#Nomadic eagle

[ra-horakhty-art]

Series of arts "Prayer" with Batu, who's confessing to the Sky.

Melancholy

Goal

Rage

Prayer

Repentance

Hope

Condescension

Delight

Keepers

[sheltiechicago]

“Mongolian nomadic herder from the series Mongolia – Migration of the eagle hunters”

by Joe Buergi (Switzerland)

AAP Magazine Awards

[sosanniv]

Nirgidma - Mongolian Princess, celebrity, huntress, horsewoman.

A glimpse at times past and eras long gone. A Mongol horsewoman-eagle huntress who became a celebrity in Europe in the 1920s was Princess Nirgidma (1907-1983). A highly educated member of the Torghut/Oirat/Kalmyk nomads who ranged from the Altai to the Tarim Basin, Nirgidma was photographed with her hunting eagle in 1932 in Urumqi (where the mummified eagle huntress now resides.“We Mongols are…

[reneeofthestars]

Inktober 2024 Day 10: Nomadic

A Berkutchi, an eagle hunter of the Kazakh people. Photo ref by Ira Block Photography

[buried-in-stardust]

In Akqi County, Xinjiang.

The Kyrgyz people mainly live in Kyrgyzstan, Uzbekistan, and China, and are one of the official ethnic groups of China. Within China, they are mostly distributed in the southwest of Xinjiang. The practice of eagle falconry among the Kyrgyz can be traced back to 4000 years ago, and is now considered a national-level intangible cultural heritage in China.

The eagles (or sometimes northern goshawk/other birds of prey), are captured from the wild, tamed, then released back into the wild after five years. With the help of the eagles, hunters on horseback are able to hunt pheasant, rabbits, and foxes more easily.

Because of their nomadic lifestyle, eagle falconry played an important role in the past, but in recent years, increasing settlement of the Kyrgyz, environmental destruction, and other factors has meant eagle falconry has become more of a pastime. However, Akqi County is invested in keeping the tradition alive and holds seasonal tourist events where they showcase their falconry as well as promote other cultural traditions through events and exhibitions.

[edited two videos together]

[uzumaki-rebellion]

The One That Got Away

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black Female OC

Warning(s): Angst, Explicit Sex, Sad Girl Romance, Break-Ups & Reconciliations

Summary: After globetrotting as a digital nomad for three years, Michaela Maxwell returns to her hometown and meets the man of her dreams in a soldier named Terry Richmond. The only problem is, dreams happen when one is asleep to the truth. In Michaela's case, she wakes up to the sad reality that Terry won't really be the happily-ever-after she desires if he cant let go of a past love.

Word Count: 9.5K

"Ladies and gentlemen, I'm gonna tell you 'bout

One of the many men, name is irrelevant, height is irrelevant

He was a one out of a ten, I wish that I knew it then

I'm still recovering

Truly, I'm vulnerable, I love a sentiment

Quickly I opened up, I learned my lesson then

Thought I was safe again, thought he was innocent

I was so wrong"

Raye – "Oscar Winning Tears"

He came back to his place later than she expected.

The Super Bowl had ended hours ago, and instead of hitching a ride back with his cousin, Terry had taken a Lyft. She waited for him in his apartment dressed in a sexy strawberry colored push-up bra and thong set.

Lounging on his bed, she listened to him use his key to get in and his cell rang. He answered, but it was difficult to make out exactly who called him. His voice sounded tired, and he ended the conversation with, "We can talk tomorrow."

He dragged into the bedroom, and his eyebrows rose.

"Surprise," Michaela said.

Her boyfriend of nearly a year stared at her and smiled. But the smile didn't reach all of his face. Especially his eyes. He recovered quickly though, and took off his Eagles football jersey, jeans, and the rest of his clothes. Climbing into the bed next to her, he admired her underwear and rubbed on her booty absentmindedly.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"The Eagle's lost."

"Aw, sorry babes."

"Maybe next year we'll get that ring."

His voice sounded sad, but not because of the football game. She stroked the perfect waves in his hair and kissed his luscious lips. He held her, and his affections turned to nibbling on her ear.

She didn't know it was the beginning of the end.

Michaela Maxwell spent three fruitful years traveling the globe as a digital nomad, creating content for three travel websites while also house-sitting in exotic locations such as Costa Rica, Mallorca, and Belize. By the time she returned to her hometown in Louisiana, she was ready to settle down in a familiar place for at least a year before she was ready to fly the coop again.

Her parents loved this of course, and her mother, a choir director, even got her back to church singing. She found a tiny studio apartment that would allow her to coast financially until she was ready for more travel.

Standing in line at a Starbucks, she fingered the silver compass necklace her father gave her when she first left the country after graduating from college. On the back of the necklace, he had a Henry Miller quote inscribed for her, "One's destination is never a place, but a new way of seeing things."

She ordered a slice of lemon pound cake and a matcha green-tea latte, and when she tapped her phone against the scanner to pay, the app didn't work. Trying again and failing, her jaw tightened. She had no cash or cards because she hadn't taken a purse with her when she went out to jog that morning. Now she was holding up the line.

A large hand reached forward, holding a debit card toward the cashier.

"I got it," a deep tone said.

Michaela glanced at the face attached to the hand and let out a breath.

The sexiest-looking man she had ever seen in the states for a long time stared back at her with a grin. He wore military fatigues and had the lightest eyes whose color she couldn't discern in the light. They could've been green, or gray…maybe even blue if she squinted.

"I left my house without my purse," she said.

It was obvious from her skin-tight mint-blue jogging outfit and smartphone in hand that she had nothing else to pay with.

"If you hang here for a minute, I can get you the money."

"Don't worry about it. Pay for someone else next time," he said.

"Thanks a lot."

Michaela moved down to the waiting area for her items and watched the stranger order strong coffee and a danish.

That's how she met Terry Richmond.

On a clear spring morning, with her long hair freshly cornrowed in six braids down her back and decorated with six huge silver hoops, she left Starbucks with a smile on her face, thrilled there were some good-looking men in town.

It was only six degrees of separation, meeting him again at a barbecue. Her close friend Sandra dated a guy named Mike, who was Terry's cousin.

"Matcha green-tea latte," he said, showing her pearly whites near a food table where guests piled on fried fish and pork ribs.

They only spoke to each other the entire time and exchanged numbers when the sun went down. For the first month, it felt like a whirlwind of dates getting to know each other.

As a marine stationed nearby, he trained soldiers in specialized martial arts and other combat techniques. It afforded him the ability to stay close to his family. Their dates consisted of nice dinners, movies that she wanted to see, and long romantic drives in the country. He was smart, attentive, and a skilled conversationalist. Fascinated with her travels, he spent hours listening to her talk about rainforests in Central America, parasailing in the Caribbean, and nightlife in Spain.

In their second month of dating, he found a new luxury apartment to move into, and Michaela helped him pick out furniture and decorated it with an international flourish. Their friend groups began to overlap, and that's when Michaela suspected him of getting more serious about their relationship. His male buddies adored her, often insisting that she join them on their male outings to bars to watch sports, and to go fishing on a boat one of them owned.

There came a time when she spent more hours in the day at Terry's place than her own studio apartment. He dropped hints of being open to moving in together. Even gave her shelf space in his bathroom cabinet. The apartment had two bedrooms, and he offered the unused one as her temporary office to work on her new venture as a house sitting expert. It was his way of keeping her close to him without rushing her.

His place had a pool, state-of-the-art gym, and a nature walk trail perfect for early morning jogs. Michaela only wanted to date and have fun with Terry. Nothing too serious. She had more traveling to do and different parts of the world to see still. The pressure of a serious relationship was too heavy to pick up at that point in her life.

By then, they started sleeping together regularly, at least three times a week.

The first time they made love, a company had just delivered Terry's brand-new bed, and she had bought him designer sheets as a housewarming gift. They were oyster-blue with an outrageous thread-count that made them buttery soft. She helped him make the king-size bed up with a new blanket and goose-down pillows. They both jumped on the bed and marveled at how comfortable it was. That's when he turned to look at her. Her hair cascaded across her arm and he stroked it like it was expensive silk.

"You are so beautiful, Michaela. What would I do without you in my life?"

Her heart did a happy dance in her chest, and he leaned over and kissed her lips. He undressed her with his eyes first, and her body went limp from the searing gaze of lust that drenched her skin with desire. Terry dragged his index finger up her arm and she would've sworn on a bible that her flesh burst into flames the way he sparked her nerve endings. To have him look at her that way again for the first time!

They'd fooled around before.

Long, slow kisses for hours. Heavy petting. Jerking him off in his two-year-old Honda Civic. Going all the way was inevitable after their first month of sexual touching. They came close once at her place while watching a basketball game. She sat next to him on her couch in a pair of stretchy shorts and he fingered her slowly during commercial breaks, edging her until she nearly peed on herself. Her swollen labia melted under his fingertips and by the time he inserted his digits, moving them slowly in and out, she had tears in her eyes. She turned into a soggy noodle pressed into him. His fingers rubbed on her clit in gentle circles, bringing her orgasm to a raging explosion that had her entire frame throbbing in release. She scooted out of her shorts and panties, only to be disappointed that he didn't have condoms on him. Mentally kicking herself for not re-upping her personal stock after her Gulliver's Travels gallivanting the world, Michaela had to settle for him eating her pussy on the couch, her legs casually thrown over his shoulders and those seductive green eyes daring her to cum in his mouth and all over his lips. She rolled over and tooted her ass out, and Terry licked everything from behind, glossing his full lips until she came again, screaming into the couch cushion.

Their first time was magical in his bed.

"Why are you so wet?" he whispered in her ear.

