#tusks and wool

[blueeyeddarkknight]

The gnarly (but hilarious) pig transformation that used to give me nightmares as a kid 😳 🙆🧙 🐗

From the making of Willow documentary

The pig/human hybrid reference prop from the movie

Imma end it on a sweet note ⚔️ 💋 🔥

[gummi-stims]

I would like a stimboard for my specific version of polyphemus please bb ❤️

@oleanderunderground

You got it babe, hope this is good <3

🧿-🐑-🧿

👁- x -🌊

🧿-🐑-🧿

[risingsunresistance]

i've always drawn him with his ears flopped over like the old spot

but i am also a big fan of pigs whose ears are just ^ ^

[peachessndreamss]

Wolfswood

Summery : Cregan receives an injury while out hunting, his wife cares for him

Characters : Cregan Stark x f!wife reader (no use of Y/N)

Warnings : Cannon typical injury and first aid/wound care, cannon typical hunting

Word count : 4k

A/N : Cregan Stark I love yooou. Also, apologies in advance if this is the most boring thing you've ever read.

Winter had arrived with devastating speed and brutality in the North. The first heavy snowfall had destroyed the last remaining crops left out in the fields and the woodpiles stacked as high as two men and just as wide had looked like enough to see them through two winters but soon began to deplete at an alarming rate. 

And when a great boar had been sighted at the edge of the Wolfswood, Lord Cregan Stark quickly called the men of his house to a hunt, knowing it was better to find the creature now and make use of it rather than let it be starved by the winter. 

They had set out in the pre-dawn, 10 men of House Stark, wrapped in layers of leather, wool and fur, mounted on the most surefooted horses the Winterfell stables had to offer. Lord Stark rode at the front of the group, his steward and close friend Martyn Snow riding beside him, the two of them talking as they disappeared from sight. 

Once in the Wolfswood Lord Stark had led the hunt, first on horseback as they tracked the creature deeper into the cover of the dense wood and then on foot, when the terrain had become too dangerous for the horses and the boar needed to be harried out of its hiding place.

Cregan had been moving slowly north, stepping over tangles of brambles and avoiding tree roots thicker than his thighs, the men of the group formed a large crescent shape as they moved slowly, hopefully driving the animal toward a clearing. One of the men at the end of the line gave a sharp whistle to indicate the group should stop, instinctively his head moved toward the sound and in that split second of distraction Cregan missed the rustling of dead leaves and the heavy breathing of an animal charging. 

The great tusk of the boar gored his left thigh. Cutting deeply through the skin to the muscle beneath, bright red blood immediately falling to the leaves at his feet. The power of the blow from the animal knocked him off his feet and sent him slamming into the cold ground, the back of his head knocking hard against a tree root. The metallic stink of blood filled his nose as shouts went up from the men of the household, they abandoned the hunt and gathered around their injured lord. 

“Get the beast,” was all he managed to say before the wintery sunlight faded from his view and he wasn't aware of pain or cold anymore. 

Lady Stark watched the hunting party return from the covered walkway between the Great Keep and the Armory. She expected to see Cregan leading the party, a triumphant smile on his cold reddened face with the great beast slung over the back of his stallion. 

Instead it was Cregan's steward, Martyn, who galloped in at the front of the procession, his horse wet with sweat, its nostrils flaring as it snorted. The animals rider didn’t look much better, the steward’s face was fearful and the same colour as the bark of the weirwood tree, his pale brown leather jerkin was darkened with blood. 

“My lady,” he called when he saw her watching, “Lord Stark’s been hur’, cut by the boar. Please send for the maester,” 

His words caused a lump of ice to form in her stomach, chilling her from her heart outward. There was always a risk when the men went hunting, and more often than not her husband returned home with some small injury or another but this had to have been serious. As she dashed into the Great Keep she caught sight of a wagon being drawn by two great horses, on the bed of the wagon a tangle of fur and blood, she fought a wave of nausea at the sight and ducked inside the keep. 

Her feet were light and silent as she reached the maester’s chambers, not bothering to knock on the old man’s door she threw it open with a crash. 

The maester was startled by her sudden interruption, jumping up from his stool at the desk with surprising speed and agility for a man who was nearing 70. He opened his mouth, ready to scold whoever had so rudely burst into his rooms, but his words died on his lips. 

“Lord Stark’s been injured in the hunt,” she said, praying her voice didn't waver and give away the fear that was gripping her throat like a claw. 

“Injured how?” The maester replied, moving toward the large wooden sideboard that dominated the room. On the shelves were jars, bottles and boxes containing every substance needed by a maester, and probably a few they didn’t need as well. 

“Gored, I don't know where, they've just arrived back, please come now,” she said firmly, not willing to keep Cregan waiting. 

The maester nodded and gathered his heavy leather case from the side, the bag was filled with sharp tools and simple herbs and mixtures for most every day healing.  He followed behind Lady Stark as she led them to the undercroft of the Great Keep, where there was a great deal of noise and disruption. 

The undercroft was a dark, cool, enclosed space usually used for storage, most days it would only see one or two visitors but now it was alive as men lit torches around the walls while others heaved Cregan’s limp form onto the huge oak table that sat in the centre of the space. They stripped him out of his blood soaked outer clothes and left him lying in his linen shirt and woollen trousers. 

The left leg of his trousers was ripped open at the mid thigh, revealing a 5 inch gash, skin and muscle had been torn apart and glistened dark red. A tourniquet above the wound had stopped most of the bleeding but his face was ghostly pale and his lips an unhealthy shade of blue. 

Lady Stark moved slowly toward the head of the table where Cregan’s closed eyes made him look almost peaceful, the maester went straight to the wound and began cutting away at his trousers. 

“Has he been talking?” he asked as he began to inspect the wound more closely. 

“A little, but he was unconscious for a minute or so after it happened,” the steward replied, standing by Cregran’s right hip, wringing his hands together. 

“Hello my love,” Lady Stark said softly, brushing her hand over his forehead, willing herself not to fall to her knees and weep when she felt how cold his skin was. 

His grey eyes fluttered open and blinked slowly, trying to bring his wife’s face into focus, the world around him seemed to shift violently, left and right, up and down but her warm hand on top of his head held him steady. 

“Now, what have you been up to?” she asked softly, as if addressing one of their children. 

Cregan’s whole left leg throbbed painfully and his stomach roiled with nausea, he swallowed once, finding his mouth and throat dry. 

“It's barely a scratch,” he croaked. Lady Stark gave a small huff that might have been out of amusement and stroked her fingers over the crown of his head. 

“‘Tis a dreadful looking scratch,” she replied, “still, the maester’s here now,”. 

Cregan hissed with the pain as the maester applied a green tinged ointment to the wound. Sweat broke out all over his body and he felt his hands start to tremble. 

“Did they get the beast?” Cregan asked, once the initial wave of pain had passed and faded back into a constant throb. 

Lady Stark glanced at Martyn who gave a small nod of his head. 

