#its been done before by many and i have some mentors to help distantly

[girlhorse]

I’m sure you’ve said it on your blog before, but do you groom Enzo yourself or does he go to a groomer?

I groom him myself (adequately). I'm slowly learning how to shave his paw pads & trim around his feet to the havanese standard. The only trimming allowed/expected is around paws to look neat & some of a sanitary trim, which i have shaved on him because otherwise he smells like p*ss. it's not noticeable from the sides.

He gets a bath every week to week and a half and i brush him as often as i can (trying for daily, but executive dysfunction) His coat could be better (as in, longer and more full) but we have so much sticks and burs this time of year it's causing his fur to have a lot of breakage on his tummy and legs. Not noticeable to a non discerning eye i think, though.

He's going through a coat change and his tangling has been worse/more frequent and i get quite a bit of hair off of him when I groom him but it's not a welfare issue or anything, just a pain in the butt!

I would like to get a groomer on board at some point, maybe once a month, if my financial situation ever improves. it would definitely help me manage his coat esp for the things im not quite skilled at yet. Id also like to meet a groomer that was like, happy to share grooming tips with me xD

[thunderc1an]

Po3 rewrite, Chapter 3:

Table of Contents | Chapter 2

Within days of the incident Hazelpaw’s apprenticeship was given to Brightheart to oversee, Mousepaw heard speculation that this was just for the time being and soon Hazelpaw would return to train under Spiderleg, but a half-moon had already passed, and this exchange has yet to happen. 

To think that he had not even noticed the state in which Hazelpaw was pushed into by her former mentor was very shameful on his part; and when he had formally apologized to Hazelpaw for said actions his littermate had simply laughed, and smiled, and then brushed the conversation into another area of interest.

“Mousepaw,” The apprentice was then pulled from his thoughts. The image of his mentor came into focus. “Now is not the right time to allow your mind to wander, please pay attention to the lesson” Brackenfur advised lightly and at this Mousepaw became shy with embarrassment, a good apprentice would be attentive to every word that came from their mentor’s jaw. “I’m sorry, sir”. The senior warrior shook his head gently with a rather bemused expression to his features. “We’ve been over this already, there is no need for the formalities, Mousepaw. To you I am your mentor, above the fact that I am the clan’s deputy.” 

With his statement Mousepaw was reminded in part of a few heated words that were spoken before the skirmish broke loose:

Any clan cat knows the bond between mentor and apprentice is deeper than that of blood.

“Sir?”

The smile on his mentor’s face had reluctantly grown in length.

“May I ask a question?”

The older tom nodded, moving to sit himself in a brightly lit patch of grass, for a moment Mousepaw had to squint as the golden pelt of his mentor glowed in the sun. The forest was relatively quiet this day and his ears could pick the soft sound of a mouse moving along in the undergrowth, or perhaps it was a squirrel, and he had thought wrong. “Is it true, that the bond between mentor and apprentice is deeper than blood itself?”

The clan deputy hummed thoughtfully, its pleasant tune echoed gingerly around him. After a few moments in what seemed like thoughtful contemplation Brackenfur spoke: “Well, yes, it is believed that the bond an apprentice has with their mentor should surpass the bond of family”. Mousepaw did have great care for his mentor but he wondered if he and the older tom would ever reach that point of familiarity, but then again, stronger than that of family? “Of course, not all those who mentor deserve the loyalty of their apprentice.” These words were spoken in a way that suggested his mentor’s apprenticeship was not the most pleasant one.

Curiosity got the better of Mousepaw and he pressed the conversation in that area wanting to know more. “Who was your mentor, are they still in Thunderclan?”

“No, not anymore. My first day as an apprentice would be the last day I would train under him; he simply fell in love with the secrets of the river.” The white apprentice’s ear flickered upon sensing a faint underlying bitterness to his mentor’s demeanor, one that had aged neatly without always showing itself. He knew there was a deeper meaning to what the senior warrior meant, but this time the young cat did not press further. “I no longer hold hostility towards him for in his absence I became the clan’s apprentice. The warriors of Thunderclan never discarded my training, they generously passed their knowledge and skill to me. Every Thunderclan cat, whether they sustain the title of warrior or monarch, I have learned from.” “Even Firestar?” Brackenfur chuckled, a low thing that was hoarse yet comforting, distantly, as he tucked the tune into the ends of his mind, he would assume this was how the laughter of a father should sound like. “Yes, even Firestar, as well as many cats that I have sadly outlived.” Who were those cats? Mousepaw could not help but wonder. Cats before his time, how were their stories written and what were they like? “Mousepaw, I may be your mentor but I wish for you to learn from every cat in Thunderclan. A warrior can have the talent to defeat those who are bigger than they may be but a true clan cat will come to understand the beauty of each and every one of their clanmates and appreciate it”. “How did you learn to appreciate it?” He asked shyly rather awed by the wisdom the older cat carried with his person. “Me?” Brackenfur asked before an even brighter smile lit his features “You see a very special kit taught me so,”

