#tw: mention of animal harm

[tempest-toss]

SCP-998 "Genuine Rabbits!"

Item #: SCP-998

Object Class: Keter*

Special Containment Procedures: Instances of SCP-998 are to be kept in pens fitting a standard living room. Should rapid reproduction ensue, pens must be spread across the site to not allow more than nine instances to be within close proximity. Instances should be fed three times daily, with an altering meal of carrots and lettuce. Should one begin to look sickly, immediately reach out to [DATA EXPUNGED]

Description: SCP-998 are what appears to be ordinary Oryctolagus cuniculus domesticus, also known as the common bunny rabbit. Instances tend to encompass multiple species variations, but often appear as a cross between the Giant Rabbit and the American Fuzzy Lop Rabbit; the only outstanding difference is the extra long ears it sports. Physical characteristics such as length and weight remain the same.

SCP-998 was discovered on a rural farm after a report came in of the farmer's sudden passing. Agent Carlson tagged along with the locals to the scene, where they found the farmer with his throat torn open, the instances bounding along as if nothing was wrong. As Agent Carlson investigated, the townsfolk gathered the instances together, and were in turn brutalized by them. Agent Carlson successfully got into her car, followed by an instance and drove away. As she got far enough, the instance stopped attacking. Agent Carlson returned to find the instances had ceased their aggression. Agent Carlson was treated for injuries and the instances were sent to Site- ██

The instances of SCP-998 have a multitude of anomalous properties, listed below.

Abnormal Walking: While the instances can move like ordinary rabbits, SCP-998 prefers to roll onto its head and use its ears as legs. An x-ray showed that instances have a new bone structure in its ears to do this. Sleep Induction: Referred colloquially as "Reverse Parakeeting" by Lead Researcher Donna Sue, whenever an instance is placed on the head of any human or humanoid, they will forcibly fall asleep Regeneration: In a testing log, an instance fell and broke its leg. Moments passed and the instance's bones snapped back into place. Instance showed no pain during this endeavor. Hivemind: Once ten or more instances are placed within close proximity, a hivemind network is established. Instances will turn aggressive and begin seeking out humans to kill. During this tie frame they have a noticeably increased intelligence, methodically seeking out their prey. Should their number drop to nine or fewer under any circumstances they will return to a docile state. This can be done in a pacifistic manner. Increased Strength: In one breach it was shown that the instances could chew through metal and cables to force a door open. This has partially been replicated in docile testing with certain fruits and common items. High Velocity: While only occurring once, one instance flung itself into Researcher Amos with speeds of that of SCP-504, The Critical Tomatoes. Researcher Amos survived with over a third of his ribs fractured and one lung punctured, among other injuries. Self-Replication: Even if one instance is alone, it can reproduce itself, at a rate of instance every three months. It is theoretically possible for them to overpopulated, but their reproduction slows the more instances are in close proximity to them.

Should at any point SCP-998 breaches, contact [REDACTED]. If the situation is severe, emergency contact with O5-4 must be made after ensuring all personnel are safely off the grounds of the site.

[bloomingkyras]

Camilla Lindbergh Princess Of Swannie for @seyvia Fairytale Affair a BC Challenge (sims submission)

"A story of a Soul Healer.. Camilla Lindberg, Princess of Swannie."

Camilla was born with a specialties, that no one will be able to have which make her be able to "Heal Her Own Fiancé's Soul" to life but not into human but animals.

It's happen when Her Fiancé, Daniel Charls, Prince of Winona, Died in Military war in the year of unknown. The Soldier found his body in his campsite and by that time they know that he still alive cause he still breath and knowing "the news", Camilla world become messy, cause she just not lost her lover but their beloved horse too, a Military Horse, Dash, that was given by her on His 17th birthday.

Until she determine to use her Specialties to bring him back to life. But the King, Sir Carlos, forbid her to use it, cause It will have a negative impact, not just for them, but to the People of Swannie and Winona. Which will make all the Spellcaster lost their abilities, lost their magic and potion will not be be able to use. The only way was by using animal's heart. Camilla threatened her mother who was also a Queen of Swannie, if her father did not allow it, she would hang herself and use that power to get her fiancée back to life.

The King finally approve but His condition, was only using His power and Hers and If the 'time comes to take Dash Home" they have to release it, so she agree and they have to bring Her fiancée's heart and Dash's body somewhere unknown for "cultivation". Month pass by.. Dash finally a life but weak.. It's medicine was only Camilla. When ever Camilla have to do her "Service", Dash will become weak and make her have to bring him, anywhere she goes. Until the time for Dash to go HOME..Camilla refuse to letting him go, until she keep making it's coming back to life using her magic and it's give impact to herself which she almost blind.

