#sweetfern

[jillraggett]

Plant of the Day

Tuesday 16 May 2023

These deep-maroon purple flowers edged with white may well be the cultivar Tulipa 'Jackpot' or Tulipa ‘Alexander Pushkin’ (tulip). These blooms seemed a great plant association with the aniseed-scented perennial Myrrhis odorata (sweet cicely, myrrh, sweet bracken, sweet chervil, sweet fern, sweet Mary) contrasting both form and colour.

Jill Raggett

[simplyventi]

The Shadeclan leader, Silkstar and her family

Silkstar: her warrior name being Silkfern is a fair and responsible leader. She is just one of the oldest leaders out of the others, the other being Drystar of Snakeclan but will go over him in another post. She’s the one who would like to talk problems through than fight but fighting is a last option. At the start of my story she has about 5 lives and her deputy was Smokedapple before she died in the fire. Her mate was Whitetail who also had died in the fire leaving her with their two kits Sweetkit and Berrykit.

Also Sweetkit and Berrykit were added in because around the same time I started clangen with this story in mind we found two kittens under our porch so I based them off of them. Also Jaysnow was going to be her kit but I changed that deciding not to do that.

Whitetail was one of the senior warriors of the clan. He was the type to see every cat in the clan as his own. Well liked and respected he was sought out for his wisdom. He was one of the lives lost from the fire.

Sweetfern is a new warrior of the clan. She’s spunky and full of energy. She requested during her ceremony she was to be named Sweetfern as her warrior name after her mother who dies before she becomes a warrior. She is so full of life and takes our happiness out of everything in life. She loves her brother and is very close to him.

Berrytail is the fight first ask questions later type of cat. He also asked for his warrior name to be Berrytail after his father Whitetail. He’s adventurous and loves to explore even willing to sneak out of camp when he was an apprentice and getting scolded by his mother or whoever caught him.

[blackswallowtailbutterfly]

So most of the plants that began showing signs of life in April last year are doing so now, but I am still waiting on:

Adiantum pedatum (maidenhair fern) Aruncus dioicus (bride's feathers) Asclepias viridiflora (green comet milkweed) Cardamine concenata (cutleaf toothwort) Cardamine maxima (large toothwort) Claytonia virginica (fairyspuds) Clinopodium vulgare (wild basil) Comptonia peregrina (sweetfern) Echinacea purpurea (purple coneflower) Epilobium cilliatum (fringed willhowherb) Galium boreale (northern bedstraw) Hypericum punctatum (spotted St. John's wort) Lathyrus ochroleucus (cream pea vine) Mertensia paniculata (tall bluebells) Monarda fistulosa (wild bergamot) Pycnanthemum tenufolium (slender mountain mint) Ratibida pinnata (greyheaded coneflower) Solidago nemoralis (grey goldenrod) Symphyotrichum ericoides (white heath aster) Trillium cuneatum (little sweet Betsy) Viola blanda (sweet white violet) Viola canadensis (Canada violet)

And we'll see if any more of the new ones show themselves this month. I suppose I should also track whether it's early in the month, the middle of the month or late in the month.

[ghostclangen]

“It’s gorgeous in here.”

Waterfur’s awed voice reverberates off the glistening crystals that line the cave walls. Delighted at the echo, she calls, “Hello!”

Hello, hello, hello! the night whispers.

“How’d you find this place, anyway?” she asks, turning to her companion. “I thought it was just a myth. I heard about the Cavern of Souls from my mom when I was a kit.”

Sweetfern shrugs and says, “I have my ways. I like to think I’m pretty clever.”

Waterfur bunts her head against Sweetfern’s shoulder and says, “You’re very clever, dear.” 

Sweetfern purrs and gives the top of Waterfur’s head a lick. “Why, thank you. It’ll come in handy when I’m deputy.”

“Hm?” Waterfur peers at Sweetfern, suddenly uncertain.

“Well, because you’ll choose me as deputy when you become leader, right?” Sweetfern says, and flashes her an award-winning smile.

“Ohhh, right. Sorry. Silly of me.” Waterfur shakes her head, then turns away from Sweetform to focus on the path in front of her. Small crystals jut out from the ground, and she doesn’t need a pierced paw to ruin her night. “Yes, you can be my deputy, dear. You know, if Moorstar doesn’t die before I do.”

Sweetfern snorts. “Wow, Waterfur, that’s brutal.”

“Kidding, kidding. You know I love that old bitty.”

“Uh-huh.” Sweetfern cranes her neck to see past Waterfur and grins. “Wait, Waterfur, over here! There’s a path that leads to a waterfall. It’s beautiful, you’ll love it.”

Waterfur’s tail twitches with excitement. “Lead the way!”

Sweetfern pushes gently past her and guides her to a small gap between two giant crystals, ducking so as not to hit her head. Waterfur follows obediently, and in a few minutes, they’ve arrived.

It’s just as awe-inspiring as Sweetfern said. The stream snaking through the cavern shimmers in the light of the crystals, making it look like a river of silvery-blue light. To her left, a small waterfall descends gracefully from a ledge in the rocky floor. The roar is soft somehow, a delicate, melodious sound that fills Waterfur’s heart with wonder. 

Even with the softness of it, it covers up what Sweetfern says next.

Waterfur tears her gaze away from the scene ahead of her and turns to Sweetfern, equally as gorgeous. “Sorry, what’d you say?”

“I said,” Sweetfern says, the smile falling from her face, “I really did love you.”

Before Waterfur can question her, Sweetfern’s claws flash in front of her, glinting in the crystals’ glow. It takes a few moments to register what she’s done, but there’s warm blood on her throat, and it’s become hard to breathe. “What?” she asks, her voice clotted with the taste of copper. “Why?” She wobbles for a second, then falls to the cave floor with a grunt. Through half-lidded eyes, she catches Sweetfern in her blurred vision, though she can’t make out her expression.

“Why do you think?” Sweetfern answers. “You were in the way. Don’t get me wrong, Waterfur dearest, you were a good mate … but I have other priorities.”

