#because on my first clear i did scale the cliffs while i was exploring and i didn't find this

[thefirstknife]

Everyone remember the mysterious portal from Whisper of the Worm mission that changed from showing Vault of Glass to something unknown?

It's in Encore!

Right at the start, you can scale the cliff a little if you go to the left and then drop down on Vex platforms, but you can also get there if you take a wrong exit while taking the normal path right at the start when you're going through the tunnel. But when you go there at the start of the mission, there's nothing actually there.

However, when you return to the starting area while doing the second secret chest, you can come back down and then a wall will be open:

When you go in, you can see the portal. It's not active and there's no image showing on it (this remains even after you complete the chest puzzle).

When you turn around, looking from the portal back to where you came from, the image is clear:

I wonder if this is just a neat little conclusion on the hint they put in Whisper, or if something will change during the next two weeks. I would think that the portal should eventually show us the view into the Whisper mission. Maybe there will be some puzzle to do or some extra stuff that will activate the portal, it would be really cool, though it's not super necessary.

[daydreamingic]

A Liminal Moment

Author notes: edited with grammarly, ritual and clan names are made up. Mistakes are mine, constructive criticism welcome. I'm cleaning out my WIPs/ideas folder and this was one I wanted to finish. Very vanilla for me but it was fun to write. No plans at the moment to continue, but the bones are there in case I want to revist. Set in the WoW universe.

A Liminal Moment​

"Tenkof gets to go on an overnight hunt." Ahkune, daughter of Guragom, stood firmly in the entry to her parents' small hut with her green fists on her hips. "Why am I forbidden?" Her parents sat on a soft, colorful rug across the room from the entrance of their home. They exchanged a glance, a glint of firelight from the small fire in the middle of their hut catching amusement in her mother's eyes before her father turned toward her. Her mother continued to weave a large basket with dried reeds as he spoke. "The Wor’amon is a bonding ritual between the hunter and his companion, as his companion seeks a lifemate. Only the hunter and his companion," he emphasized and gave his daughter a smile that curled around his wide tusks. "As you age, friendships change," Yatesh, her mother, interjected sternly, and set the basket down. She crossed muscled arms over her chest, taking her own firm stance across the room from her daughter. "Much of your journey will be alone as well, Ahkune. This is the first of many separate journeys for both of you." Ahkune's dark eyes narrowed. Neither of her parent’s gazes wavered when they felt the crackle of electricity in the air. With a huff, Ahkune turned on her heel and left the tent. The tension dissipated immediately. "Elements help him," Guragom chuckled, turning toward his mate, who frowned after their daughter. "I remember another young spitfire that wouldn't take no for an answer..." "I've had a vision," Yatesh said abruptly and turned to him. "He's going to leave her. Not on purpose, but she will be forever changed. It would be in her best interest to focus on her path now." "Would that have stopped you?" Guragom asked bluntly. Yatesh scowled but the harsh look softened almost immediately. "I don’t want her path changed because of the loss of their friendship. Letting them grow as close as they have may have been a mistake.” "You couldn't have pried them apart as children, Yatesh, any more than you could pry them apart now. We can't decide her path for her," Guragom said and reached over to take her hand. He rubbed her knuckles with calloused fingers. “And we can’t change the past. Ahkune is almost of age, and her journey is her own.” Yatesh blew out a sharp breath and her lower lip trembled before she bit it. “I don’t want darkness for her,” she said, voice quiet. Guragom sighed and pulled his mate into his arms, and Yatesh went, willing, their forms coming together as one silhouette. “We can only guide her,” he said, tightening the embrace. “The choices are hers.” After a long moment, Yatesh took a deep breath and pulled back, reaching for the incomplete basket to continue her weaving. ***

Ahkune crept through the dense forest that bordered her clan’s land as dusk settled. She stayed far out of sight while Kulgah of the Wolfclaw Clan guided his son to the beginning of a barely discernible path, far into the woods. The elements responded to her urgency, her need to be near Tenkof, and guided her between the trees, her bare footsteps soft. She wore a soft fur skirt and thin leather vest with no adornments, and her hair was tightly braided down the back of her head. If she’d been walking with Tenkof and his father, she’d have bones and beads and feathers tied into her hair, but Tenkof was born of a long line of hunters, and his family members were the best trackers in the clan; any mistake would lead them both to her, so she’d chosen quiet clothing and begged the elements to ensure there were no brambles to fight, no branches that hung so low she’d have to disturb them. She watched from a cliff ledge some distance away when Tenkof and his father entered a small clearing that opened to the edge of a pond. From her vantage above the clearing, she could see a stream that dropped down a distant mountainside and snaked through the forest, to the pond where Tenkof stood with his massive, gray wolf, Kosh, at his side. Kosh knew Ahkune’s scent well but hadn’t glanced her way while she followed the group. Kulgah was a large orc, bigger than Ahkune's father, and one of the strongest in their clan. Tenkof was nearly his father’s height but not as tightly muscled, shoulders not quite as wide--yet. Kulgah said something that Ahkune couldn’t make out, then gave his son a hearty slap on the back and started the long trek back through the forest, toward their clan grounds. Kulgah had worn simple leathers, but Tenkof was clad only in a loincloth and his bow and quiver. When Kulgah departed, Tenkof scouted the small clearing and used a handful of dried brush and some downed branches to start a campfire. Ahkune watched and waited for his father to disappear beyond sight. Once Kulgah could no longer be seen or heard, she glanced back at Tenkof--who was standing in the clearing, next to the crackling fire, and staring directly at the ledge where Ahkune was perched. Tenkof nodded in her direction, then pointed toward the fire and turned his back to the cliff. He settled down on the ground while Kosh prowled the clearing. Face hot with shame from being spotted, Ahkune didn’t attempt to keep quiet as she scaled the ledge and dropped to the soft, moss-covered ground below. She sprinted through the trees toward Tenkof’s clearing. Kosh met her in the forest with a wide, happy smile, tongue lolling, and loped by her side as they ran to Tenkof. “Thought you were quiet, did you?” Tenkof chuckled, not bothering to turn as Ahkune stepped into the clearing. Ahkune snorted and glared at his back, at his long, dark hair that had been tied in a braid. “On the approach, yes. It seems I was not?” “You were.” Tenkof glanced at her then, looking over his shoulder. “I’m not sure if my father noticed you. He didn’t speak of you.” Ahkune raised her brows but said nothing. The likelihood of his father not noticing her was slim, especially since Tenkof had spotted her. It didn’t matter. Kulgah had left and her parents hadn’t bothered trying to follow her. She walked to the fire and sat opposite of Tenkof, one hand gripping a fist full of soft earth. She could feel the element’s anticipation thrumming through the ground beneath her. “You understand the implications of Wor’amon, Ahkune.” Tenkof stared into the fire now, his face and posture set in firm lines. “Why did you come?” She’d been told repeatedly that there would be ceremonies and tasks both would be expected to undertake on separate paths, but she and Tenkof had been inseparable since they could walk, both born in the same season. They still played together in the forest, still swam together in the river. Ahkune often hunted and foraged with Tenkof, his father, and her father. She didn’t understand why she would be kept away from a simple bonding ritual. “Does the passing of the

solstice change us from who we were yesterday? One day, Tenkof, and now we walk our separate paths? Yesterday we swam and fished, Kosh by our sides. Why must tonight be only you and Kosh?” Tenkof turned to her and chided, “I will not be exploring your vision quests with you, Ahkune. These rites have been long established. Tradition has a meaning to our clan.” “Look me in the eyes and say it, then.” She lifted her chin in defiance, crossed her stout arms across her muscled chest. “Come now, Tenkof of the Wolfclaw Clan, look your closest friend in the eyes and tell me that tradition outweighs our bond.” “It doesn’t outweigh it, nitwit,” he said, exasperated. “You’re being purposefully obtuse.” He paused, looking at the fire again. “You don’t know what Wor’amon entails, do you?” She knew Kosh would find a mate and Tenkof would protect them, but she didn’t know any details--not that she’d admit that to Tenkof. “Of course. Why do you think I’m here?” Something peculiar happened when she answered. Tenkof’s cheeks turned reddish in the firelight. She narrowed her eyes. Curious. Tenkof stood and held out a hand for Ahkune to take. She walked to him, and he clasped her hands between his. When he spoke, he sounded more like this father than she’d ever heard, expression solemn, tone serious. It sounded like he’d memorized the words long before they crossed his lips. “Ahkune of the Wolfclaw Clan, daughter of Guragom. You insist on accompanying us on this night of Wor’amon. Answer this. Of your own determination, you have freely chosen to partake in Wor’amon?” Ahkune swallowed. For the first time, she felt like she may have been crossing a line that was drawn for a purpose. Maybe she shouldn’t have lied about understanding the ritual, but it was too late. She wouldn’t back down. “Yes, Tenkof of the Wolfclaw Clan, son of Kulgah.” “So be it,” he said, and while the reddish color darkened and spread down his neck, he shook her hand firmly, then let go. Ahkune immediately punched him in the shoulder, hard, breaking the serious atmosphere that had descended upon the little clearing. “Ahkune,” he chastised. She was strong, but not stronger than he, and instead of punching her back like he may have when they were little, he tugged at the bit of bone that adorned the piercing in her nose. “We wait for Kosh now,” he said. Questions bubbled up in her mind, but she’d already agreed and didn’t want to risk asking them for fear Tenkof would decide that she needed to leave. She would observe and simply accompany Tenkof, she decided, and she took time to examine the clearing. Tenkof’s bow and quiver leaned against a tree near him, and he wore a small leather pouch around his waist, but she saw no other supplies. Kosh settled down next to the fire. Ahkune was never good at waiting, so she offered to find a meal, and Tenkof, after looking Kosh over, agreed to hunt with her. They found a pair of rabbits in the woods, and on the return to the clearing Ahkune spotted ripe berries in a small bramble thicket tucked between trees. When they returned, Kosh was pacing, growing restless. Tenkof gutted the rabbit and left the innards for Kosh, but Kosh paid them no mind. They ate roast rabbit off the bone and finished with berries, watching the fire as it died, while Kosh whined and scented the air at the edge of the clearing. As Kosh grew discontent, Tenkof opened the pouch and pulled out a small sachet. “It is beginning,” Tenkof said. Ahkune bit her tongue and swallowed more questions as Tenkof placed the sachet in his mouth. He didn’t chew but seemed to push it into his cheek, where it bulged slightly. The air in the clearing grew rich with anticipation, a heady scent in the air that Ahkune couldn’t quite identify. “I can feel it,” she said, and her tongue felt thick, the words difficult to force out. Something hot stirred in her veins. “I wondered...” Tenkof shook his head and licked his lips, before moving to the sachet to his other cheek. He reached behind him to untie his braid and shake his hair out. The small bones and glass beads

that were woven into his hair rattled. “Of course you can feel it. I’m sure father knew you were here.” Ahkune laughed then, the sound abrupt and hearty. “If you could track me, I have no doubts that he knew.” While Ahkune would one day be a shaman, her ability to commune with the elements already heightened, she doubted she would ever be able to outsmart the greatest hunter their clan had known. “We follow Kosh now.” Tenkof stood, watching Kosh pant. The wolf prowled toward the north of the clearing, near the creek that spilled into the small pond. Tenkof gathered his bow and slung his leather quiver over his back. Ahkune stood and trailed her fingers over the small wooden totems tucked into the band of her skirt. She’d been on many hunts, but this wasn’t a hunt, and she didn’t know what to expect. The tension grew and it was oddly specific, hungry for something that wasn’t a kill. Though she was inexperienced with others, Ahkune was familiar with burgeoning cravings of the flesh that left her seeking solace in the woods to explore her body alone, but this was different. It was a primal craving that wasn’t quite hers, though she could taste it in the air and feel it begin to affect her, sweat beading on her forehead and upper lip. She wasn’t the only one feeling affected, she thought and stared at Tenkof. The reddish color had spread down his shoulders, over his chest, and she followed the flush down to where his loincloth hung loosely, his feet planted apart-- Kosh howled, long and mournful, asking a question that Ahkune could not understand. From deep within the forest another howl sounded, longer but higher pitched, an answer to the question asked. Kosh’s eyes were bright, head cocked to the side, and when the howl ended, he was off, head low as he lunged into the forest, following a path that Ahkune could not see. Tenkof shouted, and they were off, sprinting after Kosh, diving into the dark forest without hesitation. There was little the familiar woods could offer that would best two young warriors from the Wolfclaw Clan. Tenkof was faster, but just barely; Ahkune followed him easily, leaping over downed logs, dodging underbrush, careening between trees. This felt more like their hunts, but with a growing need coursing through her body. Twigs snapped underfoot, sharp stones dug into the soles of her feet, but she ran through the pain. She brushed against Tenkof, almost gaining on him, and something sparked inside at the brush of her skin against his. Kosh howled again, close but still ahead of them, and Tenkof roared, a burst of speed sending him hurtling in front of Ahkune. They ran for what felt like hours or days, until her heart thundered in her chest and her blood roared in her ears. The trees began to thin, and Tenkof stopped abruptly in front of Ahkune, and she slammed into his back. “Hey,” she snapped, bracing both hands against his back to push him. Tenkof hissed, “Quiet,” and she dropped one hand immediately as she moved to his side, the other hand trailing across his back, unable to pull away completely. They stood at another clearing, breathing heavy, and Kosh circled a smaller, white wolf that snapped and snarled at him. The musk of heat and need was heavier here, and something between Ahkune’s legs ached as she watched, mouth open, as the wolves circled each other. Tenkof dropped his bow and yanked his quiver over his head. That was her only warning before Kosh lunged and Tenkof did the same. Ahkune hit the ground hard. She rolled immediately, just barely escaping being pinned, and she laughed. Tenkof’s eyes were dark as they followed her movement, and she bared her fangs at him as Kosh nipped at his mate across the clearing. The female wolf yelped, and again Tenkof dove toward Ahkune. This time she wasn’t fast enough, and the force of their impact sent them rolling across the ground. The spark where they’d touched before turned into a blaze, fire trailing where their skin met. They wrestled and Ahkune locked her legs around his waist, twisting out from under him, but Tenkof grabbed

her and pulled with all of his might. The wolves growled with spiky hackles raised. Ahkune wouldn’t let Tenkof win without a fight, so she pushed hard, and he growled, showing teeth and tusks. The fire inside her roared, spreading through her abdomen. When Tenkof managed to get one leg between hers, she didn’t try to move away and let him pin her wrists to the ground above her head. His grin was dark and triumphant around his tusks, ivory jutting over the dark green line of his curled lips. He leaned down to nip at her chin. Ahkune hissed and shifted. She tried to bear down on his leg and make contact with where the fire had pooled in her center. She managed to grind down once, pleasure spiking at the drag of his firm muscle against her most vulnerable place, leaving an ache that craved more. Ahkune opened her eyes to see Tenkof’s closing, and her knee caught him off guard when she jammed it between his legs. Across the clearing, the white wolf snarled and snapped at Kosh. Tenkof growled, his smile turned dark as Ahkune scrambled backward, out from beneath him. She laughed and leaned forward, into a crouch, brow raised in challenge. He licked his lips, and when he rushed her, it was different. There was no hint of laughter in his expression, no soft edges to his attack. Kosh lunged toward his mate at the same time, and they both landed. Tenkof grabbed Ahkune by the waist and yanked her up, slamming her against the nearest tree. Kosh’s jaws were wide around the white wolf’s neck, holding her in place as he shifted slowly into position. Tenkof pressed himself against Ahkune, and she could feel the hard lines of his body, and the press of his cock heavy against her abdomen. She’d seen him fully naked before, as they bathed or swam in the river, but this was different; he wasn’t soft, hanging between his legs, no. He was hard and jutted against her. Her eyes widened as arousal flared inside and left her flushed and panting as Tenkof pushed against her once, then stopped, face buried in her neck. The needy noise that escaped her throat surprised her as much as him. Tenkof pulled back enough to look at her, his eyes wide as she whimpered, the need coursing through her suddenly intensified low in her pelvis, hot and slick. All she could think about was how good it felt when he moved against her, and she said so. Tenkof leaned in and her lips parted automatically, her eyes drawn to his mouth. She forced herself to look up when he paused and found him watching her carefully. “Tenkof,” she breathed, “I’m going to kick you again if you don’t do something.” Tenkof growled and surged against her, and she opened her mouth when his lips crashed into hers, and spread her legs so he could shift between them, the press of his cock through the loincloth and her fur skirt even closer and harder than before. She keened, bit his bottom lip, then licked it before he took over and kissed her again. He tasted like bitter herbs, and he turned to spit the sachet on the ground before returning to her mouth. She ground helplessly against him when the hot press of his tongue against hers was too much, yet not enough. “Ahkune,” he said, voice husky with desire, and pulled back. “You’re sure?” She reached up and buried her hands in his hair, and tugged him back to her. “Yes,” she said and bit the tip of his nose. Tenkof laughed, and his chest rumbled against hers, then ducked his head to lick and bite her neck. She groaned, and he reached down to search her skirt. He found the leather tie on one side and pulled it loose, the fur loosening then falling away from her hips. Ahkune inhaled sharply at the sudden exposure of skin, and he pressed his hand between her legs. His other hand shifted up under her thin leather vest, finding the soft swell of one small breast. He pinched her nipple hard, then pushed the vest off her shoulders. “Yes,” she moaned. She fumbled with his chest as he tweaked her nipple with his free hand and rubbed over the sensitive flesh below with his other. He rubbed back and forth until her slick spread between the

folds of her skin, coating his fingers so he could explore more easily, tugging at the thin skin of her entrance. Ahkune hissed and flicked his nipples in return, and it was his turn to groan at the flare of sharp pain, pushing against her as his cock throbbed. Tenkof kissed Ahkune and pushed two fingers into her hot, wet channel, and they heard the white wolf howl as Kosh finally mounted her. Ahkune’s hands trailed down his chest, nails scratching over the tight muscles of his abdomen, catching on the band of his loincloth. The leather tie wasn’t hard to find, and much like hers all it took was a quick tug before the leather was sliding off his skin, and nothing was left between them. She palmed his length as he rocked his fingers in and out of her. She stroked him with unsteady hands, fingers sliding up and over the ridge at the head of his cock with each tug. Precome dripped from the slit at the tip of his cock, down his length, and her hand was sticky with it. He grunted and bit her neck harder, and she gasped as he pressed in with a third wide finger. “More,” she said and nipped at his shoulder. “Need more.” He twisted the nipple on her other breast and captured her in a kiss, tongue pressing into her mouth. It was deep and wet, and she kissed him back just as hard, only breaking the kiss to whine when he pulled his fingers out of her. “I’m here,” he reassured her, and lined himself up, pressing the blunt head of his cock against the soft, slick entrance where her legs spread. Ahkune rolled her hips and his cock slid back and forth, oozing precome that mixed with her wet arousal. He pushed in and she whimpered as something tight inside resisted; he pushed harder, and the fire in her loins exploded as the resistance gave way to a sting of pain. Tenkof filled her, thick and heavy, stretching her--Ahkune’s thoughts were broken and jumbled as she clung to Tenkof, digging her nails into his arms, his back. She pressed her face against his chest as he pushed as far as he could, and he groaned when he bottomed out. They stayed that way for a moment, Ahkune full but not satisfied, her face against his chest, both breathing heavily. The pain faded, leaving only the raging fire within that wanted. Tenkof pulled back and she bit her lip at the loss of sensation; but he pushed back in, hard, and Ahkune couldn’t hold back the sounds she made, loud and desperate as Tenkof began to move in earnest. The blazing pleasure grew with each rough thrust. They picked up speed as they moved in tandem, racing toward an end that neither had ever shared, Ahkune moaning, and Tenkof grunting. Each thrust grew harder, each grunt louder, until Ahkune's eyes watered from the intense pleasure that rolled over her in waves. Each subsequent wave swelled taller and crashed harder, until Ahkune hit the pinnacle and the final wave shattered over her, pleasure pulling her under as her orgasm pulsed from her center. She panted as her muscles contracted around Tenkof, and she felt him swell and thicken inside of her as his thrusts turned short, and jerky. He followed her over the edge, cock pulsing in time with shallow thrusts as he came buried inside of her. Ahkune could feel the sweat drip from his face, covering his chest and shoulders in a sheen. His cock twitched inside of her as he softened, and she sagged against him. Tenkof wrapped his arms around her and held her up, and the wolves howled together. After a few breaths, Tenkof softened enough to slip out, and Ahkune grumbled at the sudden loss of sensation. “You’ll have me again,” Tenkof whispered just behind her ear and nuzzled her neck before he reached down and slid two fingers into her again. “Already?” she chuckled, and he huffed a laugh. “No,” he pressed his lips against the line of her chin. “Without you, I would have spilled my seed on the ground, for the wolves. Kosh and I are bonded, but she’s his. She needs to know that I am an extension of her mate.” He kissed Ahkune again, tongue only darting out to lick her bottom lip, before he pulled away, carrying their shared fluid

over to the wolves. He crouched next to them, Kosh bound to his mate, and held his hand out for the female to lift her head and sniff his fingers, then lick them clean. Kosh’s ears perked up, alert, and he watched until his mate was finished. Ahkune ran her hand over the neat braid that went down the back of her head and ended above her neck, watching as her closest companion, turned lover, walked back to her. “What now?” she asked Tenkof quietly when he crossed the clearing. He sat and gestured for her, so she sat next to him and he wrapped one arm around her shoulders and tugged her close. They settled on the ground together, his arm keeping her at his side. His voice was a quiet rumble. “We stay with them. If they mate again, we mate again. If anything attempts to interrupt, we protect them. Tonight is for their bond, and my bond with both of them.” The white wolf whined and stared at Ahkune with soulful yellow eyes. “Our bond,” Tenkof corrected, and his arm tightened around Ahkune as the white wolf settled down and looked away. “I have always known you would be my mate, Ahkune. I didn’t expect it to happen now, but--” he shook his head. “What’s done is done.” “We coupled,” she said, and jabbed him in the side with her elbow. “We’re not mated yet.” “Tell that to the wolves,” he said, and pressed a fist to her hair and roughened it quickly. Ahkune laughed and tried to squirm away, but he shifted his hand to the side of her face, cupped her cheek with one palm, and stared. Ahkune softened at the warm expression on Tenkof’s face as he looked her over carefully, then kissed her again. He was right, of course. They may not have been mated by ceremony, but the wolves watched them with knowing eyes, and something in Ahkune’s chest had trilled in delight when Tenkof called her his mate. When his lips met hers, it felt like coming home with full packs after a long hunt, or the cold rain on dry fields after a stifling, arid summer. She kissed him back and didn’t think about the future; she simply existed in his embrace, and it felt right. “No matter what punishment awaits my disobedience, I have no regrets,” she told him, tracing the line of his wide jaw with one finger. “I will be by your side, to shoulder my half of any punishment,” Tenkof trailed kisses down her jaw. “Mate.” Their paths had been intertwined since birth, and she knew she was meant to be at his side. The trees sighed as a gentle wind blew, as if the elements agreed. Tenkof mouthed the curve of her neck and followed it down, down, down, as Ahkune tangled her fingers in his dark hair. She let herself test the word, “mate,” as he spread the folds of soft skin between her legs with his tongue. She liked the shape of the word on her lips, and she spoke it out loud. “Mate.” Tenkof groaned against her sensitive flesh, and she shuddered. “Say it again,” he demanded, looking up at her. “Mate,” she said, showing him her teeth. “My mate.” Tenkof’s eyes grew dark with want, and he nipped her thighs before crawling up and over her body, pushing her down against the ground. “Yes,” he said and covered her body with his own. “Yours.” The earth beneath Ahkune hummed quietly, content, similar to her own emotions as they touched each other. Wor’amon momentarily sated, they explored with no urgency as the wolves rested together. Ahkune was happy to be at his side like she’d always been, and didn’t worry about the eventual return to their village; as he’d said, Tenkof would be by her side, and they would carry their burdens together. Mates. ***​

[radramblog]

Full-Art Lands Pt.2

Hello internet persons, this is Rad from 2/9/21 speaking. I am tired from an early early shift at work, and also just got the first vaccine dose, so I’m going to be posting these words written on Monday when I anticipated exactly this level of exhaustion. This might defeat the purpose of “a blog post a day”, but its hardly the first time I’ve done it and also I think I have a pretty solid excuse.

Anyway. This is a continuation of a discussion of every Full-Art Basic Land set in Magic: The Gathering, starting now with Modern Horizons. It counts!

Modern Horizons

Kind of cheating, because technically the Snow-Covered Lands are different cards, but unless you’re building around them (or a card like Extraplanar Lens) then they’re functionally pretty much the same. These are also literally the only Full-Art Snows, so if you’re running those then this is basically your only pimp option.

Ultimately these are kind of held back by the fact that, well, everything has to be blanketed in snow. There’s some interesting blues going along with the Plains and Mountain, and there’s some fun sky colours, but the remainder is left a little bland.

I currently believe these are worth investing in, for what it’s worth. Both Full-Art Lands and Snow Basics always go up eventually, slowly, over time, and these are still less than a dollar each for now.

 Secret Lair: Artist Series: Seb McKinnon

This one is kind of a special case, because there’s just a Swamp. And there are technically two of them, but one is just an older version of the art. So I wasn’t sure whether or not to count these.

Because of these limitations, it’s hard to recommend these unless you have a lot of money and also a mono-black deck. They look great, matching Seb’s excellent style from the other cards in the drop, but it’s a bit of an awkward one. That said, I just have these sitting around, seeing as I got this drop just for the Damnation, so…might as well, I guess?

 Theros: Beyond Death

Much like Amonkhet/Hour of Devastation, this set has one full-art mixed in with several regular basics. The difference is that these are representative of Nyx, the world of Theros’s gods, with its symbolic and nebulaic art.

There’s no real getting over the part where these just look like the Basic Energy cards from the Pokemon Trading Card Game. Considering WoTC’s hand in designing that game, and that the two are equivalent because, well, WotC designed them that way, it’s a fair comparison. But I don’t think this is why these ones aren’t as good as other full-arts. I have two main issues with these lands, and the first is that, well, there’s no land on them. For a set themed around a specific plane, one would expect that plane to be represented in the art, and Nyx does have actual landscapes on it. I get the space-themed design, but they could have been up in the sky above an actual Mountain or whatnot.

The other is the missed opportunity of these being Nebulae. That’s a fine enough design choice, though the symbology is a bit hammered in, but like. In a set based on Ancient Greece and its astronomical focus, with Gods that look like and are represented by constellations, with a mechanic called Constellation, they probably should have just been constellations. It would have made for a more subtle, less, well, Pokemon look, as well.

 Unsanctioned

New Un-Set, new basics. These ones are kind of a hybrid between the Unglued and Unstable ones, with that golden frame and almost borderless design. I’m actually not sure how I feel about these, since while the frame looks nice, it’s also kind of pointless, and the texturing on the mana symbols is a little weird. I don’t like how smooth and reflective they are.