And this stumped him, no matter how hard he thought about it Mousepaw could not make any sense of the explanation he was given, even as the pair had now made their way further into the lush territory, he still continued to think upon it. It was not necessarily a bother that he could not understand how a kit alone could teach Brackenfur such a compound subject, but instead he was fairly intrigued by it. Perhaps he should speak with the kits of Ferncloud once they come into this world. Maybe then he would learn to be a refined warrior of Thunderclan.

The white apprentice bent himself down to properly sniff a tuft of grass. “Mousepaw, what do you smell?” The young cat took a few heartbeats to decipher what he had just smelled as he straightened himself. It was something most definitely nasty. An odor that had made his nose crinkle with disgust. “Something icky,” and Mousepaw had wiped his nose with his paw to rid the scent that had stayed behind; it did not work.

“I want you to remember it well, Mousepaw. This is the smell of dog” 

“Is it still here?” He asked with fear gripping his words. He himself had never encountered a thing known as a ‘dog’ before but when he was just a small thing that could waddle his littermates and he would listen to the stories of the cats that had come to visit their little family within the nursery. Brightheart’s stories were the scariest in all the clan; she would tell stories of monstrous shadows that would gallop through the forest with teeth as big as young trees: dogs. The pair were far from camp but the scent was still within the territory, closer to that of the border Thunderclan shared with Shadowclan. “No, the smell is stale, but it is a matter that will be reported back to Firestar,” Brackenfur smiled kindly down at him “Just to be safe, one should never hesitate on matters such as these.” Mousepaw nodded, storing this newly given advice somewhere in the reaches of his mind.

“Well, well, well, look what we found here” A new voice made itself known and both toms’ heads turned to its source. Sorreltail emerged from the undergrowth, her dappled pelt camouflage her form well, she seemed to blend with a good number of shadows that surrounded them. Jaypaw was next to poke his head from the undergrowth, his large ears twitched and as the slender tom stepped forward, his long whiskers brushed against every plausible surface that was within reach. “Sorreltail, Jaypaw, what a surprise” The deputy greeted, having dipped his head. “Likewise, good Brackenfur, Mousepaw,” The she-cat meowed pleasantly, and a look was shared between the older warriors.

“So, Jaypaw and I just finished with our own activities, would it be any trouble if we were to join your little party?”

“Not at all, I see no problem with this, do you Mousepaw?” and the apprentice in question shook his head. Jaypaw was quick to voice his opinion however: “Do we have to?” the young dark grey cat bemoaned, “We’ve had no fun today, it’s just been lessons after lessons” Mousepaw looked to see Sorreltail’s reaction, Jaypaw was only some moons younger than him but he’d never dare to speak to his mentor in such a tone or manner. But, the molly wore a kind expression, one filled with affection at the other apprentice’s actions; the way she looked was close to motherly. “I see nothing wrong with having a break, Scruffy.” She meowed, “Actually, you’ve done well today so let’s just end class here. Mousepaw, could you take Jaypaw back to camp?” The white apprentice perked at his name and then quietly looked to his mentor for approval. Brackenfur opened his mouth, surely to say something on this matter, but with the way Sorreltail rose her brow at him the deputy was quick to push it aside with a heavy sigh, he smiled, “Go on Mousepaw, you boys get back to camp, alright?” The pair nodded, then turned to leave, and as they left they heard the friendly chatter of the older cats.

Now well within the heart of Thunderclan Jaypaw and Mousepaw had begun to make some small talk. They should have done some hunting, the forest was alive and full of prey, but both cats had done well in their lessons this morning and they really did deserve a much needed break. “Like I said, I would much rather have you as my littermate than have Lionpaw as my brother.” Jaypaw huffed aloud and Mousepaw sheepishly smiled, “I’m sure it’s not that bad, he seems like a good cat,” The white apprentice meowed, having made an attempt to defend his clanmate.

