#large hog hunting

[catsteeth]

The Caged Bird & The Leashed Dog

Sandor Clegane x reader

+:✿ Chapter - 9 ✿:+ Moon Tea.

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Summary: You are the daughter of Jon Arryn, you and your father travel to King's Landing with the intention of arranging a marriage for you. You catch a glimpse of The Hound during your first night in Kings Landing and it creates a mutual fascination even if he won't admit it. 

CW: MDNI, NSFW themes, VIOLENCE, misogyny, angst, forced use of a contraceptive, emotional unavailability, emotional vulnerability, The Hound being abrasive, mention of death, blood, threats of violence, mentions of arranged marriage, 

Word Count: 3851 

✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊

As the Hound lounged on the Hog farmers' stolen wagon as he ate a pig's foot. He looked over to the Stark girl who’d been peering over towards the Twins every five minutes. 

The Hound huffed, “It’s not going anywhere.” He said as he took a large bite of a pig's foot.

“I know that,” Arya said, almost as if she were offended, still not taking her eyes away from the Twins.

“You keep looking back at it… like you’re afraid of it’s going to disappear.” He said going back to chewing on the fatty meat of the pigs feet.

“I’m not afraid.” She said, turning her pointed and angry attention towards him.

He leaned forward, his eyes narrowing, a knowing smirk slightly appearing. “Yes you are, I know the look. I’ve seen it a lot. The closer you get the worse the fear gets.” He spoke almost from experience.

Arya turned to face him completely, her eyes hateful “I know what you’re afraid of… You’re afraid of fire.” She stepped closer, “And I know why too, your brother pressed your face to the fire like it was a nice juicy mutton chop.” She smiled slightly, mockingly.

The hounds' cold demeanor buckled from under him. “Your cousin tell you that?” 

“She never talked about you.” Her brows furrowed, confused by the question. His predisposed feelings of betrayal went away.

He shrugged, going back to the pigs feet in his hand, “That give you some ideas?” He asked in a gruff tone.

She turned away from him, “Might do.” she said stoically. 

He scoffed, “Go ahead then. You might even make it there on your own. It’s just over the river. Closest you’ve been to family since Illyne Payne snipped your daddy’s neck.” He said mockingly, his best way of deflecting any kind of pain.

Arya turned back to him, stepping closer. “Someday I’m going to put a sword through your eye and out the back of your skull.” Her eyes emotionless, her voice cold.

The sudden, abrupt, and seemingly not empty threat made him halt his chewing. He stared at the girl with eyes of shock. 

He could see you in this girl somewhat. Stubborn and willful. But with this one it was more annoying, and less forgiving of his shit attitude. 

He huffed, and went back to eating as the girl went back to staring at the river that divided them and her family.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

You hadn’t seen or spoken to Petyr about the killing of your aunt. 

That morning you felt sick, sicker than usual. 

You had grown to appreciate the gesture of murdering someone who posed a threat to you. But with him it didn’t feel as unconditional as when your dog did it. When he did it, he did not want something in return. He did it because he wanted- no he needed you safe. With Petyr it felt as though it was something he would use, a new string tying to a limb of a puppet. 

You spent most of your time avoiding him, in the high tower where the falconers keep their birds.

There were less birds than when you left. But your favorite was still there, Lenarea. The one your mother gave you.

“A hawk, a beautiful creature isn’t she? “ Your mother said, as she pointed to the flying creature, soaring above you.

“Yes, she is.” You said, somewhat disinterested, staring off at the falconers who were teaching their birds to hunt.

“A hawk is a forgiving animal. You could make mistake after mistake and she’d forgive you at the end of each day because she knows you’ve chicken feet in your pocket.” Your mother said, petting your hair. “A falcon however, doesn’t forgive so easily. She remembers what you did. and she’s not keen on letting you forget either. No matter how many chicken feet you try to shove at her.” She said as she poked at your nose, making you giggle. “So, what bird should you start with?”

“A hawk, but I want a falcon.” You said with no second guessing, you always knew what you wanted.

“You’ll have many birds, sweet dove. But your first should be one of a forgiving nature.”

“I won’t make a mistake.”

Your mother giggled, “You are a stubborn thing aren’t you? Alright then.” She said, just as she began to lead you to the high tower you were in now. There was a beautiful falcon whose chicks had just hatched. You pointed to the one you wanted.

As she placed the babe within your palms you caressed it, feeling its warmth as it chirped in your hands. Her feathers still fluffy, sparse, and white.

“Lenarea.” You named her quietly. 

The memory soon faded from your mind. 

Memory is merciless, ruthless. And this white prison evoked so much of it.

You put on that thick leather gauntlet, and you took Lenarea out of her cage. Her black eyes examined you fondly. You smiled at her. Until you saw the reflection of a short pale black haired sickly looking boy in her glassy eyes. 

“Sister,” He said, his voice shaky. 

“Hello Robin.” You said, turning to face him, “I am sorry about your mother. I was only a little older than you are now when mine died.” You said, you weren’t sorry for her, but for him. 

“You hated mother,” He said, slightly confused. 

“Even still, you shouldn’t feel pain. Too young for such pain.” You said, petting Lenarea’s shining feathers with your finger.

“My mother said, when you marry the baby man and I get old enough, I'll be lord of the vale.” He said childishly, 

“I didn’t marry Lord Tyrion. I won’t be marrying him… ever.” You spoke to him with an intensity you wouldn’t normally speak to a child with. 

“So, what will that mean?” He was confused, uncertain, as he was with most things now.

“Robin, you and I share blood. That means a great deal to me.” It did, somewhat… “I know you don’t care about what i am going to say but it would be wise for you to listen to it and remember it. I was born with this land as a promise. I was born with the titles of Lady of the Eyrie, Warden of the East, Defender of the Vale, Keeper of the Moon Door, and Head of House Arryn. I was born to it. And at certain moments of my life I would have given it to you. But I made a promise to my own mother. To keep this house safe.” It was somewhat a threat, but not quite. 

“My mother said-” He began as Lenarea let out a short but sharp and shrill chirp.

 “Your mother did not understand me well. I hope you do.”  You said coldly, not proudly. 

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

As Sandor rode the cart up to the entrance of the Frey’s gates. The men surrounding drinked and shouted, He stopped a man walking passed.

“You, have the Starks arrived?” He asked gruffly, Arya looked at the man with hopeful eyes

“Oh yes they have,” The drunken man said, smirking and letting out a devious chuckle. The man began to walk passed when Sandor reached out and grabbed the man by the arm stopping him. 

“What of any Arryns?” He asked, a bit more gruff than the last question. Arya raised a brow at the question.

The man looked at the Hound's hand on his arm, surprised by how large it was “No Arryns here, big fellow.” The drunk man said with a hiccup as the Hound let him go.

He rode on, further up to the gate's entrance. He and Arya were stopped by the Frey’s guardsmen.

“Hog meat for the feast.” The Hound said, tilting his head towards the cart behind him.

“Feasts over.” The Guard said,

Hound looked over to the men singing and celebrating, “Doesn’t sound over.” He said looking back 

“It’s over when I say it is.” The man said gripping onto his swords handle, 

The Hound huffed and looked back at Arya only to see she was gone. 

By the time the Hound was able to abandon the cart, and finish unhitching Stranger from it the loudness of the bannermen grew.

It wasn’t celebratory, no this was victorious, and brutal. A battle, he knew it well. 

His thoughts immediately went to you, but satisfied with that drunk man's answer to his question earlier his mind went to Arya. 

He couldn’t let her die, not when he knew how much she’d meant to you. Also the money. And he could try to deny he didn’t care for her even a bit but he did… only a bit. 

As he hit the guards man hard, partially to move him out of the way and partially for his tone earlier. 

Once inside he saw Arya, about to run into the wedding, as if the little girl could do anything. 

“It’s too late.” The Hound said harshly, grabbing the girl by her shoulder. 

Arya tried once more to run inside, unwilling to let her take her chances in a room full of savage, drunk, stark hating men, he hit her. Hard enough to knock her unconscious. He picked the girl up, tossing her over his shoulder and carried her to Stranger. 

The Hound grabbed the Freys Banner as he rode on, to better disguise him and the girl he carried. Soon the banner men’s war cries rang out throughout the courtyard, Sandor held the unconscious girl close to his chest. The cries grew louder and louder, until a crowd emerged from the Freys gates. As Sandor looked closer at what they were dragging out behind them he felt something he didn’t often feel.

Disgust.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

As your dreaming ended, you opened your eyes as a cloud passed your window bringing the sun, filling your room in its warm light. Its warmth cutting through the cold air of the mountains. 

It shined in your eyes, you winced as you stretched your limbs and breathed in deeply. 

You averted your eyes from the sun, directing them towards the dagger Sandor gave you. You kept it on a small table by your bed. Now that your bruises were beginning to fade it was the becoming the only thing you had to remind you of him aside for the memories that haunted your dreams. 