The art is at least still excellent. Not John Avon, but Adam Paquette does a great job distinguishing himself, less realistic but still believable places that feel fantasy. I actually feel like Unsanctioned was overall a miss, especially since each box came with like 2 of each of these basics, but that’s not something I’m holding against them.

 Secret Lair: The Godzilla Lands

Secret Lair has been an opportunity for WotC’s designers to experiment a lot with card frames, though this set of basics doesn’t quite represent that. I’m not sure how well this one did, to be honest, though they did make future basic-only SLs, so fair enough I guess.

So, do you like Godzilla? Because he’s on all of these, along with some other Kaiju from the greater series canon. It’s kind of a little distracting, because the landscapes are otherwise gorgeous. Ironically, though, Godzilla himself is kind of being a scale-reptile in these pieces, giving a sense for just how big that mountain is, or how far away the “camera” is from the ground.

The only Island I see in that Island is Godzilla himself, though.

 Double Masters

These are just a set of reprints from Unhinged and Battle for Zendikar, but in a more borderless style. I’m honestly not sure how I feel about the Unhinged arts being blown up like this. But this is a reprint set, and these are honestly kind of boring, so eh.

 Zendikar Rising

Another Zendikar more lands etc. etc. you get the idea. Like the title suggests, this iteration of the plane has a lot of vertical exploration in its flavour, and the new basics reflect this. Especially  in the Plains, Islands, and Mountains, that sense of adventure and traversal is back from the first Zendikar set.

Interestingly, this one doesn’t have any reprinted arts, unlike Battle for Zendikar, even though there’s only 3 of each land here. There’s probably something to be said about distancing this set from BFZ- that set faced a fair bit of backlash, and it is thematically very different from ZNR. There’s also the conspicuous absence of the Hedrons, apparently having been replaced in art and in flavour by the Skyclaves. No, I still don’t know what those actually are supposed to be.

At the end of the day, these cards do end up making Zendikar feel like it’s lost its edge a little. They’re just a bit too bright and friendly for my liking, even with the inclement conditions in some of the images. I think it literally just might be the clear, bright skies in this one.

 Secret Lair: The Unfathomable Crushing Brutality of Basic Lands

Yeah these are about as edgy as the name suggests. Monochromatic and striking, this set of basic’s iconography is much more evocative than literal, the mood of the colours in their themes, captured largely without them.

It does greatly amuse me that literally all of these arts contains skulls. Talk about gothic. I like these a lot better than the Theros: Beyond Death lands, despite the similarities- Particularly, that the mana symbols aren’t literally just the standard ones- arguably the Island is, but it at least is in the form of negative space.

I can’t get over how thematic these are. Plains embodies community with its weapons and runes and roots, and the human face on the Sun icon. Island represents the vastness of knowledge with its endless waters and starred skies. Swamp is death, skeletons mired in the depths of the surroundings. Mountain is fire, bold and unflinching, while Forest’s gnarled branches running through the skull shows the unflinching nature of, well, nature. They’re all so utterly sick.

 Innistrad: Midnight Hunt

The most recent addition to this list, and one you actually can’t get yet. I think the frames on these being so thin is excellent, since it means they aren’t taking away from the spectacle of the art- not to mention the monochrome of the border and art.

These pieces are magnificent gothic landscapes, the kind you’d expect to see illustrated on the inside cover of Frankenstein or a Lovecraft story. Each and every one of them is ominous in its own special way, with the Swamp that’s a ruined river town to the rugged cliffside path of (presumably) Geier Reach. And the Island with the waves crashing across the cliffs is utterly gorgeous.

Obviously we haven’t seen these in paper quite yet. And the monochrome may make it difficult to tell them apart at a glance. But these are sacrifices I am willing to make for the sake of style.

This is the sum total of all the FABs. For now. Something I didn’t quite realise when writing this was the sheer number of options for this kind of pimping, and how much they’ve ramped up in production over the last few years. Much like with the increase in cards in general, I suppose, as well as premium product versions like the Secret Lairs. I would be genuinely shocked if the game ever exclusively started using Full-Arts, but I’d also not be surprised if we saw them yearly at the longest. 

Either way, I’m sticking with my BfZ lands, because those are the ones I already have!

[diamondcamefromhell]

Dandelion

Jaskier x Female!Reader

[[reupload since tags didnt work the first time :))))))))) ]]

like the most amazing request from @rosasteri

Request/Summary: can i request a thing like Geralt and his friends stopped in some village and while the witcher was hunting some monster reader and jaskier spent their time in the field, like played catch-up and braided the flowers in hair, and so on. fluffy fluff you know…

Warnings: None

Word count: 2,391

A/N: i do have a lot of requests to get to, and i promise i will (as well as Timeless Love) but when i read this one i was SO INPSIRED i couldnt wait to write it [but then i spent 8 hours today playing witcher 3, but we dont talk about that] but now i did it and i did drift a bit from the request, so i hope Rosasteri doesnt mind it too much and i hope you all like it

any and all feedback is appreciated! (can be left anonymously on my ask page)

Velen. Such a boring place to call my home. Nothing but swamps and forests, filled with monsters and ghouls. Wolves and wild dogs. Beautiful in the summer and spring, I can’t deny that, but oh so very boring. Especially if you’re a young woman, warned against exploring the wild. Always seeming so fragile.

One day things did change, when the witcher went by. He was with a bard, Jaskier, and while Geralt handled some contracts and helped some locals, Jask and I spend some time together. We had to part ways, life just get’s in a way. But they promised they would visit again, well, Jaskier promised. But Geralt didn’t disagree, so I count that as a win.

I wish I could have went with them. Leave Velen behind, see what the world has to offer. But I had a little sister, and no parents. Someone had to take care of her, and tagging along with a witcher wouldn’t exactly work out in our favour.

So now I spent my days wondering the streets, waiting. I’d go for walks in the nearby fields and rivers, almost looking to see if some monster appears, maybe  a griffin or something, anything, so we could call upon witcher yet again.

And it happened. To my great surprise, a nearby village has been slaughtered and taken over by some monsters. Nobody knows what they are, apart from that their screams reach our town. We scrambled coin together, putting up a contract, hoping someone would answer it, before we end up being a ghost town.

I was in a tavern, watching Lily, my sister, as she ran around with some other kids. The mood was grim amongst adults, but I was glad our younglings didn’t seem to be affected by it. The door flew open as I saw Geralt walk in, he wasn’t alone, some other witcher was with him. Two pairs of yellow eyes pierced through us, as the tavern went silent.

“Geralt!” Lily yells rushing to witcher, who extends his arms, gently hugging my sister. I spring to my feet too.

“Lily.” He says, as our eyes meet. I give him a wave, a smile painting across my face. “Y/N.”

“Geralt!” I cheerfully say, as a familiar figure appears behind him.

“If you two allowed me to squeeze through,” I hear a muffled voice, as Jaskier makes it through, “I would appreciate it.”

“Jask!” I squeal, rushing to the bard, as he just in time extends his arms. We hug tightly and I nearly choke up, but manage to control myself as I feel Lily join in our hug too.

“Hear there was trouble?” The other witcher speaks, and I pull away from Jaskier, still staying close to him. I cross my arms, as the taverners just stare at us.

“Yes.” I say, eventually. “In nearby town, some monster slaughtered everyone. We heard a whole lot of screams, thought it was Nilfgaardians harassing them, but well… the next day the people were gone. But the screams stayed, horrific, not human screams.”

“Hm.” Geralt grunts. “I need more information.”

I provide all the information I can give to him. I learn that the other witcher is Vesemir, an old friend of Geralt’s, they met on a road, both coming our way. They now said they were glad they ran into each other, as from what they gathered, from me and other folk, it seemed like the issue were Noonwraiths.

Spirits, of sorts. Mostly showing up when the sun was highest in the sky. In this world because they are attached so some item. I didn’t really understand, but the witchers didn’t seem too concerned about handling them, so I didn’t worry.

I was just glad Jaskier was entertaining the kids while this conversation was going on. They were all dancing and signing to some of his songs. What a sight to see.

Geralt and Vesermir excused themselves to go gather some herbs they needed, and look around the lost village, to see what they can find. The mood immediately seemed to pick up, our cry for help was answered.

And I was beaming my personal one was too.

I go to Jaskier, smiling. He stops his lute, looking at me. His eyes seem to shine.

“You haven’t changed at all.” I say, looking him up and down. He’s wearing red pants and red jacket, looking like they’re ever so slightly scaled, with pecks of gold all over them, and a white undershirt.

“Neither have you, Y/N.” He smirks at me. “Looking as lovely as the day I first met you.”

“We need to catch up!” I say, eager to get away from all the ears that were listening in. I look at Lily, who while still young, is far smarter than other kids.

“I’ll stay here.” She says, bravely and I could hug her to death right now. I make a mental note to treat her to something nice. “It’s too warm out.”

“We’ll be back soon.” Jaskier reassures her before I can, and takes my hand in his leading me out.

The weather is prefect, but I am not sure if it seems like this because Jask is here. The breeze is cooling us off from the hot summer sun. The nature is all green and skies clear. I take the lead now, going behind the tavern and around some houses, until we reach the field.

Further away from my village, and the lost one too. Deeper into the prettier parts of Velen. I glance back, as his outfit seems to sparkle in the sunlight. His lute rest easy by his side, as his gaze is glued to me. I wink, taking us even further.

We sit down by some cornflowers, dandelions and chamomiles. The breeze plays with my hair, so I put it behind my ear, feeling his warm hand in mine, sucking in the sun.

“I’ve missed you.” I say, ending the comfortable silence. “So very much.”

“As have I.” He squeezes my hand and drops to the ground. “So much that I thought Geralt will actually punch me off the cliff if I mentioned you one more time. He told me I should have stayed.”

“No way.” I say, wishing he did stay. But I knew he had his… thing, to stay with Geralt. Spread the word of their great adventures. “Velen is too boring. We have pretty sights like this, but the swamps and the wild dogs really don’t put you in the creative mood.”

“It’s not the place, Y/N. Plenty of great ballads could come from this.” I roll my eyes, looking down at him, as he sticks his tongue out.

“Then what is it?” I ask.

“There are bigger things to do.” I stare ahead now, into the river that is flowing nearby. It looks so blue and inviting. Until the drowned get you.

“Bigger stories to tell.” I agree, and Jask sits up. He picks up a chamomile, twisting it in his hands.

“How have you been? How’s Lily?” I shrug, as he pokes me.

“Don’t be moody.” He teases as I finally let out a giggle. He in response, chuckles too.

“Good. Lily has been missing you, singing some songs you taught her all the time. She now wants to grow up and be a bard. Just like her Jasky.” I now gently nudge the bard, who blushes at my words. “I’ve been good, glad to see her so happy. The village was better too, after Geralt helped us last time.”

“Lily the bard does sound amazing.” I chuckle, looking at him. He still is twisting the chamomile in his hands. In the sun his brown hair shine, looking so much lighter.

“So what great adventures did you two get up to?” I say, snapping out of the trance, taking my gaze from the man, to the flower fields. I pick up some dandelions, copying Jask and twisting them around.

“You’ll hear about them in songs.” I look at him, as he winks, sliding closer, draping his hands around me and taking us both to the ground.

We both laugh, but as the breeze picks up, we silence. I stay on his chest, listening to his heartbeat, as the sun kisses us. This seems so perfect – too perfect. I don’t want it to end, not now, not ever. I hear him start to hum, and I tell myself to relax.

Enjoy it while you can.

I get so comfortable I could fall asleep. But I don’t want to spend my precious time with him unconscious. I sit up, pulling him with me, as his hands are still on my waist.

“Here.” I pick up a dandelion again, placing it in his hair.

“Oh, c’mon Y/N.” He takes it out, pretending to be offended, as I grin. “I at least deserve a crown!”

“As you wish, Your Highness,” I mock bow to him, picking up more dandelions, braiding them. Moments later I have very unstable flower crown. I spring to my feet. “Let me crown you, Lord Jaskier.”

“If you wish to do so.” He says, changing his position so now he is kneeling before me.

“I proudly crown you, Julian Alfred Pankratz,” I say his full official name, and he can barely hide his smile now, but he manages, “to be our great ruler and leader. To Lord Jaskier!”

I land the crown on his head, while also cheering, pretending to be a crowd. As expected, it falls apart almost immediately as we both begin laughing. He leans on my legs as I ruffle his hair.

“I guess I don’t deserve a crown.” He says, pulling away. I see one dandelion still stuck in his, now mess of a hair. I leave it be.

“Bards don’t wear crowns.” I say, extending my arm to him. The river keeps catching my eyes, and I want us to walk there. He stands up, intertwining our fingers together.

“Ladies like you should.” He smirks, putting one chamomile in my hair.

We make our way to the river, as I grow cautious. But even the drowned seemed to have left, allowing us to have some peace. I take my boots off, and Jaskier follows, as we step into the stream. It isn’t too powerful, so we can handle it just fine.

The water is cold but pleasing. The bard puts his lute down, and takes his jacket off,  going a bit deeper, dragging me with him. We are up to our knees as he gives me a playful smile, and before I know a wave of water hits my face.

I am struck in shock, as I let out a laugh, attacking again. Our giggles echo, as we soon are both drenched. His dandelion, however, managed to survive. My hand reaches for my chamomile, and I find it safe too, stuck behind my ear. He hugs me, as his warm breath lands on my neck, sending shivers down my spine.

“The water is cold.” He breathes out as I giggle.

“Yeah, I noticed.” We pull away, looking at each other, as water drips down our hair.

He begins leaning in, for what I know would be the best kiss I have ever had. One for the books really. But I can’t pass this chance. So I push him back, as he falls into the water. The look on his face screams betrayal, and now I can’t stop laughing.

He grins, rushing towards me, as he pushes me forward, landing us both underwater. I open my eyes, holding my breath to see him smiling, still holding us both under. He leans in now, not allowing me escape, landing a kiss on my lips.

Then he pulls us both to the surface. I lean on his shoulder, taking deep breaths.

“I guess if I had to pick a way to die,” I tease, as I feel his body shake from giggles, “it would be to drown while the great Jaskier kisses me.”

“Couldn’t resist.” I roll my eyes, knowing he won’t see it. I take a step back, going to the land, as he follows. “You didn’t like it?”

“I didn’t say that.” I immediately argue, flushing red. Jaskier giggles, poking my cheek.

“I know you loved it.” I turn away, fanning my face with my hands as his laugh echoes.

“Shut up.” I finally say, taking shoes in hand and walking ahead. He soon scrambles his things and catches up. “I’m going to miss you.”

“I know.” He answers my silent words, stopping in his tracks. I turn around, as the water drips off him, shining in the sun. Now this is a sight to see. I feel heat rushing back to my cheeks, but I can’t look away. “If it helps I’ll miss you too.”

“Sure.” I say, blinking back the tears. I remind myself to again, enjoy it while it lasts. “Jaskier, come here.”

“Yeah?” He asks, and when he is right next to me, I put my hand on his shoulder.

“I’ll race you to the bridge,” I wink, nudging him back, springing ahead.

I hear him shout that its not fair, as I laugh and tears of joy mixed with sadness manage to escape my eyes, mixing in with the river water, soon drying off as the sun continues to beam at us. I stop at a bridge, as Jaskier catches up to me.

Not wasting any moment, I turn at my feet. I bravely go in front of him, pulling him in for a kiss. I step back sooner than I’d want, smiling.

“You lose.” I smirk, as he stares me in the eyes.

“I think I win.” He finally says, winking. I intertwine our fingers now, taking us back towards the tavern.

“We need to go back to Lily.” I say, as the breeze dries us off. Some townspeople do give us weird looks, as we leave a trial of water behind. Before we enter inside, he stops me.

“I promise to visit you more often.” He says, and I believe his words. I put them in my heart, locking them safe, for those moments when I feel most alone.

“Next time, try to win too.” I wink, opening the door.

As we walk in, laughing, the screams from the lost village silence too.

[arahul-abyssia]

What Lies Out of Sight

No one:

Absolutely no one:

Me: Hmm... I should create a bunch of weird headcanons to try to add continuity to a world that explicitly doesn’t care about such things.

Anyway, this story for @starprincesshlc and @jklantern ’s Nintember event is a bit more of a ‘Lower-Deck Episode’ type, focusing on the sorts of individuals that go unmentioned in the tales we see, those who are passed over without a second thought, but must surely exist if the world were an actual one, fully fleshed out, not just made for a game for playing. This story is also only a little shorter than the length of the last two combined, so, prepare for that, I guess...

~~ Meal, Depths, Ascend, Teamwork, Determination ~~

“You sure you’ll be alright?”

“I already told you, I’ll be fine!”

None of the other members of his squad ever seemed to want to take risks and branch out. They were perfectly happy to spend their time off lounging at the beaches or the café, or doing whatever other mind-numbing things came to their minds. Kolba preferred to use his free time to see what else the world had to offer, beyond his little hometown and the drudgery of work.

Kamron always seemed to fret about Kolba’s escapades. Even though he came back from each of them just fine, even though he was never late when he returned, even though he had frequently shown that there was nothing to worry about, Kamron refused to let him hear the end of it.

“Y’know, if you’re so worried for my safety, why not come along?”

“Because it’s dangerous, and I’m trying not to put myself in harm’s way when I don’t need to!”

“Well, maybe we’ll be safer together. Strength in numbers, he always says…”

“That hasn’t once worked out for us! No matter what formations we take, those two always chew through us faster than we can blink! And that’s if Karla, Kollen, Kiam, and Kyrra haven’t walked off a cliff, as usual!”

“And ‘those two’ won’t be there, so there’s no problem!”

“That’s not the point!”

Kolba sighed and shook his head. He didn’t know why he continued to argue with Kamron about his plans; neither one ever budged on their positions and no new arguments ever came up. He threw his pack onto his shell, adjusted his boots, and walked out of their quarters into the warm ashy air of Bowser’s Fortress.

He’d give his boss credit where it was due: no matter what the design, every single building in the fortress was great at keeping the smoke and smog out, palace, towers, and barracks alike. It wasn’t absolutely choking, but spending time out in it did eventually make it harder to breathe, and it was typically better to avoid it as much as possible, especially in times such as now, when the volcano below was more active than usual.

Kolba walked down the rocky paths and across the ashy fields, toward the nearest long-range warp pipe, which lay a little beyond one of the cracks in the rocky wall around the volcanic region. He would have much preferred for one to be near the barracks, but given that those who maintained the network, whoever they were, were on Peach’s side, Bowser’s forces weren’t allowed to have one within their walls. And he had heard tell that the reason so few short-range ones existed within the fortress was some disagreement between the pipe maintainers and His Stubbornness himself, though he had no clue what that could be.

As he crossed through the crack, it was as though he had passed a magical barrier, for beyond it the sky was suddenly clear and blue and not a trace of ash wafted in the air. He took a deep breath and then set off down the hill towards the massive red pipe at its base. He always thought it interesting how different long-range pipe travel was from short-range; the smaller pipes were always just big enough to fit comfortably, and your movement remained controlled, while the larger ones, well…

Kolba jumped up onto the rim of the pipe and stared down into the dark pit within. The first time he used it, it was quite daunting, but he had long since gotten used to it. With one final check that he had everything in his pack that he needed, he leaped from his perch into the darkness. After a few seconds, his descent slowed and came to a stop for a split-second, then his body began to rocket upwards, the pipe spitting him out into a small grassy clearing surrounded in part by trees, and the rest by more open fields. He looked around to get his bearings, noting that the pipe he emerged from was smaller than the one near the fortress, though certainly not as small as the pipes typically were. He hopped down and looked around some more. Judging by the grey mist in the area, he was already in a location that was only partially active.

That was one of the aspects of their land that he was never sure if he liked. The Mushroom Kingdom and its surrounding regions had an alarming tendency to shift around, the locations of forests and deserts and mountains and everything else moving elsewhere quite noticeably and often suddenly, taking entirely different names and appearances in the process, and many locations hiding themselves away or appearing out of seemingly nowhere. But if the land did not shift, his off-time pastime could not exist. He loved to explore the areas that had become hidden, their entrances having become barely detectable paths that were far off the usual routes.

One of which should be right… around… here!

In the foliage at the edge of the field was a winding string of rocks about as wide as his finger. He pushed through the plants and began following it closely. In almost no time at all, the grey mists had set in more and he emerged from the bushes into a rocky and craggy location. If he had seen it when it was active, he did not know, but he was sure that it was inactive now; the stones lodged in the sheer cliffs that clearly had been paths up and down them were now greatly displaced from one another, and all the pipes were bent oddly and emerged from the ground or pits at weird angles.

Kamron frequently expressed his concern that Kolba would be caught in an inactive zone when the world shifted and then be unable to find his way back, but he was not concerned at all. He knew that the shifts only ever happened on three occasions--between Bowser’s schemes, between other sorts of crises, and between sporting events--and he made sure to never go exploring when nearing or after the end of any of them. And given that His Surliness was busy planning his next scheme to kidnap the princess (which would no doubt ultimately fail), and the world had shifted only two days ago, he was confident he’d be safe for this excursion.

He began to climb up the cliff in front of him, to see what was beyond it. The hand- and footholds were entirely unusable, but his training in being a Fence-Climbing Koopa allowed him to scale the cliff anyway, albeit with some difficulty. In only a few minutes, he had reached the top and pulled himself up. The clifftop had other cliffs he could climb, but there was also a clear disjointed path of relative flatness, so he chose to follow that.

He would have liked to have seen the views from the crags, but the dense grey fog that marked an area as inactive made that an impossibility. On other adventures of his, there was usually something interesting about the locations he was exploring, or something curious to find, but this place seemed to be nothing but broken rock, sheer cliffs, and weird pipe formations.

Maybe I’ll take a few pictures of the weirdest ones… yeah, that’ll work… 

He stopped, pulled his camera out of his pack, and continued onward. While the pipe shapes so far were certainly odd, there were none that he thought particularly picture-worthy. After another several minutes of walking, he decided to flip about and walk backwards for a bit, to see if anything notable popped out where he couldn’t see before, after he made sure the ground before him was relatively straightforward and flat. Walking like this for a few moments, he noticed that his footsteps sometimes seemed to echo about the cliffs, and other times they were practically silenced in the fog.

And then, as if to confirm it, he felt his boot touch something else’s leg as his pack leaned into something similarly squishy. He whipped around to find the telltale mushroomy shape of a Toad doing just the same.

“Oh, hello—”

“Waaaaauuuugggghh! It’s a Koopa Troopa!” The Toad began to flail and scream, as they so often did whenever the Army attacked one of their towns.

“Uh… yes? How are y—”

“G-get away from me! Or I’ll… or I’ll… I’ll make you!”

He brought his arms up to what was probably supposed to be a fighting stance and bent his face into what was likely meant to be a brave and daring glare, but both were quite shoddy attempts.

“Hey now, I may be part of Bowser’s Army, but I’m not here to—”

“Bowser?!” The Toad started yelling even louder and hopping back and forth on his feet, shaking the ground beneath the two, in what could only be described as a dance of panic.

Wait… shaking the ground?

Kolba looked down and saw that the ground around them was cracking from the Toad’s stomping. He reached out his arms and tried to get him to stop, but the Toad seemed too enveloped in his own frenzy to notice anything else in the world.

And then the ground beneath them gave way, revealing the gaping maw of a long-range warp pipe. Kolba turned to get to safety, but the rim of the pipe was too far away and he had already begun falling.

If this was any other pipe, he would have been fine, and could just be sent back up and out once he reached the warp zone. But because this area was inactive, so too was the warp pipe, and so no warping was possible. A panic welled within him, but he took a deep breath and made to recall his training for situations like these. The rhyme for long falls… 

Pull in your limbs and tuck in your head, that’s how you don’t end up dead!

And so he did just that, giving himself a slight spin in the process. There was always something comforting about being inside a shell, the walls pressing close, offering a peace wherever one may go, providing protection from basically everything, halting any possible dizziness. To say it was simply ‘nice’ would be to put it far too mildly.

After what was probably around half a minute, he felt his shell bounce on the hard metal at the bottom of the pipe, the spin keeping him from turning in any other directions, and the bouncing stopped, he stuck out his legs to halt the spinning and then fully emerged. It was almost completely dark, the only light being what little made it down from the entrance high above.

He took a moment to catch his breath, then sat down to brainstorm a way out, but his thoughts were interrupted by a strange rhythmic squeaking noise, slowly getting louder and louder. He looked up just in time to have the giant mushroomy head of the Toad hit him in the snout, squeaking even louder. As his unwilling assailant fell face down on the ground, Kolba rubbed the point of impact; though it wasn’t really painful, it wasn’t exactly comfortable either.

The Toad popped up and whipped around. “Gah! You’re here too?! Why?!”

“...Because you broke the ground beneath us…”

“HUH?! How?!”

“...With all your yelling and screaming and stomping. Like that.” Kolba tried not to be overtly rude, but he couldn’t help but let a slight amount of irritation creep into his voice.

His comment, however, seemed to get the Toad to realize what happened and calm down. “...Alright, fine, no, that’s right…” he looked around, likely coming to the same conclusions Kolba did. “So now what? I’m stuck at the bottom of a warp pipe next to a Koopa Troopa with no way out. What did I do to deserve any of this?!”

Now that was just plain rude. “Well, since it seems we won’t be getting out of here anytime soon, you can sit down and quit acting like I’m the worst thing since Bowser’s Hotel Scheme.”

He made to protest, but immediately his eyes seemed to fill with sudden realization. There was a moment’s pause, then he took a deep breath and plastered a weird smile, somehow both entirely genuine and entirely forced, onto his face. “I’m sorry, I think we got off on the wrong foot. Hi! My name’s Jol, as in Jol T. I’m from the town of Shroomvale.”

Now that was better. Kolba plastered on his own mostly-real smile. “Hello, I’m Kolba, Kolba Koopa. I’m part of the Koopa Troop in Bowser’s Army. Pleased to meet you!”

Kolba stuck out his hand for Jol to shake. He hesitated at first, but then grabbed onto it and quickly shook it. His face seemed to relax in relief. “Oh, good! I thought that might’ve hurt…”

This comment came as a surprise to Kolba. “How exactly would a handshake hurt you?”

Jol seemed to fidget back and forth, realizing what he said, then stumbled about for an answer, saying nothing that Kolba could find meaning in besides what was probably a sort of backpedaling. Eventually, he interrupted, tired of the pointless blubbering.

“Look, it seems like you have some… ‘conceptions’ about me that are preventing us from talking like two normal individuals. So, if you would, please tell me what the problem is so we can work things out. I am all ears.”