Waterfur summons the last dregs of her strength to call through a mouth full of blood: “Help? Help…!”

Sweetfern laughs and shakes her head. “You can’t seriously believe someone will hear you. Give it up.”

Waterfur tries to spit out a retort, but finds that her mouth won’t open. Her consciousness is fading into a dissociated mess of feelings—rage, for one, and pain, and sadness, and finally, an overwhelming tiredness that finally lulls her to a sleep she never wakes up from.

She wakes up in one piece. On wobbly legs, she stands up and looks around. There’s the crystalline stream, and over there is the waterfall. Which means …

Hesitantly, Waterfur looks down, then flinches at the gruesome sight that greets her. She—well, the cat she was—lies on the ground, dried blood stuck on and around her throat. A streak of red trickles out of her mouth, and her eyes are dull, unseeing, useless. She gasps, then begins to pant, her chest rising and falling sharply in panic. She turns away and retches, but nothing comes out. Naturally. 

Before she can get her bearings again, her surroundings fade, and soon, a field of lush, silvery grass surrounds her. Silverpelt. She didn’t expect to see it so soon. Oh, StarClan, why is this happening? she thinks, closing her eyes tight. This has to be a dream…

“Waterfur.”

Her eyes open again, then widens as she realizes what’s happening. “Dad? Dad!”

Ahead of her stands a tom with silky ginger fur and a gentle—though sad—smile on his face. “I wasn’t expecting to see you so soon.”

“Neither was I,” Waterfur breathes. She stands there in shock for a moment more, then bursts out of her shock and runs up to nestle her head into the crook of Shiningfur’s neck. “I missed you so much. It’s been so long, I don’t—everything is … Sweetfern, she …”

Before she can get the rest of her words out, an odd sensation stirs in her chest. It’s not like anything she’s experienced before; it’s as if she’s being dragged backwards, like something has a grip on her heart and is pulling her towards it. “What …?”

Shiningfur stares at her, wide-eyed in confusion and concern, and Waterfur realizes that she’s not just feeling pulled by an unseen force, she’s actually literally being pulled toward something. She staggers backward, and in a choked voice, she cries out, “Dad! Dad, help, please help …”

Shiningfur rushes toward her, but it’s too late; before she knows it, a void fills her vision, and she falls into oblivion.

[bonemeadows]

goodbye june of sweet air and soft nights. goodbye june of dawn thunderstorms that shake the house by its frame. goodbye june of rain threshing the trees all day and sweetfern leaves crushed ripe and green. of baby birds and baby snakes. june you have been good to me this year though i have not always been good to you. june of my heart. june my open wound but the wound was not made to be healed. the comfort is in the nurturing of the raw edge, in the sting of seawater on the tender part. 

[libraryofmoths]

Moth of the Week

Io Moth

Automeris io

The Io moth or peacock moth is in the family Saturniidae. The name Io comes from Greek mythology in which the mortal Io was turned into a cow by Hera for sleeping with Zeus. The eyespots are said to look like the eyes of a cow. The species was first described in 1776 by Johan Christian Fabricius.

Description Males have yellow to orangish yellow body, legs, and forewings with symmetrical brown patterned markings. On the hindwings are large black eyespots with a white center and surrounded by yellow, black, and red orange edges. Also on the hidwings are a large red orange edge on the edge closet to the body. Females have reddish-brown body, legs, and forewings with patterns in varying shades of brown. the hindwings are similar to those of the male but with maroon instead of red orange and a small light brown edge. Some hybridizations have resulted in variations in these hindwing eyespots.

Average wingspan: 75.5 mm (≈3 in)

Males have larger antennae

Females have larger bodies and wings

Diet and Habitat The io moth caterpillars first feed on the eggs they hatch from then their host plants. These host plants are a variety of grasses, herbaceous plants, shrubs, deciduous trees, and conifers. Some of these plants included the mulberry, pin cherry, willow, balsam fir, red maple, bastard indigo, wild indigo, American hornbeam, sugarberry or southern hackberry, button-bush, eastern redbud, showy partridge pea, sweetfern, flowering dogwood, and common hazel. Adults do not feed. This species’s preferred habitats are deciduous forests, thorn scrub, and suburban areas in continental North American. They range from Manitoba to Nova Scotia in Canada and from Montana to Texas and onward over all the eastern states in the United States.

Mating Io moths breed from late May to July, though southern populations may breed earlier and later in the season due to having several broods per seasons as opposed to the north’s single brood. The females emit pheromones to call males as soon as the second night after leaving the cocoon. Males detect female pheromones with their antennae and mating lasts for about 90 minutes staring around 9:45 to 10:30 pm. 3 to 5 days after mating, females lay their eggs in clusters of 20 to 35 on the host plants leave or stems. Eggs hatch after 8 to 11 days.

Average eggs laid: 300

Predators This species is harmed by many species of parasitic flies and wasps and hunted by birds, small mammals, and spiders. In defense, the caterpillars of the io moth have venomous spikes. This venom isn’t fatal to humans, but it does caus acute dermatitis. The adult io moths use their hindwing eyespots to scare off predators by shaking them to imitate a larger animal.

Fun Fact Adult moths are strictly nocturnal and rest on the branches or trucks of trees during the day.

(Source: Wikipedia, University of Florida, Missouri Department of Conservation, Butterflies and Moths of North America, Animal Diversity Web, Adopt and Shop, Kiddle)

[chrisgates]

You Are A Sad, Strange Little Man...

TIMING: the early morning of may 28th PARTIES: @chrisgates & @declinlalune SUMMARY: andy finds chris after a bad shift and helps him back home. WARNINGS: parental death, suicidal ideation

Andy didn’t need to have enhanced smelling in order to recognize the scent of blood and the way it saturated the air. With the sun low against the horizon, just beginning to peek through the trees, she could see tattered clothing strewn across branches and other greenery. Blood followed its suit, and Andy grimaced at the sight of a dead deer, its chest ripped open with claw marks running down its sides and across its throat. She quickly stepped around it, several cans of repellent knocking around in her bag. The knife she had no intention of using sat in the breast pocket of her jacket as a reminder to anyone she came across that she did have protection. 