You reached over and grabbed it. You held it in your hand, the handle had a weight to it. You ran your fingertip over the engravings on the handle. You kissed the tip of it, the way you would have if it were his cock.

You closed your eyes, and imagined as if it were. You imagined his groans that he’d let out. Deep and low, so low it’d rattle in his chest. And you imagined his teeth biting down on your sides, on your breasts, your neck. 

You ran your fingers down to your cunt. You played with your clit the way he did, circling and rubbing your clit. You used two fingers, which was almost the equivalent of one of his. 

You remembered the way his hands would grasp your thighs when he pushed inside you. How the heat felt pouring out of him and into you. You pressed two fingers inside you, using your palm to tease your clit. It was not nearly as satisfying or fulfilling as his cock but it was enough for now. You began to moan out, breathlessly. Wanting nothing more than to feel his hot breath against your neck, his beard against your skin. His tongue in your cunt. 

You were closing in on your high, when suddenly-

“My lady-” Ser Cole said as he opened your chamber door, He saw you, with your hand in your small clothes. He turned his body away instantly, “My apologies.” He blurted out

You reasonably startled, removed your hand, sat up in your bed and covered yourself with your blanket, “Men should not sneak into a ladies' chambers!” You spat at him.

Still not looking at you, “Of course not, please, I beg you to forgive my rudeness. It is only I’ve a message of critical urgency.” 

“Then tell it quickly!” You said, furious. Sandor would have taken this man's eyes, maybe hanged him by his guts as he liked to threaten often. 

He began to turn back towards you, “Your aunt, Catelyn, and your cousin Robb. They were murdered last night.” His voice sorrowful

“What?” You asked softly, in disbelief.

His eyes finally fell on you, cautiously, “The Frey’s massacred them at the wedding of your Uncle.” He looked at you, waiting for a response “My Lady?”

“Leave me.” You said, stoically. 

“My lady” He began

“I said leave me!” You commanded, and finally he left. 

Alone, alone in your room, and alone in this world now finally. The last remaining bit of your family that weren’t political hostages were murdered. And your one chance at regaining your birthrights without an arranged marriage along with them.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

Later that morning, you hadn’t washed, or changed. You found little point in it. 

You began to walk down the marble steps of the Eyrie as Ser Cole stopped you, grabbing your arm and pulling you away from the stairs.  

Assuming he was going to beg for forgiveness for catching you with your fingers in your cunt you pushed away with a huff, “Please, I do not need any more apologies-” You began before he pulled you into a hallway and covered your mouth with his hand. You began to struggle when you heard a familiar voice coming from the throne room. 

“My condolences. Lady Lysa was a woman of strong character.” Tyrion said, you could tell it was disingenuous. Your heart dropped to your stomach, and you felt yourself tense. Your eyes went wide, as Ser Cole pulled his hand away from your mouth. 

“She was. My own condolences of your own lady.” Petyr said in response. You listened intensely. 

“condolences are not needed.” Tyrion said, offendedly. 

“Of course,” Petyr said, pretending to be sympathetic. 

“She's not been found, is all.” Tyrion said, uncomfortably. 

“It has been many nights.” Petyr began “You’re a smart man, you are aware of the terrible things that happen inside castle walls. Half her family was killed within them. Your walls and the Frey’s. And you know the kind of world that lies outside of castle walls. You know the terrible things that could happen to a girl-” 

“(Y/N) Arryn is a woman of great intelligence, strong will, and a clever nature. I believe she’s alive, taken, but alive.” Tyrion stated, with confidence. The same confidence he always had.

“Another theory.” Petyr said, as if he were tired of hearing his constant wailing about you.

“She’s my betrothed. It is my duty to see to it that she is safe.” hearing him say those words made you feel sick. Or at least you thought it was those words that did it.

“It hasn’t crossed your mind she’s fled. Escaped upon her own free will?” Petyr said, why would he say that? You thought. 

“It only crossed it for a moment. I’d be a fool not to consider it, but I would be a fool to consider it longer than a moment. She’s no reason to want to flee.” Tyrion was sweet to be so unaware of how disloyal you were to him.

“She didn’t?”

“She doesn’t.” 

“Betrothed to the least desirable Lannister. A man accused of murdering her father-“

“Ah yes, and thank you for informing her of that.”

“You’d have rather kept her blinded to the truth?”

“There was no truth to the accusations. Only thing to come from such knowledge would be pain.” Tyrion stopped himself, taking a breath and reminding himself of what he came to the Eyrie for, “I want to ally our forces, The Knights of the Vale should be searching for her. She is their Lady-“ 

“They are looking for her. You act as though we want her gone.” Petyr acted like he was offended.

“You don’t? It would be convenient.” Tyrion's tone was pointed. 

“I love my niece,” Petyr said and you felt vomit begin to rise in your throat.

“We all know that. You ceaselessly reminded her father of your affections when he rejected your proposals.” 

“This is not about me, or you. I am willing to join our forces with one another. Though I believe it is wise for the both of us to anticipate… disappointment.”  He talked about you like you were dead. It calmed you somewhat, “It has been how many days since she was seen alive?”  

“I say that Dog took her.” A man's voice said, and you recognized it, the cut throat that Tyrion paid as his own bodyguard. Your body tensed, and you felt a wave of heat crash against you. 

“Enough,” Tyrion said, tired of his words, as if he’d heard this theory before.

“I mean really, am I the only person with two eyes who could see how cunt struck that bloody dog was?” The cut throat said, it made the vomit rise even higher. You pressed two fingers to your lips to keep them shut.

“I said enough.” 

“A theory you don’t like?” Petyr questioned. 

“A theory not worth considering. It is blood and ash in my mouth. There is no reason for her to have left with him, no reason for her to have left me willingly.” Tyrion tried so hard to defend what he thought was your love for him. You felt the guilt in your stomach mix with the nausea.

“I’m not saying she went with the fucker smiling. Can’t imagine any lass especially one like her going with a man like that. That fucker never cared if anyone but the king lived or died. But the fucker went against his own king to save that girl from the riots.” The cut throat’s words only pushed you to gag slightly. You covered your mouth with your hand fully.  

“There is a bounty on his head and people looking for him. But we are here to discuss (Y/N), finding her.” Tyrion said as a final and swift effort to shut the man up. 

“We will ally our efforts to seek her out. They will work in tandem under the one objective of finding her.” Petyr said 

With your hand covering your mouth you pushed Ser Cole away with your other hand, walking passed him. Lightly, making sure not to make a sound as you rushed towards the privy as you vomited.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

You hadn’t left your chamber all day. That night Petyr came in. He had a tray of dinner for you. And a tea. 

“You’ve not dressed at all?” Petyr asked, concerned. You looked back at him with tear stained cheeks and annoyed eyes. “I am sorry. What the Frey have done…” 

“I don’t wish to discuss it.” You said looking over at the food on the tray. You pulled it towards you and began to eat. Your stomach was empty from the sickness earlier. 

“I believe we’ve matters of importance to discuss.” Petyr said softly as he watched you eat. 

“The killing of my aunt?” You asked sardonically.

“Your aunt had made some worrying allegations against you, my dearest one. And the cut throat that accompanied your betrothed raised an interesting theory.” His eyes were filled with concern.

“You believe them?” You asked stoically

“I don’t know. That’s why I am bringing them to you. For your answers. I could bring you to a Maester and have you checked, but I don’t wish that for you. Nor can we afford the risk of any more people knowing you are here.” 

“Lord Tyrion did not touch me. I’ve said it already-“ You began, sneeringly.

“I am not concerned with Lord Tyrion.” Petyr said, it made all the words you’d planned vanish. “Ser Cole might have found you alone but that doesn’t mean you were. It would take a great deal of protection to make it that far on your own.” His accusations were heavy but his voice was nurturing.

“I am intact.” You spoke like a mouse.

“Even still, I’ve prepared a tea… or rather a maester has upon my command.” He picked up the chalice and handed it to you.

“Tea?” You smelt it, it smelt bitter and ugly. 

“Only to be sure. It will rid you of any unwanted consequences.” Petyr said as he petted your hair, it reminded you of your mothers touch, your eyes stayed on the tea and away from him. You pretended that it was. 

“Moon tea. I know it.” You said, nodding. Your voice was raspy. 

“If you are intact, as you say you are, there will be no effect. However, if you are not, and if you are with child, it shall save you the shame.” He continued to pet your hair,

“You don’t believe me?” You still didn’t look at him. You sniffled, your face heating up, eyes watering. 

“It doesn’t matter what I believe, or what you say. What matters is that you drink this.” 

You felt tears coming, you knew that feeling well… sorrow. “Will it hurt?” You felt submissive, that was new. Even when you had no power you knew a way to find your own power. But not here. 

“Drink it, my dear.” He commanded softly. 

“As you command it.” You said as you drank it. All of it, within one gulp. It was revolting. 