The Toad stared at Kolba, with some mixture of confusion and shock, then sighed and began to formulate his words properly. “It’s just… after all the attacks by Bowser on Peach’s Castle, and all the Mario Brothers’ adventures to stop him, rumors start going around, y’know? That the members of Bowser’s Army will stop at nothing to help him, that they coat themselves with something that makes those aligned with Peach unable to normally touch them without getting hurt, that they are imbued with an evil magic that makes their every move serve some purpose of Bowser’s. And now that I say it out loud, to you, it sounds completely insane! But… when so many around you say something, it kinda affects how you think, y’know?”

Kolba closed his eyes and thought. He knew that rumors spread about the Troop, but he had no idea that some were like this. A part of him wanted to feel insulted, but he then suddenly realized that his own societies had similar misgivings.

“Well, some of us aren’t too much better. For a time, I was convinced that all Toads, save for a select few that I could count on one hand, were complete cowards who couldn’t do anything to try to save themselves from danger.”

“Oh? What changed your mind?”

“Met a decent handful over the years who attempted to fight off our attacks. I don’t think it ever worked, but I admired the thought, and felt bad that our assaults succeeded in spite of their efforts.”

Jol nodded, something seeming to give him pause. After a few minutes of silence, he spoke up again. “So, if you feel bad seeing the destruction Bowser’s Army causes, why do you still work for him?”

Kolba sighed. “It’s… a living. Obnoxious as Bowser and his direct lackeys can be, there’s a lot that’s provided free of charge, and I’ve met some good friends there. I know the attacks can be difficult, but I’d like to think that we make up for it and then some when the Mushroom Kingdom counters, which, more often than not, consists of a thorough defeat from Mario and Luigi.”

At this, Jol snickered. “Y’know, that’s honestly perfectly fair! Exactly how many times have you had to respawn due to them?”

“Oh, I’ve lost track at this point… I think I’m up to, like, fifty separate times or so?”

“Really?! Fifty times you’ve been trounced by one of their boots?”

“Or hit by a fireball, or punched in the face, or used to destroy brick blocks and then hurtled into a pit, yeah… you get used to it after a while, comes with the territory and all…”

“That’s… okay, fine, that’s honestly impressive that you’re able to put up with all that…” he paused for a moment. “Y’know, I’ve honestly never realized just how much you guys go through as well, having to serve Bowser and all. No offense, of course, the thought just never crossed my mind.”

“Eh, none taken. Though I am curious: how did you know I was a member of Bowser’s Army? Surely you don’t think every single Koopa is aligned with him?”

“Of course not! I actually have several good friends in Koloburg who are Koopas. It’s just… I guess I can just sort of ‘tell’? I don’t know what it is, there doesn't seem to be any specific visual difference, but unless someone’s in disguise, I just know who’s going to be friendly and who’s going to be hostile. …Or, would be hostile under typical circumstances, I suppose…”

“Oh, then it’s just like us! We can tell which other individuals are aligned with us and which aren’t. I guess that’s a universal thing…!”

Another brief bout of silence, then: “So… we really only get to see Bowser being the attacker… what’s he like when you’re working for him?”

“Not much better, I’d say. His Grouchiness is impatient, petulant, and pretty much impossible to please. It’s not like he mistreats us, but I think he could stand to be a little more grateful if he’s going to keep pulling these schemes to kidnap the princess. ...If you ever get the chance, don’t tell him I said any of that.”

“No worries! Why does he keep doing that anyway, if it never works out? Like, at all?”

Kolba smiled and dropped his voice to a conspiratory whisper. It wasn’t necessary, of course, but the tone would make all the more impactful. “You didn’t hear this from me, but there are rumors going around that it’s not actually Peach that he wants; they think he’s doing this to get Mario’s attention, but he doesn’t actually know how to do that… well, like a normal person. There are a couple of holes in the idea, but it certainly would make the whole situation a lot more interesting, right?”

“But didn’t he rob several other Kingdoms and throw a wedding on the Moon just to try to marry Peach, like, only a few months ago?”

“Like I said, there are a few holes. Some think Peach might be in on it all, but that’s even more flimsy… still though.”

Jol sat for a moment in thought, then shrugged and giggled. “Yeah, I don’t think I’d be at all surprised if it turned out that nearly every crisis in our kingdom was the result of the world’s most dangerous love triangle.”

“Right?! Anyway…”

The wall between them had finally been broken and taken down. For some time after that the two talked about all manners of things, laughing and joking as though they had always been friends. Eventually, however, the conversation did indeed once more die down.

Kolba stood up, Jol following suit. “So, fun as this has been, I think it’s high time we get out of here. Any ideas?”

“Oh, I completely forgot where we were… uh, hm… rope obviously wouldn’t work, and we can’t wall kick like the Bros…”

“Yeah… although…” An idea was rapidly forming in Kolba’s mind. It wasn’t guaranteed to work, but it was the best idea he had.

“Huh? What is it?”

“You know how the Brothers occasionally use this move where one stands on the other and they spin through the air?”

“Y’mean their Spin Jump? Yeah, I think I’ve seen it.”

“If we imitate it in here, if we can move the air around enough, it might provide us with enough lift to get us out of the pipe.”

“Huh… I mean, it’s worth a shot…”

“Right! Grab your bag and hop on!”

With haste, Jol leaped onto Kolba’s head, which he had to retract a bit to be able to properly grip the Toad’s feet. On his mark, the two began spinning clockwise, jumping more and more frequently, and in little time at all, they felt their jumps being boosted by the air flow. Though it was beginning to dizzy them, they kept at it, each jump and twirl bringing them slightly higher.

And then, Kolba’s feet did not reach the ground, and with a quite similar sensation to exiting a functioning warp pipe, the two shot upwards, reaching the top of the tube in about as much time as it took them to fall to its bottom. The change in space outside caused them to lose their rhythm, and the two shot off in opposite directions, each hurtling pack-first into a cliffside. Both took several seconds to catch their breath and balance, then stood.

“Yeah!! Your idea worked! Nice job!” Jol ran to Kolba and proceeded to vigorously shake his hand with both of his own. Kolba returned the gesture with far less excitement.

“I’m… honestly a bit surprised, but yeah, we’re out now! ...Should we do something about the pipe?”

Both turned and looked at the maw of where they were trapped only minutes ago, the last gusts of the wind they created dissipating into the fog.

“Nah, it’ll fix itself eventually. So, what are you going to do next?”

“I dunno about you, but I think I’ve had quite enough adventure for one day. I’m gonna head back to active places, maybe get something refreshing from a café in a simple grassy region. ...Ya wanna join me?”

Kolba thought for a moment, then grinned. “You know what? I think I will.”

And with not another word, the two began their return treks together through the grey mists.

[uncensored-creativity]

Irretrievably

Characters: Roman; Remus Setting: Non sides AU, no pairings Warning: insert AO3’s “Choose not to use Warnings”

Look, I’m not a writer and grammar and tenses are probably all over the place here but this has been lurking in my drafts forever and I just wanted to get it out of my system.

Roman and Remus lived in the woods for as long as they could remember. They don’t recall anything else, anyone else. Just the two of them, together, exploring the world, playing. Roman likes to climb the trees to pick the highest, sweetest fruits. Tossing them to his brother who tries to catch them in the air. Remus often glides with Roman on his back from the cliffs and lets them fall into the clear water in the middle of the pond. Water splashing high into the air, their laughter echoing between the trees.

But time flies and their growing bodies and increasing strength enables them to venture further away from their cave. Further away from the deep middle of the forest to lighter areas, with smaller trees and less thick bushes obscuring the ground. Far enough for Roman to encounter a group of humans. New people, as curious about him as he was about them. It was new, interesting, and so very thrilling. He tells his brother about the encounter, giddy and excited, and drags him along to the less wild parts of the forest. Searching for more humans, wanting Remus to meet them too. He does, but his meeting was… less favorable than his brothers. He can still hear their shouts hours later after his breath finally calmed down. “Fiend! Monster! Dragon!” 

The mood after that event was tense. The talks between them strained. Their differences, unimportant and unthought about for years now occupying all of their thoughts. Remus was different than Roman. His shape, his skin, his wings. So what? That’s how he always looked. He didn’t understand the problem. They were brothers. What does it matter how he was shaped?

After many discussions and the biggest dispute they ever had, Roman ventures out towards the human settlement again. He wants to learn, to understand their reaction, to see if they need to be worried about the villagers coming after them. He comes back with stories, books. Tales about the monstrous dragons who burn down whole cities and kill everything in sight. They frighten Remus. But they do so less than the sparkling he can see in the eyes of his brother when he recounts the stories of heroes, of knights, fighting for honor and battling the evil monsters of the world. “I’m one of the monsters” Remus reminds him every time but Roman just waves him off with a distracted “Not you, the evil ones”.

Roman is slipping away. Remus can feel it. He leaves their territory more and more and for longer periods of time, the new awakened desire for adventure and excitement driving him on. One day he goes away, and doesn’t come back. A month passes and Remus is anxious. He wants to have faith in Roman and his skills, like he promised his brother, but it’s hard. Three months and he is a worried wrack. “Did someone capture him? Is he hurt? Injured? Dead?” The endless stream of fears makes it impossible for him to sleep. But he hangs on. Roman asked him to.

Half a year passes and Remus can’t take it anymore, his sanity barely hanging on a threat. Planning to use the dark of the night and his small size to sneak into the village and search for some sign of what happened to Roman he leaves the safety of his cave and his territory and ventures forth towards his biggest fear. Finding the village was easier than expected. The humans made a bonfire on a big field outside for some celebration. He can see them from his hiding place at the edge of the forest. Can see him. Dancing and laughing and drinking. Radiating in the light of the fire. Happy and free and without worries. Without worries and nightmares like Remus, who hadn’t had a full night of sleep in months. Who worried, alone and anxious, about a brother who seemed to have completely forgotten about him. Who doesn’t need him anymore, now that he has others. Others like him.

Devastated, Remus flees back into the forest. Romans boisterous laughter following him into the darkness. He doesn’t know what to do. Doesn’t want to go back to the pond. Doesn’t want to see the place they’ve lived in together for years. Doesn’t want to remember. Without a thought he spreads his wings and starts to fly. Shaky at first but growing surer about his own strength with every push. He just wants to get away, wants to forget.

Hours later, when the sun starts to rise, he finds a cave on the side of a mountain, surrounded by a thick, dark forest. He collapses into it and the howls of his heartbreak still echo between the walls long after he has fallen asleep from exhaustion.

He makes the cave his own, filling it with a new hoard. A different hoard than the one he was forced to leave behind. Unable, unwilling to keep it. The shiny stones and funny-shaped logs. The souvenirs of adventures and explorations filled with memories of laughter and happy screams. Forcing himself to go against every instinct in him he left it behind. He’s someone else now. He puts himself together new and starts to collect a different hoard. Rotten things and broken trinkets. Filthy junk and casks of oily, smelling liquids. Everything his brother would have wrinkled his nose at in disgust.

He grows. His wings get wider and his scales harden. The flames in his breath get stronger and hotter with every passing day. The forest becomes his new territory and he will protect it. He vows no human coming to his place will survive. They can’t take anymore from him if they can’t leave.

Years pass. A Knight comes to his cave like so many before him. It’s as exciting for Remus as watching the leaves falling in the autumn. It’s always the same. Shiny armors and pompous entrances. Big egos in search for honor or glory or whatever. Remus doesn’t know. It’s always the same, he doesn’t even listen to them anymore. This one is good, Remus would even go as far to say that he’s the best who fought him this far, but he’s still no match. He heats up his helmet with a little trick he invented and prepares to strike him down while he’s distracted with getting it off but freezes in the middle of the movement. One glimpse is enough and he’s overcome with memories of sunshine and warmth and the heavy smell of meadows full of flowers. He’d recognize that mob of hair everywhere. He wants to light it on fire, wants to burn him to ashes like all the other meaningless arrogant knights who challenged him, wants to crash him into the earth the same way he crashed him into pieces, so long ago.

All this happening in a split of a second and Remus contemplates if it would feel as satisfying as he always imagined, in his darker and angrier moments. Part of him wants to find it out even as he pulls his claws back and turns his unprotected throat into the path of the sword. The pain almost incidental to the feeling of warm liquid running down his skin as the sharp blade cuts through his skin effortlessly.

He turns his head to Roman but his vision has already gone hazy. The universe mockingly denying him a last look at the person he will die for. Or maybe it was mercy. The blurred face looks almost shocked and Remus clings to that. Clings to the thought of Roman not knowing who he was till now because it hurts slightly less to have been forgotten than to have him come here with the sole purpose of killing him.

Remus heartbeat is pounding in his ears. Forcing his life out of his body with every thump.

He hopes Roman won’t destroy his treasured little hoard, as disgusting as it might be to him.

He hopes his brother won’t wave his head around like a trophy as humans often like to do. 

He hopes his death will make him happy.

[oneandahalfwolf]

happy birthday @sinfulaqua, the mun behind @bloodsorceress.

Her father had always told her to stay away from there.

“Amira, you are not to go to those islands on the edge of our borders. Not only are they on the outskirts of our seas where I can’t protect you, they are full of vicious monsters. Hideous and terrible creatures, who would skin your scales and tear your fins the first chance they got. They that roam the beaches and forests, just waiting for unwary mermaids to cross their path. You’re my daughter, and I couldn’t bear to see you hurt. So promise me you will steer clear. Promise me.”

Over and over her would tell her. Repeating almost the same words again and again. She only heard them more as she grew older and started exploring the reef on her own.

Don’t go to the islands. It’s not safe. There were monsters.

She knew she really shouldn’t...

But she was never one to listen to authority.

Hence why she was currently heading to those very islands.

She had already gone against her father’s wishes and explored some human settlements along the Southern Reef she had discovered. Carefully of course. She had even taken and kept some souvenirs she had found, including a book that had given her a new name - one she much preferred to her birth name, though her father still refused to call her it.

If she had already done that, then why should this time be any different? She wanted to see for herself what was so dangerous about these islands.

Her blue-green scales shimmered in the sunlight that pierced the surface of the water. Her tail sent up high arcing white sprays whenever it breached. Her brown eyes roved over every new sight this Northern part of the reef blessed her with as she travelled further than she ever had before. She couldn’t keep the smile off of her face as excitement grew in her chest. Not even the fact that the waters were getting slightly colder could dampen her spirits.

Eventually she finally reached a small mass of islands that clustered together, head popping up into the chilly air to have a look around, her brown locks sticking to her scalp and skin. There were a few smaller islands, and a handful of jagged rocks, clustered around one much larger one. She immediately headed over to that one, skimming along at quick speed just below the surface until she got close, moving to swim leisurely - with her head and shoulders above the water - as she circled the largest isle.

It had high cliffs all the way around. Not even a beach she could approach. She frowned deeply as she approached the grey stone, placing her palms on the rock. Her fingers splayed out and pushed in, the pale blue webbing between each digit stretching and her small claws scraping against the surface, sending a collection of grey powder into the salt water below.  

She pursed her lips and looked up, head tilting all the way back as her eyes followed the cliff until she finally saw blue sky. She paused for a long moment before she clenched her jaw with a short huff. She pushed away from the cliff and in a fluid motion dove back under the water. She plunged down towards the depths and circled the island again, this time from underneath.

On her second loop she found a large opening, almost indistinguishable from the rest of the rock. It was only thanks to a moving shaft of sunlight she even saw it. She swam closer and her heart leapt. It was a long tunnel, stretching far inside the cliff. She clapped her hands giddily, mouth opening as she grinned, and couldn't help but whoop with excitement. A few large bubbles escaped and water rushed in but her gills easily compensated for the sudden influx of extra water, three lines at the bottom of her rib cage on each side opening a little wider before settling back into their usual rhythm.

The mermaid surged forward without a second thought and entered the tunnel. It really was large. She could spread her arms wide and still not touch the sides. She swam hard, tail beating at the water as she followed every twist and turn, eager to see where it lead. The current picked up in a few places but she wouldn't be deterred, fighting past it each time.

Eventually she started to see little shafts of light at the end of the passage. She grinned and put on a burst of speed, excitement growing again. She followed the slow rise towards the light before the tunnel took a very sharp incline. The shaft started to widen before opening into a large expanse of water. The mermaid continued to swim upwards before she burst through the surface with a gasp and a large splash. She shook her head a little then ran her webbed hands over her eyes and through her hair, clearing her vision before she took a good look around at the new place she had arrived in.

She seemed to be in the middle of a large pond. Fresh water, not salt water. Crystal clear, bright azure, and virtually still except for the small waterfall at one side, cascading beautifully down the side of a sheer mountain of sorts from a hole halfway up. The rest of the mostly circular banks were covered in lush green grass and bushes, the water only an inch below the stone edge. She could even see trees not far beyond as she slowly turned, brown eyes trying to take everything in.

She suddenly paused, brows furrowing slightly when she thought she had seen something. She glanced back and did a double take, gaze locking onto a pair of glowing grey lights hidden amongst the leaves of one of the bushes. Lights that suddenly blinked.

Not lights. Eyes.   

Her own eyes widened and she screamed, immediately diving back into the water - vaguely hearing a loud yelp and the rustle of foliage as she went under. She swam halfway down before stopping and turning to stare back up at the surface, waiting.  

But nothing came after her. No monster followed and tried to drag her back to “cleave the scales from her tail” as her father claimed. The ripples made by her decent simply slowly faded and the surface was still once more.

After a moment of hesitation she started to swim upwards again, slowly rising out of the water just a little. Only enough for her eyes, forehead and hair to be visible as she carefully peeked out. Still nothing. No movement. No glowing eyes in the bushes. No monsters.

Yet.

She came up fully, water trickling off the smattering of scales at her shoulders and travelling down her bare torso as she treaded water once again, tail swishing gently under her to keep her in place. Everything was still quiet so she swallowed and took a chance.

“He-hello!? Is anyone there?”

Her voice rang out clear and strong into the eerie silence, bouncing slightly off the stone walls behind her and the trees in front of her, the minor tremor in it surprisingly sounding almost non existent. She strained her ears, hoping to hear a response. For a long moment there was nothing and she started to believe that there really weren’t monsters, that she had imagined the eyes and noises. But then there was another rustle of leaves to the left of the original bush.

Her head snapped towards the sound and her heart stopped as her eyes locked onto those two orbs that glowed a light grey. Another long moment passed as the young mermaid and whatever was hidden amongst the bushes simply stared at each other. Eventually she swallowed and, feeling a little safer given the ‘monster’ hadn’t attacked yet, slowly started to swim forward towards the bank, trying to keep her voice light and friendly, as well as steady.

“Hi. It’s okay. You can come out. I won’t hurt you.”  

‘Though I hope you won’t hurt me either,’ was the small thought she had to herself.

At first when she started to move forward the eyes seemed to back away, the mermaid positive she heard a faint whimper, but when she spoke the movement stopped and the eyes blinked, as if thinking. Perhaps debating on whether to believe her. As she reached the bank and folded her arms onto the grass, resting her chin on them as she waited, the whatever huffed - causing the bush to shudder slightly - before moving forward once more. A dog-like nose poke out from the leaves, taking a cautious sniff, before the rest of a body followed - the mermaid letting out a quiet gasp at the sight.

The creature, because that’s what it was - not a monster, looked like one of the large dogs she had seen with the humans. Or perhaps closer to the pictures of wolves she’d seen in the book she’d found. But while it was the size of an adult, slightly bigger in fact, it still had the gangly limbs and big paws of a puppy. The fur was pitch black and, like herself, had patches of scales in places - such as down the forelegs. around the brows, and across the shoulders - but where hers were a blue-green, the beast’s were shades of mostly red with minute areas of grey. Grey that matched it’s eyes.

Eyes that were no longer glowing as it left the darkness of the bush. Eyes that as it drew closer, the mermaid could see were full of intelligence.

The scales weren’t the only thing on this creature that marked it as more than just a normal canine, and showed it was as much a child of the sea as she was. A pair of small horns curved out from the top of its head, slightly curled back and spiralled like a narwhal’s tusk. They had a strange blue hue and a shiny, almost polished look to them - and the mermaid immediately knew they were bioluminescent. She’d seen enough glowing algae, seaweed, lichen and jellyfish in her short life and travels to know that much. She was curious to know if they glowed in only certain circumstances or if the creature could control it.

Her thoughts were cut off as her eyes were drawn to a spiny dorsal fin that stuck out from the centre of the beast’s spine, starting between the shoulder blades and travelling down. The ridges were bone white, and the membrane between each spine was just as pale, almost translucent, with thin red veins spidering all over them. Her gaze was dragged even further down as the creature fully left the bush, to the sight of a crocodile tail poking out from black fur. It dragged slightly along the ground behind it, not yet fully grown given it was still young, and the scales were patterned in lines of black and dark grey.

She quietly released the awed breath she hadn’t realised she had been holding as her gaze was pulled back to the creature’s face as it stopped a few feet from her. A mass of sharp, almost shark like (though only one row), teeth jutted out from it’s slightly open maw, a pink tongue inside. She could also now see pupils in those grey eyes, pupils that were fixed on her. Her eyes were wide and the hairs on the back of her neck stood up as the creature panted and stared at her. From this angle it loomed large above her, standing tall and chest puffed out, tail curling slowly from side to side.

The mermaid swallowed before pushing aside any apprehension or uncertainty, plastering a large smile on her face. She made sure to keep her voice light and cheerful.

“Hi!”

The beast stopped panting and tilted it’s head, eyes intent on the mermaid. It whined softly, ears and nose twitching. Taking a moment to feel her out. After a long pause the creature seemed to deflate. It’s chest dropped and it hunched over, giving a soft huff as its mouth closed with a small snap. The mermaid realised then the beast had likely been trying to seem bigger and more intimidating. Just in case. But now she had apparently passed whatever test she had needed to in order to get a better glimpse of the beast’s true nature.

Said beast took a hesitant step forward and closed the distance between them, leaning in and starting to sniff her over, snuffling over her skin and hair. The mermaid managed to keep still and not flinch as it did so, barely holding in a giggle at the tickling sensation of the movements. She did giggle, rather loudly, when the beast suddenly gave her face a big lick with a rough tongue. She leaned back and batted softly at their nose with a webbed hand as she shook her head. The creature made an odd barking sound that she could only describe as laughter, eyes crinkling and sparkling a little. It flopped down onto its belly, resting its head on its paws - almost mirroring the position she had previously been in. She wiped her face with her hand, giggles petering out as she looked back up at the creature, smile still wide and even more genuine than before.

This was going so much better than she ever hoped. No dangerous monsters at all, just a rather friendly creature. This could be her chance to make a friend, her first friend. Not to mention the perfect opportunity to perhaps finally use the name she had picked for herself

“Nice to meet you too! I’m Ileyra. But you can call me Iley. What’s your name?”

The beast frowned and tilted it’s head again before making a low growl that ended in a high pitched chirp. The mermaid scrunched up her face.

“I don’t think I can pronounce that.” She looked thoughtful for a moment before her face lit up. “What if I gave you a name? I gave myself one, I could think of one for you.”

Almost immediately the beast nodded earnestly, entire body vibrating as it wiggled excitedly. The crocodile tail whipped from side to side, dislodging dirt and grass as it, essentially, wagged. Iley giggled again before she placed her chin on her arms again and stared at the beast, brows furrowing. She thought back to the book, the one she still held dear and kept safe in her secret grotto of treasures. She had chosen to take the name of the mermaid princess, so why not give the beast the name of the girl’s companion - the wolf prince.

It fit so eerily well that she couldn’t pass it up.  

“How about Benkai’l? We could call you Ben for short!”

The beast tilted it’s head, own brows furrowing as it went deep in thought. The mermaid could see a couple of lower teeth of the left side poking out and resting on the outside of the upper jaw. It was rather adorable really. Eventually the creature gave a soft snort and a hard nod. Iley beamed and clapped her hands together.

“Wonderful! Okay, so let’s do this right. Hello Ben, I’m Iley. It’s nice to meet you.”

She thrust her hand out towards them, fingers splayed and webbing stretched. The beast, Ben, looked at her hand for a moment before shuffling forward and pressing it’s, their, muzzle against her palm. Iley let out a soft gasp of surprise. She hadn’t expected that. But then again what had she been expecting, they had paws not hands. How were they supposed to shake it. She took a chance and gave a small rub, smiling as Ben closed their eyes and hummed softly. The fur under her hand was so soft.

She got lost in the sensation but was soon brought out of it as the sun glinted off the high cliff tops. Her head turned and she cursed under her breath. It was getting late. Her father would be getting worried and may even get angry if she didn’t hurry back soon. She looked back at her new friend and gave a sad smile.

“I have to go. But I’ll come back tomorrow! Don’t go anywhere, okay?”

With one last gentle pat and large smile, she pulled back and dove under the water. What she didn’t see was Ben yelp and scrabble up. They got as close to the edge as they dared, eyes scanning the water furtively as they whined. After a long while they sat down and watched the area where the mermaid had disappeared intently. Waiting for her to come back. Not moving from their spot even as night fell.

As promised Iley returned the very next day, managing to assuage her father’s concerns and promising to stay safe. And she was safe. She had proven there were no monsters and also found a new friend. One she felt very safe with.

So safety wasn’t even a concern really.

The mermaid crested the surface with a large splash and, after taking a second to let her lungs to adjust from water to air, looked around. Her brown eyes scanned the banks but saw nothing. She brought her hands up to her mouth, using her tail to keep herself upright, and shouted from between cupped digits.

“Ben!? Benkai’l!?”

Immediately she heard a bark from a little ways off, before the sound of something crashing through the undergrowth followed. The noise quickly grew closer, and louder. She could see bushes and trees quake in sequence before a black shape barrelled out of one to her left, sending leaves and twigs flying in all directions. Ben made it a few bounds out of the bush before they tripped over their own paws. They crashed to the ground with a yelp and tumbled head over tail through the dirt for a few feet until they skidded to a stop. Iley couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of the supposed monster scuffed with dirt and tangled in their own tail.

At the sound of her laughter the young beast looked up, a wide and toothy grin splitting their face. They shook themself free of their own limbs and clumsily stood before bounding the last of the short distance, stopping at the very edge of the water, crocodile tail wagging wildly, thumping off the ground hard everytime it made contact. They barked and Iley swam to the bank, giggling yet again as Ben immediately started to nuzzle at her face and hair. She managed to get a hand on their neck and stroked the fur there with a webbed hand.

“You are friendly. I definitely didn't believe my father when he said there were monsters, but I'll admit I didn't expect this.” She looked around, actually taking in the silence around them, and realised something. Her voice softened as she spoke again. “Are you alone here?”

The large pup gave a nod, whimpering sadly. Iley realised then why the sea beast was so tactile and eager to see her. They were lonely. The mermaid sighed quietly, hand still stroking. If it weren't for the sparkle of her scales she might have lost her hand in the mass of black fur.

“Well don't worry Ben. You're not alone anymore. I'm here, and I'm your friend.”