The further she moved off of the trail, the thicker the trees became. She’d been trained in woods like these, though with different flora. In the past four years, it hadn’t been hard to become acclimated to their new surroundings– both she and Alex had developed the ability to adapt, and adapt quickly. However, no other place they’d been housed the supernatural quite like Wicked’s Rest. It was both a blessing and a curse. Andy stopped just short of the small clearing– if it could be called that. The trees were sparse, but sweetfern grew in large bunches across the ground, and if it hadn’t been for that same creeping feeling Alex gave her, she may not have noticed the figure behind the tree. Whether they were purposely hiding, or slumped, she couldn’t quite tell just yet. “Hello?” Andy called out, voice hoarse with apprehension. 

How many times would he go through this? How many times did he have to wake up covered in blood or naked beyond legal reason? How many more headaches and missing hours, missing days, did he have to endure? Chris grew tired of the mornings he’d wake up in some godforsaken place, alone and confused. No manner of chain or cage would keep him, either, apparently. He’d fall asleep to the safety of the cool metal only to wake amongst wet leaves and flies. It made him want to cry — it made him want to scream.

This day was no different. The cold, unblinking eyes of a deer greeted Chris when he roused; it elicited a scared frustration, but also a determination to remove himself from the situation. There was so much blood. He needed to recuperate quickly if he wanted to make it back to the motel before the sun passed too far above the horizon; he needed the cover of dark if he wanted to remain unseen — as the old song went, the universe was against him. A limb didn’t set right during the ‘transformation’ which meant moving was going to be even more painful. 

Chris couldn’t get the dislocation at first, so he crawled away from the scene of the crime and holed himself up against a tree. That was.. difficult. He may have passed out at some point, he couldn’t tell — there were times he couldn’t tell dream from reality. The pain didn’t help his disorientation, but a voice shot through, clear, as if he could see it in front of his face. It grabbed his attention faster than his pain did, and he slumped a little further behind the tree in the hopes that he would not be found.

Andy heard the shuffle of body against the greenery once more and she stopped where she was. She saw what she thought was a bare shoulder peek from behind the tree. So she’d been right in that the person she’d happened upon was the wolf she sensed. She had hoped it wouldn’t be, but she guessed it was better than coming across a mangled corpse of somebody who was human. She shook the thought as she took another step forward. “I’m not going to hurt you.” 

Maybe they were afraid they’d hurt her. If that were the case, Andy did have her knife in her pocket. She genuinely didn’t think she would need it, because if the individual behind the tree had wanted to hurt her, they would’ve done so already. They didn’t want to be found for a reason, and Andy could understand that. “There was a lot of blood, I’m just trying to make sure you’re alive.” 

She could hear their breathing, at the very least, and it didn’t sound desperate. “I can go, but just let me know you’re okay?” Andy knew it was stupid, and maybe it went against everything she had put up for herself– that the only werewolf she looked after was Alex, but the idea of leaving somebody else out here, helpless and alone? Especially considering the fact that she would have hoped somebody would do the same for Alex if she were in the woods alone after a shift. 

Chris was grateful he had more time to get a bearing of his surroundings and the situation at hand. There’d been too many instances where he was too out of it to run, too out of it to save his skin — or his face. It was why he had to move so often. They’d have a face to the supposed crime and then all hell would break loose. He tried to lock himself away or shackle himself to the bed frame, but he always managed to get out somehow. He always managed to make a mess of things.

It was no different then. He still had his back to a tree, still hid himself from the impromptu visitor, still feared for his own safety. It was still the same song and dance. Chris closed his eyes. His body shivered between the cold and the pain, but he was aware — and, oh, he didn’t want to be. At least, whoever it was to stumble upon the ruin seemed concerned and not angry or scared. There was trepidation, undeniably so, but they pushed forward and continued to call out for him.

Did she want to know if he was okay just to judge the situation? To see if he were able to fight back? Or to run? Chris’ thoughts moved at about a mile a minute, and every minute was spent debating whether or not this was a safe moment. They never really were, but that didn’t stop him from tying — from hoping. He opened his eyes, then, and looked up towards the speckling of pale light that started to creep through the treetops. 

That was quite the loaded question she’d asked; he did find the humor in it, as small as it was. “I’m alive,” he croaked out and swallowed. “‘Okay’ is a stretch.”

What Andy was doing was stupid and she knew it. She knew that this wasn’t Alex, but she couldn’t get herself to turn away. She’d met other wolves, as well as other shifters that weren’t Alex, and none of those situations had gone badly, but this was somebody she didn’t know, and she was in the woods, and they were covered in blood. She took a deep, steadying breath in order to ground herself. If she could shake the what-if’s, she’d be in a better position to help whoever it was that was hiding behind the tree. 

She waited in silence for their response, not daring to move an inch. What if they thought she was going to attack them? The last thing Andy wanted to do was aggro the freshly-shifted werewolf. At their comment, Andy nodded, even though she knew they couldn’t see it. “Okay, well– I have um– water.” She swallowed thickly and twisted her pack around so that she could grab the water bottle out of it. “I’ve got a flannel, too– but it might be a little small for you.” She dug further into her bag, finding a pair of biker shorts that had a massive bleach stain on them. “You don’t happen to wear women's small, do you?” Andy let out a nervous laugh before she shook the water bottle awkwardly in the air. “I can drop it by your tree– the flannel, too.” 

She sounded young and, frankly, a little awkward. Chris could feel the corners of his lips start to curl up into a slightly humored and pained expression as he listened to her rummage through her belongings. It was kind of her to do that. That didn’t erase the underlying worry that this could be a trick. Sometimes his own paranoia ran him out of town faster than murder did. He didn’t want to let her generosity blind him, but — did she know something he didn’t? She kept her distance, he’d realized. She offered him her things but she didn’t draw any closer, not like the other guy.

