#pigs ears wholesale

[healthypetsnacks]

Pigs Ears are a very popular product. Made from 100%, dehydrated Grade B Pig Ear, with no artificial chemicals or preservatives, they give a delicious taste and satisfying chew that all dogs are sure to love.

[anyafernaldbelcampo]

Pork Perfection: Wholesale Cuts for Every Dish

Pork is the epitome of versatility in the culinary world. From succulent roasts to sizzling bacon, this meat offers a myriad of flavors and textures that can elevate any dish. Whether you're a professional chef or a home cook, understanding the different wholesale cuts of pork and how to utilize them is essential for achieving culinary excellence. In this comprehensive guide, we'll explore the various wholesale cuts of pork and provide insights into how each cut can be best utilized to create mouthwatering dishes.

Shoulder (Boston Butt): The shoulder, also known as the Boston Butt, is a flavorful and versatile cut of pork. It's well-marbled with fat, making it ideal for slow cooking methods such as braising, roasting, or smoking. When cooked low and slow, the shoulder becomes tender and succulent, making it perfect for pulled pork sandwiches, carnitas, or hearty stews.

Loin: The loin is one of the leanest and most tender cuts of pork. It's divided into two main sections: the back loin and the tenderloin. The back loin, also known as the pork chop, is best suited for grilling, pan-searing, or roasting. Its mild flavor and tender texture make it a favorite among pork lovers. The tenderloin, on the other hand, is incredibly tender and lean, making it perfect for quick cooking methods like grilling or pan-searing. It's often sliced into medallions or used whole for elegant roasts.

Belly: The belly is perhaps best known for its role in creating everyone's favorite breakfast staple: bacon. However, it's also a fantastic cut for other culinary creations. When cured and smoked, pork belly transforms into crispy, savory bacon that adds flavor to everything from sandwiches to salads. Additionally, uncured pork belly can be slow-roasted or braised to create melt-in-your-mouth dishes like pork belly confit or crispy pork belly with apple compote. Click over here Anya Fernald Belcampo

Leg (Ham): The leg, commonly referred to as ham, is a versatile cut that can be enjoyed in various forms. Whether it's cured and smoked for traditional holiday feasts or roasted for everyday meals, ham offers a rich and savory flavor that appeals to many palates. It can also be sliced thinly for sandwiches or cubed for soups and stews. Leftover ham can be transformed into delectable dishes like ham and cheese quiche or ham and bean soup.

Hocks: Pork hocks, also known as pork knuckles, are a lesser-known but incredibly flavorful cut of pork. They're prized for their rich, gelatinous texture and robust flavor, making them ideal for adding depth to soups, stews, and braises. Pork hocks are often used in traditional dishes like German Eisbein or Southern-style collard greens. When slow-cooked, they release their collagen, resulting in a silky-smooth texture and unparalleled flavor.

Spareribs and Baby Back Ribs: Ribs are a beloved indulgence in many cuisines around the world, and pork ribs offer exceptional flavor and tenderness. Spareribs, cut from the belly side of the rib cage, are meatier and more substantial, making them perfect for slow smoking or grilling. Baby back ribs, cut from the loin side of the rib cage, are leaner and more tender, making them ideal for quick grilling or roasting. Both cuts can be seasoned with dry rubs or marinated in flavorful sauces for irresistible barbecue dishes.

Feet and Ears: While not as commonly used in Western cuisines, pork feet and ears are prized ingredients in many Asian and Latin American dishes. Pork feet, also known as trotters, are prized for their gelatinous texture and are often used to add richness to soups, stews, and stocks. Pork ears are prized for their crispy texture and are often used in dishes like crispy pig ear salad or braised pig ears in soy sauce.

Understanding the various wholesale cuts of pork opens up a world of culinary possibilities. Whether you're craving a hearty stew, a succulent roast, or a crispy bacon sandwich, there's a perfect cut of pork to satisfy your appetite. By utilizing different cuts and cooking methods, you can elevate your dishes and delight your taste buds with the rich flavors and textures that pork has to offer. So, the next time you're planning a meal, consider incorporating one of these wholesale cuts of pork for a truly unforgettable dining experience.

[allcreatureswarehouse]

The Wholesale Dog Food Supply Market

Numerous local and national brands and retailers make up this Animal Supplies Warehouse sector. In the name of pet love, some of the more notable names are Walmart and PetSmart, which provide a variety of pet goods.

Although there are other smaller markets in the sector, pet specialty shops and warehouse clubs are the most well-liked pet supply retailers. PetSmart offers a wide variety of branded and unbranded pet supplies among these. They have a huge selection of products and educated employees. They also have a fantastic pet insurance programme, which is great for customers. They sell products for humans as well as pet-related items, such as clothing, literature, and gadgets.

Bulk purchases of pet-related goods are another excellent strategy to lower acquisition prices. ValuePetSupplies is one company in particular that excels at selling wholesale pet supplies. 

They have a wide selection of products that includes anything from bully sticks and male dog wraps to pig ears and puppy pads. They offer high-quality pet care items at reasonable pricing, although possibly being a little more expensive than the competitors.

Make sure to compare prices to get the greatest deals whether you're looking to get a new pet or are an experienced veterinarian. Making the effort to accomplish this can result in significant savings, therefore the time investment is worthwhile.

[naturaltreats]

Is Buying Pigs Ears From Dog Treat Manufacturers In UK Worth It?

Pig ears are great treats for dogs. As the name suggests, pig ears are made so that no part of the pig goes wasted. The ears are processed and heated to dry, which dogs a lot. Do you know that eating this food item has a lot of benefits for your pet? Pig ears are highly nutritious and also contain vitamins and minerals. Besides, one can purchase these from dog treat manufacturers in UK.