“You are not as good of a liar as you might think, my dear.” Petyr said, he pulled you into a hug, you closed your eyes and pretended it was your mother, and hugged back. “Do not lie to me again, there is no need for it. I am your only ally now.” He threatened you sweetly, and softly. You hated that he was right.

He left you.

You thought about what Sandor would do. You thought about that often but right now you really wanted him. Not for his violence, but you wanted his touch. His arms around you. You wanted him to hold you. 

But you didn’t have him, so you held onto your stomach, feeling the possibility of what could be slip away. You’d not know for certain if you were, or were not with child but now it was certain you were not. You day dreamed so often of what could have been. But now no more. 

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

Sandor had seen every kind of brutalization. There was little that ever shocked him, even littler things sickened him. But what he saw that night truly did. 

The Frey’s are animals… 

It was early morning as Sandor sat beside a dying fire with the Stark girl still sleeping, his thoughts only turned to you. 

Where the fuck were you?

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

NOTE:

Hey all you cool cats and kittens, 

I’m sorry that this chapter took so long (again lol), but I aced my finals! 

Also I wanted to tease that these two are probably going to be crossing paths again soon…

K love you, xoxo

Bambi

Beloved Tags:  @dontfollowjuststuff  @helpmeescapethisreality  @merfic @broadsdrinkwhisky @the-queen-of-sorrows  @eddiesbongwater @not-neverland06  @symonedoesart @wyvernnest @bdudette @frosch-thefrog @patrick-hockstutter @drymushroomfics

[stitchy-face]

Calibreon Expansion #15 - Gryphon

Somewhat lore, mostly speculative thought about my choices in deign under the cut.

Gryphon are a species of Calibreon that have always remained semi-nebulous in their existence. Thinking about Gryphon as any large massive species never seemed to work because there in my mind wouldn't be enough food to sustain them where I imagined they'd be so I settled for something simpler and more compact. 

These medium-sized creatures can be found in northern Talis. Though by nature they are wild, it is possible to tame one for work in hunting results may vary on workmanship with one. They're at largest around the size of an average bobcat and form groups or prides of around 5-8 individuals. While they can fly it's not very long-distance and is ideal for short burst hunts and roosting at night.

Weyr are one of the few species to have constant run-ins with Gryphon. While they won't actively hunt one another sometimes Gryphon will follow a Weyr hunting party and try to snipe their catch from them- typically interactions never get more violent than this. Some Weyr are even clever (or brave) enough to try and tame a Gryphon much like someone would a hawk or eagle for Falconry practices. Gryphon are very tempermental however and may not listen the best- but some have managed.

Gryphon anatomically resembles hawks, smaller eagles, and puma or bobcats. Though the species aren't one-to-one aesthetically pieces of the design influence their colors. They have feather-like "ears" like a Great Horned Owl which they use expressively to communicate silently to one another. They have sharp beaks and teeth- though like other birds they lack the ability to chew so they swallow food in whole chunks. 

Their diet mainly consists of but is not limited to small mammals such as deer, sheep, or with group efforts Elk or Bovine. They have also been known to eat fish, insects, birds, turkey and in rare instances they may brave going after wild hog. 

[deeper-ever-deeper]

are there any particular rigs or other tools used for something like megafauna hunting? Not necessarily combat/taking out a critter that's a danger to the area like the fighter jet dragons, but like, folks are gearing up to go bag a big critter for food/resources. Or would both of those scenarios be similar enough that there's not really any difference between the tools that would be used?

Megafauna hunting is a pretty important job under the Amber sky. Keeping any settlement or trade route safe will require regular tending by rangers.

Creatures can get quite large and extremely aggressive. Many also feature explosive healing factors that make them highly resistant to small arms and blades. The average modern combat rifle would struggle against Amber skies megafauna. They are not usually hunted for food given the effort involved.

However, oftentimes its not a question of actually killing the creature. These mega-organisms are often a keystone species that keeps herbivore populations in check. Most of the time, hunters just want to scare them away. The death of a mega-organism can risk ecological collapse.

Hunting rigs tend to be extremely light. They need to be quiet. So rather than focus on bulky armor, they go all in on speed and agility. If the turbo hog can crush a tank in one headbutt, why even bother with armor? A mech cant sneak up on anything.

If you actually need to kill a mega organism, hunting tools tend to be tranquilizer rounds and cutting tools that resemble oversized butchery implements. It's not uncommon for a town to retrofit a combine harvester, or a rototiller, into an absolutely fuck-off huge turkey carver.

You hunt in groups. Tire it out, trap it if you can, and cut off it's head before it heals.

[pokemonshelterstories]

You're in Paldea right? What's your opinion on the Treasure Hunt? I know that a lot of the kids in the humanities track do volunteer work, do you ever get any of them at the shelter?

we got lots of volunteers and interns at the shelter from naranja-uva! one of my coworkers, makao, actually started out as a treasure hunt intern.

conceptually, i'm not opposed to the treasure hunt- i think it's a fun way for students to branch out a little bit and find something they really enjoy. i don't think it's for everyone, though. to be honest, dropping everything for a month is the sort of thing you can really only do if you have the resources for it, so it can be really tough for some of the students who are on financial aid or only at the school on scholarship to participate in. my boss only takes on an intern when she knows we have the money to give them a salary, but there are definitely treasure hunt internships that are unpaid.

it's also just...not particularly academic? some teachers offer courses during the treasure hunt, but the focus is largely on going outside of the academy. i'm starting my master's program next school year, and i won't be taking part in the treasure hunt as a result.

so, i think it's a neat program for people who want it! but it's not the kind of thing everyone is going to enjoy or want to do, and i wish some of our more academically-minded schools and public schools got more attention. N-U tends to hog the spotlight.

[zooophagous]

Tuunbaq is really cute, im excited to see what his future holds :) i never heard of kishu ken before you got him, what got you interested in the breed?

Honestly I saw one on tumblr and went down the rabbit hole reading about them lol. I've always been interested in spitz breeds and "primitive" dogs that are more cat like, as cats are my background and what I'm more used to.

But the kishu seemed to be different. A spitz type primitive but one that actually wasn't standoffish with strangers, and that enjoyed being trained, that wasn't quite so stubborn while retaining enough independence to not be directly on top of me all the time and be able to think for itself for a bit. A hunting breed but one more into large targets like deer and hogs but soft on small animals like cats. A coat that's easy to keep clean and a flexible temperament that's up for anything.

Once I got to meet a couple of them in person it was all over and I needed one lol. Tuunbaq so far has perfectly fit into the description that got me intrigued. He's eager to learn, bold enough to try new things without much convincing, moderately obedient without being fawning and up for anything as long as he gets to be with his people.

The one stand out bit of the breed standard that stuck with me is that kishu are described as being unflinchingly loyal. Which, all dogs typically are, but they amp it up by a few degrees.

And I do see it. He won't shove his entire body into mine and sit on my foot like Egon, but if I close a door he waits behind it for me to come out. He will follow me into a room and lay down at my feet patiently until I stand up and it's time to go. When he sees something new and can't decide if it's good or bad he looks back at me to decide what to do next.

He's moderate energy and fairly low drive, even less so than Egon who's much older. He loves to train but won't go bananas and destroy my house if we skip a day.

They're just great all rounders and it's truthfully baffling to me that these relatively easy, medium sized dogs with wash and wear coats aren't as popular as other Japanese breeds like akitas who will eat your neighbor's arms off if you don't hammer them with training from puppyhood and even then they won't like everyone.

[bonefall]

I have my own clan project and I need some quick advice. I calculated the feral cat population I chose to base the setting on, and I got back that the feral cat population is usually one tenth of the human population in the area. Instead of throwing that 15-30k cat estimate away ("THATS A LOT OF DAMAGE") I wanted to at least massively increase the amount of cats in each clan and let the cats in the city soak up the mass majority of that number. So, anywhere from 100-150 cats in a clan I decided, a HUGE leap from the 30 something in the normal clans.

The cats DO have access to large prey- one clan hunts goats by using gravity for example, but I'd love to know how I can wring out every calorie and nutrient to make this massive population viable eating-wise. I'm thinking that the massive size would encourage hunting larger and larger prey (no sweet fat of the hog in the area, but deer and caribou are here), but do you think the small prey population would still be able to support the large clans?

YOWZA you're going to start having some troubles there, but I do think it's doable if you start giving them some serious advances. I don't think this is sustainable if you're doing a canon-compliant Clan; but you can squeak by if you're using fire, traps, and domestication.

So, even above the technological level of BB, but you're dealing with a BIG number here. So anyway, here's how to REALLY maximize the amount of meat you have in an area;

Domestication You seem to be somewhere cold, but I could imagine this being HUGE for Clans that are set up in South America. Natural home of the guinea pig, a living, breathing sausage. Even without guinea pigs, you might be able to have them domesticate pigeons, goldfish, mealworms, mice, maybe even chickens if you're REALLY advanced with making your fencing. What you can't make up in livestock, you can supplement with hunting. Check out CGPGrey's video on domestication, and think about how to adjust the information for a species of cats which is very small.