“The tree’s fine, thank you.. ” Chris replied; he was even more nervous now. Was it him? Did he give off the negative energy? He was injured and apparently there was enough blood to warrant concern for his life, so how was he the suspicious one? “I, uh..” he didn’t want to ask for this, but the last time he tried it ended badly. “I kind of.. Need some help.” Chris swallowed and closed his eyes, steeling himself. “My arm’s dislocated.. I can’t get it back in.” His tone, though tense, was laced with both desperation and defeat.

“Okay, okay.” Andy took a careful step forward and set both the water bottle and flannel down by the tree. She immediately backed up, careful not to make any sudden movements. Even though she knew he wasn’t looking at her, he could hear every move she made, which made her deeply uncomfortable that she’d do or say the wrong thing, or even step on the wrong tree branch. She wanted to be of more help, but she couldn’t be unless he trusted her, and what reason would he have to do that? Especially considering the fact that she knew what he was, but he had no idea that she was the wolf in sheep’s clothing. 

After a moment, Andy considered turning back, to leave him be, but the mention of his dislocated arm had her stopping in her tracks. “Oh.” She had put her own shoulder back into place, and even Alex's time and again. She didn’t know full on how to approach medical care, but she had basic field knowledge– enough to get by until she could get to a real hospital. That’d been the point of the hunter camps, to set them up for real life situations. “Yeah, I can help you. I can come to you, is that okay?” Out of the corner of Andy’s eye, she was reminded of the blood on the leaves surrounding him. What had he gotten into aside from the deer?

Chris thought back to the first time he woke up from whatever it was that happened to him — the first time he actually remembered waking up. Before then, there were spots and years missing, nights and mornings simply gone from his memory. That was until he woke up to the sun and a bird with its beak in his face. There was no one around, no one to care for him, and he had been a mess. His body had been a mess and it was difficult to put himself back together. Over time it got easier, but every now and then, well-

He was grateful that she was there.

With a little effort, Chris managed to take hold of a sleeve and dragged the flannel to his side. This definitely was too small to wear as an actual shirt, but it would work around his waist. It was better than nothing. A beat later and the water went with it. He ensured not to touch the rim of the bottle in case she wanted it back — highly unlikely, but you could never be sure. His hand shook as he drank; he’d noticed the blood. He noticed it everywhere. It was on the foliage around him, on his feet, on his stomach, on his hands. He couldn’t see, but he felt a familiar sticky, dry feeling around his mouth and on his chin. Chris tried his best to ignore it, though licked what he could from his lips. 

“Yeah. Yeah that’s okay.”

Andy watched with mild amusement as the items she’d handed over disappeared from the side of the tree. Then she remembered the blanket in her pack, too, at the very bottom. Sure, it was made of foil and meant for emergencies, but wasn’t this one? It wasn’t necessarily freezing, and she knew that the stranger would run at a higher temperature than normal, but still, it’d help with the modesty bit that she wasn’t sure he was concerned with. She pulled it out of the pack and began to unwrap it. It wasn’t the longest, but it’d go miles longer than the flannel would. 

Once he gave permission, Andy moved forward, as well as around the tree. What she had expected to see once she got a view of him was better and worse than what she had expected. He looked disoriented and a little scared. However, something told her that he’d shifted before, that this wasn’t the first time. “I have this, too.” Instead of handing it over to him, she awkwardly laid it over his waist and legs. “Once we get your shoulder set, you can wrap it, right?” 

The creeping feeling didn’t leave– it was loud, invasive, but she’d gotten good at ignoring it, especially with all the years of being by Alex’s side. She wouldn’t let pre-dispositions thwart this moment to help somebody. Andy pointed to his shoulder which had obviously been the one to be put out of place. “It’s that one, right?” 

He was covered in blood and that in itself should have made her skin crawl, but Andy knew that it was possible that the deer behind her had been the only victim. How many times had Alex come home covered in blood after a shift? Andy hadn’t ever been suspicious then. Even if she didn’t know this person, she needed to treat him with decency. “Do you need a sec, or am I good to do it?” 

Though he was grateful for the help, Chris felt embarrassed. He really shouldn’t — he’d gone through something traumatic, even if he was the cause, and he needed help. He wanted help, he just hated that he wanted it. He hated the fact that he felt so helpless. The company was, of course, greatly appreciated and their care and generosity would help his recovery process but he wished he wasn’t in the situation to begin with. That feeling had a tendency to yo-yo, usually alternating between ‘This is fine’ to ‘I don’t want to do this anymore’. Presently, he teetered towards the latter.

After some rustling, Chris heard the tell-tale sound of footsteps as they rounded the trunk’s girth. He didn’t move. Instead, he followed her with his eyes once she came into view. Redhead. Freckles. She was pretty, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t turn on him if she wanted to. He’d remember her face regardless.

He took note of the emergency blanket in her hands and truthfully was glad to see it — the flannel could only do so much — though he tensed when she set it over him. It was an unexpected movement, but he got over it quickly. Chris nodded in agreement. It would make him feel better if he could do it himself, he just needed to get through the hard part. He swallowed. “Yeah,” he answered, though his attention trailed from her to his shoulder. It looked gnarly and felt just as bad, but this wasn’t the first and he doubted it was the last. 

“No, you’re good,” Chris confirmed and tried his best to relax his upper body. He thought back to the first time — he wasn’t nearly relaxed enough then and that ended with him having to seek professional help anyway. The arm never really felt right since. “I’m ready..”

To say he looked rough was an understatement, and it was by pure luck that Andy had found him and not somebody else. What would Kaden have done if he’d come across this man? Would he have helped, or would he have run? Would he have done something else? There were still so many questions she had for her cousin regarding his arrival in Wicked’s Rest, and though it had been weeks now, she still felt like she had no idea what his intentions were. It wasn’t a good feeling. 

After a moment, Andy shook the thought. She couldn’t think about that now, not when somebody needed her help. Somebody who had no connection to Alex or Kaden– somebody who, for all intents and purposes, was good. 