5 Benefits Of Offering Your Pet The Pigs Ears

Your furry friend surely deserves the treat for being a good listener and responding to your commands. The treats are healthy for their mental and physical body. Read further to know about the perks of giving pig ears to your pup.

1. It Is A Healthy Food Item

The pig’s ears have fat, protein, ash, moisture, iron, and many more nutritious components. It is helpful for the overall growth of their body. Moreover, the key ingredients, like chondroitin and glucosamine, are good for skin and bone health.

2. Chewable For Hours

Offering your pooch with the pigs ears for dogs in UK can be a great idea if they are a playful one in your home and always craves your attention, then. It will divert their mind, and the ears can last many days before finishing it.

3. Good For Their Teeth

When the dog chews the rough and tough pig ear bought from the dog treat manufacturers in UK, plaque and tartar on their teeth are gradually removed. But, one should not always rely on a pig’s ear to care for their oral health.

4. Beneficial For Dog’s Hair

As we have mentioned earlier, the pig’s ear has a high protein level, which can be fruitful for the dog’s skin and hair. The protein will help a lot in formulating new skin and hair cells. Further, it will help avoid serious troubles such as Ticks, Alopecia, Flea Allergy Dermatitis, and even Black Skin Disease.

5. Great For Their Belly

Since the pig ears are purchased from the dog treat manufacturers, they can be considered natural treats and not artificial flavored or colored ones. Further, the flavored treat to the dogs can be harmful as it can upset their stomach and cause problems like vomiting, and diarrhea.

Purchase The Memorable Treat Today!

Pig treats are affordable and a great treat for your furry friend. If you are searching for the item, you can rely on Pet Treats Wholesale Trade. They have many more products like

dog sausage 100% meat

etc. Reach out to them to learn more about their products.

[walksinlatewithcoffee]

I do very much get the appeal of makin Technoblade designs Big but I have a very special place in my heart for the comically small Techno.

Just a twig of a man, who looks like he’s snap in half under any kind of pressure, and he’s wholesale beating ass.

Like when you see a dude who’s built like a brick shithouse with tusks and a pig skull on his head, and everyone’s scared of him, yeah whatever.

But the concerningly skinny beanpole with bunny ears of all things? The guy who needs out over vegetable farming and adores fluffy animals??? And everyone’s terrified of him? That’s weird. That’s concerning.

And there’s always the funny image of Techno’s deep ass voice coming out of the softest looking thing.

It’s a contradiction, because at heart Techno is a contradiction. He’s soft and kind yet brutal and powerful. Nothing about him makes sense. Blood for the blood god.

[peacefiresky-archive]

hunting song

Eleski’s brows furrowed, her anger ebbing further upwards. “Everything falls to an arrow to the chest.” “Not everything,” Ma said. Her arms began to tremble - she would sometimes have fits of weakness, where she could barely hold herself upright. “No arrow can fell the Fanged Stag.”

the beastfolk company belongs to @mothermara !

Eleski Ahlealdottir hadn’t earned her name yet. She had just seen her seventeenth winter, and she thought she might starve before she had the chance.

Shor’s Stone was a mining town, making their meager profits from the iron inside the mountains; they were poor, they were tired, and they were hungry. Eleski started hunting when she was young, apprenticed under her father, running through the forests of the Rift with laughter in her lungs and joy in her heart. Pa said she would be a natural, and she was - she could track a stag from Ivarstead to Riften without losing its trail, always knowing just where to land her arrow that it would fall without suffering.

“Easy,” her father would whisper. “Focus your breathing. Keep your eyes on the stag.”

It was as easy as drawing breath for her, her heart beating to the notes of a song she knew since birth. Her mind felt clouded and cleared all at once. Her eyes focused, her muscles tensed - and her arrow found its mark.

--

“Blessed by Kyne!” Her father cheered in his rolling accent, clapping her back when they came into the village. The doe was taken from around her shoulders, and Pa’s voice was like thunder congratulating her. The miners ate well that night, and Eleski crawled into her furs with a full stomach and a new deer-hide cloak. She hovered on the edge of sleep, imaginary scenarios drifting through her mind.

What if I find a dragon, she thought, her mind conjuring up images of the glorious beasts. What if I kill a dragon? Can you eat dragons? Can you ride them?

Just as she was about to drift off, there was a voice - on instinct, she laid still, quiet, silent, as her mother - when had Ma came to her side of the house? -whispered something she couldn’t understand, caressing her forehead. She traced the mark of the Eldergleam and Eleski fought back a flinch. It felt wrong when Ma did it. She couldn't explain why. “Child of the chase,” she sighed wistfully, before drawing away.

--

They were prosperous, her and Pa working jointly to bring in enough food to keep them fed through the winter. They never took in excess - Ma had warned her of a deer, with antlers crafted by Kyne and teeth sharpened by the daedra, who came in the night to steal away those who took more than they needed.

She had been terrified, and her Pa was amused, but compliant. “It’s about respect,” he told her when she was curled into her furs, clutching his hunting dagger in case the deer decided to take her away. “Respect the creatures you hunt, respect the woods you stalk, respect the men and women you work to feed, and Kyne will protect you.”

It was a lesson she learned easily. Every other day, she would disappear into the woods, listening to the steady music of her heart, and return with rabbits and deer and, if she was lucky, a wild pig, wolf, or moose.

That was all before Helmar Thaneson.