Their "Guard" told her to stop. But Your Majesty, Sir Carlos, ignore. He said, what Camilla do was Love to her Fiancée. They said this is not LOVE but EGO. Love should not be treat like this, Love should be free not tied up. They should release Dash asap as possible, if not another war will come as the other world started to hear the rumor about this.

Ma'am Freeda, the Queen of Swannie, said the only way to make Your Highness, Camilla release Dash, was by making her out from Swannie or finding her new soulmate far from their own country.

Lucky for them, The Queen of Spellbyndell, had sent an invitation to all world and country, to participate in the fairy Queen of Spellbyndells challenges! Secretly, Sir Carlos ask his Assistance to reply the invitation and sent Camilla's entry to compete in the challenge and the reply letter from The Queen of Spellbyndell accidently hand on to Camilla who currently playing with Dash at its stable. And it's was the right time to convince her again to release Dash forever. And she will agree if Your Majesty, Sir Carlos help her to see Her fiancé for the last time.

Name: Camilla Lindbergh Princess Of Swannie she/her (20 YA) (spellcaster / soul healer *this occult form are only be seen in her own country)

Traits: I recently download more cas trait. but I only have her 3 traits that u mention and no romantic trait.

Aspiration: Appliance Wiz

she have some skill that already level 2 and 2 more skill have level 4.

I already set her like and dislike and also way of life from Lovestruck.

I'm sorry..I feel overwhelm and excited to dress her up, so she end up with a lot of cc. but feel free to change if needed. and that was the outfit that she and her people of Swannie wear. don't worry its not modern outfit but it call timeless outfit.

U can make some change on her to look more yours.

and that its. Fuh..that was a long journey and how Camilla the Soul healer, end up agree with her Dad, to compete in Fairytale Affair a BC Challenge. And I don't hope much. If Your highness, Camilla manage to go thru the next round which left 4 Princess, and I know it's not easy, it already make me happy. Thanks Seyvia, for this opportunity to take part in the BC and I'm already excited for what next from u. And also give me some tips regarding outfit too , this was the challenging part so far too. And have fun with my princess. :)

-PRIVATE DOWNLOAD-

[the-indie-owl]

Re-watched "Milo and Otis" for such a Long Time and You Know Something, I felt like the Whole Allegations of the "Animal Abuse" Rumors from Behind the Scenes always felt like that it came out of Nowhere that No One seems to bait the Actual Truth that was already Debunked from a Long Time Ago.

But that is that when you watch the End Credits of the Movie and then you scroll down just to find even more research on Wikipedia, you found out to realize that all of the Accusations turned out to be Nothing But False Evidence just to make your Childhood Film look "Bad".

[sukibenders]

The way people are becoming anti-children nowadays is really sad. And I'm not talking about people not wanting to have kids of their own, that's fine and something that shouldn't be shamed nor up to someone else to debate. No, I'm talking about the people who adamantly hate these little humans for simply existing, wanting to ban them from spaces due to them having emotional reactions that they are still learning to understand (you know, the kind of lessons that everyone had to learn and figure out at one point). It's gotten to the point where I've even seen these types of people genuinely support children being harmed and deny their hurt under the consensus of "Well then maybe they shouldn't be there," in your average public space. Like, imagine thinking hating on children, people who need assistance and guidance, is something to be proud of.

[tempest-toss]

!!! - Evil GOIs abound!

Dr. Cryogonal -- Dr. Cryogonal knew what he wanted to be in his future. He had a significant fascination with ice and snow as a child and made sure that he would do whatever he could to make that dream a reality. Many years later, he graduated with top marks and extensive knowledge of ice. An understanding furthered by his knowledge of the anomalous and his perpetual frost breath.

Then Seymour Snapdragon happened.

The Snapdragon Smugglers "recruited" him, and forced him to be part of their research team and capture unit, usually helping sedate the creatures that were to be sold. During his time as a member, he made what would soon be known as SCP 4462, "The Heat-Seeking Liquid Nitro" . Things didn't end up well, as Cryogonal was thinking of using his almost-sentient creation to freeze Seymour in his place. Instead, he was betrayed by a member he confided his plan to and was frozen alive. Unlike the later victims of 4462, Cryogonal was not frozen solid, but more so sent into a cold, comatose state.