Once he confirmed which shoulder it was, Andy nodded. She had done this plenty of times, and she knew that doing it without a countdown was the way to go. The surprise came better than the anticipation. At least, for her, it did. “Okay, ready? I’ll count down.” Except, there were no numbers. Instead, she positioned her hands as needed and immediately shoved his shoulder back into place. The sound wasn’t anything she hadn’t heard before, but it still made the back of her neck prickle. 

Instead of letting him go immediately, she kept hold of his arm, just in case he reacted from the sudden impact in a way that would put them back at square one.

Truth be told, he may have lied a little — no, he wasn’t ready, but there was no point in dawdling. It would hurt regardless. Chris steeled himself, though tried his best to keep his body as relaxed as possible. That was going to be difficult with a countdown; with that, you knew when zero was going to hit. You knew when the pain would come. With her hands on his arm there was no time to argue.

There was no time to do anything, really. There was no countdown, nothing but the sickening ‘pop’ that came with the sudden force of shoving bone into another bone. The immediate and white hot pain that jolted throughout his shoulder and arm, though it didn’t last for too long. A dull ache would linger, however; he never really did heal right.

Chris’ cry of pain was brief and left a wave of shallow breaths in its wake. He needed to calm down; he was going to be fine. He stole a deep breath amidst the discomfort before offering her an exhausted nod. “It’s good.. I think. There’s no pain.” A beat, and then a slight smile. “Eh, less pain, I mean.. Thanks.”

Andy grimaced at the noise that left him. She didn’t like to hear others hurt, and though her father’s voice in the back of her head surged forward to finish the job, she ignored it. She wasn’t that person. She would never be that person. Her refusal to fall into line with ranger ideals had always been present. It wasn’t just Alex’s lack of hunter abilities that’d instilled it in her. She had never understood it; the way that animals, or people were categorized as monsters simply because of what had been inflicted upon them, or what they’d been brought into the world as. They deserved every right to exist, just as anyone else. There was no ‘other’ category in her mind. 

Nearly losing herself to the tug-o-war, Andy blinked rapidly to bring herself back to the present. If she had felt uneasy before, now it was an entirely different ball game. 

“I’ve never done that before. Glad it worked.” Andy grinned before continuing, “kidding, but still.” She got up from where she was crouched over him and took a step back so that she could give him space. He needed more help than what she could give him in the middle of the woods, but who was she supposed to take him to? She knew he would only heal with the full moon, but that was weeks away. 

“Is there anyone I can call?” Andy could feel the blood from the deer on her hands from where she’d touched the stranger. “I don’t have to,” Andy quickly added, not knowing if he would panic at the idea. She wanted to do right by him. Maybe not for herself, but for Alex, and for all of the other wolves that’d met a similar fate.

You’re fine. You’re safe. Nothing is going to hurt you.

Many years ago, Chris would have laughed at the thought. He didn’t trust anyone, then, wouldn’t believe a word any of them said. He couldn’t stand to have their eyes on him or their concerns voiced in his direction. Many years ago, he would have lashed out and fled without a second thought, his sole intent to keep himself alive. Back then, everything would hurt him.

Now, the days were still tumultuous, anxiety and paranoia were still close-knit friends, but they were easier. At least, that’s what Chris told himself. He could make it through a conversation without feeling his skin prickle, but at what cost? There were more and more nights where control just didn’t seem possible, where he’d fall into bed and wake to the sky overhead or the sound of flies in his ear. The days were easier, sure, but the nights only grew worse.

He liked to tell himself that that was a problem for his future self — unfortunately, he was his future self and he had to deal with it now. Take it in stride, that’s all you can do.

Chris offered a tired snort of a laugh, “professional or not, I’m grateful.” With his shoulder set, he made a beeline for the thermal blanket and fixed it so it covered his lap a bit better. He hesitated at her next question before offering her a quick headshake. “No, there’s-” he shook his head again. “I’ll be okay.. I’ve.. done this before.” It felt like too much information still, but it was better than revealing that he was alone. 

“I just… need a second.” Or an hour. Despite the fixed arm, Chris felt disoriented as hell.

I’ve done this before. 

Andy had always been left to wonder what would have come of her sister if something worse had happened on that camping trip. Not to say that the worst hadn’t happened, but what if Andy hadn’t noticed the bite? What if her aunt had found out first? Andy knew worrying about the possibilities of what could have happened (but didn’t) was useless, but they came to mind anyway. 

“Okay, if you’re sure.” Andy offered another hesitant smile. He would need help getting out, probably. Maybe she should start bringing clothes with her on excursions like these, just in case. While she didn’t necessarily want to out herself as knowing it was clear that something was amiss here, even he would need to accept it. She couldn’t just suggest he bring a to-go bag with him when he was going to be shifting, because it was fairly clear that there was no control within this context. 

“I can give you a ride though, if you would like.” Andy didn’t like the idea of him venturing into town on his own, not when the town was crawling with rangers. Really, she wasn’t entirely sure how anyone did it. How they frequented business, going along with their daily lives, ignorant to those who could end it all in one swift movement. “I don’t mind.” 

The offer of a ride was incredibly tempting. Chris recalled those times when he’d have to hide and sneak his way to safety. He was sure he looked like a whole idiot with his ass out and using anything big enough to cover himself with, but what else was he supposed to do? He tried locking himself to the bed which only gave him a panic attack. He tried to confine himself to a room, that didn’t work. He tried to stay awake, go for a run, cover the windows — really anything he could think of to keep himself from wandering off and doing god knows what.

And they all ended the same way — with a walk of shame.

A painful walk of shame, at that, but embarrassing all the same. If he had a ride, he wouldn’t need to deal with any of the shame. There was shame in the moment, but the safety of a car would mean less prying eyes. On top of that, Chris felt obligated to agree. The prickling sensation of ‘what if’ lingered (it always did), but she’d been so kind, so accommodating — it only felt right.

And honestly, he really didn’t feel like walking this time.

Chris hesitated, his head pounded in return. He gave her a small nod after a beat of mulling it over. “Okay..,” he nodded again, more sure this time. “A ride sounds.. Good.” But then he’d caught a glimpse of the blood again and frowned. “Are you sure? I.. I don’t want to get.. blood everywhere.”

