#ishmet

[redux-iterum]

I was looking through the list of prefixes and suffixes, and I had a few questions about the -leap suffix. Since it's given via fish based behaviour, is it most often given to Riveclan cats because they generally have more of an opportunity to observe fish behaviour and draw connections between their clanmates? For example, what would a Salmonleap, Minnowleap or Lampreyleap generally behave like? Also, I wasn't sure whether Tadpole- would count as a fish-based prefix to some uneducated cats because if someone didn't know they were really baby frogs. Is that common knowledge throughout the clans, or just Shadowclan and Riverclan? Because, really, it's kind of crazy to imagine for someone who hasn't heard of anything like it before. "See that little wriggling fish down there? One day, it's gonna grow legs and crawl right out of the water!" On that same train of thought, would Riverclanners or Shadowclanners be more inclined to try and pull pranks on gullible cats from other clans on what fish do? (The same way Australians tell everyone that dropbears are real and you have to put toothpaste in your hair and forks behind your ears because American accents piss them off) Like, "Oh yeah, tadpoles turn into frogs and catfish sometimes crawl up onto land and turn into cats who we let join our clan. Why do you think they're called Catfish?" (even if they aren't directly called 'catfish' in feline!) And their clanmate just nods along, "Yep, it's true, I was a catfish once. All my kits hatched from eggs." I can imagine some poor sap through a series of misunderstandings being named Tadpoleleap in Windclan or Thunderclan, their name gets some chuckles out of their amphibious neighbours during a gathering, however unlikely such a mistake may be!

For the first question: I do not define -step-based names. That's something for y'all to do! It's far more fun for you to figure it out yourself than have me read a Wikipedia page translated to a fanfic to you. I will say that Tadpole- definitely counts for -leap, and as soon as they can be considered a proper frog (getting out of the water and hopping around), then it goes to -step.

The Clans are all aware of the unusual development frogs go through. It doesn't surprise any of them, though it's fascinating to kits and newcomers who have never interacted with a frog before. There have been a couple kits who try to keep track of one or a couple tadpoles and follow them as they grow up, but it's nearly impossible to do. There are a lot of little tadpoles out there.

As for pranks... the majority of jokes have to do with the ishmet, not any flesh-and-blood animals. WindClan and ThunderClan have very poor grasps on the concept of river spirits, and even ShadowClan doesn't have as much of their lore as RiverClan does. It's not rare for RiverClanners to tell stories about seeing one that looked like a glass otter, or being pulled into the river and nearly drowned because the spirits thought it would be funny. They escalate the stories a lot more with outsiders than they do each other, even though, technically, they're the only ones who care about the ishmet.

[everilde]

"To me, my mother and grandmother were like Goddesses, only far more beautiful and powerful; more-so than Yx'Maja Herself. As a child I once told my mother this, but she only pinched my ears."

Yenra Ishnu was born Ishmet. When she left Fanow, she chose the name Yenra after her grandmother, Yenranna, and Ishnu as a nod to her birthname and mother.

[thekosovaassignment]

Celebrating life

~ Onn Ibrahim, Special Correspondent, Mission of Hope & Mercy

Rrasa e Zagut, Koshare, Kosovo, June 5, 1999 –– Arlinda Avdimetaj became two years today and her father, a doctor with the regular army of Ushtria Clirimtare e Kosoves (UCK) the local name for Kosova Liberation Front or KLA, which is popularly used by the media, smiled broadly.

The UCK medic team having a light chat with us.

He was sitting on an exposed single-bed foam mattress and his mattress covered the stingy pines of the dried branches and stalk of the pine tree, very common in these mountainous regions, and used in superfluous quantities to cover the earth-laden bunker top on which he and I, Khairul Anuar Khalid, a project director and relief humanitarian aid worker based in Sarajevo, Bosnia, and Urhan Berisha, a medic soldier, was resting. All of us were well exposed to Serb snipers, should they want to take a shot, but I imagine they were all used to this that it didn’t matter to them anymore.