His father was some noble from Solitude, coming to Shor’s Stone after a scandal involving ties with the Bear of Windhelm; despite living among the miners and poor folk, he managed to afford his son every entitlement, every privilege. Helmar got away with anything he wished.

He was huge, and terrifying, and Eleski’s best friend, though not by choice. He would hurt her if she tried to leave him - he had said as much, and proved it through the scars on her face. He was touched in the head by Uncle Sheo - he was strong, sure, and a damn good brawler, but messy, uncaring, stupid. He chased the foxes and rabbits around the village and when he caught them - and he always caught them -, he’d throw them into the boiling stew, still alive and squealing. He thought it was funny to pounce on her like a wild cat, leaving her features marred and slashed by ribbons of red.

He hunted with her, too. Not properly; there was no careful footing, no learning the land, what creatures were mature and which were too young to give good meat. He left that to Eleski. That was how he grew so attached to her- they would venture off together into the thick woods, Eleski wincing at the sound of his heavy footfalls as he marched carelessly through the Rift. If she strained her ears, she could hear the wood’s creatures fleeing through the trees.

He was also bloodthirsty. She had watched, helpless, as he used his warhammer to savagely crush a stag’s ribs; all the while, he just laughed as it died, slowly and painfully. The meat was unusable, and the poor creature suffered a cruel death. Helmar's eyes were bright with mirth and joy - and that laugh set frost in her heart. Eleski didn’t like to watch her marks suffer. It was cruel - they were living creatures, just as much as she and Helmar. When she objected, he marched right up to her and cracked her cheek, the sound like wood splitting. The bruise had yet to heal after three weeks, and there was still a divet in her cheek where the bone had cracked. It ached in the winter.

The rabbits and foxes stopped appearing in the village’s outskirts. The deer were slaughtered wholesale, and so stopped grazing in the woods nearby. The wolves, starving, followed their prey; all that was left were the rats and vermin. Even the skeevers were skinny and disease ridden, barely enough meat to cook into a cabbage stew, but that was only when it didn’t fester moments after harvesting.

--

“We’re cursed,” she told Ma. “We’re cursed and it’s Helmar’s fault.”

“You seem so certain,” her mother replied, voice light and airy. Pa always said that he mistook Ma for a wisp mother when they first met; her hair was blonde, nearly white, her skin a luminescent alabaster, unmarred by freckles or moles. Even her eyes were ethereal, bluer than the glaciers to the north. Eleski took more after her father - tawny skin, thick, honey-gold hair, dotted by freckles and moles and crinkled, laughing eyes.

“I am.” Eleski set her bow down, slamming the door shut and roughly tugging her braids loose. She didn’t bother combing them out. “He killed the fawns before they could grow and mate. He ate through our crops like a starved rabbit.” She sat at the wooden bench, crossing her arms. Her father was tending to the hearth, the ghost of a smile on his lips. His amusement only angered her further. “He and his pa grow fat with fortune and food and the rest of us starve!”

Pa clicked his tongue, stirring a pot of boiling water. A chopped, skinny carrot and wilted cabbage leaf floated lazily within it. “And just what are you going to do about it?”

“I’ll kill him myself,” she replied. She knew she might just be mad enough to do it.

“Don’t be silly,” Ma hummed. “You’re not a killer.”

“I’ve killed plenty!” Eleski stood from her seat, eyes flaring. So fierce for one so young; wolf-blooded, Pa always said. “I’m a hunter! I’ve killed more than anyone in this village!”

“Don’t be so naive.” Pa tapped the wooden spoon against the pot, and set about pouring the soup into bowls.

Ma just laughed, the sound hollow and empty, shaking her head. “No, she may be right. But it would do her well to remember there’s a difference between killing a deer and killing a person.”

Eleski’s brows furrowed, her anger ebbing further upwards. “Everything falls to an arrow to the chest.”

“Not everything,” Ma said. Her arms began to tremble - she would sometimes have fits of weakness, where she could barely hold herself upright. “No arrow can fell the Fanged Stag.”

Pa raised his brow, and Eleski paused. Ma’s eyes stared dispassionately towards her, and slowly, she lowered herself to sit back on the wooden bench. Pa placed a bowl in front of Ma, then Eleski, and then took a seat for himself.

Ma raised the bowl to her lips, drinking deeply as though it was something holy, and sighed longingly as she placed it back onto the table. Her hands were shaky as she flattened her palms on the table. “He always collects the Hunter’s debts. May he take that blasted child’s heart and use it to breathe life back into these woods.”

Eleski’s ma looked like a woman out of a fairytale, and acted like it too, always reminding Eleski and Pa of old superstitions to be mindful of, murmuring vague prophecies and curses. Pa’s eyes, bark-brown and softened by age, met Eleski’s, sharp and vengeful. They never quite understood. Eleski wasn’t sure they ever would.

They didn’t speak until late that night, when her father traced the mark of the Eldergleam on her forehead - a nighttime blessing, his thumb connecting the leaves to the trunk. Eleski sighed and flopped onto her cot, and prayed that sleep would ease the pains of her stomach.

--

Her rest was fitful, as it always was. She dreamed of chasing, of being chased, her legs aching as the Game reversed; she dreamed of her frost-bitten hands warmed by blood, her mother’s, her father’s, Helmar’s; she dreamed of a red moon, hung in the sky like a blood boil ready to be lanced -

She woke to the sound of a scream.

She jolted upwards, her heart racing; she had a nightmare, but couldn’t recall of what - there was every chance that the scream was just an echo of her mind’s terrors, she told herself. And if it wasn’t that, it was a fox - she used to bolt out of the house every week, convinced some poor woman was being slaughtered, only to find Shor’s little fox laughing gleefully, satisfied at his prank.

