butter-leopard

[butter-leopard]

With chagrin, I announce…

Well.

I did it.

I well and truly lost the password for this Tumblr account.

So! Introducing, for the new year, our bright and shiny new Tumblr blog, which is exactly like this Tumblr blog. Only, you know, I remembered to save the password.

This blog will essentially remain an archive for as long as Tumblr holds onto dormant accounts. I hope you enjoy our 2023 “Wanders” project here. If you like what you see, come visit us at our current home!

https://www.tumblr.com/butter-leopard-studio

- Lep

[butter-leopard]

Wanders: Week 42

Art by Rama Thorn

Words by Nicole Hawberry

You follow the path of packed earth until it, too, comes to an end, winding to the ocean as most trails eventually do. Here is the edge of your world. Beyond this, no map has been drawn.

It is not, however, the end of your journey.

In the morning, as you repacked, you found a small bell at the bottom of your bag, one you’d almost forgotten, one that rings with a sound like raindrops on crystal.

Now, standing on the beach of grey sand, you make it sing into the salt-sharpened air.

For a moment, nothing happens but that the waves continue to breathe over the shore. Then a robed monarch rises from the sea, impossibly beautiful and more graceful than anything you’ve seen.

“Child,” they say, because for them, all living beings are children. “What would you ask of me?”

To cross the ocean, you say. To see what lies beyond.

“And what would you give me in return?”

You’ve thought long about this, and you think perhaps only the vial of golden magic—given to you by a friend—is valuable enough for a boon such as this.

The monarch, however, shakes their head when you make the offer. “Keep that,” they say. “You will need that where you go. No. I will carry you in exchange for a story. Do you have one for me?”

You do. And you think it is just long enough to span your trip across the waves, if you don’t recount it too fast. It begins with a cup of tea and a forest.

“Good. Let us call it a fair exchange then. Come. I’ll show you what lies beyond.”

And so they take you through the waves to a place very few ever travel, where tales begin and end and begin again.

(Previous)

[butter-leopard]

Wanders: Week 41

Art by Rama Thorn

Words by Nicole Hawberry

You reach the end of the paved road. Beyond this, the way continues as packed earth and stones, designed not by intention but by the tread of countless feet over many decades.

In a way, it feels like you are beginning once more, although a little wiser and weather-worn. The packed-earth path twists out of view. You aren’t sure where it leads—but you’ll soon find out.

You have vague memories of mountain peaks and conversing with the stars. In your pockets, you carry two secrets and a tiny, frozen purple flower. There’s also a bottle of blueberry syrup made by a friend.

Around a bend in the path, you find a number of cottages. A woman dressed in lace hails you from the porch of one. Savory-smelling smoke pours from the chimney above her.

“You must have traveled a long way,” she says. “You should come to dinner.”

So you do.

When you are done, she will accept nothing for payment except a silken ribbon from your pack. You recall that it was a gift to you; you also recall that it had been blue and red. Now you see it is only red.

“Oh, this will do nicely,” your hostess says, and twines it into her costume. For a moment, it coils as if in a wind, and you have the fleeting memory of billowing mist. Then it drapes along the line of her hood, and it is just a red ribbon, and the air is calm and warm with lingering smells of food.

“Stay the night,” she offers.

The guest bed is comfortable, and through the window, you can see the night sky.

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[butter-leopard]

Wanders: Week 40

Art by Rama Thorn

Words by Nicole Hawberry

And embrace mystery.

(Previous)

[butter-leopard]

Wanders: Week 39

Art by Rama Thorn

Words by Nicole Hawberry

Cast forward your brightest face.

(Previous)

[butter-leopard]

Wanders: Week 38

Art by Rama Thorn

Words by Nicole Hawberry

This is what you’ve learned: take time to prepare your coffee in the morning. Let your thoughts float wild before you step into the day. Each morning comes only once.

(Previous)

[butter-leopard]

Wanders: Week 37

Art by Rama Thorn

Words by Nicole Hawberry

Before you left them, your friends gave you one more thing for your journey: the name of an acquaintance, and directions.

You arrive at the small stone cottage described by your friends, and there you find the master of chop sticks. You tell your story and make your request.

“All right. I will teach you how to fight,” they say. “But first I will teach you how to avoid a fight, how to escape a fight, and how to cook good ramen.”

(Previous)

[butter-leopard]

Wanders: Week 36

Art by Rama Thorn

Words by Nicole Hawberry

“Why, it’s good to see you up,” says Mana one morning. They’re a good friend of your host, Energy, and visit almost every day for afternoon tea. (They seem particularly fond of warm scones with blueberry jam and clotted cream.)

“Energy said you might be leaving us soon. Before you go, let me give you a little gift.” They reach into their bag and pull out a small vial. “It’s a bit of distilled magic, in case you find yourself in another tight spot.” They give you a wink. (You feel your face heat.)