Currently, Cryogonal is being kept at Site 230's medical bay as he's being revived. SCP 4462 has since been recontained after a successful raid.

~~~~

Synt@x-3RR0R -- Originally an orphan with a unique anomaly, Syn would one day dominate the digital world.

Abandoned for his ability to pull things out of the digital world and have them manifest in real life, Syn would wander the streets for most of his life. He would soon meet other orphans with similar powers and create a small group known as the "Neon Nightsticks" However, things began to change once a boy named Pixel Matrix and his little sister Dot joined.

Syn fell in love with Pixel, and Pixel reciprocated. Together, they lead the Nightsticks in their silly pranks and occasional theft. However, after an accidental murder, Syn began to realize how much power he had, and he loved it. It twisted him, and drove away Pixel, who took Dot and ran.

Nowadays he still runs the group, now a large international hacking and malware group. Syn searches for Pixel, now Ten, and tries to get him to rejoin the group. He's even modified his body with cybernetics to attempt to break through Ten's digital defenses and kidnap him.

~~~~

Ringleader Regina -- Evil takes many forms, and Regina is one of the most vile. The ringleader positon for the Troupe of Shadows flips in moral polarity for each new ringleader, and the prior one was so nice... so Regina had to be so evil.

She runs the troupe with an iron fist, and makes no exceptions. Using and abusing her powers she has kidnapped many, from elderly to children and forcibly anomalized them to either be main acts or mocked and gawked at as a sideshow attraction.

Her cruelty doens't stop at humans, as she anomalized a dog so its feet swap to a different animal if it makes vocal noise.

Her powers of luring and anomalization make her a very notable foe, and is one of the few to cross the Foundation and successfully get away with kidnapping agents and added them to their group.

She isn't all-powerful, as three sideshow attractions have been successfully contained at Site 230, and she has made enemies with Brunshire Academy for abducting students. Apprehension is bubbling in the group... perhaps a little push could change everything?

~~~

The Phalanges -- A first for the !!! meme/game, as The Phalanges isn't a person, but rather a group. Like the foundlings, The Phalanges are the name given to the children born into the Children of the Deep Woods. They maintain this name up until they celebrate they enter puberty, upon which they get a new name reflecting the role they're supposed to fill. If undecided, they can remain a phalange, although usually, they end up becoming Carpals or Tarsals.

The Phalanges are usually seen assisting whoever requests help. It's not uncommon to see a Phalange lass helping skin a fresh kill with the hunters or a Phalange lad helping configure bouquets for the next festival.

The Phalanges are specialized in the use of daggers, as seen in the Spring Harvest Festival post, where they used their small size to trick the anon to jump over them, allowing them to slash the anon's legs. Some of the more coordinated Phalanges are taught to use throwing knives, as seen when one of them successfully threw their blade into the anon's achilles tendon.

~~~~~

[blossomhcir]

Adelaide as Iphigenia (inspired by @dioica)

Deer Chased by Dogs -Jean Baptiste Oudry // Iphigenia (1977) // Die Your Daughter by Susannah Joffe // Cassa.ndra by Flor.ence and the Machine // The Last Day of Pompeii (Details)- Karl Brjullov // Deer in the Woods - Elizabeth Strong // Sacrifice of Iphigenia -Maulbertsch // A Willing Captive - Frederick Stuart Church // Ptole.maea by Et.hel Ca.in

[thxnks4themrms]

Littleeee rant about a news story I found about animal abuse under the cut

tw mentions of animal abuse, animal neglect, animal harm, and mentions of animal death

Okay so like idfk if yall have seen, but recently there’s been a story going around about a girl in her early 30s neglecting a cat of 10 years

So like basically the story ig is that she got her cat when she was 24 bc she was just desperate and lonely and then when she got to 30 and met her husband or something. Her cat took a disliking to the husband and the chick didn’t like that but it gets really bad after the lady gives birth. So the lady gives birth and whatever else and because of that postpartum, shit she’s like all upset with the cat and just overall finds the cat annoying and is putting her husband and her baby first. Overtime she really really gets annoyed with it and starts neglecting. She starts like going into detail about how she’d want to kick it (or kicked it I forgot), not feed it so it’d have to find anything to eat which resulted in it eating houseplants, and literally forget to put water in its water bowl so it had to drink out of the fucking toilet. She then went into detail about how she’d want the cat to just die and that’d she’d try to do things to lead it to its death