“Of course, and you shall have the beast's head for your chambers if you want”. 

He gave what appeared to be a weak nod before closing his eyes again and taking a deep breath. Cregan had known pain before but dislocated shoulders, broken bones and the sharp bite of Valyrian steel were nothing compared to this. 

At his thigh the maester had soaked a small piece of linen in a clear, strong smelling substance that he placed over the wound before tightly wrapping a clean bandage before removing the tourniquet tied high up his thigh. As the blood was allowed to flow back into the lower leg the colour returned to the skin but there were no signs of excessive bleeding at the wound. The maeester turned his attention to Lady Stark. 

“It’s as clean a cut as we can expect from a tusk, most importantly there’s no sign of dirt within, I have great faith that it will heal well,” the maester explained, wiping his hands on a clean piece of linen that was tucked into the belt at his waist. 

“I'll go to my rooms now and make a poultice to fight infection and in the meantime he can be moved to his rooms to ensure he's comfortable,” he added. 

With a small nod from Lady Stark the men still standing around the room went into action, they brought a stretcher and carefully moved Cregan from the table to the stretcher. He was then carried slowly through the Keep and up to his rooms. The masters chambers were the largest but the least used within the Great Keep, Cregan and his wife favoured the smaller but warmer Lady’s chambers, especially as they were the closest rooms to the children’s rooms. 

Once he was settled on the bed she sent for two bowls of water and a cloth before stripping him of the last remaining pieces of clothing. Unable to lift him from the bed to get his shirt over his head she cut the fabric straight up the middle with a small knife, pushing the two halves over his chest and cutting the sleeves apart to expose his arms. She also had to cut away what was left of his trousers, finding some of the material stuck to his skin with blood. 

Once he was as bare as the day he’d been born she soaked the cloth in warm water and set about washing him. Somehow the blood had managed to get up to his neck and down to the bottom of his left foot. She started at his neck, watching as droplets of reddened water ran down onto his chest and collected in the dark mess of curls that started at his collar bone, completely covered his chest and then funnelled into a thick strip that ran all the way down his stomach to the apex of his thighs.  

“I swear you're more beast than man sometimes,” she said softly as she dabbed at his chest, lifting the blood from his skin and hair. 

“It's the wolf in me,” he replied softly. 

Her head snapped towards his face, she’d had no idea he was awake and seeing his soft gaze on her face brought a wave of emotion flooding through her body. The usual surge of love she felt whenever she looked at him, intense relief at seeing his cheeks a healthy flushed colour after how deathly pale he’d looked before and bubbling anger brought on by the extreme fear that still sat in her stomach like a block of ice. 

“The wolf couldn't smell the boar sneaking up on you?” She asked as she felt tears burn her eyes. Cregan offered her a small, reassuring smile. 

“The wolf is more,” he paused a second while he thought, “passive...”. 

Unable to resist him, Lady Stark felt herself smiling and the two of them shared a laugh before she continued to wash him, revealing the pale skin under the dark curls and dried blood. 

“You're lucky it wasn’t more serious,” she said softly as she wrung the red water out of the cloth into a mostly empty bowl before dipping the cloth back into clean water, “if it’d caught on the inside of your leg you'd have been dead before they got you home,” she added, an icy edge to her voice as the fear that had gripped her throat now throbbed behind her eyes. 

“But I wasn't,” he placated gently, reaching out and taking hold of her wrist as she dabbed at his stomach.

“I'm fine,” he added when he noticed the tears gathering in her eyes and the angry wobble of her bottom lip. 

She snatched the hand from his, throwing the cloth into the bowl of clean water at her feet. The water splashed up, catching the skirt of her dress. 

“And what if you weren't? What if you weren’t fine?  Your son is barely 9 months old Cregan, do you expect me to hold the entire North until he comes of age? Fighting off every grasping lord from The Wall to Dorne trying to get to him and steal his birthright?” An angry tear tracked down her cheek.

“I cannot be regent, Cregan, I cannot be here without you,”. 

He reached out again and took hold of her balled first at the wrist, bringing her hand towards his face, pressing a soft kiss to her curled fingers. 

“And nor will you be,” he said softly, his lips still touching her fingers, “you and I are going to grow very old together, so old they write songs about us when we're all but turned to dust,”. 

She gave a small, watery laugh through her tears and pulled her hand out of his again. 

“Now you're just placating me,” she said, reaching into the bowl for the cloth and ringing it out. 

“Of course I am,” he replied with a smile, stretching his right arm up and settling it behind his head, the bend in his arm causing his muscle to flex and bulge under his skin. Were it not for the bandage around his leg he would have looked as if he was just relaxing for the evening. 

“I understand well that my most important duty is keeping you happy,”. 

Lady Stark scoffed at him and returned to the gentle washing of his stomach. A small smile tugging up the corners of his lips as he watched her tending to him so carefully. He'd been in a fair few scrapes before this one and was always happy to be tended to by his wife, the mixture of her gentle hand and sharp words always made him feel better. 

“Am I permitted to say how I'm enjoying your undivided attention?” He asked. 

“You may not say it” she replied, flicking her eyes to his face and catching him grinning at her. 

“I shall just think it then,”. 

They both fell into a tense silence as her cloth inched closer to the bandaged wound. The maester had said he would come by later that day to stitch the wound closed once it had time to dry and he could be certain there was no rot. Sweat broke out across his body as her gentle touch began to feel like needles piercing his skin, he kept his jaw firmly shut, unwilling to let a single sound of pain pass his lips.

“Would you take something for the pain?” She asked, not needing to hear him cry out to know he was in great discomfort, she wrang the cloth out again wetted it with clean water again. 

“I would rather keep my wits,” he replied, his voice strained. 

“Then perhaps a little when we’re finished and you can rest?” She pressed. She knew he disliked the effects of milk of the poppy but seeing him in such pain made her heart ache. 

“Perhaps,” he nodded before pressing his lips tightly closed, redoubling his efforts to stay silent.

She finished his bed bath at his left foot, cleaning the dried blood from the bottom of his toes and the ball of his foot. And all the pain that had passed before paled in comparison to the agony he felt as her hands gently tended the most ticklish part of his body. He fought with every ounce of willpower to stay still and not curl his toes and kick his foot out of her hands. 

Once finished she rung the cloth out one final time before standing and carrying the two bowls of water across the room and setting them aside to be cleared away later. 

“Will you sleep for a while? She asked him, moving back toward him and running her hand over his forehead before drawing a soft woollen blanket over his nakedness. 

Cregan nodded, suddenly feeling exhausted and wanting nothing more than to close his eyes and sleep until the dawn of the summer. 

“Alright, will you take a little milk of the poppy?” she asked.

He nodded again, opening one of his eyes to peek at her face. 

“And a kiss to sweeten it?” He asked, letting the corners of his lips quirk up just a touch. 