He lowered his face to her breasts and sucked each nipple until they became perfect pebbles for his tongue to titillate further. His pretty caramel skin looked like a creamy topping against her cherry-brown color.

Returning home had taken an adjustment she hadn't expected, and having Terry in her life smoothed the tensions of small-time life. She'd outgrown her place of birth. He allowed her to tolerate it. Living outside of America showed her its obvious deficits, and Terry reminded her of the good things it still had available…like family.

Michaela grew closer to her parents, especially her father, and re-connecting with childhood friends grounded her to familial life. Singing solo gospel songs in church also brought her back to a spiritual side she'd neglected since leaving home. She started thinking about her future away from traveling, and Terry gave her other fleeting thoughts, too. Like what having companionship with one partner would be like over a length of time in one place. Michaela wasn't itching to settle down, but life handed her the man of her dreams, and it was hard to view Terry as anything less than the best boyfriend she'd ever had.

He still had four years to go before he could leave his military contract, and Michaela imagined taking him to all the places she shared with him through stories and pictures. The hard part of waiting was watching the growth of her business. She wanted to put together two conferences, one in Costa Rica and the other in Spain. That meant time away from Terry to plan and execute. She started getting calls from a travel collective in the U.K. that asked her to be a keynote speaker at a digital nomad event at the end of the year. More time away from Terry.

His kisses strayed down her neck, and she sighed.

"So wet…" he murmured, licking the hollow of her belly button and trailing down between her thighs.

He catered to her clit like it was a queen on her little throne. For what seemed like a teasingly long time, Terry ate her out until her legs shook and she whimpered, "I want more."

She rubbed on his hair, and he left her side to dig his hand inside his nightstand. The gold foil condom ripped easily. He rolled the prophylactic down his girth, pinching the top. She widened her thighs, and he nestled against them, his tip resting at her slick entrance. He kissed her while pushing inside, and they locked eyes. The intensity of their gazes brought forth laughter from both of them, and as he moved in and out, they laughed again at the joy of finally connecting through intercourse.

His dick stretched her out until her eyes wanted to cross. She arched her back to feel the muscles in his chest pressed against her breasts. Her nipples brushed against him, and he moaned at their softness. He lifted her right leg and sank in deeper. The slapping of their bodies created delightful sounds in the bedroom. Her pants and his deep groans in her ear took it to a new level of pleasure. There was no need to switch positions or try any tricks to impress each other. Their joining was enough, and her vaginal walls squeezed him unexpectedly, thrilling even her at the loss of control she experienced under him. She wrapped her legs around his hips, wanting him closer, yearning to keep him next to her like that for hours and hours.

"Shit," he groaned.

His hips pistoned, and the bed thumped under her. The headboard hadn't started smacking the wall yet, but it was close.

"Michaela…fuck…baby…"

He pushed her thighs back, his eyes glued to the sight of his dick taking her down thrust by thrust.

Their foreheads touched. He jammed his fists on the bed, giving her the fucking she deserved. She'd had lovers in every place she stayed overseas, but coming home to a southern man that shared the same culture was exquisite. Caressing his biceps, Michaela submitted to the synergy they created.

"You're beautiful. Look at you Michaela…making me feel so good."

If he talked her all the way through her orgasm, she wasn't aware of it. All she could concentrate on was his Siren eyes boring into her and the fullness of his dick taking her to greater heights physically. Her lips puckered and then she let out a cry as her walls clenched in rapid throbs around him.

"Ohhhhhh!" she shouted.

That's all it took for him to join her. She felt him pulsing inside of her. His body seized up and a loud groan roared out of him. He slammed a hand on the headboard and cursed above her face before grunting and crashing down on her.

She giggled, and he laughed out loud, his deep voice resonating around her like a cape of tenderness in their intimate moment.

Michaela had hoped to experience that type of lovemaking again after the Super Bowl game.

The day of the game she had an online panel to attend for her business coaching Black women to house sit around the world. She missed the Super Bowl game at his friend's house, but promised Terry she'd be at his place afterward to have a little party of their own. He didn't have to go to work the next day, and they planned to brunch and shop for a camping tent.

She pulled out her fancy underwear, plucked and shaved hair from her legs and private area, and prepared to put some sugar on his dick. It was supposed to be an unforgettable night in her mind.

Once he climbed into bed with her, she sensed a change in him.

Terry went through the motions of lovemaking.

It felt good, and she came hard on his dick with his fingers gently touching her clit. However, the passion wasn't at its zenith, as if his mind were elsewhere and not with her.

He fucked her from behind with long strokes, and after he came, he tied off the condom and kissed her forehead. Leaving the bed soaked in sweat, he took a long shower and she tucked the sheets under her chin and tried to fathom what had brought him to a place of disconnect.

They went to brunch at their favorite restaurant, and he picked at his food. Once they bought the tent he wanted, chats of planning a camping trip went by the wayside as he complained of a headache and went to bed to sleep off his unease.

She left his apartment and visited a girlfriend to not waste the rest of the day. Her schedule and his job kept them busy for two days. Until Terry called her to come back to his place before the weekend.

"I need to talk to you about something," he said.

She sat down on his couch, and he paced in front of her. Folding her arms across her chest, she waited for him to speak. He finally sat down next to her.

"My ex was at the Super Bowl party last Sunday," he said.

"Your ex…Eve?"

Michaela tilted her head with her lips already in a defensive pout. He dated Eve two years previously and broke up with her for reasons he never explained. It wasn't her business, so Michaela didn't care. They were getting to know each other, and she'd spoken about her past lovers, too. No big deal.

His eyes were shinier than normal, and her stomach bunched up in a single knot, already knowing the ending before he even foretold it.

"Yeah…it's been a long time since I've seen her…and we talked and …"

He couldn't keep eye contact and flexed the fingers of his right hand nervously. It scared her.

"And? Did you sleep with her or something? Is that why you came home in a Lyft instead of being dropped off by Allen?"

"No. I wouldn't do anything like that. We talked…the entire night."

"All night where?"

"At Dex's."

"Until one in the morning?"

"We weren't alone. Mike was there…a bunch of people stayed to hang out after the game. She and I talked outside in the yard."

"Okay…talked about what?"

Her voice sounded sharp, like broken glass. His eyes kept darting away from looking at her face.

"How we were both doing now. I didn't have to say anything about this, Michaela. I'm telling you because I trust you…I can confide in you about anything on my mind. I've done the same for you. I want to talk about this because it's bothered me all week…seeing her again. All kinds of emotions came back up that I wasn't prepared to deal with. It was the same for her, too. It's been two years and seeing her hurt me…"

He started leaking tears from the corners of his eyes, and Michaela couldn't move or say anything. The man she'd been dating for eight and a half months shed tears for another woman that he left behind.

He wiped his face and sat back on the couch. His eyes still captured her with their intense color. She exhaled and the pain in her stomach grew. Her voice came out shaky and unsure.

"Seeing her hurt you? Why? People run into their exes occasionally. You dumped her, so you weren't happy."

He nodded. His lips parted, and he wiped his face again.

"I wasn't happy. But I cared for her. Leaving wasn't easy for me…I didn't try harder to fix things between us. We weren't getting along and I ended it. That's it. I didn't know I would react this way after seeing her again. I needed to tell you so you'd understand why I've been so distant the past few days."

"Okay. I can understand that."

He reached for her hand and squeezed it. Before she could entwine their fingers together, he pulled away and closed his eyes. Eve really had him shaken up.

Michaela stroked his hair, and he stared at the ceiling, relaxing into her touches. More tears ran down his face like silent assassins to her heart.

"She told me she still loves me…misses me."

"What did you say to her?"

"I didn't say anything…I was surprised that she said that."

He finally looked at her. The tears on his face spoke for him.

Michaela bit her bottom lip and fought back the welling of water behind her eyes.

"You still love her?"

"I don't know what I feel…I'm conflicted."

"Conflicted about what? Do you want her back?"

"I don't know what I want."

"Terry, we've been dating for damn near nine months. I'm your girlfriend!"

"And I'm your boyfriend telling you what's on my heart and mind. I talked to my ex, and it affected me. I didn't sleep with her and we had no physical contact, if that's what you're really worried about."

"Yeah? Well, she got to you emotionally, and that feels like the same thing to me right now."

"I came home and made love to you, Michaela. If I wanted to fuck Eve, I could've done that and not said anything if I had that type of dog energy in me."

"Thank you for small favors, asshole!"

Michaela jumped up and grabbed her purse.

Terry tugged on her jacket sleeve and pulled her back toward him.

"Where are you going? I'm sitting here being honest with you about my feelings."

"Basically telling me I was a placeholder this whole time."

"We're having fun and enjoying each other. That's what you wanted, and that's what I want. I thought I could tell you everything going on with me, but clearly that was a mistake."

"Am I lacking something, Terry? Is that why you're so discombobulated with a woman that didn't make you happy?"

"You're perfect."

"Am I?"

"Michaela…please."

"So what now? Do we keep seeing each other or…?"

He stood once he noticed her eyes spilling tears of frustration.

"Michaela, I didn't tell you this to hurt you. I'm confused by all of this inner turmoil. I shouldn't be feeling like this, but I am. Can't help it."

"I don't want to be confused with you."

Terry hugged her and it felt icky. Like he was giving her a consolation hug as the loser. Instead of coming back to her on time, he stayed behind to talk with a woman who didn't see a future with him two years ago.

"Were you thinking about her while you were fucking me last Sunday?"

"Michaela, stop."

She pushed away from him. They faced each other with teary eyes and trembling limbs.

"Where does this go with us? Am I supposed to be with you while you sort out your feelings? Have you spoken to her since then?"

