#tree kangaroo joey

[travelmanposts]

Hanson Bay Wildlife Sanctuary, Karatta, South Australia: A koala and her joey cuddling in the fork of a tree.. Hanson Bay Wildlife Sanctuary, Karatta is the best place on Kangaroo Island to see a sustainable population of Koalas in the wild. This is an absolute must for international visitors! Wild & Free.. Kangaroo Island’s Hanson Bay Wildlife Sanctuary is famous for its abundant native bird & animal wildlife.... Karatta is a locality in the Australian state of South Australia located on the south coast of Kangaroo Island. Wikipedia

[feather-bone]

Climbing critters!! Allow me to introduce you to some of the creature club rainforest canopy animals this month - Top left: kinkajou, arboreal musteloid procyonid related to raccoons! Top right: sugar glider, canopy-foraging marsupial with complex social behavior! Bottom left: Matschie’s tree kangaroo, folivorous marsupial, clumsy on the ground but bold and agile in the trees! Bottom right: golden lion tamarin, a small but vibrant new world monkey from Brazil!

[ID: four digital illustrations of the listed animals arranged in a square, on branches and facing in toward one another. The kinkajou has a blue background and is sticking its tongue out. The glider is on a mossy branch against a pink flowery background, the tree kangaroo is on a leafy green background and has a joey in its pouch, and the tamarin faces forward, smiling on a dark green background. The signature on each drawing reads ‘featherbone’. End.]

[bestanimal]

Round 3 - Mammalia - Diprotodontia

(Sources - 1, 2, 3, 4)

Our last order of marsupials, and possibly the first order of marsupials that comes to mind for most people, is Diprotodontia. Diprotodontia is the largest living order of marsupials, containing the families Phascolarctidae (“Koala”), Vombatidae (“wombats”), Burramyidae (“pygmy possums”), Phalangeridae (“brushtail possums” and “cuscuses”), Pseudocheiridae (“ringtailed possums” and kin), Petauridae (“trioks”, “gliders”, and kin), Hypsiprymnodontidae (“Musky Rat-kangaroo”), Macropodidae (“kangaroos”, “wallabies”, “tree-kangaroos”, “wallaroos”, “pademelons”, “quokkas”, and kin), and Potoroidae (“bettongs”, “potoroos”, and “rat-kangaroos”).

"Diprotodont" means “two front teeth”, and refers to the pair of large incisors on these animals’ lower jaws. Another characteristic of diprotodonts is "syndactyly": the second and third digits of the foot up to the base of the claws are fused, leaving the claws themselves separate. The fifth digit is usually absent, and the fourth digit is often greatly enlarged. This diverse marsupial order is restricted to Australasia, filling many of its large mammal niches. Most living diprotodonts are herbivores, though there are a few that are insectivorous or omnivorous.

Like other marsupials, diprotodonts give birth very early in gestation, and the newborns must crawl from their mothers vagina into her pouch and attach themselves to a teat. Mothers often lick their fur to leave a trail of scent for the newborn to follow to increase their chances of reaching the pouch. Joeys will finish their development within their mother’s pouch, eventually venturing out for short periods and returning to her pouch for warmth, protection, and nourishment until they are weaned. Diprotodonts usually only have one to two joeys at a time.

The earliest known fossil of Diprotodontia dates back to the Late Oligocene (23.03 - 28.4 million years ago), and the earliest identifiable species is Hypsiprymnodon bartholomaii from the Early Miocene. Many of the largest diprotodonts (along with a wide range of other Australian megafauna) became extinct when humans first arrived in Australia about 50,000 years ago.

Propaganda under the cut:

The name "wombat" comes from the now nearly extinct Dharug language spoken by the Dharug People, who originally inhabited the Sydney area. The spelling went through many variants over the years, including "wambat", "whombat", "womat", "wombach", and "womback", possibly reflecting dialectal differences in the Dharug language.

The primary defense of wombats is their toughened rear hide, with most of their posterior made of cartilage. When attacked, wombats dive into a nearby tunnel, using their rumps to block a pursuing attacker. There is an urban legend that wombats will sometimes allow an intruder to force its head over the wombat's back, and then use its powerful legs to crush the skull of the predator against the roof of the tunnel, but there is no evidence to support this.

Wombats are known for leaving distinctive cubic faeces. As wombats arrange these feces to mark territories and attract mates, it is believed that the cubic shape makes them more stackable and less likely to roll. It is not well understood how they produce feces in this shape!

Common Wombats (Vombatus ursinus) can be described as ecological engineers, as their burrow building results in soil turnover and aeration, which assists plant growth, and provides habitat for a range of different species, including insects, reptiles, rodents, echidnas, wallabies, and koalas.

The critically endangered Northern Hairy-nosed Wombat (Lasiorhinus krefftii) is one of the rarest land mammals in the world, but thankfully their population is slowly rising thanks to dedicated conservation efforts. Classified as vermin and wiped out by farmers and feral predators, they were once considered extinct, but a population of about 30 individuals was discovered in the 1930s. Predator-proof fences were built around the wombat’s habitat in 2002, and insurance populations have been established in other locations. Today, there are over 400 total Northern Hairy-nosed Wombats.

The Koala (Phascolarctos cinereus) (image 1) has the most effective insulating back fur of any marsupial and is resilient to wind and rain, while the belly fur can reflect solar radiation.

The word "koala" comes from the Dharug gula, meaning 'no water'. This is because koalas do not need to drink often, as they get enough water from their leafy diet (though larger males may additionally drink water found on the ground or in tree hollows).

The Koala has a good sense of smell, and it is known to sniff the oils of individual eucalyptus branchlets to assess their edibility.

Koalas possess unique folds in the velum (soft palate), known as velar vocal folds, in addition to the typical vocal folds of the larynx. These features allow the koala to produce deeper sounds that would otherwise be impossible for their size.

The Koala is classified as vulnerable, however, it is endangered in the Australian Capital Territory, New South Wales, and Queensland as of February 2022, due to climate-change-induced bushfires. There are concerns that these populations may not survive another round of heavy bushfires.

Female Coppery Brushtail Possums (Trichosurus johnstonii) tend to be dominant over males.

The Common Brushtail Possum (Trichosurus vulpecula) is an omnivore. While eucalyptus leaves are a significant part of its diet, it is also known to eat eggs, grubs, and even small mammals such as mice and rats.

The Common Brushtail Possum is one of few marsupials that thrive in cities and a wide range of natural and human-modified environments. Around human habitations, common brushtails are inventive and determined foragers with a liking for fruit trees, vegetable gardens, and kitchen raids.

The critically endangered Talaud Bear Cuscus (Ailurops melanotis) is endemic only to a few islands within the Talaud Islands, Indonesia. It is considered a “Cinderella Species,” one that is aesthetically appealing but generally overlooked and unknown by conservationists, researchers, and the public alike. The conservations that do know of its plight are working with local youths, traditional and religious leaders, and community members on Salibabu Island to change the perception of the species, which faces heavy pressures due to hunting and habitat loss. One of the best ways to support the cuscus, and other endangered animals like it, is through ecotourism. If tourists come to see the rare cuscus, while also supporting local businesses, the community will come to realize the economic benefit as well as the ecological benefit of the animal.

The endangered Woodlark Cuscus (Phalanger lullulae) is the largest mammal living on Woodlark Island, a part of the Milne Bay Province of Papua New Guinea. Its fur is marble-like, with a mix of white, dark brown, and ginger spots on its back and a white underbelly. No two Woodlark Cuscus have the same pattern.