Fire You need fire. That 20% to 50% increase is HUGE when you're cutting back on prey.

Traps, spears, other hunting tools, for catching larger prey You can use gravity to chase a goat or a sheep off the side of a cliff, but you don't want to rely on this too much if those are human-owned. A few going missing once in a while? That's expected. If they go missing with regularity? Those humans are going to check in. Another thing to be careful of; It's a LOT easier to do this trick with an entire herd than one individual. In fact, the deadliest wolf attacks are accidental, like this one time two accidentally fenton'd 143 sheep to their deaths. OOPS!!! Plus, it straightup doesn't work on boars. They will turn around and kill you to death. You're going to want some cats who can figure out how to set traps and handle weapons. Forget about killing boars if you don't have spears like BB!ThunderClan does.

Spread Out You might even benefit from having the Clans all be interconnected, honestly, regularly trading resources. You mentioned having your city Clan, so you could be having them plus one of the further-out Clans (maybe even have one be nomadic) be the ones who are known for food production, with some Clans supplementing their diets with imports.

There IS a group kind of like this in BB, actually; The Tribe. This is actually why they have those three "Wards" I mention-- the Cave Ward, which is the "canon" Tribe, doesn't actually produce a lot of its own food and has a lower population than the Mountain and River Wards. But, put together, they significantly outnumber the Clans of the Lake.

[spencersties]

Willing Closeness - S.R.

Gif is by @radioactive-creative-bug

A/N: I was thinking about that "I'm not sharing with reid" room thing from 5×21 this morning and I wanted to write a little drabble but it somehow turned into a whole ass one shot.

Content/Warnings: enemies to lovers, one bed trope, fluff, some angst if you squint and tilt your head to one side

Word count: 840

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you and spencer had gotten along as well as oil and water for the few months that you had known him. neither of you understood why, but for some reason, you just couldn't be in the same room together without getting on each other's nerves. you found him infuriating most of the time, and if his constant quips were any indication, he felt the same way about you.

him getting shot didn't help matters. he was constantly putting himself in unnecessary danger. you just didn't understand how a man with such a high IQ acted so irrationally. you had almost lost your shit when you found out he had travelled without being cleared, it was almost like he wanted to get himself in trouble.

now that he was pretty much healed and back to putting himself on the wrong end of a gun barrel, you were closer to snapping than ever. you got the urge to stand in front of him any time you came face to face with an unsub.

so when night rolled around on a case where the killer seemed to hunt at night and you still hadn't caught them, you were more than ready to do whatever was necessary to make sure spencer didn't do something dumb again. if only to calm your own nerves, of course.

"I'm not sharing with reid again." came morgan's voice, and reid frowned, clearly taking some offence.

garcia quickly called dibs on derek and before you could overthink it, you spoke up, "I'll room with the doctor tonight."

confused looks came from all the members of the team, they were all familiar with you and reid's constant squabbles. however, you didn't spare any of them more than a glance, going to get the key to your room and heading upstairs instead.

but of course, of course, when you got to the room there was only one large bed in the centre of it.

you sighed and dropped your go-bag down onto the floor, running your hand through your hair. this was fine, you and spencer would just have to deal with this like the adults you both were.

a click sounded behind you, and spencer walked into the room. glancing at you and then at the bed, still sporting a look of utter confusion. his mouth opened and closed a few times.

"oh." was the only sound that managed to make it out.

"it's big enough for the both of us."

"okay."

"I'm taking the side next to the window." you expected some sort of disagreement on his part at that.

"okay." was what he responded with instead.

the rest of the night continued in the same unfamiliar manner. with you and spencer getting ready for bed in amicable silence.

after a little while, the lights had finally been shut off and the two of you climbed into the bed.

you turned away from him, grabbing onto one side of the duvet, with him doing the same, which would have usually been fine, but there was only one duvet, and spreading it out like that meant there was a gap through the middle that let the cold in.

"spencer this isn't going to work. We'll both be freezing to death before the morning."

maybe the evening had gotten your hopes up because you were expecting a reasonable response from him, but, naturally, spencer did the opposite of what you thought he would.

he turned so that he was facing your back and wrapped an arm around your front, gently nudging you so you were closer, mumbling something about how this wouldn't be necessary if you weren't such a blanket hog under his breath.

you were too stunned by his willing closeness to answer him.

once spencer seemed to deem that the two of you were near enough, he took his hand away from you. you must have let out some sort of peculiar sound at that because he spoke up again.

"sleep. I'll be fine without your constant hovering for the next eight hours."

"I don't hover." you said, probably not as defensively as you should have.

"sleep." he repeated. and surprisingly, you did. you slept better than you had in ages, not a single concern crossing your mind.

you woke up the next morning with spencer wrapped around you like his life depended on it. His legs were between yours, and his head was buried in your chest while his arms held you in place by the waist.

you absentmindedly ran a hand through his hair, still hazy from sleep, before saying his name. he hummed and pulled you tighter to him, burying his head further into you before mumbling, "stay, we can go back to bickering later."

you couldn't argue with that logic and you were going to take full advantage of having spencer where you could see and feel him.

the two of you spent that morning drifting in and out of sleep for as long as you could before having to get up and ready to go meet the team.

request to be on my taglist

[theangrycomet-art]

Sonic Underground Reprise: Sir Julius Hedgehog

Aleena's late husband and “precious Jewel”

Notes (too many thoughts on the dead(?) hog)

terrible at directions- he could get lost in an overly large sweater

laid back, it takes a lot to get him riled up

middle child (Chuck being the oldest with Paulie being the youngest, with roughly 6 years between each of them)

grew up greatly admiring his older brother and Chuck moving out for college played in part to him running away

he ran away from home to join the circus when he was 13

learned a lot of weird skills as a result: sleight of hand, animal taming, knife throwing, knife dodging, sword swallowing, aerial silk as and acrobatics just to name a few

he stayed with them until he as 17 when the troupe was wrongfully arrested and he was forcibly enlisted into the army for 3 years before Chuck managed to bail him out and get him and his buddy a new job with the Royal guard

met Aleena when he crashed full speed into a fountain testing a "borrowed" hoverboard model from Chuck's lab with Argus, making her laugh

instantly smitten, he made it a personally mission of his to make her laugh as much as possible

he put his clowning to good use

was captured during the raid of Mobotropolis distracting Robotnik’s troupes away from his fleeing family

was the first mobian to be Robotocized

the event was greatly publicized so that the public knew what painful fate awaited them should they dare to defy him

Robian!Jules is prone to malfunctions to due lack of maintainence

he is used to track/hunt down Aleena

[ghoastixx]

you know the episode where Sam is stuck in a time loop? What if Dean’s kid was stuck in a time loop and they had to witness their dad die over and over?

Let's Do The Time Warp Again

synopsis above

notes: This episode is literally one of my favorites because I love the trickster so much, so this is so fun???? Thank you so much. My inbox is always open!

Author's note: Just for the sake of how much I used from the actual episode in this, none of the material in this belongs to me.

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The loud obnoxious song of a motel alarm clock woke you up from your sleep. Tuesday morning in a shitty little town at a hunt that made you want to laugh. Some Mystery Spot Gravity Falls bullshit.

"Rise and shine Sammy!" You heard your dad wake your uncle up as you yourself got up, starting your day. You were relatively quiet as you listened to your dad and uncle discuss the hunt. Your dad suggested breakfast, so you all piled into the Impala and headed to a small diner.

"Special of the day.. Pig N' A poke. What's that?" You dozed off a bit til it came time to order. You ordered a pancake. Still being tired, you kept to yourself as you awaited the food. The sound of a hot sauce bottle falling made you jump. Ultimately waking you up.

Breakfast was nice but the moment wouldn't last forever. You walked next to Sam and Dean as they discussed the Mystery Spot, occasionally putting your input. You stopped to wave at a golden retriever that was barking at passerby's, a blonde woman bumped into your dad, and movers were struggling to move a large desk inside a building. Seemed a lot was happening in this city street. Ultimately, you all decided to go to the Mystery Spot that night and look for anything tricky.

It was tackier then you could've imagined. You were pulled from your thoughts by a commotion. The owner had showed up, and he had a gun. Frozen in fear you tried to find a way out of this.

That's when he shot your father. You and your uncle bolted over, trying to stop the bleeding-

The loud obnoxious song of a motel alarm clock woke you up from your sleep. Tuesday morning in a shitty little town at a hunt that made you want to.. hold on. There your dad was, taunting Uncle Sam, lip syncing the song and bobbing around.

You tried to convince yourself this was just an awful case of deja vu as you all piled into the table at the diner to eat. This time you sat on the outside of your Uncle Sam.. You caught the hot sauce bottle when it fell.

You felt crazy as you walked down the street. The dog barking, the blonde woman, the movers with the desk, it all made you sick. You quickly suggested checking the mystery spot out now instead of later to try and get information. Your uncle and dad agree. Dean goes to cross the road when he is hit by a car. Once again, you and your uncle rush over to your father.