The scream echoed again. It was deep, guttural; too human, too pained to be a fox’s cry. She pushed herself from her bed, flung the doe-skin cloak around her shoulders, pulled on her leather-soled shoes, and rushed towards the door, grabbing her father’s hunting dagger from its place by the hearth as she went. She threw open the door, the cold air stinging her face and eyes, before she gasped -

Her mother, ethereal and half-present in the moonlight, stood facing her. Her eyes, silvery blue and unblinking, bore into hers. She looked like a ghost, a fae, a wisp floating in the fields. She looked anything but mortal.

“The Stag always repays the Hunter’s debts,” she echoed, her voice like a bell.

Eleski tried to calm her racing heart. “Ma?”

“He comes and He hunts and He chases. He is His Father’s Son, though he wishes it not so.”

“Ma, you need to go inside.”

“He’s calling for you,” Ma sing-songed, pausing just long enough for that terrible screech to echo, bouncing through the village. “Can’t you hear him? You should go, watch the hunt; partake, if you want. I would. Oh, how I would.”

Eleski stared at her mother and saw a stranger. Her mother stared back, without warmth, without love - her eyes were empty.

“Go inside,” Eleski said, before turning towards the woods and running.

It was harder to navigate in the night, the only light being the dappled moonbeams filtered through leaves. Her feet thumped steadily below her, twigs snapping softly in time with her heartbeat. Tha-thump, tha-thump, her blood sang. A tree trunk in the shape of a bear marked the one-mile mark. An eagle’s nest marked the second. The thickening of the tree trunks marked the third. She ran, following those shrill wails, ears straining - before hands grabbed her from behind.

She stifled a scream as she was pushed against a tree trunk, a meaty hand muffling her - she slashed uselessly at it with her dagger, before the figure suddenly backed away. It left something on her face, some kind of liquid, warm and smelling of copper.

“Eles?” The voice was shaky, deep and familiar.

“...Helmar?” She hissed, panting, wiping away the liquid on her face with her sleeve, still brandishing the dagger threateningly. “What in Oblivion are you doing out here?”

“Running,” he whispered. She could see him trembling, even in the low light. “I’m running.”

“Running from what?”

“From it-” He tried to take a step forward, his knee buckling from under him. He groaned as he fell, reaching out to her - though she only took a step away from him, staring as he laid there, kneeling.

“Help me,” he whimpered. “Please. Please, I don’t wanna die.”

Her eyes had finally adjusted to the darkness, and she could see the wound. Her first thought, superstitious and silly, was the Stag.

Don’t be so naive. “What did this?” She asked, looking down at him. Some great beast had taken a chunk out of Helmar's leg. She could see the bone, and it called to her. Her heartbeat slowed to a steady rhythm. She heard music.

“I - I don’t know, I didn’t see-”

“It hurts, doesn’t it?”

The boy faltered, his breath hitching. Eleski’s voice had chilled from a fluttering panic to a strange sort of calm. “Y-Yes,” he muttered.

“I bet it does.” Her chest was still heaving, her voice breathy. “You’ll never walk again, not with that wound.”

“I - I -” Helmar stuttered uselessly. She had leaned forward, her body moving on its own accord; he fell backwards, palms pressing against the dirt as he tried in vain to scramble away. Eleski felt a rush of power, looming over him. Quietly, she kneeled beside him.

The forest was silent, save for his heaving breath, and the wind through trees.

“You’re - you’re nice, Eles,” He pleaded, smiling fearfully. “You’re nice. You can - can help me walk again, help me - help -”

“It’s nice to put animals out of their pain,” she hummed, blood pounding through her ears as she raised the dagger.

“No,” he sobbed, voice cracking, smile fading. “No, please, I’m sorry -”

She raised it higher, her free hand going to clutch at the hilt. The music soared joyfully.

“Eles - Eles, please -”

The sound of a branch snapping broke her out of her torpor, the melody broken; her head snapped towards the sound.

Her eyes searched in the darkness, but - nothing. Nothing, save for the flash of a stag’s antlers. She glanced down to the sobbing boy beside her, and shakily lowered her dagger.

“Let this be a lesson,” she whispered, voice not entirely her own.

She pushed herself to her feet, glancing back to the source of the sound. There, barely visible in the moonlight, she could just make out the shape of a huge deer, his antlers stretched above him like the branches of the Eldergleam; as its gleaming eyes bore into hers, she clutched her dagger so tight the hilt made an indent in her palm.

It could feed us for weeks, she thought. She felt herself shake with the force of the thought, images of her parents well-fed, her hands bloody, flashing through her mind. The beginnings of a melody sounded in her ears. That meat could save us. Hunt it. Hunt it. Hunt-

She took a step backwards, not breaking its gaze. It stepped forward in time, hooves leaving no tracks. She paused, before shakily lowering her head.

It stared, and lowered its head - it seemed to nod, and so she turned and she ran. She pretended not to hear the sound of bones cracking under hooves, of flesh squelching between teeth. She pretended not to hear Helmar’s wailing screams, broken cries for mercy, and bitter curses. As she bolted further away, lungs burning from the exertion, she pretended not to hear as Helmar Thaneson’s dying screeches came to a sudden stop.

She broke from the treeline, dried blood still caking the side of her face. Ma wasn’t on the porch; in fact, it was as if no one in the village was awake. She came to a stumbling stop, chest aching as she struggled for air. She rested her hands on her knees as she doubled over, and emptied the cabbage-carrot soup by the porch of her home.