The Common Spotted Cuscus (Spilocuscus maculatus) is typically shy, sluggish, and sloth-like in behavior. However, they can be very territorial, and fights, especially between competing males, can be aggressive and confrontational. If males encounter another male in their area, they make barking, snarling, and hissing noises, and stand upright to defend their territories. They will also scratch, bite, and kick potential predators.

The mouse-sized, critically endangered Mountain Pygmy Possum (Burramys parvus) is the only Australian mammal restricted to an alpine habitat. They feed on fruits, nuts, nectar, and seeds, but about a third of their diet consists of Bogong Moths (Agrotis infusa). These moths migrate to the high alpine mountainous regions during the Spring and Summer months. During these months, Mountain Pygmy Possums utilise Bogong Moths as their main food source. Scientists observed a catastrophic drop in Bogong Moth numbers in the summer of 2018–2019, due to climate-change-induced droughts in the moth's breeding areas. With the lack of moths as a food source during the breeding season, the possums lost litters due to inadequate nourishment. The possums are also threatened by habitat destruction and fragmentation, as well as predation by domestic cats and invasive red foxes. The construction of ski resorts in the alpine regions in which the mountain pygmy possums inhabit has been one of the greatest factors attributed to population decline. At Mount Higginbotham, a major road constructed to the Mount Hotham ski resort prevented male Mountain Pygmy Possums from migrating to the female nesting sites during the breeding season. This physical barrier was noted to markedly increase winter mortality in the Mount Higginbotham population. In response to this, a tunnel was constructed which provided male pygmy possums with an alternative migratory route.

Unusually for possums, Common Ringtail Possums (Pseudocheirus peregrinus) live a gregarious lifestyle which centres on their communal nests, called dreys. A communal nest is made up of an adult female and an adult male, their dependant offspring, and their immature offspring of the previous year. A group of Ringtail Possums may build several dreys at different sites. Ringtail Possums are territorial and will drive away any strangers from their nests.

The Honey Possum (Tarsipes rostratus) is a tiny possum which feeds on nectar and pollen. It is an important pollinator for the Candlestick Banksia (Banksia attenuata), Scarlet Banksia (Banksia coccinea), and the Coastal Jugflower (Adenanthos cuneatus).

Similar to an Aye-aye, the Striped Possum’s (Dactylopsila trivirgata) fourth finger is elongated and is used to detect and pull beetle larvae and caterpillars from tree bark.

The critically endangered Leadbeater's Possum (Gymnobelideus leadbeateri) was the 7,000th animal photographed for The Photo Ark by Joel Sartore.

Members of the Petaurus genus are popular in the exotic pet trade, and the Sugar Glider (Petaurus breviceps) is one of the most popular pet marsupials. However, recent evidence points to most captive gliders, at least in the United States, being Krefft's Gliders (Petaurus notatus), as they are thought to have been captured in West Papua. Either way, both glider species are wild animals that should not be kept as pets, and trade in gliders has a history of cruelty. They have complex needs which can not be adequately met in an individual’s home.

Feathertail Gliders (Acrobates pygmaeus) have fine skin ridges and sweat on their toes that allow their feet to function as suction cups, and they have even proven able to climb vertical panes of glass.

The evolution of tree-kangaroos is particularly convoluted. It appears that the animals were arboreal at some time in the far distant past, moving afterward to the ground and gaining long kangaroo-like feet in the process. Eventually they returned to the trees, where they further developed a shortening and broadening of the hind feet and a novel climbing method.

Bennett's Tree-kangaroos (Dendrolagus bennettianus) are known to be very agile, able to leap 9 metres (30 ft) down to another branch, and have been known to drop as far as 18 metres (59 ft) to the ground without injury.

The endangered Dingiso (Dendrolagus mbaiso) is a tree-kangaroo which is sacred to the Moni People, seen as spirits of their ancestors.

The White-striped Dorcopsis (Dorcopsis hageni) feeds on the fruiting bodies of fungi and may play a part in spreading spores and thus maintaining healthy mycorrhizal communities in the forest.

The Rufous Hare-wallaby (Lagorchestes hirsutus) was once widespread in the central and western deserts of Australia, but predation by domestic cats and red foxes, alongside destructive wildfires, caused the last wild population on mainland Australia to go extinct in the early 1990s. However, the mainland subspecies persisted in captivity, and have recently been reintroduced to predator-exclusion zones in the Newhaven Wildlife Sanctuary and Dirk Hartog Island.

For the Anangu People, the Mala or "hare-wallaby people" are important ancestral beings. For tens of thousands of years, the Mala have watched over them from rocks and caves and walls, guiding them on their relationships with people, plants, and animals, and imparted rules for living and caring for country. Mala Tjukurpa, the Mala Law, is central to their living culture and celebrated in story, song, dance and ceremony.

The Western Grey Kangaroo (Macropus fuliginosus) has the nickname “stinker” because mature males have a distinctive curry-like odour.

The highest ever recorded speed of any kangaroo was 64 km/h (40 mph) set by a large female Eastern Grey Kangaroo (Macropus giganteus).

Red-necked Wallabies (Notamacropus rufogriseus) are mainly solitary but will gather together when there is an abundance of resources. One study demonstrated that these wallabies are able to manage conflict via reconciliation, involving post-conflict reunions after low-intensity fights. However, the wallabies did not reconcile after high-intensity fights, showing that peace-making behavior was dependent on context.

The shy, nocturnal, endangered Black-flanked Rock-wallaby (Petrogale lateralis) lives in colonies and forms lifelong pair bonds, though females will mate with other males. Open relationship icons.

The shy, solitary Black Wallaroo (Osphranter bernardus), the tall and slender Antilopine Kangaroo (Osphranter antilopinus), and the Common Wallaroo (Osphranter robustus) may sometimes group together for safety, especially when gathering to drink at waterholes.

The largest known marsupial of all time was the giant, rhinoceros-sized Diprotodon, which lived 1.77 million to 40,000 years ago and was related to wombats and koalas.

The largest living marsupial, and the largest terrestrial mammal native to Australia, is the Red Kangaroo (Osphranter rufus). Large mature males can stand more than 1.8 metres (5 ft 11 in) tall to the top of the head in upright posture, with the largest confirmed one having been around 2.1 m (6 ft 11 in) tall and weighing 91 kg (201 lb). However, the average Red Kangaroo stands approximately 1.5 m (4 ft 11 in) tall.

Red Kangaroos have been observed to engage in alloparental care, a behaviour in which a female may adopt another female's joey.

[fourmula1]

winter warmers day 8: holiday decorating

follow-up to day 6. max/daniel. 587 words.

-

The kitchen table is spread with sugar cookies – baked and cooled, and bowls of coloured icing sugar, and little paint brushes and popsicle sticks and spoons to decorate their cookies.

Daniel’s sat on the end with Sophie next to him, helping Luka next to her. He’s got Max to his left at the head of the table, and Joey across from himself as they all work on their cookies together. Victoria and Lio and Haley are on the other end. Victoria's husband doing dishes in the kitchen.

Daniel delights in the fact that Sophie found kangaroo-shaped cookie cutters and baked a few ‘roo cookies “so that you will feel like it’s really Christmas”, she’d said.