The loud obnoxious song of a motel alarm clock woke you up from your sleep. Tuesday morning in a shitty little town at a hunt that made you feel sick.

At the diner, you decide to come clean about this.

"I..think I'm stuck in a time-loop."

"Like ground hog's day?" your dad cut in

"Yes, exactly like ground hog day! Except whenever.."

"What?" Sam asked,

"Nothin'.."

Everything is the same, the dog, the woman, the movers, but this time the car doesn't hit Dean. You hold him back.

You waited in the motel as Dean and Sam went to investigate as you didn't really pass as a reporter.

A loud obnoxious song of a motel alarm clock woke you up from your sleep. Tuesday morning in a shitty little town at a hunt that was turning out to be longer than you wanted. You had no idea how to prevent your father's next inevitable death because you had no idea how he even died last.

At the diner, you explain your fears once again. All three Winchesters decide to do something different, so instead of a side of bacon, dean orders sausage.

Your father chokes.

Your father falls in the shower.

Your father eats bad taco meat.

Your father is electrocuted by a razor.

Every single time the stupid song brings you back to this constant nightmare and you find yourself back in the diner. You glare at the waitress. She's a horrible shot..

"What's got you so sour, kiddo?" Your dad asked, a smirk.

"This is my hundredth Tuesday in a row."

"Don't be ridiculous." They both say in synch. "You're being ridiculous... When Sam was six he used to look at the cowboy's on TV so I called him gay." Dean raised his brow as you matched exactly what he said. Sam threw his hands in the air.

You point to people, "the waitress frequents the archery. That man right there is drinking and driving. She is cheating on her husband. He gets his kicks off by dressing in a bunny costume." At this point the hot sauce falls and you catch it. Your uncle is speechless.

They are trying to think of anything as they walk down the street. You mess with the keys in your hand that you took of the guy who hits your dad with his car, suddenly your dad is headed in the opposite direction before he comes back with a missing poster. You and Sam go to chase the woman down while your dad stays behind with the dog.

A loud obnoxious song of a motel alarm clock goes off once again.

At the diner you're giving information to the older winchesters who are highly impressed in your sudden interest in research.

"Sounds like a pompous ass," Sam mutters,

"I don't know man, it's just desserts," Your dad responds. Your eyes wander to the man who's been eating pancakes everyday. He's ordered a different kind of syrup.. That's..that's never happened.

A loud obnoxious song of a motel alarm clock wakes you up from your sleep.. It's him.

You are quiet, eerily so, as your uncle pointed out. As soon as the man with the pancakes gets up to leave the diner, you're up and following him, which freaks your family out. The Winchester's catch up with you once you've got the man cornered in an ally, panicking when they notice the wooden stake you have pointed at his neck.

"I've finally figured it out- why I can't get out of this hellhole. Watching my dad die everyday. We've killed one of your kind before-" You spat,

"Y/N, back down, you sound crazy." Your dad tried to interfere, your uncle stoped him. That's when the man reveals himself as the trickster from the college months before.

"You didn't." He smiles "It's been fun killing your dad everyday, squirt. Though I wanted this to happen to your uncle, you were entertaining to watch. Maybe this'll teach you a lesson."

"A lesson? What kind of sick lesson are you talking about you bitch."

"That you can't save your father. Maybe this will teach you to let him go before you ruin yourself trying to save him. Now.. I would keep this up.. but I couldn't do that to a kid."

"Set it back! I don't wanna play this game anymore. I'll kill you I swear!" The trickster shrinks back a bit as you press the wooden stake further into his throat.

A slightly less obnoxious song wakes you from your sleep. Another morning in a terrifying town that makes you want to leave as soon as possible. It is Wednesday and everything will be okay...

Right?

[mystra-midnight]

I Declare a Tug-of-war

summery: after a three day hunt you finally had the chance to have a good nights sleep, and a sleep in. except you had the share the bed with dean, a known blanket hog.

warnings: swearing. little bit of fluff. little bit of smut. ooc dean.

words: 1.6k

a/n: this was originally meant to be written as part of another writers challenge but then i disappeared and sort of never came back. after two years in my drafts i finally found the muse to finish it. now i'm reposting it because i was dumb and deleted it by mistake.

It was the biting cold that woke you after only a few hours of sleep. You and the Winchester brothers had been in Kansas hunting a siren, which had been an utter pain in the ass. It took three days to track it down and kill it, and now that the deed was done, you could finally sleep. Except the room was a fucking icebox, and you were turning into an ice cube.

Your skin was prickled with goosebumps, your nipples hardened peaks that were straining against your sleep shirt, and your teeth were clattering. Groaning softly, you peeled an eye open to look at the rickety A/C on the wall and balked when you saw it was set to sixteen degrees. You fumbled blindly for the covers, only to be met with resistance when you tried to draw them up to your neck.

You fought down the urge to flail angrily and instead opted to roll over and glare at the man beside you, who was snuggled comfortably beneath your share of the blanket; you were going to beat him black and blue. Dean had always been a blanket hog, which, combined with being a restless sleeper, meant you often ended up without anything to snuggle beneath.

"Dean," you whined and shoved his shoulder, but the elder brother didn’t rouse. He groaned softly and rolled away from you. This time, you punched him hard enough to wake him before dragging the blanket off him.

"What the hell?" His voice was husky, thick with exhaustion, surprise, and irritation, as well as a bundle of other emotions you couldn’t quite put your finger on. He propped himself up on an elbow and glared down at you, the dull yellow glow of the morning sun seeping through the window, illuminating the room and your huddled form.

He grabbed a fistful of the blanket and your shirt and attempted to cover himself, but you fought him. "You were hogging the blanket again!" You snapped irritably. It was a game of push-me-shove-you that was threatening to rip the blanket down the middle. "Stop hogging all the blanket!"

"Oh," he said, his tone oozing sarcasm. "Would you like to be the pot or the kettle, Y/N? I think I’d rather be the kettle. Or maybe the pot. I guess it doesn’t matter since they’re both black." Across the room, Sam groaned in annoyance when your childish argument woke him. You saw his eyes open to glare at you both before he rolled over and buried his head under his pillow.

Lucky bastard. Sam had won roshambo, which meant he got a bed to himself, and no amount of pleading, puppy dog eyes, or promises of cooking for the next month had been able to convince him to switch.

"Knock it off." Dean snarled. His gaze had darkened, and his tone was beginning to sound like that of a petulant child that couldn’t get his way. It was only natural that you refused. Instead, you rolled away, pulling the blanket with you and untucking them on his side.

"Dammit, Y/N!"

His large hand grabbed your shoulder, his fingertips digging in hard enough to bruise you as he hauled you back to face him. He was sitting up now and was glaring down at you with a hot gaze that didn’t soften when you looked at him with the same puppy-dog pout that failed to win his brother over.

His gaze narrowed slightly, making the crow's feet at the corners of his eyes more prominent. Your own stare roamed over his naked chest, noticing the way his skin was riddled with goosebumps and scars, making you bite the corner of your mouth. It wasn’t that you hadn’t seen him shirtless, or naked, for that matter.

But each time you had to beat down the urge to map the canvass of his body, to spend hours tracing each scar, every harsh line, and every blurred edge, committing the details to memory, and kissing them until his own bad memories were replaced with ones of you. Yeah, okay, you were kind of in love with Dean Winchester. But the smug asshole didn’t need to know that.

It was a good old-fashioned Mexican standoff.

That was until he made a move for the blanket again, and you had to fling yourself away, almost falling out of bed in the process. It was his hand catching you by the arm and flinging you onto your back that prevented you from sprawling on the floor.

"Get off me!" You squealed with laughter as he used his weight to pin you to the mattress. His hips were nestled between your thighs, which you had clamped tightly around him to stop him from getting any closer. One of his hands was on your hip, burning through your clothing until you felt the heat of his palm right down to your bones, and he was pushing you into the mattress as he tried to free the blanket from your grasp.

"Give it to me!" He snapped loudly.

Any other time you would have done exactly that or made some witty retort, but right this very moment you were feeling bratty, so you just held it further away from him. Dean reacted aggressively, digging his fingers into your skin so that you whimpered, the sound tinged with pain and excitement. You were going to have bruises in the shape of his fingers, and that thought lit fires in your belly.

You pulled it to your chest and held it there. Your breasts bounced from the erratic movements, threatening to spill free from the thin shirt concealing them. Your nipples were hard, and your skin chilled from the frigid air. It didn’t escape his notice, and you felt his cock twitching to life against your thigh.

"Give it to you, huh?" You teased.

"You wouldn’t know what to do with me."

Dean sneered down at you and then hauled the blanket away with a huff. He held it over his head, out of your reach, and tried to twist his body away from you. You tightened your thighs around his hips and pulled him closer, so that you felt him through your panties and he felt the damp between your legs against his cock.