She laughed softly, taking the small bottle of white milky liquid from the table beside their bed. She unstopped it and helped him lift his head off the pillow, she held the bottle to his lips while he took a small swallow before dropping his head back onto the pillow with his eyes closed. 

“And to make it sweet,” she said, bending and pressing her lips to his. 

As she stood he opened his eyes again although she could already see he was fighting the effects of the milk of the poppy. 

“Kiss the babies for me as well?” he asked. 

“Of course,” she replied, stroking his forehead again and watching his eyes close as he finally gave in and allowed himself to be dragged into a dreamless sleep. 

She watched him for a few minutes, keeping an eye on the steady ride and fall of his broad chest. In sleep he always appeared to be younger, his features softened as sleep took away the worries and the duties he carried on his shoulders every day. 

Once she was happy he would sleep for a while and there was nothing else she could do for him, Lady Stark went in search of Martyn the steward, she knew he would be worried and was waiting for news of his lord and friend. 

She found him outside the stables, running a brush over Cregan’s stallion. 

“Is he alright?” Martyn asked as she approached him. There was a panicked edge to his voice and his face betrayed his worries. 

“He'll be fine,” she soothed with a nod, “he's made of strong stuff,” she added as she placed a comforting hand on his forearm. 

“I'm sorry he was hurt, my lady,” he said, already looking lighter knowing Cregan was alright. 

“You've nothing to be sorry for, he's a man grown and it's his own fault if he doesn't hear a boar sneaking up on him,” she said, making her voice playful and teasing. 

“I'll pray for him,” the steward said, returning to brushing the huge grey horse that stood patiently in front of him.

“Thank you, I know he'll appreciate that,”. 

She stayed talking to the steward a little longer, the two of them discussing how to make the best of the creature that’d been killed that morning. The sky was quickly darkening and the air turning colder by the minute, although no new snow had fallen that day there was a crisp smell of it on the air and dark, heavy clouds covered the sky, threatening a heavy snowfall that night. 

She left Martyn to his final tasks for the day and returned to The Great Keep, she went first to the nursery to look in on their children. The eldest, Aly, was playing on the floor with her nurse, the two of them racing carved wooden animals across the floor. She paid no attention to her mother when she entered the room, too caught up in her game, while their son slept in his cradle. 

She lifted the boy from his crib and carried him to a chair beside the fire where she sat, focusing on nothing other than the small sound of his breathing and the tiny movements as his chest expanded and contracted with every breath. 

After a few minutes Aly got up from her spot on the carpet, her wooden horse still clutched tightly in her small hand as she walked toward her mother. 

“Where's papa?” She asked, coming to stand beside the chair, reaching out her own empty hand to take her mothers. 

“Resting, the men went hunting this morning, do you remember?”. 

“Will he put me to bed?” Aly asked, letting the toy horse drop from her hand with a small thud. 

“Not tonight, I can do it tonight,” Lady Stark replied. 

The girl sighed heavily, like she'd received some truly dreadful news, her small shoulders slumping. 

“But Papa tells the best bedtime stories,”. 

“I know he does, and I’m sure he’ll have a very special one for you tomorrow night,”. 

After another heavy sigh Aly climbed up into the chair with her mother and younger brother, curling into Lady Starks chest and closing her eyes. The girl found a loose thread on the bodice of her mothers dress and begin to twist it around her finger, in a few minutes she too has slipped off to sleep. 

The warm weight of her children soothed the Lady’s fractured nerves, this wasn't the first time her husband had returned home injured, his body was a tapestry of scars, each one she'd lovingly touched and kissed in turn, learning his scars as closely as a traveller learns a map. 

When she heard the first spatterings of wet snow from the nursery window Lady Stark decided it was time for her to look in on her patient. Calling the nurse over and letting the young woman take the sleeping girl from her lap. 

“Let her sleep a few more minutes, then wake her or she’ll never sleep tonight,” Lady Stark instructed as she stood and carried her small son back to his crib. 

“And I'll be back to feed this one once I've looked in on Lord Stark,” she added, lowering him into the cradle and watching as he settled. 

The nurse nodded and smiled softly as she lowered Aly onto her day bed, covering the girl with a soft embroidered blanket. 

Cregan didn’t stir when the heavy oak doors of his chambers were opened and his lady wife stepped inside, she paused, watching him for a few moments to see that his condition was unchanged, the only difference was that he’d thrown the blanket off his body and was now lying naked, his whole body exposed to the cool air. Moving toward him she noticed his breathing was still easy and his cheeks were a healthy colour. She touched the back of her hand to his cheek and then his forehead. 

At her touch his eyes flicked open and he blinked slowly as the world around him came into focus. He made a small sound of approval that rumbled up deep from his chest as his eyes focused on his wife. 

“How are you feeling?” She asked softly. 

“Better for seeing you,” he replied, his voice gravelly. 

“You're a dreadful flirt Cregen,” she replied with a smile, knowing his ability to flirt was a far better indication he was on the mend than anything else would be. 

“Come lie with me,” he said, choosing to ignore his wife's chastisement.

“Only for a few minutes,” she replied, moving to the other side of the bed and climbing on it, settling herself beside him and placing her head on his shoulder. 

He wrapped one arm around her shoulders and encouraged her to roll onto her side, tightening her body to his in a familiar and comfortable way and she sighed contentedly. Her hand rested on his chest, her fingers pushing and playing with the dark curls of hair. Cregan turned his head and placed a soft kiss on her forehead, feeling the warmth of her body sink into his own flesh and bones. 

“I should ban you from future hunts,” she said, her voice muffled by having her face squashed on his shoulder, “make you take an oath never to put yourself in such danger again,”

“Even for you, I could not swear such an oath,” he replied, kissing her forehead again and keeping his lips pressed to her skin, breathing in the familiar and comforting scent from her hair. 

The two lay in silence for several minutes, Lady Stark listening to the steady and deep drum beat of his heart, the thumping sound reminding her that he was still alive, injured but alive and home with her and in their private moment it was easy for her to believe that was the only thing that mattered in all the known world. 

“But I can swear, it will only be death that keeps me from you,”.

[gorgugplushie]

I've been trying to lay my head down..

[ID: A Digital drawing of Lucy Frostblade. Lucy is a frost genasi with greyish blue skin and patches of light blue vitiligo, dark purple eyes, long pointed ears, dark blue scales on her hands, nose, and ears, sharp yellow fangs and tusks, and dark greying blue hair tied in short braids. She is wearing a cream colored wool sweater, an earring of a red star, a black spiked wristband, a red and black bracelet, and dark purple arm coverings. Lucy gives a shy smile while looking towards the left. The background is a off white color, with small purple sparkles, and the words "I don't know what to do without you, I don't know where to put my hands." Written in bright blue around Lucy. /end ID]

[experiment-dsmp]

Extremely, like you've actually lived it

There's a small pause where you debate on how honest to be. But the moment you open your mouth to speak, the truth floods out.

"It's insanely clear." You say as you start shaking. "It's as if I've actually lived it. I still feel the tusk impaling my body. The isolation. The squirming vines under my skin. Even the beak tearing off chunks of my flesh." You start to tear up as you speak.