I might’ve skipped over some parts but I kinda just wanna rant about how like that’s a highkey really selfish thing to do. First of all, at her GROWN ASS AGE OF 34 she should know better than to do that. Animals are literally living organism just like humans with hearts and brains and pretty much the same muscles/intestines/organs as us (as far as ik) so they’re not some fucking doll. I feel like most animal abuse cases are because of people wanting a pet just because they feel like it but don’t consider long term things. You can’t just treat it like a toy because it literally is not and that’s a truth that sadly a lot of people don’t understand. I understand that the girl just gave birth and all and ik that’s tiring and shit and I don’t wanna be on her ass especially after carrying a whole ass person but dude there’s your husband who can take care of it as well. I don’t understand how you forget to feed and give your pet water when they need it just as much as you do. Tbh I don’t know how she even lives with the guilt of knowing she put her baby first over her older cat. Ik I say this a lot but one of my biggest fears is death - ig for me it’s like the pain that comes from it but if I really start to think of it Ik that once I’m dead I’m not gonna feel anything so ig it’s just the pain that comes before it. Death of my pets though is such a sensitive topic for me cause I just wanna keep them for as long as I can because ik that they’re not gonna be here forever and that I’m practically their entire lives. If you can’t take care of an animal, especially a cat, then how in gods fucking name do you think you’ll be able to take care of a fucking child. If you can’t take care of an animal you don’t leave it to die or lead it to its death, you take it to a fucking shelter. I’d rather it be adopted and taken care of with a different family for however longer it has left than to be found dead all because you got tired of it

Anyways chat sorry for ranting I just got really sick thinking about this and like I just find that subject to be really upsetting and gross and I just needed to yap about it somewhere

I lowkey forgot the name of the cat and other stuff so sorry that I’m referring to it as “it” 😭

Um also there’s like a ton of articles about it but I can’t find any that are free if you don’t have a subscription to the news company but you can check on TikTok cuz there’s like a ton of ss and the full story there so I’d totally read it

[tempest-toss]

Apologies. They do, but I'm used to creature attacks and illegal poaching in the DeepWoods.

Also thank you for reminding me, I need to shed mine tomorrow

--Four

I found an antler when I was out tracking deer this morning. No idea where the rest of the deer went.

- Kit @white-rabbits-captain

How troubling. Is there any evidence that might suggest what or who took the rest of the deer?

--Four

[alukardtheabysswalker]

Hey

Hey, listen to me

You've seen the Latinos Against Spooky Shit on TikTok guy?

He's really funny right?

I want you, no I NEED you to know that that's how it is in all of latinoamérica.

No, no, listen to me, LISTEN TO ME. I am being kind to you gringos for once, I want to inform you and this is important.

Because you might be wondering "hey aren't there haunted places or spooky shit in Latam? I've never heard of any paranormal investigator or cryptozoologist in there".

I need you to know that there's a reason for that, okay? I can't tell you if this is how it is in other places like Asia or Africa but it IS how it is in Latam.

If you try to do some of that "paranormal investigator" shit here you will get beaten, kidnapped and or straight up killed okay?

Because in Latam "paranormal" stuff it's inexorably tied up with fucked up people. People that get a kick out of murdering cats for rituals, that have no problem drugging you to assault you and won't hesitate to kill you if they feel like it, and they BELIEVE in all of that.

You don't have to, I don't, but even if you are a skeptic like me, if you're latine you KNOW to stay away, because wether there's a ghost there or not it doesn't matter, they WILL get you.

Criminals, and I hate classifying people like that and feeding to the "Justice System" and prison system like that so if I'm using that word is for a reason, people who will beat you or kill you if you botch a drug deal or rat them out to the cops, they believe in that stuff so they won't just mess you up they will do "spooky shit" to you.

"Haunted" places in Latam, wether you believe in that stuff or not, are the places where if you Fuck Around you WILL Find Out.

[angelbear-s]

OH BTW !! finally got to watch jordan peele’s ‘nope’ last night nd . 10/10 would recommend 🫶🫶

[the-smallest-star]

what do you think would happen if someone stole or hurt Snoot?

Snoot has been a lifeline for Gritt, if someone hurt them Gritt would be enraged. If someone took them, he'd be terrified and inconsolable.

He loves his little buddy very much.

[csaventing]

My mom mentions that my dad got robbed recently. She says, that’s not uncommon for Oakland. I haven’t talked to him in four years. And it just messed me up I guess, knowing he is out there having a life. Like, I guess the fear is if he has the power to move and get a new job, he has the power to find me.

In the summers when I was a kid, we’d go pick blackberries and process them into jam. He taught me how to shoot, how to skin a rabbit. You kill it, you eat it, rattle snake battered and fried.

It just weighs on me so hard that my dad fucked me. My brother hates the man. Genuinely wishes death on him and tells him that. But I hate to imagine my dad in pain. I hate to imagine him lonely or tired or old, even.

I love my dad cause he took me fishing. I can’t look straight at the assault, I end up pretending it didn’t happen. Or it did happen, but it was my fault. Or he was possessed or something. The truth wiggles away from me. He took me fishing. I love my dad, but I know he’s not safe to be around. I love my dad in the same way someone would love arsenic, or radiation.

Being near my father is a slow death. I love my dad.