And in the split second when his guard was down, when he was staring at you with lust-red eyes and beating down the urge to strip you naked and plunge his cock into your hot snatch, you took advantage. With both hands, you grabbed the blanket and yanked it back, only to be met with resistance once again.

It was a childish game of tug-of-war; it was ridiculous and asinine, but you couldn’t help but laugh. Even Dean cracked a weary grin as you wriggled beneath him, rubbing your clothed cunt against the morning tent he was starting to pitch.

And then it happened.

You wished you could say it was Dean burying his rigid cock inside of you, and you feeling the delicious stretch of your pussy wrapping around him, the length of him stimulating each and every one of your internal sweet spots.

Except it wasn’t.

The sound that broke through the room was like a gunshot shattering the night, and it left both you and Dean in stunned silence. There in your hands was the blanket, and there in his hands was the second half.

"Dean!" You yelled.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" He snapped back.

Your reaction was to throw it in his face. Fucking asshole. There you were beneath him, freezing to death and horny as hell, and now your blanket was ruined. You silently cursed every god whose name you remembered, condemning them for having forced you to share a bed with a known blanket hog.

You shoved at the wall of his chest, but he didn’t budge. Instead, he slammed a fist into the pillow beside your head in a fit of sleep-deprived irritability. Really, you couldn’t blame him. That damn siren had kicked your asses up and down the street for days before Sam managed the kill shot.

All three of you were sore, tired, and in a foul mood.

But that didn’t mean you weren’t pissed.

"You guys are actually ridiculous. You know that, right? Fucking ridiculous." Sam groaned from his bed, his back toward you, though there was no mistake about what had happened just now. "You better sort yourselves out right quick because I’m not sharing with either of you idiots."

You barely had time to whine and beg for Sam to reconsider before the air was forced out of your lungs by the delicious weight of Dean Winchester atop of you. His face was buried in the crook of your neck, his warm breath a gentle caress against your skin, and it stunned you into an awkward silence.

This was definitely not how you expected your day off to go.

But you weren’t in a position to complain. The man burned like a furnace even on the bitterest of winter nights, and it didn’t take long for the warmth of him to penetrate you, right down to the bone. You weren’t shivering now; in fact, you were quite content.

It was comfortable. His arms felt like home; he held you like a promise, and Dean Winchester never broke his promises.

And okay, yeah, maybe it wasn’t the same as having his cock buried in your cunt or his tongue in your mouth, but it was a pretty close second. And as you wrapped your arms around him and listened to the soft sound of his breathing as he dozed off, you decided that you could get used to this.

[skin-of-my-teeth]

Empty Promises

Tags: feedism, hunting, pred/prey, foreplay to vore, not explicit, dumb piggy Jungkook, huge greedy wolf Namjoon.

Fattened piggy hybrid Jungkook is too dumb and trusting to realize that huge wolf Namjoon is going to gobble him up...

The massive wolf found him gorging on strawberries, hunting the porky scent and finding a delicious hog just waiting to be devoured. Namjoon purrs and compliments him, rubbing a paw on Jungkook's tubby belly and giving the rich chub a pat to see how much he jiggles.

"Oh~ piggy is nice and fat, aren't you?" He cooes, buttering up the prey with praise.

Jungkook beams up at him. As a pig, being called fat is the best compliment he could ever get! He is! He's a good hog! He's been warned about wolves but... well this one is so pretty and nice! And wolves are usually lean and scary. This one is large and round and so soft and squishy. A big belly is a sign of happiness, just like his own! He makes a happy little oink.

"Piggy is!" He proudly pushes out his gut full of sugary strawberries. "Fat and healthy!"

Namjoon chuckles. Oh this prey will be so easy to snatch up and devour. Pigs aren't known for being the brightest... but this one should have some basic survival instincts, right? Or is he just that dumb? Namjoon’s own gut is heavy and round from over eating delicious prey. Wolves don't get this fat from letting plump pigs pass by...

He leans in. "Why doesn't a pretty little pig like yourself come over for dinner?" He purrs to him. "Wolfie will feed you up like you deserve, little pig..." he caresses Jungkook’s tubby side rolls. "Stuff you and fatten you so heavy that you can't get up. Then Alpha will... enjoy you."

Jungkook squeals with delight, thinking he's going to be fucked full of cum. He nods so fast his doubled chins jiggle, and happily follows the wolf back to his den, staying within the predator's petting claws as the wolf makes sure that any other predators around know that this prey is claimed.

Namjoon’s greedy gut growls in excitement that this fatty is going to be his dinner as Jungkook obliviously waddles along, excited at the promise of being fattened up to immobility with just one meal...

[izzydaninja]

Sonic with baby Shadow! Finally writing something for this!!

Chaotic Reaction - Part 1: A Little Stuck

Hands cupped around a small, fragile package as he keeps it close to his chest in an effort to protect it. He hurriedly rushes through a deep, swampy forest he’s not the most familiar with. Shoes soaked and slipping in the muddiest puddles as rain pours down all around.

He wasn’t even sure where he was heading anymore, under all these thick, slumped trees. And even that doesn’t change that rain still manages to coat him all over, leaving him dripping wet as he continues to scramble away with something needing protecting.

He was covered in small aches and pains from the battle he’d just managed to escape, although, barely as he still runs from the shrieking engine of his mechanical copy, and his many other clone brothers –er- whatever they’re called. Being hunted through this wretched weather fog was not on his day-plan.

Seeing a nice cover under a short, stubby tree hanging over–his quick feet slip not so graciously a few times as he attempts to turn in the tree's direction. One of his hands had to pull free of protecting his package in order to catch himself briefly so he could book-it for the tree.

His free hand swats the large, hanging leaves of the drooping tree, out of his way before he dives towards the trunk, where the ground’s layered in a puddle, like everywhere else. The leaf slides back down, shadowing the hedgehog in its protection as speeding blurs zip by, almost endlessly.

He carefully curls around himself, subconsciously trying to shield what he holds, as his eyes dart back and forth, zoning in on every single bot that speeds by, making sure they don’t catch notice of him in his last-minute hiding spot.

When the last one zips by, and the engines are no longer in range to be heard, he slumps in relief, finally exhaling to breathe properly. Only then, does he realize how protective he was acting towards his company, and he awkwardly clears his throat, opening his hands to reveal his little companion. A little black and red hedgehog, looking up at him with big, reflective ruby red eyes. Eyes that hold nothing but innocent curiosity, a childish curiosity that doesn’t belong on the face of his rival.

“Uh.. Shadow?” He voices, trying to be quiet in case the Metal Sonic’s weren’t too far off. “You’re.. Still in there, right?”

The little hedgehog just sits in the palms of his soaked hands, also a little wet, but doesn’t react in any way that would suggest he’d even spoken to the little guy.

With an overly stressed and frustrated groan, he pulls a hand free to brush back his own messed up quills, trying to ease the way they started to spike out in defense. His eyes, panickily glued to the little hog in his hand.

“Okay.. It’s fine.” He tries to ease, with a slight shake of his voice. “If I can just get a hold of Tails, he should be able to… ah.. Right.. Communicator was lost in the fight.” He thinks aloud, eyes now traveling down to his bare wrist, where a few deep cuts lie, a pinkish red, staining his fur where the rain washed at it.

“And Tails is halfway across the world, right now..” He adds with an uneasy sound. Shrunken, tired eyes, drift back to the mini hedgehog in his grasp, which has now lost interest in him, and is looking around the makeshift tree-tent they are currently sitting beneath.

Lips pulled tight, tension making him feel antsy, he watches the little hedgehog, unable to process much outside of: “We’re in trouble…”

A chill riding up his spine, finally draws his mind back into his body and–oh–does he feel the shiver that wracks him from the ice-cold mini-pool he’s sitting in, along with how soaked he already is, rain getting through his quills and fur as if he were in the ocean. Running helped keep his adrenaline going, it kept him warm, kept him busy. Now, he can feel the blistering chill of the wind blowing through the leaves, hitting his drenched self, and feeling as though it’s tearing straight through him. It felt about as cold as winter! The only–hardly–good thing about that, was the fact it numbed most of the injuries he’d sustained over the course of their battle with Metal Sonic and his army of twins.

A particularly sharp gust of wind blew through, and reflexively made him curl in on himself. Shivering against the thick trunk of the tree, he notices he’s not the only one getting affected by the extreme weather and lack of action. A faint trembling in his hand, had him look down to the tiny, curled ball in his palm, that is shivering up a storm of its own. A small, shaky, squeak sounding from the wet ball of fur.

Reacting on instincts and past experience–with a–not as young–fox–he immediately rips off his soaked gloves, dropping them in the pool of water as he cups his hands around the little hedgehog, trying to help warm him up again.

“Sorry, Shads..” His voice cuts a little from the cold. “If I could, I’d get a fire or something going, but-” Another gust of wind cuts his sentence off short, and he turns his back to it, curling more around the little hedgehog in his hands. “I don’t even see why I’m explaining this to you..” He shivers out. “You’re nowhere near old enough to understand this stuff right now. And even if you can understand, you’d already know from the obvious.”