The head of the UCK medic team with his doctors and Khairul Anuar, a volunteer relief agency from Malaysia based in Sarajevo.

They all had a death wish; that somehow, they didn’t have to "rest" or take their afternoon sojourn on the top of the makeshift, logged-supported medical bunker, where below it was gruesome, because on some days, blood flowed easily.

A photo of the medical inventory so Khairul is able to determine the medic team’s requirement.

Another photo of the type of medicine that the medic team had requested from Khairul Anuar.

Berisha is a final year medical student who left his university to volunteer to serve with UCK.

But he was smiling, and I was anxious to ask him why. He hadn’t seen his daughter since they parted company more than two months ago. When they parted, it was because he elected to go and join the UCK, and he felt it was his duty to do so. From the moment I saw this doctor, I liked him, because he had a sweet smile, and I could not imagine which girl would not want to be him. He was also extremely handsome, and his eyes exuded a warm twinkle; he also tended to have watery eyes, more so when we discussed about home and family but his warm and casual manners, even though we could not speak directly but through an interpreter, made me feel relax. If I had a doctor and my children wanted to see a doctor, I would like them to see Dr Ishmet.

Beyond the door is Kosovo where the front-line is and where we would be heading.

Dr Ismet, 31, hadn’t had any war experience. He was from a small village called Dachund, somewhere in the south of Kosovo, and he had fled through the mountains to arrive at Morine, a border outpost of northern Albania, where refugees like him could still be seen streaming in. During my time with him, in the absence of my interpreter I could sense that Dr Ishmet could really be a good father and husband. He certainly was a confident and cool doctor as I had earlier witnessed how he attended to an injured soldier. I wanted him to live, I wanted to pray for him. This brave doctor from Kosovo.

Burial boxes for the dead draped in UCK’s colours; in Islam, the fighters who engage in battle with their enemy and die are considered martyrs. Martyrs are rewarded with automatic entry to Heaven according to the teachings of Islam.

We were called to lunch by Uran Berisha who was given a nickname, "medical student" because he was in his final year of examinations before he decided to join the KLA.

Uran had prepared for us a meal consisting of bread, white cheese, pickled pepper, and broth. We ate heartily as this wasn’t a place to complain about food. The people here, I know, ate once a day, and I also knew that this was not a usual meal. This was a meal which they prepared –– albeit the same recipe –– just for us, the guests from Malaysia, with Khairil Anuar Khalid and Klodian, an Albanian interpreter-cum-driver-cum-guide-cum-bodyguard.

Was it a strange coincidence that when I mentioned to Uran about my prior trip to visit a Bosnian settlement in Slovenia, he asked whether I had met his friend, and strangely enough, it was the same friend who had picked me up at Ljubljna airport, and I became his guest for two nights? 

Sometime before we begin our walk toward the front-line where we would join a UCK force at the next garrison, we were served lunch. Lunch in Islamic tradition is usually served on one plate, and everybody tucks in. One of the mercenaries is seen scooping pickled local pickled peppers while the other one, a mujahid, is assisting him.

I couldn’t think about prayers at about this time. For Muslim travellers or wayfarers, this could be postponed to another time of prayer, and I could then pray two prayers, truncated for each, in one go. It was a convenience granted by God for wayfarers like me, and while I was dipping my bread in the delicious broth –– it tasted like meat –– I couldn’t thank Him well enough because it was a pleasure and delightful experience to be eating with these army medics and soldiers. I noticed the medics and soldiers were watching us intently. Were we odd ourselves, wearing heavy grenade-proof jackets over our flimsy T shirts, did we take their turn because lunch was served four at one time on the same aluminum containers, were they hungry and salivating, or was it their first meal in the last 24 hours? I don’t know. What I knew was that during the entire course of our meal, they were just simply watching us.

After lunch, Captain Hassan from the Moroccan army, a mujahid mercenary, gave a pep talk about what to expect at the frontlines.

How I wished I could talk to them in between slurps of broth and gesticulating and chewing with my mouth full of cheese and bread. How I wished I could share with them chocolates. But I didn't have any. Wouldn’t it be wonderful to have a picnic together?