Next to him, Max is using a tiny paint brush to precisely ice a marching toy soldier cookie, getting the yellow stripe on the pants just right. Across from him, Joey’s Christmas tree is mostly green and with blobs of pink and blue and yellow icing dropped on – the baubles – though the gooeyness of the icing sugar has most of it blending together. It’s the prettiest cookie Daniel’s ever seen.

He's always loved Christmases at home with his parents and his sister’s family – so different to this. Christmas at home is full of sunshine and pool floaties in stockings, watermelon and finger sandwiches, and tossing his niece and nephew over his shoulders into the pool.

Here in Belgium it’s cold and snowy – but cozy. The fireplace is constantly stoked, Sophie keeps dropping mugs of cider and hot chocolate (and Bailey’s) in front of him, and everyone is dressed in matching red pajamas with little white snowflakes on them – Christmas Eve gifts from Sophie to everyone.

It’s nice, a cold wintry Christmas, Daniel thinks.

When the table is filled with iced snow flakes and Christmas trees and marching toy soldiers and Santa Clauses and kangaroos, when kids’ sticky hands and faces are washed and little ones tucked up to bed – though Daniel’s sure no sleep will be had, the cousins all far too excited for Santa to come – Daniel’s snapping a photo of the cookies on the table when Sophie comes up, bumping her hip against his.

“This one’s for you,” she says, holding out a cookie she’d decorated unbeknownst to Daniel.

It’s round – a shape he hadn’t seen on the table anywhere – and painted with colourful sugar icing – red, yellow, and blue. A perfect beach ball, with little white stripes between each coloured section. Daniel wants to keep this cookie forever. Preserve it in a glass box and put it on the mantle at home in Perth.

He can’t help but swallow the lump in his throat.

Bringing Joey clear across the world for their first Christmas in Europe had been so incredibly special. Getting to watch their son with his cousins and grandmother and aunt and uncle… getting to see Joey experience his first snow, and snow man, and snow suit…

And having his mother-in-law so effortless include his own feelings about Christmas into their celebrations. The kangaroo cookie cutters. The beach ball pool toy cookie she’d made sneakily just for him.

It was a lot.

“Soph’,” Daniel nearly chokes, taking the precious little cookie from her and looking at it.

Her arm curls around his shoulders and gives him a squeeze, and Daniel leans into her mum embrace, thinks fondly of his own mum at home while he does it.

“Thank you for bringing my boys here for the holidays,” she says, rubbing his arm gently. “All three of you.”

[kaythefloppa]

Activate Kid Power: Thoughts - [Part 1] [SPOILERS]

Fuck it, I'm gonna live-blog the special because I'm that hyped for it. Y'all know how it is, spoilers (also since it's a two parter, I'll more than likely be splitting this review in half). Let's gooo!

Out of all the intro variants for the one-hour specials, this is probably my favorite. They locked the fuck in here (also where the fuck are Gavin and Ronan)

Given how most episodes of the show, ESPECIALLY in the modern seasons are aired out of order, I was very surprised at how they managed to properly place Bumblezzz before this episode (and given that it was in the previous batch of episodes, it feels very nice to see some strong continuity here).

Also the Bumblebee Power Suit is fucking awesome, I cannot stress this enough how much of a win this is for me.

More CPS lore I shall FEAAASTTT

But also.... there were episodes where the brothers activated multiple Creature Powers in rapid succession (the biggest example I can find is the Christmas special). If the efficiency of the capacitator is in need of an update, they must be using it a LOT here. I'm not gonna pretend to fully understand it, but one way or another, this actually does check out.

This rescue is very low-stakes but you know what? I fucks with that heavily! I like it!

But also... could Martin have not activated his suit so that they could both carry it?

Callbacks, callbacks everywhere!

Given how badly the wildfires have devastated Australia several years back, and the effect it has had on the populace as well as the wildlife, the episode shedding a light on this as a conflict is in very good taste. So far so good.

This is the second time in a row where a musical number in a Wild Kratts special HASN'T sucked... and again that's just because of the low bar.

This is the most 5/10 song in the entiredy of the series. It's clear that there was far more musical direction here than in the other songs from previous episodes but still... their singing is.... not great. The one thing that saves it for me is the fact that they actually had Pure West provide a chorus in the song's second half which is something that I've wanted to see in the show for years since they did a great job on the theme song. Like, literally skip to the chorus and this song is far easier to stomach.

But they immediately undercut it by making it so short. On one hand, it's mercilessly short like the song from the Earth Day special but on the other hand, I feel like had they just given things more time to cook this would've been... more decent than it is (it's still better than Disney's Wish but again, low bar). Also, this feels like it's ripping off Lin Manuel Miranda, either that or I've listened to the soundtrack of Mufasa: The Lion King.

That being said, the visuals are fucking amazing. It actually manages to carry the song in the way that the vocals and direction doesn't. Also this confirms the existence of a Humpback Whale Suit, meaning this episode is INDEED aired out of order, or there was a Humpback episode that for some reason wasn't televised. Still, PEAK!

Oh my god we FINALLY got to see Martin in Adult Kangaroo Power! Finally some retribution after seeing him in the bloody Joey Suit for over a decade in any WK supplementary material (now show Chris in Joey Powers and the world will be balanced).

And Koala Balloon?? Holy shit, cakes!

Somebody save that poor baby 🥺

What... the fuck?!

I literally have no words for this, I... I genuinely don't. Did Aviva friggin' make multiple Plant Power Discs besides Oak Tree and Grass? Because yeah that's a cool concept, but they are aware of all the sh*t the bros have gotten themselves into in the Plant Suits right? Right? Martin getting pissed on and almost chopped down, the brothers nearly getting chomped by bison, Chris almost getting gobbled by an elephant as a nut? Like, it's funny, and it is lowkey interesting, but still I cannot help but ask.... What the fuck?!

Also, Aviva made a Creature/Plant Power Suit with EDIBLE LEAVES that can be yanked off of the user and eaten. At this point, the body horror AUs just write themselves.

Again, I must ask, why the fuck is this even a thing??? Aviva made a plant power suit... without the ability to move or even deactivate?? We know from Season 3 that she modified the Grass Suits to go mobile which at least allowed them to run. Why is it not the case here?? Much like the stupid "rewind and re-activate" bs from the previous special, it just feels like a total asspull that leaves me gobsmacked.

Obviously this can't be Paisley's doing since she's good now, but then... what does this mean? Is it a random road? Is this Rex's doing? I'm curious.

That hole looks at least 2-3 feet deep. I am pretty sure the mother bear can just hop in, pick up the cub, and climb out. What is this framing?

Ecstatic that my prediction was right and that we'd be seeing Elk Powers but now I'm very interested involving the timeline (bc ofc I am). Because we've seen a Humpback Suit, a Eucalyptus Suit, and an Elk Suit. How many un-televised adventures were they? I'm going to assume that these were all just off-screen, because if this episode indeed WAS aired out of order, well then...

Ok this suit I can buy because the suit was mentioned back in Season 1's Octopus Wildkratticus, and the disc was also portrayed in the show's merchandise.

That out of the way HOLY SHIT YES KOALA POWERS!!!! I FUCKING LOVE IT SOO MUCH I WANNA HUG HIM!

...I am somewhat off-put by the fact that he's human sized... but idgaf I love it.

NINA HOW I HAVE MISSED YOU!!!

You still haven't invented one for Jimmy tho.