Ben whined happily, backside wiggling as their tail whipped violently with enthusiastic joy before they lifted their head and howled to the blue sky. Iley stopped, captivated by the sound as it bounced off the rocks and trees. It was melodious and beautiful. It spoke to her very soul somehow, tugged at something in her chest. A sense of familiarity flared in the back of her mind, and a tugging sensation pulled at her left pinky. She was brought out of her almost trance like state as Ben stopped, their howl continuing to echo and slowly fade, and licked her face again.

“Ben!” she shouted with another giggle, gently and playfully trying to push their snout away. “Stop!”

The sea creature complied and pulled back, making that odd chuckling sound as their eyes crinkled. Suddenly they dropped their front half to the ground, entering a ‘bow’ stance. They barked, tongue lolling out over glistening and sharp white teeth as they panted slightly. Iley tilted her head before a smile of her own broke out over her face. The pup wanted to play.

Before Iley could say anything or agree to play, Ben turned and took off, barking into the bushes. The mermaid frowned and craned her head to try see where they went, completely at a loss. After a few moments the young beast returned, trotting out of the bushes before they stopped in front of her with a quizzical look, brows furrowed. They tilted their head and whined with confusion. They gave a short growl and jerked their head towards the bushes and the direction behind them. Iley somehow managed to get the gist of what they were saying.

‘Why stay? Come play.’

“I can’t,” Iley replied sadly, “I can’t leave the water like that Ben.”

She gestured to her tail and leaned back, letting it rise out of the water for them to see before lowering it back down, arms floating behind her to help keep her balance. The pup approached and lowered their body, crawling the last few feet very carefully until they reached the edge, peering over it at the mermaid’s tail. They made a long whine and reached out with one paw to bat at the tail, or rather bat at the air above it, trying so hard not to touch the water. Iley had to fight the urge to ‘aww’ at the cute site, again somehow slowly understanding their silent language.

‘Come on. Why won’t you let her play?’      

Ben made a petulant huff before flopping sideways bodily as they retracted their paw. They looked so much like a kicked puppy that Iley had to giggle. She righted herself, lowering her tail back into the water, and swam over, placing her hands on the grass next to the pouting puppy.

“Why don’t you come in the water and play with me?”

Iley was shocked when the beast immediately stood up and started to back away, shaking their head with a distressed whining. The mermaid frowned, deep concern lacing her voice.

“What’s wrong? Ben, what is it? You’re okay. Is it the water? Are you afraid of the water?”

The young sea beast fidgeted before averting their gaze and nodding shyly. Iley was sure if they didn’t have fur, she would see a blush on their cheeks. The mermaid shifted sideways along the bank slightly so she was in front of them more and stretched her arms onto the bank, leaning as far towards them as she could.

“It’s okay. I can keep you safe in the water. I promise.” A thought suddenly occurred to her. “Ben, do you know how to swim?”

All she received was an embarrassed whine as the pup still refused to look at her, one front paw scratching at the dirt with sharp claws. At first Iley was confused. Ben was a creature of the sea, she knew that. Their tail, fin and scales proved it. How could they not know how to swim? But then, she thought back to the fact Ben was alone here. No family or friends. No one to teach them how to do what should be natural. That’s why they were afraid of the water. No one had taught them not to be.  The mermaid gave the sea beast a reassuring smile.

“It’s okay,” she repeated, voice still soft. She waited until Ben finally looked at her again, with those big grey eyes, before she continued. “I can teach you. And then we can play.”

The young creature’s brows furrowed and Iley saw conflict in their eyes. After a moment they moved to take a step forward, before hesitating and taking a few steps backwards again. They growled and shook their head with a huff, starting to pace back and forth along the bank. Iley could see them getting agitated and after a short while reached out, taking a hold of a front leg and making them stop. Their scales were smooth under her palm she thought, before locking eyes with Ben as they turned their head towards her. Grey met brown as she smiled again.

“I promise Ben, you’ll be okay. You can trust me. I’m here.”

She slid her hand down and took their paw in hers. She felt that tug to her pinky again, at the same time Ben’s paw twitched. She felt a warmth bloom in her chest as she stared into their eyes. She thought she felt a sense of familiarity, a flash of some hard to reach memory. But it was gone as quickly as it came when the pup nodded. Iley grinned before she gently pulled Ben’s paw, swimming backwards a little and leading the sea beast to the edge. She let go of their paw and let it hang in the air above the water. Ben stared at the water and, after glancing at Iley and taking in her encouraging expression, dipped the paw in. Almost immediately they pulled it out with a soft yelp, but it was in long enough for Iley to see the webbing between the pup’s toes.

“Ah-ha!” she exclaimed, making the pup jump in surprise. “You can swim! Or rather you’re made to swim. Just like I thought.”

Ben looked confused so Iley swam forward. She took a hold of their paw again, gently pulling apart two of their toes to show the black webbing between them. She then placed her own palm against the pad before splaying her fingers to show her own webbing.

“See. Just like me.” The pup looked at the sight in awe but still seemed unconvinced. Iley placed her other hand on top of their paw and looked up at them. “You’re made for the water Ben. You just didn’t have anyone to show you. But I can do that. I’m your friend after all.”

The sea beast blinked and paused for another moment, thinking it over, before they nodded again, harder this time with determination in their eyes. Iley beamed and gave Ben’s paw one last squeeze before swimming backwards once more, heading further into the lake and away from the bank. The pup yelped and whined, hopping from paw to paw a little as the distance grew between them, still nervous. They looked down at the water then back up at Iley’s face, repeating the action as they tried to gather their courage.

With one last glance at the mermaid and a deep breath, Ben jumped.

They hit the water with a loud and large splash, sending arcs high into the air and sizable waves across the surface. Iley lifted an arm to cover her face but still got a lot over her. Not that it mattered since she was already in the water. She was quick to recover when she heard the horrid sound of distressed yelps and howls coming from Ben. She hurried over and dodged thrashing limbs as the pup tried to stay afloat, grasping the upper sections of their forelegs as she tried to take their weight as well as calm them down.

“Hey! Hey, Ben! It’s okay. It’s okay.” Ben slowly quietened, hiccuping a litte and whined apologetically. “You don’t have to apologise. It’s scary. But I’ve got you. See.” The pup nodded, choking a little as their snout slipped under the surface, having trouble keeping their head above water since they were only using their upper arms which Iley was currently holding. “You have to use your back legs to Ben. Just move them as if you were on you back kicking air. First left then right. Try it. Left. Right. Left. Right.”

Ben nodded, spluttering again and shaking their head, sending more water flying. But they did as she said, kicking their back legs and letting their paws push at the water. Left then right, again and again. Iley grinned, slowly letting go of their weight as they started to keep themself afloat. She took note that their tail was moving from side to side of its own accord and their spiny fin had already unfurled. Their body was rapidly adapting to the water, naturally knowing what to do. The mermaid just had to push them the rest of the way.

“That’s it Ben! You’re doing great. I’m going to let you go now okay, and all you have to do is kick your front legs as well. Just push the water out of your way and move like you were running. Understand.”

The sea beast gave an affirmative whine, too afraid to nod or open their mouth. Iley squeezed their arms before shifting out of their way and letting go. Ben floundered for a moment before moving their limbs as instructed. It was a stuttering start but soon they were doing an awkward doggie paddle, moving slowly through the water. Iley clapped and whooped with pride.

“You’re doing it Ben!”

Ben barked joyously, movements getting more sure as they continued. All on their own they started to turn. It was a wide arc, still not totally in control or knowing what they were doing, but they were doing it - tail already helping them to steer and change direction. Iley giggled and dove under, approaching Ben from underneath and circling them. She had to stop and do a double take as she saw gills much like her own, in the same place even (along the bottom of their rib cage), that had been hidden by fur. She saw Ben spinning jerkily as they tried to find her, so she surfaced next to them and hugged them around the neck. She felt them dip as they grunted, but her pride flared stronger as they managed to stay above the water.

“I’m so proud Ben. You’re swimming! I told you you were made for this. Your fin and tail are already figuring out what to do. And guess what. You have gills! Just like me. Do you know what that means? You can go underwater too! Do you want to try?” They whined, the sound uncertain much like their expression, but Iley just kissed their cheek. “You can do it. I know you can. And I’ll be here the whole time. I’ll help you. I promise.” She moved around in front of them, keeping her hands on their shoulders. “All you have to do is breath. I know it sounds odd, but trust me. Your gills will do the rest.”

She let go and, with a big smile, sank beneath the water. She waited, watching Ben’s paws kick, until finally the pup dropped below the surface in a torrent of bubbles. Iley had to giggle at the sight of their eyes screwed shut and cheeks bulging, clearly having taken a big deep breath. She tilted her head and raised a brow as she saw that small flaps of membrane now covered Ben’s nostrils, stopping any water from getting in their nose. That was a handy trick.

The mermaid reached out and booped their nose, grinning as they cracked their eyes open and squinted at her. She made a display of breathing through her mouth, gesturing to her gills so they could see the slits opening and closing. Ben seemed to hesitate but soon opened their mouth, a blast of bubbles escaping as they first breathed in the water, eyes bugging, but quickly they found their rhythm. Iley nodded fervently and pointed to their own gills. The sea pup craned their head and twisted their body around to see, and yelped as they saw them, the sound absolutely hilarious underwater. They spun around to look at their other side, shocked since they had never seen these gills before. Didn’t even know they had them.     

Ben swung around to look at her and barked, bubbles exploding out their mouth as their tail wagged behind them. Iley giggled and cocked a brow, mischief glinting in her eyes, before she ducked under them, swimming around them a few times before darting off. She stopped to wait and was delighted when Ben caught on, growling (though the sound was garbled underwater) before giving chase. They were a little slow and clumsy but it didn’t bother the mermaid. She let them take their time and even let them catch her a few times, letting them evade her for a while.

Even after only a few hours of playing Ben was getting more sure of swimming, and by the time Iley had to leave the pup was lying on the bank soaking wet but grinning even as they panted. The mermaid was glad to have made them happy. Plus she had had fun too. She told Ben so as she prepared to return home, bidding them farewell with a kiss on the snout before she headed off.

Iley returned the next day, and the next, and the next. Every day she came to the island and played with Ben. She continued to teach them how to swim, and the pup was soon able to zip through the water with ease. She also spent time with them on the bank, grooming them occasionally and napping on the rocks when they were warm from the midday sun. She was interested when they went off to bring her things to show her, and thankful when they brought her food - usually fruit from the forest. She was so happy to have a friend.

However after a year her father had started to grow worried at her disappearing every day for long periods. He was started to keep an eye on her more, sending fish to follow her. Going to see Ben was getting harder. But she hatched a plan. Something she hoped her friend would agree to. She was nervous when she first broached the subject.

“So my father is getting worried. He doesn’t like me being away for so long. If he finds out where I’m going everyday he could force me to stop, and I wouldn’t be able to come see you again. But what if… What if you moved closer? You could come live in my grotto. It’s not too far from home and dad doesn’t know about it. You’d still be safe and it would be so much easier to see you. So we could spend more time together. What do you say?”

Ben thought it over, taking a few days in fact, but eventually agreed. Iley was giddy and, after making sure Ben was ready, started to head towards the underwater tunnel - only to be stopped by a bark. The young sea beast shook their head and nodded towards the waterfall, before giving her a whine and a twitch of ears. Iley had learnt enough of their language over the years to fully understand them, if miss a few things here and there.

‘I’ll meet you outside.’

The mermaid was confused but didn’t argue as she watched her friend run over and start to scale the rocks towards the waterfall. She pried her eyes away and dove under, propelling herself hard towards the tunnel. She rushed as fast as she could and resurfaced in the ocean again, quickly moving to circle the cliff face as she hunted for where Ben might appear. She heard a bark high above and backed away from the rocks, craning her neck to see. She could just make out a hole halfway up one side and a black shape at the mouth. The shape suddenly jumped and Iley’s eyes followed Ben as they plummeted towards the sea below, hitting the surface with an almighty splash. She watched them surface and splutter, a disgusted look on their face. The mermaid giggled.

“Yeah, salt water doesn’t taste very nice. But you’ll get used to it.”

She beckoned them with one webbed hand before leading the way on the somewhat long trek to her grotto. Ben didn’t complain the entire way, in fact enjoying the new environment - as well as occasionally racing their mermaid friend. Eventually they made it to the small island that housed Iley’s treasures, travelling up the river that lead to the sea and into a cave. Ben’s horns started to glow as they entered, casting a calming blue light onto the walls that made them glitter. Iley loved it when their horns lit up, but this was even more wonderful. She lead them over to a ledge, pulling herself up so she could sit on it and watching them haul themself out of the water. She had to cover her face and laugh as they shook themself, water flying everywhere. She waited for them to stretch and flop down to rest before speaking.

“It’s not much but there’s room for you to sleep, and it’s safe. I can fetch you some leaves and grass and we can make a bed. It’s probably not the same as home, but you’ll be safe and I’ll be closer -”

Ben cut her off, nuzzling her cheek with a wet snout, a low growl vibrating in their chest.

‘It’s perfect.’

Iley giggled and threw her arms around their neck, kissing their cheek and nuzzling back. They remained like that for a few minutes before she pulled back.

“Oh! Let me show you my collection. I can show you the book where I got our names.”

Ben barked happily and watched as she reached for one of the many items on the naturally made shelves surrounding the ledge. The remainder of that day was spent reading said book until Iley had to return home, leaving as usual with the promise to come back the next day. The sea beast watched her go before curling up and falling fast asleep, exhausted after such an eventful day.

The next few years were spent in a happy routine. The friends made Iley’s grotto a den for Ben. They explored the island, the mermaid using the river to travel, and not only found the best places to get fruit and berries, but also collected supplies to make the sea pup a proper bed. The grotto became quite homely. The two also went out and explored the reef, Iley showing her best friend her favourite spots and teaching them what she had discovered about humans. They both even amassed more knick knacks for the grotto’s shelves, Ben even getting their own little corner to display their finds.

Iley soon hit puberty. She gained more scales, all of which grew stronger and harder as well as gaining a few more shades of blue and green. Her breasts began to develop. She gained more muscle and her hair became shiner. Her siren voice also started to drop. She couldn’t quite draw in unwary sailors, something she was still unsure she wanted to do, but she could carry a tune. She would practice with Ben on the beach and the pup always gave her a standing ovation.

Ben started to grow up as well. Their horns became longer and curved further up their head. Their tail became longer and stronger, shedding a few times as it grew. Iley ended up using the remains to decorate the grotto. Their claws even became stronger and sharper, as did their teeth - both of which could be rather painful so Iley made sure to keep a small pile of tree bark for her friend to gnaw on and scratch at.

Everything seemed to be going perfect.

However that changed when Ben seemed to become sick.

At first they were just tired, often just sleeping and not wanting to go exploring - especially off the island. Then they stopped eating, Iley having to actively force them to at least have a few berries here and there. When they started to shed large clumps of fur and even whole scales - which left behind patches of white skin and weeping sores respectively - Iley couldn't sit by and pretend it wasn’t serious.

She bit the carp and dragged Ben to the local sea crone, a very old and wise witch who held many answers to the mysteries of the sea and someone her father trusted. She only lived a few islands away but even that was difficult for Ben, Iley having to pull them most of the way.

“Uzdrow!” the mermaid called out as she surfaced in the pool of the sea witch’s cave. She heard movement and shuffling, eyes darting around until she saw a shadow. A shadow that became an elderly woman as she  emerged from behind a rock.

“I’m coming, I’m coming. Hold your seahorses. Ah, Amira. Oh no I’m sorry, Ileyra. I forgot for a moment. Time is a funny thing. Always forgetting where we are. What seems to be the trouble young one.”

“My friend,” she said, worry and urgency lacing her tone as she lead a weak Ben over to the edge of the pool. “They need help. They’re sick.” The woman helped Iley get the creature onto the stone shelf beside the pool, hands hovering over their form as she breathed in awe.

“A Sea Hound. I haven’t seen one in centuries. I was lead to believe you were all wiped out. Where did you find this one child?” Before Iley could answer, the woman shook her head. “No, no, that doesn’t matter now. What matters is getting your friend well again.”

“Can you fix them?” The crone nodded as she prodded the bare patches of skin amongst fur.

“I have an inkling to what is wrong. But I need to be sure. Leave them with me. I’ll send you word when you can return.”

“Wait I can’t stay! I can’t even visit.”

“Best not child,” the witch replied, busy closely examining a paw and hushing the pup as they whined, “If it’s what I think it is it’s a rather private affair as well as a little grim. You probably don’t want to witness it, and I don’t think your friend will want you too either. Plus your energy might put more stress on them what with all that worry you’re projecting. Best let them be as calm as possible.”

Iley wanted to argue. She wanted to argue so bad. But she knew the woman was right. That it was best for her to leave. She leant up on the shelf as far as she could and hugged Ben, pressing her forehead to theirs.

“I’ll be back. I promise.”

Ben whined and licked her cheek, giving her a brief nuzzle before they flopped back onto the stone, already exhausted. Iley gave them a kiss on the nose before backing away. She glanced at the witch, who gave her a reassuring smile, before she left the cave. As she returned to the ocean her tears mixed with the salt water around her, making them unnoticeable. But she still knew they were there. She just hoped Ben would be okay.

It took an entire week before a fish came to Iley with news. As soon as the small clown fish came to her with the message that she could return to the sea crone’s lair she made a soft excuse to her father and set off. She made it there in record time and burst through the surface of the pool, approaching the stone shelf. Her face lit up when she caught sight of a lump of black fur with a crocodile tail attached curled up in one corner.

“Ben!”

The lump shifted and the mermaid’s brows furrowed when there was a flash of white, her confusion only deepening as a very human face looked at her. A human face that had very familiar grey eyes. A recognisable whine came from the person’s throat as they started to struggle to stand. Iley’s eyes widened in shock as she took in what was most certainly now Ben.

Instead of being on four legs, the pup now stood on two. Those two were still covered in black fur - fur that ran from waist down - and ended in big paws, but it was their torso that was now different. It was much like that of a merman, more human looking with a flat chest and pale skin. They were still skinny but she could see it more, ribs and collar bones poking out slightly but it didn’t seem to phase them. Many elements were still the same. Their crocodile tail she had already noticed hung down and rested slightly on the ground. They also still had their scales, now sitting on skin much like herself and looking much redder against the white compared to the ones still on their shins that were backed by the black fur. Their horns were also still there, curling out of a mass of black hair next to now more merperson ears, though even more pointy.  

Another whine broke her chain of thought as her changed friend staggered forward, quickly gaining momentum and running right off the shelf, crashing straight into Iley and sending them both under. The mermaid struggled a little at first before she realised she wasn’t being attacked, but rather wrapped in a strong hug. She blinked and slowly wrapped her own arms around them, feeling tears mixing with the water again.

Eventually Ben pulled her back up to the surface and nuzzled at her face the second they breached. Iley couldn’t help but laugh even between her choked sobs. She pulled back and placed her hands on the pup’s very non-furry cheeks.

“Ben?” she breathed, almost still not believing her eyes. Her friend nodded, grinning wide and showing off their still sharp shark like teeth. “How?”

“Puberty,” came the voice of the sea witch. Iley’s head snapped up as she watched the old crone approach with a large smile. “They were going through puberty. That’s how it works with their species. They start off as a beast and then become close to what humans call satyrs. Only with paws, not hooves. They’re still the same person. They just stand on two legs rather than four.”

Ben whined, getting Iley’s attention, and lifted their hand, taking the mermaid’s from their cheek and pressing their palm to hers. Iley’s breath caught as she saw their very similar limbs. Ben’s fingers were longer, as were their claws which were also sharper, but they matched much better than before when she had pressed her hand to a paw. She splayed her fingers and watched Ben’s webbing, which was now pale and translucent to match their finn (which she could still see unfurled along their spin as they floated in the water) rather than the black it had been, unfold and touch hers. She could feel that tug in her pinky, even stronger than ever before. She still didn’t know what it was but she didn’t care. It felt like home. She giggled and shook her head, looking back up at the pup.

“You scared me,” she whispered. Ben whined and pressed their forehead to hers.

‘I’m sorry.’

“It’s okay,” she said with a shrug, before a smirk graced her face and mischief sparkled in her brown eyes. “But you can make it up to me by racing me to the grotto.”

Ben barked in agreement, still grinning. Iley turned to the sea witch, opening her mouth to speak but the woman cut her off.

“No need to thank me child. And don’t worry. Your secret's safe with me. Now go have some fun.”

The mermaid nodded with a smile before she turned her gaze back to Ben. She pulled her hands away and splashed them with water. The pup spluttered and while they were distracted Iley laughed before diving under the water, racing away. Ben growled and quickly followed. It took them a minute to figure out how to swim with their new anatomy but they adapted quickly and gave chase.

While this event had been a strange one, it was just the start of many more adventures to come. Maybe not all good, but so long as the friends had each other they would be alright.

[sincognito]

Scales and Bones | Supernatural AU ficlet

Yo! So I’ve finally managed to get out this little ficlet I’ve been planning that is based on @itsladykit  ‘s Atypical fic. Basically just how I think my Papyrus would fit into the AU if he was there - I also added Cash because he seems really interesting so far *-*

I’ve been a little behind on writing but seeing @bonesaws-and-dust  ‘s lovely Naga art I’ve finally been given enough inspiration to finish up this one.

Unedited because I’m lazy lmao. 

“Saw Scaled Vipers include some of the species responsible for causing the most snakebite cases and deaths in the world.”

The warm summer waters were swaying back and forth with the waves, gently rocking the body of the dozing skeleton. He gave the occasional lazy swish of his tail, ensuring he didn’t drift too far towards the shore. Being spotted by some irritating monster or human would only be an inconvenience – it was better to stay closer to the rocky cliffs to avoid notice – he didn’t quite feel like having to throw anyone into the water when he could simply enjoy basking in the sunshine.

He lazily cracked his sockets open, squinting as his eye lights attempted to register his surrounds under such harsh light. Scanning the rocky beach along the water’s edge, he was surprised to spot a small cave opening, and entrance seemingly eroded into the side of the cavern and allowing a small measure of water to enter.

Cash rolled over onto his stomach, using his powerful tail to keep himself upright as he scrutinised it further. He couldn’t exactly say he was familiar with that particular part of the coastline, and the promise of possible exploration and adventure sang out to him, pulling him in closer. Or perhaps it was the tide dragging him closer, he couldn’t tell.

He hummed softly to himself, happily enjoying the sound of his own perfect tone for a few moments in thought before ducking under the water and beginning his approach. He stayed low, shadowing the outline of the coral and jagged stone as he proceeded to stealthily worm his way closer to the cave, pausing every little while to ensure there was no danger. A siren was no creature to be trifled with, but it never hurt to err on the side of caution when traversing unknown waters.

Once he had reached the point where the water flowed into the cave he surfaced again, taking another look. The entrance was far larger than it had appeared, and from his underwater viewing, it was also a lot deeper than he had first expected. Nevertheless, it still appeared to be deserted, despite his inability to see too far into the darkness beyond. However, being a monster used to the dark of the ocean he knew he would have no trouble navigating the tunnels, no matter how far they led.

He calmly sunk once more into the water, beginning to slowly creep through the large underwater passageways. He was forced more than once to use his arms to pull himself through gaps where the water narrowed, but he was otherwise able to simply give a few flicks of his tail to propel himself at a leisurely gait.

From the cave ceiling above hung small worms that were illuminated a bright blue, looking almost like the stars on a clear evening, and whenever Cash happened to breach the surface he would watch as small alien-like insects and lizards scuttled from the light of his magic that seemed unnaturally bright in such a dark place. It was like an entirely different planet, and despite the almost eerie atmosphere, he found himself deeply enchanted by its beauty.

Eventually, the water came to an end with a shallow pool, and the aquatic skeleton was forced to poke his head out of the water and balance on his front arms. The cave seemed to continue onwards, but unlike the area, he had just passed through there was light shining through a small opening at the highest point on the ceiling. It lit up the particles of dust that drifted through the air and cast deep shadows upon all of the stalactites and stalagmites.

The natural cave structure, however, was not what had caught the monster’s interest. Several metres from the water’s edge sat a large chest upon a raised stone platform. While the platform appeared crudely made at best, the chest was obviously something of high craftsmanship, its deep red wooden body, while old, still stood strong against the elements. It was edged with a slightly clouded silver metal that, while coated in a thick layer of dirt and possibly mould, could easily be polished and restored to its former glory. Strangely enough, the box’s wood was intricately carved with ancient etchings of large serpents. It triggered something deep within his memory, but he couldn’t quite recall what.

While normally he would have jumped at the chance to investigate the chest and its contents further, something put his body on edge, sending uneasy shivers all the way from the top of his neck to the tip of his tail. The possibility of finding himself some more riches was exciting, but still, his body screamed of danger and so he moved as slowly and silently as possible through the water and towards the rocky pool’s edge.

He sniffed the air but was uncertain what could be a dangerous creature’s scent and what was simply rot and damp. With each movement timid and carefully placed, the siren gently pulled himself from the water, beginning to drag his lengthy tail across the smooth stone with as little sound as possible.

He took another look around at the cave from his new vantage point, but still saw nothing of danger. However, his with mind reminding him constantly of the exciting chest he had yet to investigate, he was unsure if curiosity did not cloud his senses. Deciding to continue creeping forward, he was pleased when he managed to reach the object of his interest without problem.

Although he tried to pry the box open as slowly and quietly as possible, the rusted hinges creaked awfully and filled the cave with the unavoidably loud echoes. He tensed momentarily, pausing to listen for a moment before rearing up to consider the contents of the chest. He was stunned to find it filled with all manners of riches; and yet they were no common coins or jewellery, but rather elaborate golden tributes to ancient deities and alien objects that he sensed had been somehow enchanted.

In his excitement, Cash reached out to snatch a golden plate to inspect the illustration sketched onto its surface. It was the image of a many-armed human woman, riding astride a fierce tiger, holding weapons in some of her hands. He had never seen this particular goddess before – not that the siren spent much of his time studying ancient cultures – but due to his great love of expensive fabrics and gems, he could tell from the style of the clothing and jewellery adorning the woman that she hailed from some Indian philosophy.

He hummed in interest, his phalanges trailing over the picture and taking in all of the ridges and indents that covered its surface. It would take him many trips if he wanted to add the chest and its insides to his own treasure trove. He began to rummage about, pushing the gold at the top aside so he could search deeper when a sound caught his attention.

Cash’s head shot up from the confines of the wooden chest, his eyes darting around the cavern, but unable to spot what exactly was causing the sound. It was an odd noise to say the least – almost like water sizzling on a heated frypan – it was less than pleasant to listen to and more than a little unnerving. It had begun as only a soft sound, but it rapidly rose in crescendo until the horrible sound practically bounced off the walls.

