not some lofty ideal, drifting about in the ether.

This was the power of life itself, breathing, fighting, dying, being born. Blood and entrails, tooth and claw. The high hum of the tiny biting bugs that lived only a day or two, the low mournful song of the great aquatic mammals far out to sea. The motion of the waves, the crack in the seafloor, the ferocity of the magma hitting the seawater, flash-boiling it to the glee of the animals that made their home on the seafloor vents.

She didn't need to seek it out like a hidden treasure. She just needed to see it as it was.

As present as anything had ever been. More. The moments when she had touched the Force, had let it flow through her, had let it wrap around her - that hadn't been some mystical wisp of elusive power. That was the universe itself grabbing her by the head and saying, Listen. Be.

How did Luke live in this all the time?

Her Rey-ness was slipping away, and she grabbed for it before she realized. She couldn't lose herself. She was in it, she was there. The Force was with her and she was with the Force.

Keeping herself apart from it would be the mistake.

She gasped for air. Her face was wet. She didn't know if it was salt-spray or tears.

Some hours later, she picked herself up and climbed out of the cave, moving very, very carefully. Gravity felt optional. She had to focus on putting her feet on the ground, not above it or under it. Her skin felt like a transparent membrane between her and the universe.

She pushed the door of the hut at the top of the hill open, surprised that her hand pressed on it and was able to move it. She could feel the Force humming in the long-dead wood.

Luke was by the fire, cutting something up for the stew pot. He peered up at her as she picked her way across the room. His hands were nasty with fish skin and blood and guts. His presence glowed like a beacon.

"How was the Force?" he asked.

She settled down across from him, folding up her legs. "Sends its regards."

FINIS

[zooptoopfanworks]

False, Fatal Motif; Pt 1

Hey, guys! It’s been a long time since I posted an original work. I guess that’s because I admittedly haven’t been writing as much as I used to. Part of that I attribute to writer’s block, the other to just flat out lack of motivation.

But I’m back, for the time being, with another fic! It’s a slight work in progress, but I hope you all enjoy it nonetheless! Prepare for heartbreak! Angst! Tension! Hopefully not false advertising on my part, but I digress...

“No.” A young Judy gasped in disbelief. She backed away from her bed until her back thudded against the wall of her own little burrow. Her friend’s cell phone dropped at the foot of her bed as she hurriedly scampered back. Her mind suddenly filled with a maelstrom of emotions, disbelief, anger, and betrayal proving to be the most prominent at the moment. “That can’t be real” She gasped, tears threatening to burst the dam she was struggling to maintain. “You... you must’ve altered the pictures somehow.”

Jean, another rabbit, one grade level higher than her, with her fur a darker shade of gray than Judy but shorter ears, shook her head solemnly. “No, I didn’t Judy. This is as real as it gets.”

Judy’s eyes darted from Jean to the phone, then shook her head deniably. “No... There’s some explanation to this, I know it... She’s... a sister, or a cousin, or something like that.”

“Judy...” Jean sighed and crouched down in front of her “Family don’t hug like that. They don’t kiss like that. You saw the pictures for yourself”

Her state of denial remained strong, but began to crack along with her composure. “He... he wouldn’t do that to me... He said he loved me...”

“Judes, I know this is a lot to take in. I’m gonna be blunt. He lied. He doesn’t care about you.”

“Don’t you DARE say that!” Judy reared defensively, the first hints of tears leaking through her eyes. “We love each other!”

“Judes, it’s obviously not double sided.” Jean calmly replied.

“Yes it is!”

“Maybe at first. But lately he hasn’t been with you for more than an hour”

That was true. But so what? He was perfectly capable of having a circle of friends that extends beyond her.

“You’ve been quote-unquote ‘dating’ for a year, but he has yet to take you on an official ‘date’”

“Yeah, but we kiss! He loves me!”

Jean sighed and shook her head “Judy, from an outside perspective... it’s unbalanced.”

“What do you mean?”

“Maybe on your end, you feel whatever passes for love, but his side is purely lust, if anything.”

Judy’s rage started to show in her face. “Get out of my room.”

Jean kept pressing on. “I’m serious, Judy. It’s clear he wants something that you’re not giving him.”

“I said get out.”

“Judy, boyfriends wrap their arms around your waist. In the rarer occasions where he touches you, he takes every chance he can to cup at your ass”

“GET OUT, DAMN IT!”

“I know guys like him! To him, you’re nothing but a trophy!”

Judy screamed louder than she ever screamed before and chucked her pillow across her bedroom, sending a small potted flower toppling to the floor. Then, she faceplanted on the bed, defeated. The hard truth of her friend’s words finally sunk in, and she realized how true her words were. It was astonishing how believable he would make his lies just to keep her around. Her screams were replaced with pathetic sobs as her body convulsed uncontrollably as she took air in sporadic gasps. Within seconds, her pillow was soaked with tears. Jean set a paw on her back and stroked it as though she were the most delicate newborn bunny that would shatter at the slightest hint of aggression.