Outside their little tent is barely lit from daylight trying to illuminate through the thick, gray clouds rolling in, leaving the inside of their natural tent, nearly pitch-black. As that does make their hiding spot safer from the mirror army of droids, it is also making running home right now a more dangerous option. Not being able to see his enemies coming, or where he’s going, especially with all this heavy rain. Tonight was going to be a trip…

The occasional sounds of the robotic copies' engines whirring out with a speeding light not too far, suggests those machines were still on the hunt, and since water doesn’t seem to affect them, they’d likely be looking all night long if it came to it. Meaning, he’s going to need to move places soon. But that won’t be happening until he’s certain these copies are far enough away that he won’t draw any attention.

It was getting darker, and the rainwater on the ground was now reaching his ankles, and he can officially say his feet were numb. The rain had long since gotten through his shoes and filled them with water, soaking his socks, too, and as uncomfortable as it is, he’d also accepted the fact he’d have to deal with it, till he can get back to Tails’ lab.

With a shaky exhale, he leans forward, away from the trunk of the tree, checking outside their little tent for the fifth time since daylight died out. Leaving things next to pitch-black and making it to where the vaguest of shadows were his only indication that something was there. At least, until another Metal clone came flying back, leaving an orange glow in its wake.

The area seemed clear. He hasn’t seen, nor heard anything, though, that could be because of the lack of light, and the overwhelming splashing of the rain, along with the rumbling claps of thunder. Seeing or hearing anything right now, would be near impossible. But he hasn’t seen any bright glowing red eyes, or orange flaming engines flying around, so that should, hopefully, mean they’re in the clear. For now..

Unable to see in the dark, he brushes a thumb over the quilled ball in his cupped hands, trying to check on the little fluff ball, who’s no longer shivering. A rough vibration with a small gruff sound from the little hedgehog was enough of a warning to not do that again. Okay. He still doesn’t like being touched. Noted.

Unfortunately, though, in this situation, without the advantage of sight; Sonic needed a free hand to feel around for directions, so Shadow was going to have to deal with it. And so, he shifted the little quilled ball into one hand–earning another little growl at the movement–and held him against his chest to help with keeping the wind from him.

And with a free hand, he reaches down into the water feeling for where he’d discarded his gloves–not wishing to leave a trail–before he steps out of their little shield in hopes of finding better shelter for the night. At least, someplace much drier.

“You are so going to owe me after this.” He grumbles aloud. The thunder, so graciously covering it up. Though, I do really hope you don’t remember any of this after you’re back to normal.

[illusionarylibrary]

𝓕𝓲𝓵𝓲 & 𝓝𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽 𝓕𝓾𝓻𝔂!𝓡𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻

CW: OOC(?)

-◦○◦━◦○◦━ ~●○°●○°●○~ ━◦○◦━◦○◦-

- Stories of dragons weren’t uncommon in Middle Earth and one particular story told of a dragon with scales black as a moonless night.

- However, none of these stories were consistent. Some say the dragon was as big as a mountain while others described it as small as a dog. The dragon had four wings, no, it had two but only hind legs! It had a purple fire, not true, that was just the lightning it could conjure…each detail was different except for the fact that the worst time it could strike was at night.

- Thus the beast was named the Night Fury, for when it attacked all hell would break loose.

- This beast brought storms and thunder, angering the skies and lighting up the clouds with lightning.

- This beast was you.

- You had eyes that were glimmering emeralds, holding a fierce and wild stare. Only two wings and four legs, with splittable spines for better flight. You were around the size of a large horse with a round head and six nubby ears.

- It was true, what the stories told of you hunting during the night, but you only ever attacked villages and kingdoms for food. It wasn’t fair, after all, that the creatures of the ground hogged all the food.

- So it was reasonable that you’d take your share of whatever it was you wanted to eat! You never emptied an entire stock, but you were still a dragon so you had to eat more than a normal creature.

- You also had to deal with that stupid wyvern that occupied the one lonely mountain. He was always stingy about you hunting in his territory, so just to avoid his nagging and annoying being, you stayed out of the way.

- It was one night you had found a group of small looking humans, dwarves or dwarrow of you knew them, a tinier person, and a man that reeked of magic. Some were by a campfire while others were living about doing whatever.

- Deciding you wanted to know what they were doing, seeing two of them were located by some ponies, you sneakily landed behind one of the dwarves and waited for him to discover you.

- The dwarf was on the taller side and had dirty blond hair. You could smell the many metal weapons on his being as he turned around and spotted you.

- Fili was trying to find his brother at the moment, who had probably wandered off, when he looked back. Two large and dilated eyes stared right back as the dwarf couldn’t tell what this creature was. He had slowly reached towards his sword before hearing the beast growl at his motion.

- You didn’t take too kindly towards aggression as a first impression, but you didn’t want to just fight the dwarf.

- Fili halted before going back to his previously relaxed, now somewhat stiff, posture. He looked utterly confused as to what the beast was, considering the moonlight couldn’t reach the forest floor and it hid in the shadows.

- You sensed the dwarf was a bit disoriented and didn’t make a move yet. Your pupils enlarged as you were relaxing, feeling that the dwarf wasn’t going to mindlessly attack you, unlike some other humans have done in your previous encounters.

- Fili tilted his head right before his eyes grew wide as saucers. You had emerged from where you hid and Fili was mortified.

- You were a dragon…he was interacting with a dragon.

- What should he do? Would you attack him? He should scream for the others, but you didn’t seem dangerous? What were you doing in this forest?

- Questions ran through Fili’s mind as he saw you sniffing around him and then sniff at his person entirely. You were noting where his weapons were and that he also appeared frighten now.

- You were a beast, but you had a mind as well. Trying to show you meant no harm, and were just curious to him and his group, you lay down and cooed towards the dwarf.

- Fili was now weirded out by the dragon’s antics. Why was it being so friendly? Was it playing dumb? It lay down…it couldn’t possibly be thinking of hurting him seeing it in such a docile state?

- You were gradually getting bored of the dwarf’s frozen stance and opted to make a move yourself. You brought your head forward and sniffed at his belt where his daggers were located. Fili had jolted, thinking the worst, before he saw you take a dagger into your mouth and…chew it?

- You noticed how nice the metal, since it was a stolen elven weapon from months ago, and enjoyed the taste of the metal. Now, you weren’t a Gronkle, but even dragons that weren’t obsessed with gold or rocks had an appreciation towards metals.

- Fili continued to look on as you just used his weapon like some kind of chew toy. It seemed the dragon had taken a liking to his dagger, but why wasn’t it flying away now? He watched as you dropped the weapon before diving in for one of his larger swords located over his shoulder. The dwarf flinched before he let out a kind of nervous chuckle as you began chewing on this weapon now.

- You held the weapon in your mouth before turning towards the dwarf. You tilted your head sideways and trilled before bumping your round muzzle to his chest, pushing him back a bit.

- Fili was surprised before he made a kind of offended sound and reached to push your head in retaliation. You were quick to drop the sword and shoved him back even harder. Before you knew it, you and the dwarf were wrestling on the floor- well, more like you were “manhandling” him and throwing him around as he knew how to brace himself.

- You didn’t know how long you were playing around with the blond dwarf before you and he heard the sound of another voice calling to him.

- Oh no, it was Kili! Fili looked panicked as he tapped your snout, you immediately letting go, and dropping him to the floor. You watched him collected the dagger and sword before dashing off into the dark forest.

- You were intrigued at what caught his attention, but also felt hungry now that you spent some of your energy using weapons and a dwarf as chew toys. You flew off into the night, camouflaged with the sky as you heard the voices of other dwarves yelling about “trolls” or something, not that you could care.

- It wouldn’t be until you were hunting spiders for food that you’d meet with the group again, missing their magic man. Perhaps next time, you’ll make some more dwarf friends?

- After all, this dwarf was so friendly despite your kind, what could go wrong?

[rate-every-bat]

I love this! Can you review the bumblebee bat? They’re so tiny and cute!

Of course! How could I resist the ittiest bittiest babies?

Today's Bat: Bumblebee Bat

Environmental Impact: The Bumblebee Bat (aka the Kitti's Hog-Nosed Bat) is small in everything it does. It has a small range, roosting mostly in the Bilauktaung Mountain's limestone caves and hunting in its bamboo forests. They hover to capture insects in flight, and remain in a solitary, torpor-like state the rest of the time to conserve energy. The world's smallest mammals also have one of the world's smallest environmental impacts: their low population size means they have little impact on insect populations. They are on the IUCN Redlist as near-threatened.

🦇🦇/5

Beauty: While the first thing that hits you about a Bumblebee Bat is their size, don't let this stop you from admiring their other amazing qualities. They have lovely, wideset nostrils. Their short, pointed ears and large wing-t0-body ratio create a unique silhouette. They come in both grey-coated and red-coated variants, for whether you'd prefer your bumblebees in Original or Spicy flavor.