***

When Eleski Kyne-Blood, who had just passed eighteen winters, returned to the village, she was dragging a moose on a skiff behind her. It had taken time, but nature’s blessing returned to Shor’s Stone - birds sang in the trees, hearty meals of venison and goat and boar were had every night, and the rabbits and foxes played at the village’s edge.

Her eyes looked forward - her father was there, as he always was when she went off on her own, awaiting her return. He seemed to be talking to a group of adventurers - that’s what she assumed, at least. A moss-skinned Orc in heavy armor, a scaled Argonian in mage’s clothes, a green-eyed Khajiit in robes, a wood elf in light armor, a Nord in an iron cuirass, a gold elf in master’s robes - they were outsiders, and Pa seemed happy enough talking with them. He loved outsiders.

His amber eyes lit like a wildfire when they fell on her and her prize. “Just in time,” he called. Eleski squinted against the sun, waving in response as she grew closer. “We’ll be having guests tonight!”

Her arms ached from dragging the damned moose as she finished her approach - a fact the Orc woman seemed to notice. She gave a tusk-toothed smile, and Eleski went a bit red despite herself. The Orc gestured to the skiff. “Here, let me get that for you.”

“Ah, uh - thanks.” Eleski moved so she could take hold of it. She watched as the woman dragged it with ease to the center of the village, until her father clapped her on the back.

He cleared his throat, and with a dramatic flare that made him seem much younger, he declared, “Meet the Beastfolk Company! These fine mercenaries took care of a few bandits who’d planned a raid. Stopped them before they could get to the village.”

Eleski again looked over the Company. They were raggedy, a bit bruised, and covered in dirt and mud. She smiled. “Wind be at your back,” she greeted. “You’ll fit in just fine.”

“We’re not planning on staying long,” said the elf. “Ah - I am Syrabane. We ask for nothing but a warm meal and a place to sleep.”

“And a bath,” said the Argonian towards the elf. They turned towards Eleski. “Hi. I’m Weedum. Praise be to Todd.”

“Oh, are we doing introductions?” The Khajiit’s ears perked up, their tale lashing excitedly behind them. “I’m Aldra!”

“I’m Maces,” said the Nord. He seemed a bit quiet.

The wood elf was silent until Weedum poked his side. “Rindolin,” he said simply.

“Badbr!” called the Orc woman, armor clanking as she jogged over to join them. She flashed that same toothy grin. “Good to meet you.”

“Eleski,” she responded. They were a motley crew, and yet something about them struck her as warm. Welcoming. “We’ve a few bedrolls to spare, and I’m guessin’ my father already opened our hearth to you.”

Pa beamed.

“Make yourselves at home,” she continued, nodding to the group. “We’ll get some stew started.”

They made their way around the village, chattering among themselves. Badbr and Syrabane went first, with Rindolin following them, and Weedum following him. Aldra spared a glance towards Maces, before disappearing into the hut. Soon, all that was left was Pa, Eleski, and Maces-the-Nord.

There was a short silence, before one spoke. “There’s not normally just one hunter in a village,” Maces said, staring off into the woods. “It’s safer in groups. What happened to the others?”

Pa answered before she could. “I’m gettin’ too old. We’re a small enough village - we make do with just the one.” They didn’t talk about what happened to Helmar. No one really knew. Maces hummed absentmindedly, eyes still trained on the forest, and Eleski got the feeling he knew that wasn’t the whole truth.

“You should get inside,” Eleski said. “Sundown’s approaching.”

Maces glanced towards her, raising a brow. “You don’t stay out past sundown?”

“Strange creatures lurk in those woods.”

He laughed quietly, eyes glinting, and Eleski went to bed that night after endless stories with a full stomach, a warm cloak, and a secret shared.

[scoochieusa]

Get a Pet Bed at Wholesale Rate to Pamper Your Dog

A dog is a companion like no other and having a loyal dog as your pet can give you unfathomable happiness. When your dog is moving the world to prove his loyalty and keep you protected, you too can contribute to his happiness and pamper him with dog care products available at Scoochie Pet Products. Time to get your dog his own pet bed at wholesale rates and the look of excitement on his face and his gestures will make your day.

Ensure that your dog sleeps comfortably

We understand that your dog means the world to you and you want it to have a peaceful night’s sleep so that it can wake up fresh the next day and brighten up your world with its cute acts and gestures. Buying a pet bed at wholesale rates is a win-win option for you. The myriad range of pet beds and crate pads will make it easier for you to make your choice. Choose a comfortable bed for your dog and see your pet cuddling in the comfort of its bed.

Keep your dog entertained

Now that you have made sure that your dog is comfortable in its bed, it is time to arrange some entertainment for your pet. For that, you can get several dog chews and dog toys available under one roof. You can buy plush dog toys, latex dog toys, rope dog toys, poochie balls, water bottle dog toys, clip strips, dump bins, and many more. If you are looking for dog chews, you can get bully sticks, cow ears, cow hooves, dental chews, natural bones, pig ears, rawhide bones, rawhide chips, twister bones, and other value packs.

Avail of the products at a wholesale rate

To buy these pet products at a wholesale rate, you need to sign up for an account. Once you submit the form with complete details, and your application is approved, you will be welcomed into the Scoochie Pet Products as a dealer, and start placing your orders. You can also subscribe to the newsletter to get the notification of the latest launches and product discounts.  