From the gloom, the siren could only sit and watch as a slim, lengthy body of scales began to slither out from behind a few pillars. It was a serpent and a massive one at that. Its body was lined from head to toe in thick maroon scales and as it swept forward across the floor he could see that it was deliberately scraping the lines of scales against one another, creating the sizzling sound he had been alerted by.

While most of the body resembled a snake, the creature had the torso of a skeleton monster, one of its eyes alight with magic. It hissed softly, tasting the air with its tongue before its eyes settled on the smaller monster before it.

“Easy there, friend, ‘m just passing through,” Cash said quietly in as calm a tone as he could muster. He could feel a cold sweat beginning to form on his skull as he began to try and anxiously inch back towards the water. He knew better than to move too quickly, concerned that he would agitate the monster further, however, every time he attempted to move away the serpent would slither closer, looking him up and down with blazing intensity.

He didn’t even manage to get halfway back to the pool before the snake lunged forward with almost impossible speed. He grunted loudly as he was knocked onto his back, the air knocked from his non-existent lungs as the creature snatched his wrists. His momentary stupefaction gave the reptile just enough time to wind a few of its coils tightly around his waist and tail, ensuring it had a firm hold on him before lifting him up to its eye level.

With every slight relaxation of his tail’s muscles, the snake tightened its hold, quickly beginning to grow uncomfortably constricted. It was then that he was glad he didn’t need to breathe, otherwise, the monster could have easily begun to draw out the oxygen from his lungs and suffocate him a little more with every exhale. “I mean you no harm, Lamia” he choked out, continuing to try and free his arms.

It tilted its head, a soft rumble emanating from its chest, “I’m no Lamia,�� it hissed, tongue slipping past its teeth to slide along one of its venomous fangs, “I am obvioussssly a Naga.” The snake, evidently a male from the sound if his voice and the general shape of his body, gave a soft chuckle, the tip of his tail reaching up to bind Cash’s wrists together behind his back.

“Wa’s the difference?” He growled, wincing as the scales jutting from the Naga’s body began to stab into his far less armoured tail. He couldn’t so much as twitch it anymore, only his chest and skull remained free.

The serpent’s jaw pulled upward in an almost playful smirk as his hands lighted upon Cash’s hips, “Nagasss are far sssuperiour to Lamiasss,” he began, humming to himself happily, “We are the guardiansss of ancient templesss and great treasuressss. We are sssemi-divine creaturesss, but you could probably tell that from my ssstriking good looks.”

Cash saw his opportunity for escape, offering a smirk of his own in return, “’course I could, handsome,” seduction was his forte – he wouldn’t make a very good siren if he couldn’t tell people exactly what they wanted to hear in order to lure them in – he slipped into the same mindset he used to trick unwary humans and monsters to their demise as easily as flicking a switch, “You’re feelin’ a little cold there, how’s about I help keep you warm?”

The Naga’s grip on him loosened as it moved closer, pressing its exposed ribs against Cash’s with what almost sounded like a purr, melting into the monster’s warmth. “Tha’s better now, isn’t it?” The snake was growing unweary, just like any monster beginning to fall under the siren’s charm, his body growing slacker with every passing moment and every silken word from the aquatic monster’s mouth.

“Mmm,” the serpent hummed back, tail uncoiling from Cash’s arms as he begun to slip into a relaxed haze. “I sssuppossse you’re not that bad, little fish,” He started to hum louder when the siren reached out and began to massage his ribs, his grip on the monster’s hips and tail almost non-existent.

Cash saw his opportunity, twisting from the creature’s grasp and practically throwing himself at the nearby water. He ignored the outraged snarl from the monster behind him, sliding across the ground faster than he’s ever moved in his life before plunging into the cool water. Unfortunately, he didn’t quite make it, a hand snatching his tail before he had the chance to flee and beginning to drag him back and out of the water.

He began thrashing in panic, scrabbling at anything he could take a hold of before the serpent could get a proper hold on him. There was a sudden pain that shot through his fins as something sharp clamped down on them, easily piercing the soft ectoflesh. He wrenched his tail away from whatever had impaled his tail, feeling another sudden burst of pain as he managed to reclaim his lower half.

Without sparing another moment the siren was racing back through the caverns, ignoring the scrapes he gained from moving so irrationally through the narrow tunnels. Even under the water, he could hear the distant sound of the snake’s scales rubbing up against one another, spurring him on like a whip to a racehorse.

He dove out from the cave’s entrance, not caring if he was seen anymore, refusing to slow his rapid pace until he was back in familiar water far, far away.

Cash allowed himself to sink into the water, closing his eyes as he relived his rather narrow escape, breathing heavily. He certainly wouldn’t be going back for that treasure. With a grimace of pain, he looked down at his tail, frowning at the way the large fin had been torn apart, a small trail of his magic drifting from the open wound.

He reached out and touched the injury, his eyes narrowing at the slightly discoloured magic leaking out from alongside his ‘blood’. He began to rub at his temples, sighing softly as he felt a headache beginning to grow. However, his mind had begun to cloud over, making focusing quite a troublesome task.

Sensing something was wrong, he slowly swam towards a large gathering of rocks poking just above the water’s surface. With no little amount of effort thanks to the numerous golden chains hanging from his neck, he hauled himself onto the stones, laying himself down and glancing down to inspect his tail closer. From where the fin had been pierced, lines of maroon magic had started to wind up through his veins, infecting the limb with what he could only assume was some kind of venom.

He cursed, gritting his teeth as a foul mixture of bile and magic began to rise up into his throat, his head spinning and rendering him limp. He was no expert in healing magic, nor with venoms and potions, but even if he had been he wasn’t sure he could hold focus long enough to do anything substantial.

Cash closed his eyes, grumbling quietly to himself, a mixture of curses and complaints. He lay still, resigning himself to simply waiting until the venom’s potency had dropped and its effects wore off… or the possibility that they wouldn’t.

“The creator deity Brahma commanded Nagas to bite only the truly evil or those destined to die prematurely.”

[allinyourmindclimbing]

The pictures all belong to John Gill / copyright John Gill !!

INTERVIEW with the legendary John Gill.

(Interview done by - and intro written by Jean-Marc Winckel in 2008)

John Paul Gill Jr., born February 16, 1937, in Tuscaloosa, Alabama (USA) is my all time climbing hero beside Wolfgang Güllich, Klem Loskot, Tony Lamprecht and some others. I admire his philosophy about climbing, especially bouldering. He is a mathematician, a gymnast, a climber and for me a philosopher, a wise man. « There is an affinity between math and climbing. It has to do with independence of effort and good pattern recognition skills, coupled with a desire to solve problems and explore. », so John.

As a gymnast, he discoverd bouldering and introduced the use of magnesia (chalk) and the dynamic movements into climbing. The jumps were aesthetically pleasing him. The picture where he does a one-arm front lever (see the pictures) became very known throughout the whole world. Therefore, he is also known as the father of bouldering. Climbing was for John an extension of gymnastics. In his first article in the « American Alpine Journal » in 1969 named « The Art Of Bouldering » he wrote : « …the boulderer is concerned with form almost as much as with success and will not feel that he has truly mastered a problem until he can do it gracefully. » But what I admire the most about him are his ideas about the mental strength in climbing and how he experimented with it.

Pat Ament writes in his biography about John Gill : « … He found in bouldering sharp, clear reality, and on occasion a feeling that – with the right consciousness – he weighed a little bit less. The right mental attitude might inspire « a slight sensation of telekinesis » or in fact minutely perceivable levitation. It was easy to listen to such concepts, as they flowed subtly and with somewhat of a sense of humor from Gill. After all, he did at times seem to defy gravity. »

In Yosemite in the late ‘70s Yvon Chouinard said about John : « Climbing is still in a stage of pure physical movement, and the next step is going to be mind control. I think Gill has already gone into that, from watching him prepare for a boulder even in the late ‘50s. … You’re going to have to use meditation and Yoga to be able to get up some of the new climbs, because pure physical strength and technique are not going to be enough. … I think it’s going to be Zen and the art of rock climbing. »

In the beginning, John found inspiration for his mental training by reading the books of Carlos Castaneda (« A Separate Reality », « The Teachings of Don Juan », « The Art of Dreaming », …) Often he soloed long, easy graded routes to enter mentally another world and experiment with the flow effect. Experiences such as these were entirely the consequences of meditative practices, for he NEVER had used psychedelic drugs.

Furthermore, Pat Ament writes in the biography : « Gill spoke of a mystical reality that, as he described, was an « extension of the hypnagogic state. » He suggested that certain exertions in bouldering occasionally produced an apparent separation of « I-consciousness » and physical body, « similar to how the mind of a long-distance runner seems to soar above the automaton-like running form… » … Gill seemed fond of the phrase « kinesthetic awareness, » meaning perhaps « self-realization, » a turning inward where all realms – sensory, mental, athletic, artistic, intellectual, mystical, spiritual and aesthetic – are united. »

In his essay « Notes on Bouldering – The Vertical Path » John described that the « outer value » of bouldering, pure difficulty, is just one aspect of the sport. The « inner value » of bouldering has much more to offer. But to acquire it one has to break away from competition !

In his description about a climb near Pueblo that John Gill and Chris Jones soloed together, Chris said : « One must be free to choose a more difficult way than the easiest, if that is what strikes the fancy of the moment. The rock must be a menu, for this « menu-soloing .» The choices, freedom, movement, mental acuity inspired by the exposure, warmth of the sun, feel of the rock – the EXPERIENCE is everything. »

I am SO happy that I had the chance to have contact with John and ask him to make a little interview with this living legend. I hope you enjoy this interview as much as I did ! Let it be a little inspiration for you to improve yourself, change the way you see things, change your views about climbing and enter mentally another world while climbing.

I advice you to read the biography « John Gill – MASTER OF ROCK » written by his friend Pat Ament (ISBN : 0-8117-2853-6) and have a look at his website www.johngill.net !

Have fun … it’s all in your mind !

1. When and how did you discover bouldering/climbing ?

In 1953, as a junior in high school in Atlanta, Georgia, a classmate, Jeanne Shearer (Bergen) took me along to north Georgia on a one-day expedition to try to find a cave in the middle of a limestone cliff. She had ropes and carabiners and slings, and I was fascinated with dangling above an abyss and scrambling about. I started bouldering – without knowing that was what I was doing – in 1954, while a student at Georgia Tech. Seemed like a natural extension of the gymnastics I was learning. A couple of years later in the Tetons Yvon Chouinard told me I was "bouldering", something he and his pals did in a light-hearted way at Stoney Point near Los Angeles. No one had the faintest idea of the history or origin of the activity, and it was strictly playtime on the rock, not serious climbing. Some Brit, I'm guessing, told someone at Stoney Point in the late 1940s or early 1950s they were "boulderers".

2. Do you still boulder/climb a lot? If not, how did you put the sport behind you?

I quit bouldering over twenty years ago after tearing the biceps off my right forearm in a bouldering accident. After thirty-something years of chalked-up dynamics, my body said "enough". I returned to my other climbing love – modest freesoloing – for a number of years. These days, with arthritic shoulders and chronic rotator cuff problems, I still enjoy traverses right above the ground, and I may get back into some solo climbing this summer, as well. However, I can't jump off boulders anymore, regardless of mats.

3. Do you consider climbing in general as a sport or a lifestyle?

For me it was an athletic lifestyle.

4. In how far do you relate mathematics with climbing and gymnastics with climbing? What do they all have in common?

I'm not sure mathematics has much to do with gymnastics, but the problem-solving aspect bears some relationship with the more cerebral aspect of rock climbing or bouldering. Gymnastics was good for me, for I began climbing with no athletic background and the still rings and gymnasium rope led to chalk, dynamics, and strength. I did gymnastics for its own sake as well, enjoying learning difficult moves and feeling the grace and precision necessary for the sport.

5. What do you mean by “option soloing”?

Picking and choosing among different possible lines according to difficulty or aesthetics when going up otherwise relatively easy terrain.

6. Do you stay in tune with modern bouldering, the magazines or websites?

Not really. I read some of the articles occasionally.

7. What differs in your opinion the climbing of today from the climbing when you discovered the sport?!

The level of naiveté. When too much is known about an activity and the standards are very high, it seems more like work than play. There was a different sense of adventure back then, more like a pilot flying by the seat of his pants in the 1920s when compared to modern flight training. Jets are neat, but think of the time the old barnstormers had!

8. What do you think of the current grading system in bouldering and the 20+ moves boulder traverses? Should they be graded as a route or a boulder problem?

The V-scale seems adequate, although I'd like to see one set of numbers or letters for all kinds of rock moves, low or high, short or extended – a system incorporating some sort of additional marker to distinguish power from endurance.

9. What do you think about the recent grade-explosion? Wouldn't a scaling system that is in constant evolution or a grading system depending on the number of ascents be more appropriate?

Every generation since the 1950s has seen a "grade explosion". If the circumstances are right, yes, a simple ratio of attempts vs. success might be a nearly-objective system. But this is very unlikely to occur. In gymnastics, in the 1950s, there were A, B, and C level moves. Now there are D and E and super E additional levels of difficulty. The open-ended structure is entrenched and would take a nuclear detonation to change!

10. How many moves had a typical boulder problem "at your time"? And how high were they?

Depends on where they were. At Jenny Lake the problems were very short, just three or four moves, if that, on 12 foot-high boulders. In the Needles of South Dakota, they were somewhat longer, sometimes up to 30 feet, but that was rare. I used to compare a problem with a gymnastic routine, which would have 7 or 8 moves at most. More than that and you were on a climb.

11. Why didn't you put a mattress under your boulders? For ethical reasons, transportation issues or are the young guys cowards? :-)

Are you kidding? Pads were invented to make money. We would take a simple and cheap top-rope along for some of the problems with bad landings or exposure. The "ethics" of not using a top-rope was subtly encouraged by pad makers. A mattress? Puleeese!

12. Is a boulderer a better gymnast or a gymnast a better boulderer?

I don't think there is a solid correlation. In my time – in the 1950s – being a gymnast helped, but not necessarily now that rock climbing has become so specialized and advanced. Better to avoid the excess weight of gymnastic muscle tissue.

13. Didn't you offend any purists and climbers of your time when you started using chalk and doing dynamical movements?

There were some – usually those lucky climbers whose hands stayed dry naturally – who complained about chalk. They didn't feel good losing their genetic advantage! There weren't many who complained about dynamics, although climbers had to become stronger over the years to successfully apply dynamics to the rock. The old adage about three-point suspension came down through the ages in British circles, where climbers objected to the "excessive" use of modern gear. Geoffrey Winthrop Young and others recoiled from the idea of risking falls. Also, the US Army strongly encouraged their mountain troops to follow that practice.

14. You began rock climbing around 1953! Does climbing guard against arthritis?

Little correlation, if any. My shoulders are badly arthritic, but that came mostly from still ring work years ago. My hands and fingers are fine, and it's been 55 years now. I suspect, however, that some types of crack climbing may lead to the condition./p>

15. Do you think the best climbers in the world are that good mainly through good genetics or through dedication?

First genetics, then practice. Without a good anatomical structure, the higher levels of difficulty may not be attainable.

16. Do you believe that yoga and meditation exercises help a lot to increase the level of climbing?

What I found was that meditation increased my enjoyment of climbing no matter what the level. Why does everything have to relate to reaching a higher number?

17. In Pat Ament's biography about you, Yvon Chouinard said: "Climbing is still in a stage of pure physical movement, and the next step is going to be mind control. I think Gill has already gone into that,... in the late '50s.". Please comment on that and do you agree with our saying "it's all in your mind!"?

Speaks for itself, doesn't it? But I think mental control is achieved while actually struggling on the rock – itself a disciplining authority - rather than sitting in an ashram.

18. In how far did the books of Carlos Castaneda help you to enter mentally another world?

They were a tremendous help. After entering another form of reality I saw the true and ancient foundations of religion. Saint Theresa of Avila was a pioneer in this realm.

19. In your essay "Notes on bouldering-The Vertical Path" you wrote that aiming for difficulty in our sport is unhealthy! Why?

Did I say that? Huh. It's not unhealthy, but it is overly confining. There are other dimensions of the sport. One can climb as a moving meditation – not to increase difficulty levels, but to enjoy a kind of epiphany.

20. Please explain and tell us a little bit about "kinaesthetic awareness" and the "flow effect" you experimented with for many years?

Any gymnast can understand the flow of a routine and feel graceful and precise movement. It's not merely to impress the judges. It's an inner reward. It's too bad that the sport of bouldering has been taken over by those who see it as simply competition and a numbers game.

Thank you very much for this interview John and we wish you good luck & health and all the best for the future and may the force be with you!

[miscmuseodd]

On Growing Old

So here’s another thought.  In my earlier years I would have considered someone who was the age I am now to be an “old man.”  But as I have gotten older my personal definition of “old” has continued to advance, and it is still at least ten years out ahead of me, so at this rate, I’ll never get old, which has been my plan all along.  But I remember what I used to think about “old age,” so I thought I should explain to those of more tender years why I relish the age I’ve attained.  And for all of you out there who have just begun to reach those elder years, don’t ever regret growing old, for there are many who never had that privilege.

When I was younger, much younger, and did not think much of “old age,” I used to look at “old people” and think, “Man, I’d hate to be old.  How awful, to be that close to the end!”  Now that I’ve become one of those “old people” myself, I’ve acquired a different perspective.  Consider this: if you’re 18 years old, I have lived for more than four of your lifetimes.  Much has happened and I wouldn’t change any of it, because the sum total has made me into who I am.

 “So?” says the callous youth.

 Well . . . I once drove a Volkswagen Beetle from Fort Bragg, NC to the Mexican border and on down through Central America to the Panama Canal Zone.  Along the way I sank it into a river I was trying to ford and spent the rest of the day recovering it and drying everything out.  From my hammock in a Central American rain forest, I have listened to howler monkeys hooting at their territorial rivals and marveled at a toucan, sailing out of the morning mist with his big red and yellow beak, and gliding across a jungle clearing.  Naked and blindfolded, with my hands and feet securely tied, I have been thrown headfirst into a pit full of mud and water, where an interrogator worked me over for what seemed hours.  My later escape and mad dash through the jungle sparked exhilaration and fear that I remember as vividly as if it were yesterday.  I have dived through a waterfall at the head of Titrou Gorge on the island of Dominica in the Caribbean and stood on a narrow ledge in that same gorge, beneath a cascade of hot water bubbling up from a subterranean spring.

From a grassy field in England I have watched the sun go down behind Stonehenge.  I have watched the moon rise over the ocean as I bedded down for the night on a beach by the Aegean Sea, a few miles east of the temple to Poseidon in southern Greece.  I have climbed the hills of Meteora above the village of Kalembaka in north-central Greece and wandered amongst the ruins of monasteries perched atop seemingly inaccessible spires, once reached only by means of a basket the monks lowered down by hand.

I have been several hundred kilometers off the end of the last road, deep into the R’uub Al Khali, the Empty Quarter in the southeast corner of Saudi Arabia, across range after range of dunes that extend out beyond the horizon, and sat around the fire with friends, watching the occasional meteor trace a line across a sky filled with stars that seemed close enough to reach out and touch.  I have crawled into a crack in the side of a cliff in the Saudi Arabian desert and seen graffiti that was carved into the rock by some unknown tribe that lived there in the time before it was a desert, more than 5,000 years ago.  I have been to Petra, “the rose-red city half as old as time.”  I have driven down the Hejaz Railway, stood on the wreck of a Turkish train still lying on its side where it fell after Lawrence of Arabia attacked it during the First World War, and camped for the night in an abandoned stone fort the Turks built to guard the railway.

I learned to speak two foreign languages with reasonable fluency and picked up a smattering of several others.  I have written poetry in English.  I have white-water rafted down a river in western North Carolina and another in Colorado.  I have ridden a horse, trailing a string of pack mules, into the Bridger-Teton wilderness area in the north part of Wyoming, and while I was up there I watched a grizzly bear watching me, and wondered how hungry he was.  I have hiked along a portion of the Inca Trail and been awe-stricken at the ruins of Machu Picchu.  

On a black night with no moon I have stood in the open door of a C-130 at twelve hundred and fifty feet while loaded down with a rucksack, a weapon, and a parachute, felt the great thundering roar of four turboprop engines reaching into my bones, and stepped off into the darkness.  My body twisting and turning as I fell away from the bird and feeling the sharp tug of the harness as the canopy deployed and opened above me, kindled all the rush and excitement any one person needs for a lifetime.  Then swinging in the harness, the sound of the bird quickly receding in the distance, I floated down to the earth in silence, landed in the darkness, rolled into the fall, and lay there for a moment, getting my breath back.

I have been at that point in life when I could bare my heart and soul to someone, when I felt the connection so many spend a lifetime searching for and never find, when I just knew that my heart belonged with this one, and I made that leap into an uncertain future, trusting that it would be all I hoped it would be.  It did not always work out.  I have had several girlfriends and been married twice.  I have loved deeply and been rejected.  But I have also loved deeply and been loved in return.

I was there with my wife as she gave birth to one of our children (something I recommend to all fathers) and saw her even before her mother did.  That child is now a critical care nurse, and I have told her that since I was there with her when she took her first breath, I want her to be there with me when I take my last one.  I have told stories to my children before tucking them in at night.  I have seen a little girl’s face full of sunshine and a little girl’s eyes full of laughter, felt a little girl’s arms around my neck, and heard those words that will melt any man’s heart, when a little girl says, “I love you, Daddy.”  I have held my baby grandson in my arms and watched him sleep.  How could life possibly be any better than that?

These experiences, while very special to me, are not that unique.  There are many who have traveled further, risked more, and reaped greater rewards.  Just know that when you have explored the breadth, plumbed the depths, scaled the heights, soared with eagles, felt the terror, tasted the honey, and enjoyed all in life that is wild and mysterious, joyous and fearful, foreign and new, and even the old and familiar, you will have plucked music from your heart strings and opened the door into a world that cannot be adequately described or explained to one who has not been there. The years go by, and your past becomes a treasure house of memories, to be recalled in moments of quiet reverie.  

Now maybe I am just an incurable romantic, but it has been quite a ride . . . and no, not for anything on this green Earth, would I trade my “old age” . . . for your youth.

[topfygad]

Path of the Gods: A Guide to Hiking from Bologna to Florence

This put up accommodates affiliate hyperlinks. I’ll earn a fee while you buy, at NO further value for you.

Italy is among the most visited nations on the planet, for good causes. The nation has no scarcity of colourful picture-perfect cities, historic treasure troves and among the finest meals on the planet. 

Sadly, many components of Italy have develop into overrun with vacationers up to now decade or so. Venice misplaced its magic for me after I needed to jostle the crowds to get to my lodge. I fell out of affection with Rome having to attend in line simply to toss a coin into fontana di trevi.

However as I discovered on my latest journey again to Italy, there ARE methods to steer away from the crowds and discover the less-visited components of the nation.

Whereas climbing the Path of the Gods from Bologna to Florence, I used to be impressed to search out charming villages, historic treasures and exquisite mountains — freed from vacationers! When you’re seeking to discover genuine Italy, I like to recommend doing this hike that will get you into the backroads. Additionally take a look at this first-timers information to Bologna that will help you benefit from the metropolis earlier than the trek.

The Path of Gods Information

What’s the Path of the Gods?

The Path of the Gods (By way of degli Dei in Italian) is an historical route connecting Bologna to Florence via the Apennines mountain vary in northern Italy.

On the 135-km path, you might be actually following within the footsteps of  the Romans because it retraces components of the historic Flaminia Navy Roman Highway constructed over 2200 years in the past. 

NOTE! This Path of the Gods is usually confused with The Path of the Gods on the Amalfi Coast. Each are named By way of degli Dei, however the Amalfi path is barely Four miles (7 km) and takes 1.5 to 2 hours to stroll. This one, from Bologna to Florence takes 5 to six days to stroll.

How the Path of the Gods Acquired Its Title

The title By way of degli Dei interprets to imply “Path of the Gods”. It comes from the names of the 5 peaks this path crosses over.

They embody Mount Adone, Monzuno, Mount Venus, and Mount Lunario. Monte Adone is the best one, with its peak at 654m above sea stage. You’ll not solely see sweeping views over the Bologna Hills, but in addition craggy sandstone cliffs that create a novel panorama.

The very best level in the course of the trek is round 1200m above sea stage. When you received’t be traversing excessive altitudes in the course of the trek, there are just a few uphill and downhill walks. However they don’t seem to be overly steep and are quick ascents and descents.

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My Camino de Santiago Information

Why Hike the Path of the Gods

Created within the 1990s, the Path of the Gods is designed to cross via the mountains and rural villages of the Emilia Romagna and Tuscany areas of Italy. The climbing path additionally crosses a number of nature reserves and weaves its well past many monasteries and sanctuaries.

At the moment, it’s a widespread climbing and biking path amongst Italians — nevertheless it’s nonetheless comparatively unknown amongst overseas guests, so go quickly! 

Not solely will you be exploring the backroads of Italy the place vacationers are few and much between, you’ll be seeing its nature, studying its historical past, and experiencing its wealthy culinary tradition.

 Is it Simple to Hike the Path of the Gods?

Typically talking, the Path of the Gods is comparatively straightforward and virtually anybody with an affordable bodily health stage can do it. The path doesn’t attain excessive altitudes, and neither are there steep ascents or tough terrain. You’re principally strolling on ridges and crossing hills of not more than 1200m excessive.

You’ll want 5 – 6 days to stroll the 135km path at a snug tempo. That means that you can stroll 13-20km a day, which is round 3-5 hours. You don’t have to hike the entire manner both — you too can select to skip among the less-interesting components and use the time to go to monasteries or benefit from the spa. It’s all as much as you.

When you favor to stroll at a leisurely tempo, I like to recommend climbing the Path of Gods with a tour operator. My hike was organised by Appennino Gradual, a tour operator that encourages vacationers to  go gradual and discover meaningfully. The itinerary they designed for me was excellent, incorporating relaxation days and including museum visits and cooking demonstrations.

Easy methods to Hike the Path of the Gods

The Path of Gods is marked by crimson and white symbols and indicators. You’ll discover them initially and at crucial intersections.

There are additionally signal boards in every city, with info on the locations. However observe that all the pieces is written in Italian, just some info boards in cities are translated to English.

Much like the favored Camino de Santiago, hikers may get a credential (much like a passport) and obtain a certificates on the finish. You possibly can choose one up on the Bologna Vacationer Workplace. Bear in mind to get a stamp at every of your lodging to current it to the Vacationer Workplace in Florence in your certificates.

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Caminito del Rey: A Information to Spain’s Greatest Hike

Hike the Path of the Gods Independently or on a Guided Tour?

It’s potential to hike the path by yourself, however you may not discover your manner as just some components of the path are signposted. The start of the path particularly didn’t have any indicators. The indicators for the path solely began showing at By way of de Bregoli after we left Bologna behind.