"We talked last night. Briefly. Less than five minutes. She told me it was good seeing me and hoped we could be friends again."

"Are you going to see her again?"

The sight of him blurred in her wet eyes. Her tears fell faster, and her mind couldn't process how to move forward.

"I made a mistake telling you."

"Terry…I'm glad you told me. It's a reality check. But I'm not a third wheel."

She expected him to protest and hug her again. If he had done that, she could've coped and pivoted to another way of handling her emotions.

But he didn't do that.

He stood there silently, his glossy eyes staring into a future without her by his side. The truth was so fucking obvious. Seeing Eve brought on regret for him. He never wanted to leave her.

In that moment, Michaela knew the pain flowing through her was because she loved him. She never said it out loud to him. She'd never been one of those women who fell in love easily. It was a slow trek for her to establish trust and intimacy, and she'd reached that stage with him when it was too late. The sting of losing his full, undivided attention to unfinished relationship baggage hurt. She'd lost him the moment he shared his truth.

"Maybe it's best that we postpone the camping trip this weekend. I have a lot on my mind, and you're busy getting your business up and running," he said.

"So you see your ex, talk to her again, and now our trip is cancelled?"

"Postponed. Not cancelled."

"Why?"

"I told you…I have a lot on my mind, and work is stressing me."

"A trip away is the best thing for stress. Tell me the truth, Terry. You want to think about her without me all up in your face—"

"I'm simply asking for space to think by myself without having to go anywhere or do anything."

"Think about what?! Either you want to be with me or her. Simple!"

He winced at her tone. Those beautiful eyes narrowed with irritation at the sound.

Michaela crumbled on the inside, but she kept her poise on the outside.

"Fuck you," she said.

She pulled his house key off her key ring and tossed it on the couch.

She didn't speak to Terry, nor seem him, for a month.

All of her social media blocked any contact dealing with him. She dropped him like a hot potato and kept it moving. No sense waiting around for him to give her a sad break-up chat of 'It's me, not you'.

His friends reached out, wanting to check on her and wondering why she wasn't around anymore. Terry's best friend Dex even drove over to see her, and she joined him for a coffee chat at the neighborhood Starbuck's, where she first met Terry.

She pumped Dex for information about Eve.

"They were engaged two years ago, and he broke it off."

"Engaged? He never told me that."

"He was embarrassed about it. His family spent a lot of money on their engagement party. Booked them an entire Paris honeymoon in advance. When he ended the relationship, they lost a shitload of money that he paid back."

Dex sipped on a berry refresher drink, his handsome looks attracting attention from bystanders in the coffee shop.

"Why did he leave her?"

"He told me she was immature. Narcissistic. He saw some other things he didn't like after her bridal shower that gave him doubts about them lasting as man and wife. I told him to break it off waaayyyy before he asked her to marry him, but he said he was in love and hoped she'd change."

"I guess she finally changed if he needed to talk to her all night after your party."

"I don't think she's changed at all. In fact, I suspect she only came around because of you."

"Me?"

Dex glanced about and leaned forward in his seat.

"Do you look at his social media? It's just photos of you two and him cheesing like he's won an Oscar for having the coolest girlfriend. Shit, I thought he was going to ask you to be his wife the way he bragged about you to us."

Michaela fiddled with the straw in her iced raspberry tea.

"I don't believe that."

"Eve sure did, because she swooped in on my party as a plus one. She loved him back then, of course, but why show up out the blue now? She saw those happy pictures and all thirty-two of his teeth grinning and didn't like it."

"She can have him because I don't care anymore."

Dex smirked.

"Do you love him?"

She closed her eyes. The first prick of tears spilled out.

"Aw, Michaela…talk to him. Let him know how you feel. He probably thinks you aren't serious about him because you didn't stay and fight for your shit."

"I shouldn't have to fight for him if I was already his."

She wiped the corners of her eyes with a napkin.

"That's not what I meant," Dex said. "Terry likes direct feedback. If you never told him you loved him, he's thinking you just want to keep the relationship casual. Exclusive for sure…but y'know…chill with no pressure."

"He never told me he loved me."

"Perhaps he was going off your vibes. The last woman he said 'I love you' to broke his heart. I'm not trying to make excuses for him, but he's been gun-shy with women. You're the first one he's brought out in two years. That makes you special. I know he showed you how he felt without saying it. If you tell him out loud, he'll snap to attention."

"He should've done it first. I don't want to look like I'm crawling back begging…"

Dex's cell rang on the table. He answered.

"Hey, speak of the devil. What's up, man? I'm chillin'…actually I'm sitting here with Michaela chatting at Starbuck's."

"Bastard!" she hissed.

"Alright, man," Dex said.

He tapped his phone.

"He's down the street and coming over to see you. Now's your chance to tell him how you feel."

Michaela jumped from her seat and cursed him under her breath.

"Being with him should've been enough for him to know. It goes both ways," she said.

"Okay, so you both fucked up by being quiet about the love part."

"Bye Dex."

Michaela shuffled out of the door, fumbling with her purse and jacket. Outside, she rushed down the street, only to see Terry strolling her way. She did a one-eighty in her stride and stomped away in the opposite direction.

"Michaela!"

He called out to her and dashed down the sidewalk to catch up to her. Her building was another block over.

"Wait up…I just want to talk to you."

"I don't want to talk, Terry. You should've come home to me, but you still wanted her. Dex told me you were going to marry her—"

"I was—"

"I don't like mess. I don't like exes showing up to throw a wrench in my relationship with you. I don't like that you never told me you loved me—"

"Can we talk inside?"

Seeing him rattled her. His gorgeous face had lines on his forehead from the stress of their uncoupling. Those green eyes threatened to weaken her if she didn't stay strong. The hurting in her chest never went away.

"Are you still talking to Eve?"

"Not really."

"Not really? Either you're talking or you're not."

"We've spoken a few times since you left me."

"Then there's nothing for us to discuss. You made a choice."

"I haven't done anything other than try to figure out why you can't…why you can't…."

"What? Spit it out, for God's sake!"

"I never thought you were this selfish, Michaela. You pretend to be this sophisticated world traveler and you can't even give me space to sort out my shit. I was this close to marrying someone I deeply loved, and it messed me up for a long time to let that relationship go. I beat myself up, wondering why I didn't communicate my unhappiness or frustrations to her sooner, and I promised myself that the next woman I got involved with would never have that problem. But you closed yourself off from me. My honesty hurt you. I can't change that. Running from me isn't going to fix us."

"What was there to fix, Terry?! We were doing fine until she showed up. There's no us if you keep talking to that woman."

"Why are you so threatened by her?"

"If you can't see why, I can't help you."

She pushed past him and headed for her secure building. His footsteps trailed after her. She ran inside her lobby after punching in the code. The heavy glass door slammed in Terry's face.

"Michaela, I did love you…I'm sorry I never said it…I love you…please. Talk to me."

"Go talk to Eve!"

His voice faded as she climbed the stairs to her studio.

Michaela co-chaired a conference in Costa Rica and rekindled her love of travel. A year after leaving Terry, she stayed busy expanding her venture as a self-employed entrepreneur. She found a luxury villa to house-sit for three months back in Mallorca and would use that time as a vacation and a chance to plot her next move.

First, she had to go home to see her parents for a week.

Winters in Louisiana were harsh, and she couldn't wait to get back to the Mediterranean climate she loved.

Sitting in her parent's cluttered dining room, she ate jambalaya, fried chicken steak, and cabbage croquets. She caught up with cousins and siblings and soaked up as much of Louisiana as she could.

She also had an obligation to go to church.

"I need you to cover for Marcus on Friday," her mother said.

"Friday? What's going on Friday?"

"A memorial service for one of our deacons in the church. Deacon Tolliver."

"What song?"

Her mother, Iris, marked a line under a note in her music book on the stand in front of their church's pulpit. The entire Baptist choir of eighty singers took a break to catch their breath.

"'Praise Him in Advance'. Marcus has a sore throat, and I know you got it down front to back. Can you help me with it, baby?"

"Sure."

Michaela took her place at the soloist mic and went through the song twice. It was a regular part of her mother's repertoire, so it wasn't a big deal practicing. Her tone of voice was just as good as Marcus' singing it.

After she finished, she stepped back into the choir pews and played her part with all the altos.

Her mind wandered as her mother's arms waved and dipped, guiding the rich voices.

Word on the street, according to her bestie Sandra — who still dated Mike—Terry went back to Eve about four months after Michaela left town. After hearing that, she made Sandra promise not to tell her anything about that man. He clearly chose who he really wanted, and she'd been correct in feeling like a rebound. Those tears he shed gave the performance of his life, and she was smart not to fall for it.

It tore her up inside knowing Eve was getting good dick, passion, and excitement all wrapped up in a Terry package. No more light-skinned niggas for her. Every single one she ever dated was a problem, and if they were pretty? Forget about it. She should've smacked the shit out of him when she had the chance. The saddest part for her was cutting off all contact with Terry's buddies. She genuinely liked them all. The man had an amazing circle of friends.

Sandra texted her about going out to a movie, and she accepted, only to find out it was a set-up with a co-worker of hers. It pissed her off to be ambushed that way, but Michaela sat through the "Wicked" musical because the man was cute. It became a no-go when he knew all the songs and sang them at the top of his lungs. A fucking theater kid…with great pipes, though.

The day of the memorial, she packed her suitcases with freshly washed clothes to be prepped for an early morning flight to Atlanta. She had a few more friends to see before she left the country again.

Dressed in a stylish indigo dress and her best heels, Michaela fluffed out her hair. She opted to tie it up high to give herself a little oomph. She switched out her hoop earrings for diamond studs and smoothed a fresh tube of bronze lipstick across her lips.