It was during this briefing that I began to sense the meaning of danger.

I guess, it was an odd sight for these army non-regulars. Mostly conscripts, as they were civilians a few weeks ago, they looked like usual people you and I meet in the streets, offices, or homes. That they were at the front line was not an anomaly. War had come to them. They were forcibly dislodged from their homes, villages, and country. They were expelled, evicted, not evacuated, and along the way they were harassed, beaten, captured, tortured, raped, or killed. They are the people called Kosovars. Their mistake was that they belonged to that identity. It was a good reason for their enemies to attack them.

A group shot with some of the international mercenaries who came from Sweden, Macedonia, Morocco, Sudan, Saudi Arabia, and Chechnya.

And yet, when I looked at them while I sipped the broth from the same aluminum container which Dr Ishmet was sharing with me, I noticed that they didn’t take any form of a soldier. They seemed tame, demure, and may be naïve for a soldier. Most certainly, they didn’t fit into our normal stereotypical profile of a soldier, or a mercenary: they appeared harmless and peaceful. The distinguishing factor, I thought then, was that when they walked or when they stood upright, they didn’t look like soldiers. In fact, they were students, farmers, construction workers, investment bankers, doctors, engineers, and even a driver. Among them, in fact, was a girl, I imagine about 15 years old, who was so shy that when I wanted to take a picture of them as a group, she rose and left. And these are KLA fighters?

Captain Hassan indicating one God.

The last time they had seen a foreigner was a day before, when a German journalist had come in. But he hadn’t stop by at this first aid medical bunker: he had come in briefly and he had left. Besides, as I found out later, he wasn’t a photojournalist like me, and he didn’t carry any cameras. As far as they knew, I was the first journalist to come into this area with a camera. And, they had never seen a photojournalist coming from our part of the world, that is Asia.

We made our way toward the garrison post where a four-wheel truck is seen. This shall be our vehicle to transport us to the front-line. The truck was only recently seized from a Serbian bunker.

So our presence, Khairil Anuar included, was something of an abnormality, but we were already sufficiently warmed up for the experience: first there was a shell fired laterally from a Serb artillery position across a small opening in the mountain (the shell landed just about ten meters away, this was our welcome greeting to Papaj); second, as we left the commander’s post, our own position received another shell; third, as we were sitting and sipping hot coffee from emptied jam bottles in an area of a special unit of the KLA, we found out that the second shell which came after us as we were driving in, hit a lone soldier walking through the same road we were taking, and he died.

A group of UCK soldiers were already at the garrison.

It was no wonder then that just as we arrived and parked our car, a bunch of medics (we didn't know it then) had jumped into a white four-wheel drive Japanese-make vehicle and was making their way hurriedly to the soldier. It was too late, I heard later. He died instantly.

We climbed into the truck and headed toward our destination. In the picture is Khairul Anuar and a UCK doctor.

"Mashaa-Allah!," (All Glory to Allah) I cried while sitting across a chair made of two logs joined together and balanced on two pillars of stone, such that the first person must sit in the middle, followed by the rest on either sides, to create an equilibrium lest you fall over because the logs weren’t fixed to the stones and you would tumble if you sat at the wrong point because of the see-saw effect. "You mean, we could have been killed?"

The captured Serbian truck that would transport us to the front-line: where there was word of intense fighting.

Nobody cared to answer me. Everyone in the group just looked their own way. None cared to look me in the eyes. I guess, that’s how it is. One minute you are in existence, another minute or another second you could be.... well, I remembered what Khairul Anuar told me once while we were making our way for the first time to the commander’s camp. "I found half a body, some fingers (fingers only?), and he couldn’t finish his sentence because I interrupted him." "That’s what happens when a shell drops?" And he replied "yes" while looking straight ahead behind the headrest of the front passenger, Rejab, a bodyguard we had hired for the trip.

Klodiane spotted a hole near the truck. This showed how the post was also under attack occasionally with mortar fire. In other words, if you are unlucky, you could be hit and dead.