Additionally, I didn’t see many hikers on the Path of the Gods, which was nice. However should you have been strolling independently, you received’t have the ability to ask round or get assist should you want. After I did the Camino de Santiago, there have been so many different hikers that it was straightforward to observe the trail.

With a information, you may see much more of the wildlife (we even noticed a peregrine falcon), and perceive the historical past and setting.

My information Stefano Fazzioli from Appennino Gradual was a wonderful information and a wealth of knowledge. He was affected person and walked alongside me at my gradual tempo, sharing attention-grabbing information and tales. He wrote the official information to the Path of Gods (in Italian) and is aware of the path inside out.

Who Will Benefit from the Path of the Gods?

The Path of the Gods is appropriate for medium-level hikers — those that can hike round 10-20km a day and like to not hike for a couple of week. It’s excellent for avid hikers who wish to go barely off the overwhelmed path in Italy or mix metropolis visits with a trek.

As I discussed, I hardly noticed different hikers on the path. The one folks I met was a bunch of hikers from Bologna, who have been newbie hikers. They talked about that this was the primary multi-day hike they’ve achieved. 

At one of many B&Bs I stayed, I had dinner with over 25 hikers who have been all doing the Path of the Gods similtaneously me. I believed it was so unusual that I by no means noticed any of them on the path.

That’s the fantastic thing about the Path of the Gods: many individuals truly hike the path (principally Italians) however due to the best way it’s designed, you don’t actually cross paths with others. Some trails just like the Camino de Santiago can get too crowded typically.

When to Hike the Path of the Gods

The very best time to hike the Path of Gods is in spring (April to Might) and autumn (September to October) when temperatures are gentle.

It might get extremely popular in summer season with temperatures rising to 104°F ( or 40°C) in the course of the day. In winter, temperatures within the mountains drop to zero and there will be snow typically.

I hiked the Path of the Gods on the finish of Might. The climate was glorious on the primary few days of my hike — it was sunny however not overly sizzling, and I used to be comfy climbing in t-shirt and pants. But it surely began raining continuous midway via my trek.

It was irregular as normally it’s near 30 levels Celsius at the moment of the yr. I like to recommend checking the climate forecast just a few days earlier than your hike to be ready for the circumstances.

The place to Keep Alongside the Path of the Gods

Although a lot of the Path of the Gods passes via rural areas and tiny villages, I used to be shocked by the array of lodging I stayed at. Starting from stunning wineries to spa resorts, there’s no scarcity of good and comfy locations to remain at alongside the path.

For these on a finances, you too can simply discover small easy family-run B&Bs or refuges in virtually each city alongside the Path of Gods. These guesthouses are normally priced at round $25-30 per particular person.

Refuges the place you may sleep on bunk beds in your sleeping bag value round $10-15 per particular person. Sadly as this isn’t a non secular pilgrimage route, so lodging aren’t sponsored like on the Camino de Santiago.

Greatest Locations to Keep in Emilia Romagna:

You will need to e-book your lodging upfront as there will be a number of hikers (even should you don’t see them). Listed below are my favourite locations to remain alongside the Path of the Gods:

Agriturismo Il Passeggere — Undoubtedly my favourite place to remain on the Path of the Gods, this stunning villa has tastefully designed stone homes for visitors to remain and a big looking property full of deers and Tuscan pigs. Its restaurant serves excellent sport meat like deer salami and wild boar steak. Room charges are surprisingly inexpensive. Test costs right here!

L’Isola del Sasso — A wonderful vineyard surrounded by vineyards and rolling hills that prides itself on sustainable practices and wonderful wine. The proprietor Floriano Cinti began this vineyard from scratch, realized to make wine himself and constructed up a formidable assortment. They do wine-tasting classes and present you the way they make scrumptious wine. Guide right here!

Palazzo Loup — This 18th century villa in Loiano isn’t precisely alongside the Path of  the Gods, nevertheless it’s nicely price making a detour for. The villa is extraordinarily wealthy in historical past and character, that includes lavish gardens and chic rooms. I used to be significantly impressed by the spa with the heated pool and water circuit that every one had a spectacular view of the rolling hills. Test costs right here!

The place to Eat Alongside the Path of the Gods

Among the best components of climbing the Path of the Gods is the meals! Emilia Romagna is called Italy’s meals capital and it’s straightforward to see why.

It’s right here that the well-known ‘Bologney’ (Bologna sausage),  Ragu (Bolognese) sauce and Tagliatelle pasta have been first created. Locals take pleasure of their meals and each single dish is made with love.

You’ll discover many conventional trattorias scattered alongside the Path of Gods that serve these basic Bolognese dishes. Most villages have no less than one trattoria (conventional restaurant) and you’ll’t go fallacious in there. It’s virtually unattainable to have a foul meal in Emilia Romagna.

Listed below are a few of my favourite:

Il Postiglione — This is a superb trattoria within the countryside with a menu stuffed with basic Italian dishes and do-it-yourself goodness. Their specialty is the crescentini (fluffy fried dough puffs) with a diffusion of salami and cheese. I additionally had the tortellacci ai porcini (huge tortellini with mushrooms) that was significantly one of the best dish I had on this journey!

Vecchia Trattoria Monte Adone — You’ll need to make a pitstop right here even when it’s not in your plan. I had a tremendous Italian basic, handmade tagliatelle in ragu sauce. It was so easy but outrageously scrumptious. Plus there’s an antipasti and dessert buffet that appears wonderful (we didn’t have it). And also you’ll get to dine with a panoramic view of the mountains round you.

What to Pack for the Hike

My motto has at all times been, “The lighter you pack, the happier you’ll be.” Because you’ll be carrying your belongings with you, it’s necessary to pack solely the necessities and maintain your backpack to a most of 7kg. (Your backpack shouldn’t weigh greater than 10% of your weight.)

It’s necessary to pack for muddy terrain even should you’re visiting in summer season. Some components of the path, specific across the Roman Means, is muddy all yr spherical. You should definitely carry a pair of high-ankle climbing boots and waterproof rain gear.

The Path of Gods primarily passes via rural areas with no retailers or shops round. On most days, there received’t be anywhere to purchase medicine or sports activities gear, so make sure to pack what you want or purchase them in Bologna earlier than beginning the trek.

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My Packing Checklist for the Camino de Santiago

Packing Checklist to Hike the Path of the Gods

30L Mountain climbing backpack (with rain cowl)

1L hydration bladder bag (for simple ingesting)

Mountain climbing boots (to guard ankles and for mud)

Mountain climbing poles (helpful to scale back stress on knees)

Mountain climbing socks

Waterproof jacket

Fast dry climbing pants

Yoga pants or leggings

Fast dry t-shirts

Pyjamas

Flipflops/Sandals

First-aid package (rehydration salts, paracetamol, Compeed and many others)

Cap

Toiletries

Snacks (nuts or muesli bars)

*NOTE: Appennino Gradual has a transport service the place they will carry your  suitcase or stuff you don’t want on the trek to your subsequent lodge every day.

My Path of the Gods Itinerary

What I favored about my itinerary was the gradual and stress-free tempo — I even received a relaxation day in the course of the six-day trek simply to discover the world and calm down a bit. That’s why the philosophy behind Appennino Gradual resonated with me: they imagine in slowly exploring the mountains whereas experiencing their tradition and nature higher.

That mentioned, I didn’t stroll all the Path of the Gods from begin to finish. When you’re a hardcore hiker who needs to finish all the trek, take a look at the really useful itinerary on the backside of the put up.

Day 1: Bologna – Sasso Marconi

We began our trek within the coronary heart of Bologna, particularly at Piazza Maggiore (the primary sq.). Bologna is an enthralling little college metropolis of 400,000 folks, with a historic previous city price visiting should you haven’t been.

Making our manner out of town, we ultimately arrived on the Portico de San Juan, the world’s longest portico (arched walkway). The 4km lengthy walkway has precisely 666 arches, culminating on the San Luca sanctuary. The sanctuary is a basilica church that stands round 300m above town plain, and it’s a UNESCO World Heritage Web site.

From there, we made our manner downhill to By way of de Bregoli, a 1.7 km lengthy forested path to achieve Talon Park in Casalecchio di Reno. Right here you’ll discover the 15th-century palace and gardens of the Marquis Talon Sampieri. As we have been operating late, we took a prepare from Casalecchio to Sasso Marconi, although you may proceed the path.

The place to Eat & Keep: L’Isola del Sasso

It is a stunning vineyard surrounded by vineyards and rolling hills that prides itself on sustainable practices and wonderful wine. The proprietor Floriano Cinti began this vineyard from scratch, realized to make wine himself and constructed up a formidable assortment. They do wine-tasting classes and present you the way they make scrumptious wine. Test the most recent charges right here.

Day 2: Sasso Marconi – Brento

Forsaking Sasso Marconi, we continued our hike into the forests of the Contrafforte Pilocenio Nature Reserve. The protected space is made up of imposing rocky complicated, culminating within the highest peak Monte Adone (654m).

We additionally handed the Unique Fauna and Wildlife Safety Centre, a sanctuary for unique animals, principally imported illegally for revenue after which usually mistreated and deserted. There are every kind of species right here together with tigers, lions, and chimps.

At the moment concerned just a few uphill walks and downhill descents, however they weren’t overly steep or slippery. We walked principally in thick forests that offered shade from the solar and adopted the ridges of Monte Frate and Monte Adone earlier than arriving in Brento. From Brento, we have been picked up by our lodge by van to Loiano.

The place to Eat: Vecchia Trattoria Monte Adone

You’ll need to make a pitstop right here even when it’s not in your plan. I had a tremendous Italian basic, handmade tagliatelle in ragu sauce. It was so easy but outrageously scrumptious. Plus there’s an antipasti and dessert buffet that appears wonderful (we didn’t have it). And also you’ll get t you get to dine with a panoramic view of the mountains round you. Test location right here.

The place to Keep: Palazzo Loup

This 18th century villa in Loiano is so wealthy in historical past and character, that includes lavish gardens and chic rooms. It’s a chic spot the place weddings are held folks take pleasure in hanging out on the attractive garden. I used to be significantly impressed by the spa with the heated pool and water circuit that every one had a spectacular view of the rolling hills. Test the most recent charges right here.

Day 3: Relaxation day

The tour operator Appennino Gradual knew it was going to rain the entire day so that they deliberate a relaxation day for me. I used to be break from trekking and took a relaxation day, which was an ideal technique to get to know the world a bit extra. The Loiano space is just not alongside the Path of Gods, nevertheless it makes for a enjoyable aspect journey.

We spent the morning visiting a museum and archaeological web site in Monterenzio. The Archaeological Museum L. Fantini offers glorious insights to the world’s wealthy historical past. Historical Etruscan villages had been discovered right here, alongside immaculately preserved artifacts and tombs that date again to 300 BC. I used to be actually impressed by how nicely preserved the artifacts on show have been.

From there, we drove over the Archaeological Web site on Monte Bibele the place the unique Etruscan villages have been positioned. It’s an uphill hike to get to the positioning itself. The village has been reconstructed by archaeologists and there are even info in English.

The place to Eat: Il Postiglione

This is a superb trattoria within the countryside with a menu stuffed with basic Italian dishes and do-it-yourself goodness. Their specialty is the crescentini (fluffy fried dough puffs) with a diffusion of salami and cheese. I additionally had the tortellacci ai porcini (huge tortellini with mushrooms) that was significantly one of the best dish I had on this journey! They too have an antipasti buffet that’s price testing should you’re in search of a giant meal. Test the situation right here.

Day 4: Monzuno – Madonna dei Fonelli

At the moment’s hike was a comparatively straightforward one which took simply three hours from begin to finish. From Monzuno, we climbed as much as Monte Venere and located ourselves surrounded by stunning chestnut forests. The misty setting resembled New Zealand greater than Italy.

Finally we reached the tiny village of Le Croci and made our manner up Monte del Galletto. One other hour’s hike took us alongside the flat ridge of the mountain and we have been quickly on the hamlet of Madonna dei Fornelli.

NOTE! It was raining all the day and the paths received fairly muddy and slippery. Make certain to pack waterproof gear and safety in your digital camera gear in case you get as a lot rain as I did.

The place to Eat: Ristorante Poli

This straightforward tavern in the primary sq. of the village serves scrumptious consolation meals like tagliatelle and tortellini. You’ll discover many basic Italian dishes right here in addition to desserts like mascarpone. Costs are low cost and affordable. Test the situation.

The place to Keep: B&B Romani

Additionally on the foremost sq. of the village is that this quaint family-run guesthouse. The younger proprietor, Elisa, is an outgoing host and a very good prepare dinner! She even taught me the right way to prepare dinner the native specialty, frittelle di castagne (chestnut dough fritters), and I had a good time cooking in her kitchen. Her dwelling restaurant is an superior idea, getting hikers from throughout collectively and having fun with a home-cooked meal collectively. Guide your keep right here.

Day 5: Madonna dei Fonelli to Passegere

This was most likely my favourite day when it comes to landscapes, attention-grabbing sights and climbing terrain. Strolling uphill from the village of Madonna dei Fonelli, we have been quickly strolling amidst poppy fields and daisy meadows. It wasn’t wet or foggy that morning, so we had clear views of the Appennine mountains round us.

We ultimately discovered ourselves strolling in a shocking beech forest, with fairy story like setting. Creepy branches, inexperienced moss and grass carpets surrounded us. Subsequent we descended upon Pian di Balestra, a plain full of tall, imposing fir bushes. The environment was as soon as once more a haunting one which resembled the setting of a horror film.

Then we discovered our technique to the stays of the Flaminia Navy or Roman Means, a route that was constructed virtually 2000 years in the past by the Romans to attach Bologna and Rome. It was unbelievable strolling on a valuable piece of historical past (regardless of the ridiculous quantity of mud!). After Three hours of strolling, we arrived at Passeggere, a small hamlet within the Tuscany countryside.

The place to Eat & Keep: Agriturismo Il Passeggere

Undoubtedly my favourite place to remain on the Path of Gods, this stunning villa has tastefully designed stone homes for visitors to remain and a big looking property full of deers and Tuscan pigs. Its restaurant serves excellent sport meat like deer burgers and wild boar steaks. Room charges are surprisingly inexpensive. Test the most recent charges!

Day 6: Futa Go to Florence

On the final day, we began our hike on the Futa Go Cemetery. It was a sobering expertise visiting the resting place of over 33,000 German troopers who perished within the space throughout World Warfare II. Even right this moment, 75 years after WWII, the numbers of our bodies buried right here proceed to extend as extra of them are discovered.

From there, we walked on to Monti di Fo the place we noticed probably the most well-preserved components of the Roman Means. The traditional path that was constructed 2200 years in the past was buried below 1.2m of earth when it was uncovered.

Finally we arrived on the Trebbio Citadel, a very scenic spot the place the panorama is made up of rolling inexperienced hills dotted by Tuscan farmhouses. As we nonetheless had a protracted technique to Florence, our transport picked up and dropped us at San Piero de la Sieve the place we had lunch after which took the prepare to Florence.

The place to Eat & Keep: Residenzia Piandaccoli

In Florence, I stayed on the stunning Residenzia Piandaccoli within the countryside surrounded by rolling hills and vineyards. It’s solely a 20-minute drive from the airport however you are feeling such as you’re in the course of the backcountry. The villa is beautiful, with spacious flats and pool, plus an much more stunning backdrop of cypress bushes and wineries. This was a great spot to finish my trek! Test the most recent charges right here.

Different Itinerary for the Path of the Gods

Like I mentioned, I walked solely components of the Path of Gods as I needed to produce other experiences. When you’re a hardcore hiker who needs to finish all the trek, take a look at this really useful itinerary.

Day 1: Bologna – Badolo (19.Three km)

Day 2: Badolo – Madonna dei Fornelli (27.eight km)

Day 3: Madonna dei Fornelli – Monte di Fo (17.5 km)

Day 4: Monte di Fo – San Piero A Sieve (21 km)

Day 5: San Piero A Sieve – Olmo (19km)

Day 6: Olmo – Florence (14km)

The hike formally ends on the Piazza della Signoria in Florence, however it’s a particularly busy spot. Many hikers select to finish their hike in Fiesole, a village on the outskirts of Florence, the place you may feast on good views of Florence with out battling the crowds. 

I hope that this information will show you how to plan your personal trek on the Path of the Gods. Let me know if in case you have any questions within the feedback area beneath and I’m more than pleased to assist!

Impressed? Pin it!

Disclaimer: This journey was made potential by the Emilia-Romagna Tourism and iambassador, however as at all times, all opinions expressed above are my very own.

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The put up Path of the Gods: A Information to Mountain climbing from Bologna to Florence appeared first on Wild Junket Journey Journey Weblog.

source http://cheaprtravels.com/path-of-the-gods-a-guide-to-hiking-from-bologna-to-florence/

[deaku]

The Arrival of Geon

Hey look at this, a submission from me. Yay! Sure it's short, but it's something ^_^

**********   In the skies over a small valley within the lands of Datalus a metallic being soared, sunlight shining off outstretched metal wings. The being's name was Alexon and he was an air type mechatallic, one of a race of artificial beings. Alexon altered his flight path and swooped down to land on a cliff overlooking the valley, his wings and flight engines folding behind his back as his feet touched the ground.

 Alexon was returning from escorting Princess Crystalline to the city of Marsen in western Datalus; King Marshallo had sent his daughter to the western lands because the Kingdom of Galvinor to the northeast was threatening to attack Datalus over a made-up slight. General Quent of Marsen said there was nothing to fear from the small kingdom, he and his army could easily defeat them if they dared attack. Still the King wanted to ensure his only child's safety and decided sending her to a walled city on the other side of the kingdom was the best way to keep her from harm. So Princess Crystalline and her entourage had traveled to the well-protected city of Marsen, escorted by Alexon.

 After the Princess had safely arrived at Marsen Alexon began his trip back to Datalus’s capitol Gokale on the shores of Lake Corrinu. Something he enjoyed doing on his frequent trips between the cities of east and west Datalus was stop at this valley to admire the natural beauty. He knew his fellow mechatallics back in Gokale would probably laugh at him and call him sentimental but Alexon didn't care, he truly enjoyed the majestic beauty of this valley. The valley itself was deep in the wilderness far away from any roads or trade routes. The only time that people came to the valley as far as Alexon knew was when King Marshallo would occasionally hunt there.  Alexon continued to look around; ever since coming across it he had wondered why this valley had never been settled, it had more than enough resources for people to live comfortably. Then again the mountains and hills surrounding the valley along with thick forest did make it rather difficult to get to on foot. The only reason the King knew about the valley was that he was an avid explorer in his youth and had done his best to chart as much of Datalus as he could.

 Alexon finally decided that it was time to continue his journey, there would be other times for him to admire the valley. He unfolded his wings and began to start up his engines as he started preparing to take back to the air. But a sudden low rumbling sound caught the mechatallic's attention and not long after the rumbling started the ground began shaking. Alexon shut down his engines as he lost his balance and went down to one knee while he was trying to figure out what was going on.

 The rumbling continued though it was beginning to sound like a series of explosions from underneath the ground rather than the rumbling of an earthquake. Regaining his footing despite the continuing shaking of the ground Alexon managed to look around and saw huge fissures opening in the center of the valley. The explosion-like sound came again, and again, fissures widening and new ones appearing each time.

 The noise and shaking finally ceased and Alexon could see the floor of the valley had enormous fissures covering it. But just as peace seemed to be settling in after the chaotic event the shaking started again accompanied by the sound of crumbling and breaking rock as the floor of the valley began to collapse. While the cliff upon which Alexon stood was stable all he could do was watch as the valley sank down and became a deep crater full of broken earth and debris. Alexon stared into the crater that had once been a beautiful valley and wondered what could have caused such a thing to happen; nothing he knew of, except possibly the will of the gods, was capable of such a thing at such a large scale.

 Suddenly the ground seemed to erupt as chunks of earth and debris were blasted upward as something quickly emerged from under the ground. Alexon raised his arms to attempt to protect himself from the falling debris that was raining down on him at the edge of the crater, his vision obscured by dust as he was pelted with small rocks and pieces of wood. As the dust cleared he could see something rising up from the center of the crater; it was some sort of tower that appeared to be made out of metal, an enormous tower several hundred feet tall. It was then that Alexon realized that he wasn’t looking at a tower, it was an enormous arm. The fist atop the arm slowly opened and the fingers flexed before the hand slammed down to the floor of the crater to gain purchase and begin pulling up the rest of its form. There was another eruption of debris as another arm burst forth and then slammed its hand down and began pulling the same as the first. The broken earth between the two arms began to rise and everything began to shake once more, as the rising debris rose higher it began to drop away from what was underneath slowly revealing a mammoth form. A humanoid upper body straightened itself and the metallic surface shined in the light as the broken earth and debris all fell away; the body had the appearance of heavy armor topped by a helmeted head with four swept-back horns, the face was a blank surface except for two eyes which glowed a brilliant violet. It continued pulling itself up from beneath the ground and soon a leg emerged and rose up to gain enough footing that the rest quickly followed as it stood up. The gargantuan entity stood to its full height revealing itself to be a veritable humanoid mountain, the metal colossus was thousands of feet tall.

 At first Alexon did not know what to make of the being before him; he just stood there in awe of the enormous entity as it seemed to survey the area around it, not even taking notice of the mechatallic staring up at it. Alexon then realized just what he was staring at and for the first time since his awakening two hundred years prior he felt fear. Alexon was staring at The Life Stealer, The Soul Eater, The Dragons' Annihilation.

 "Geon the Doombringer." Alexon said in horror as he stumbled backward.

 Geon raised its hands up to the sky and a slight glowing aura surrounded it before briefly intensifying and expanding outward as a wave of energy flowing from the metal giant. Alexon raised his arms in a futile gesture to block the incoming energy but felt nothing as the wave of power washed over him. As the energy wave hit the trees behind him he heard the cries of animals and saw birds take to the air. As the energy wave continued on for some distance Geon's hands lowered and everything living began glowing with an eerie luminance, everything except for Alexon.

 Streams of some sort of energy began flowing from everything, plant and animal, to Geon and absorbed into the immense entity’s form. Alexon quickly realized that Geon must have been draining everything of its life-force. Alexon himself seemed to be immune; he thought perhaps it was because he was a mechatallic who are not alive in the same way that other things are alive and thus their life can not be stolen in the same way. But Alexon's horror intensified as everything living around him started to fall apart and become a fine white sand; the grass and trees near him simply collapsed into piles of sand, a wolf managed to bolt from the collapsing trees but then crashed to the ground and became a scattering of the sand. Even the birds that had taken to the air simply became clouds of dust and sand raining down from the sky.

 Then Geon began to move, slowly but inexorably taking a step forward, moving eastward as energy continued to flow into it. Alexon finally came to his senses when he saw the direction the Doombriger was heading. He realized that if Geon kept with its present course it would eventually reach the capital while trampling over several towns and villages along the way. Alexon once again extended his wings and fired up his engines, he took to the air pushing himself to go as fast as he could. Geon took no notice of the mechatallic as the small being flew on ahead of it.

 Alexon knew he had absolutely no chance of stopping Geon. If the dragons failed to stop the Doombringer all those centuries ago what chance did he have? Looking down Alexon saw the desert of death spreading below him, spreading out from Geon and slowly moving forward as the gigantic entity moved. It was happening slowly and he quickly outdistanced Geon and its area of life absorption. Alexon knew there was only one thing he could do for the people of Datalus. He would have to stop at each settlement in Geon's path and warn them of the incoming danger, telling them to flee in a direction that would take them out of the range of Geon’s life absorption. With his speed Alexon could easily reach each settlement before Geon came within range. As he altered his course and flew towards the first village in Geon’s path Alexon knew he had to do it, he was the only one who could give the people of Datalus a chance at survival. ********** This is actually from a Dungeons & Dragons setting I've been working on for a very long time (like since the mid-90s, back during 2nd edition) that I call Magestica. A good deal of it is still floating around in my head but I've a fair bit of info written down as well. Recently I decided to do some editing/rewriting/updating of what I had written down to add some more detail and add in some more ideas I've had since first writing things down, including this short little story/scene. And I figured I might as well post it since it's certainly been a while since I've posted something. As for what's going on here... Well as the story tells Geon is a gigantic entity which emerges from underground and absorbs the life energy of everything in the area and along its path. Geon has appears every thousand years at the turn of each millennium rising from the depths and leaving a path of death before sinking back into the ground. This is actually its forth documented appearance. As for Alexon he is a Mechatallic, one of the races I created for my setting. The Mechatallics were discovered about 500 years prior to this event sealed in pods buried in chambers deep under the islands the Gnome inhabit; while nobody, not even the Mechatallics themselves, know exactly how they came to be most guess they were somehow created artificially long ago. There are actually multiple types of Mechatallics of which Alexon is an Air type, one of the rarer types. Anyway I suppose that's it for now feel free to ask questions if you'd like ^_^ If anyone's interested I could post some of the other things I have written down. Though the only other things I have to post at the moment beside this little story are the profiles/info for 3 races; the elves and the two races I created for his setting the Mechatallics and the Tigarra, along with a list of deities.

[tmariea]

We Have No Need to Swim

For Sormik Week Day 4 - Loss

Summary:  What if sea monsters are water seraphim who went down into the ocean and never came back up? They sunk down to the depths to escape the pain of malevolence and grief, and there they fell anyways. They lurk in the darkness, lithe and sinuous, with milky blind eyes and wavering points of bioluminescence, ready to consume anything that comes too close. There is no happy ending.

WARNING: Major Character Death

Read on AO3

It is around year five hundred that the question comes to Mikleo – is there anything left to explore?  Somewhere along the way, he lost count of how many times he had crossed the continent.  He had documented every known ruin, and then gone back to document how they had changed with the deterioration of time.  He had published innumerable books and papers on the subject, reread and reworked them often enough for the words to lose their meaning.

What is one to do when the world loses that fantastic glimmer?  When the one thing that could bring back the light of discovery and novelty slumbers on, for ages unknown?

In the kinds of worries that strike late in the night, pulling sleep from his grasp, he wonders if even Sorey’s return can bring back his sense of wonder.

Other times, when those thoughts crept up the back of his spine, he would seek out Lailah or Edna.  Each were a comfort but in very different ways.  This time he doesn’t.  This time there is a restlessness in his feet that he hasn’t been able to quench for decades, though not for lack of trying, and so he packs a bag and heads out, on the hunt for even one last unseen corner of his world.

He keeps moving, through daylight and under the trail of stars.  The same trail of stars they had watched overhead one night in Lastonbell.  Mikleo had wanted to scream at Sorey for leaving, had wanted to kiss him and beg him to stay.  He hadn’t.  He had been so full of hope, then, full enough to drown out the worries.  He feels he’s done well at keeping hope, but even best efforts can be eroded with time.  He keeps moving; he doesn’t look at the night sky anymore.