“Oh please Mousepaw, you’re always too kind, don’t give my brother so much praise it might somehow inflate his already large ego” and Mousepaw could not help himself by laughing at this statement. So much for trying to defend his clanmate. It was true however, Lionpaw’s ego, when it showed itself, could rival no other cat. Yet Mousepaw had no real quarrel with it or with the apprentice themselves, for Lionpaw was a strong and very skilled individual, even for his young age. As long as Lionpaw could continually beat every apprentice in Thunderclan then the red tom could keep his pedestal, it was well earned in Mousepaw’s eyes. Though, Berrypaw certainly did not think this way. His own littermate would wine and moan that Honeypaw would never think he was the coolest cat out there if he kept on losing to a cat that was younger than he was. Perhaps Mousepaw could kindly ask Lionpaw to go easy on his brother during their next sparring session, surely it would be a blessing upon his ears if that love-sick dolt were to shut his-

Jaypaw laughed and Mousepaw blinked from his thoughts, not having expected the sound. His brows were raised in question, not knowing what Jaypaw had found funny, the pair had just walked a good number of paw steps in comfortable silence. 

“Oh,” Jaypaw’s head turned away from his line of sight in a shy manner, “Sorry, I was thinking about something funny,” Mousepaw flushed with embarrassment at the small misunderstanding, he apologized, but the awkward atmosphere had already hung itself over the pair. How silly of him, they were almost back at camp but Mousepaw wished to keep talking with Jaypaw; just a little longer nothing wrong with that, but his selfishness was a rather small part of him, it was not strong enough to ask if possibly they could idle longer. Additionally, with the delicate silence that had been created it was rather hard to strike up a conversation.

“Mousepaw?”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t want to head back to camp, yet. That’s too boring, let’s go have some fun before we return,”

Mousepaw smiled, “Ok”.

[bellringermal]

«She fancied Gehrman, unaware of his curious "mania", but was left heartbroken when Gehrman couldn't, or wouldn't, reveal his feeling towards her.» WTF, fextralife?!

Thank you fextralife! ~♡No okay let’s be serious for a second and put aside my fangirl heart that craves for the damn romance and let’s look at the facts, shall we?

Let’s begin with the Hair Ornament and how the Doll reacts to it.

The item is described as “ordinary” and does look as such. This is not something fit for a woman of noble lineage like Maria is, is the sort of gift that a middle-class Yharnamite would give his fiancee. In fact, I would say that the Red Jewelled Brooch that Gascoigne gave to his wife looks way fancier and in line with what a Cainhurst noble would wear than the plain, ordinary hair ornament.

Giving little tokens of affection before the marriage was a no-no for Victorian lovebirds unless the couple openly expressed the intention to get married and both families agreed to the arrangement.

In Sense and Sensibility by Jane Austen, Marianne Dashwood’s spontaneous behaviour is considered unorthodox and her (only rumoured!) clandestine engagement with John Willoughby is heavily frowned upon. One of her biggest ‘sins’ was to have sent John a bunch of letters and locks of her hair that the young man respectfully gives back to her before marrying another woman.

So, if we take for granted that Yharnam’s courtship customs are similar to those of the 19th century’s I think it’s safe to assume that if an unmarried man gave something as cute and personal as a hairpin to an unmarried woman he was clearly saying “hey babe I like you. But I haven’t the slightest idea of what I’m doing and I should’ve finish that “how to pick up fair maidens” book before doing anything on my own” :P

Of course, we can’t take Victorian society and expect Yharnam’s to be exactly the same because of all the obvious differences such as the clearly more prominent role of women in society, (Amelia is the highest authority of the Church, many hunters are women, Viola, though traditionally married, takes instant action to help her husband etc) but I still think it to be a good lens through which seeing the game’s world and it surely gives some extra credit to Gehrman’s conscious decision to hide his feelings from Maria.

Now, on the subject of Plain Doll, if we gave her the Hairpin she says this:

What… what is this? I-I can’t remember, not a thing, only… I feel… A yearning… something I’ve never felt before… What’s happening to me? Ahh… Tell me hunter, could this be joy? Ahh…

And as she speaks, they even took the time to actually animate her so that she would wipe her tears and gave us the Tear Stone:

Now, the dialogue itself is enough for me to say that Maria had feelings for Gehrman because there’s _no way_ that mere admiration and/or respect for the guy would make her surrogate, who only shares a few, blurred memories with her, cry tears of joy. But hey, we could say that since Plain Doll was “made” to love her creator her perception could be warped by what Gehrman wants her to feel towards him. So, let’s read what the lore has to say about this ;) let’s turn the Tear Stone into a Blood Gem!