You didn't get it. Why werr they so clear? Why did it feel as if you've actually lived through those? Would anyone else remember? How would they act?

Before you can voice your worries Puffy's hugging you tight. Her fur… no, her wool was incredibly soft. You don’t even think twice on returning the hug best you can without irritating your broken leg.

“How would you like to live with me?”

The question caught you off guard. “What?”

She laughs a bit. “You know, join me in my tunnels, learn their layout, have that your home.” She pulls back to move your hair out of your face. “Maybe we could even be a family.”

This came at a weirdly pleasant surprise. But..: was it what you wanted? Sure, a family sounds nice, but living in an underground tunnel system didn’t.

(Poll length increased to a week to reflect how long between updates its been better. Also increases the amount of answers I may get)

[dailytdp]

Xadian Flora/Fauna

Innean Pig

Native to Innean, these pigs were bred as domestic livestock within the city. However it is unknown their current status after the recent fall of Ineean.

Innean Pigs have developed a thick wool coat along with two short horns on the top of their heads and large tusk on the sides of their face. It is assumed their wool is sheered for clothes and other goods.

Known Habitats: Innean, Sunfire Settlements (presumably imported)

[silverhart-makes-art]

I think this week's Bestiary Posting is pretty fascinating. I especially like the animal being described as having 'mercy', as I feel like many people would consider that a distinctly human trait. I kind of assumed this idea of animals being like machines incapable of emotions was an old idea, but this and other bestiary entries really seem to humanize the animals listed in them more then I expected.

Anyway, I think what the Zomargon actually is, is pretty obvious, but the bit that stood out to me the most was: "it strikes fear into bulls, yet fears the mouse", and my mind immediately went to my dog. He likes to put on a lot of bluster when confronted with larger dogs or animals, but show him a bug and he runs behind the couch and cries until someone comes to save him.

So, it had to be a poodle. There's no other animal it could possibly be. Lively intelligence, scared of mice, works with people, if one of them falls over they have to gather around and make a big drama about it - that's a poodle for sure.

So this description lists a lot of different traits, so I'm just gonna go down them all and explain my thoughts.

"His nose is called a trunk because he uses it to put food in his mouth."

At first I went with an elephant shrew-type nose, but that's not so great for grabbing, but you know what would be? A hand. And what has a hand on the end of it's nose? That's right, a star-nosed mole. So combination trunk/star nose situation.

"The Persians and Indians, carried in wooden towers on their backs..."

So we know it's a big critter, to able to carry people on it's back.

"...lively intelligence and a long memory..."

Gave them a bit of a big skull to accommodate those big brains. I can also confirm that poodles never forget and hold onto to grudges for years.

"...she goes out into a pool, until the water comes up to her udders."

For sure a mammal this time, so good to know.

"If the Zomargon finds a snake, it kills it..."

This explains why my dog's favorite toys are the ones made to look like snakes and why they are the first to get torn to shreds.

"if it falls down, it cannot rise."

For this I was thinking about how this happens to sheep quite often, when they're pregnant or their wool is too heavy, so I gave my Zomargon a broad back and thick woolly fur that can grow out into a big poof-ball (as I doodled in the bottom).

"...it has no joints in its knees."

This one was tricky to figure out. The knee is a joint, so how can a joint not be a joint? I had to sketch up a couple of legs off to the side just to try out some ideas. Ended up going with the middle one, and just adding a big fleshy pad on the back of the foot to support it, since there's no mention of hooves. It looks weird, but I guess they make it work?

"They possess the quality of mercy."

If a creature possesses mercy, it of course must have soft, gentle eyes, so I tried to give them a sweet dog-like expression. This is a beastie made for cuddling.

"...they make their way carefully and peaceably lest their tusks kill any animal in their way."

Just throwing in tusks in at the last second, huh? I honestly almost forgot to include them, they seem like such an afterthought in the description. And if Zomargons don't fight each other, the tusks must be used for something else. I decided to give them something like a Thylacosmilus fang situation, where these big saber teeth are supported by this crazy lower jaw. Seems to be some debate about whether these teeth were used for scavenging carcasses or killing prey. The Zomargon also eats fruits according to the description, so maybe these tusks are in fact just for opening coconuts.

[interlockingpatches]

A few of the motifs in the next collection are early-early ones (I only started doing interlocking crochet two years ago but still). The small thread ones are older versions. The big ones are new and wool, but except for adding fill areas (which hadn't occurred to me yet), I've kept the motifs as as close to the originals as possible.

Polar Bear Family is a patch I crocheted before I started making full charts or doing any kind of notation—I would just freehand from a pixel chart like the image at right. This draft page from the Polar Bear Cub pattern shows how far things have progressed:

Narwhal was another early pattern, but I think I've improved it from the 2023 version:

Long diagonals (which also hadn't occurred to me yet) allow for a much better angle on the tusk and a more streamlined body. I have also added spots. I love the old one as it is my child, but it did look kind of like a grumpy beluga in an ill-fitting unicorn costume.

Oh and there are the two puffins side by side. I used different yarn, so it's not obvious that the new one (left) is quite a bit smaller, but I'm also just happier with the chubbier, cuter, more stylized version.

and why not here's a better picture Snowy Owl

patterns out for subscribers this Friday and for everyone else in a couple weeks xoxo

[carnatus89]

DnB December prompts @alterdnbweek

Day 17: Non-Human, Hurt/Comfort

Does this really count as Hurt/Comfort? Not really but it's close enough.

It would be an understatement to say that Dream was a mystery. Most people knew of him, his power, his malice, his cunning, his prowess. Most people knew his successes, his failings, his conquests, his losses. Most people knew of his general appearance, his mask, his primary color, his height, his hair color. Most people knew of his laughter, of his shouts of anger.

Few knew of his tears.

Few knew of what lies under the mask, so people speculate. Some say that his mask hides a hideous scar, maybe a missing eye, maybe half his face burned. Maybe he has some inhuman characteristic, maybe fangs, glowing markings, a third eye. Maybe he has no face, either the skin smooth without any definition or a black hole, absorbing anything that will look at his depths.

A few could guess he had freckles.

Few people knew what his eyes looked like, so people guessed. Most said that he had green eyes, to coordinate with his primary color. Some said that he has brown or black eyes, a dull color as his soul. Some said that he has some special color, maybe purple, maybe pink, maybe yellow, because he must be magical, or that he mustn't be human.

Few wonder how sharp his eyes truly are.

No one knows where he came from, so people theorize. Most see his small flat human ears and lack of hooves or claws or tail and declare him as human. A few remember when he was younger, when he trailed behind his adoptive mother, hair as soft and thick as wool, little hooves following bigger hooves and declaring him a ram. Less know of the sharpness of his eyes, the size of his fangs, the flexibility of his limbs and wonder, not daring mention anything since they’re probably wrong.