The vial is heavier than it looks, and slightly warm in your hand. The energy inside shimmers like liquid gold.

(Previous)

[butter-leopard]

Wanders: Week 35

Art by Rama Thorn

Words by Nicole Hawberry

You wake in a bed that is not your own. This is a surprise.

(The unfamiliar bed is not the surprise; it’s been months since you’ve slept in your own. No. The waking is the surprise.)

“Ah, you’re up,” says a syrupy voice. “That answers my question, then. You didn’t look very good when Life carried you in. You’ve been unconscious for quite some time; I was beginning to wonder if you ever would open your eyes. Stay there and rest. I’ll bring you food. You may have your health, but you’ll need your stamina—and you won’t be able to recover that with flashy magic.”

Your host has a way of looking down their nose at you, but there’s real kindness layered under their haughty tones. They bring you a veritable buffet in bed, the tray heaped with delicious dishes. You eat, and begin to feel your strength return to you.

(Previous)

[butter-leopard]

Wanders: Week 34

Art by Rama Thorn

Words by Nicole Hawberry

You do find it. A monster, that is. You aren’t sure it’s what you set out for, but it’s there, and it’s on your path, and this has been a long journey. You want the trip to count for something, and killing a monster will do. So you lift your weapon to vanquish it.

Instead, it vanquishes you.

It leaves you there at the bottom of a hill not far from the road, breathing your last breaths. It’s not even interested in you. It ambles away.

“Well, hello there,” says a voice. A mage kneels by your side. “You’re not looking very good, are you? Just hold on. We’ll get you patched up.”

You notice the glowing red orbs, then. Like blood. Like pomegranate seeds. Dripping from their hat and robes.

The mage smiles. “I have a little life to spare. Always nice to have enough to share.”

A drop of red magic swirls above their hand, glistening translucent in the sun. It evaporates into wisps, and you breathe them in.

“That should do you,” they say. “Next time, maybe don’t poke the big monsters, hm?”

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[butter-leopard]

Wanders: Week 33

Art by Rama Thorn

Words by Nicole Hawberry

It is a long journey.

Time stretches and shortens. Yesterday, it seemed you'd only just set out; today, you realize whole seasons have gone by.

“You can’t pin it down,” says a damsel you meet. She’s in distress, but not the usual sort. “You can’t hold onto it.”

She lifts a hand to her tears, and her butterflies startle into flight. They flutter away.

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[butter-leopard]

Wanders: Week 32

Art by Rama Thorn

Words by Nicole Hawberry

(For, above all, you must find the princess.)

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[butter-leopard]

Wanders: Week 31

Art by Rama Thorn

Words by Nicole Hawberry

(Occasionally, you may come across a seemingly ordinary fellow traveler who, after commenting on the weather or offering to sell you bananas, will burst into costume and accost you. If this should occur, and if your hearts are low, do not hesitate to run. Run as fast as you can.)

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[butter-leopard]

Wanders: Week 30

Art by Rama Thorn

Words by Nicole Hawberry

But you might not be familiar with the ice damsel, who shelters the cold and quiet heart of winter through the hottest days.

She has been forgotten.

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[butter-leopard]

Wanders: Week 29

Art by Rama Thorn

Words by Nicole Hawberry

You’ve heard stories of the sun maiden. She holds the heart of the sun safe in her care in the coldest months—nurturing the flame with the warmth of her breath and the sparks she rubs between her palms—until the time she can release it into the heavens.

Some say the sun is the soul of the woman she loved, ignited when their dancing feet struck the earth like flint. Some say it is her own heart.

Perhaps these things are both true.

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[butter-leopard]

Wanders: Week 28

Art by Rama Thorn

Words by Nicole Hawberry

Surreal, how fast time moves. It’s like summer never happened.

To either side of the road, the fields shine golden as far as the eye can see. Folk wade through them with their sickles and scythes, gleaning the last of the grain. They invite you to join them in town for the Festival of Gourds, but you are restless. You feel like you’ve lost time, and you’re looking for something. Something big and important. An answer to a question you don’t know.

You feel like you might have had the answer once, but now it’s gone.

Perhaps it’s time to search again.

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[butter-leopard]

Wanders: Week 27

Art by Rama Thorn

Words by Nicole Hawberry

Down the road, you indeed find the minstrel. He hails you cheerily.

“Why, it’s the first of autumn,” he says when you ask, and begins to sing for you about the changing of the seasons.

But this can’t be right. It was only just midsumor.

Oblivious to your disquiet, the minstrel plays and plays, beautiful voice lifting over the plucked melody. The feathers of his costume bob. He plays until you relax and it’s easy to set aside your worry.

You go through your bag and find it has been packed with delicious food and a tiny purple flower as cold as snow. Though you aren’t sure where the bounty came from, you share it with the minstrel.

You save the little flower, however. It reminds you of a star.

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