Andy waited patiently for him to either agree and accept her offer, or to decline. For a moment, she was absolutely sure he would tell her not to bother, that he would find his own way home, but instead, he nodded. She smiled gently at him and nodded in return as if to agree on their half-spoken deal. 

Even though she didn’t know what had gotten him to this point, Andy had to trust that he was good. That whatever had happened wasn’t because he wanted to do it. She ignored the idea that there could be somebody out there dead because of him. She had to ignore that, or else she would be reeled back in by the teachings of her parents and of those like her. But she wasn’t like them, and this was proof of that. She wasn’t a good guy, not by a long shot, but she wanted to be. She had to be. 

“It’s okay. It wouldn’t be the first time.” She paused, then added, “my sister, she’s… pretty damn clumsy.” Andy gave him a reassuring smile before helping him get to his feet. “Also, just in case you’re embarrassed about–” She gestured towards the fact that he was naked and only covered by the items she had provided. “I am very gay, so don’t worry.” It mirrored her conversation with Nicole, only in a totally different way. “It’s going to be a bit of a walk, so if you need to lean on me, do that.” 

Slow and steady, but if anything felt awry or threatening in any way, Chris was ready to bolt. It was exhausting to live like that and truthfully, he wasn’t sure how much longer he could take it. For now, though, everything seemed fine — it seemed good. Maybe he had some luck, after all?

“Not like this, though, I hope?” Chris gestured to the mess around him with a shy grin. The amount of blood on both skin and foliage was.. Alarming. He remembered the first time he woke up like that. The sheer panic had been overwhelming then and the confusion even worse — now, he barely batted an eyelid. Well, for the mess, anyway. Everything else that came still terrorized him.

He clutched at the silver blanket as he let her help him onto his bare feet. Small fabric remnants clung to the sparse dew and blood across his legs. Dirt was buried deeply beneath his fingernails. Fuck, he couldn’t wait for a shower. Despite being shaky and a little dizzy, it felt good to finally stand up.

Her comment, though it hadn’t come from nowhere, absolutely tickled him. Chris dropped his head with a laugh. “Ah,” he started in between the humor, “that’s, uh, heh, that’s good to know. Thanks for the reassurance.” It was incredibly kind of her to try to placate his shame, and while he appreciated and preferred it, it was one of the least of his concerns. Chris nodded; he was sure he’d have to rely on her for support, until he gained his footing. It definitely got easier over the years.

With blanket where he wanted it and water bottle under an arm, Chris felt ready to leave the bloody mess behind. “Okay.. I’m as ready as I can be.”

“Not like this, but still, it’s okay.” Andy didn’t want him to get home any other way. If it hadn’t been her who’d come across him in the middle of the woods, it might have been somebody else. Somebody else who would have hurt him, if they could sense him the way she could. Even if it was a warden or a slayer, would they have turned their back on him leaving him for dead, or would they have done their due diligence in assisting a faceless ranger who hadn’t made it to the injured wolf in time? 

Once they were moving, Andy made sure to help support his weight. “I’m Andy, by the way.” 

Whatever conversation they could have had was emptied out by labored breathing and Andy’s consideration for his still healing injury. The journey to her jeep was a long one, considering the pace they were going at, but they made it. After helping him into the passenger seat, she got in and started towards the main road. “Just tell me where to go.” 

Was it actually okay or was this just ‘it’s not really okay but your relief matters more than the mess’? It was a heartwarming sentiment either way and it made Chris feel better about his decision in going with her. It didn’t make him nearly as nervous — he wasn’t completely relaxed, but he felt certain now that he would make it out of this without too much incident. 

Of course, they still had the walk to go through and that was going to be quite the trek, according to her. They weren’t out of the woods yet.

Immediately he was reminded of Toy Story when she introduced herself, but he kept that stupid little thought to himself and instead offered his own introduction. “Chris,’ he winced through the greeting but still shared a small smile. “It’s nice to meet you.. I.. wish it was under better circumstances.” He did laugh, but it was true. He hated that he had to meet anyone like this, even if they wanted him dead.

The walk was long. She wasn’t lying. Chris felt completely exhausted by the end of it, and even though his shoulder was back in its place, it hurt. Getting into the car seat was also a little bit of a struggle, but once he was in and settled and they were off, that was it. That all was the hard part, he hoped. Chris directed her towards the Bearcliff motel — deep down, he really hated the fact that she now knew where he was staying, but he’d cross that bridge if and when he got there. He wouldn’t dare bring that up, he probably didn’t even need to. She could probably tell.

Though it was daylight, it was early enough that the parking lot wasn’t a mess of cars and people. Chris was completely ready to make the last leg of it by himself, but she stayed for that too. She stayed until he made it to the dingy motel door and stayed until it bolted shut. He was left with a hell of a body ache and a pretty good feeling about Andy — he severely hoped he wasn’t wrong.

[especiallyebs]

Commission I did for Catty’s character, Ms. Sweetfern!

[determined-blazeau]

Thunderclan

Leader: Icestar (P.Bluestar)- messy silver bluish gray molly with silver scales across her muzzle and tabby markings on her legs; blue-green eyes and silver horns*

Sibling: Snowfang, Featherfall, Cricketsong

Child: Mossfreeze

Apprentice: Blazepaw

Heir: Mossfreeze (P.Mosskit)- dark gray tom with white splotches and a silver scale paws; bright blue eyes and white horns* Sentinal

Parent: Icestar

Protector: Cardinalspark- dark brown tabby tom with ginger tortie splotches and white scales on his face; yellow eyes and black horns*

Sibling: Patchbelly

Apprentice: Tigerpaw

Meditator: Rosetail- gray tabby molly with a pink orange scaled tail; yellow eyes and brown horns

Sibling: Tigerpaw

Children: Spottedleaf, Racconrustle

Fairy: Spottedleaf- dark tortoiseshell molly with white on her paws and red feathers growing along her spine; amber eyes and black horns