Also, on one hand it feels weird for Aviva to not be concerned about the Power Suits' capacitiy, especially considering how sensitive the equipment is (as she says so herself). But at the same time, years of using these suits and pulling off rescues would naturally desensitize her, and we've seen her flaws in the show be overconfidence and/or hubris (especially in the earlier seasons). It's either accidentally out of character or insane levels of character development, either which deserved a mention.

I think this is yet another time to praise the art direction, because it is awesome. Season 7's animation overall has been pretty stellar, a massive step up from the previous seasons whilst retaining to the show's art style (once again, a result of the 2 year long hiatus between Seasons 6 and 7 to get new builders onto the team for rigging). The colors are composed perfectly and the linework is beautiful, and this is one of many times in the special where it's just so pretty to look at. Nina actually looks older, which wasn't the attention, but it's a happy accident because her animation is THAT friggin' good.

Another continuity bit: In the Season 4 premiere "The Last Largest Lobster" the brothers suggested Aviva programs a blank disc into Seagull Power. This episode has so many deep cuts I f*cking love it.

Red zone babeeeeyy time for some ANGST!!

I love the trope where the hero loses their powers/trademark abilities and they have to rely on other assets at their disposal. It's a fun trope for a reason and allows for some really ingenuitive writing and good morals. Bottom line, I like it, and I like how the special sets this up by having the kids interact with the crew in the first half of the episode. It's exhibited in the typical kids' show fashion, but that's exactly what makes it beautiful.

So it's very clear that this one hour special will NOT feature any villains. And on one hand, part of me thinks this special could have benefitted from it. But on the other hand, the story is delivered in such a way to where it CAN work without them, especially to allow the message to shine through. We're long overdue for a one-hour special that doesn't shoehorn in a villain team up and can actually generate an interesting conflict without them and... this kinda delivers. I am surprisingly okay with this!

Oh and it's also really charming as well!

Again, this episode really wants to take its time with how it portrays its moral and story. I thought that some scenes were going to be rushed, but no, they allow it to cook for the right amount of time.

SECOND HALF OF THE REVIEW HERE:

[henk-heijmans]

A mother eastern grey kangaroo and her joey, surrounded by burnt trees; survivors of a bushfire in Mallacoota, Australia, 2020 - by Jo-Anne McArthur (1976), Canadian

[ironychan]

It seems we're getting the lander back sooner than we thought.  The gigaducks' eggs hatched a couple of days ago, and once the ducklings dried out and fluffed up, they climbed right out and dropped ten metres to the ground.  Reynolds says this is normal duck behaviour.  It didn't seem to hurt most of them.  They just got up and followed the adults to the river.

This makes me wonder where they normally nest.  It can't be out here on the flat if plummeting headlong from the nest is how their lives are supposed to begin.  Do they normally choose trees or cliffs?  Are these ones only hanging around because the lander is here?  Did we bring the ducks on ourselves?

I said the fall didn't hurt most of them.  There were a couple that didn't make it.  One bounced off the side of the lander, which either killed or stunned it, and a saber-toothed shiba that had been waiting underneath dashed out to snatch it up.  This did not sit well with mama duck.  A fight ensued in which the shiba, incredibly, lost.

After the ducks departed, we went to take a look at the shiba and found that it was actually dead - the duck had broken its neck.  It's belly was moving, however, and to everybody's surprise, two puppies squirmed out.  It's a good thing we had an Australian along because the rest of us honestly couldn't figure out if they'd chewed their way out or what, until Ireland said, "oh, hey, it's a marsupial."

The shibas aren't dogs at all, it's just an insane convergent evolution thing.  Either the'yre descended from somebody's pet kangaroo or else they're opossums, and we're not sure which is worse.  Now we're questioning every dog-like thing we've seen.  The weaselschnitzel?  The lykopard?  All those watchdogs?

Boonmee took the joeys back to her tent with her, but we're not sure they're gonna live very long when she's got nothing to feed them.  This led to today's second surprise, when a macawk came and perched on the EHM's roof, as if just waiting for her to turn her back so it could nab one.  She waved at it and shouted, "fuck off!"

The macawk spread its wings and showed her its eyespots, and shouted "fuck off!" right back.

It wasn't very good at it - it couldn't make the f sound so it was more of an "ock-aww!" but it was definitely intended to be an imitation of her.  This shocked everybody else, but I realized: of course they can do that!  The ones at the triceracow carcass imitated the night screamers and shibas to try to drive them off.  I guess that's their thing.  When they get threatened, they use their eyespots and voices to say, "I'm you but bigger!"

[loop-hole-319]

South Park Monster AU

Stan - werewolf, He can't hunt because the sight of blood terrifies him. Had a panic attack the first time he saw Kyle shed his antlers. Was separated from his family by poachers and witnessed his pack be skinned alive before Wendy saved him. Can't he can't shift away his legs, tail and ears because of the trauma. Codependent relationship both Wendy and Kyle and must be next to one or the other. Dating Wendy, in a queer platonic relationship with Kyle. Smallest wolf form of the shifters. He is in charge of forageing and gathering.

Wendy - Kumiho, Has the highest kill count of poachers and other monster hunters. Before she joined the caravan, her goal was to kill as many poachers as possible and to take down every camp she came across. Her new goal is to escort the caravan to the safe zone. She is the leader of the werewolves in the caravan and is in charge of making big decisions. She and Kyle basically the leaders of the caravan.

Red/Rebecca - Huldra foxtail variant, She was going to kill and eat Clyde when the caravan stopped by a town. The group had sent some disguised members in together for supplies. She joined the caravan when she realized they were headed south to the Al's monster reserve. She is in charge of blending in with humans and the occasional shopping in towns.

Bebe - Secretary Bird Harpy, Bebe meet the caravan by decapitating a Hunter who was chasing Ike and Tricia while they were playing a little too far from camp. She and Tweek most often take up guard duty for the caravans campsites.

Butters - Cockatiel Harpy, Was raised in captivity for his entire life as a victim was the monster pet trade. His owners were abusive and also never let him sing. This caused him to stress pluck his feathers. Kenny helped teach him how to fly after rescuing him. They joined the caravan a year after he was freed. Got shot by a hunter and had to ride on Kyle until he healed.

Kenny - Reanimated corpse, Dating Butters who he saved from his abusive owners. Hollowed out his chest cavity to make room for storage. Sometimes he carries Karen in there, they like to play Kangaroo and Joey. He doesn't remember anything about his past life, but he woke up in a creepy Hunter's taxidermy cabin. Once he ate Kyle's velvet shed. This made Stan pass out. Cartman calls him a "shitty piece of taxidermy".

Karen - Voodoo Doll, She knows for a fact that Kenny Is her big brother, she can feel it in her soul. Is the 2nd smallest of the entire group. She stores needles and thread in her body for her and her brothers repairs. She is either carried by Kenny, flies with Butters or rides in one of Kyle's saddle bags.

Tweek - Imp, Freaked the fuck out the first time he saw Kyle shed his antlers. Dating Craig. Was scared of Tricia at first but now will Carry her whenever she asks. He Butters and Bebe are scouts for the caravan. But after Butters was shot down by a hunter he refuses to fly above the tree line. He has ripped a hunters arm off in defence of Craig. If a human gets too close to the caravan's campsite, he will become hysterical and attack the human Hunter. His sense of smell is slightly better than the Harpy's.

Craig - Fuzzy Horned Cyclops, (Yes from that one comic) Poachers got his parents, leaving him in charge of Tricias safety. He is determined to her, himself and Tweek to Big Gay Al the Wizard's monster sanctuary. They both lack depth perception and have a better sense of smell than the Werewolves in their human forms.