Thank you so much for this place to vent. This blog is such a comfort.

Thank you also.

[vivispec]

Falon

Viera swallowed then stuck out her tongue, waiting for the flavor to leave her mouth. All the while he looked at the toy in his hand, tapping the other, full of berries, against his chest to a rhythm she couldn't hear. Whether he wore a smile or a frown she couldn't quite say, but he wasn't crying anymore. Maybe she hadn't needed Fe'nathe to make it better after all.

to get back into writing after Big Burnout, I'm going to try and write a few of the fluffuary prompts. these will generally be pretty short and rough, but I got a bit carried away with this one—i had too much fun actually writing the different members of the clan i've only just referenced before! here's viera, my lavellan, meeting her childhood bestie for the first time <3

Fluffuary Day 1: First Meeting Viera & Nuarehn words: 3.5k tags: dalish living, childhood friends, spunky girl & shy boy, reference to period typical animal harm/death in the context of hunting

Viera had always been an early riser. Even before the girl could walk she'd awoken with the first stirrings of the sun as if its light energized her, and today had been no different. As soon as the night's final sentries had passed their watch on and the camp began to buzz with the activities of the young summer morning—the cooks starting water to boil, the halla let from their pen to graze, the hunters gathering their tools and setting out—she'd slipped from the tent where the other da'len still slept, rubbing sleep from her eyes.

But whereas most mornings she'd use the busyness of her older lethallen to her advantage, slipping from the outskirts of camp to find adventure in the woods nearby, she didn't hide away when Fe'nathe came looking for her. Instead, she sought out the hearthkeeper herself, and not the other way around.

There was much to be done today, and only so much time to finish it before her life would change—her hopes were high for the better.

It was nearly midday now, with the sun through the hide stretched above them casting the blanket where they rested in a warm glow, and the buzz of the camp around them now a proper bustle. She laid on her belly, feet kicking intermittently as she pushed, then pulled, then pushed again the bone needle in her hand, over and over. She paused, tilting her head. Then, her face scrunched up.

"Fe'nathe?"

"Yes, child."

"What's wrong with it?"

Absorbed as she was in her own project, it took a moment for the warm, brown eyes of the woman who'd taken to caring for Viera to find the girl's work. "It looks good," she said. "I'm sure he'll love it."

"But it's all lumpy. And the stitch isn't straight."

"It will be soft when he hugs it, and the seam will hold," she countered, returning her attention back to her hands. "That's all that will matter, you'll see."

Viera grumbled. "It doesn't look like anything." She pulled the string tight, and watched the fabric pinch. It had taken forever to make, a whole week that she could've been running and playing. Instead, she'd succeeded only in making something vaguely shaped like a nug. It wasn't supposed to be a nug.

The everyday chatter of the clan at work shifted subtly, and Viera looked up just as Fe'nathe did. Some continued on with little more than a glance, but others had left their spaces entirely, headed all in the same direction. "It seems to be time already—Creators, but I've barely finished."

Viera's eyes widened and heart leapt, her chagrin all but forgotten. "He's here?"

"It would appear so." Fe'nathe sighed, and set her supplies down. "I didn't make enough clothes, did I? What's here will have to do. And I meant to check in with Ebrin, see if he'd finished—Careful, da'len!"

The hearthkeeper's grip was quick for her wrist as Viera whirled wildly to her feet, wresting the needle from the girl's fingers in a deft motion. She looked back at her, eyes pleading for her release.

"Hahren, please, I can't wait anymore! I have to go!"

She squinted past the child and to the Keeper's aravel, a sigh escaping through her nose. "I suppose it can't be helped. I should give thanks I was able to hold your attention this long," she said, slackening just enough for Viera to wiggle free. "Alright, fine, I'll finish up here. Just don't overwhelm the poor boy. He's a year your younger, and likely scared near out of his wits."

"I promise," she cast over her shoulder, feet already well on their way across the camp's innermost clearing before she caught sense, and turned on her heels. "Ma serannas," she added, an afterthought chased by a barely heard response as she turned once more, and made for the commotion.

Viera raced between their bodies until the largest aravel was in sight, its sails flattened to a canopy and the flap of its entry still swaying. Her lethallen made a path for her to the crowd's edge, a border she'd have easily breached had it not been for the Keeper, catching the girl with a firm look and a halting gesture. Deshanna led a little boy, barely as high as her hip, by the shoulder. She craned to see him, face half-buried in the bag he clutched tight to his chest and eyes studying dutifully the ground, as their Keeper addressed those of the clan who'd gathered.