Technoblade didn't really care, to be honest.

Piglins don't usually leave the nether, whatever needs they may need, the infernal landscape offers it. Most danger can be overcomed with the tactics and numbers they're known for. Whatever the overworld may offer, piglins didn't really need it. Besides, separating a piglin from his group was a sure way to get a dead piglin, since their bond was so strong, one could die of heartbreak. And most importantly, piglin tusks were a traded item among mob hunters, so it was ill advised to leave the nether all together.

Techno was an anomaly, but if he weren't rescued by Phil when he was little, he probably wouldn't be here to complain. Doesn't change the fact that he knows intimately why full blooded piglins never leave the nether.

He doesn't really care anymore, the overworld is his home and whoever tries to say otherwise can eat his pickaxe. But he can understand the feeling of being hunted, of feeling unwelcome, of all the eyes in a room to focus on him, to analyze him, sizing him to determine what kind of monsters he must be. He doesn't care, he stopped caring about what people thought of him a long time ago, what they thought about his big tusks, his sharp hooves, his big hands, his fur-like pink hair, his red blood eyes. Of course, that changes if someone is threatening him or his loved ones. He can ignore but he will retaliate.

He knows when he's being hunted.

He can guess that Dream is feeling it too.

Techno cast his gaze on the public, the multitude of people, some paralyzed, some confused, some angry, some betrayed. The server has humans, but by a long shot is mostly populated by hybrids. That's actually one of its main characteristics, actually. A place where being human or not didn't really matter, there wasn't a line to cross, people didn't have to care about mob hunters, about people fearing your features, about people looking at you like you were some kind of attraction.

Everyone was welcomed with open arms by Dream, who most considered human.

His snow-white skin says otherwise.

He knows Quackity is talking, brandishing his axe above his head to make himself know while he extends his yellow wings as much as he can. He knows that Sam is at his side, full Warden attire, straight as a rod, looming like a dog waiting for an order, his four paws rooted to the ground. He knows Punz is growling, too long canines showing on his mostly human face, only his eyes betraying any short of doubt about his wolf blood. He knows Phil is muttering behind him, probably drawing conclusions of all this mess with one of his clawed talons on his chin, the feathers on his neck fluttering slightly.

But he can't look away from Dream.

His tan skin has been replaced by a white surface, looking like rock more than flesh, too rough to be skin. His human hands has been replaced by long claws, nails sharp as any enchanted blade, scratching the wooden path like it was made of dirt. His human feet has been replaced by clawed appendages, the only comparison he can think of is of a reptile mixed with an avian, kinda like Ranboo��s. He also has Ranboo’s tail and horns, bigger and thicker, his horns going straight up, sharp as an arrow. The only thing that remains as before, beside the general form of his body, is his hair, golden as ever, the freckles that cover his cheeks and his eyes.

Techno remembers well the first time he saw them. He broke his mask in the duel, and his green eyes stared at him in astonishment, not expecting this outcome. He remembers smiling, satisfied with the battle, and remembers that Dream copied his expression, even though he would feel justified in feeling awkward at someone looking at his too inhuman eyes. But Technoblade didn't care, he was happy to call Dream his rival, for him to fight with him, and that the blonde didn't care about his piglin blood. He isn't a hybrid, he’s full-blood, and few can stand the difference it makes.

He now sees the same eyes, confused and scared. Is not surprising he doesn't care this time either.

“He’s a Dreamon!” Tubbo exclaims, alarmed. The little ram grabs both Tommy’s and Ranboo’s hand, bringing them closer to him. Tommy looks enraged and Ranboo looks sick, probably making connections on his head too, looking at all the people that seem hostile to Dream, wondering if they would be hostile to him.

“Stay back!” Punz barked, in front of the form of Dream on the ground. He looks two seconds away from murder, the only thing keeping him in check is staying in front of the blonde to shield him from everyone’s gazes with all his body.

“I knew he was a monster!” Proclaims Quackity, cackling with force. Sam at his side looks serious, but raises his trident, probably in order to do his ‘duty as a warden’. “He must be locked up!”

“All right, that's enough.”

He can ignore, but if someone threatens his loved ones, he will retaliate.

“Techno?” Is kinda hard to picture Dream’s voice with this new form, his mouth with fangs fused on his lips, and sharp teeth behind. But when he locks eyes with the blonde, he can immediately see the warrior. He hasn't seen his eyes more than once, twice now, but he has the feeling that this is him, no doubt about it.

“Let’s go to my place, yeah? I think Steve might like you.”

He feels the burning stares of everyone on his back, specially Punz, deciding if he’s friend or foe. But right now, his focus is on Dream. He extends his hand to him, showing him his support, on anything that he decides.

He can see the hesitation, the fear, he can see how he flexes his clawed hand, careful of the nails that stab on the wood. He puts his hand delicately on his outstretched one, careful of not harming him. Techno closes his hand, he knows that his skin is hard to pierce, so it should be alright.

People are talking behind him while he helps Dream stand up. Punz is now behind him, blocking Dream from view, determining that Techno is an ally. He hears Phil backing him up, the swoosh of his wings blocking everyone. He just looks at Dream, who tries to smile at him. It’s like he has two row of teeth, his brown freckles now purple, peppering his skin. His green eyes are as sharp as the last time, like everytime he looks up, he’s daring the world itself to try and take him down.

He’s still Dream.

“I also think Carl may like you.”

-------------------------------------

For those who have read my fanfic, this is the reveal that Dream would have of his species have he not met DreamXD, as a little treat

[ahamkara-apologist]

for the sleeping ship asks, from left field, with a steel chair, Zavala/Caiatl

HELL YEAH ZAIATL!! Love this ship

Ship sleep ask game

Who is a night owl:

-Def. Zavala. Caiatl strikes me as the type to understand the importance of rigid sleep schedules, whereas for Zavala, it's more of an anxiety-based issue where he just can't sleep for the worry of it. I think that Caiatl would understand, and would try to get him to rest through other ways, even if he can't sleep

Who is a morning person:

-Both of them are. Zavala by habit, Caiatl by nature. They work like a well-oiled machine when they get up at the crack of dawn and it disgusts everyone who prefers to wake up at much more reasonable, sane times in the day

Are they cuddlers:

-This is such a funny question to me as someone who sees them as very Serious Dignified people- but yes, I do think they'd find comfort in physical contact. Caiatl would probably cup Zavala close to her face so that she could listen to his heartbeat while Zavala would use her arm as a weighted blanket. The tusks are less of a problem than you might think them to be

Who is the big spoon and who is the little spoon:

-Honestly I think they're more side-by-side sleepers, which works pretty comfortably for them both. I DO think that Zavala would reflexively cling on to her arm sometimes, but I think that side sleeping might be uncomfortable for Uluru bc of the orientation of their tusks (unless they have pillows specificially made to keep them from pressing into the bed). So, it's Zavala by default I suppose djfjjej

What is their favourite sleeping position:

-Like I said before, side by side on their backs with Caiatl's head resting on or near Zavala's chest. I think that its probs the most comfortable way for them to sleep together, though I also feel like Caiatl keeps trying to get Zavala to sleep on her chest, which Zavala still feels a little silly about

Who steals all the blankets:

-Caiatl by default bc there is NO WAY that Zavala can do that on an Uluran-sized bed. Like. Honestly I would like to see him try. He's not going anywhere with that shchchhdnd

What they wear to bed:

-Caiatl probably has a very regal royal bedrobe that she dons that is never meant to be seen by others yet is still beautiful enough to look like official regalia, which she kinda dislikes for its fanciness but is too comfortable/now rare to *not* wear (she prefers more plain clothes in private, but if its from the wool of a now-lost beast of Torabatl...). Zavala himself has just old, worn out tshirts and pants that he prefers, since they've long grown soft from use. You know, the type that aren't yet washcloth material, but are getting there? Yeah

Who likes seeing the other wearing their t-shirt:

-Both of them are extremely serious military leaders who would treat each other with respect and dignity and would never think of doing anything else. Caiatl once saw Zavala hold up a sweater he was knitting for her to check its size and had to muster all of her diplomatic strength to not laugh at how small he was compared to her

Who falls asleep mid-conversation:

-Zavala, because he works himself to the bone and sometimes goes overboard with it even though he's been trying to get better about that. Caiatl usually catches it and sternly (but affectionately) tells him off when it happens, but that's not always a gurentee. She herself isn't exactly immune to that either, but she's a little better at it bc she gets really grumpy when sleepy and that's a pretty good tell for her

Who wakes up in the middle of the night with nightmares:

-Both of them do. I feel like the prescence of each other greatly helps with the nightmares, but it doesn't stop them entirely. Most of the time they just need a moment to breathe, feel that the other is right there next to them and that they are both safe and sound, and then they go back to sleep. It's the security that helps them most of all

Who accidentally punched the other in their sleep:

-Caiatl has: Zavala has obliterated enough things by accident that he's somewhat trained himself out of it. Though, ah, that's hardly an issue now without the Light, and Caiatl's sleep punches are now far more of a concern as consequence :')

Who can’t keep their hands to themself:

-Caiatl strikes me as more of the touchy one; I think that she's the sort who absolutely despises being touched without warning by people she doesn't know, but then with people she cares about she tends to be very physical with them. Zavala is very similar, but I can also imagine him as a more verbally affectionate guy who then follows up with touch vs initiating with it outright. Both of them are very formal with their courtship and yet both of them delight in it, bc they're already comfortable with each other

[the-witchy-sideblog]

Associations with The Flesh/Viscera

Butcher and cooking knives

General cooking ware

Wooden stoves

Smokers

Firewood, bonfires, grills

Meats (cooked, dried, etc.)

Bones and teeth

Wool

Farm animal skins

Blood and bone meal

Tusks and hooves

Anatomically correct heart and organ figures

Anatomy diagrams

Leather

Hay or forage pellets

Bloodstone, garnet, carnelian crystals

Calcite, iron, and silica

[howlingday]

What are some faunus ideas you think they should do? Here's my ideas: Squirrel tail, Mole nose, Fish gills, Parrot feathers, Condor wings, Fish scales, Snail shell, Shrimp tail, Viper fangs, Shark fins, Seabunny rhinophores, Rooster crest, Flying Squirrel flaps, Basiliscus feet, Beaver tail, Ladybug wings, Platypus ankle barbs, Tardigrade adaptation, Zebra legs, Beaver teeth, Binturong tail, Manta wings, Elephant trunk, Porcupine quills, Gorilla arms, Bee stinger, Frog legs, Frog tongue, Seahorse tail, Elephant ears, Dragonfly wings, Peacock tail, Ant antennae, Worm regrowth, Lemur tail, Armadillo scales, Tortoise shell, Hippo claws, Remora suckers, Rattlesnake tail, Mussel scales, Squid mantle, Spider legs, Piranha fangs, Warthog tusks, Crane legs, Phycodurus leaves, Globster scales, Crab pincers, Hydridae tendrils, Vulture beak, Rhino horn, Duck feet, Alopias tail, Barreleye skull, Lionfish spines, Pillbug scales, Skunk tail, Ant arms, Moose antlers, Anemone tentacles, Sloth claws, Butterfly wings, Chipmunk cheeks pouches, Cobra hood, Moloch thorns, Seal blubber, Eel bioluminescence, Caterpillar lower body, Sheep wool, and Mantis blades.

Wow, that's... a lot of traits. And they're all so cool, too!

That said, I feel like some of these are less traits and more superpowers.

If I had to choose one from your list that I'd like to see, it's the viper fangs, just so we can see someone do the Viper Yawn (tm).

[bluegekk0]

do you think there are any animals similar to like. moose in size ratio? something that is hard to take down but is absolutely worth it bc it can last a place months

thinking abt the room in CoT, cannibalism def happened during the hibernation, so what do ya think lurien did with all the bodies and well.. left overs?

I'll start with the cannibalism thing. Looking at the screenshot from the location, there are a bunch of Gruzzers and a Gruz Mother (or maybe a Boofly) there so that part would not be considered cannibalism since they're simple beasts that are widely considered a food source. The big issue there are the dead Mushrooms. If that is something that also happened in the AU, it would definitely introduce an interesting topic that would be very controversial in-universe. Perhaps the infection was a very hard time so the surviving bugs of the city resorted to eating them to survive, seeing them as the "least sapient" of the beings in Hallownest. Maybe they were not considered fully sapient by some in the first place, which would be a big point of discussion. I do think it all happened during Vyrm's absence, I can't see him allowing that to take place; if it was the case during his rule then it must have been a very well hidden secret that somehow escaped him and his guards, but I think that's unlikely (it's a big deal, word would definitely spread and reach him). Lurien would definitely be in the same camp as Vyrm and see the Mushroom as sapient, so I think he would order to have the bodies buried and anyone still associated with the place arrested.

Now about the fauna question. I really like the moose-like beast idea, I think something like that would live either on the surface in the mountains or underground. I want to design a wild Mamoth species, the domestic one is huge so the wild one would be similar in size, and very hard to take down. For some general idea of what they look like and their size, here is the work in progress Dirtmouth fauna chart including some unfinished designs. For context, Vyrm is slightly shorter than the average bug.

The domestic ones resemble a sheep, they were bred for their wool that is used for clothes among other things. The wild variant would look a bit different, not as wooly and much more intimidating, I like the idea of them having large tusks.

(As a little extra note, the unfinished designs are a surface Maskfly species + a domesticated one, a chicken like critter and a pig-like creature bred for their meat and fat)

Unrelated to the question but another creature I want to design is a wolf-like predator beast alongside a domesticated species. In fact, I really want to design one that would be Hornet's pet "dog" that accompanies her on her hunts. For now I have these two concepts, though I want to tweak them once I revisit this idea:

I think incorporating some existing animal equivalents is a really fun design challenge and it would flesh out the AU fauna really well, so I'm always open for some fun suggestions haha

[fantasy-anatomy-analyst]

I have a question.

