#Pigeon Grove

[tarotvisafiable]

Vidente en Cocoa

#ACUARIO: Vigilar tu salud es algo prioritario y no debes dejarlo para otro momento incluso si te da mucha pereza o incluso alguna clase de temor. No es lógico, así que no caigas en ese error, no temas nada porque todo está en su sitio.

Tarot Y Videncia:

Llámanos Ahora

🇺🇸 Estados Unidos: +1 21 37 84 79 82

Para resolver los problemas del corazón y entregarnos a la felicidad. ¡Los temas del corazón son tan complejos! Cuando el amor no ha tocado a la puerta nos sentimos ansiosos por encontrar a la paraje ideal y una vez que la tenemos nos enfrentamos al miedo de perderla. En cualquiera de los casos no hay de qué preocuparnos porque el tarot amor nos brinda la ayuda necesaria para triunfar en una relación.

[townofcadence]

Does Artair like birds? What is his favorite kind? And if not, why?

Artair likes birds a lot!! His favorite are corvids, especially crows. He loves how playful and smart they are, and seeing them roll around in snow or build tools and figure out puzzles is always something he finds amazing. He wishes there was a few murders of crows in Cadence that he could feed and befriend, honestly. He also thinks they're so pretty with their iridescent feathers, but really most any bird he has a soft spot for xD

[libraford]

Okay so here's what's going on with the bird crimes.

On thursday I was going to Powers Park when I saw what I thought were 2 chickens hanging out in the parking lot, and a lady watching them from the fence. I thought... they could belong to the lady, but chickens aren't the kind of pet that you just let hang out loose.

I approach.

Lady: "These aren't mine."

I look closer. Its actually 2 roosters, one of which is a very small breed and is missing his tail feathers. Both of them have an injury to their backside- like its been plucked.

So we talk about what to do, I end up calling Animal Control. The actual Animal Control officer doesn't get there until noon, I get a police dispatcher. She says she can send one of the cops to grab them until the actual professional gets there.

I tell her that the roosters are being kept by the woman I met, she's coaxing them into her house.

I post about it on the facebook group in case someone knows who they belong to. The comments are full of jokes, obviously. But no leads. Eventually the big rooster gets caught by someone running a sanctuary for abandoned and abused livestock, but they're still looking for the little black one. Evidently they got out of the lady's backyard and were loose again.

I figure he's going to be a coyote snack and don't think about it for the rest of the week.

So now it is Sunday and I'm opening up the bathrooms. I'm at Summit Grove park and as I'm about to reserve the shelter for a birthday party I see...

A black pigeon.

Pigeons are not a common animal in this area- you're more likely to see house sparrows, crows, and mourning doves. So that's odd. What's more, she doesn't seem to be skittish and is definitely accustomed to humans. And she keeps trying to bite my fingers, so she associates hands with food and she's skinny as a rail so she's been abandoned for a minute.

Why does this keep happening to me? Is this the Morrigan come to teach me a lesson in pigeon form?

So I remember the number of the woman running the sanctuary and I give her a call. I tell her I've got a pigeon here that can't fly, is super hungry, and doesn't seem to have any issues biting fingers. She says she can't take her, but she can find a home for her because pigeons have specific needs. But she won't be able to get there until 12:30. We (my work partner and I) have to deal with the bird in the meantime.

We absolutely cannot take this bird with us on our route because we are in a tiny truck cab and don't have a cat carrier to put her in. So our solution is to lock her in the janitor's closet until the rep can get here.

Around 12:15, we head back to the shelter to make sure she's still there and hasn't been disturbed... and I realize that the reason I even saw her in the first place...

...was because there was supposed to be a birthday party at the shelter at noon.

The party is strongly underway and they have shoved a table against the door of the closet.

The sanctuary lady comes by and waves, we ask the party people politely to move the table slightly because we're trying to rehome a pigeon that's inside that closet.

They move the table, but not all guests see this interaction- because it looks like a bunch of maintenance people are just here to boss folks around during a little girl's birthday party and this draws a crowd.

The sanctuary rep arrives and we open the door just a little bit to let the bird out. She bobbles towards us, hoping for food, when one of the older ladies at the party exclaims:

"Does that ANIMAL just LIVE in there?!"

I mean... sure. For the past few hours, she did live in there.

"Do you have any IDEA how many DISEASES pigeons carry?"

The rep scoops the pigeon into her arms and takes her out of the shelter area to inspect her wings, feet, and back. She shows us her breastbone and explains that its been several days since the bird ate anything, which was why it was going for fingers.

Meanwhile, Aunt Ornithophobia over here: "I can't BELIEVE you would just TOUCH a BIRD like that in front of CHILDREN!"

We take the bird away to the van so the rep can thank us and explain what likely happened- which is that someone abandoned the bird when they couldn't take care of her anymore they just let her loose.

"I understand you got one of the roosters," I said.

"Yes, the big one. But the little bantam rooster is very fast- he darted into someone's backyard and I never found him again. If you see him, give me a call."

"I've been told that chickens are legal to own here, but roosters are not."

She gets an exasperated look on her face. "If you're going to allow backyard chickens, you're going to have to allow roosters. It's impossible to sex an avian chick and they don't get their dimorphic traits until they've reached the young adult stage and chick sellers don't care about whether they're a hen or a rooster. They care about the sale. We get roosters more often than egg-layers because someone sold them a male as a female and they don't want to pay the fine. I'd rather have the laws allow both, or neither. But disallowing roosters is patently stupid."

"Hm. Well. Note to self."

"Anyways, you're heroes to this little rock dove and I want you two to know that. She's going on a trip to a bird sanctuary in Toledo where she'll have lots and lots of snacks to eat that aren't fingers."

[themotherofhorses]

Handmaid!reader and Aemond having a picnic with Vhagar in the background and playing with their children.

pairing: aemond targaryen x handmaid!reader

notes: dad!aemond makes my ovaries hurt so fucking much.

his handmaid's tales | main masterlist

The morning of their planned family picnic dawned bright and sunny, with only a few puffy white clouds scattered across the sky. Such a perfect summer day, and his twin boys were beyond excited, nothing more than a pair of pups bouncing and wagging and yapping at their sire’s feet. Large, twinkling violet eyes and small pouts they gave him, and he could not say no to them.

So Aemond called for a royal cook to pack them a lunch before telling his sweet girl to dress comfortable, in one of the pretty and thin dresses he had tailored for outside events.

At midday, they settle outside King’s Landing, along the Blackwater Rush, tucked within a flowered grove with cool green grass and shade. The currents are wicked and treacherous, they warn their children. Do not venture too close, lest you be drowned in the waters.

But the boys are too taken with Vhagar, who slumbers behind them, to care the slightest about the river.

His handmaid sits beside him, upon the thick fleeced blanket, nursing their new daughter at her breast. Her back is to their sons, but Aemond has a feeling she’s aware of their every move around his dragon. Mother’s instincts. But gods, she’s so pretty in the sunlight, he thinks, with her arms filled with his own, and he’s stricken with lovesickness once again.