Klodiane picked up a piece of the broken bullet shell -- a shrapnel. It is enough to shatter you instantly, he said.

He didn’t want to say more. The scene where a shell had dropped and exploded in the middle of a market square in Sarajevo was too vivid, too close, too real. We dropped the subject and I continued reciting ayat kerusi (a special verse in the Koran which has protective incantations) while we meandered our way to the top of the mountain where Papaj was located. The sounds of shells reverberating in the air made our journey precipitous. How could one escape anything here? On one side, there was a sheer drop of more than one thousand feet of boulders and outcrops. On another side, there were hanging cliffs and loose earth. The only way is to keep moving, and fast (on mountain roads that is) at about twenty kilometers an hour. Slower than that, we were sitting ducks for the Serb snipers. We knew we were never safe. How does one deal with death in a situation like that?

We began our journey: Rejab, our bodyguard and now, co-driver, sat in front with the UCK truck driver. He wanted to observe the controls of this captured Serb truck.

I remembered, did somebody had to die for us while we escaped? Was this some sort of a message from God? I had read somewhere that life revolves around a concept called, "reckoning". What it means –– at least to my understanding –– is that when God wants you to live another moment, somebody else had to die in your place. Did somebody sacrifice his life to spare us? Was what I was facing merely coincidental? Or was it reckoning? I could and would never know.

About one hundred metres from the font-line, the medic team stopped at a former Serb bunker. The Serbian army was pushed out about one week ago. The team was instructed to wait from the Commander at the front-line whom I shall be meeting for the first time.

I thought it a bit strange, eerie, even surreal that I was to survive three attempts on our lives within such a brief period. I calculated that by the time we left Pardashe, KLA’s command post in the area closest to the combat zone, we were in the hot zone (area of conflict and shelling), for less than 6 hours. It was also strikingly odd that while we were sitting and chatting and laughing with the KLA soldiers and officers, no shells dropped around us, although they were flying everywhere and from a distant you could see where they landed. Miraculously none, landed near us.

Dr Time was communicating with the Commander with a satellite phone. We waited for the order to arrive to the front-line. A UCK soldier was guarding the place. Khairul decided to look around in the meanwhile and wanted to see the Serb’s army bunker.

The fact that one of the shells also landed near our position while we were waiting for our papers to be cleared and to be granted special privilege by the commander’s office, was even more puzzling. We were gone for less than fifteen minutes before a soldier came to report that our position was shelled. In fact, he said, a car where a pair of Slovenian reporters were traveling in also got another hit, close to where we were sitting, and shattered part of the car.

Khairul was filming the surrounds as part of his humanitarian and relief efforts. I wanted to see inside the bunker and walked in. The UCK soldier warned me that it was dark.

Amazing? Not when you believe in God and what he could do for you. Call it supreme faith, superior confidence, absolute determination, I believed our passage to Pardashe and then to Papaj and finally to Rrass where a Serb soldier could be seen within one hundred meters away was a divine mission of mercy. For the theme of my mission, and the intention of my mission was a mission of mercy and hope or in Albanian language, misioni i mNshirNs dhe shpresNs.

The entrance to the bunker.

I walked into the bunker and was immediately blinded: it was pitch dark, so I turned toward the entrance for some light to switch my Nikon camera for another one which has a built-in flash.

But for others, I suppose, it was deliberate kamikaze!

It was so dark that the only way for me to photograph the interior of the bunker was to use flash. I noticed immediately the hurried exit of the last army force here: Everything seemed to be left behind.

There were also automatic rifles that were left by the previous occupants.

For the moment, however, it was pure bliss and mercy to me, as I heard Dr Ishmet describe his daughter and his wife, I could almost see my children and wife too. He also knew that. That was why he was smiling.

I stumbled across a sheet of paper and noticed twenty-three names of the Serb Army regulars who were holed in this bunker: along with a transistor radio and backpack. The language scrawled next to the names are Serbian language when I asked Khairul who knows a little bit about the language since he studied in Russia.

The UCK medic team.