[healthypetsnacks]

Pigs Ears are a very popular product. Made from 100%, dehydrated Grade A Pig Ear, with no artificial chemicals or preservatives, they give a delicious taste and satisfying chew that all dogs are sure to love. Naturally chewy and completely delicious.

[redtemple-wra]

Catch... And Release

The following is a collab effort by the rest of the cultists of the Red Temple.

It was a bleak afternoon. Drab, boring. It felt pointless and without purpose. The distant sobbing of prisoners acted as background noise, a mere song to liven the spirits of the temple’s residents with its symphony.

Awh, but the Goddess of Love hadn’t the time to dilly dally in the middle of the hallway. Instantly she made her way for the Oratorium, swiftly pushing the door open in one gentle tug of the knob and shove of her shoulder it’s it’s frame.

She had entered without permission, her confidence as condescending as her gait, alas her features remained frozen in a thoughtful expression as she meandered about. What the maiden first noticed within the drab, darkly lit tomb of a room was the silence. Such a silence, in Deith's mind, that was suffocating.

Nothing good came of dead silence, the demons of peoples minds would sometimes become too loud and tear you apart from within-- it was the entire reason the shirtless goddess was ruffling books and tinkering with ornaments and relics, her fingers sometimes adjust the thin, nearly translucent skirts upon her hips, therein rattling the bells attached at the ends for just that much more.. noise.

Finally, she couldn't take it, her voice naturally soft and alluring as she calls forth: "Orator! I desire an audience with you and the rest of our kin!"

The answer to her call was a bolt of fire, vibrant flames growing up from the ground that would catch the attention of the vibrant goddess.

Vivival stepped forward, flames refusing the spread to her, a sneer on her features.  In her hands was a charred skull, ash flaking from the more burned parts.  "I see, its whore o clock already,” the draenei snarked toward the kaldorei, “Need the Orator to give you direction beyond lusting after captives?  Or just hoping he gives you another fuck toy?"

The condescending smile had suddenly manifested upon the kaldorei's lips as she turned to address the haughty draenei. Despite such an enticing grin, Deith looked simply unamused. 

Her eyes ere cold and features pinched with frustration as she sneers and snarks, "You need to loosen up a little, Hotstuff."

This was all Deith said, long stiletto nails proceeding to comb through her beach waves, the teal tendrils moved around enough to expose her left breast, therein exposing painted sternum and underbust tribal markings

From the doorway of which Deith had, too, entered, the Demon Hunter of their enterprise announced his presence with a clear of his throat and a single whooshing flap of his large wings.

"Deith. Modest as ever, I see," noticed the also shirtless hunter, the smirk carrying in his voice, if not his face, given the open scream mask he wore as he watched her like a hawk. His eyeless gaze turned briefly on Vivival with a snickering snort heard upon his teasing query, "Does that skull carry any purpose, or is the aim just to make you look dramatic and 'spooky'?"

Pointedly Vivial shot back at the hunter, her tone haughty, “It’s purpose is a sacrifice.  A test to see how quickly I can burn all bones“

Finally, the demon hunter’s head tilted toward Deith. It hadn’t taken a genius to place the confusion and wonder in his voice as he mumbled, "You called? What is it this time?"

The Goddess of Love bore a gentle smile whilst she turns to fully face her kin, "This time," Deith hums, offering the hunter a once over in acknowledgment, "I have called the meeting. It's time. We need to decide what to do next."

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Her statement seemed to be quite vague, but not nearly enough for the two other corrupted god and goddess of the temple, both casting incredulous glances toward one another.

The Demon Hunter spoke first, a scoff on his tone.

"Kill her, experiment on and brainwash the child,"  Leresdelor said matter-of-factly, giving a dismissive shrug as his mask turned back to Deith. "Perhaps we can use the child as a guinea pig to enhance our own servants."

"Or even make her one of our own servants,"  Vivi grinned, that smile always just a smidge too big.

The very idea had caused Deith to tense, her motherly instincts consuming her. Of course, she had not spoken out on the idea of harming the child-- At least, not yet.

"Keep the child," Deith nods slowly, inhaling deeply before remarking what she was certain would be the unpopular option, "Release the whore."

"Release... As in, release her spirit from her body, yes?"

Deith’s eyes glared toward Leres, preparing to challenge the smug man-- until a chill overwhelmed the three. The room became.. Cold. So much Vivi’s flames visibly suffered, losing their intensity and shriveling into a smaller flame.

“ Hush." 

That single word brought all three of the dark pantheon to lift their eyes and inspect the shadows of the room, pointedly quieting upon the command.

The very same voice which spoke this command comes forth a second time, melodic and singing a lullaby in a creepy and unnerving nursey rhyme manner, "Hush little baby, don't cry a word, father's going to find you a sharpened sword...hush little darling don't say a thing, mama's going to find you a dead plaything..."

From the wall emerges the Orator, the swaddled form of the child in question in his hands, his bone mask stark white in contrast to the black and shade cast by his hood. The grip he held on Vivian was gentle but firm. In the eyes of Deith.. It was protective.

"No. Release the whore wholesale, untouched, with the knowledge that her child will be reared within this temple to join our unborn pantheon,” The Orator promptly expressed, bringing a smile to Deith’s eyes whilst Leresdelor scoffs and Vivi sneers.

"Let her tear herself apart with grief, let her rally allies to come to us. They are unprepared for the horrors within these walls, and then we might reap the worthy and fill the pools with their blood,” Deith agrees, uncaring to beckon the Orator for his agreeance for her to speak up.

The two others sneered at the kaldorei’s reckless and disrespectful fashion, but with the Orator’s nod toward them would they speak up.