Parent: Rosetail

Sibling: Racconrustle

Warriors

Fuzzythorn (P.Fuzzypelt)- black tom with fur that stands on end with gray spines along his spine; yellow eyes and gray horns Crafter

Children: Buzzardpaw, Ravenpaw

Robinwing- small dusky brown molly with a ginger patch of scales on her chest; amber eyes and red horns

Mate: Specklescorch (Ex)

Children: Peachthorn, Wablerheart, Addertail

G.Children: Lynxkit, Hoodkit, Sunnykit

Dappletail- black and brown tortoiseshell molly with white scale patches; amber eyes Crafter

Children: Featherfall, Cricketsong

Patchbelly- black tom with white belly and white scale legs and face; amber eyes and gray horns

Sibling: Cardinalspark

Snowfang (P: Snowfur)- white molly with grey tabby points and black scaled ears; black horns and blue eyes

Sibling: Icestar, Featherfall, Cricketsong

Child: Blizzardstorm

Sweetfern (P.Sweetkit)- small white molly with tortoiseshell scale patches and tiny ears, green eyes and brown horns Blacksmith

Apprentice: Ravenpaw

Warblerheart (P.Lionheart)- long furred golden tabby tom with a white scaled belly; green eyes and golden horns

Parents: Specklescorch, Robinwing

Siblings: Peachthorn

Half-Sibling: Addertail

Apprentice: Drizzlepaw

Featherfall (P.Featherkit)- deaf white tom with a white scaled tail; blue eyes and white horns Blacksmith

Parent: Dappletail

Sibling: Cricketsong, Icestar, Snowfang

Blizzardstorm (P.Whitestorm)- snowy white tom with grey tabby points and a scaled tail; yellow eyes Sentinel

Parent: Snowfang

Mate: Willowheart

Child: Drizzlepaw

Apprentice: Sandpaw

Darkstripe- large gray tom with black scaled stripes; yellow eyes and silver horns

Mate: Brindleface

Willowheart (P.Willowpelt)- slender very pale silver-gray molly with dark gray scales along her spine; blue eyes and white horns

Mate: Blizzardhawk

Child: Drizzlepaw

Brindleface- silver dilute tortoiseshell molly with darker scaled flecks; green eyes and silver horns

Parent: Sheepear

Sibling: Frostshine

Mate: Darkstripe

Racoonrustle (P.Redtail)- small black tortoiseshell with a distinctive ginger tail and dark ginger scale patches; amber eyes and brown horns

Parent: Rosetail

Sibling: Spottedleaf

Mate: Wildrunner

Child: Sandpaw

Apprentice: Buzzardpaw

Wildrunner (P.Runningwind)- light brown tabby tom with black scales around his eyes and black scale hooves on his hind legs; green eyes and black horns, formery of Windclan

Parents: Mudclaw, Morningsong

Sibling: Lionwhisker

Mate: Racconrustle

Child: Sandpaw

Addertail (P.Longtail)- pale brown tabby tom with dark black scale stripes and a long tail; blue eyes and silver horns

Parent: Robinwing

Sibling: Lionheart, Peachthorn

Apprentices

Blazepaw (P.Fireheart)- dark ginger molly with black stripe scales on her legs, a white chin and chest along with a white tip tail; green eyes and black horns

Parents: Starlingstar, Garnett, Alexandrite, Quartz

Siblings: Spinel, Ruby, Jade, Opal, Obsidian, Topaz

Tigerpaw- large thick furred dark brown tabby tom with a patch of reddish scales on his throat and unusual long front claws; red eyes and white horns

Half-Sibling: Rosetail

Ravenpaw- skinny black tom with a white dash on his chest and tail along with an extra pair of scaly white paws; green eyes and white horns

Parent: Fuzzythorn

Sibling: Buzzardpaw

Drizzlepaw (P.Graystripe)- massive dark gray and white spotted tabby tom with a dark blue gray stripe along his spine, unusual white scales spotting his face; yellow eyes and white horns

Parents: Blizzardstorm, Willowheart

Sandpaw- light cream brown tabby molly with dark red scale stripes along her back and dark red scale hooves on her hind legs; green eyes and red horns*

Parents: Racconrustle, Wildrunner

Buzzardpaw (P.Dustpelt)- large dark brown tabby tom with dark black scale paws and an extra pair of scaly black paws; green eyes and black horns

Parent: Fuzzythorn

Sibling: Ravenpaw

Monarchs

Speacklescorch (P.Speckletail)- pale golden spotted tabby molly with white scale marking around her face; amber eyes and white horns; Head Caretaker

Mate: Robinwing (ex)

Children: Lionheart, Peachthorn

Peachthorn (P.Goldenflower)- long furred pretty golden spotted molly with pale pinkish scale stripes; yellow eyes and amber horns

Parents: Specklescorch, Robinwing

Siblings:Wablerheart, Addertail

Children: Lynxkit, Harpykit, Sunnykit

Cricketsong- dark blue gray tom with white patches and black scaled back; blue eyes and black horns; Caretaker

Parent: Dappletail

Siblings: Icestar, Snowfang, Featherfall

Mousebite (P.Mousefur)- dusty brown molly with black scales spotting on her right side and belly; orange eyes and brown horns

Parents: Waspeye, Sparrowsong

Kits: Expecting

Frostshine- sleek speckled gray cat with scaled white legs and tail; blue eyes and white horns (they/them)

Parent: Sheepear

Sibling: Brindleface

Mate: Wablerheart

Children: Preparing

Kits

Lynxkit- dark golden molly with patches of brown tabby splotches and a black scaled tail; yellow eyes and black horns

Parent: Peachthorn

Siblings: Harpykit, Sunnykit

Harpykit- huge black molly with silver scales on her throat and belly; green eyes and silver horns

Parent: Peachthorn

Siblings: Lynxkit, Sunnykit

Sunnykit- long furred golden spotted tom with white scale ears and paws; white horns and green eyes

Parent: Peachthorn

Siblings: Harpykit, Sunnykit

Elders

Sparrowsong (P.Halftail)- dark brown tabby tom with patch fur and black scales poking through; yellow eyes and black horns