I’m drawing an orc woman, and here are the animals I drew inspiration from for her design:

I was wondering how I could blend these animals into a humanoid design.

(image description: photos of several animals. these include a highland cow, a large horse, some sort of wooly sheep or goat, a donkey, a hippo, and a warthog. end description)

the first step is figuring out which distinct traits of each animal you want to utilize, and what they might have in common. I've made a messy little thought map here about it:

(image description: the same photos as above, arranged in a collage with added photos of hippo teeth and feet. the photos are faded and dark blue lines are drawn over them to trace the main shapes of each animal, alongside connecting arrows and notes pointing out the similarities between some of the animals. end description.)

The highland cow and the sheep both have fluffy hair or wool, and a pair of horns. They are also even-toed hoofed animals, as are the hippo and warthog. the horse and donkey are odd-toed hoofed animals. The hippo and warthog both have really big teeth. All of these animals are ungulates, most of them have large ears and a lot of muscle, and all of them have a long face.

Orcs are usually drawn big and muscular and fat, with big tusks, so the most obvious route here is combining the warthog and hippo teeth somehow. I think the hippo feet are the best bet for orc feet, as they're more flat and soft, easier to adapt to a bipedal design.

an orc that takes features from all these animals will probably have a pretty hairy body, maybe curly hair to reflect the sheep wool. it would also be interesting to see an orc with horns, as that's not super common in most depictions of orcs. I would also suggest leaving the longer face shape rather than trying to make it very short and humanoid.

I've made a couple of test sketches as a visual aid. this is just my concept based on your idea, so your final design will probably look different as you work out what you really want the character to look like.

(image description: a simple sketch page of an orc woman using features from the animals above. She is large and hairy, with extra hair on her wrists and ankles like the horse's fluffy feet. She is wearing her hair in braids and she has a small pair of horns on her forehead. Her nose is long and round with large nostrils. She has long ears. Her teeth are visible as a pair of warthog-like tusks and two big teeth coming out of the front of her lower jaw. A small eye sketch shows horizontal pupils. end description.)

[somethingclevermahogony]

Happy WBW! Does your setting have any unique in-world symbolism? Like, are roses considered romantic there, or a different flower? Is there a popular symbol for death besides a skull?

I forgot this was in my drafts! Sorry this is so late! If you have questions about why any of the symbols apply to a certain concept let me know! I might do more posts like this in future, not sure yet.

I'm going to stick to Kishetal for this one, and I'm going to keep this one on the short side (For me). I'm keeping this one to just Love and Death, Hope that's okay.

Love

The Kishite understanding of love is quite a complicated one, in that there is no singular definition of love, and as such no singular word for it. The word Pati means desire or want for, this acts as a suffix for terms relating to types of love. Broadly love can be divided into ten categories, Ulipati (Romantic love), Kipati (Maternal or Paternal love), Kurapati (The love of a pet or animal), Lupati (The love between friends, Platonic Love), Seshpati (Lust, physical love), Impati (Love of an inanimate object or place), Jalimpati (Greed), Ushpati (Love of food and drink), Irpati (Love of Beauty, "Wonder"), and Naholpati (The love of deceased person, grief). 

Ulipati (Romantic Love)

Associated Animals and Creatures: Songbirds, Hoopoes, Dragonflies, Cranes, and Doves

Associated Plants/Fruits/Vegetables: Cherry Blossoms, Lilies, Tulips, Hazelnut, Mint, and Artichokes.

Associated Colors: Purple and Dark Blue

Other Associations: The Sunset, Silk, Hoopoe feather crowns, The Heart, Coral, Jasper, and Bells.

Associated Deities: Uniki "The Great Matron"

Kipati (Maternal/Paternal Love)

Associated Animals: Bears, Lionesses, The Durasi, Owls, and Octopi.

Associated Plants/Fruits/Vegetables: Barley, Opium Poppy, Dates, Sesame seeds, Fir cones, and Olives and Olive Trees

Associated Colors: Orange, Brown, "Earthy colors"

Other Associations: Mud, Mudbrick, Kipsha (Barley cakes), Date syrup, Eggshells, Bird nests, The Stomach, and Owl feathers.

Associated Deities: Olhasuma "Goddess of the Life Giving Sky, Giver of Fertile Rains", Jalpaha "The Great Father"

Kurapati (Love of a Pet or Animal)

Associated Animals: Dogs, Cats, Cattle, Weasels, Sheep, Horned-Rabbits, and Mice.

Associated Plants/Fruits/Vegetables: Carnations, Oak Trees, Acorns, Oats, the Black Pine, and Thistles.

Associated Colors: Green

Other Associations: Collars, Shepherd's crook, Wool, Boar Tusks, and Leopard Skin.

Associated Deities: Unlakachi "The Wild God/ The Howling Lord", Jaramuha "The Horned God, God of the Shepherd"

Lupati (The Love Between Friends, Platonic Love)

Associated Animals/ Creatures: Wolves, Deer, Ibex, Hawks, and Taruni

Associated Plants/Fruits/Vegetables: Walnuts, Poplars, Roses, Beans, Onions, and Garlic.

Associated Colors: Yellow and Blue

Other Associations: Ships, Shields, Ladders, the Sun, Wrestling, Foot races, Amber, The Liver, The Throat, and Bow and Quiver (Not arrows)

Associated Deities: Fepaha "The Drunken God", Jalri "The Great Sun"

Seshpati (Lust, Physical Love)

Associated Animals: Giant Minks, Oysters, Peacocks, Stags, Donkeys, Goats, and Serpents

Associated Plants/Fruits/Vegetables: Asparagus, Cumin, Irises, Sycamore, Figs, Fennel, Lisjir, Cherries, Sweetgum,Pomegranates, and Lotuses

Associated Colors: Light Green and Pink

Other Associations: Honey, Spears, Perfume, Lapis Lazuli, Phalluses, Breasts, Lips, Flutes, Dancing, and Drums.

Associated Deities: Shibachi "The Pleasure Giver", Jaramuha "The Horned God"

Impati (Love of an Inanimate Object or Place)

Associated Animals: Spiders, Rodents, Dragons (Tulininya), and Corvids.