“Sweet, isn’t it?” Aemond asks.  

She lifts her head to look at him. “Hm?” Her voice is soft, airy and calm. “What is sweet?”

He gestures around them, to their woven picnic basket and the great rushing river, and their children and the beauties of the land. Scattered about the blanket is half a suckling pig and buttered turnips and a piping nutty bread loaf, as well as a pigeon pie, at the request of their twins. “Everything in this very moment.” He lifts his chalice to his lips, taking a quick sip of his mead.

“It is peaceful, quiet, and just our family- the way it should be. We ought to do this more. There is no need to worry about bloodshed and wagging tongues and wandering eyes. It’s just us.”

We’re husband and wife, he wants to add, but instead remains silent.

The elm, the alder, and the black cottonwood see us as nothing more, and nothing less.  

She smiles. “Yes, my prince,” she agrees, before glancing back down, to stroke their daughter’s browbone with her thumb, and coo at the little noises. Alysanne, they named her, after her own grandmother and the Good Queen Alysanne. She had been born during the early springtime, while a thunderstorm raged outside, and her father wept tears of joy inside. She has her mother’s features, to his delight.  

“Ah, well, it seems you were quite hungry, my little one,” she tells the babe, giggling.

“She’s a dragon, my love. Perhaps she wishes to grow as big and strong as Vhagar.”

“Maybe.”

Aemond snags two pieces of the bread and hands her one, before plopping the other in his mouth. It’s still warm on his tongue, and he can taste the sweet walnuts and hazelnuts, and the pumpkin and oat seeds.

It’s then that one of their boys- the youngest of the two, Aenar, creeps behind his father, before flinging his arms around his neck. “Hello, father,” he whispers, nuzzling his plump face against Aemond’s cheek. Aemion slides next to his mother, kissing her on the cheek. Both boys are red-cheeked and bubbling with breathless laughter, clutching their tiny wooden stick swords in their hands.

Their mother clicks her tongue. “Are you thirsty?” she asks, reaching for the water jug. “And look at you! All sweaty and soiled, what shall we ever do with the both of you?” Aemond takes the little Alysanne from her arms as she tends to the boys, washing the sweat and dirt from them with a cool, damp cloth. But she’s laughing too, and it soon makes him laugh as well.

Aemond leans in, sniffing Aenar. “You smell more dragon than human now. Should your mother and I be worried you’ll sprout wings tonight?”  

“Vhagar allowed for us to climb her legs!” Aenar exclaims, wiping his fingers on his tunic, then chewing on a piece of meat he stole from his father’s plate. Aemion nods from where he’s seated in his mother’s lap, nestled against her chest.  

“We felt like you, father! Big and strong and ready to claim a dragon of our own!”

Aemond smiles, and his handmaid giggles, and he reaches out to hold her hand in his. As their sons keep recounting their previous enjoyment with Vhagar, their fingers twine together as husband and wife.

tag list for "his handmaid's tales": @aemondsblog @dc-marvel-girl96 @neobanguniverse @missalycat21 @enchantingcupcakecollectionfan @padfooteyes @alexizodd @avidreader73 @the-common-cowgirl @inlovewithhisblueeyes @elegantsplendour @katzarantos @fan-goddess

[gemshroud]

Weirdly specific things Entreri would Approve or Disapprove of if he was a BG3 companion

APPROVE:

Taking the ring from Mattis and just walking away

Baa-ing at the red caps (ha ha idiots)

Saving Arabella by talking down the snake rather than Kahga (color him impressed, you saved the girl without stirring the pot)

Giving the Noblestalk to Derryth (maybe wife beaters should die)

Rejecting Raphael at every turn but especially rudely

Every "kill yourself" boss option in Act 2

Making someone other than him go onto the clown stage (ha ha idiot)

Supporting Mol's business ventures

Biting Crusher's toe off (he's kind of a freak sometimes, I'm sorry)

Taking Gortash's offer

Freeing Wyll from his contract (it's not like I secretly like that guy or anything, I hate heroes, stop looking at my boner when he fights)

Extorting the chest from Rugan then killing him later to stay on the Zhent's good side

Letting Lae'zel just do whatever murderhobo thing she wants tbh

DISAPPROVE:

Drawing the mustache on Vlaakith (you're gonna get us killed in this base full of githyanki for your fucking whimsy)

Convincing Rolan to stay in the Grove (1. not our business 2. all your preaching is gonna do is just get these guys killed too, is that really what you wanted?)

Siding with Minthara against the Grove, though he won't leave the party neccesarily

Giving the Noblestalk to Baelen (maybe wife beaters should die!!)

Telling Tara to stop eating pigeons (this noble creature is living life to its fullest)

Making him go up on the clown stage, he will be unspeakably livid

Sparing the goblins Ketheric tells you to kill (idiot did you even see that man, do you even know where we are right now)

Letting Wyll kill Karlach (a real professional knows a bullshit job when they see one, hero)

Drinking Jaheira's truth serum spiked wine (you're embarrassing me in front of an actually savvy person, why are you always like this, Tav)

Getting whipped by Abdirak (he is kinkshaming you)

Fucking the Emperor (he's kinkshaming you again but also are you an idiot, that man is using us)

Fucking Mizora (I resent Wyll as much as I do any self-proclaimed hero, but he trusted you)

(General note from Entreri: STOP HAVING SEX AT CAMP)

Petting Scratch (he is joyless, get a move on)

Paying to free the artist (you're embarrassing me in front of the other criminals)

Talking to Naaber, just at all

Asking the drow sex worker to roleplay as Drizzt Do'Urden (Entreri isn't there, he just senses he should hate you for some reason)

THINGS HE'S INTERESTINGLY NEUTRAL ON:

In theory letting Gale blow up the Netherbrain would make the most sense but... I hate gods.

He is alarmingly unfazed by you licking the spider.

[arthistoryanimalia]

Today is #AudubonDay, commemorating pioneering naturalist and artist John James Audubon who was born #OTD (26 April 1785 - 27 January 1851). I put together this overview of the 5 now extinct and 3 other possibly extinct birds whose images are recorded in The Birds of America for the blog:

Plate 26: Carolina Parrot, 1827 (Carolina Parakeet, Conuropsis carolinensis) Plate 62: Passenger Pigeon, 1829 (Passenger Pigeon, Ectopistes migratorius) Plate 66: Ivory-billed Woodpecker, 1829 (Ivory-billed Woodpecker, Campephilus principalis) Plate: 185: Bachman’s Warbler, 1834 Bachman’s Warbler, Vermivora bachmanii) Plate 186: Pinnated Grous, 1834 (Heath Hen, Tympanuchus cupido cupido) Plate 208: Esquimaux Curlew, 1834 (Eskimo Curlew, Numenius borealis) Plate 332: Pied Duck, 1836 (Labrador Duck, Camptorhynchus labradorius) Plate 341: Great Auk, 1836 (Great Auk, Pinguinus impennis)

All plate images courtesy of the John James Audubon Center at Mill Grove, Montgomery County Audubon Collection, and Zebra Publishing. The entire digitized collection is available for viewing and downloading here.