Tricia - Fuzzy Horned Cyclops, She takes advantage of the fact that she is small and gets free rides from Kyle. She and will constantly run it in Cartman's face at every chance she gets. Loves to sit in the loaf position on Kyle's rump and flick him off. Craig and Kyle told her to hide his saddlebacks when they run into hunters. She is petrified of hunters and poachers.

Jimmy - Satyr, Legs are still fucked up but he plays the pan flute outstandingly well. Whenever the caravan is separated he will play certain songs to communicate with the others. He is in charge of giving signals to the caravan when they are spread out. Kyle gives him free rides whenever he wants. Once jousted a man off of a motorcycle while riding Kyle. His alert songs mimic bird calls.

Clyde - Werewolf, He met the caravan while they were setting up camp for the night. He had recently lost his pack and didn't know how to hunt so he was starving. Clyde bit Kyle on the ass and then got his nose broken and knocked out with a kick for his efforts. Even several months later he is wary of standing directly behind Kyle. Is dating Bebe, she calls him her baby girl. Has PTSD from the poacher attack on his pack. Good friends with Stan because of their similar trauma. Terrified of gunshots.

Tolkien - Werewolf with direwolf ancestry, His dire Wolf blood is several generations diluted so he isn't as big but is still the third biggest of the caravan. When He was a puppy, he was shot in his right arm by a hunter giving him a limp in Wolf form.

Kyle - Red deer Cervitaur, His grandma on his mom's side was a Jersey Devil completely replacing his deer nerves with Jersey rage. Craig and Kenny have an agreement with him that if things go to shit because he is to take the little siblings and run. He can run up to 35 mph if no one is on his back. He is the dedicated mom friend of the group and will force anyone who is injured to ride on his back. Doesn't understand Kenny's jokes about 'riding' him. His summer migration spot was right next to Stan's den causing them to become best friends, although due to hunters he stopped coming 3 years ago. Stan thought he was dead and they had an emotional reunion. He doesn't pronk unless he is extremely happy only Stan and Cartman have seen him do it before.

Ike- Moose Faun, Although he is one of the smallest of the caravan, he will grow to be the tallest of the group. He knows he'll grow up to be absolutely massive so he takes as many rides from his brother as he can now. One of his strongest memories is hiding under Kyle's cloak snuggled up to his back in the dead of winter, a little bit before they meet Eric. Likes to play RAM with Tricia as they both only have nubs for horns.

Blanket - Parakeet Harpy, Was taken from his nest at a young age by poachers. But was rescued by Kyle when he went on a murderous rampage through the camp for trying to take his brother. Can be found sitting on Kyle's antlers or nesting in his fluff. Best friends with Karen. Is the smallest of the group.

Cartman - Gargoyle, The only animated gargoyle of a burnt out mansion. He came to life after the mansion was abandoned with only the company of the ghosts of the former residents and a and drunkered Cherub. He was out looking for the monster hunting party that had been harassing him when he met Kyle who had been hurt by one of their traps. Kenny and him take the night shift because neither of them need sleep. Is the only one of the caravan to never have ridden on Kyle and this pisses him off. Good friends with Ike and Blanket One of his horns is broken from a gunshot.

Timmy - Merfolk, His disability prevents him from transforming his tail into legs. He lived in the lake next to the hunter's cabin that the caravan hunkered down at for the winter. He met them when they travel to the lake for water. He has a service cockatrice named Gobbles, who looks like he's been run over several times. He joined the Caravan at the end of winter and road on a sled that Stan had built.

"God damnit Clyde and Stan! Your supposed to ferocious fucking werewolves! Not a couple of prissy little purse dogs who sit there pissing themselves while they're kick ass girlfriends do all the work!"

- Cartman after he had to take a bullet for Kyle because the two of them froze up when a hunter pulled a gun out. He's fine, He's bullet resistant.

[local-hellhound-steals-spaghetti]

Hello! Recently my family discovered a place called "Sustainable Safari" that promised people they could pet kangaroos and see exotic wildlife. It ended up being a store in a mall, with no windows and claustrophobic amounts of space. I don't know enough about kangaroos or the behavior of the other animals, but they seemed lethargic, one kangaroo was attacking another and had to be wrestled by an employee, and one weasel-like creature was running and pacing the length of his cage. Is there somewhere I could report this place to? Or some sort of welfare check?

Oh America why are you like this? Researching this place gave me psychic damage so I apologise for the long winded response.

What you've described sounds like an absolute nightmare. So I looked through their website... And it's... really bad. They boast over 100 species - they have a Coati! Binturongs! Capybaras! Thomson Gazelles! In a mall in very small enclosures! And they say they're getting even more species! What the heeckkkkkk

Most of them are species that have absolutely no business being in a mall under artificial light all day - including endangered and threatened species and nocturnal species (Bush Babies have eyes specifically for seeing the the dark but sure lets flood them with light all day). This facility is very much prioritising "exotic" encounters over practical and reasonable species with the welfare of the animals in mind.

Way too many hands on that Binturong - please give him some trees to climb omg

Not appropriate substrate for red kangaroos, no grazing/foraging, way too many animals (not surprising they're probably needing to breed a lot of them for the joey holding)

They also have a timed holding of wild animals (including a need to have a constant supply for kangaroo joeys for holding - just a new form of cub petting with a less regulated species), with nothing said about whether they're rotating multiple animals, if animals are getting breaks ect.

There's no informations about animal living conditions outside of the mall except that they rotated from "a farm" - big red flag for transparency.

I really hate what is essentially "conservation washing" with something like this. They claim this is all about education and conservation of species - but these animals aren't in anything that resembles their wild habitat to make those conservation message connections work. And there's just no way that nocturnal animals and animals that live in very isolated areas of the world - in jungles, rainforests ect. Are appropriate ambassador animals for conservation messages.

I'm actually shocked at this list: https://sustainablesafari.net/safari-species/ this is insane.

The emphasis on each holding being so cheap and only 4 minutes feels like a way to get as many people through the door holding animals. And you'd have to have *a lot* of Fennec Foxes and kangaroo joeys to make that sustainable and not just an animal that's forced to be touched for hours.

Every "Guided Safari" has about 5 time slots which all involve handling and interactions with "exclusive species". It honestly makes me physically ill seeing the species list.

Yeah no animals should be kept like this. Ambassador species should be appropriate for the environment they're brought out into. Not just the most exotic and rare species you can get (seriously how the hell did they get these animals this is insane, not even accredited zoos have some of these species)

Since they're licensed by the USDA, that would be the place to send a complaint. The fact they got a license for interaction programs with these animals is insane to me. USDA is.... not great at holding facilities accountable.

Maybe someone knows more about this facility and will say its fine but honestly I cannot ethically condone any sort of interaction program like this.

[orangeocelotmartyn]

Martyn: "Martyn what's your favorite animal I wanted to draw you a little character so asking for a friend." My favorite animal is the tree kangaroo. (reads chat, off topic) "Tinie Tempah" yes, yes yes yes yes yes. Uh, yeah, my favorite animal is the tree kangaroo. A lot of people haven't heard of it, it's literally a monkey and uh, a kangaroo combined. They found it in the...rainforest. In northern Australia. Look at how cute...this bugger is. Look at 'em. Telling me that's not the cutest thing you've ever seen in your life. It even has a little pouch for the little joey to go in. They are so cute it hurts--look at that one. Look at the baby! They have them at Bristol zoo, and I lost my mind when I learned that detail. I had to go and see them that day. As soon as I found out, I was literally like, 'right, we're going to the zoo today! That's it, we're going to the zoo!'