End

[iol247]

Media24 to pay Barend du Plessis R3m settlement over claims in 'The Lost Boys of Bird Island'

In a statement released on Tuesday evening, CEO Ishmet Davidson, on behalf of Media24, extended an unreserved and sincere apology to Du Plessis and his family as well as to the families of former ministers Magnus Malan and John Wiley for the harm caused by the allegations contained in the book.

https://www.news24.com/SouthAfrica/News/media24-to-pay-barend-du-plessis-r3m-settlement-over-claims-in-the-lost-boys-of-bird-island-20200428

[wexcel]

Naspers shuts down yet another venture in Nigeria

Naspers shuts down yet another venture in Nigeria

By March 2019, Naspers will be shutting down yet another one of its companies in Nigeria, Careers24 Nigeria, which has been operating in the job-listing market since 2014.

Careers24 operates under one of Naspers’ subsidiaries — Media24. The reason for the decision according to Media24 CEO, Ishmet Davidson is that the company is yet to gain the expected tractionsince its entry into the Nigerian…

[myshitblogger-blog]

New CEO for Media24 as Weideman announces retirement

New CEO for Media24 as Weideman announces retirement

[ad_1]

Publishing veteran Ishmet Davidson will take over as CEO of Media24 on October 1 after Esmaré Weideman announced her retirement from the company on Tuesday.

A former political journalist and editor of You and Drum, Weideman held the CEO position of Africa’s largest media company for almost eight years.

Media24, a fully-owned subsidiary of global tech and e-commerce company Naspers [JSE:N…

[redux-iterum]

What's each Clan's idea of a fun time?

Well, every Clan absolutely loves storytime. It's the best way to keep their culture alive, and it's entertaining on a boring, cold night. Outside of that, it varies.

RiverClan is all about the arts, including poems, but besides that, fishing contests are a great deal of fun. Apprentices sometimes play the game of who can catch the smallest minnow, or throw trinkets into the water to try and attract an ishmet and get it to help pull a prank on their Clanmate. Really, anything to do with the river is a great time to them. They love it intensely.

ShadowClan doesn't usually have a whole lot of time for fun, given that they have to be out hunting and scavenging quite a lot, but when they get to experience downtime, they like to stargaze and wax philosophical with each other. Snail shells are often collected for kits to play with, and some warrior get enjoyment out of just watching them knock empty shells around and squeak questions about the world to their seniors. Observation, I'd say, is a good pastime for them.

WindClan likes to race, as if anyone's surprised by that. Other than their usual gimmick, sharing jokes that only they could possibly understand is fun too. Their brand of entertainment is stuff that keeps the community close together, like coming up with riddles as a group or swapping stories about the past. That said, they do like to sit quietly and just enjoy each other's company. WindClan doesn't need to do a whole lot of talking to have a good time.

ThunderClan... they could do with learning how to enjoy time that isn't spent on border patrols or battle-training. They think that preparing for conflict is enjoyable. If they can't do that, they get restless - especially the apprentices and kits, who do a lot more wrestling and play-fighting than the other Clans' youngsters. I think their neighbors would look at their idea of fun and just stare in bafflement.

[redux-iterum]

Since we're on the topic of -heart cats, would you be able to share any info about the other Clan's cats who qualify for the suffix? It seems that RiverClan has the most with Pansyheart and Dawnheart which I thought was very interesting, though Wind and Shadow have Roeheart and Flyheart respectively. I'm so interested in the naming system of the rewrite! Keep up the amazing work! ♡

I haven't taken the time to mull over most of the allegiances' background cats, just because I have so many main ones to focus on, so I can't give a particularly satisfying answer here. Apologies for that! I'll do my best with some quick thoughts.

-heart cats are named for their firm morals and strong beliefs that are near impossible to shake them from. This can display itself in any manner it pleases - whether you're endlessly loving like Fireheart, or extremely dedicated to the code, or fiercely protect stories and folklore in the name of preserving history. So on and so forth. That means these cats could really have any personality we want for them.