“I… I really thought…” Judy struggled, unable to finish the thought.

“I know, Judes…” Jean whispered.

“He said… He’d never… But…” More sobbing. It was amazing Judy didn’t drown herself yet.

“I can’t believe I actually believed him…” the first full sentence she’s managed.

“Happens to the best of us, Judes.” Jean replied, clearing her throat

Judy’s broken heart expressed itself in similar bouts of broken speech for a good hour. After a while, her whole body hurt as much as her heart did, and the pair sat together in silence.

“I’m sorry, Jean…” Judy finally muttered, her face finally out of the pillow. “I said some things I didn’t mean.”

Jean pulled Judy to her feet. “It’s not your fault, Judes. He’s a dick. C’mon, I hear your mom made another blueberry pie.”

Fast forward to a few years after her employment.

It had been two years since Judy first met Nick outside the elephant ice cream shop. Within the following days, he became her first friend in the city. A few days after, she said somethings and fucked everything up, and after endless sessions of self loathing and regret, He forgave her after three months, even though it took until three months after that when she forgave herself for what happened. They became police partners on top of best friends, meaning they spent a lot of time together. In that time, they became close. REALLY close. Before either of them knew it, they were sharing secrets they thought they had blocked out for years, and their feelings for each other grew exponentially. Six months later, he finally grew the balls to ask her out, which she quickly agreed to.

It started out rocky, as could be expected. On top of hiding their relationship at work, inter-species dating wasn’t exactly held in high regard. But somehow, Nick made it work. He channeled as much of his optimism and energy into what they had. Even on days when he was dead tired, he always tried to make time for Judy. They’d cancelled each other’s dates more times than either cared to admit, whether it was work or something personal, but they always made up for it. It wasn’t exactly something out of some teenage romance novel where everything is perfect and everything worked out… but it was theirs. It was theirs and they loved it.

But Nick changed.

It was gradual at first, but zoning out quickly turned to unnecessary aggression, on duty as well as off duty. It even took Judy a while before noticing herself, and a little longer to ask Nick what was wrong. Sometimes, he would brush her off, denying that anything was wrong, other times he’d change the subject... sometimes he would even ignore her completely.

Judy prodded him for answers for weeks on end and made no progress. Nick had always been a closed door, but she would usually get him to open after a little . But not this time. This time, Nick was not only closed, but locked, deadbolted, and barricaded. Nick was getting worse and worse, and she wanted nothing more than to help him. But to do that, she needed to know what was going on, and he wasn’t opening up to her.

So she hired a private investigator. Probably a bad idea in retrospect. Terrible idea, but It made sense at the time. And within a few months, she got results.

Results she was completely paralyzed by. Results which made her relive that same scene in her bedroom when she was in high school. She REALLY needed to talk to him now.

Just then, she heard three taps on her door, followed by Nick’s voice. “Carrots? It’s Nick. Look, I need to talk to you about something.”

Judy pursed her lips and marched over to the door, swinging it open and crossing her arms.

Nick looked like a mess. His shirt was buttoned one button too low, his fur was tangled and in a matted mess, and his tie wasn’t even tied on correctly. He fired a half assed smirked in her direction and rubbed the back of his neck as he walked into her apartment.

“Look, I know I haven’t exactly been myself lately, and I know you noticed too. You asked me what was wrong, and I did nothing but shut you out.” He held up a paw and shook it in front of him. “I have a nasty habit of doing that, don’t I?”

Judy gave him nothing but scowling silence.

Nick tilted his head slightly. “What’s with the look?”

Judy’s eyes shot fire as she spat at Nick. “Who the hell are you, Nicholas Wilde?”

Nick squinted his eyes. “What? Judy, what’s this about?”

“Didn’t think I’d find out?”

“Find out about what?”

“THIS, Nick!” She thrust the photographs to Nick’s chest. Nick took them, puzzled as he thumbed through them, Each phototgraph, courtesy of Judy’s PI, featured Nick with a mystery... woman. A husky, actually. Slightly shorter than Nick, beautiful, well built... Essentially, the kind of mammal that would be more... suited to someone like Nick.

“Where the hell did you get these from?” Nick questioned.

“RJ Ringtail”

“Ringtail? The PI?” Nick sputtered. “You had me FOLLOWED? What the hell, Judy!?”

“Well, what was I supposed to do?!” Judy demanded. “It was clear something was bugging you. I was given limited information,so I did what I needed to do to get to the bottom of it! All I wanted to do was help you! Apparently, you were already helping yourself to something I couldn’t give you!”