[neurosbackupblog]

I haven’t had much time to do stuff for @tricrackweek since I’m in the middle of revision, but I’d figure I’d put out some quick doodles for the day 1 prompt.

(Technically not quite furry, but it’s an au I’ve had in my head for a while. Think early 2000’s underrated Don Bluth film.)

The twins are both Thylacines - Rem finds them when she accidentally hits their birth mum with a car, initially thinking it was just a fox or something. Surprise! It’s a back-from-the-dead extinct animal and she’s got a couple of joeys still in her pouch!

Everyone is naturally a bit surprised when the depressed lady who can barely take care of herself decides to adopt a couple of greyhound puppies (except greyhounds usually don’t have stripes… or pouches…)

Vash is a tail amputee - Knives considered it too distinct of a feature and ‘accidentally’ dropped a tree trunk on it.

Milly is a kangaroo - big.

Meryl is a noisy miner - small, tenacious and incredibly annoying if the situation calls for it.

Elendria is a magpie, more classy than her butcherbird relatives but no less murderous. Female maggies have grey dappled backs whilst males have white ones, so she makes a point to preen herself with a little bit of charcoal every day.

Wolfwood is a Belgian Malinois/Dingo which is about as nightmarish of a breed you can get.

Unless you’re Livio or Razlo, who are a Husky/Dingo. My pet tornado siren who isn’t even fully domesticated.

Some bonuses - Midvalley’s a Lyrebird and Legato’s a crow. The latter tends to bicker with Elendria a lot - corvida on corvida violence!

[boygiwrites]

Harley D. Dixon 2

An amazing edit inspired by this story! (Cred to Cora_Line99) Harley D. Dixon's Pinterest Board! Harley D. Dixon's Playlist!

📖Chapter List.

Author's Note. Get ready for the first major change in the canon story-line hehe

Please enjoy reading! :)

"You want me to sing tonight, chicken?"

It's way past my bed-time. The sky looks like a giant film of blue cellophane above us, with millions of little white holes poked through. I pick out the shiniest one, 'cause that one's my Momma. Then I realise I gotta pick one out for Uncle Merle, now, too, so I pick the one right next to Momma's and wish him goodnight in my head.

After my Dad dragged all our stuff further into the woods, because we shouldn't sleep next to people we don't trust, we curled up in his camping chair and we haven't moved since. I'm wrapped up in a grubby gray blanket that I think used to be white, 'cause it's all we got, and I'm wearing two pairs of socks plus my Dad's jacket but it's still cold. I feel like a baby joey in a Momma kangaroo's pouch. Through the trees, I can see the main camp's fires all glittering like tiny orange fireflies and I can hear 'em all laughing. I think they're celebrating. Me and my Dad — We're mourning.

Tomorrow, they're heading back to the city to look for my Uncle Merle, even though we all know he's dead already. He's dead and he's gone and he ain't never coming back, so why does my Daddy wanna go get killed, too? Don't he know I need him?

"I don't wanna go to sleep."

"Well," He reminds me, "Sometimes it don't matter what little girls want. I'm sayin' it's time to sleep, so it's time to sleep."

If he wanted to talk about it, I'd tell him that I don't wanna go to sleep because it means that when I wake up, it'll be the day my Daddy either dies in the city or he doesn't, and then I'll be all alone forever. I don't wanna pick a star out for my Dad. But I don't tell him any of this.

"Now, you want me to sing, or not?" He asks me again.

"I said," And half-way through I'm huffing this out, I know I've made a mistake, but I keep goin', anyway, because at least if I make him super angry, he might wanna talk. Unlike Officer Rick, my Dad is easy to make angry. "I don't wanna go to sleep."

I feel his stomach fill with air underneath me. "Scuse me?"

I twist to face him. Half his face is glowing from the fire, and the other half is glowing just from how mad he is.

"I... don't... wanna," I spell it out real slow. That's what people do when someone's not listenin' properly. "Go... to... sleep."

I hear main camp laughing again. For just a second, I wish I was over there, instead.

I look my Dad in the eye. It's really hard.

"You lookin' for a spanking, Harley Dixon?"

"No," My voice wobbles.

"'Cause you keep back-chattin' me, that's where you're headed."

"But—"

"What I just say?"

I snap my mouth shut like a kettle lid. Does he even have the words in him? Do I gotta beat on his chest 'till they come flying out? Do I gotta kick and yell and scream 'till he can't hold 'em in anymore? What do I gotta do to make him talk? How am I meant to like it over here, in this lonely camp with no Momma and no Uncle and maybe after tomorrow, no Dad, neither?

"Quit that look, Harley Dixon. I'm warnin' you."

"No."

"You really gonna make me repeat myself?"

I snap.

"Maybe I'on care!" I shout. We're both shocked. Then, he's about to lay me over his knee and whoop me 'till I'm black and blue, but I don't stop for nothin'. "Maybe I'on give a crap! I said I don't wanna go to sleep, so why you makin' me? I don't wanna! Uncle Merle's dead! He's dead and you don't even care!"

"How can you say tha—"

"You don't care because you're goin' back to the city tomorrow and you're gonna die, and I'm gonna be alone again, and you don't even care! Uncle Merle is dead! Just like Momma, he's dead!"

"We don't know that, Harley."

"Yeah, we do! Rick killed 'im, and now he's dead."

"That ain't true. Harley, you listen—"

He grabs my arms, but I smack him away. He gets angrier.

He points a finger in my face. "Do not fuckin' hit me, girl."

"I'on care."

Now he really grabs me, and it's so tight I can't smack him at all, or wriggle, or even look away. I see two miniature versions of our campfire in his eyes, burning away. It's a familiar look. I start to cry. I wish I wasn't here. I wanna be in main camp, where they're laughing.

"You stop this bullshit right now, Harley." He says, low. "I don't know what's gotten into you, but if it don't stop right this second, you're gonna regret it. You understand? Don't you ever hit me again. I'm leavin' tomorrow, and that's final."

"But why?"

"'Cause I'm choosin' to believe in yer Uncle Merle. You heard what all them said. There's a chance he ain't dead, and that's a chance I'm gonna take, because I'm a Dixon. Dixons look out for each other." He gives me a little shake. "If it were either one of us in that city, he'd be raisin' Hell on his way there already. Now, I don't wanna hear another word outcher mouth 'bout this. No more tears, neither. Got it?"

It's still not good enough. I want more.

"You wouldn't go back for Momma." I mutter, before I even realise that's what I've chosen to say. Somehow, that's the worst thing I've told my Dad all night, and I didn't even need to shout it. We stare at each other for a bit. "You wouldn't go back for her. You killed her."

I promised I'd never bring it up again, but there it is. I said it.

I think I might throw up again.

Just like that, our argument is over. He doesn't say anything, and then I don't say anything, either, and the not-saying-anything keeps going until we're back to sitting against each other in silence. The moon is high in the trees, now. One by one, the orange blips in the distance die. The chatter gets quieter and quieter until it's gone, and then me and my Dad are truly alone. He holds me tight, but it doesn't feel nice like it did before. It just feels like we're back to square one, because we are, and everything is a little to the left. Like when you get a pebble in the corner of your shoe, and you gotta walk a little funny to pretend it's not there, but it is, and you can feel it, and you hate it.