I gave Pansyheart a pretty empathetic character in the one scene we've seen her in, so I feel like she's more sympathetic to outsiders of all kinds than the rest of her Clan; she's probably gotten in trouble before for tossing a fish to a skinny loner across their border. Dawnheart, I don't really know, but for fun, let's say she has a weirdly specific set of opinions on hunting in the water and insists gifts be given to the ishmet at every visit to the river, enough that her Clanmates tease her for it.

Roeheart and Flyheart? Not too sure on them either. A WindClan -heart would be just as flat and monotone as their Clanmates, but they may announce their decisions more than the rest and go against orders to do what they think is right. ShadowClan -hearts tend to be a little less sweet and polite than their Clanmates, possibly standing up to town cats a lot more and having controversial opinions. They're still seen as a positive, because ShadowClan greatly admires those who dedicate themselves to something they believe in and enjoy. Maybe Flyheart is the same!

[redux-iterum]

Does Graystripe ever think about his dream of the gray, overcast water, and the ishmet?

Like a fool, he forgot it happened - conveniently around the time he started seeing Silverstream. He had so many chances to step away, down to StarClan themselves telling him before it even happened, and he ignored all of them.

[everilde]

About Yenra

Name: Ishmet (born) | Yenra Ishnu (chosen) Race: Viis of Rak'tika Age: 30+ Jobs: Ninja | Dancer Hobbies: Hunting, flying (on gryphons), history, flirting (specifically with women), archery, killing sin eaters (I'm still fleshing hobbies out) Birthplace: Rak'tika Current Residence: Eulmore, but she travels Titles/Profession: The Dancing Flame | Dancer

As a child, Yenra watched her grandmother become a sin eater. This memory became a nightmare that drove her from the shadows of Rak’tika. She left Fanow with the full intent of hunting as many of the vile beasts down as she possibly could; doing her part to protect the village she was certain she’d never see again. She did not get far before she found herself in the debt of a man named Edric. Edric led a musical troupe in Eulmore and was looking for a dancer, a role which Yenra filled to repay her debt. With her goal set aside, she became little more than a seductive vision, a form of entertainment to the people of Eulmore. They called her the Dancing Flame. During the troupe’s rare visit to the Crystarium, Yenra met Everilde and taught her the beginnings of combative dancing; this meeting changed Everilde’s life going forward.

I also have a headcanon that ships Yenra with the Crystarium's Lyna (not my Elezen OC) and was writing a story about them at one time. I may post some of it in the future.

[redux-iterum]

What would each of the clans think of a goldfish pond in their territory? Would they eat out of it? Would they be weirded out by the shiny/colorful fish?

RiverClan would find these weird colorful fish to be absolutely dope and happily eat them as soon as they can be sure they aren't ishmet. ShadowClan may give them a try, but I don't think WindClan or ThunderClan would be interested beyond watching them swim around and be brightly colored. I can safely say that Koi- would become a popular prefix for patched cats of all kinds.

[redux-iterum]

Folklore: Ishmet

Translated as “River Spirit”.

A result of a bet between Mernatha and Suriin that went rather poorly, the Ishmet are a mischievous lot that live in bodies of water - though, like their name suggests, they are mostly found in the large river in RiverClan’s territory. They exist to amuse themselves, being designed after notable trickster Mernatha and her cheeky nature. Unlike her, they have not aligned themselves with the Clans, and see everyone as fair game for their shenanigans.

Descriptions vary for Ishmet - some are large as an otter, others are the size of a newborn kitten; there are those that look like sleek hounds, followed by something that could be a fish with legs, or could be a cat, if the cat had fins. Their forms are vaguely incoherent and very inconsistent. The only commonalities are the pale eyes and the somewhat translucent nature of their bodies, making it almost impossible to see them when they’re below the surface of water, unless one is looking very carefully. 