"Sadly, they cannot find us.  I am well aware of that.  If they wish to find us, we will have to lead them, step by pathetic step,” Vivi mutters out, clearly disgusted with the very thought.

“A shame, though,” Leres sighs, so dramatically forlorn as he muses,  “I was so looking forward to rending her head from her body, but I suppose her pathetic minions will do."

Unbeknownst to the trio of god and goddesses, but very much acknowledged by the silently observing Orator, a small void elf had hovered her way to the Orator’s chambers where the others were plotting. Clinging within the doorway to the Oratorium, cloaked in shadows, the elf’s gaze was transfixed upon the new life swaddled up in the Orator’s grasp.

There was no doubt she cared for the child, like one of her own vulpine children, noted by her whispering, “...I can w-watch her...,” the small voice peeped through the dark shadows of the room.

It was enough to bring Deith’s attention unto Varikh, of course, her long ears twitching with life.

Doubt clung to Deith's soul as she reviewed the shrouded woman, breathing deeply before exhaling out: "Orator... The child should not be experimented on," with this would Deith turn toward the Orator, "For one it is not worthy. Too innocent, unproven. We should raise it to be one of us-- Our own little demi-god."

Shadows would begin to form until the doctor stepped out of them. He stood beside his assistant. The doctor still adorned in his mask and his bladed and leather attire.  He had been out scouting about and seeking potential targets but he was called to this gathering. 

Upon listening to Deith he spoke once she was finished.

“Varikh would make for a good guardian of the child. No experimentation but the child will need nurturing care. A maternal touch.” He explained. “My assistant has experience taking care of children. “ one could wonder why the doctor would take interest in the child, but what Deith said, she made an excellent suggestion. “At least until she is of age to be trained.”

"Hmm. So we're running an orphanage then? We're going to provide for the girl? Feed her, clothe her? For no guarantee of return on our investment? At least if we experiment on her, we'll gain something. We could leave her whole enough to be trained as well.”

The demon hunter’s condescending nature brought a noisy scoff from Deith, her lips weighed by a prominent frown which only seemed to age her youthful visage.

“We do not prey upon children. If you'd like, I'll provide you with an adult body to dissect all you desire,” the kaldorei snapped at her kin, Goddess of Love turning to challenge the God of War.

“Not orphanage per say,” the Doctor theorizes, “Just imagine, she is raised here? Believing that this is family, the undying loyalty she’ll have. We will be able to indoctrinate her in our ways and methods, she could be in fact made into a weapon. There are many possibilities here.” He added.

The squabbling and verbal arguments of his children brought the Orator to stir with life, his bone mask lifting from the slumbering child to command toward the pantheon: “Silence!”

Instantly all five of the group befell into an intense silence, eyes all turning to the Orator. Some wide, some narrowed. Frustration and excitement swirled amongst them as they waited patiently.

“Your point all have merit. This is just a child and has no use to us now. Too innocent, too unproven...yet I see a grand opportunity here." He steps down and walks forward, passing through the throng, legitimately moving through Victor at one point, and coming to a stop before the door, "A child in the hands of a death cult? How many of the adventurous types would come for her? How many people would Gampre send to us to get her child? People whose blood we can harvest."

The Orator looks down at the babe and begins to play with her little hairs, "Besides. There is never just one generation. There must always be those who can take our places should we fall. What better than one we have molded all their life?"

"Could always burn it, “ the draenei seethes, her glared settled upon the babe, “And just be done with it.  And why so protective whore?” this query seemed directed at the kaldorei, “They only know suffering if we let them live..."

Deith’s glare matched Vivi’s in intensity, fixated on the draenei in question. But she said nothing.

"We should prey upon whomever we can. They're all lesser beings. It is our right." The hunter says quietly, his voice even and unwavering. He falls silent at the command though, his gaze moving to the Orator. 

"It will not be just one of us that teaches the child, Vivival. It will be all of us." The Orator utters out, holding the child up into the air, "Isn't it fascinating? Everything was at one point as helpless and small as this child. Even the Titans came from somewhere, the worlds, the stars, the demons..." He sighs and cants his head to the side, "A wonderful state of being. Complete ignorance, yet complete enlightenment..." 

Slowly Vivial and Deith’s glared lessened to a softer stare, both women turned to fixate on the Orator now as he holds the child close, and then turns back to the group, "We will keep her, as both a lure and as a ward. Dump the whore off at her whorehouse, let her wallow in despair like the rest of her lot."

"I will abide by any choice you make Orator.,” Vivial concedes, her tone lacking enthusiasm, “But I will ask if she is adept in magic, that I am her teacher.  Either here or where we send her.  Teach her what I wish I knew.

Slowly the Orator nodded, igniting hope within Vivial, "I will think on what to do. A schedule...no...a program." He looks to Varikh now, gaining the ren’dorei’s full attention, "You would be willing to take her in, yes?"

Varikh crept into the room as the Orator’s movements shifted the infant to and fro. Her leather padded feet barely making gentle thwaps against the stone floor, “I-I will take her in as one of my own and... and c-care for her,” she assured. “I w-will love her...” she whispered almost inaudibly.

Deith's hardened stare would settle upon Varikh, inspective... Curious, even, before her eyes move toward the Orator, "She'll make a good surrogate."

And then would Deith's glare move from Leres to Vivi, "And anyone who attempts to harm the child will be met with swift discipline. Can we agree to this?" 

The doctor nodded firmly. “Agreed.” He spoke. 

"Fine,” the hunter snarls,  “But... Just to clarify. What sort of... Harm are we talking about?" He rumbles quietly.