Riding over in her parent's car to church, she received an urgent text message from Sandra.

Michaela threw her phone back inside her purse. She pulled it back out, curious to know how Terry looked after all. Sandra wouldn't have to know she was peeking.

No.

Fuck him still.

But…

She scrolled the old people's social media. Facebook. Hopping onto Mike's page, she checked out his recent photos and found a group one posted six months after she left. Her heart fluttered seeing Terry in a fishing trip photo. He wasn't smiling with teeth, but held a crooked grin. Next to him, with her name tagged, was Eve.

Michaela enlarged the photo.

"She's not even all that cute," she grumbled.

"You say something, baby?" Iris said from the front seat.

"Talking to myself, Momma."

Eve was bottom heavy in her shorts and wore too much make-up for a fishing trip in the raging sun. Her twist out hair looked nice. She was nearly the same skin-tone as Michaela with a wide, flat face that reminded her of bread dough ran over twice with a rolling pin.

She wondered what went wrong this time. That thought paused her. What difference did it make?

It must have meant something because she thought about Terry while walking into the church, which someone had decorated with bright blue and white flowers. This wasn't a funeral, but a celebration of life. The sanctuary pews were slowly filling up, and Michaela followed her mother and the rest of the choir through a side hallway. They weren't wearing choir robes because the family requested they all don Deacon Tolliver's favorite color. All shades of blue surrounded Michaela. They looked like a pretty winter bouquet.

Her purse vibrated. She ignored Sandra's new message and silenced her phone with a quick swipe of her finger and hung up her coat. Pastor Greene looked out upon the flock and began speaking words of comfort as the choir waited to begin their processional from the side wing.

Would it hurt to see him? It had been a little over a year since she had flounced away from him. He could see how fabulous she looked and hopefully he'd regret losing her this time.

Michaela strode in from her position on the line and sang an upbeat song with the choir to stir up the congregation with feelings of joy and not sadness. Deacon Tolliver's family walked in as a large group down the aisle to take their seats in the front.

Michaela nearly fell over.

Terry walked solemnly behind the elderly Tolliver relatives dressed in a dark blue suit and tie. Ushers led them to their reserved rows, and he sat down next to some older women. He looked at the memorial program in his hand and glanced up to take in the flower arrangements and the size of the choir.

Michaela ducked her head down, hoping he wouldn't notice her. He didn't. The sopranos partially hid her on the side. The sea of blue helped camouflage her, along with holding the program directly in front of her face.

The pastor read a short scripture and then asked for the congregation to bow their heads in prayer. Michaela thought she could coast through the first half of the memorial, but the closer it got toward the choir singing again after heartfelt speeches from Deacon Tolliver's close friends, her stomach twisted in discomfort. She read the memorial program for the ninety-six-year-old deacon and learned that Terry was a great-grand nephew.

Her mother rose from her seat and stationed herself in front. Terry stared at Iris, and his expression changed from sadness to awareness. Those captivating eyes searched over each face in the choir until they rested on Michaela's as she stepped forward to sing for his great-grand uncle.

She prayed her throat wouldn't close up. The organ player tapped out the keys and the drummer gave a rousing introduction to her vocals. Michaela focused on Deacon Tolliver's widow and the memories of her husband's good work in the church. She had a job to uplift the family, even if one of them was her ex boyfriend.

"I've had my share of ups and downs…times when there was no one around…God came and spoke these words to me…praise will confuse the enemy…"

Deacon Tolliver's widow shouted "Amen!" and the choir brought up the rear, repeating what she sang in a powerful, harmonious sound that brought people to their feet.

Michaela relaxed into her vocal performance, letting the lyrics build up on their own, not doing too much as she led the call and response with the choir, her runs clean and touching hearts in the audience. She used her fingers to point on certain words at the family that held meaning to Deacon Tolliver when he was alive.

"That's when I praise him with my hands…"

Michaela hummed at the end of the line and raised her hands up, her eyes cast toward the stain-glassed depiction of a Black Jesus with his flock of sheep. As a child, Deacon Tolliver told her that Jesus was a rock she could depend on whenever she felt lost. He told her the same thing four years ago before she left Louisiana. She could almost feel his hand on her shoulder like back then, reassuring her about the path she was on. Funny how she ended up falling in love with his great-grand nephew.

Her eyes flicked over to Terry. He stood clapping his hands double time with the choir as she went up a notch to celebrate a good man who supported her call to adventure, even when her parents were worried about it. Hands were up in the audience and she heard shouts as the spirit came down on several people.

She brought the sound down softly and sang to the congregation like she was preaching the word and not just singing. Stepping down from the stage, she approached Mrs. Tolliver's frail form and held her hand, keeping her voice soft.

"Praise him, when things are good…praise him…trouble on every side…and when I'm broke…I will praise him…"

Mrs. Tolliver squeezed her hand and said, "Yes, God…praise him."

Michaela went down the family line to give the message of comfort, and the palpable feeling of love enveloped her. Faced with Terry up close, and knowing this would be the last time she would ever see him, she smiled and gave him some joyful notes that volleyed back and forth with the choir. His lips trembled, and he held steadfast, listening to her sing life into him and his family. She made her way back to the stage and put the cordless mic back on its stand, taking final direction from her mother as the band went off, creating a musical frenzy getting everybody charged up with emotion.

Back at her seat, she breathed in deeply, thankful that she got through the song and seeing Terry at the same time without bursting into tears.

"Nah, nah, Sister Michaela, come back, come back," the pastor said. "One mo' 'gin! I don't think they heard you!"

The band struck up the music again. The choir led her this time for another stirring reprise. Her voice soared over the church and even her momma jumped up and down, shouting. The entire church double clapped as she did a run of "ohs" that ended with a crescendo from the choir. Michaela felt touched by a higher power then, and shook her fists, feeling the spirit move through her. The choir connected her to the only thing that mattered in that moment: to love and be loved in return among her community. She shook her head, rooted to the floor, and another choir member helped her find her seat.

Iris led them through some classic gospel songs and threw in a few newer ones. Michaela sang and snuck glances at Terry who did the same. He pulled back his lips and gave her a smile that reached his eyes, and she did the same back at him.

The memorial ended, and the congregation headed over to the church-owned building next door where the repast was to be held. The food was buffet-style, and Michaela made herself a plate and sat with some church friends. Terry sat with his family on the other side of the room and she relaxed to eat and drink punch.

Eventually she mingled, sharing stories of getting in trouble at vacation bible school and Deacon Tolliver setting her straight.

"Michaela."

It was unavoidable.

Michaela inhaled and turned to look at Terry. His suit was perfectly tailored to his physique. His soulful gaze took her breath away again, and it was like being at Starbuck's that first time, hearing the robust sound of his voice. Her cheeks rose, lifted by the smile she tried to pull off, but she couldn't do it. Regret washed over her like a heat flash and her face grew warm. She didn't fight for him like she should've. She didn't support him with his jumbled feelings. Running off to Costa Rica had been her answer because she didn't want to hear him say he didn't want her anymore. Fear of abandonment caused her to react in a way that didn't help them overcome an obstacle.

"Sorry for your loss," she sputtered.

"Thank you. I'm sorry for a lot of things, too," he said.

Her eyes watered, but the tears held in place. He sensed the battle within to hold it together and looked around to see who could hear them. She blinked several times to clear her eyes. He'd led her to the punchbowl. Handing her a cup of punch, he sighed and moved closer to her so their conversation wouldn't be overheard.

Her heart thumped rapidly, being next to him, and her hands sweated. She wiped them against the cup of punch.

"Can we go outside? It's kinda loud in here," he said.

"Sure."

She pulled on her coat and grabbed her small purse to follow him out a side door. He held out a key fob. Tapping it, a maroon SUV chirped, and he opened a back door for her to get out of the cold.

They sat in the far back seats of the seven passenger vehicle. He tapped the fob again, and the engine came on, blasting much needed heat in the interior. Tinted windows prevented anyone from seeing directly inside. She took off her coat after the temperature grew comfortable.

"You look great," he said.

"You too."

"You sang like an angel. Uncle Bo would've loved it."

"Oh, he's heard me sing before. I didn't even know you were related to the Tollivers."

"On my father's side."

His eyes never wavered. There was a softness behind them that matched the tone of his voice. God had really broken the mold when he made Terry.

He glanced down at his hand near hers.

"I wasn't careful with your heart, Michaela. I'll never forgive myself for that. I loved you…still love you. When you left town, I thought you did what you needed to do. I dealt with that pain, even when you refused to accept my calls or attempts to contact you."

"Why did you go back to her?"

"You left, and she…gave me what I thought was a second chance. I couldn't get you back. You were worried about being a rebound, and that's what Eve became to me. She didn't feel right at all…nothing about her was different. We went out a few times to test the waters. Tried to be friends instead. Dex told me I was stupid for doubting myself about her motives for coming back into my life. The moment she learned you left the country, she turned right back into her vindictive, jealous self. I let her fool me into thinking I'd made a mistake about getting away from her. She played me. I paid a heavy price for it by losing you. I'm sorry for not listening or taking your apprehensions about it seriously. You loved me and I didn't…I lost the plot of us, Michaela. That's all my fault for thinking I knew better."

"I was scared. I met someone truly special, and I held you away from me because I didn't know if you felt as deeply as I did. I've been burned in the past enough times to be cautious," she said.

"Where does this leave us now?"

"I'm going back to Spain in two days. I won't return to the states for a while."

He nodded and glanced away from her face.

"I guess there's nothing more to say. We missed our chance."

The defeat in his voice broke her inside.

"Terry, I loved everything about you—"

He smothered her lips with his.