Associated Plants/Fruits/Vegetables: Chickpeas, Crocuses, Fumewart, Rosemary, Sage, Reeds, and Almonds

Associated Colors: Silver and Orange

Other Associations: Houses, Lyres, Bread, Fire, Hearths, the Oxhide ingot, Needles, Linen, Bronze, Iron, Anvils, The Arms, and "House spirits"

Associated Deities: Girmaha "God of Golden Fields", Hasunku "The God of the Flaming Stone", Kimaba "Goddess of the Oven"

Jalimpata (Greed)

Associated Animals: Hermit Crabs, Kiriki, Foxes, and Bisku

Associated Plants/Fruits/Vegetables: Saffron, Cinnamon, Peaches, Lentils, Heliotropes, Rice, and Pistachios

Associated Colors: Gold, Red, and Yellow

Other Associations: Gold, Ostrich Feathers, Frankincense, Pearls, Salt, Ivory, Silk, Apuna, The Eye, and Rakashim

Associated Deities: Ikeshpaha "The Golden God"

Ushpati (Love of Food and Drink)

Associated Animals: Pigs, Boars, Ducks, Bees, Fish, Seagulls, Frogs, Sheep, Wild Game, Snails, and Lamalaru.

Associated Plants/Fruits/Vegetables: Apples, Figs, Carrots, Beets, Mushrooms, Garlic Flowers, Parsely, Juniper, Grapes, and Violets

Associated Colors: Red, Yellow, and Purple

Other Associations: Beer, Wine, Food (Duh), Pans, Cups, Amphora, The Stomach, The Hand and Fingers, and The Mouth.

Associated Deities: Kimaba "Goddess of the Oven", Fepaha "The Drunken God", Jalchibiku "God of the Vast Waters"

Irpati (Love of Beauty, Wonder)

Associated Animals and Creatures: Spirits, Disuruku, Tigers, Falcons, Tiamawa, Parrots, Oceanic Fish, Whales, Butterflies, Lizards, and Exotic Bird Species (Mostly from the east and south)

Associated Plants/Fruits/Vegetables: Hasir Flower, Cypress Tree, Apunian Lotus, Cornflowers, Palm Trees, Cedar, Regalu, Botagalu, and Ivy

Associated Colors: Blue, Orange, and Most Bright Colors

Other Associations: Magic, Ruins, Art, Marble, Gemstones, The Moon, Virginity, Clouds, Birds, Ice, Snow, Mountains, and Giants.

Associated Deities: Sonma "The Dream Giver", Silima "Goddess of the Roaring Snow", Humbalima "The Stonebreaker"

Nahulpati (Love of the Dead, Grief)

Associated Animals: Swans, Dogs, Vultures, Foxes, Jackals, Hyenas, Crows, Boruku, Crabs, and Dolphins.

Associated Plants/Fruits/Vegetables: Jasmine, Dried Flowers, Myrrh, Gladiolus, Grasses, Dandelions, and Clover

Associated Colors: White, Black, and Green

Other Associations: Burial Stones, Skeletons, The Elderly, Hills (not mountains), Singing, Mirrors, Calm Water, and Time

Associated Deities: Nahulpaha "The Judge", Shashuma "The Great Scribe"

Death

Death is a complicated topic in Kishite culture, and ultimately can be divided among its two patron deities, Nahulpaha and Dualik. I wil address the differences between each of these aspects of death and their symbolism.

Nahulpaha (Nahul= Death, Paha= Father/Dad)

An important aspect of the Kishite understanding of death, its inherent impermanence. Nothing that dies, will stay dead. All living things reincarnate; mortals, animals, plants, and even some non-living items like mountains, forests, houses, and ships. The only difference being that mortals, those who are among The Awakened, have the potential to eventually, after many mortal lives, enter the Divine Realm, something that Animals, Plants, and even Spirits, cannot do. The Cycle defines the boundary between spirit and mortal; where the former exists exclusively as a spiritual being with an indefinite and/or malleable form, the latter exists as a soul inhabiting a defined, physical body. When a mortal body dies, the soul receives judgment, a process by which they decide if they should be reborn again on the same world, or continue on to be reborn in the next, each life coming closer to divinity. if reborn on the same world, the soul will not be burdened with the memory of the rejected life; while they are reborn as a clean slate in each new mortal world, and again into the spirit realm, if they reach the realm of the gods, they regain the memories of all of their satisfactory lives and attain the capacity to all of those people at once. A life may be rejected for any number of reasons: most commonly, the soul was too young to move on in the cycle, the soul was not satisfied or happy with that life, or the soul believes they did more harm than good during that life.

There is no concept of ghosts or the undead in Kishite folklore, however it is possible for souls that reject judgment to become trapped between lives, there they may attack or threaten the souls of the dead on their journey to judgment. There are a number of rituals and ceremonies meant to counteract this threat.

It is the duty of the deity, Nahulpaha, to guide the dead soul, to help them with judgment, to act as a mediator between the different aspects of the self. While called the Judge, Nahulpaha does not actually provide a sentence. It is thought to be impossible to lie to Naholpaha, as the god knows the mind of the soul.

The god is typically depicted as a dark or cloaked figure, who carries in his hand a torch, some say that this torch is some small piece of the sun given to him by the other gods. This may lead to a false impression by outsiders that Nahulpaha is meant to be a scary or wicked figure. However in the Kishite understanding he is quite the opposite. Nahulpaha is shown as kind, he comforts the dead so that they may judge themselves without fear or anger, he guides the souls to their next life, he sings and dances to comfort the lost children, he howls to welcome the faithful hounds, he pounds the drums to invigorate the fallen soldiers, and it is he who weaves the blankets for the worn mothers. Though he is initially believed to appear in his shadowy form, it is believed that he takes the form of the soul he is addressing, thus to speak with Nahulpaha is to speak with oneself.

Though it is his duty to usher mortal souls to the Divine Realm, he is alone among the gods in that he may not enter there. This arrangement is his choice, one made when mortal souls were first created. It is not unusual for the dead to be placed in their burial stones with food and drink, not for themselves but as gifts for Nahulpaha.

Symbols

Dogs

Foxes

Crows

Cloves

Dried Flowers

Burial Stones/Cairns

Dandelions

A Torch

A Black Cloak

Mirrors

Dualik (The Destruction, The etymology of the name dates back to before the age of the Calamity, preceeding the Kishite Language by thousands of years)

Dualik (Destruction and Time) is one of the three Primordial Beings, alongside Shobiash (The River of Creation) and Shuam (Law). They are the eternal embodiment of time and of destruction, the ferryman of the Shobiash. Both Dualik and Shuam are believed to be born of the river and the primordial nothing. It is the role of Dualik to destroy the universe at its proper time, known as the Nalbani, and to subsequently usher in the birth of a new universe. Dualik has very little to do with mortals or with the events of Kobani, and is thought of as either indifferent to or ignorant of the struggles and fates of the worlds that they oversee. This does not mean that "The Destruction'' is evil, rather it is viewed as a necessary mechanism of reality, one which all beings must heed, though one that few if any will ever see face to face.

And though Dualik is seen as time, decay, and errosion, they are also responsible for rebirth and recreation on a cosmic level. Only Dualik knows when it is the proper time for the universe to be brought to its end, and when the next should be created.

Dualik is rarely referred to in myth or ritual, when they do appear they are depicted as a many armed figure atop a barge or as 3 black circles each inside of each other.

Symbols

A Ferry Boat

Three Circles

A Many Armed Figure

The Tide

The Cycle of the Moon