"As many of you know already, today we welcome a new lethallin to our clan. He has taken the name Nuarehn, and will join Athimien in his studies as my Second," she said, brow pinching as she swept the crowd. Her other hand returned to grip the boy, and Viera tilted her head to try and make sense of him—all she could see was a pair of dark and glistening eyes, tucked behind a curtain of raven black. "I trust you all—as well as those notably not present—will welcome him as family, even more so than you did me. He has come a long way."

There was chatter, some warm, some restrained. Viera, however, could barely hold herself back any longer. Without the Keeper's binding gaze upon her she bounded forward, leaning to catch his eye.

"I'm Viera'vun. Come on, I know where all the best—" Deshanna cleared her throat, and Viera straightened. "Aneth ara, Nuarehn. Do you want to play with me?"

He didn't respond, looking instead to the Keeper for an answer. For a moment she lingered on the sparse gathering, a hard set to the hard elder's brow; then she glanced down, and it softened as she found him, just a little. "Go," she bid, "she whirls like wind, but she is my blood. She'll treat you well."

"I found a clearing in the woods not far with a bunch of stumps, we can jump from one to the other—"

"Only to the hearths, ma da'fenlin." Though her voice was a stone wall, the palm that came to rest at Viera's jawline was warm, and the rough thumb running across her cheek gentle. "He'll be wanting for rest, after the journey he's made. Your adventures will wait for the morrow…and for a hearthkeeper to take you."

She stifled the beginnings of a whine in her throat. "Alright, Maela. We'll go to the hearths." Her arm shot out, a splayed invitation that Nuarehn recoiled from at first, until he got a leg up on his nerves and brushed the tips of her fingers with his own. She reached forward, grabbing his hand in full to pull him behind her.

"Follow me, I'll show you where we make our food. It's on the way, and if we're lucky the hunters will be coming back, and we can see what they caught," she said, with little space between thoughts. "I'm going to be a hunter soon, I'm already practicing. And I bet Ashala will give us berries, too! She's one of the cooks, she saves them for when da'len follow the rules, or when they make her laugh. I make her laugh a lot, but she'll give you some because you're new."

He didn't say much, but Viera didn't mind. She could talk enough for the both of them. As it was, she only paused long enough to breathe, and to cast a final smile back at her grandmother before they were past the tables of the craftsmen, and out of the Keeper's sight. There, her smile dug further into her cheeks, and she leaned in close. "This way," she whispered, before tugging him to the left. He stumbled, but continued to follow her lead without complaint. "Just a little peek, and then we'll go the hearths like she said. We don't even have to jump if you don't want to, but there's this big pine tree, and the branches make a tunnel—"

His weight behind her grew heavy, enough to nearly slow her to a stop. "What's wrong?" she asked, turning back to find his nose buried even further into his satchel. "It'll only be a look, I promise, and it isn't even that far from camp."

But he wasn't pulling out and away. If anything, his grasp on her hand had grown tighter. Viera felt a shadow over her then, some presence leaning above them both, and as she turned back to face forward the boy tucked himself behind her. The clear path ahead had been replaced by three squirrels hanging from a hip belt and a wall of woven leather, just barely stopping before she ran into them.

She trailed up to find Lasafel watching her with brow raised, adjusting the haul of rabbits he'd slung over his shoulder. "That didn't take long," he sniffed, and lowered them to the table. Ashala came to greet him, pulling fiery hair back from her face, and he gestured with his chin down to the both of them as he handed off his catch for her to tie up. "What was it, an hour? Two, before she pulled him into trouble?"

Ashala guffawed at that. "Try one minute. The Keeper's barely gotten eyes off the two." She wiped her hands on her apron before pressing them against the table's surface, and peering around Viera to get a better look at the newcomer. "Nuarehn's the pups name. Oh, would you just look at him? Skin and bones, but I'll fix that," she tut. "Aneth ara, da'len. This one's been talking about you all week. Careful, or you'll never be rid of her!"

"He won't need to be rid of me!" she puffed up, "We'll be the best of friends, and hunting partners too. Just like Lasafel, and Darageal."

"He's to be the Second, child," Darageal's deep voice added as she rounded Lasafel, "there won't be much time for hunting." Viera felt the press of Nuarehn's forehead against the blade of her shoulder as another set of eyes fell upon him—piercing eyes she'd been afraid of too, once, before she knew how gentle the person behind them could be. Still, she stood up just a bit straighter, to hide him from sight. "Where are you going?"

"I was just going to show him the clearing outside camp—"

"And what did your maela tell you?" Ashala asked.

"We were going to go straight to the hearths after that!" She focused all of her pleading on Lasafel, knowing he'd turned a blind eye to her antics on more than one occasion. "It was just for a peek, I mean it. Please?"