His hands cradled her face. The reunion of his mouth against hers made her swoon. She parted his lips with her tongue and he took advantage of the opening and swept his tongue around hers. Their passion for each other never left. It pleased her that Eve turned out to be exactly as Dex predicted. That woman didn't want anyone to claim Terry after her, and only popped out to sow confusion in him, knowing how vulnerable he'd been to end their engagement. He figured out her charade and dumped her again, making her a two-time loser. She also relished that Terry got what he deserved on a purely petty level. That flat-faced ex showed him for all time that he never should've considered her as anything less than a dodged bullet. But at what cost?

Their kissing aroused her.

Her panties dampened, and Terry started moaning into her mouth. She ran a hand down his chest and brushed her fingers across the bulge in his pants. So stiff.

He cupped a breast and squeezed, then groped a nipple, pinching it through her dress and bralette. She came undone by looking deeply into his eyes. Love stared back at her. Regret, too.

She gave him love with her mouth, sliding her tongue against his with slow, succulent kissing. Rubbing on his dick through his pants had him panting her name. He lifted her dress, and she helped him pull down her pantyhose. She kicked off her heels, knowing she had to have him. He unfastened his belt and lowered his pants and boxer briefs.

She climbed on top of him as he held his erection up for her to slide down. Her pussy swallowed his dick easily, and they both sighed loudly when she reached the bottom with her ass resting on his balls. They kissed again and Michaela bounced on his dick, her slickness pleasing him.

She clung to his neck, pressing her cheek to his and pounded on that thickness, making a wet mess in his lap. He grunted and held onto her ass cheeks. Unprotected sex was something they never indulged in, but there was always an exception to that rule for a desire that overpowered them both. A final fuck was very necessary.

"Fuck me…fuck me…fuck me…raise up, raise up…now drop it back down hard on that dick…yes! Just like that, Michaela…fuck me, baby. Fuck that dick…fuck it…fuck me…shit…that's your dick…."

The throaty moans into her neck heightened her pleasure to the extreme. His voice sounded deeper than it ever did, and it serenaded her grinding into him fast and furious. Her clit rubbed against his shaft and electrified her walls, sending tiny spasms of pre-orgasmic release. She reached behind and squeezed his balls.

"You're trying to make me nut all in this pussy. Aren't you?" he choked out.

"Yes!"

He moaned, helpless to stop himself.

"I'm 'bout to give you the biggest nut…fuck, Michaela…why you do this to me now?"

He whimpered as she went stupid on his dick. All he could do was hold on to her plump ass cheeks and go along for the ride. They both had nothing to lose. Their foreheads touched, and desperate breathy pants sent warm air across their lips.

"Take this thick creamy nut, girl. I'm gonna fill you up… right now…oh shit! I'm cumming…I'm cumming…..!"

Terry's body bucked, and he held her so tight against him. She couldn't breathe. She felt the swelling of his dick and the quick pulses as he eagerly spurt a hot nut inside of her. His erratic panting and the pressure of him squeezing her tight compelled her to let go. Her eyes rolled back as her pussy clenched like it would never let his dick go.

"Terry…oh, God!" she cried out.

"Damn…Michaela…you fucked the shit out of me!"

They laughed.

Their voices bubbled up, a shared release like the old days together. Except this time, his warm cum flooded her pussy.

"We're going to look a mess going back inside," she grumbled.

"I don't care," he huffed into her hair.

She leaned back and his eyes held more desire for her. The feline quality in them brought shivers, and she had to look away from the intensity. He kissed her, and she gave in again, allowing their tongues to make a pact she knew they couldn't keep. Not anymore.

When her legs started cramping, she lifted off of his dick and lap, falling back into the seat. Cum pooled out of her, wetting her inner thighs.

She pulled up her underwear and pantyhose. Slipped on her heels. He fastened up his pants, and they looked at one another with longing. Outside of the SUV, he helped her put on her coat. She closed it up tight and cinched it with the belt.

They returned to the repast. She hoped God and the church couldn't smell the sex on her. Now and then, she glanced over at Terry and they burst out laughing, unable to hide the awkwardness of being together like that in a church parking lot. She became bashful whenever their eyes met, his thick lashes so seductive with his eyebrow arched, watching her move around the space.

When her parents said their goodbyes to the Tolliver family as the repast wound down, she and Terry bid farewell with silent eye contact. She rushed out behind her mother, feeling a hitch in her chest and a lump growing in her throat.

The summer sun in Mallorca did wonders for Michaela's rich skin color.

She wore long slinky dresses and drank chilled gazpacho by the pool in the small villa she tended for a British family who went to Australia for a long winter holiday.

Peace and tranquility spoiled her. Part of her house sitting duties were caring for two rowdy Ibizan hounds that snoozed at the foot of her pool lounge chair, the heat wearing them out into quiet submission.

Her cell vibrated next to her hip.

She swiped, and her eyes lit up behind her big shades.

Terry sent her a picture of himself wearing the gold compass necklace she bought for him in a pricey Mallorca jewelry shop. She had it engraved and mailed it to him in time for his birthday two weeks ago. He'd been on her mind a lot after leaving home. Wistful days passed by as she pondered her horizon. But he was always on the fringes.

He had the nerve to wear a sweater with no shirt while sitting on the floor with his back against the wall and sunlight making him look like a movie star.

Michaela let her index finger hover above the smartphone keyboard. She grappled with what to say. Touching her own compass necklace, she read the words her father put on it again.

"One's destination is never a place, but a new way of seeing things."

Under a Spanish sun, Michaela Maxwell decided to trust with an open heart. Her fingers flew across the keyboard.

Taglist:

@nahimjustfeeling-writes

@planetblaque

@kindofaintrovert

@thedondada05

@blackburnbook

@avoidthings

@slutsareteacherstoo

@nayaesworld

@notapradagurl7

@4pfsukuna

@yamst3rdamctrl

@sweettea-and-honeybutter

@comfortzonequeen

@theereina

@brattyfics

@prettyisasprettydoes1306

@megane96

@honeytoffee

@taurusqueen83

@mightbeher

@melaninpov

@carlakeks

@woahthatshitfat

@hrlzy

@theglamclosetsl

@liquorlaughslove

@teeresaresa

@cocoagadgetsworld

@mogul93

@helloncrocs

@dremmmm

@simplyzeeka

@pearlkitten33

@jas241

@leahnicole1219

@kaykay772

@juniperlovesstuff

@kingclementyne

@thickmadame

@onherereading

@daneiawrites

@hotgrlcece

@darqchilddaydreamz

@ariiijestertheklown

@blackerthings

@soufcakmistress

@jaythegreat

@venusincleo

@ovohanna24

@kirayuki22

@beas-mind

@supremechae

@solunaseira

@kalaahisthebestest-

@justlo7

@kanafunee

@contentfiend

@nun0ir

@livingfiction

@megamindsecretlair

@ranikyani

@thegreatlibraryofalex

@wabi-sabi1090

@soft-persephone

@insertcatchynamerighthere

@invisiblegiurl

@mitruscity

@gopaperless

@thabiddie23

@beenathembo

@aldrigmer444

@gg-trini

@youalreadyknowitsmesis

@teddybeerz

@dimepiece09

[serpentface]

Amarzi Kos nomad showing off his eagle.

---

'Kos' as an ethnonym groups a set of closely linguistically/culturally related peoples who make up most of the population of Kosov, one of three omas (a large territorial division with its own regional government) of the contemporary Burri Republic. 'Amarzi Kos' refers to a group of nomadic pastoralists who occupy southeastern edge of the Grajyi plateau steppe that effectively forms Bur's western border.

Kosov is the largest of the Burri omas, encompassing the easternmost edge of the Daginarya mountain range and a small portion of the high altitude Grajyi plateau. Kosov is landlocked and sparsely populated across much of its territory. The majority of its people and cities are clustered along the Hsuke river valley system, its tributaries, and the lush, rainy southern foothills (all of which are highly favorable for agriculture). At higher elevations, most people practice seasonal transhumance to and from mountain pastures, alongside terrace farming of hardier high altitude crops.

The Grajyi plateau is a different story. Its entire span falls into subtropical latitudes, but it is substantially cooler year-round than the lowlands, and experiences much less rainfall. The vast majority of the plateau is wholly unfavorable to agriculture (being mostly grassland with areas of cold desert), and subsistence depends almost entirely upon the herding and grazing of livestock for dairy, blood, wool, and dry dung fuel. Amarzi Kos pastoralists mostly rear horses and khait, and do not typically slaughter their livestock unless as an act of desperation. Almost all meat in their diet comes from hunted game, and most hunting is accomplished with falconry.

Falconry is of significant cultural import across much of the broader Burri sphere, largely as a leisure activity for nobility and the otherwise wealthy. To Amarzi Kos nomads, it is instead a matter of core subsistence, providing meat during harsh winters and furs for warm clothing and trade. The two raptor species most commonly used on the high steppe are the golden eagle (shown here) and the black falcon (similar to a gyrfalcon in size). The golden eagle is often used for its great size and strength to catch fairly large game such as jackals, the niive cat (a dogsized predator), migratory geese, and even (small) gazelles. The black falcon is used predominantly to hunt mid-sized birds, especially grouse and pheasants.

Men do the majority of the hunting during the winter while most women and young children attend to the livestock, cooking, and weaving. Women participating in falconry is culturally acceptable, though they will usually be given falcons as handling golden eagles is considered to be men's work. A boy's first successful eagle-hunt (which they will begin participating in as a teenager, using one of their father's birds) is a hallmark of coming of age and indicates that they are ready to trap their own bird.