Nick thrust a finger toward Judy. “Is that what you think is going on? Well, let me tell you...”

“It’s clear that’s what’s going on, Wilde!” Judy interrupted. She shoved her paws in her eyes and leaned her head back. “God, Nick! I can’t believe this! This is Quinn and high school all over again!”

“Quinn?” Nick asked, confused. “You mean…”

“Yes, Nick. That Quinn!” Her paws were balled up into fists and she just wanted to punch something. “You’re just like him!”

Nick sighed heavily and shut his eyes, scowling. Comparing him to Quinn, Judy’s high school sweetheart, ex boyfriend, certified asshat… It hurt a lot more than he let on. “Judy, if you’d just let me explain...”

“NO, Nick!” Judy screamed. “No more! These pictures tell me just enough.” She heaved many heavy sighs, on the verge of sobbing before she continued. “...I can’t do this again...”

Nick’s own enraged disposition suddenly melted. “Judy, what are you saying? Are we okay?”

Judy shook her head and turned her back to him. “There’s no ‘we’ anymore, Nick...” She muttered. “We’re through. I’m done.”

All she heard was Nick’s own shuddering gasps as he struggled to find the words. “Judy, please, let me explain...”

“I DON’T WANT TO HEAR IT! JUST GO!”

She kept her back to him. She couldn’t bear to face him now. Things were silent, except for the labored breathing from both parties. Seconds of silence turned to minutes, and she spun around, only to find Nick gone, and her front door neatly closed.

For a few seconds, she stared at the door, and simply couldn’t feel anything, as though the adrenaline from the earlier event left her numb. Then, all at once, it hit her like a cement mixer. One second, she was bravely staring down her closed the door, the next she was a pathetic huddled mess on the floor, heaving gasps as her own sobs suffocated her.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid!” She whispered to herself as she smacked herself in the head with her fist as she condemned herself for letting this happen to her again. She should have thought better than to become involved with an ex-con artist, reformed or not. The dates, the smiles, the sidelong glances, the smirk… the kiss… it was all a lie. And she fell for it all over again.

Work was probably going to be really awkward from now on.

[ntrending]

One cave's losing battle against a deadly bat fungus

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One cave's losing battle against a deadly bat fungus

I’m somewhere around 40 stories down when it hits me just how much we’ve lost. I am inching through tight cavern rocks on my stomach, hitting my (thankfully helmeted) head each time I give into instinct and attempt to look up. The cave ceiling is very close to the cave floor. The spelunkers winnowing their bodies through these sinuous crevices are likely the only vertebrates in this cave system. But just a decade ago, it was home to thousands of bats.

They’re all gone now, apart from five long-eared bats that flit in occasionally. The other bats—mostly little brown bats—were wiped out by a fungus, Pseudogymnoascus destructans. We can’t see the fungus that causes white-nose syndrome lining the rocky walls, but we have it on good authority that wading through the Pennsylvanian cave’s muck has left us covered in the stuff.

I take a deep breath and wonder if Pseudogymnoascus destructans is inside me, innocuously mixing with the bacteria, viruses, bacteriophages and other fungi that form my lung’s microbiome. Unlike the bats, I can take it. The fungus doesn’t seem to affect humans. It’s around then that I realize this cavernous world has become liminal, a place of transition between the old world—where you could see bats darken the sky at sunset as they fled—and this new world, where some species of bats have been wiped out entirely.

As far as anyone can figure, it was cavers who brought Pseudogymnoascus destructans to the United States. They inadvertently introduced the pathogen to a cave in Eastern New York State sometime in the early 2000s, though the first documented case was in the winter of 2006.

White-nose syndrome is now in 31 states and five Canadian provinces, moving south and east and petering out towards the Midwest. This year, though, it popped up in the Texas panhandle, and for reasons nobody understands managed to leapfrog into Oregon. It could be that bats lviing between the outbreaks aren’t getting sick, or it could be that nobody is finding them. Only time will tell.

Pseudogymnoascus destructans kills insidiously. Of the 47 bat species that call the United States home, more than half hibernate to survive the winter, when the insects that they depend on for food become scarce. Hibernation allows the bats to enter a deep slumber and live off of their fat stores. Many, including the little brown bat, huddle together in the warm areas of caves. But this pattern of behavior only hastens white-nose syndrome’s spread. The habitual huddling for warmth allows the pathogen to pass from bat to bat, and provides the perfect temperature for the fungus to grow. As Pseudogymnoascus destructans spreads across a bat’s body, it wakes up, either to clean the fungus off or because it’s having trouble staying warm. Every time a bat wakes during winter hibernation, however, its body stores dwindle, leading to dehydration, starvation, and usually death.