Created from a shining silver doll tear, this blood gem is a quiet but unfaltering friend that continually restores HP, the life essence of a hunter. Perhaps the doll’s creator had wished for just such a friend, albeit in vain

BOOM! “Albeit in vain”… and here it is why I think Gehrman doesn’t talk to/doesn’t care about and is openly dismissive of the Doll. She is not the woman he used to know but a pale imitation. She doesn’t have Maria’s memories, she is nothing like the hunter that fought by his side, the strong and kind woman he secretly fell in love with. Before Moon Presence brought the Doll to life, Gehrman poured love and care into her creation that most likely happened after Maria’s passing. All item descriptions related to the Doll include this bit:

“A deep love for the doll can be surmised by the fine craftsmanship of this article, and the care with which it was kept.“ It borderlines on mania, and exudes a slight warmth.”

Which once again, reinforce my idea that my boi Gehrman cared for Maria not _just_ because she was hot. He doesn’t dress her up in revealing clothes nor does he keep her hunter attire while retaining elements of it such as the brooch and her boots. Maria killed herself after renouncing her life as a hunter, her conscience forever stained by what she and her teacher had done to the inhabitants of Fishing Hamlet. Dressing the doll in her hunter set would have been an even greater insult to her memory. Gehrman’s decision to dress her up in the seemly clothes of a respectable woman of the time is actually pretty tasteful if you ask me. May look strange and “unnecessary cute” to us modern-day players but that’s how women used to dress. Take a look at this picture of Mia Wasikowska’s in this movie adaptation of Jane Eyre. The reason why I pick this movie is its director, Cary Fukunaga who also directed the first season of the award-winning HBO series True Detective. (a show inspired by R.W Chambers and Lovecraft’s nihilism & cosmic dread.) This too is a pretty dark and spooky rendition of Charlotte Brontë’s classic.

But no more talking about Gehrman, let’s get back to Maria:

Among the first hunters, all students of Gehrman, was the lady hunter Maria. This was her hunter’s [cap/garb/gloves/trousers], crafted in Cainhurst. Maria is distantly related to the undead queen, but had great admiration for Gehrman, unaware of his curious mania.  [Maria’s Hunter Set]

This description tells us a lot of things, but most of them are irrelevant to the subject of this analysis. I could go on for hours pointing out the similarities of her set to the Knight’s and other Cainhurst fashion but let’s not do that. What matters here is that Maria, despite being of noble blood, had no social prejudice towards her mentor (and I would assume, any of her fellow hunters.) and, just like Gwyn’s firstborn, “had respect only for arms and nothing else” :P

I wouldn’t say that the reason why she was heartbroken was the fact that Gehrman never revealed his feelings to her (as mentioned in the ask) but that she idolized him and the cause of the Byrgenwerth Hunters as a whole and couldn’t bear the guilt once the college’s research pushed their actions too far. Like Ludwig who had an unshakable faith in the ways of the Healing Church, Maria had faith in and was possibly in love with Gehrman and couldn’t believe that the man she admired so deeply would blindly obey Byrgenwerth’s orders.

“Go and kill those fishmen who did nothing wrong and aren’t bothering anyone. Oh, and be sure to rip that umbilical cord from the body of thad Great One that washed ashore.”

“Yep.” No question asked.

THAT’s why Maria felt betrayed. It hasn’t anything to do with Gehrman’s “mania”. In my headcanons Gehrman’s total obedience to Willem is motivated but there’s no solid proof in canon so let’s just say that Gehrman was an idiot who never questioned the orders from above :/

And now, let’s get to the final, FUNDAMENTAL point of this analysis: did Maria love Gehrman back?

Yes she did. Why else would anyone want to take a look at any picture one last time before killing themselves? To remember what they lost or could’ve had if things were different.

Why am I 100% sure that Gehrman is in that picture? Because in canon we don’t know the name of any other member of the Old Hunters. It’s just the two of them: Gehrman and Maria, the only ones with faces and backstory in a crowd of faceless, bloodthirsty mannequins.

Here you go, thanks Fextralife.