He looked up to his partner as Ashala snickered, his face twisting as he waited for her to take the reins. Darageal sighed. "Viera'vun, take a look at Nuarehn. How do you think he's feeling right now?"

Her eyes cast to her feet, before turning back towards him. She couldn't see so much as an inch of his face now, only the crown of his shiny black head. "He's scared," she muttered, feeling a twinge of guilt pierce through her chest.

"Exactly." The hunter unslung her own day's work, handing it off to Ashala as well. "Let's go, my mother will be wondering where you are. I'll take you to her."

Viera backed away, her body still a shield between them and Nuarehn. "No, it's okay. I'll show him the way," she assured, though the glances they exchanged remained skeptical. "He doesn't like so many strangers, I think. I promise this time, we'll go right there."

Darageal hesitated, before Lasafel shook his head. "Oh, come on now," he said, "it's a straight shot, you can see the fires from here. Just let them go, and scoop them back up later if she wanders off again."

"The girl's learned her lesson besides, I don't think I've ever seen the troublemaker so sheepish," Ashala bolstered, before digging a hand in the pocket of her apron. "Here, girl. I put something together for you two. If you can get him back here later, I'll have siumyhl for the both of you. Run along, now!"

Viera caught the pouch she tossed her way as it arced through the air, its weight dense and soft. "Ma serannas, Ashala!" Viera beamed, turning and pushing Nuarehn a few steps before taking his hand once again, and heading for the hearths in earnest this time.

"You'll be the one doing the 'scooping up'," Darageal muttered as they left, her voice growing softer with the distance until it was nearly gone, "and you'll be the one to tell my mother."

"Or, maybe, we go back out and follow those deer tracks, so it isn't our problem to deal with in the first place…"

Lasafel's response faded away into a murmur as Viera guided Nuarehn slower this time, walking at his side and not before him. Far off she heard arrows thunk into wooden targets, and one of the craftsmen nearby began again the hurried shk of scraping hide.

"You don't have to be scared of them. I know Ashala's loud and Darageal looks scary, but they're all really nice," she said, pulling the pouch they'd been given open wide, and offering him a piece. Nuarehn gently took it, staring at the deep red gifts bouncing in his palm. "See? She gave us dried berries to eat! Lasafel's amazing, too. I'm going to be just like him, someday."

He didn't bring the fruit to his mouth, clasping them instead in a fist hugged tight to the satchel he still hid behind. Still, his eyes roved the camp a bit more freely, now that it was just the two of them. She hoped that meant he liked her, maybe a little bit.

"I'm sorry that I made you scared, I didn't mean to. I just really, really wanted to show you something cool, so you'd want to play with me," she confessed. "I want to be your friend and go on adventures with you, but we don't have to. We can do different things together." Saying even only so much drew a weighty disappointment to try and drag her down, but she wouldn't let it ruin the only chance she had. "There aren't many other kids our age. Everyone's older, and too busy training now. Except Iloniyn, but he's mean and only plays with his brother. Even Ashala's son, Isedhul, is too busy cooking to play anymore."

She stopped as they came to the center of the camp, a clearing ringed by aravels and tents with a fire blazing at its heart. Fe'nathe was nowhere to be found—searching for the two of them, no doubt—but she'd left something important behind. Viera let go of Nuarehn's hand and bent down, pulling the bundle of cloth into her arms, unable to meet his eyes.

"Fe'nathe—she's a hearthkeeper, and she'll look after you like she looks after me—she helped me make this for you. Well, the present inside, the outside she made by herself. Here." She pushed it towards him a moment, before eyeing the bag still clasped in both of his hands and pulling it back. "Err, I guess I'll leave it, until you're ready to open it. Or I could open it for you, if you don't mind that."

His eyes flicked from her hands, and then back to her. After a moment he nodded, and Viera blinked hard. She'd been starting to wonder if her maela had been wrong about him knowing Common, with how little he'd reacted thus far. "Oh! I can open it? Okay, hold on, I'll just—"

Fe'nathe's gift, a beautiful purple wrap, fell away to the blanket. In its place Viera held a patchwork doll, made from what scraps she'd been able to get her hands on. "See? It's a baby halla, that's why it doesn't have horns," she said. "Did mamaela tell you she's from a different clan, too? She was lonely when she came. I thought you might be lonely, too."

It had coaxed him almost entirely out from his hiding spot now, lifting his free hand to push aside his bangs. His face was soft and round, his features wide, and he had beautiful eyes now that she could see them. Rich, like cedar. He reached for it, turning the toy over in one hand.

"Melydha—she takes care of the halla—even gave me a bit of the matriarch's horn to put in the middle, from their last shed. And it's halla wool inside too, so it'll be like you're hugging the halla, and—are you crying?"