Nine American bat species are confirmed to have white-nose syndrome. For reasons that aren’t clear, some bats don’t get sick from the fungus. The bats that do get sick include the Big Brown bat, the Eastern Small-footed bat, the endangered Gray bat, the endangered Indiana bat, the threatened Northern Long-eared bat, the Yuma bat, the Southeastern bat, and the Tri-colored bat. But the decimation of the little brown bat seems especially heart wrenching.

There’s the fact that little brown bats are adorable. As their name suggests, they are little, with a maximum body height of around four inches and a peak weight of roughly half an ounce. They fit in the palm of your hand. And little brown bats are ubiquitous—or at least they used to be. Before white-nose syndrome, they were the most common bat in North America. Their deaths visibly loosen the bonds that keep our ecosystem together.

While bats in other parts of the world dabble with fruit and blood, bats in the United States are insectivorous—they eat bugs. There isn’t much data to back up a frequently stated claim that bats can eat 1,000 mosquitoes an hour, but they do seem to help keep the number of nuisance insects in check. Studies suggest that the mere presence of bats seems to cut down on the number of mosquitoes. At the same time, bats chow down on a number of agricultural pests like corn ear moths, and spotted cucumber beetles. And because bats flit from plant to plant as they collect insects, they also spread pollen, which means they pollinate our crops alongside bees and butterflies. As these bats die off, we lose the services they provide to the ecosystem; the ways they help farmers.

To humans, bats can seem like elusive creatures. Our eyes don’t see as well in the dark, making the nocturnal animal difficult to spot during the times they’re most active. The window in which we can most easily see bats is narrow—in the fading light of sunset when they depart their domiciles and in the dwindling darkness around sunrise as they return. So for many, the fact that white-nose syndrome has killed more than 6 million bats in the Northeast and Canada alone is all too easy to ignore.

The deaths weren’t the fault of those first cavers—not exactly. Nobody knew that a fungus powerful enough to wipe out a cave’s worth of bats was at play. And it took a while for people to catch on, with the fungi meanwhile leaping from commercial cave to commercial cave, carried by unwitting visitors. Even protected caves weren’t safe: once the disease started spreading, the bats brought the fungus in on their fur.

“The season of 2009-2010 is when we started getting ready for this,” says Lisa Hall, the director of case studies at Laurel Caverns Geological Park (where I’m currently mucking about in Hopwood, Pennsylvania). That year, when they’d had their highest bat count—some 2,500 bats of six different species—researchers at the Pennsylvania Game Commission told them that the disease had begun migrating out of New York State, and they should start to be concerned about white-nose syndrome.

“The owner David Kale, when we had our first talk and we realized this was coming, I will never forget the look he gave me,” says Hall. “Just kind of a look of hopelessness. Our bats were going to die.”

But they had to try. They stopped most of the tours into the deeper portions of the caves where the bats tended to congregate—the portions I crawled through and contemplated.

“That was a surprise to everybody, because Laurel Caverns have been open for a long, long time,” says Hall.

For the tours to the shallower parts of the caves, they placed a pad with a bleach solution for visitors to shuffle through, in effect disinfecting their shoes to emphasize the protection of the bats. They handed out pamphlets explaining how to properly sanitize caving equipment. The state Game Commission even erected nets over the mouth of the cave after the bats entered for hibernating season. Because white-nose syndrome rouses infected bats from sleep, they were afraid that sick bats from other caves might wake up and fly over.

But all of these efforts were like trying to patch a leaky raft with bubble gum; they’ll work, but only to a point. The most visited caves were the first ones to take ill.

“But the fact that Laurel Caverns didn’t get it first, the fact that it went to some natural caves south of us here and then worked its way up here, is some evidence that maybe what we did worked a little bit,” says Greg Turner, a mammalogist with the Pennsylvania Game Commission. It’s possible they successfully kept humans from tracking the pathogen in on their clothes, he says. “But it was inevitable that it was going to come via the bats.”

And white-nose syndrome did come. In 2009, they counted 2,500 bats; in 2011, they counted 25. In 2012, they counted five. If we had shimmied through the cavern in 2009, the year before white-nose made its way here, we would have seen bats throughout our expedition. But the only signs of life these days are humans, along with the fungi and bacteria that shimmer in the light of our headlamps. You can’t disinfect a cave, so Pseudogymnoascus destructans is here to stay.

The news isn’t all bleak. Increasingly, the bats that have survived infection seem to be adjusting their behaviors to put up a bit of a fight. Turner says that some of them appear to be picking hibernation locations that are in the cooler range of their comfort zone—the fungus doesn’t grow as well in colder temperatures.

There’s hope that the bats in places where the pathogen has taken hold might learn to adapt, but researchers are also working hard to curb its spread. It’s work that we will chronicle this week—the fourth annual Bat week—as we dive deep into the life of the world’s only flying mammal.

Written By Kendra Pierre-Louis