He walks and walks until his toes meet the edge of the ocean tide, and looks across.  There is nothing but water as far as the eye can see.  And that is when Mikleo gets an idea.  What exists under the ocean, where no one has ever seen?  It is not as if he has ever had trouble breathing within his own element.  He leaves his pack on the shore, aside from a small notebook and some charcoal that he can use artes to protect from water damage, and takes his first steps into the surf.

It is beautiful in the depths of the ocean, like nothing Mikleo has ever experienced before.  It feels new.  The light is different in the way it shifts under the force of the waves above.  The creatures are different, in the schools of fish that come swimming up to him cautiously and curiously, only to dart away at the slightest movement.  He spends days carefully sketching them in his book, barely shifting aside from his hand.  The press of the water on his limbs feels like an embrace, and the way his hair drifts in the currents feels like gentle fingers on his scalp.  It’s been eons since he felt these things, and he is loath to give them up.

He doesn’t.

Mikleo leaves his spot near where he entered the water and begins to travel down the coast.  He is fascinated by the geography of the ocean floor, the way the water shapes the sediment, and the rocks.  Gentle waters create sloping sands which lead back up to the surface.  Where the waves are harsh, they crash against the rocks above.  There is the sound of their beat in his ears, murkier waters before his eyes, and plenty of rough ground to stumble on under his feet.  When it gets too bad, he swims instead.  Sometimes, cliffs drop sheer into the water, and if he goes far enough out, there’s a cliff under the ocean as well.  That drops off harshly and into darkness; Mikleo decides to leave that place be, for now.

He loves feeling the barest changes in pressure as the tides roll in and out.  He’s always had a faint sense for the moon, but here it is stronger than ever.  He can feel the way it shapes his environment, shapes the water.  The moon, he thinks, must be a water seraph.  Then, he laughs at himself for the fanciful notions.  That is the kind of image Sorey would have loved, he thinks, then notices the past tense and corrects himself.  Sorey will love that image, some day.

He jots a note in the back pages of his book, separate from his observations of the ocean floor, and then tamps down anything he might feel on the matter.

Mikleo hasn’t been keeping track of time well, but he thinks he has spent a few months under the water when he comes upon the ruin.  He can feel his heart soaring, in a way that it hasn’t in ages.  This is a new ruin, new history, new things to explore and build theories on.  It’s exactly what he had been missing before.  He wonders who lived there.  He wonders how this place came to be under the sea.

There is an open archway leading inside, and Mikleo walks through, after taking a moment to brush his hands along the frame.  Between the creatures that have made their home there, he can make out patterns.  They are long since worn down by the constant sway of the ocean, but he will have to come back later, to see what he can find.

Just inside the hall, it is dark.  Not much sun finds its way to the ocean floor anyway, and none inside this ruin.  Mikleo summons mana in his palm, calling on it to glow.  Once he has a sufficient ball, he sends it towards the ceiling, and then makes a second for himself to carry.  Even this doesn’t fully illuminate the space, although he gasps in delight at the what he can see.  The ceiling soars several stories high, and is decorated by delicate, beautiful vaulting.  In a way it reminds him of the Sanctuary in Ladylake, but there’s something slightly different, too.  He will have to swim up and examine them later.  For now, he heads towards the ground story walls, where his light catches on the curves of engravings and casts the dips into shadow.

Mikleo is examining the fresco he found - which is a fascinating mix of styles, parts harkening to Temperance of Avarost while others, strikingly, bear a resemblance to the art which arose during his own Age of Chaos despite the fact that it must be thousands of years old - when he feels a domain brush his own.  It’s the last thing he expected to find down here in the depths of the ocean.  He whirls to face the room, hair floating softly in the eddies caused by his sudden movement.  His eyes strain against the darkness, as the outline of a figure wavers across the vast space.  He summons his staff and holds it at the ready, waiting for the figure to approach.

It is a woman who comes into his light, moving in a way that glides more than she walks or swims, with tendrils of blue hair drifting around and in front of her face.  As they shift, he can see that the tips of her ears have turned to fins, and the pupils of her eyes are slits and milky with near-blindness.  She raises a hand in greeting, and there are blue webs between her clawed fingers, blue fins along her forearms, and the glint of scales visible through the patches in her deteriorating robes.

“Can you put out the light?  It’s too bright,” she says.  Her voice sounds scratchy, unused, even through the way the water distorts sound.  He suspects if it was not their element, they would not be able to understand each other at all.

“Ah, okay,” Mikleo says and lets the light above them shrink and fade.  He lets the one near him fade, but not go out, and keeps his staff at the ready; while the seraph might be acting calm, she looks as if she has been tainted.  “Who are you?”

“My name is Amelia.  Although, it has been a long time since I have had reason to say it.”

“I’m Mikleo,” he ventures, for the sake of politeness, and then wonders if a half-tained seraph would have any care for manners.  He nearly snorts at the strange thought, but holds it in.  For a moment more, the two of them look at each other, just as wary as before, before Mikleo asks the question burning in his mind, “How did you come to be here?”

Amelia blinks, and the fins on her arms twitch, as if she is anxious or unsure.  “We came here to escape the malevolence of the world above, when it became too much.”  She must have some sight left, despite her milky eyes, because her face twists and she laughs as Mikleo winces.  The laugh is a hollow, grinding thing, like waves against the rocks.  It is not pleasant, but even more than that, it is frightening; it contains no emotion at all.  Mikleo clutches his staff until his knuckles turn white, and wills himself to hold his ground and not take a step back.

“It didn’t work, as you can see,” she finally finishes, once her bout of strange laughter is done.

“The world above is much more pure now,” Mikleo blurts out.

She stares him down, without blinking this time, and then says, “That is a nice thought.  I am glad.  But it is not one for me.”

A moment of silence passes, and then another.  Amelia does not seem inclined to say more, or to move just yet.  Finally, Mikleo clears his throat and asks, “We?”

“There were more of us once.”

And he knows.  He knows exactly why there are no others here with her.  He asks anyway, “How?”

She laughs her awful, soulless laugh again and Mikleo forces himself not to cringe.  “How am I the only one left?”

That wasn’t what he had meant, but he is not willing to correct her.

Amelia shrugs.  “Some fall faster than others. Those who hold sorrow or darkness in their hearts, perhaps. I'm one of the lucky ones. Or maybe, I'm not.”

Suddenly Mikleo doesn’t want to talk to this woman anymore.  Standing in front of him is a fate that he has spent his life pushing back against, that Sorey had sacrificed himself to prevent.  And here it is still.  He feels the last five hundred years spent alone - and for what? - laying heavy on him.  He feels sick to his stomach.

She studies him for a moment more, eyes narrowing and ear fins twitching.  “Stay away from the depths,” she warns, and it sounds like mourning.  “Stay away from the older ones, the darker ones.  There is nothing left there.”  And then, Amelia turns and walks away, out of his light, and taking the feeling of her domain with her, wrapped tight around her shoulders like a cloak.

In the time that Mikleo spends scouring every inch of the entrance hall and the rooms nearby, he does not meet Amelia again.  It seems she is just as content to stay away as he is to have her gone.  Although, he does always keep the senses in his domain alert for any other surprises that might come along.

From time to time, schools of fish swim in and out.  These he likes, and always takes some time away from his study to coax them close and let them swim between his fingers and hair.  Their cool, smooth bodies and vibrant, tiny lives are grounding.  They move so fast, reminding him of the time passing in a way that he often forgets.  He tries to rack his brain for how long he has been under the water, and comes up short.

He doesn’t mind that as much as he thought he would.  He remembers the way time was starting to drag before he came down into the ocean, so he could do with a little bit of feeling like it’s flying by.

At any rate, the ruin is vast and there is much more to be explored.  By questing with his own domain, he believes that there are several upper stories and a basement, perhaps two, in this vast place.  Upper floors are the way to go, he thinks as he approaches a grand, soaring stairway and begins to ascend.  Superstition can’t help but tell him that there will be darker things, more things like Amelia, down below.

And yet, something in him is still not surprised when, several rooms into his grand exploration of the second floor, he finds a monstrous creature.  Or, really, it’s not so much that Mikleo finds the monster, than the monster finds him.  He is narrowly saved by the feeling in the water of the thing’s passing, and reflexes which make him bring his staff up to block as it rams into him.

This thing is all teeth, rows and rows of them, and tiny, milky eyes, and wicked-sharp looking spines.  For half of a panicked second, he remembers a frightening, hollow laugh, but then he realizes this thing is small, and for all its fierce appearance, not very powerful.  Mikleo gathers the water before him, chills it hard and fast enough that it freezes despite the salt in the water, and waits for the monster to attack again.

It circles for a moment before charging again, and runs head-first into Mikleo’s ice spear.  It shakes itself, shrieks in a way that makes the water all around him shudder, and then turns tail to slink off.

Mikleo is careful, reaching forward with all of the senses at his disposal before he tries to enter the room the monster came from, again.  It seems to be empty.  He guides one of his lights inside, and steps up to the doorway before he freezes.  Inside, there is a dark purple miasma slowly pulsing and twisting in its own mindless hunger.  There are eons of hurt here, little eddies and pockets of it that drift about on the currents like dark jellyfish.  They had always known they needed to purify the land, but who would ever think to purify the sea?

His heart thumps madly, painfully in his chest. There has been so much work done, to purify the land.  And yet, this reminds him of nothing so much as the cities of Glennwood when he and Sorey first set out from Elysia centuries ago.  And this is just one room, in one ruin, in the vast ocean.  How much of the water is infused with malevolence, how much of it has he touched?  If things are still like this here, how in the world will Sorey ever cleanse enough of the world to wake?

That is not a thought to be thinking.  Instead, he swirls the water in the room into a cyclone to chase away the patches of malevolence.  It goes streaming past him as he directs it away.  Inside, there are more fascinating carvings, similar to the ones in the grand hall below.  Even without looking closely, he has a thrill up his spine that these ones might help him unlock answers.

He decides, even though there is malevolence here, that he will stay.

Mikleo hasn’t written in his notebook as much as he once has.  The beginning, when he flips through, is packed full of sketches of fish and notes in a tiny exacting hand on comparisons of art and architecture between historical periods and the periods in which he has lived.  The notes are still tiny and exacting in the later half, but it certainly took him several times the amount of time that it did to fill the front, especially since he’s collected plenty enough on the art style here to put together some answers.  When he reaches the last page, he finds a note, to tell Sorey that he once had the silly notion that the moon was a water seraph.  Until then, he hadn’t even remembered the thought.

Mikleo looks at the page for a moment, decides that he will not write anything more there, and shuts the book.  He slides it into the pouch on his belt, still wrapped in magical protections.  The thought that he should return to the surface for another is gone from his mind almost as fast as it came.  Besides, it’s become hard to write anymore with the webbing slowly creeping between his fingers.

There is a day, when he leans close to a section of wall, to examine an old trap.  It’s no longer a danger to him - the rope connecting the mechanism has long-since rotted away.  But it’s fascinating anyway.  As he looks, his eyes begin to hurt.  He rubs them, feeling his fingers skim along the tiny ridges forming underneath.  The ridges had concerned him once, but not anymore.  The touch does not help with his eyes, though.

He thinks that maybe he has been looking at fine detail too long, and that they need a rest.  He turns away from the wall only to come face to face with one of his glowing spheres.  The light is harsh on his hurting eyes this close.  He’s always kept two with him, one for up close and one to illuminate the wider spaces, so he thinks it might not be a bad thing to put one of them out for now, while he rests.  He lets it fade, and breathes a sigh of relief.

He has been practicing finer control of sensing his surroundings in the water.  There are things his eyes miss these days; probably his eyes have always missed things, but the water - it’s in everything.  It misses nothing.

That is probably the reason he feels the creature in the water first, knows the shape of it to be like a man, before he ever senses the domain of a seraph.  He is shocked; the last time he felt something of the like was when he met Amelia again a few months - years? - ago.  Even then, she had hardly felt like a seraph anymore, and certainly nothing like this one, who is pure to the core, and in some way familiar.

He decides his curiosity is enough to venture up from the basement level where he has spent most of his time lately, back up the grand staircases and out to the hall, where this one waits.

As he makes his way through the series of halls and rooms, he feels something flash by his cheek.  It makes beautiful trails in the water with its passing.  It takes him a moment to realize it’s a fish, and he feels something strange in his chest when he can’t remember the last time he saw one.  He does remember, though, feeling them dart around him, and in and out of his fingers.  When the next one passes him by, he snatches it from his path, with the aid of the webbing on his fingers and a twist he makes in the water.  He feels it wriggle against his palm for a moment, the smooth, coolness of its scales.  He wonders what it might be like to eat it, but then he lets the fish go and continues on.

There in the entrance hall is the owner of the domain.  He senses it is a man, shorter than him but not by much, and sees with what failing eyesight he has left that the man is swathed in blue.  Although, it is hard to tell through the light.

“Mikleo,” the man says.

He blinks, tries to think when it was he last heard that name.  He tries to think of who this man is.  He looks up towards the ceiling, and remembers this man in a similar place once, another grand room with grand vaulting and a sweeping roof.  “Uno,” he says back.

“I was sent to look for you, by Lailah and the others.  Although, Edna claims no interest in this endeavor.”

“Ah,” he says, and his mind runs through a hundred bored expressions, more often than not hidden away a moment later by an umbrella.  He thinks he says, “that’s just like her,” but when he looks back at Uno, blinking against the lights the other seraph has brought with him, he can’t be sure.

“They want you to come home.”  His senses in the water tell him Uno’s mouth and eyes are twisted with some kind of emotion.

Before he can even truly feel the word on his tongue, he’s saying, “No.”

“Brother,” Uno says, “can you truly say that this is you speaking, and not the malevolence?  I know the things it will make you do.”

He wracks his brain, his memories of the world above.  Edna is easy, since Uno mentioned her, she is her teasing and snide comments, but also in the way her voice cracks when she is truly worried for someone she claims not to love.  Lailah, she is warmth, and bad jokes, and a teacher despite her sometimes childish ways.  Zaveid is an old, solid presence, for all he tries to hide it under all of the flirting.  The memories are warm, but his heart twists in his chest to think of missing them, to think of how they would see him now.  He clutches his elbows, feeling the scales there under his fingertips.

And then, and then there is the one who is not there.  Sorey.  He is ruins, and bright green eyes, and falling asleep together as children.  He is sparring together, and tickle fights, and the only person Mikleo has ever kissed.  He is books, and a heart that welcomes in all he meets, and he is sacrifice.  And he is gone.  For more years, more centuries, than he ever got to live.

He no longer trusts that Sorey will be coming back.

His heart twists again, and it’s worse this time.  There’s a name to it, too.  Loneliness, sorrow, despair.  All feelings that spawn malevolence; all feelings malevolence spawns.  It is a vicious cycle, he thinks, and it is not a new thought.  He has thought it many times over the years, but this is the first time that he adds, what a cruel world .  Perhaps it is better to stay down in the dark and the silence.  He can’t escape it now, oh no, but he would no longer have to see others suffer for it.  No one would have to suffer when he, too, succumbs.

Finally, he looks back to Uno, who has waited in silence for his answer.  “I am the one speaking,” he says, as clear and as strong as he can.

“It would be a shame to lose a good water seraph. And a good friend.  You won’t reconsider?”

“No.”  He waits, for Uno to say something else.  When there is only silence, he adds, “I’m tired, Uno.  Tired of waiting for something which will never come.”

There must have been something in his face, because Uno sighs, and nods.  “I have strict orders to bring you back, you know.  But if this is truly your choice, I will respect it.  Lailah will roast me alive when I come back empty handed.”

“I am sorry,” he says, and he does feel it.

He watches, as Uno turns to go.  A moment later, he calls, “Uno!” and reaches to his belt for his notebook.  It’s been eons since he’s thought of the thing, but hearing him speak about returning empty handed reminded him.  At least some part of him must have remembered, though, because his artes are still firmly in place to keep it safe from the water.  He holds it out when the other seraph turns back to him, feels a second set of artes wrap around it, and lets go of his own.  “Give this to him,” he says.

Uno nods, takes the book, and turns away again.

He stays to watch Uno leave.  This won’t be the last, he thinks.  Lailah will find another water seraph to come retrieve him, and the next perhaps won’t be willing to leave him in peace.

Perhaps it is time to move on.  He walks out of the ruin once he can no longer feel Uno’s domain.  The light outside is nearly blinding, and so he closes his eyes, puts out his own lightt, and uses the water to guide him.  Where to go, which will be dark and hidden?  There are further depths, down the cliff in the water.

As he glides through the towering gate, he stops for a moment to run his hands along the sides, to feel the patterns under his fingertips between the creatures clinging there.  He never got the chance to come back and examine them.  He thinks he should be disappointed by this, but instead he just feels empty.

Later, when he reaches the cliffs, he doesn’t bother to create a new light for himself.

Light is a thing he knows as glowing points of blue.  They adorn his body in swirling trails, occasionally flicking in and out of vision as his body undulates in the current.  Other creatures come to it.  They slink through the darkness, into his small light, with eyes blurred and senses dulled and he eats them all.

Which is why it is so strange when another creature comes that makes its own light.  It’s a small thing, although not as small as some, but its light is so bright as it floods his milky eyes.  They feel like they’re searing out of his skull.  He hasn’t seen anything this bright since the days of sunlight.  That is a word that the ancient parts of him know, that the rest of him no longer understands.

But this creature, this man, is sunlight.  The brightest, most wonderful and most painful thing he has ever known.

He freezes when the man reaches out to touch him.  Nothing has touched him like this in eons, with gentleness and no fear.  “Oh Mikleo, what has become of you?”  Sound does not carry right through water, but he hears anyway.

That word, that name.  He’s heard it before, perhaps in a dream.  In a dream of sunlight, and air and this man.  There is noise in his head now, beating on his skull.  There are words there, trying to fight their way out of a mind that no longer understands, a mouth that can no longer shape them.  His heart beats fast.  He can feel this man’s heartbeat in the vibrations of the water.  It is fast too, but familiar, and that hurts.  Everything is hurt and confusion.  He wants it to all be quiet and dark again.

Because if it is not quiet and dark, then he has to remember what he was, what he has become, and what could have been – what they could have been.

The man is still touching him.  He’s speaking again, and no, no, stop, no more words.  He cannot take more words – they claw at him, wrench out these feelings that he cannot bear.  But he hears them anyway, because the world is not kind or merciful, and the man says, “I have searched for you for so long.  Won’t you come home?”

And there is a wave of anger.  “I have no home.  You left!” screams the ancient part of him.  Tries to scream it through his mouth, but it comes out as a roar.  There is no sound in the water, but the vibrations shake the stones on the sides of his trench; they come crashing down.  The man doesn’t flee; he clutches closer.

That touch seems to burn, that light burns, those thoughts crashing through his mind burn him from the inside out.  The ancient parts of him are still screaming.  They are crying and wailing and trying to claw their way out of these scales and fins and this cloud of darkness.  Anguish and the most bittersweet joy rise up and crash over him like waves, and he’s going to be dragged under.  He just wants it all to stop.  He reaches forward, to impose silence and darkness and a stilling of his thoughts in the only way he can now.

Somewhere in the depths of the ocean, a light goes out.  It is unnoticed, but for the small flock of creatures that had begun to swim towards its alluring glow.  They turn back now, interest lost.  Beneath them, a creature settles back into the darkness and the solitude, and wills his thoughts to stop and his heart to turn to stone.

[poolenick-blog]

Nepal is a historic and natural wonder of sorts, so you could imagine how ecstatic I was when I had the chance to visit this amazing destination last year whilst I did various fun things to do in Kathmandu!

FYI: To best clarify the difference between Kathmandu city and Kathmandu Valley, you must first understand that the Kathmandu Valley is made up of 3 beautiful ancient cities, namely: Kathmandu (the largest city and capital), Lalitpur (also called as Patan), and Bhaktapur — .

As such, these 3 places that make up the Kathmandu Valley have an enthralling mix of sights, smells and sounds, as well as an awe-inspiring number of temple complexes and squares. As a matter of fact, this 220sqm region has become a place that has the densest concentration of UNESCO World Heritage Sites in the world!

That being said, for such an intoxicating place like this, you would surely need to be on top of the best things to do in Kathmandu city or the valley as a whole. But fret not, because with the guide below, you will be making the most of your time here as you base yourself in the capital city of Kathmandu!

Come and check out my list of the ‘Best Hotels in Kathmandu‘ which features the top recommended choices for cheap to luxurious accommodation choices.

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Things to Do in Kathmandu

 – Visit the city’s key landmarks

Boudhanath, Swayambhunath and Durbar Square from Shutterstock.com With such a dynamic city like Kathmandu, there are definitely a lot of attractions or landmarks that are worth seeing, but to start off, below are some of the spots that you absolutely must NOT miss!

NOTE: *★ – A UNESCO World Heritage Site

★ Pashupatinath: This is a sacred Hindu temple complex which serves as the seat of Nepal’s national deity, Lord Shiva (one of the principal deities of Hinduism in which Pashupatinath or Pashupathi is one of his given names). As the oldest Hindu temple in the city, you will find a sprawling mix of temples, ashrams (spiritual monasteries), images, and inscriptions from the moment that you set foot in this place. TIP: 

If you want a unique experience, you can visit in the morning to see them do cremations or visit in the evening from 6PM to see the aarti (worship with fire).

Swayambhunath: This is an ancient religious architecture that contains shrines, temples, a stupa, a Tibetan monastery, a museum, and a library — moreover, it is also surrounded by ‘holy monkeys’ (as per mythology) which made it gain the nickname: ‘Monkey Temple’. Although this site is considered Buddhist, it remains to be revered by both Buddhist and Hindus. TIP:

To get a great panoramic view of the stupa, enter the Tamang Gompa monastery. Meanwhile, for a less crowded environment, it’s best to come either early in the morning or early in the evening.

Garden of Dreams or Swapna Bagaicha: If you want to find a space that is away from the hustle and bustle of Kathmandu, the serene atmosphere of the beautifully-restored neo-classical Swapna Bagaicha or Garden of Dreams will be your wanted respite. In here, you can enjoy a vast garden that has 3 pavillions, an amhitheater, ponds, urns, and pergolas (walkways).

Wanna do a guided Kathmandu tour?

With the help of a local guide, you can take part in a 7-hour Kathmandu day tour which will cover all of the city’s top highlights and UNESCO spots. To book your spot, go here.

#2 – Go through Thamel and have some fun!

If you’re looking for the liveliest commercial neighborhood in the city, you only need to head to Thamel which is distinguished for its narrow alleys that are filled with various buildings and vendors: clubs, hotels, hostels, pubs, restaurants, shops, tour operators, and more — you really will find almost everything here!

To fill up your itinerary, below is a list of recommended things to do in Kathmandu’s Thamel:

Go shopping: Bring home some souvenirs and gifts by browsing through the array of colorful shawls, jewelry, statues, paintings, etc. As for my tip? Haggle hard if you want to get a fair and good price. As a standard, aim to ask for half or a 3rd of their original quoted price. (But if I you’re not too privy like me wherein you wouldn’t mind giving some extra help to the locals — even if they’re not being exactly fair with the price — it’s fine to skip on the bargaining.) Do some classes or workshops: There are a number of shops in Thamel that can, for instance, teach you how to cook Nepali cuisine, do Buddhist thangka paintings, make woodcarvings, and more. You could even enroll in an amazing yoga class or retreat! Your activity choices are absolutely endless.

TIP:

If you’re rather looking for authentic bazaar-esque places, head on over to either Asan, Indrachok or Mangal bazaars. #3 – Fly above the Himalayas and Mt. Everest

Mt Everest from Shutterstock.com Let’s face it: a lot of us are NOT prepared to scale the summit of the world’s highest peak; so thankfully, as part of your things to do in Kathmandu, there are providers in Nepal that gives anyone the chance to get a bit close to the Himalayas and see the beauty that is Mt. Everest.

Of course, nothing beats the experience of trekking up to the summit or to the Everest Base Camp — BUT, if you can’t do that, then why not just fly there, right? Besides, you’ll be among the lucky few who can get to witness this majestic mountain range from up high in just a few hundred meters away!

Yet… as you would expect, this is NOT entirely cheap; but for sure, it will certainly be worth it!

Lasting from 45 minutes to an hour, most flights start from around $50 and there are 2 options for you to choose from: doing it by helicopter or by plane. There are a lot of tour operators who offer helicopter rides, but when it comes to aerial rides, there are 3 airlines who are well-known for doing it: Buddha Air, Guna Air and Yeti Air.

Wanna book an Everest flight?

For a hassle-free experience, you can book your Everest mountain flight here. Subject to schedule availability, this flight tour will be made through Buddha Air, Yeti Air or Simrik Air.

TIP: Book a flight during the earliest part of the day for the leat chance of getting cloudy or bad weather.

NOTE: If in case you don’t have the budget to fly nor the capacity to hike/trek, there is another option for you to see Mt. Everest “up close”. Aside from the obvious fact that you just go to places or towns that have a clear view of the Himalayas, you can also get an ‘aerial glimpse’ from up high on the plane when you get in or get out of Nepal — provided that you pick the right seat.

For example, if you’re flying to Nepal from Southeast Asia, reserve a window seat on the right (those labeled letter K, for example). And when flying back to Southeast Asia from Nepal, go for the left seats (letter A’s). You can always ask for tips from the airline you’re flying with to be sure!

#4 – Enjoy the natural landscape through outdoor activities

River Rafting from Shutterstock.com As a part of your things to do in Kathmandu, you should make sure that you also grab the chance of enjoying the city’s surrounding natural terrain by doing the following outdoor activities…

Hiking/Trekking: There are a number of amazing hikes that you can do around the valley such as Chisapani, Champadevi, Nagarkot, and Nagarjun. You could also go to to the high peaks of Shivapuri National Park, or if you are up for a longer hike, there is a 6-day trek from Kathmandu to Langtang National Park (the st Himalayan national park in Nepal). All in all, I can assure you that the sights will be stunning — more so when you get to see the surrounding terrain during sunrise or sunset. river rafting tour that goes through Trishuli River which connects the city of Kathmandu to Pokhara. To reserve your spot for this adventure, go here. Rock climbing: If you’re looking for something to climb that is not Mt. Everest, there are several options for you in the heart of Kathmandu. First up, in case you are not ready yet to go for natural cliffs, there is an Astrek Climbing Wall in Thamel. Otherwise, great natural climbing cliffs can be found at Hattiban (Pharping) and Nagarjun. #5 – Explore nearby cities and towns

Nagarkot and Patan from Shutterstock.com Wanna fully escape the traffic and urban setting found in Kathmandu? There are several charming towns and cities that you could explore during your time there.