[ofoceansandtombsanew]

i'm just a kid (i know that's it's not fair)

cw. olnf week 2024, pre!release, pre!relationship, step 2, day 2

pairing. sparkling leaves

notes. day 2 of @olnfweek2024. i actually hard a hard time picking between these two prompts so i used a wheel generator and sick days won so here we go. who said the interpretation of 'sick' had to be in the literal sense?

I’m sick of being a kid.

When Nyla was 10, she thought life would be one big adventure when she moved to a small town in Oregon.

At 14, reality has since set there’s little action to be found in the sleepy town of Golden Grove. 

Golden Grove is fine on the best of days.

When I was a kid, I thought I’d travel to the end of the forest. Mom’s rules be damned, one day she’d go further beyond the forest she ever thought possible and find something amazing. The grand adventure never came. Common sense and the desire to avoid being grounded would win and Nyla stayed on the beaten path.

It’s not that she hates Golden Grove. Far from it. But it’s hard to appreciate the location when Tamarack isn’t in it. Or to be more precise, when Tamarack is with her parents far from it. That has Nyla rolling around her bed anxiously.

Frederick and Nichole Baumann throw everything off whenever they visit.

Typically around this time, Tamarack’s cello fills the air as she practices a piece and Nyla listens cheerily from her room.

Typically around this time, they do homework together at the Baumann family dinner table.

Typically around this time, it isn’t strange if the two of them decide to head The Diner Table and share a stack of pancakes.

Maybe they’ll even feed pigeons at the park or walk through the forest they love so much behind their homes.

Instead of either of those scenarios, Tamarack is visiting her parents in Corvallis and there’s little Nyla can do about that.

“I’m sick of being a kid,” Nyla murmurs aloud even if she knows that will do little for her predicament. Allowances aren’t consistent in her house and with an education focused parent like hers, she’s too young for a job. Kids in the shows she watched always have some larger than life quest they embark on. In reality, kids her age have little to show for the emotional toils they bear.

If they were adults, Frederick and Nichole would have little impact over their lives.

If they were adults, no one would be in control of where they lived or where they went.

All of those decisions would be entirely up to the two of them.

Until then, Nyla O. and Tamarack Baumann’s lives are completely up to the whims of their parents. It’s just an overnight visit though, Tamarack’ll be back tomorrow. At least she’s supposed to; there’s nothing stopping her parents from deciding that visit becomes permanent.

.

“How was big city living?” Nyla asks with a lazy smile from her side of the booth. It’s the next day and Tamarack has returned from limbo and they are celebrating with breakfast dinner at the Diner Table.

“It was okay,” despite how her eyebrows knit, Tamarack’s lips quirk into a small smile. “Mom said that if your mom’s okay with it, you can come with us next time.”

“Trying to get us used to those long distance sleepovers already, huh?” Nyla replies wryly. She regrets her comment immediately when Tamarack’s smile falls and her shoulders sag. “It was just a joke,” it wasn’t. “It’ll be fun hanging out with your parents. I’ll actually get to know them.”

Frederick and Nichole Baumann are anxiety-inducing anomalies in the peaceful life Nyla has built in Golden Grove. They are scholars first and foremost and that takes precedence over everything, even their own daughter to a considerable extent. That picture doesn’t leave much for a positive interpretation of their character even if their actions led to Nyla meeting their daughter in the first place. 

Frederick gave Tamarack her eyes, Nichole gave Tamarack her beauty.

Both of them have pieces of Tamarack you can pick out but none of those pieces come with the warm familiarity Tamarack offers.

“What if we run away?” Tamarack blinks in surprise at your sudden suggestion and you repeat yourself. “Let’s run away together. No parents, no Corvallis, just the two of us.” In this old booth in the furthest corner of The Diner Table, it’s easy to pretend you’re grownups living your adult lives.

Yusuf is busy chatting it up with a trucker passing through the town.

A couple of vaguely familiar faces from Riverview rowdily discuss the most recent episode of Glee.

A trio of aunties dressed in faux fur coats and silver rings on their fingers enjoy their steak dinners and wine.

Who’s to say Nyla and Tamarack aren’t two women enjoying their time together before they hop into their car and drive to their shared home? 

They’ll own their two cats and Nyla will feed them dinner while Tamarack practices her cello one last time for the night. Then they’ll go to bed in the same house and in the same bed, not having to worry about whether or not Tamarack will be taken away. The idea warms Nyla’s chest even if reality dictates neither of them have cars, nor do they know how to drive. “We take off and get our own place.”

“No one’s going to rent out to kids,” Tamarack tells you pointedly but the smile on her face is genuine and she seems lighter.

“We’ll just live like Snufkin then,” Nyla raises her eyebrows playfully and Tamarack giggles at the display. It sounds like music. “We’ve already got the forest. We might as well start acting like we live in Moominvalley. I’ll build us a house and everything.”

“How are we gonna make money?” Tamarack asks incredulously.

We’ll live in a cabin in the woods, how much money could we need? They could grow a garden and rely on that for everything we need. Knowing some money would be helpful for the few times they would go into town, however, Nyla is quick to offer a solution, “you can play music.” Tamarack’s a genius at the cello, there’s no way she wouldn’t make money performing. “And we both know I’m gonna be a super rich novelist, we’re probably gonna move into a house before we know it after my first book deal.”

“You’re crazy,” Tamarack’s shoulders shake in her amusement and she’s grinning widely. When she smiles like that, Tamarack feels more like her 10 year old self. The version of herself that had all of the world’s confidence in one body. There are many times you wish the people of Golden Grove could see it but you can’t deny feeling special it is something reserved for you. 

Tamarack Baumann is special, she always has been.

It doesn’t matter if she’s a wild child throwing paper airplanes at strangers or the shy but determined teenager she’s grown into.

“Crazy about you,” Nyla agrees easily.

Rosy pink dusts Tamarack’s cheek at the admission, red eyes darting away in flustered satisfaction. Or maybe that’s what Nyla hopes from the way Tamarack’s lips curl into a small smile and her fingers fiddle with her napkin. A beat later, it’s Nyla’s turn to nearly jump out her skin as she feels Tamarack’s leg brush against hers under the table.

It’s rare Tamarack is this forward, not the way she used to be. Before teenage insecurities and anxieties settled in along with the impermanence of her placement in Golden Grove. Nyla likes Tamarack, Tamarack likes her. At least, moments like these tell Nyla Tamarack likes her just like how she liked Nyla when they were 10. It’s a fine line neither of them are quite ready to cross yet, but for now it’s fine.