The god Gen Yanna, a very minor deity of falconry in the broader Burri pantheon, has an expanded role in the religious practice of Amarzi Kos nomads (and some other groups on the plateau). Here he is re-contextualized as not just a falconry god, but the patron deity of Grajyi steppe and father of its people. Ethnic Amarzi Kos claim to directly descend from him, via a lowlands Kos woman he abducted as a bride long ago. He is the one who taught his descendants how to capture and train wild birds for falconry (and gets credits for teaching some other facets of high-steppe culture as well, such as an alcoholic fermented horsemilk drink, and the flying of dragon kites to ward off evil). He himself owns ten legendary birds, including a fearsome dragon he bound with a divine bridle and uses for hunting and as a flying mount (dragons in the Burri sphere are gigantic birds with 2-4 reptillian legs, feathered wings, and the head of a cockerel).

Across most of the greater Burri sphere, shrines to the gods have fixed locations within homes and town/city temples. This isn't practical for nomadic pastoralists, who instead build shrines along migratory/trade routes and visit as they pass by in their yearly journeys. These shrines are cairns (structured as a low outer stone fence surrounding an inner rock pile) upon which offerings to the shrine's assigned deity can be placed. The biggest shrines (built up from centuries of travelers adding stones) become de-facto focal points of religious practice and are referred to as sky temples.

The great sky temple to Gen Yanna is visited by most families on a yearly basis as they pass nearby, in order to pay respects to their divine ancestor and request his boon during the lean winter months. In addition to sprinkled offerings of milk, yogurt, and alcohol, a falconer will leave some of their bird's feathers at the shrine. This temple is surrounded by tall wooden stakes to which visitors tie their offerings, and the god's presence is felt in the sound of hundreds of feathers fluttering in the breeze.

[dangermousie]

(maybe impossible but hopefully fun?) Question for you if you're ever up for it!

What are your top 5 cdramas of all time? Bonus points for why.

I almost said top 3 but that felt too cruel lol

It's fun!

Here is my list, no order except Minglan is always n1.

The Story of Minglan (2018-2019)

My n1. cdrama is the amazing, too short at 73 eps, The Story of Minglan, a sort of Elizabeth Gaskell meets period China.

It follows three interconnected upper-class families, but more specifically, it is about Sheng Minglan, a concubine-born daughter of a minister and Gu Tingye, the oldest, legitimate, and hated by his family son of a Marquess. Their narratives run largely parallel for the first half of the story and such is the genius of this drama that I, the ultimate romance junkie, did not mind that.

Minglan is a rarity in dramaworld - she is fiercely smart, very collected and emotionally detached. Life in the troubled Sheng household taught her to survive and to hide her feelings and talents. Tingye is a big cdrama love. Abused and reviled by his household where he can do no right (the Marquess hated having to marry his merchant mother for money and has displaced that hate on her son), Tingye manages to keep his warm heart but acquires the ability to go his own way. Both of the protagonists are wonderful and smart and magnetic and rootable for separately, but when they get together, the sparks go off the charts and they become my n1 cdrama OTP of all time. A lot of the story is about family battles, women’s world dilemmas and relationship (of all sorts) interactions. There is also politics and battles, but the true charm of this drama are the mundane details of the world and the fully-fleshed out people who inhabit it. If you watch only one cdrama in your life, make it this one.   

Novoland Eagle Flag (2019)

There might be one or two cdramas I love more, but none that resonates more for me on a personal level. A grim epic with a sprawling cast and amazing sets (money was SPENT on this one), its strength is its theme of the meaning being not in victory but in the fight, of staying true to what you believe despite (or because) the horrors of the world. It's EVERYTHING.

The cast is huge, but it centers around three protagonists - Asule Pasuer, a nomadic crown prince sent as hostage to the civilized yet even more bloody world of the plains, Yu Ran - a full of life princess in exile of the winged people, and Ji Ye - an amazing fighter brought in the gutter. The three become closest friends and we follow them separately and together. There are multiple OTPs, epic battles, clever plots, but at its heart it's a character study. Asule is a pacifist berserker (it makes sense), Yu Ran insists on joy as her shield, and Ji Ye yearns for recognition and status, and the way the world fulfills or warps them is fascinating.

The Rebel Princess/Monarch Industry (2021)

Gorgeously filmed, impeccably acted, and solidly written (where censorship didn’t come for them), this is such an emotional and visual feast and Awu and Xiao Qi are the best OTP I’ve ever seen in dramas (at least for my specific preferences) and feel real.

If you want to see lavish sets populated by smart, fierce, ADULT characters, this one is for you. If you have a competency kink, this one is for you. If you like cinematic-looking epics, this one is for you. If you like a smart, fierce heroine who is also a believably a period aristocratic woman, this one is for you. If you like dysfunctional families and interesting supporting characters, this one is for you. If you like a hero who redefines calm, deadly, and smart yet feels like a real breathing human being, this one is for you. If you like arranged marriage turns to love, this one is for you. If you like amazing OTP which, once they decide to be all in, never waiver from each other, this one is for you. If you are into couples showing affection in a warm way rarely seen in a period cdrama, this one is for you. If you like hot, adult men and hot, adult women, this one is for you.

Fangs of Fortune (2024)

I have rarely seen a drama that speaks to me so personally, but it is also narratively perfect, emotionally devastating, with impeccable acting, complex characters and visuals that are beyond stunning. This is an emotional and visual feast, with such incredible characters, interesting explorations of fantasy and mortality and morality and what makes life worth living. It is also the most eye popping drama I've ever watched as well as throwing me back into what it's like to be immersed into an amazing fantasy book as a kid and the characters and the relationships and the themes sing to me. A miracle.

Joy of Life (2019, 2024)

This is a masterpiece. The first season was perfect and somehow the second is even more perfect. It’s smart, it’s funny, it’s heartbreaking, the cast is still impeccable and Zhang Ruoyun gives a completely jawdropping performance as the focus of all the madness Fan Xian. It really is the rare drama that lives up to the hype.

The Myth (2010)

For the longest time, this was my favorite cdrama, to be replaced only by Minglan. It starts out funny and ends up tearing out your heart. This is the only time in my drama watching experience I cried so hard I threw up. The story is about two accidental time-travelers - a photographer and a cook - who end up in Qin Dynasty China. And from then on it’s about how that cruel, horrifying world takes two perfectly normal men and by wracking their very souls turns one into a hero and the other into a monster. To me, this is Hu Ge’s best performance and as you see his protagonist desperately try to hold on to his humanity and his love in a world that is doing its best to destroy it, I dare you not to cry like a baby. His character is my ultimate cdrama crush.

The Rise of Phoenixes (2018)

Like dramas to destroy you? Come right in. A story about a disfavored prince and a lost daughter of a previous dynasty, this is smart, gorgeous, incredibly acted and is going to wreck you. The schemes and the intensity and the yearning and the....

Yeah, I realize it's seven, whatever. :P

[neoyi]

[PREVIOUS PAGES]

☀️ "It's built in. Has been ever since the dawn of time… when a few wild dogs took it upon themselves to watch over man… to bark when he's in danger… to run and play with him when he's happy… to nuzzle him when he's lonely. That's why they call us man's best friend."🌙

The rest of "Cumin and Nutmeg."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

⭐ bsky / Prince Marine: The Dandy Robot (webcomic) / itch.io / Ko-Fi ⭐

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Some info under the "Keep Reading."

I actually spent some time researching because I wanted to see what kind of species Pitou would be. While there were some good candidates, I felt it was more appropriate that he be a mutt. I guess if I had to head canon, he's a mix of german shepard and Anatolian Shepherd Dog.

Pitou would have met more than just the Blue Robes. There was a scene I originally planned to draw where he'd have run into some people trapped in the Void as a consequence of existing outside of time, as their original timeline no longer existed. They would have either be nomads wandering around or have since created their own little city for other non-existential people. Pitou would have pitied them, but he would have been too laser focused to find Resh'an to stay.

Another scenario would have had Pitou run into Death, essentially playing out that little series of tags in a previous Pitou comic where he'd declare his intent to live until Resh'an was happy. But I feel like that kind of scenario is best left kept out. It happened without really needing to be shown; why else is Pitou still around centuries later, ya know?

As you can imagine, I don't think Resh'an is a pet person. He would absolutely forget they exist and they'd die out. Even per-immortality, he just never cared too much to own one. He doesn't hate animals (certainly, he prefers them to children), but he's not the kind to coddle up to a little furry friend. Pitou being immortal has been a boon for him, both for his mental health and giving him a better idea on how to properly care for another creature. Though one could argue Pitou is taking better care of his master than Resh'an is to his dog. (No, Resh'an didn't care to own birds instead in spite of the whole eagle thing, he thought they were too damn loud.)

Bonus...

[suzumori521]

Do you have a favorite character you've made? I remember seeing your wolf character on pixiv and I loved him so much 🥹💞

Thank you so much! While I love all of my characters, my absolute favorites are definitely Unegu, the nomadic falconer, and the Queen of the God Eagles.

Introducing the series they appear in will take some time, so I'll gradually introduce them when I have some free time in the future.

[juregim]

though because one of my projects has to do with visual history of Kazakhstan, it gave me a chance to further dig into Samuil Dudin, ethnographer and photographer from late 19th century. I wanted to share some of my favourite photos of his from his trips to Kazakhstan in no particular order.

Offerings for guests, 1899

left: Pounding boza (fermented beverage), 1899

right: Weaver, 1899

Weavers, 1899

Scene of wedding rite, 1899

Scene of elders' meeting, 1899

Family of a rich kazak (kazakh), 1899

Hunting golden eagle, 1899

Game of asyk (traditional kazakh game), 1899

Group of girls during nomads movement, 1899

Inside view of a yurt. Guests, 1899

[badlywritten-stuff2]

Unwarranted, pt. 2

Back at it again with a part 2. I hope the dialogue isn’t too clunky, because there is a lot of dialogue. Yay!

also some world building? i started writing this before i wrote the headcanons, but i wrote this with the nomad background.