Bhaktapur: As one of the ancient cities that make up Kathmandu Valley, you will enjoy how this place has the most temples per square kilometer in Nepal! Truth be told, it has the best-preserved palace courtyards and old city center in the country. TRANSPORTATION:

(Less than hour away). Ride a bus at Bagbazar or Ratna Park that costs about 50 NPR (less than $), or get a taxi that will cost you around ,000 NPR one way ($9~). (Otherwise, you can also join a Bhaktapur Tour with a stopover at Patan here). TRANSPORTATION: (30 minutes away). Ride a bus at Ratna Park or a blue/green bus at Ring Road which will cost about 5 NPR (less than $). Taxis, on the other hand, will be about 200 NPR ($2~). (Otherwise, you can also join a Patan Tour with a stopover at Bhaktapur here). TRANSPORTATION: (Less than hour away). It’s preferable to get a day tour that covers both of these villages. To reserve a spot, go here. TRANSPORTATION:

(Less than 2 hours away). Ride a bus from Ratna for around 60 NPR (less than $~). Taking a taxi will be more expensive at about 2,500 NPR ($24~). TRANSPORTATION: (Less than 2 hours away). Ride a bus at Bakhtapur Bus Terminal at Ratna Park, and from Bhaktapur you can get to Nagarkot (total of about 70 NPR or less than $~). Since this can be quite a hassle, it’s rather best to get a private car for hire or a taxi which can be around 3,000 NPR ($30~). TRANSPORTATION: (About 30 minutes). Ride a bus at Ratna Park for less than 50 NPR (less than $~) or get a taxi for approximately 500 NPR ($5~). .title-bar:after, .title-bar:before, .title-bar:after, .title-bar:before, h2{ border-color: }

Pre-Travel Guide

When is the best time to visit Nepal? Below are the prominent 4 seasons in Nepal…

Spring: March to May with pleasant temperature averaging from 6ºC to 23ºC. This is the 2nd most popular season with its warmer days and flower blooms such as the rhododendrons which is the national flower of Nepal. The only con for traveling during this time is that there’s higher chance of haze that will obscure the mountains from lower elevations.

Summer: June to August, hot and wet, averaging from 23ºC to 30ºC. There is high humidity and there’s rain almost every day so it’s not an ideal time to visit especially if you want to explore the nature. (But city visits is fine since there will be lesser crowds).

Autumn: September to November with cooler temperatures, averaging 5ºC to 25ºC. This is the best tourist season given that the weather is more pleasant, bringing in clearer views of the mountains. Furthermore, big Hindu festivals like Dashain and Tihar happen during these months so it can get quite lively.

Winter: December to February with cool weather averaging 9ºC to 2ºC. This is also the season where the skies are clear, but just make sure that you are well prepared especially when going out on treks since the temperature drops significantly at night time.

Where to get the best flight promos to Kathmandu? My go-to platform for grabbing the best flight deals is Skyscanner since it scans all possible airlines that fly to and from your destination. I can even set up alerts so that it notifies me when the prices suddenly drop or rise.

Nepal’s main international getaway is Tribhuvan International Airport (KTM) which is located about 6km from Kathmandu city. In order to get to the center (such as that of Thamel), you can arrange a hotel transfer, a prepaid taxi (approx. 700~ NPR), a regular taxi (approx. 400~ NPR), or a bus (approx. NPR 0~).

How to change your money into Nepal currency? Nepal’s currency is called as Nepalese Rupee (NPR). I highly advice that you do NOT exchange your money at the airport since the rates there are totally not competitive. What should you rather do? Either exchange your money or US dollars at a bank or at a money exchanger in your home country or in Kathmandu’s thamel; or better yet, just withdraw from an ATM with your debit/credit card. Remember to keep the exchange receipt because you will need it when you need to change back your NPR to your original currency. Rate exchange: USD $ = NPR 03~ = Php 50~

Where to best stay (for accommodations)? Budget: Shangrila Boutique Hotel (or see HostelWorld for complete list of Kathmandu hostels) Mid-Range: Kantipur Temple House Luxury: Hyatt Regency Kathmandu

To see a complete list of the top recommended accommodation chances ranging from cheap to luxury places, check out this post of the ‘Best Hotels in Kathmandu‘.

How can I go around Kathmandu? Some places can be reached by foot, but since it can get quite chaotic due to the lack of street names, it’s best to either get a rickshaw especially if you don’t have Google Maps on hand to navigate your way as you execute the above list of things to do in Kathmandu.

Rickshaws can be found everywhere and prices can start at 5 NPR — but it’s highly likely that the driver will set a higher price, so feel free to haggle. Meanwhile, taxis and green or blue buses are more ideal if you want to go to far places inside or outside of the Kathmandu Valley. Taxis are also not that hard to find especially in the day (it gets harder at night though) and cost can start at 300~ NPR if, let’s say, you want to get to Patan. As for buses, you can find them around the city or on the ‘Ring Road’ and the cost can start from 20 NPR. Just take note that the buses are quite old and it’s not entirely comfortable.

Should I get a visa to visit Nepal? Yes, ALL foreigners (except Indians) are required to have a visa to visit Nepal. Rest assured, the process is fairly easy and fast. To know the whole process and details, see my ‘How to Apply for a Nepal Visa on Arrival‘ guide.

Helpful Nepali phrases Many local Nepalese have no difficulties speaking English as a second language, and it becomes more prevalent when you’re in the capital of Kathmandu. But of course, it doesn’t hurt to learn a bit of Nepali.

Hello: Namaste / Namaskār ((Nah-MAH-stay / Nah-MAH-skar) Thank you: Dhanyavād (DHAN-naii-bat) Yes: Hajur / Ho (HA-jur / HO) No: Chaina / Haina (Chai-NA / Hai-Na) Goodbye: Namaste / Namaskār ((Nah-MAH-stay / Nah-MAH-skar) .title-bar:after, .title-bar:before, .title-bar:after, .title-bar:before, h2{ border-color: }

Overall

Much like what I experienced, I hope that this list of things to do in Kathmandu will help you capture the best of the valley’s cultural and natural highlights.

Sure enough, there is a dizzying number of activities and sights for you in this destination but I can guarantee you that the things listed above will already give you a great Nepal experience that will be worth your time and money. Enjoy!

Photo above and feature photo of Patan from Shutterstock.com DISCLOSURE: Thank you so much to the Himalayan Travel Mart 207, PATA and PTBA for making this Nepal trip happen.

How about you?

Would you like to visit Kathmandu? Why or why not

What things to do in Kathmandu would you best like to do or see?

Or have you been here before? Do you have any other tips to add?

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The post Top 5 Amazing Things to Do in Kathmandu City & Valley (Nepal) appeared first on I am Aileen.

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Laugharne, Saundersfoot, Waterwynch, Tenby, Manorbier, Caldey Island, Stackpole Quay, Barafundle Bay, St David’s … names redolent of the far West of the Pembrokeshire coast of Wales.

Coastlines are fascinating spaces. The combination of liminal land, shifting sands, and variable weather parallel our existence.

Fluctuating and evolving.

Surprising.

Changing … yet remaining somehow eternal in the face of change too, solid, like the rocks that rear up out of the sea.

Eternal Change

The southern Wales coastline is much underrated. That’s a sad mistake in my view.

As southern England slept the sleep of the Dark Ages, here the fusion of Celtic and Romano British culture thrived, with writers like Gildas in the early 6th century writing The Fall and Conquest of Britain in polished, elegant and precise Latin. Written partly as a paean to the departing legions, it was also an exemplar to the local Celtic nobility filling the void the Romans left, and was intended to galvanise them against the approaching Saxon threat.

It was also at this time, long before St Augustine’s mission to England towards the end of the 6th century to convert the ‘heathens’, that St David’s was founded as a Cathedral. St Catherine’s Island off Tenby had a chapel dedicated to the saint of spinners and weavers at about the same time. Numerous holy places named for Saints not recognised by the Church in Rome, but known to the Welsh and Irish, flourished and testify to a thriving pre-existing Christian tradition. The sanction of the church in Rome or any other ‘higher’ external authority was not sought here. But neither was this an insular, backward place.

Today St David’s has a woman Bishop, the first in these islands. Trade and culture are as entwined with Ireland or Western Europe today as they once were when this was one of the centres of the Celtic world.

Southern Wales’ supposedly ‘grimy’ quality could not be further from the truth.

  Which brings me to food …

Anyone familiar with this blog knows about my obsessions – food, art, history, culture, social anthropology …

Food preserves the traces of cultures and interactions better than anything else. Along the Pembrokeshire coast it’s no different.

In this coastal region, wild fish and seafood predominates alongside extensive dairy production. Beef, Poultry and Pork follow closely alongside a simple but satisfyingly diverse range of vegetables and herbs which grow profusely in the gentle Atlantic Gulf Stream climate.

The growing season here is longer than in most parts on the UK

The distance from field to fork less than in most parts of the country

A long-standing Italian population has established a tradition of ice cream making and delicatessen which matches anything available in London

The supply chains for supermarkets and their heavily centralised systems, too long to sustain a large scale presence

What might seem a curse in a city like London is, here, a blessing …

Independent and highly localised trade predominates and helps sustain a demotic food culture.

This being South Wales, there was less Lamb than people might expect of Wales. Lamb husbandry takes place mainly in central and North Wales, where the upland pasture is used to provide a long feeding season for the animals and where land is cheaper.

Add to the mix the long-standing trade connections with North West France, Spain and the Mediterranean, and you have a richly varied cuisine, augmented by small scale brewing and distilleries making high quality gin, and a culture of delicatessen providing foods from (or in the style of) France, Spain and Italy.

The ingredients are in place …

I made gorgeous fresh, sweet scallops while in Tenby and combined them with Chorizo. It’s an amazing combination of flavour and texture, and was offset with a mild, elegant, green pea puree. The Chorizo was sparingly used, allowing the delicate flavour of the scallops and the pea puree to shine. A golden rule for a marvellous result.

Here goes …

I used around 35 g of Chorizo, cubed (keep them tiny so they crunch up when cooked) – these I then fried in a griddle pan with a tiny amount of olive oil (the fat in Chorizo is released as it cooks so you really don’t need much)

I used 10 scallops (5 each), which I had washed, and then rubbed gently with olive oil and fresh ground black pepper before setting them aside for a couple of hours

I took around 150g of freshly shelled peas (you can use frozen, but nothing beats fresh as we had it) and placed in a pot of salted boiling water along with a fat, fresh, clove of generous garlic (skin on) for around 2 – 3 minutes

Then I drained the peas, setting aside a little water for later (and taking out the garlic and setting that aside too) …

I then treated myself to a sip of Picpoul de Pinet from the sun baked limestone plateau between Agde, Pézenas and Sète in the Languedoc region of southern France (between Montpellier and Narbonne).

Bone dry, Picpoul is usually crystal clear with green highlights perfect to pair with seafood. Older vines can create a golden hued wine which I find is usually better with cheese. It’s a soft wine, delicate on the nose, with hints of fresh ‘green’ blossom with a an excellent acid/structure balance.

I digress – Back to the recipe … 

Now that the garlic had cooled, I peeled it easily, half squeezing the soft, buttery garlic out into a bowl the process. I added the warm peas and a couple of table spoons of the water they cooked in, and then added a table spoon of salted butter and a teaspoon of olive oil. I then mashed the lot, mixing as I mashed to create an unctuous green mess. I tasted it and felt it needed a little black pepper and a touch of salt so added these – it’s really up to you. I did so because I wanted a certain sharpness to cut through the smoky Chorizo and the buttery/creamy sweetness of the scallops.

Before cooking the scallops I roughly wiped down the pan I had cooked the Chorizo in – I wanted some of the flavour to remain, just not too much. To aid cooking the scallops I added a table spoon of olive oil and heated the pan up on a high heat, and then popped the scallops on for just under a minute. I then took the scallops off the pan – they mustn’t stay in a hot pan as they’ll just get rubbery if overcooked – they should be soft and yielding.

With the back of a tablespoon I popped a couple of generous blobs of pea puree on each plate. With the back of the spoon I smeared them into a ‘swish’

On top, I plonked 5 scallops and then the crispy, smoky Chorizo cubes with a little of the oil they had released …

Now, this is optional, but I think it works – I then took a fat red chilli (the kind you often see in Spain or Italy which is less hot – and which is also grown in Pembrokeshire under glass) … this I sliced thinly and diagonally and just added two or three to each plate atop the scallops

By sheer luck I also got some pea shoots with the fresh peas I had bought that day, so I added these as a garnish along with some finely chopped and flavoursome Parsley.

I have no picture of the results – they didn’t last long enough!

After dinner we headed a couple of streets along to Fecci for amazing ice cream and then took a walk along the cliffs to the South Beach at sunset, finishing the evening with a gorgeous locally produced Gin (whose name I carelessly forgot!) – infused with orange peel, rosemary and herbs along with the traditional juniper, cardamom, coriander, etc., this was an aromatic and heady finish to the day.

A bit about Tenby

A perfect base from which to explore the Pembrokeshire Coastal Path and the many beaches that dot this area, Tenby is a pretty but unpretentious town settled stop cliffs and facing South East across a wide bay towards the Gower Peninsula.

Tenby isn’t spoilt. It’s no Whitstable or Southwold. Rich or poor, everyone eats great fish and chips  and ice cream – readily available and high quality from several outlets (Fecci do both, and Pipers majors on Fish and Chips).

There are some high end restaurants – but again, these aren’t fussy or over-pricey. It’s not the sort of place that wants or needs a Rick Stein. It’s happy as it is, and it’s rather lovely for it.

Go – but respect it for what it is. It’s been here longer than you or me, and it will be around for a while yet.

Oh – and one small thing. The Sunday Times’ Great British Beach Guide named Tenby as having the UK’s beat beach (Castle Beach). Though for me, South Beach was just as good and less busy – Waterwynch Bay was a dream, Saundersfoot, Manorbier, Barrafundle … it’s a long list.

Coasts Laugharne, Saundersfoot, Waterwynch, Tenby, Manorbier, Caldey Island, Stackpole Quay, Barafundle Bay, St David's ... names redolent of the far West of the Pembrokeshire coast of Wales.

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capture remark western outcome risk current bold compare resident ambition arrest furthermore desire confuse accurate disclose considerable contribute calculate baggage literacy noble era benefit orchard shabby content precious manufacture dusk afford assist demonstrate instant concentrate sturdy severe blend vacant weary carefree host limb pointless prepare inspire shallow chamber vast ease attentive source frantic lack recent distress basic permit threat analyze distract meadow mistrust jagged prefer sole envy hail reduce arena tour annual apparent recognize captivity burrow proceed develop humble resist peculiar response communicate circular variety frequent reveal essential disaster plead mature appropriate attractive request congratulate address destructive fragile modest attempt tradition ancestor focus flexible conclude venture impact generosity routine tragic crafty furious blossom concern ascend awkward master queasy release portion plentiful alert heroic extraordinary frontier descend invisible coax entrance capable peer terror mock outstanding valiant typical competition hardship entertain eager limp survive tidy antonym duplicate abolish approach approve glory magnificent meek prompt revive watchful wreckage audible consume glide origin prevent punctuate representative scorn stout woe arch authentic clarify declare grant grave opponent valid yearn admirable automatic devotion distant dreary exhaust kindle predict separation stunt

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evade debate dedicate budge available miniature petrify pasture banquet pedestrian solitary decline reassure nonchalant exhibit realistic exert abuse dictate minor monarch concept character strategy soar beverage tropical withdraw challenge kin navigate purchase reliable mischief solo combine vivid aroma spurt illuminate narrator retain excavate avalanche preserve suspend accomplish exasperate obsolete occasion myth reign sparse gorge intense revert antagonist talon aggressive alternate retire cautiously blizzard require endanger luxurious senseless portable sever compensate companion visual immense slither guardian compassion escalate detect protagonist oasis altitude assume seldom courteous absurd edible identical pardon approximate taunt achievement homonym hearty convert wilderness industrious sluggish thrifty deprive independent bland confident anxious astound numerous resemble route access jubilation saunter hazy impressive document moral crave gigantic bungle prefix summit overthrow perish visible translate comply intercept feeble exult compose negative suffocate frigid synonym appeal dominate deplete abundant economy desperate diligent commend boycott jovial onset burden fixture objective siege barrier conceive formal inquire penalize picturesque predator privilege slumber advantage ambition defiant fearsome imply merit negotiate purify revoke wretched absorb amateur channel elegant grace inspect lame tiresome tranquil boast eloquent glisten ideal infectious invest locate ripple sufficient uproar

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apprehensive dialogue prejudice marvel eligible accommodate arrogant distinct knack deposit liberate cumulative consequence strive salvage chronological unique vow concise influence lure poverty priority legislation significant conserve verdict leisure erupt beacon stationary generate provoke efficient campaign paraphrase swarm adhere eerie mere mimic deteriorate literal preliminary solar soothe expanse ignite verge recount apparel terrain ample quest composure majority collide prominent duration pursue innovation omniscient resolute unruly optimist restrain agony convenient constant prosper elaborate genre retrieve exploit continuous dissolve dwell persecute abandon meager elude rural retaliate primitive remote blunder propel vital designate cultivate loathe consent drastic fuse maximum negotiate barren transform conspicuous possess allegiance beneficial former factor deluge vibrant intimidate idiom dense awe rigorous manipulate transport discretion hostile clarity arid parody boisterous capacity massive prosecute declare stifle remorse refuge predicament treacherous inevitable ingenious plummet adapt monotonous accumulate reinforce extract reluctant vacate hazardous inept diminish domestic linger context excel cancel distribute document fragile myth reject scuffle solitary temporary veteran assault convert dispute impressive justify misleading numerous productive shrewd strategy villain bluff cautious consist despise haven miniature monarch obstacle postpone straggle vivid aggressive associate deceive emigrate flexible glamour hazy luxurious mishap overwhelm span blemish blunt capable conclude detect fatigue festive hospitality nomad supreme

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exclude civic compact painstaking supplement habitat leeway minute hoax contaminate likeness migration commentary extinct tangible originate urban unanimous subordinate collaborate obstacle esteem encounter futile cordial trait improvises superior exaggerate anticipate cope evolve eclipse dissent anguish subsequent sanctuary formulates makeshift controversy diversity terminate precise equivalent pamper prior potential obnoxious radiant predatory presume permanent pending simultaneously tamper supervise perceived vicious patronize trickle stodgy rant oration preview species poised perturb vista wince yearn persist shirk status tragedy trivial snare vindictive wrath recede peevish rupture unscathed random toxic void orthodox subtle resume sequel upright wary overwhelm perjury uncertainty prowess utmost throb pluck pique vengeance pelt urgent substantial robust sullen retort ponder whim saga sham reprimand vocation assimilate dub defect accord embark desist dialect chastise banter inaugurate ovation barter muse blasé stamina atrocity deter principal liberal epoch preposterous advocate audacious dispatch incense deplore institute deceptive component subside spontaneous bonanza ultimate wrangle clarify hindrance irascible plausible profound infinite accomplish apparent capacity civilian conceal duplicate keen provoke spurt undoing vast withdraw barrier calculate compose considerable deputy industrious jolt loot rejoice reliable senseless shrivel alternate demolish energetic enforce feat hearty mature observant primary resign strive verdict brisk cherish considerate displace downfall estimate humiliate identical improper poll soothe vicinity abolish appeal brittle condemn descend dictator expand famine portable prey thrifty visual

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stance vie instill exceptional avail strident formidable rebuke enhance benign perspective tedious aloof encroach memoir mien desolate inventive prodigy staple stint fallacy grope vilify recur assail tirade antics recourse clad jurisdiction caption pseudonym reception humane ornate sage ungainly overt sedative amiss convey connoisseur rational enigma fortify servile fastidious contagious elite disgruntled eccentric pioneer abet luminous era sleek serene proficient rue articulate awry pungent wage deploy anarchy culminate inventory commemorate muster adept durable foreboding lucrative modify authority transition confiscate pivotal analogy avid flair ferret decree voracious imperative grapple deface augment shackle legendary trepidation discern glut cache endeavor attribute phenomenon balmy bizarre gullible loll rankle decipher sublime rubble renounce porous turbulent heritage hover pithy allot minimize agile renown fend revenue versa gaunt haven dire doctrine intricate conservative exotic facilitate bountiful cite panorama swelter foster indifferent millennium gingerly conscientious intervene mercenary citadel obviously rely supportive sympathy weakling atmosphere decay gradual impact noticeable recede stability variation approximately astronomical calculation criterion diameter evaluate orbit sphere agricultural decline disorder identify probable thrive expected widespread bulletin contribution diversity enlist intercept operation recruit survival abruptly ally collide confident conflict protective taunt adaptation dormant forage frigid hibernate insulate export glisten influence landscape native plantation restore urge blare connection errand exchange

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feasible teem pang vice tycoon succumb capacious onslaught excerpt eventful forfeit crusade tract haggard susceptible exemplify ardent crucial excruciating embargo disdain apprehend surpass sporadic flustered languish conventional disposition theme plunder ignore project complaint title dramatic delivery litter experimental clinic arrogance preparation remind atomic occasional conscious deny maturity closure stressed translator animate observation physical further gently registration suppress combination amazing constructive allied poetry passion ecstasy mystery cheerful contribution spirit failed gummy commerce prove disagreement raid consume embarrass preference migrant devour encouragement quote mythology destined destination illuminating struggle accent ungrateful giggle approval confidence expose scientist operation superstitious emergency manners absolutely swallow readily mutual bound crisp orient stress sort stare comfort verbal heel challenging advertisement envious sex scar astonish basis accuracy enviable alliance specific chef embarrassed counter tolerable sympathetic gradually vanish informative amaze royal furry insist jealousy simplify quiver collaborate dedicated flexible function mimic obstacle technique archaeologist fragment historian intact preserve reconstruct remnant commence deed exaggeration heroic impress pose saunter wring astound concealed inquisitive interpret perplexed precise reconsider suspicious anticipation defy entitled neutral outspoken reserved sought equal absorb affect circulate conserve cycle necessity seep barren expression meaningful plume focused genius perspective prospect stunned superb transition assume guarantee nominate

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install reticent corroborate regretfully strength murder concise cunning intention holy satire query confused progression disillusion background mundane abrupt multiple enormously introduce emulate harmful pragmatic pity rebut liberate enthusiastic elucidate camaraderie disparage nature creep profitability impression racist sobriety occupy autonomy currently amiable reiterate reproduce cripple modest offer atom provincial augment ungratefully expansion yield rashly allude immigration silence epitome exacerbate somber avid dispute vindicate collaborate manufacturer embellish superficial propaganda incompetent objective diminish statistics endure ambivalent perpetuate illuminate phenomenon exasperate originality restrict anxiety anthropology circumstances aesthetic manufacturing conventional dubious vulnerable reality precedent entity success term critical repair underscore stepmother republican hesitantly classic wary contents prediction immediate invoke notorious implicit excluding input skeptical foster element punish frank humanity profound dessert orthodox substance disappear encourage neighborhood elder superfluous naive ascertain complacent resilient deafening military tend prudent glare acceptance skillfully induce monster beam gullible conciliate vessel petty cantankerous disclose archaeology anecdote disdain electronics substantiate subjective tourism advisable joyful incredible provocative psychological ruins discipline condone indifferent misfortune judgmental industrialize tasty assume astute mission mar protective definitely escape oppress shocked virtual zealous endorse qualification hostile eccentric abstract disparate geographical scrutinize generalization tolerate activity claim dogmatic influential obsolete extol implausible subsequent resource chronic benevolent improve confidential ambiguous seriously dearth perplex hatred throughout dine contemporary evoke essentially economic flagrant obscure alleviate eloquent dreaadful clumsy sympathy victim condemn vigor condescend spontaneous quell reprehensible substantially sleeve equivocal ironic decry errand articulate progressive eradicate refreshments elicit aspiration recently exemplary bribery theoretical disingenuous partisan revere particle nostalgia self-aggrandizement debunk tyranny rhetoric hierarchy warning whimsical venerate commend assert miserable awful vibe constrain undermine explicit differentiate compliment scrupulous contempt erroneous ideal refute imply cynical rash presume insight revival vary delay renounce indignant offensive temperate circumstantial export peep logo advertise suppress distort chunk convoluted denounce overwhelming fertility rigorous acquire arrogant university antagonize profitable indulgent strategic breathing idiosyncrasy profession frugal discern accommodation adversary incredulous disturbance digress social belie roam smug continual pertinent voluntarily elite subtle blame sincerity lick horror censure involvement candid infer futile impetuous exploit bewilder sustain diligent sincere protect sealed musical empathy callous parenthetical insure acorn sarcasm seize sacrificially allege emphatic irrelevant progress diplomatic stunned improvise deride reconcile meticulous deject scientifically incontrovertible pressure justify gloomy depict supplant endurance analogous diary bolster slip contemplate pesticide glow religious advocate negligent creator lament fundamental embrace throne inherent inferior valuable thrive trivial pretense reserved capricious refresh refusal flight boost explanation coherent prevalent tenacious official royalty assassin rub poach delete

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warrant circumscribed somewhat explosive optimistic mandate previously detract opinion intuitive feasible intimate persistent humble simplicity tempt deliberate painful unethical fundamentals discrepancy remorse pessimistic possibility conclusion acknowledge impregnate soberly creation paralyze suitability oblige tranquil medal arbitrate pacify illusory susceptible vibrate vengeance infection democratic stressful grave speculative sample identification stifle obligation revenge organization namely mediocre practical scream weaken consensus affectionate deficient treacherous console isolation ingenious memory melodrama despair awestruck composition regret recommendation celebrity decision devoid opaque ornamentation longevity participate dread restore interrogate aid accordingly mislead embarrassment optimism domestic apt funds virtue geography fundamentally thoroughly press despite horrible chilling rental esteemed disappointment innovative contemplation assign popularize haunt deafen serene percent estrangement suffer extravagant throng estimate comment priesthood mass dreadfully promote periphery animated saying relate clarity triple derivative succeed distortion register suicide improvement discreet inquisition probable curative incident praise convenience baffle covet dreadful genuinely weary undisturbed disgruntled humility renown nonchalant monopoly comedy vague decisive inconsequential announcement fabricated nevertheless vigilant scarce neglectful hushed attainment tedious explode snatch pslm agency sentimental tension adhere meanwhile sacred avert conformity likewise challenger accessible responsibility peril contact event roast fallible catastrophic competitor violate resolute deceive exaggeration discredit intolerable approve paste dimly novelist demeanor norm politician satisfaction obvious vehicle reservation defer involve restoration crush audible assistant backpack attain inanimate commemorate confrontation emigration parasite disperse quantitative laughter policy vulgar occasionally repay effective eulogy starvation empty therapeutic overall immortal encompass inappropriate opportune engagement illustrate turmoil observatory classification expression reminiscence comedian invention depress remedy protagonist gesture texture diplomatic election prolong conducive emotional invigorate curiosity expressive %

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