"You want me to sing for you, chicken?"

This time, I just say yes.

I watch the cube van drive into the distance until it's a white speck.

Dale stands next to me, even after everyone else has shuffled back to camp. "You've probably heard this from ten other people by now," Dale says, holding onto the strap of his heavy sniper rifle, "But your Dad? Well, he's going to be just fine. Toughest man in camp, I'd say."

My Dad, he's tough as nails, and he could shoot a walnut off a fencepost from a mile away, but he's also just a man. He's just skin and bones and blood like everyone else, like me, like deer and squirrels, and a bite from a dead person will kill him just the same. I don't say this to Dale.

He doesn't seem to mind. "Do you remember your first day here?"

A strange thing to ask. 'Course I remember. "What about it?"

"Things were a little more desperate, back then. We'd just ran out of our last tin of beans. People were hungry. I remember your Dad spent the whole morning telling people to leave him alone, because everybody was just begging him to go hunting. I think I did, too." Dale laughs. "One by one, he shot them all down. We were all so sure we'd have to start rationing. Then, the next morning, I go to wash my face behind the RV, and what do I see? Your Dad, dinged up and covered in sweat, dragging this... just... huge, simply huge... deer, into camp. I was gobsmacked. I remember thinking, 'who on Earth could have possibly convinced this stubborn man to go hunting'? Then, later in the day, I see him handing you a bowl of fried deer meat, happy as a clam, and that's when I knew he did it all for you. Tooth and nail, he made sure you were fed. And that's how I know he's coming back."

I think about all the times my Dad's done somethin' like that for me, like with Ronnie, and I feel a little better. My Momma once said my Dad would crawl back out of Hell on hot coals for me, and that I should never forget that. I feel bad for forgetting.

"I didn't tell him I love him, before he left." I admit to Dale. "I was real mean to him last night. I wish I told him."

"That's okay," Dale bumps my shoulder, and when I look up, there's a smile in his white beard. He winks. "I think he knows. Dads always know."

Something about Dale's cheeky attitude makes me giggle. I think I believe him.

"Now, lucky for us, we're certainly not short on food around here anymore. So, how about we go get you some breakfast?"

The day goes by like it always does, 'cause it don't know any better.

I can see Amy and Andrea fishing from the bank of the lake. Their boat looks like a little grain of salt in the middle of a giant green coin.

I'm up to my knees in the water. I'm trying to catch frogs. I'm missing. Shane and Carl are here, too, because even though we ate a whole sleeve of cheese and onion crackers for breakfast, Officer Shane says frog legs are gonna be all the rave, soon, when the peaches and jerky run out. We told him that's super gross, but he just smacked his lips and told us to grab our hats. We gotta do things like this, now. Things like sharing one tube of toothpaste, and only using two squares of toilet paper when you gotta go, and the adults gotta try and make it sound fun. 

I hear Carl somewhere down the rocks, going awww and man 'cause he keeps missing, too. All I know 'bout Carl is he can't spell 'adventure'.

"Hey, man, it happens. How you doin' over there, Harley?" Officer Shane asks me. "You managed to catch any of the little suckers yet?"

"No, not yet." I say. "But I can see 'em."

When we first got down here, Shane asked us kids to provide a little muscle for him. Shane's got plenty of muscle, already. He was just kiddin'. He does that a lot, and his laugh is real loud. He also gives high fives that knock you on your butt, and he's got a heavy walk and a dog tag. I think he must have taught little league, or somethin', before, 'cause he talks like a teacher. All fun and games, but also lots of rules. Like how if you say a bad word, he flicks you on the ear and tells you to mind your language.

I'm still not used to any of these people talking to me. I think they're just glad I ain't biting and hitting on them, anymore.

"How many's in there?" Shane wades over to me.

The only reason I trust Shane is because he's an adult, and adults can be trusted.

I count the frogs. "Um... Three."

"Three? Hm, talk about a gold mine, huh?" He laughs and, yep, it's real loud. "Let's see if I can't help you out here."

He sets our bucket down, which has two wet frogs slipping around inside it.

He rubs his hands together. "C'mon, girl. Let's catch us some frog legs."

He says they eat frog legs in France. I never knew that before today. French people are weirdos.

"You gotta get 'em quick, 'cause they're quicker." I warn Shane. It's something my Dad says 'bout squirrels and possums, so I say it now, too.

"Sure are." Shane agrees. "How 'bout I scare 'em out, and you try grabbin' one?"

"With my hands?"

"What? You plannin' on using your feet?" Shane grins, and he splashes me. I giggle. "C'mon. Get ready."

Officer Shane rolls up his blue sleeves. I take three long steps backward and squat a little, like I'm playin' basketball or somethin', and then Shane grabs the metal bucket and clangs it against the rocks, and all three of the fat froggies come bursting out into the water like wind-up toys. I almost panic — almost — but that's what idiots do, so I steel myself, which means I'm not an idiot. I lunge at the closest frog and wrap my hands around the green blob it makes under the ripples.

When I pull my hands out, I realise I've caught it. It's real wriggly and its skin is cold.

I jump a little, smiling wide. "Look, Shane! I got one!"

"Way to go, Harley!" Shane says, and if I pretend hard enough, it sounds like my Dad's accent praising me instead. "Look at you!"

I drop the frog in the bucket. I hear cheering, and when I look out, I see it's Amy and Andrea. They're clapping. I guess they were watching. Carl comes hopping over, too, and tells me I did a good job. I know he's a bastard cop, and I know his friend murdered my Uncle, but maybe Shane ain't so bad. He makes me miss my teachers. Maybe this group ain't so bad. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

We call it a day after that, and we squeeze out all the water in our clothes on the gravel shore.

"C'mon, y'all," Shane says, "Time to haul butt back to camp."

What he really means to say is ass.

The sky goes from blue to purple, and soon, it'll be black.

We're gonna have a feast tonight. A fish feast.

Dale, who's sitting up on the RV, because he's like a barnacle on a boat, reads us a poetry book while we scrape scales off of fish with plastic spoons. After the book runs out, we pop cassettes in the radio. It's nothin' like what my Dad listens to. It's too nice.

I try really hard not to think about my stomach. It hurts real bad, which is what happens when you're nervous. I realise, a little guiltily, that I almost haven't thought about my Daddy or my Uncle Merle all day, until just now. I say sorry to them in my head, because I didn't do it on purpose, I promise. I was just focused on other things, like doing dishes, and getting my hair brushed by Lori, and strippin' fish skin. It was easy, during the day. But it's gettin' late, now, and every minute that goes by, I'm closer to being the only kid in camp with nobody to tuck me into bed.

I'm standing on a crate, which means I'm almost as tall as all the ladies. Makes me feel a little better. All women remind me of my Momma.

Maybe if I ask, Lori can tuck me in tonight.

"Hey, Harley, you're doin' real good over there." Jacqui tells me. The sun's on her shoulder. "Doin' better than me, at least."

I mumble a thank you, because it's good manners. I done dressed plenty of fish before. It's easy. Like peelin' bananas.

"Our Dad used to take us girls fishing all the time." Andrea tells us. "Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, you name it. We were out on the water."

"Sounds fun," Lori says. "I always wanted to go fishing with Rick and Carl, but it never happened. We were indoor people."

Jacqui laughs. "Not anymore, you're not."

Lori makes a face. "You don't gotta tell me twice."