“It’ll be fine, we'd work it out somehow,” Nyla ignores the heat of her face in favor of bravado and moves both her legs forward to twine around her best friend’s. “Just trust me,” she jabs her fork into their shared pancake stack. “My ideas are only bad 30% of the time.”

Tamarack’s cheeks are a deeper red. “Yeah,” she nods, dreamy and wistful. “Only 30%.”

[mysticstarlightduck]

Extra 2.0 OC Favorites!

Let's go with Erin Niemand and Indigo "Indie" Lauriel, from What Lurks In The Hollow!

Erin Niemand

Color: Forest Green

Season: Winter

Shoe Choice: Knee-high suede boots

Weapon: Box cutter

Food: Potato and sausage chowder

Drink: Blackberry juice

Style: Dark grey band T-shirts, green flannel long-sleeved shirts (button up), black denim pants

Mode of Transportation: Walking

Animal: Dogs, especially pit bulls (she has one named Cooper)

Pastime: Walking around on the wood trails around Vinethorn Grove and hiking

Breakfast: Sugar-coated cinnamon rolls with latte

Personality: Loner, very introverted.

Songs:

Mockingbird - Enisa

Forgotten - Avril Lavigne

Who's Afraid Of Little Old Me - Taylor Swift

Leave Me Alone - Adam Jensen

City Grown Willow - Jensen Ackles

Indigo "Indie" Lauriel

Color: Mustard Yellow

Seasons: All of Them!!!!

Shoe Choice: Boho leather slippers/sandals with stripped knee high socks, especially in earthy tones

Weapon: Custom taser that she DIY-customized with dollar store rhinestones and glitter

Food: Her Ma's Lasagna

Drink: Detox Smoothies

Style: Hipster chic styles, usually in fall tones, with her signature denim jumper, which she also customized with cloth patches and always a cardigan

Mode of Transportation: Vintage Scooter

Animal: PIGEONS AND SPARROWS

Hobby: Watching conspiracy theory Youtube, reading about niche topics and doing her own conspiracy theory research, especially about UFOs, ghosts/hauntings and cryptids.

Breakfast: Chocolate Cereal with Milk

Personality: Layback Extrovert

Songs:

Little Talks - Of Monsters & Men

Seven Devils - Florence & The Machine

Riptide -Vance Joy

Ho Hey - The Lumineer

X Games - Au/Ra

Tagging (gently): @sleepy-night-child, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @smol-feralgremlin, @wyked-ao3, @topazadine @littleladymab,

@winterandwords, @eccaiia, @sarahlizziewrites, @illarian-rambling

@agirlandherquill, @anoelleart, @ray-writes-n-shit

@writernopal, @anyablackwood, @unstablewifiaccess, @forthesanityofstorytellers

@i-can-even-burn-salad, @cakeinthevoid @thecomfywriter

@thepeculiarbird, @clairelsonao3, @memento-morri-writes, @starlit-hopes-and-dreams @amaiguri

@cherrychiplip @thecomfywriter @thelovelymachinery

@differentnighttale, @leahnardo-da-veggie

[drakeanddice]

Mausritter this week was light on adventuresome hijinks, truth be told. The Waywatchers have been away from their home in Fox Cross for a full week (rigorous timekeeping being a key pillar of Old School play, y’know) and the dangers and treasures of the world had them bending their feet back to their beginnings.

Dragging all the treasure their little mouse backs could carry, they spent the first hour of game night hiking from the southern extremity of The Patch to the very north, reminiscing about the things they missed most about home. Birch, being not just Team Dad but a consummate family mouse, told stories about his wife and nine children. Fennel reminisced about Grampus, the de facto lynchpin of Fox Cross’ Guild of Messengers, a gruff and vaguely put-upon iconoclast of the Patch’s erstwhile postal system. Bindi, thinking always with her stomach, wondered about the first marzipan of the season (made by Marni, Birch’s wife in their family shop) and how Chester, the retired sewer-guide who runs the Waystone Tavern was getting on.

And they all were excited to get their weekly stipend from Horatio, the town Aldermouse. Granted they were carrying more treasure than they could strictly carry, but it would be nice to have some pips in their pocket that they hadn’t had to drag out of the danger and darkness of the world beyond Fox Cross’ walls. Plus, they had plans for the spoils of their adventuring, already.

Mausritter leans into the old adventure game mechanic of treasure being experience; 1 Pip (the coin of the realm) equals 1 XP. But it does a neat thing where every 10 Pips invested in a community or spent charitably grants an additional XP. This cleverly encourages the PCs to—if you’ll excuse the terrible pun—buy in to the characters and factions that exist back in civilization, far away from the dangerous wilds. And so, financing improvements and business expansions and defenses and helping to fund the further goals of their communities is a way to advance their characters and overall shape the ongoing narrative of the world.

That’s good tech.

Anyhow, this episode was all about building a supporting cast that the players are excited to come and check in on again and again. So, Birch’s enormous family got screen time. Grampus the angry retired mail mouse got some screen time. Chester the anvuncular innkeeper got some screen time. Horatio, the harried bureaucrat Aldermouse got a little screen time.

But we also got:

-Thorne, the warhawk of a smith who was in the Regiments lo those many years ago and thinks that direct action against the problems brewing in the south is the only way to get things sorted, damned be the costs.

-Sweetgum, the local representative of the Dairybell Company who believes anything can be solved with careful application of Pips. Also, as long as problems are far away, they aren’t her problems.

-Berthold, the head of the Almondiers, the mice who tend the almond grove just north of town on the edge of the spooky Estate. He’s made of ghost stories and local legends.

-Lucretia, a caravan leader built more like a hamster than a mouse. She wears an enormous ruff and travels with a small band of adventurer mercenary-mice. She desperately wants to add the Waywatchers to her retinue.

-The Papas, five unconvincingly-disguised least weasels who run the Foxcross Ferry. They sneak in a low-country brogue and hide themselves under oilskin cloaks and nor’easters, but the fact that they were once part of a gang and are in hiding until they deem it safe to retrieve their ill-gotten gold is an open secret. One is on duty at all times. The others are engaged in a game of cards that has been going on for years. They are Tall Papa, Kind Papa, One-Eye Papa, Split Papa, and Wet Papa.

All in all, a cozy session with a goldmine of characterization and hinting at plots that could be coming down the pipeline. Next week, we’re taking the first pigeon out of town and back down to Swamp Farm to consult with the Speaker-for-Ghosts. Hopefully we’ll meet Tam down there and we’ll be back to adventure.

Sometimes a breather and a little bit of downtime is exactly what you need to get the pot back to boiling.

[slusheeduck]

Fictober 2023 Day 9 - Prompt: "I may not get another chance to say this." Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3

This was…presumptuous, at best. Nosy, at worst. And honestly, entirely not within his right, considering the current time frame. But damn it all, if this tadpole in his head didn’t take him out first, the orb in his chest would, so there really was no time like the present for Gale to do this, because there may not be much more of that left.