This plays into their love of chicanery very well; getting an animal to lean over the water to get a better view of the strange thing they just saw makes them a prime target for being pushed in. And that’s just the start of it! Ishmet adore getting the best of mortal, whether that be yanking away a piece of prey just as it’s about to be caught or spooking a wandering kit by snapping at the little thing’s face and then ducking back underwater, giggling to themselves as the kit wails and runs away. Everything in the world is meant to be toyed with and give an Ishmet a hearty laugh. Anyone pretending otherwise will have to be corrected with a prank or four. 

It is possible to make friends with the Ishmet, though they’re not the most loyal of allies. Presenting them with gifts such as fresh leaves with gossip whispered into them, trinkets from humans, or flowers only found inland is a popular luck-seeking pastime for RiverClan cats. It’s believed that if one’s gift sinks below the water after being released upstream is the sign that an Ishmet has taken it and will reward the giver with something valuable, usually prey or some interesting item that has been previously given before. Of course, as soon as one finds and tries to retrieve this item, it will be snatched away again. River spirits are river spirits, after all, and it’s funnier to dangle a prize in front of someone than to actually let them have it. 

[redux-iterum]

Folklore: The Mist

Mist and fog are odd concepts to the average animal. On certain days with no real rhyme or reason, the world is abruptly hidden by a sheet of grey air that can easily be walked through but makes seeing things ahead of oneself incredibly difficult, as if trying to walk through a tree. Birds tend to believe that a cloud has fallen from the sky and is crawling along the ground, trying to keep up with its fellows. However, wingless animals are usually unable to get a clear view of the entirety of the mist, leading to everyone having a different idea of what it actually is. 

Clan cats have a theory localized to their territories, though it’s considered a little farcical by other predators, and even by other cats. 

Similar in idea to a fairy ring and the land around it, the mist is believed to contain a menagerie of strange folk that no one quite knows how to describe. This may be due to the fact that they make a point of appearing like vague shadows in the shape of things that no one has seen before. Cousins to the ishmet, the river spirits, these beings exclusively live in the mist and move with it as it wanders the territories. There is no proper, standard name for them - they simply are, and there is no point in labeling them if one can’t get a good look and they don’t appear to do any harm. 

Where do they come from, and what happens to them when the sun warms the earth and the mist disappears? No one is entirely sure. The real question is what the mist itself is. Some stories say that it’s a kind of doorway to “somewhere else”, but this is a concept that can be difficult to comprehend for Clan cats because it isn’t an afterlife (the only abstract, invisible “somewhere else” they’re familiar with) or another physical location one could just walk to. Other tales disregard that entirely and claim that the mist is simply a hiding place for spirits of trickery and chaos, and that the spirits go back into hiding as soon as the mist fades away. Neither version is particularly comforting to a simple mortal warrior who would like to stay where they are and unbothered.

That’s not to say the mist is inherently evil. It’s a thing of mystery and confusion for many, but it’s rare that a cat dies because of it. Something odd may show up, but one is safe once the sun is visible in the sky. Apprentices and young warriors are simply taught to be careful, keep their ears and eyes open, and perhaps take a friend with them if they’re to travel away from the safety of camp. 

[redux-iterum]

Mythology and Folklore

MONSTERS

Yrrun

Her

Terror

The Empty

Wraiths

Titans

FOLK HEROES

Petalfall

Thorn

Brighteyes

OTHER

Thlainra

Ishmet

Mist

Theful

Crows

[nehalneeta]

Modern Tamil Baby Girl Names Starting with Letter l

Modern Tamil Baby Girl Names Starting with Letter l

Ishaan Ishat Ishayu Ishar Ishit Ishmet Idhant Iesa Inderveer Indrajit Inesh Iraj Irenpreet Ihsaan Ijay Ikram Ikshan

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[nehalneeta]

Popular Tamil Baby Boy Names Starting with Letter l

Popular Tamil Baby Boy Names Starting with Letter l

Ishaan Ishat Ishayu Ishar Ishit Ishmet Idhant Iesa Inderveer Indrajit Inesh Iraj Irenpreet Ihsaan Ijay Ikram Ikshan

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Sikh Girl Names with A

Meen Rashi Name girl Gujarati

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Kanya rashi Names Girl

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