RELATIONSHIP[S]: Implied/pre-Noa x nomad!reader

MEDIA: Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes, Planet of the Apes

WORDS: 2.7k

SUMMARY: You have much to think about, feelings and what not. You tried to work it out in your mind if being closer to Noa and his clan would be feasible, but you’re coming up short of any ideas. To make matters worse, things are tense with Noa after he walks you to the tunnel home

WARNINGS: Angsty, stupid idiots not knowing how to talk to each other, inappropriate thoughts about teeth, some spelling errors I definitely missed, if you squint a little bit of unreliable narrating [only in the beginning], the remnants of jealousy from pt 1

_______________

You packed the rope you’d made into your satchel, finicking with the straps on your horse’s saddle to make sure it was secure on him. You found that, compared to the winter when you had first encountered Noa and his clan, the longer you stayed around this village and they warmed up to you, you had started being invited to have dinner around the communal fire. Now that it was deep in the summer, much of the foods eaten were rich berries and crispy roots and chunks of mouth-watering fish. You think it’s trout.

You’d love to partake in the dinner, especially if it meant you could have a moment of calm to learn more about Noa and his life, but you couldn’t. There were groups of intelligent humans who lived in the wilderness outside of the valley the Eagle Clan lived in, and you were apart of one.

Born and raised, you learned of human history and learned what had happened. It had been so long ago and much of what has been taught was embellished, however the ending was still the same; humanity was sick, you were a dying people. Humans worsened their survival, killing each other in the street for the last bottle of water. Apes took over the planet in droves, quickly outpacing humanity as the dominant life form. Apes flourished as humanity set themselves ablaze, putting your kind on the brink of extinction. At least, that was what you had been told. Most who survived went underground, hiding in ‘bunkers’, locking themselves away from the rest of the world. However, some who were immune stayed above to challenge the new world and they passed on that immunity onto their children. Until one day, you were brought into this world.

Many humans, both above and below, thought Apes were dangerous. That they have usurped the throne humans had, falling an empire who held tight to their power. These were the sentiments your own tribe held. If they knew you went out to see Apes, and talked to them, they’d never let you leave again, or worse.

It was best to leave. For your safety and Noa’s. You wished you could stay but you had to go, the sun was already dipping closer to the mountains and the trip back to your tribe was an hour’s ride by horseback. Breathing in, looking back one more time to look at the roaring fire building in the center of the village before your ride back, you instead came face to face with Noa. He was still approaching, eight to nine feet away but his direction was clear as he made his way to you. You turned to fully face him as he approached.

‘Leaving so soon?’ the corners of his mouth faintly droop, seeing you had finished up your packing.

You nod. ‘Was… just looking back. Before leave’ you wished your ability to sign was less clunky, but you were still learning how their dialect worked.

Noa chuffed in return, ‘sure you can’t stay?’

‘Yes. Sad.’

Noa laughed, a warm sound that felt like it surrounded just you and him. You felt your heartbeat faster as your eyes landed onto his sharp teeth and locked on, a million thoughts of Noa gripping you by your shoulders and sinking his teeth into your—

“Echo leaving is sad. Can… ride with you. To cave.” Noa’s voice pulled you back. You were always filled with a honeyed feeling whenever he spoke, his uncanny voice gentle and sweet. Capable of being stern and cutting, it was enticing.

“You don’t have to Noa, thank you. I can ride by myself just fine.” You responded, turning and reaching to the horn on your horse’s saddle and pulled yourself up. You turned back to say goodbye for the last time to Noa, but before you could say anything he placed his hand on your leg. Your face and neck went up in flames, the area of your leg touched by Noa’s large hand heating up and clawing up your body into the rest of you.

“Noa will…come with you.” He said definitively and before you could recover and decline, he was already walking away. “Wait here, be right back.”  You rolled your eyes as his back turned to you. Didn’t even give you a second to make the decision for yourself.

Moments later he returned with his own horse, a lovely rich brown mare, riding up to you with a certain swagger you haven’t noticed until recently. He rides beside you with ease, his horse rubbing her nose against the nose of your horse. He looked into your eyes, and you almost lost yourself in his intense mossy green gaze. You felt a thump squeeze into your throat, your palms suddenly feeling sweaty.

‘Let’s go.’ And with that, you both rode off into the woods towards the tunnel that separated his grove from your dangerous world.

The sun kept moving down, turning the sky darker and darker and revealing the stars glimmering above. You liked being on this side of the valley near where the Eagle Clan resided, even as summer was slowly ending its reign and making way for autumn the trees and surrounding flora was at the peak of flourishing through the last hurrah before settling into colours of gold and rich oranges. The air felt different as well, despite it having no real difference, something about crossing into where you knew Noa lived, that you were breathing in the same air as him elated you. Abundance, that’s what it was. Knowing everything that thrived here was fresh, alive and growing and persisted to grow.

A part of you wanted to bring your own tribe here. It was warm in the summer and the winter was mild. Your people would be happy, you wouldn’t have to move constantly or be on the run, you would be safe. You’d be closer to Noa, you’d be able to see him as often as you wanted, no need to leave early and hurry to ride back. You could stay and learn about his world and he could learn about yours. However, unless you wanted death for both your tribe and Noa’s clan, keeping your ‘hunting trips’ to yourself was for the best.

You glanced at Noa, your irises overcast by your lashes. Noa was looking back at you, but he turned away and focused on his horse’s lead in his hands. You chewed the inside of your cheek, trying to suppress the squeeze in your chest.

“So, uh. How was your day?” you keep looking forward, your hands started to feel restless.

“Day was good. How was… yours?” you heard Noa’s voice respond beside you.

A little bit shit. “It was good. Hung out with Soona for most of the day, since you were busy.” You felt bitterness start jabbing against your skin when thinking of earlier in the day. It tainted your voice, your mood turning sour. You had visited Eagle Clan today with the intent to meet with Noa, but his duties as clan leader kept him busy more often than not. This was normal and you understood that he had important responsibilities, but it still made you feel a certain way watching him wrap his hands around the hands of that female ape he was with.

You still hadn’t looked at Noa. “So, who was that female you were talking with earlier? Seems like you and her are close.” You let your eyes drift to your left, watching leaves and twigs go by as your horse walked over them.

“That… was Creek. Older than Noa. Born day after a… new moon.” You listened to his voice, but still didn’t meet his face. “Was working with Creek to fix drying rack… for fish. Noa was needed by another ape, but… rack had to be fixed.”

“Oh. Well, did it go well?”

“Yes. Rack is… holding strong.”

“That’s good.” You turned to Noa, who was looking into the forest ahead of you both. He turned his head and looked at you and met your gaze, his bright eyes staring into yours before you turned your head back forward.  You weren’t sure what the moon looked like when you were born, but that particular detail rubbed you the wrong way. Why did he know what the moon looked like when she was born? Why did that matter to him? You turned away.

The silence between you both returned, permeating thickly through the air. Your neck felt tight. “What… were you talking to Soona about?” you turned to look at Noa again, who was already looking at you.

“Just stuff.” You really didn’t want to talk to Noa about what you and Soona talked about. “Trying to weave my rope properly, not much else.”

“Soona told Noa,” damn it, Soona. “you have found… new mate?” his voice tapered at the end, for a reason you weren’t sure you’d be able to pinpoint.

You felt your whole head and neck heat up, your stomach twisted maliciously. Your hands which kept tight around the reins of your horse’s lead had started to become clammy, the material dampening under your moisture. You bit the inside of your cheek more harshly, feeling a twinge of discomfort before feeling iron leak across your tongue which you then dragged over the backs of your teeth. You didn’t want to look at him, but you couldn't help yourself. Through your eyes you witnessed his gaze, he seemed downtrodden. Was it disappointment in his face? You weren’t sure.

“Uh… not exactly.” Your hand went and gripped the back of your neck, the skin and muscle kneading under your touch.

“What does Echo mean by… ‘not... exactly’?”

“I… don’t really wanna talk about it.” You ground your molars, hoping the pressure and friction would ease your growing bitterness. It did not.

Both you and Noa were silent for a beat, turned away from each other again, letting the sounds of the forest fill in your silence. A running stream of water could be heard if you strained hard enough, the leaves of the trees brushed together and small birds sang their songs overhead. Every now and then a small twig would snap under the weight of your horse.

“Maybe, Echo would feel… better? If talked about it with Noa.” Noa broached the subject again, his voice low.

You exhaled sharply, not bothering to look at Noa yet. Underneath the sourness that clogged your consciousness, guilt wriggled into your mind. Having an attitude with Noa wouldn’t ease your feelings, furthermore he barely knew why you were upset. It wasn’t fair to him, but you felt like you were being prodded and pricked with an icy point, you didn’t want to talk to Noa about it because it was about him. You were upset because he has found someone and that someone wasn’t you. Well—maybe. Admittedly you didn’t know anything about this ‘Creek’ individual. But you couldn’t tell him any of that, you’d be out of line.

“You like Creek?” it slipped past your mouth before your mind could approve it. The words came out all wrong, biting and frustrated, radiating nauseating envy. For the sake of your conscience, which would certainly be torn apart by embarrassment, you kept your eyes pointedly on the ears of your horse.

“…Noa likes Creek, yes. Why does Echo ask?” your hands squeezed on the reins.

“You just seemed close to her. I was wondering, since I’ve only talked to Soona and Anaya.” That part was true, you hoped it didn’t sound as maligned as you felt it did.