“Physical, mental, and emotional,” The Orator answers, “You have plenty of other things to wreak havoc upon, the child is not one of them.” He looks between the two demons, “I will compensate the two of you with pray of a high caliber, the type that will satisfy your cravings for violence in place of the child.”

"Any training will be fraught with danger.  She will come to harm if she fails to control magic or blade,” Vivi theorizes.

"When she's old enough to train and be disciplined, then that is a different story," Deith remarks.

"Well, that at least goes without saying. Before that point, however, she will remain unharmed, cared for, and treated like a god amongst their servants. We will be the calritous voices keeping her down to earth, but we will make her the strongest champion we will ever have..."

"As you say, Orator,” Vivial bows, her eyes narrowing, “What would have me burn in the meantime?  The whore does still have one side of her face unmarred."

"No more with the whore, it is a waste of your talents. No, I have another target for you,”  The Orator turns to the blood hanging in the ceiling of the Oratorium and gestures. The blood swirls and writhes, forming a circle. In the middle, the face of a goblin appears, "His name is Guyrix Wondergoggle. I want you to burn him, his headquarters, and the entirety of his company down. If any of you want to go, do so. This is personal between him and the Temple."

"Tell me where, and it will be ash."

"Stranglethorn Vale. Near where the Venture Company had their headquarters before it got destroyed. Let it all burn, and let the columns of flames reach the heavens."

Vi stood, grinning wide.  She burned to ash in a moment, gone.  Her mission would be brief.

The dying of the flames would bring the rest of the group to theorize and murmur amongst each other, each eyeing the child and then each other.

Varikh watched the child in the Orator’s arms, mindlessly approaching their leader. She desperately gazed at the innocence trapped in such an oblivious state. The threats made on her life, the plans for her rearing, all this made without the child’s knowledge.

Varikh thought back to her own children, the elven ones. Fixing their breakfast, tucking them in at night — it all seemed like a distant memory now but with this little one, she’d have a second chance.

The partially nude goddess would proceed to fold her arms beneath her bosom, casting a glance toward the Orator, "How shall we return her, the whore? Where even? In a box? Shall we give her a chance and send a message to her dearest friend that she is free?"

"I say just dump her like the trash she is." The Hunter pipes up again.

With a sigh Deith meanders to Leres's side, hissing toward the Hunter, "Do not be insufferable. We don't want her to die, otherwise, no one knows the baby is here. Something precious for everyone to come running for."

"Return her in a box-- No...return her in a coffin. At the doorstep of her burned establishment. Warn her friends, warn whoever. I want her first sight to be the ruin of everything that she cared about."

As Deith strode next to him, the Hunter extended a clawed finger, trailing it along her exposed skin absently. "I didn't say kill her, but a coffin? So much work for someone worth so little."

The Orator’s idea brought small smiles and a lighter mood around the group, each snorting or giggling in amusement.

“Devious, darling,” Deith purrs.

Taking the moment to turn to the assembled group, The Orator passed the babe off to Varikh in an absentminded way. The figure touched his mask and gestured around, "Then this is concluded. The child will remain ours, the whore dumped at her whorehouse. Whoever wants to do it, do it swiftly, I have missions for all of you once this is done."

Instantly the desperate void elf gathered and cuddled the babe to her chest, eyes widened with glee as the child naturally fell into her grasp. It was clear to Deith, then, that the woman had been a mother once before.

Deith's silvery eyes would brighten whilst her whimsical voice purrs, "I'll locate her father. Perhaps we'll--," the maiden smirks knowingly, "Make use of the evening beforehand."

With finality to his tone, the Demon Hunter huffed out, shaking his head. "Ah well, I suppose I'll hunt then, all this talk has got my blood boiling... If no one else cares to, I'll dump her when I return."

"Perhaps the Doctor..," Deith gestures toward Victor, "Could make the coffin?"

The doctor looked over to Deith and he had a small grin firm upon his lips. “ I may have one already prepped for the queen whore.. I assumed we would kill her.. out of eagerness I crafted one.” He rubbed the back of his head lightly.

"As you wish, Orator." Leres gave a rather overly dramatic bow, before his wings carried him out of the room with a burst of wind.

"Even if she does not lay dead, place her into the coffin. Let her panic within its contents,” the Orator nodded slowly, a smile heard in his voice.

Victor nodded. “As you wish.”

"When you have completed the task, leave immediately. Don't worry about her friends finding her. Come back here immediately, I have a task that will talk all of your medical knowledge and acquired skills as a doctor. A little...experiment, if you will."

The doctor bowed his head to the orator. “I am up for the challenge.” He said before dismissing himself to perform the task laid before him.

"Oh, Deith. I have a task as well, for you or your champion, once you are ready to hear it."

Pausing near the exit, for the maiden was preparing herself to leave, the promiscuous goddess turns to face the Orator whilst wearing her most enticing smirk, silver eyes batting flirtatiously, "Is that so, darling? Well.. Perhaps I'll visit your chambers later when we have more privacy to discuss it?" An impish smile would replace the enticing, her sense of humor as slutty as she looked. 

The Orator turned his mask to face her and simply nodded. As his face was swaddled in cloth and bone, it would be impossible to gauge his facial expression and general disposition at the moment, "I await your presence in my chambers then, my dear."

With a flick of her wrist, the maiden waves her farewell, slipping out of the room in a sway of her hips and toss of her hair.

All the while... Varikh cradled the babe tightly to her chest and carried her out of the chambers, making her way back to the doctor’s office. A small, faint hum in the tune of a lullaby could be heard echoing in the halls.

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