So, a few minutes after hearing Astarion’s drawled out, “Hello, beautiful,” and about thirty seconds after seeing Falerin walk away to go chat with Karlach, he took a deep breath, then made his way to Astarion’s tent.

“Could we…chat, Astarion?” he asked slowly, hands clasped behind his back. Astarion glanced back at him over his shoulder, eyebrows raising.

“I would ask if you were going to show me a bit of magic, but it sounds more like I’m about to get a lecture,” he said, corner of his lip quirking up in amusement. “But I suppose we could.”

Gale glanced about. “Let’s…walk. Less chance of being overheard.”

“Oh, now I’m very interested.”

Gale rolled his eyes. “Don’t get so excited. It’s bad enough with the tadpoles, but everyone here’s an eavesdropper, too.”

“Speaking from experience?” The knowing smile Astarion sent his way made Gale wince, and suddenly he was second-guessing this whole affair. It was none of his business. But it was. But it wasn’t. But…

“Look, I may not get another chance to say this,” he said quickly, pushing through the doubts. “There’s…yes, we saved the Grove and that was worth celebrating, but it’s far from the end of the road for us. And if things do get more difficult, then I want to say…”

Astarion’s eyes widened, and he paused by the shoreline. “Oh my. Is this a confession, Gale?” he asked, a cruel little smile already spreading across his face as he fanned himself. “Oh, this is all so sudden!”

“Will you stop it?” Gale snapped. “It’s about Falerin.”

That caused a shift in Astarion’s face. His hand delicately rested against his mouth, eyes narrowing. “What about Falerin?”

Gale hesitated, eyes darting between Astarion and the dying dusk over the water. “You look at him like you’re going to eat him alive.”

“Well, I mean…”

“Not in terms of your unusual diet.” Gale let out a long sigh, hand scrubbing at his face. “This is presumptuous of me, I know. We’ve both known him the same amount of time, give or take fifteen minutes, and as far as stressors go, this one should be much lower on the list. But he’s my friend, Astarion. Probably the best I’ve had since Mystra…” He sighed, dragging his hand down his face. “The point is, I’m worried you’re toying with him like…like my cat does a pigeon she’s about to tear to pieces.”

Astarion, who had stayed remarkably quiet, suddenly scoffed. “Darling, who do you think I am?”

Gale grimaced. “Please. I know he cares about you—it’s practically bursting out of every pore in his face. And I’m…I’m not trying to intimidate or scare you off, I swear. I just…some assurance, please, that you’re not going to hurt him.”

Astarion’s face had shifted into something unreadable—not scathing, not mocking, not sneaking. His gaze flitted over Gale’s face, searching for a lie.

“I’m not planning to hurt him,” he said, voice soft. “I can’t promise I won’t; I know the kind of person I am. But…I won’t toy with him.”

Gale should have been embarrassed with the obvious sigh of relief he let out, but he really wasn’t. He dropped down on a nearby rock, shaking his head. “I really should have gotten out more before this. I’ve forgotten how difficult talks like this are.” He let out another breath, then looked up at Astarion. “I haven’t been as kind to you as I should have, but I’d like to be in the future. I’d like to think that Fal would be upset if either of us left camp due to a spat.” He waved his hand. “So, any time you’d like to talk, feel free. Or…don’t. Ball is entirely in your court.”

Astarion’s mouth twitched up. “Oh, how very generous of you.” He paused for a moment, looking out at the water, then—very slowly, like he was approaching some dangerous creature—he sat down on the fallen log beside Gale. “So you…have a cat?”

Gale’s brow furrowed as he looked over at him. “Well, technically she’s a tressym, but yes.” He gave a wry smile. “Stereotypical, I know—lonely wizard in his tower with just his cat for company. Feel free to tease me about it; Tara certainly does.”

“No, no, I…” Astarion glanced over at him. “I’ve always been fond of cats. See a lot of myself in them, I suppose. Obviously having one’s always been out of the question, but…” He shrugged. “Maybe you could tell me about yours.”

Gale looked Astarion over, unable to stop the way his mouth pulled up. He knew a peace offering when he saw one. “I would be more than happy to.”

Fictober 2023 Drabble Master Post

[tadpolejourney]

Days 11-12

I was so sick last night, I couldn't write. I'll have to put my work on Act V aside to catch up on yesterday and today.

Yesterday was such a crazy ass fucking day. I must emphasize that I have been having some very strange and crazy days lately, and this was the most insane day yet.

Let's start with first thing yesterday morning. I can't say I didn't see this coming with all the flirting we've been doing. Astarion propositioned me for sex. He's not at all interested in a real relationship. I reminded him our relationship isn't transactional and he didn't need to repay the favor of my blood for sex. He talked about how I 'obviously' wanted him because I was quivering when he bit me. More like he's been the obvious one, and I shook because it hurt like hell and it was taking everything I had not to cry out, but I let him protect his ego to cushion the rejection. When I turned him down, he told me I was no fun, but he doesn't seem to have any hard feelings about it. I can't just have sex with whoever, whenever. I've never had the luxury of being able to just 'let go' and have sex only for the fun of it with anyone who I felt attracted to. That has always felt unsafe to me, and probably always will. Truthfully, if I could I would have said yes to him. I had no other reason to say no.

We got Karlach an engine upgrade today. I'm glad we met the blacksmith Dammon and he's able and willing to help. Also, those two have some real chemistry. I wonder if either or both of them realize it.

Gale needed another magical item today. This time he said it wasn't working to quell his hunger like before. He seemed frightened.

We made it to the goblin camp. I really try not to be racist but goblins are fucking stupid, disgusting, and barbaric.

It looks like the mother owlbear in the cave didn't make it. I found her cub taken captive at the camp and bargained with a goblin woman to set him free. I hope he can find our camp.

Volothamp Geddarm, of all people, was imprisoned by a goblin woman who called him her 'pigeon'. I watched him floundering to come up with a verse in front of an audience of drunk goblins. I spoke with him in camp tonight, and he had 0 interesting things to say and kept constantly talking over me. A classic mansplainer. Never meet your heroes. Not that he is really my hero. His music really isn't my style, and I don't tend to read fairy tales either. He's more like someone I'm obligated to know about in my profession. Still, color me unimpressed.

We found Halsin at the goblin camp, alive and imprisoned. We helped free him and kill his captors. He knew immediately that I was infected, and that my infection was atypical. He's just as good of a healer as the druids claimed. But he can't cure us either. He does, however, know where to find our cure. Moonrise Towers. He asked us to kill the leaders of the goblin camp to protect his grove. Of course we're doing it. Also, why does every ally I make have to be so hot? IT'S VERY DISTRACTING. If I could find allies that are just average looking or even ugly, or like geriatric, or married, that would be fantastic. I hope Halsin is married. Or who knows, maybe we'll hit it off and I can forget about the dude I really like who I've definitely been hitting on that just fucking ignores me anyway.