His face was still soft, not all hard and scrunched like hers felt when she cried, yet down his cheek a trail glistened all the same. Viera lifted her hands, not sure what exactly there was for her to do. He'd faced down a multitude of strangers, nearly been dragged by her from the camp, and yet the gift she'd made to bring her new friend comfort was the very thing that had broken him into tears? It didn't make any sense.

From between the tents, she could hear Fe'nathe call her name. "Oh no, I'm sorry, I—" He blinked, then shook his head at her apology. "Wait right here, I'll go get Fe'nathe. She always knows how to make it better, she'll take care of you, alright?" Over and over he just kept shaking his head, and so she turned away. "I'll be right back, I'll—"

"Viera'vun," came a little, muffled voice, and then a sniffle, "ma serannas."

She whirled back towards him, mouth agape. It hadn't occurred to her that he could speak, too. By the time she'd turned back to look at him his face was buried once more, but the satchel he'd clasped so tightly had since dropped, hanging instead at his side. In its place was the halla that she'd made, his eyes peeking out from over its head as he hugged it tight. He sniffed, but he didn't look away.

"You like it?"

"Yes."

"It's really soft, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"What happened to the berries I handed you? Are they still in your hand?"

"No. I ate them."

"They're really sour, aren't they? They make my face pinch."

"Me too."

"Let's eat the rest. I'll show you my best faces, come here," Viera said, plopping down on the blanket with the pouch in her hands. He joined her after only a moment, grabbing a few berries and wrinkling his nose as he chewed on them. "And we can go back and get siumyhl later, too. Ashala makes it better than anybody."

"My clan…" He squeezed tighter and she was afraid he might start crying again, but he didn't. "My old clan makes it with honey and nuts."

"Our clan does that! I like mine with cream, too, and fruit, but not tart fruit like the berries. I like it with pears best." She grabbed a handful from the pouch. "Here, watch this," she said before shoving them all in her mouth. Her eyes watered, but she could've sworn she heard him giggle as her face contorted.

"I like pears," he hummed softly, "and strawberries."

Viera swallowed then stuck out her tongue, waiting for the flavor to leave her mouth. All the while he looked at the toy in his hand, tapping the other, full of berries, against his chest to a rhythm she couldn't hear. Whether he wore a smile or a frown she couldn't quite say, but he wasn't crying anymore. Maybe she hadn't needed Fe'nathe to make it better after all.

"Viera'vun?"

"You can call me Viera."

"Alright. Viera?"

"Yes, Nuarehn?"

"Do you want to be friends?"

Her laugh startled him. "I told you already, I really do!" She held out her pointer finger towards him, hooking it around his when he lifted his own and giving it a little shake. "We can be best friends, and do everything together. There are so many cool places I can show you, I even know how to get to the river on my own."

He wiggled where he sat. "Can you take me to get siumyhl from Ashala first?"

Before he'd so much as finished speaking Viera had bounced to her feet, bending low to tug him to his, too. "Of course. Ashala first, and then the clearing, and then the river—" she slowed to a stop when his eyes danced away, and his head began to bow again, "…or, maybe we do that tomorrow, and we just go to Ashala so Fe'nathe doesn't scold us."

"Alright," he said, and followed her lead.

She didn't even want to go exploring after, the sweets and halla milk made her want a nap instead, and by the time they both woke back up Fe'nathe had gathered a group by the fire to celebrate, and brought out the instruments to play. They danced instead, and ate good food, and were warm by the fire. And she heard Nuarehn laugh, and thought that it was the best laugh she'd ever heard, even better than Ashala's big, loud one.

It was hard waiting sometimes, especially when she was really, very excited, but she never regretted it when it was Rehn. He always came around eventually. The clearing, the river, the world would still be there when he was ready.

And adventures were always twice as fun, with her falon close behind.

[caffeinatedsquirrl]

Pompous jackass waggles his finger at everyone for what he perceives as "moral failings" while completely ignoring his own- more at 11

Dear god, I thought shitty modern art would stop at "banana taped to a wall" but now it's escalated to "keep three piglets caged in an art gallery and make them slowly starve to death in front of audiences".

they've been doing that sort of thing for a while, there was one maybe ten years ago where someone displayed a bunch of individual goldfish in powered blenders that the audience could choose to turn on or not

the thing about this sort of stuff though is that the audience response and the audience response TO the audience response is also part of the art, so "me beating your ass in an art gallery for liquifying a fish in front of me" is now a commentary on the the place of individual choice in a larger society.

also someone broke in and stole those piglets, which is an even funnier response, because now this art piece is a commentary on general human decency and there's nothing the artist can do about it