🦇🦇🦇🦇/5

Power: You can't expect an amazing power score from a creature that weighs two grams. The most interesting thing I found about these guys is that their two distinct populations, Myanmar and Thailand, have distinct calls, with the Thai population using higher-frequencies. I'll keep my eyes peeled to learn more about them!

🦇🦇/5

Overall: This is another species that's tied to Merlin Tuttle in my mind, as he recalls his adventures in trying to capture photographs of them (like the one above) in his book, The Secret Lives of Bats. He mentions how fear has driven human populations to kill roosting Bumblebee bats (and many other species) despite their largely harmless natures, which was a major factor in what lead me to creating this blog. Thank you for helping me continue to spread love and acceptance of these tiny friends!

🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇/5

(Today's sources: Animal Diversity Web, Bat Conservation International)

[that-stone-butch]

Can I ask what sort of dog Tink is? I have a mixed dog of uncertain origin who has an uncanny resemblance to her and this might be a breakthrough.

well, she's a mixed breed without any sort of documentation or registry. but the animal shelter we adopted her from suggests that she is a mixture of a pointer breed (likely english pointer) and american pit bull terrier (likely red nose). this is colloquially referred to as 'pit pointers' which is only recognized by some breeding registries. that doesn't particularly matter to me, but it can make researching them a little difficult.

she very strongly resembles a pointer in her body and coat coloring, with spots beneath a white coat, but her face is squarer and resembles the red nose variety of pit bull.

above: an english pointer (she wasn't trained at a young age to point or for birding, but will occasionally do this when she wants something)

above: tink's coat and body shape. note that her haunches are similarly shaped to a pointer but a bit thicker. that's pit bull sprinting power right there! she has pointer spots but also large splotches of classic red nose amber fur.

above: a variety of red nose pit bull. that smile is fucking adorable.

above: tink's beautiful mug. she has an asymmetrical version of the red nose eye patches, and a squarer jaw and more prominent line down the center of her noggin than you would typically see in a pointer. these are older photos, as she is getting older and the greying of her face makes the original lines of her face markings a lot more blurred.

pit pointers aren't copiously documented (and aren't recognized by the AKC) but some have been used for hog hunting due to their love of denning- going into animal dens and flushing out a hog or other burrowing game so their owner can kill it. tink hasn't been trained for this but she does show a penchant for denning; jamming her snout into armpits, blankets, sofas, jackets, just about anything she can get into. she prefers to sleep having denned and 'burrowed' under a pillow, sofa cushion, or blanket. she even does this with large stuffed animals, if available. if trained properly, pit pointers are also great for hunting fowl, though their high energy may take some patience and restraint when it comes to pursuing game.

if you think you have a pit pointer or pit pointer mix, i recommend being a little extra careful with their skin/coat, as it is an allergy breed that can be sensitive to spring (tink gets the sniffles. it's adorable) and their skin is more sensitive to irritants. as for tink, her skin reddens really easily with exertion, heat, or heavy contact, which is common among red nose pit bulls. pit pointers tend to have high energy and are great to exercise with (i take tink on my runs when she can handle it, she's starting to develop a bit of arthritis), and are very affectionate and physical dogs, often preferring curling up on the couch with their owners and lots of body contact.

they're also adorable! hope that helps! i'm not a dog expert but i love dogs and love learning about them.

[boo-trekking]

Romulan Wedding Traditions: a headcanon ramble

I’m back again with a half baked Romulan take. I think they’re weddings probably still has some similarities to the Koon-ut-kal-if-fee. Except instead of duking it out on the hot sands of a dessert planet with the champion picked by your fiancé, it’s a little more complicated.

First off Romulus is described to be “a lush, humid world abundant with vegetation and large bodies of water”

So I’m thinking swamps and jungles (a Romulan on a fan boat makes my brain go brrrrrrr), where it’s easy to hide and challenging to hunt.

So on your wedding day no matter what your fiancé will present you with a challenge and that challenge is to hunt someone that they’ve picked but you don’t know who, and you bring them back to the specifications of your fiancé. So if they want them alive, you might just tie them up, but if they want them dead you might have to bring back their head or something. A real challenge is when they say dead or alive.

And then the trick of it is that the person they choose is someone you could really want dead, but you know your fiancé wants alive, like for example the fiancé’s ex. Do you show your fiancé how brutal you are by bringing back the head of the one who may have stood in your way, or do you hog tie the son of a bitch and pout about it? Either way it sets the tone for the marriage.

Also it’s not really guaranteed that you’d bring them back alive if asked, because traditionally you are meant to kill the one your fiancée picks, but more modern sentiments have made way for change.

So if your fiancé sends you after her father and asks that he not die, you only really have to bring him back. If you’re polite, you’ll say that he slipped and drowned and you weren’t able to revive him and everyone will look the other way at the strangulation marks on his neck. Or if you really are cruel you will bring him back and shoot him dead in front of your fiancé. And either way you are getting married.

The only way to get out of a marriage is to not bring back the one the fiancé picked. So let’s say you have the entire 25 hour cycle of the day to get this person. You could decide just to camp out, or miss your shot and if you can avoid finding the person and comeback empty handed then no marriage.

Or on the fiancé’s end they could request someone too hard to get/someone that doesn’t exist. I like to think it used to be in fashion to request someone who was dead. Until some dude who was really in love with his fiancé decided to say fuck it and broke in the family crypt and carefully exhumed and carried his fiancé great grandmother to the ceremony. Everyone’s horrified and a little grossed out (because the ggma had been dead long enough for decomposition to start), but the fiancé is laughing so hard.

Because she actually did want her great grandmother there, they were very close. She didn’t want to marry this guy cause she just didn’t want to get married yet, she was nervous. But here’s this guy who is lovingly cradling her ggma in his arms. He literally brought the only person who would’ve soothed her into this. And she gladly married him, and they immediately bring the ggma back, and then the trend falls out of fashion cause ew wtf.

It’s also a big deal to be the one the fiancé picks. I would call it an honor but you could possibly die so. It’s considered a big social faux pas to refuse to be the one hunted out right but there are ways to get out of it if you feel like you might die. Some people take on an extra stint of military service (not that it’s voluntary, but maybe they’ll be taking on a tour they could’ve sat out of idk), some others claim they are trying for a child (this is really popular among single women who are suspected to be a lover to the one who hunts, real tongue and cheek shit), but sometimes the only thing that will work is to change your name.

The way picking works is you have to present the persons name. Because there is so much secrecy in Romulan culture, names are really tricky, so maybe the name given is just your common name and you decide to be a stickler and insist on the full four names in order for you to be the hunted. Or maybe you go to your family and ask to change your name there as to throw off the picker.

But it is a little awkward if the picker is your brother and you know he wants you dead so that when your father dies he will be head of the house instead of you, the oldest. And you know his fiancé would kill you even if your brother said they didn’t have to, because the fiancé is the youngest in their family and they have twelve siblings to get through before it’s their turn. So helping their fiancé become head of their family is just a smart move. Lucky for you your dad saw this years ago and already changed your family name, but waited until your brother already picked your full old name so now he has to pick someone else. He’ll pick the father out of spite, but the fiancé won’t kill him. After all, your dad used to be his commanding officer, it wouldn’t feel right.

It’s the hunted’s duty to make the hunt difficult, even if they know they’ll live at the end of it. So they’ll set traps and sneak around. I like to think that Romulan’s have houses similar to Klingons, and those houses have their own variations on the traditional ceremony. So maybe the hunted must hide in a particular place based on their house tradition, or they must throw the hunter off with a certain system.

I can imagine a house who often picks children to be hunted, that way it doubles as a test for the child’s skills. So maybe the fiancé very sweetly gives her little sister a present and asks her to be the hunted. And this 13 year old kid is absolutely STOKED to give her brother in law hell. So not only does she hide, but she starts counter hunting him. And he DIDN’T PLAN FOR THAT. So right when he’s looking at the barrel of a Romulan cross bow, beaten and bloodied by a kid who still sleeps with a night light, he’s fully accepted he’ll be the first in history to be killed and brought back. She looks at him and says something like “When you marry my sister…may I live in your house? I…don’t want to be without her.” And he says yes without hesitation because his fiancé already asked if it was okay, and he’s grown up knowing the little sister too and knows that it’s not the best for her at home (without much detail, Romulan secrets you know), and this kid just drops the crossbow and starts crying because she was really worried she was gonna lose her sister! And so he lightly bounds her hands, they make it back to the ceremony. Folks are congratulating her for giving him hell but snickering at the number this tween did to that guys face! All in all it works out, they are married and the sister moves in with them, and when it’s her turn to marry she kindly asks her niece…who has been trained from birth to return the favor.

Overall I feel that Romulans are just so complex and secretive, that a freaky (affectionate) marriage challenge feels right up their alley. They aren’t governed by logic, but by secrecy and deadly hide and seek feels right.