Shadowheart has been carrying around a strange artifact this whole time. True to form she was very rude when I asked about it a tenday ago, so I ignored it. Until today. It made its way to me somehow while we were in the goblin camp. I finally heard the voice of this Absolute. It showed me a vision of its chosen, said I should aid in their search for a weapon. The power it wields to make us obey is unlike anything I've ever felt or experienced. The artifact protected us somehow.

I met the three leaders of the goblin camp. These 'True Soul' leaders all had parasites. They think I'm their ally because I'm infected. Minthara referred to me as 'grotesque'. She seems highly intelligent and tough as nails. Priestess Gut is a sadist branding everyone she can get her hands on, but not nearly as powerful as she claims to be. Dror Ragzlin is ambitious, and like all ambitious people, his ambition makes him a narrow-minded moron.

So that was yesterday up until being very sick last night in camp. Late last night Lae'zel snuck up behind me while I was sitting on the ground and put a dagger to my throat. She thought we were transforming, and she was ready to kill me, the others, and then herself. I felt her fear and her doubt, and it didn't take much to convince her to stand down. I wasn't positive we weren't transforming, but I also wasn't ready to die or let anyone else be killed over an assumption. We went to sleep after that.

According to a being that came to me in my dreams, I was sick last night because I really was transforming into a mindflayer. Lae'zel was right, but luckily she didn't kill me or anyone else. This guardian guy, a big, strange-looking, half elf male in fancy armor, says he made me better. Told me I needed to wield the power the parasite has granted me, that I had potential and could 'save us all'. Claimed to be my protector, and that he was fighting 'the enemy'. So purposely vague. Another day, another sales pitch. I don't know if I buy it. Perhaps some of it is true. I remain extremely skeptical.

Gale spoke to me this morning about the visitor in his dream, a supposed 'vision of unparalleled beauty and power'. I am truly annoyed that I felt so jealous upon hearing him say so. He confirmed what I'd suspected about mine. It wasn't a real person.

Everyone had the same dream, with a different guardian. Just when I thought shit could not get any weirder.

Today we attacked the goblin camp.

We went after Minthara first, as she is clearly the most dangerous and capable of the three. She was also closest to where Halsin was imprisoned and there was a scrying eye that would have made subterfuge impossible. When I struck what I'm sure everyone thought was the final blow I deliberately knocked her unconscious rather than killing her. I spared her without telling anyone. I thought about how if I did not have this weird entity or that weird box protecting me from the Absolute, I could be just like she is. I could not bring myself to kill her. I made an emotional decision, and I could definitely come to regret it later. Halsin could hate me for what I did. Minthara would likely kill me for what I did. She is Lolth-sworn drow. This would be utterly humiliating for her if she knew. Maybe she won't know though. The others didn't realize what I'd done. We stripped her while she was unconscious like we would have a corpse. I had a parasite in my bag that I nicked off Nettie's table when no one was looking, and I said it came from Minthara. Maybe her being alive can just be a 'miraculous survival'. I'm hoping the Absolute lost its influence there because of all the followers we murdered, and she can get a chance to be free. And this is yet another reason why I feel like I did something truly dumb: I'm not even sure that's how this works. I could have just condemned her to be a mindflayer and doomed many, or failed to make any change at all to her situation (which means she most certainly could get killed outright for her failure as a leader). I can only really hope for the best and live with the consequences of what I've done, whatever they may be.

I'm getting really tired of having to make all these crucial decisions that not only direct my fate, but also the fates of so many others.

When we pulled the tadpoles from Priestess Gut and Dror Ragzlin, the guardian spoke to me in my mind, encouraged me to absorb their potential. I hesitated, but he promised to protect me, so I consumed it. I don't even know where to start in describing the feeling. To put it simply: weird, cold, uncomfortable, but also good. I feel more powerful, and I'm still myself.

Astarion immediately wanted one for himself, put on a cute pouty face and everything. He's so funny. He could have just asked without the theatrics. However, of course I love the theatrics. We made a deal not long after we met that for any locks he picks on chests he can claim the contents for himself. Anything he keeps or gives away is fully at his discretion, and no one gets a say in that. I give him all the tools and kits to pick locks and disarm traps, and he takes care of that for us. That was the deal. When it comes to picking locks and spotting and disarming traps, he's the best I've ever seen. He makes it look easy. Anyway, I'm bringing this up because I noticed the last few chests he's picked locks to open, he's asked the rest of us if we can make use of some of the things he finds. Today he opened a chest with infernal iron and willingly handed it to Karlach. He could have easily stashed it away and not a one of us would have been the wiser. That metal is worth a lot of coin. He's actually becoming a team player. I'm honestly impressed, he continues to surprise me. I thought at first he would be our biggest liability, but the opposite is true. He's proven himself to be our biggest asset. Naturally, I won't tell him that.

We found the way into the heart of the Selûnite temple the goblins were using for their camp. There's a ladder leading down into a chasm, and it's impossible to see the bottom. It's safe to say we found one way into the Underdark. I think I want to keep looking, because that ladder looks so fucking shady. Could just be my thing with heights though. I fucking hate heights.

Halsin suggested we celebrate tonight, rather than get an early start tomorrow. He reassured me our infection would be unlikely to progress spontaneously. He also doesn't know all of us nearly turned just last night. I hope he's right. I thought it could be really fun to let loose a little, and celebrate what turned out to be quite a victory. Saved the grove, saved the tieflings, freed Halsin, dispersed the Absolutists from this region, AND found another potential path for our cure.

When the party began, I wanted to talk to Gale right away if I'm being honest. But I thought, “Let's make him wait until I've spoken with literally everyone else but him. Let's see if he even notices, approaches me, or says anything about it at all when I speak to him”. Decided to test him. So I've barreled right past coping with his constant subtle rejection of me to being conniving to force him to actually reject me directly. You will never hear me proclaim to be mature or graceful, especially in matters of the heart. If he paid any attention at all, he got to watch nearly every single person I talked to either flirt with me or proposition me. I honestly lost count of how many people propositioned me... someone must have put something in the damn wine. I think Halsin and I were the only people not drinking it. I took a swig of Astarion's and spit it out immediately because it was so gross. Anyway... I made Gale think I was coming towards him halfway through making my way around the party, only to let Volo take me by the arm and whisk me right past him. I caught his eye and sent him the sultriest look I could manage without it being campy. Then I made an ass of myself flirting with Halsin. I don't know if Gale even noticed any of it. He probably didn't. The stupid shit I have pulled to try to get this man to acknowledge me...

When I spoke to him, he finally, finally, fucking finally opened up to me some. He talked about how he'd been living with his condition. Until he was kidnapped, he'd been in isolation for a year, maybe more. I was the first person he'd spent any significant amount of time with. He made some self-deprecating remark about leaving his wits and sensitivity behind in his tower. It took every bit of self-control I had not to just pounce on him. Instead I blurted out an 'I like you' sort of confession. But you know, snazzier than that in the moment because hi, it's me. Gave up on the whole 'done being obvious' thing once again and went right back to being obvious.