Mate: Waspeye

Child: Mousebite

Sheepear(P.Smallear)- gray tom with dark brown scale belly and folded ears; yellow eyes and brown horns

Children: Frostshine, Brindleface

Waspeye (P.One-eye)- pale gray molly with scars across her face and a patch of silver scales along her back: virtually blind and dead with one yellow eye and one broken black horn

Mate: Sparrowsong

Child: Mousebite

[warriorsbutnotreally]

I feel like I keep coming back to you for names. This one will follow the normal clan naming scheme. This is for a she-cat. This is a clan where cats have powers. Kits are born with small gems growing from their backs and when they become apprentices they get a special power. Her mother is a powerful warrior who is known for her ability to know the relationships of her clanmates before they actually happen. Like wise, her daughter is a massive hopeless romantic and kinda ships her clanmates with each other. She can also make cats fall in love with each other with a berry she makes. Think Eros but a girl and also a huge closeted lesbian. She can't tell her mother of course because her mother doesn't really agree with gay couples but she comes around eventually. Thats all from me today. Thanks!

Here's an old design for her. I need to redesign her. Have a great day!

Sweetsong is the first name to come to mind

but other possible names;

Hawkflight

Brightfeather

Berrybush

Roseheart

Copperfern

Blazewing

with other good combos from these like Copperwing, Blazefeather, Brightbush, Rosesong, Sweetfern, etc.

[localhollerhaint]

Whats Melungeon?

The question always holds the same meaning, but somehow I still never know the answer to give. They want to know why my skin matches the ridgeline, red like the soil that paints these hills. Why my curls resemble cherry cola and my eyes are like coal, but my brother he’s blonde and his eyes match the sky. So how do I say that to me being Melungeon is when home is in the holler or runnin barefoot on the ridge? It’s bonfires that make the mountains glow like fireflies in the night, and dancing while the world ends but sometimes it is asking gravestones for guidance in my hardest times because I know more ancestors than saints. How do I explain that being Melungeon is throwing your troubles in the river and screaming at the moon? That its finding grace in the sound the green frog makes, because it plucks just like the banjo. Its my memories of corn pone and shuckey beans and sweeping haints away.  Its finding comfort in the smell of sweetfern floating over fresh pine, bacon grease on the back porch, and moonshine in a barrel. How will they understand that being Melungeon feel a lot like floating through space on my own piece of red dirt and cornflowers? How do I tell them that being Melungeon comes from my soul and not from my face?

[jillraggett]

Plant of the Day

Tuesday 8 August 2023

The white umbel flowers of Myrrhis odorata (sweet cicely, anise, British myrrh, great chervil, sweet bracken, sweet fern) are over now but the seed heads make a feature in the wild garden

Jill Raggett

[vlkwsouthpens]

Let's check in on Wendy Meadows...

Let’s check in on Wendy Meadows…

Author Wendy Meadows Wendy is a writer of cozy mysteries; Sweetfern Harbor Series Maple Hill Series and Alaska Cozy Series are just a few. But she as other talents as well. In another life she worked as a graphic designer and puts that expertise to work by designing her own book covers. Wendy also has a hobby farm where she has two mini pigs! A bit about the book Wendy is including in…

[blackswallowtailbutterfly]

Well, if 2020 was the year for clearing out weeds, additional soil amendment where needed, marking out planting areas, and spending a ridiculous amount of time digging large obstructions out of the ground, 2021 was the year for constructing a wall--and putting former obstructions to use!

First to dig, both to carve out the area for the wall and to acquire materials for said wall (rocks).

Excess dirt’s got to go somewhere.

Just about ready to start.

My neighbour was kind enough to assist by gifting me those patio stones he was looking to get rid of, and the black one was on the property I live on, but it was just sitting on the end of the side garden bed. I put it to better use and freed up space for planting.

Coming along. The landlord offered to cut the dead tree root in the middle but I thought it would be neat to leave it pile rocks around it for an interesting separation.

Thought it might be neat to have an upper area. My sweetfern grows there now.

I thought it would be cool to build in the various stumps I’d dug out, for texture.

The middle, with my purple avens newly planted.

Corner with my bog rosemary.

Upper area more or less complete.

But a lot of work to do around it.

My giant rock is now a corner stone!

Coming together!

And done! Sort of. Not really.

Now we’re done!

*Ahem* I meant now.

Which, no, far from it. Had several collapses in the beginning before I stabilized it, that was until after the winter and I had to stabilize it again. Plus I had to gather up aaalll those leftover pebbles. And there was the fact of the fence having been built and my landlord having given me permission to plant along it, as well as by the cedars on the other side, and against the house, but to properly start on that would have to wait till the following year.

[jasonnieadventures]

From writing today -

-

A massive waterfall. Pouring from somewhere above, past the floor of the cavern to somewhere unseen. Jason realized it was white because it was lit by moonlight.

His heart soared. He longed to dive into it and taste it—but he refrained. Instead he crept closer to the ledge, but not too close; it was damp with the spray from the waterfall. Stray splashes hit his face, sparking into his skin. He reached out to let it mist his hand—the glorious kiss of freedom.

He closed his eyes, letting it sprinkle over his tongue. It tasted like damp stone and pine and something sweet—where had he tasted that before—

Sweetfern.

He reveled in it. Thrills raced over his skin.

“I told you it was glorious,” said a voice somewhere outside the light. It only vaguely bothered him. there was a touch at his arm but he ignored it. This vision of freedom was too splendid, too entrancing—

[freshtendril]

I’m trying something new here. I had collected and dried a number of things from the summer/fall and now thinking of some use of them. I don’t know what to call it, so I’ll just go with Foragers Vodka. Now I wait..

With Sweetfern (Comptonia peregrina), Labrador Tea (Ledum groenlandicum), Field Mint, (Mentha arvensis), immature pecan with husk (Carya illinoinensis), Multiflora rose hips (Rosa multiflora), and old field Juniper berries (Juniperus communis v. depressa).