There was another beat of silence. “Noa doesn’t… talk to Creek, often. But still… friend.”

Yeah, right. Just a friend, sure. You knew you had no right to feel this way, the fact that you did made you want to recoil from yourself. You were acting insecure, like someone cussing out their partner out-of-line, which was amplified by the fact that Noa was not your partner. Your friend, sure… but he would never reciprocate any of the feelings you felt. It was taboo, unheard of, unnatural. He wasn’t human, and you weren’t an ape; maybe it would be different if you were from the same species. You pressed your tongue against your back teeth once again, feeling the muscle bend to the firm enamel. The surface of your cheeks felt inflamed.

“Is Echo upset with Noa?” Noa’s horse made a small noise as he moved to walk closer next to you, your horses touching snouts briefly before returning to face ahead. “Noa is… sorry. If Noa hurt Echo.”

“No, Noa. You didn’t do anything.” You grimaced and turned your head away, you didn’t want him to see your face in case he saw that you were, in fact, getting upset.

“Then why—”

“Noa, I do not want to talk about it please.” You swivelled your face to look at him. You were momentarily taken aback by how close he had become, about 3 or 4 feet away riding next to you. Noa blinked, his mouth slipping down-ward into a sad frown, his eyes holding the same sad confusion. Your eyes stayed on him as you turned your head, you blinked hard before looking back at your horse’s ears.

Noa didn’t say anything to you the rest of the ride, and you didn’t say anything either. The tension between you was palpable, but you both refused to breach and speak again. You felt bad, you wanted to apologize and spill what was making you upset, but you didn’t want him to know anything more about it. You travelled through the woods for an excruciating ten long minutes, before finally arriving at the tunnel that separated your world from Noa’s. You swallowed which irritated the lump stuck in your throat, looking up at the space in between the trees you saw the sky, which had started to turn from purple to a darker navy. You still had about a forty-five minute ride left between here and your tribe’s current settlement; you didn’t exactly like the idea of being out after dark too long, you had to be quick. You grabbed a short wooden pole you kept wedged in your saddlebag along with a small bag which carried two stones and began working on lighting your torch. Noa didn’t say anything as he watched you get your light going, sparks catching on the wrapping before slowly building into a small flame. You sighed, nibbling your lip. You turned to Noa, and only then did he look back to meet your eyes. You wanted to flinch, his green eyes were still vibrant in the dark.

“Ride safe. See you next time.” Was all you managed to say. Noa just looked at you, his expression was hard to interpret. Noa huffed sightly, before faintly smiling at you.

“See you… next time. Ride safe.”

You nodded at him before continuing on your horse, the light of your now lit torch pushing the darkness around you away as you ventured into the tunnel. You turned your head to the side to try and look back at Noa but halted your movement. He probably has already turned around to ride away, regretting his offer to accompany you back to this corridor. You sighed, all the venom your mind clung to vanish with the lowering of your head and falling of your shoulders. You urged your horse faster, changing from a mellow walk to a brisk trot. The faster you returned the better.

Noa watched you ride away, not missing how you stopped your head from turning. He inhaled deeply and let his exhale briskly rush out of him; a feeling he was unfamiliar with was running rampant through his body. He wished you had looked back, that you had spared him one more glance before leaving. Was he disappointed? Yes, yes, he was. But what was he going to do? He had no claim to you, nothing that bound you to him that would compel one more gaze from you. Watching you leave, your silhouette meshing into the dark and the light of your torch slowly fizzling out of view as you went further and further. Go after them, his heart said, but his mind willed his body firmly in place. You were not his, and he couldn’t figure out how to justify going after you. Noa turned his horse around, going back the way you had came to begin his journey back to the village. Maybe next time you visit, Noa can try and straighten things out with you and make things better. He didn’t know when you were coming back.

---------

woooooo bitterness and jealousy are one hell of a thing, aint they? it so totally sucks that both you and noa are into each other but yall cant seem to figure it out oooooouuuuggghhhh

thank you for readingg<333

[rosewyrn]

The Sharp Chicken

Yellow adorned by red stripes, it flies over the lands. Rarely seen, often as a warning. Normally isolated, it brings always disaster.

Flagship of the purple plague.

Thin and agile. Fast but frail.

At first, bigger than usual—still overshadowed by a radiant star.

Born as a legend, lived as a joke, not feared but dismissed. Even the name disrespected. Forever shamed, called Steve.

Its second appearance, not too different. This time, spotlights stolen by vampires and wolves.

Then, the forbidden lands uncovered the truth.

From chicken sounds, to eagle.

It wanders, fierce and territorial.

Razor sharp swords, actually significant—used to displace the Queen of the lands. It travels, not as a king, but as a nomad.

In search of conflict, enduring even if it shouldn't. Too aggressive for its own good, often fighting over its weight class.

It still loses to thunder and plague, but now earning a respectable death.

Steve, the sharp chicken.

—

If this glimpse stirred something, the Spiral awaits and the Pocket hungers.

—RW

[buried-in-stardust]

In Akqi County, Xinjiang.

The Kyrgyz people mainly live in Kyrgyzstan, Uzbekistan, and China, and are one of the official ethnic groups of China. Within China, they are mostly distributed in the southwest of Xinjiang. The practice of eagle falconry among the Kyrgyz can be traced back to 4000 years ago, and is now considered a national-level intangible cultural heritage in China.

The eagles (or sometimes northern goshawk/other birds of prey), are captured from the wild, tamed, then released back into the wild after five years. With the help of the eagles, hunters on horseback are able to hunt pheasant, rabbits, and foxes more easily.

Because of their nomadic lifestyle, eagle falconry played an important role in the past, but in recent years, increasing settlement of the Kyrgyz, environmental destruction, and other factors has meant eagle falconry has become more of a pastime. However, Akqi County is invested in keeping the tradition alive and holds seasonal tourist events where they showcase their falconry as well as promote other cultural traditions through events and exhibitions.

[sentient-stove]

Wing hcs for the seven (+reyna and nico). Because I got bored and they should have wings.

Jason- Swan. Specifically the wings of a trumpeter swan. Large, majestic, maybe a little tragic, pure white and just benefiting of a son of Jupiter and praetor of the legion. He probably spends hours after battle grooming the blood/monster dust/dirt out of them and it’s one hell of a self soothing habit by that point.

Piper- White-Tailed Kite. She’s probably the fastest of the seven, constantly has people asking if she’s got dove wings and it’s lowkey grating on her nerves. It’s a kite, not a glorified pigeon thank you very much. Her and Jason will take turns grooming each other’s feathers though, and it’s lovely bonding time for them both.

Leo- Common Raven. Either signifying knowledge/innovation or the burden of being omened by death, your choice. Who am I kidding, he definitely sees them as bad luck. Clipped on one side from a foster home or possibly when he had a runaway attempt from wilderness camp. Rarely has them out, and stress tears out his own feathers.

Annabeth- Barn Swallow. Kind of plain, but she just lies half the time and says that she’s got owl feathers. Post Mark of Athena, she’s more proud of them and her place among her peers with more exotic wings. Also Percy’s the only person with blanket permission to touch and groom her feathers. Also has a stress tearing issue, but her siblings and partner are good at catching her before she can damage herself too badly.

Percy- Common Kingfisher. Still good for flight, but also allows him to dive and hit the water without worrying about not being able to surface afterwards due to being waterlogged. Bit redundant since he can dry himself off anyway thanks to Poseidon powers but the point still stands. Plus, they’re blue and he’s absolutely chuffed that they are.

Frank- *insert american bald eagle jokes* jkjk. Red-Tailed Hawk. Although he didn’t get his adult feathers until he unlocked his shapeshifter abilities and matured there. He can also change his wings to different ones when he concentrates but it always feels a touch off, so he sticks with the wings he was born with.

Hazel- Golden-Winged Sunbird. Pretty! Unique! Gave her a lot of shit for it in her first life because of course the cursed girl with the death jewels had gold wings. She’s gotten alot more comfortable with having them since meeting Frank and Nico though.

Bonus!

Reyna- Hispanionlan Amazon. Yes, the green clashes with the purple of her praetor cloak. No, that will not stop her from still wearing it. Her and Hylla’s wings match, although Hylla dyes her feathers black in an attempt to seem more intimidating. Reyna tried once and decided that she preferred the original coloring of her wings.

Nico- Cinereous Vulture. Go look up photos, trust me. Absolute wet cat of a bird. Plus honor and respect in death, and like a vulture, Nico is also a scavenger. His wings are missing feathers from neglecting to groom them + the amount of time he’s spent nomadic. Living at camp full time is helping with the feather regrowth however.

[a-disaster-piece]

a slightly belated winter solstice celebration bonfire (including capturing a heart-shaped flame)...

& despite "mid-winter" already being upon us, some of the garden birds continue to re-establish & defend territories.

pretty sure the knysna loeries are now building their nest (their breeding season technically starts about now), with how much more they are vocalising, & coming out to respond when i call them.

also have seen/heard southern boubou & sombre greenbul pairs being very interested in a certain tree & squabbling over it.

all the sunbird species (usually winter breeders in the western cape) continue to go nuts screaming & chasing each other all over the garden.

(cape) bulbul season seems to have been very short this year, though there are still some stragglers, & after the (cape) batis nest failed a second time, they haven't really been around much, but they did pop in yesterday.

the african fish eagles are regularly back on the dam, sans their annoying baby, seems they successfully dropped it off into the nomadic juvenile/subadult/nonbreeding floater "creche." such a joy to have an iconic species around nearly every day, & hear their unmistakable call on the regular.

AND! had a levaillant's cisticola & a whole flock of adorable swee waxbills turn up a few days ago, which now makes the home/garden list to 91 species!!