He paused before saying, 'Wait, are you...' and then he interrupted himself. Said something about how he'd clearly had too much wine and I not enough... and then proceeded to tell me that getting excited is a bad idea for him because of his condition. 'A conversation best held back for now.'

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHGH.

Boy I will prepare a fucking dragon's hoard of magical items for you to consume continuously while we lie together if that's what it takes. I am so frustrated. I want to have this explained to me in a way that actually makes sense. He's fucking hiding something. Something huge. And until now, I was too much of a lovesick puppy to see it. I had to have it thrown in my face for me to notice.

I'm starting to feel like I'm being played. I'm pissed.

So naturally I spend the night with someone else I like. Karlach. And then I friend-zoned her. I said yes to her earlier tonight because I knew what she wanted, and I knew what I was going to do. Worse yet, she wasn't the only person I strung along last night. And why would I do that to someone who would hang the moon for me, who has only ever been kind to me, who is probably the coolest person I've ever met and will ever meet? After all, aren't I the hero goody-two-shoes people pleasing sweet lovely little doll-faced creature everyone thinks I am? I'll tell you exactly why. Because deep down, I'm a fucking asshole, and now I'm getting exactly what I deserve for it. I feel like absolute shit about tonight, and I will for a long time. Probably forever. My guilt and shame are endless.

These are the exact reasons why I always end up alone.

I know I've been emotionally circling the drain for an entire page of writing now. I need to go to bed.

<<< Day 10 | Index | Day 13 >>>

[wisconsinwarlock]

Because of the geology of the area, Orvieto has a lot of caves underneath the town, some natural, lots dug out for wine cellars and for underground olive oil presses. Also - for keeping pigeons in these pigeons holes, for food and for guano for fertilizing the vineyards and olive groves outside.

[talesandfluff]

favorite goblins in BG3:

the prisoner at the grove you can prevent from getting killed and lead back to the goblin camp, only for her to immediately ask Minthara to kill you, what a turncloak queen I adore her

Volo's bully, she knows a pigeon when she sees one, such an ear for Art™ she has

the guy who's roasting the dwarf after stealing his gorgeous pants and who has a crush on Minthara and has been secretly writing her a love letter

Priestess Gut tbh it doesn't get any better than that

Crusher because of the sheer audacity

that one prisoner in a cage for sticking true to their belief to the goblins' former god, I can appreciate a strong display of faith and sticking to your beliefs in the face of complete adversity

[sir-yeehaw-paws]

Random Caps: Yakuza 0: Part 04

More kitty cats.  You can never have too many kitty cats.

West Park when it’s still the homeless haven.

Kiryu’s one night home. (Sadly Tachibana did not join him-even though Kiryu offered)

RAIDEN. This collection of signs amused me because I’m an MGS fan.

“We have Big Boss I mean Big Bob at home.”

PIGEONS

Fountain in West Park.

This lil’ monkey on the menu in Bar Vincent.

A most excellent freeze frame of this bill.

COFFEE. A cap I took because I want this sign held over my head like one of those ‘I’ve got an idea’ light bulbs.

BEEPIN’ (Another sign cap I took because the name Beepin’ had me laughing for ten minutes).

The Bed of Styx. Glorified gladiatorial arena (I liked the panoramic shot).

Cluster of signage in Sotenbori that leaves me just a bit mesmerized. Look at how shiny.

This bridge shot I really like for some reason.

Camellia Grove. Which has a strange prettiness to it.

Benten Inn. Wonder if the locals have any clue what kind of danger lurks within? I’ve my doubts.

These very stylish Groovin’ Gramps.

This poster with two generic dudes and USA that’s near the Groovin’ Gramps.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

[ex-textura]

So you wanted a Tav infodump? Go with me on this journey. (cw: mentions of death). Sagora Crefort (pronounced Kreh - FOH) is a 36 yr old Half-elf Druid. (yes, she's young, but half-elves and humans age basically the same...half-elves just live longer. Unlike elves who basically reach maturity at 100 yrs old. And yes...Sagora has had many a tearful and sleepless night over this fact now that she's with Gale.) Totally not me basically having a very Gale, finger-pointy "but actually" moment lol Her father is Silas Crefort (half-elf,) heir to, and now sole owner and proprietor of Crefort Mercantiles in Baldur's Gate. Her mother is Flora Crefort (half-elf,) First Druid of their matriarchal family grove that sits somewhere between Baldur's Gate and the Trollbark Forest. Silas and Flora met when he was traveling for new trade partners, and products to import/export. She was in one of the nearby villages he visited, and it was love at first sight. (Though, he was far more enamored with her at first). He ended up following her back to the grove to "discuss trade negotiations with her people," (lol) but ended up just kinda staying there for a couple years. They eventually married, and had Sagora first, then her sister Zalyria a few yrs later.

They often traveled from the grove to Baldur's Gate, staying in each place for a few months at a time so the girls could become exposed to city life, and thus, feel more comfortable in a variety of environments. It wasn't until The Guild began to darken their doorstep when things really took a nasty turn though. The Guild was in the process of buying out all of the smaller merchants to gain control of the trades in the city. Crefort Mercantiles was a family business, and Silas refused to give it up. So, to scare him into surrendering, they began to target Flora, Sagora, and Zalyira. Flora and Silas then agreed that they needed to separate to keep them safe. He felt he had to stay in Baldur's Gate to keep the business going while they return to the grove and live out their days in safety. Even going so far as to never send letters back and forth because the Guild was watching the pigeons. He sent them away in the dead of night with a large sum of money to make sure they were adequately cared for, and that was that. As the girls grew up, Flora (and Silas) decided it was easier to tell them that they were no longer married. Sagora understood. Zalyria held a grudge against Silas, and refused to acknowledge him as her father. Sagora, of course, being a strong-willed young woman, snuck out of the grove one night as a teen and traveled a tenday to get to Baldur's Gate. Her father was furious, but inevitably decided to let her stay knowing she would just defy him otherwise. One day, when he was doing business in Rivington, their home was invaded, and she was brutally attacked...literally within an inch of her life. All she remembers is waking up back in the grove with her mother losing her shit at her. Sagora's experience was so traumatic that she agreed never to return to Baldur's Gate. Fast forward several years later (she's in her mid-30s by now,) she's quiet, stoic, keep people at a distance whom she doesn't know very well, but is extremely kind and caring regardless. Though, she would much rather spend her time running through the forests with the wolves. One day, a group of bandits threatened the forest just outside of their home so Flora and several of the members of the grove set out to save the animals in dangers as well as try to extinguish the flames. Sadly, it spread too quickly, and trapped Flora and five others in the blaze. Sagora would now become the next First Druid. Before she claimed her title, however, she set out for Baldur's Gate (risking not only her mental health but her very life) to tell her father in person that Flora died. On the way there, she was captured by the ilithids where we then meet her along with the other companions. During her time trying to fight off the Absolute, her and Gale fell in love. She'd never been loved by anyone as much as he loved her because she always kept people at arm's length, but something about him captivated her, and she fell HARD. Like...running into a stone wall at full speed hoping to run through it. He was the first to see the many scars on her body. The first to call her beautiful. The first to kiss them, appreciating every mark as a testament to her strong will and survival. That's when it hit her that this was not just some fling to help her sate her desires on their travels. This man worshipped her, and she kinda didn't know what to do with him except blush and kick her damn feet. When he got word from Elminster about what Mystra wanted him to do YOU BET YOUR ASS SHE WAS LIVID. So much so, that she ran off, wildshaped into an Owlbear and just started wrecking shit until she collapsed. That's when she realized how much she loved him...and how much of an idiot he would be if he listened to Mystra. Clearly, she has ZERO problem putting him in his place. They challenge each other, but ultimately, Gale respects and appreciates her wisdom. Now that they have defeated the Absolute with their friends, it's time to begin anew and live the first day of the rest of their lives together in Waterdeep. => ---

All of this is in my long fic, which I initially wrote as means to flesh out her backstory...and then it turned into a Galemance fic lol. The story is nearing its end, so we shall see what's in store for them soon ;) (definitely a wedding though, and Epilogue be damned, all our friends will be there gods damnit.)

I hope you enjoyed that though, and that it was worth the read ^^

I am here I am so ready for this journey let's go.

Sagora Crefort is such a beautiful name 😩 I'm in envy and awe of your naming abilities. It feels like poetry.

I love the boldness of her dad to see her mom and be like "this one" and then just never leave. You go get wifed, dude. I support you. (Although the forced separation and the family drama AND THEN SHE DIES APART FROM HIM?! MY HEART??!! oogh it hurts)

This poor woman has had such a hard life. She absolutely deserves to have a gorgeous wizard who worships her. (And who doesn't do stupid shit like die for forgiveness COME ON GALE)

How did she make it back to camp after her owlbear rage? Did she have to walk of shame back? Was she found? Also did she ever tell Gale about it??

Oh man I hope they have a big beautiful wedding and that it's totally stress free and that she gets everything she's ever wanted 😭

(how does she get along with Morena and Tara? I'm dying to know their vibe)

I enjoyed reading it so much!! I love all the depth and detail to her story and her strength to carry on. My heart breaks for her but I'm so happy she's found something good in Gale 🥹

[kittypets-unite-au]

Worldbuilding Tidbits: ThunderClan Territory

General description: ThunderClan calls the thick, rich forest in the southeast. Trees include alders, oaks, beechs, birchs, aspens, cedars, elms, maples, and sycamores. Undergrowth includes holly bushes, honeysuckles, laurels, dogwood, witch hazel, hemlocks, ferns, bracken, lilacs, dandelions, daffodils, wintergreens, boxwoods, peonies, thorns, vines, moss, poppies, and brambles. The canopy is fairly thick, but not so much that sunlight is blocked out, and streams that branch out from the river help moisturize the plants. Towards the thunderpath that cuts between ThunderClan and ShadowClan, the land becomes rocky and steep, as the road inclines from a mountain.

Camp: A shallow, sandy ravine that’s shaded by a thick canopy. The dens are made of cave in the camp walls, burrows, and bushes intertwined with brambles and vines

Common prey: Mice, voles, shrews, blackbirds, starlings, magpies, sparrows, robins, cardinals, bluejays, grackles, grouse, pheasants, doves, pigeons, woodpeckers

Rare prey: Turkeys, falcons, hawks, eagles, ducks, rabbits, moorhens, eggs

Common threats: Coyotes, falling branches, foxes (they usually only target lone apprentices or kits, but they become a lot more aggressive and desperate in the winter), badgers (usually only if you're stupid enough to bother them, but they also like to go after lone or inexperienced apprentices), adders at snakerocks, wild dogs

Landmarks:

The Owl Tree is a tall poplar with a hollow in the middle of the trunk. Generations of owls have lived there as it’s close to mouse nests, and warriors usually follow the current tenant to find easy prey.

The Sandy Hollow is a hollow in the land that’s filled with soft, sandy dirt. It’s used as a place for apprentices to practice battle moves since the dirt is soft enough to not hurt upon impacting it

The Tunnel is a tunnel below the thunderpath that ShadowClan uses to get to and from gatherings. ThunderClan doesn’t mind this as long as they just use the tunnel for that purpose, but there is some hostility over the herb that grows there, Milkweed. Since it’s rare to find and is very beneficial for nursing queens, there’s been quite a few border scraps over who gets the herbs

The Shaded Brook is a narrow stream that branches off from the river. It gains its name due to the amount of overhanging, ferns, bracken, and mullien growing here. Cats come to get a drink of water and druids come here to gather herbs.

Sunningrocks is a contested piece of territory between ThunderClan and RiverClan that’s placed right by the river on the edge of ThunderClan territory. It’s not only a good place to sun, but it’s a good place for mice and water voles to nest between the rocks, making it a good hunting spot. However, the main reason it’s so fought over is because of land rights.The patch of land that Sunningrocks rests on used to belong to RiverClan when it was an island, but slowly the river grew smaller, leaving the rocks on ThunderClan’s territory. And they’ve bickered and battled over it since

Adjacent to Sunningrocks are wide expanses of meadows. They don't have an official name, but they're a popular date spot due to the sheer amount of colorful wildflowers and the clear view of the sky

The Alder Grove a patch of the forest filled with, you guessed it, alders. The thick canopy provides plentiful shade and the leaf litter is very soft. Friend groups like to hang around here and it's not uncommon to see cats wrestling in the thick leaf carpet

Tallpines is the only place in the forest where pine trees are plentiful. Every three summers the tree-eaters cut down the trees and take them to the treecutplace, but between those periods, it’s a good spot for prey.

The Treecutplace is where the pines from Tallpines are brought to be cut up for twoleg use. It’s usually avoided due to being so close to twoleg areas

The Twolegplace is a small yet bustling town. Warriors rarely go anywhere near the border, let alone in the town. The town borders the forests with a tall fence.

Snakerocks is a pile of rocks that is much like sunningrocks, but the stones are much steeper and bigger. Many herbs like Dill, Goldenseal, Peppermint, and Echinacea grow here, but the rocks are also swarmed with adders. It’s best to keep younger apprentices from here, as they don’t know the danger yet.

The Great Sycamore is the tallest, oldest tree in the territory, and is used by apprentices to see if someone is chicken by daring the newest apprentices to climb to the very top of the branches.

The Abandoned Cabin is an old, run down log cabin that has been overgrown with moss, vines, and other plants, including a birch growing right in the center. It’s considered a sacred place by the ThunderClan druids as it’s a good place to grow herbs

The Thunderpath is a long, busy road that separates ThunderClan territory from ShadowClan. It’s considered very dangerous since it’s usually very busy, so most cats avoid it