"What about you, Harley?" Asks Amy. "Your Dad ever take you fishing?"

There it is again; my stomach climbing up the back of my throat like a balloon. "Uh," I mumble. "Yeah. A lot."

Carol asks me, "You like it? Being on the water?"

"It's okay if you don't." Amy scrunches up her nose, smiling. "I was never that into it. Motion sickness 'n all."

I'm about to say no, I didn't like it, but something stops me. It's true, I never liked stabbing the alive worms on the hook, or gettin' sunscreen smeared all over my face, or carrying all them heavy buckets full of crayfish and bluegills back to the truck, but that doesn't matter. I was with my Dad. And I liked that. So, "I liked it," I say. "We went every weekend, in Dad's boat. It was sorta old, but he liked it a whole lot. He let me name it."

Lori smiles. Lori loves when people tell nice stories. "What'd you choose?"

"I named it after our old dog." I tell her. Hey, I'm smiling. "His name was Tank. So, Dad's boat was, 'The Tank'."

Lori pouts. She loves animals, too. "Aw. That's nice. We had a dog."

"What was his name?"

"Fido," She scoffs. "You can thank Carl for that one."

"I can't imagine Daryl lettin' anybody tell him what to do," Amy chuckles. "He's always so grouchy."

Dale must be eavesdropping, because he leans over his fold-out chair and calls down to us, "Now, now, remember that time with the deer?"

The story he told me this morning, to make me feel better.

All at once, the women start giggling together, and nodding, yes, they do remember that time with the deer. I catch it, like a stomach bug, and I start giggling, too, because I guess it is kinda funny. My Dad, with his squinty eyes and angry mouth and big, scarred fists, doin' whatever I tell him to. I never saw it like that, because it's always the other way 'round. For the first time today, I'm thinking of my Dad, and it doesn't hurt, not one bit.

"Like a gaggle of geese over there," Shane shakes his head from the fire. He's laughin', too. Bunch of eavesdroppers, these people. "Get back to work!"

"Yes, sir!" Andrea salutes, rolling her eyes.

We can't stop giggling.

The fish fry is, basically, a family barbeque.

My dinner is hot, and greasy, and it's even got yellow rice and onions in it, like takeaway. Takeaway is always good. Around the fire, all I see are happy faces and all I hear are jokes, and gasps, and laughter. They're talking about college, and how Lori used to wear the ugliest skirts, and how, yes, Shane can confirm, he was there to see it and, no, it wasn't pretty. When I look through the trees, I imagine me and my Daddy's sad little camp on the other side, abandoned. I was right. It is better over here. I hope he would think so, too.

"W— Hey! They were in style, back then!" Lori holds her fork up, like a pointing finger. "Everyone was wearin' them!"

"Oh, I remember." Shane shakes his head. "N— No, listen, I remember, alright! So short it was like a damn belt!"

Amy slides off her tennis shoe and launches it at Shane's legs. "You can't argue with fashion, Shane!"

He laughs. "Oh, that's what that was? Fashion?"

"Hey, I got some pretty nasty pictures of you with that damn perm on your head, so you might wanna quit while you're ahead." Lori sasses.

We all picture Shane with a mop of curly poodle hair, prolly posing like He-Man, and we all roar with laughter again.

Up until the very last grain of rice gets eaten, we talk about everything and anything, because stories are all we got to give each other anymore, Dale says. Dale talks about how he planned to take a trip around the state with his wife, in their RV, but she passed away before it could happen. So, when the world ended, he was in a gas station, buying ice creams and lookin' at maps, 'cause he was doin' the trip on his own. He says he's glad that all the small decisions he's made in life has led him to this quarry, with these people. Everybody calls him a sap, but he gets a side-hug from Jacqui. He smiles over the fire at me. Andrea and Amy talk more about their Dad.

I talk about the tyre swing I used to have, in my yard. Shange suggests building one here, too.

Jim talks a little about his old job as a mechanic. Morales talks about how much he misses his recliner.

"Aw, man, I'm telling you," He groans, like he's in a deep, deep pain. "It was remote-controlled, and it had blue-tooth, and everything."

Shane slaps him on the back. "Too bad the world ended; Had to get off your fat ass!"

More and more warm, silly laughter.

It's around us kid's bed-time when Dale checks his watch.

The other kids all complain straight away, but we get dragged away, anyway. I can hear my Daddy's voice in my head, telling me sometimes it don't matter what little girls want. Lori and Carol take us around the back of Shane's Jeep, where all the bathroom stuff gets kept, like the gallon jugs of water, the towels, and stuff Glenn brings back from runs. We brush our teeth, and splash our hair with water, and use baby wipes on our armpits.

I can see the tippy-tops of the city's tallest buildings from here, like skinny black popsicle sticks in the smog. I keep lookin' back, for my Dad.

I'm lookin' right now. Everyone else is trying to find Sophia's hairbrush in one of the bags, but I'm not helping. I can't look away.

There's a figure, stumbling up the road.

At first, I think it's my Dad, somehow. When you're expecting somethin' so much and for so long, and with all your heart, it's the first thing you think of. Even if it makes no sense. If they were really back, they'd all be together; Glenn, T-Dog, Daddy, and Rick, because my Daddy would make them all stick together, 'cause he's smart like that. But the shadow's alone. And he's got a limp. Just a little one. He hop-shuffle-hop-shuffles closer to us. No, no it's not my Dad. There's no crossbow; no big boots, no backpack. The shoulders aren't wide enough. Actually, the shoulders aren't wide at all. They're droopy. Too droopy, like they're... like they're melting off the bone, like hot cheese melts off pizza.

I hear a gurgle through the night. That's when it all makes sense.

"Walkers!"

And one second after that, the fish feast goes to Hell.

Someone snatches my wrist. We go rushing back into camp, where there's people, and lights, and noise. And shouting. Lots and lots of shouting; so much shouting it's like being stuck inside a beehive. I see flashes of legs and t-shirts and hands pulling me around, toward the bonfire. The bonfire must be brighter than a lighthouse out here, in the dark. Suddenly, I'm noticing everything wrong with the fish fry. The smells, the noise. I'm remembering my Daddy's rules, 'bout how loud is dangerous and dangerous is stupid and oh God — I can hear Amy shrieking like a piglet, near the RV. I hear shotguns pumping and bullets exploding and sloppy plops of skin falling of the dead people afterwards. I'm screaming.

The bag — The emergency bag, the one in our tent. I should grab it, right? That's what I'm supposed to do, right? So we can live?

"Lori!" Shane's hollering. "Carl! Harley! Where are you?"

"We're over here!" Lori cries.

"Start moving!"

Everywhere, everywhere, legs, legs, legs, all rotten and slimy and dead. Then, a gap, filled with darkness. The tent is out there. The bag.

I can make it. I know I can.

"Harley!"

That's Lori, screaming like she's never screamed before, because I just broke away from her, and I can feel something hot sliding down my arm, and it must be blood, 'cause she must have ripped my arm open with her short razor nails. I run straight for the gap in the wall of dead people, and I throw myself past them, like they're bowling pins and I'm the ball, and then I'm on the other side, in the dark, dark woods, running, running, running, all by myself. I remember the path to our camp. Big rock, little tree, old fence. It's all there, it's just covered in night.

I hear Shane yelling for me, and Morales, too, and more screaming, more dying.

A dead man slams into me. We go tumbling into the branches and the leaves, and then down a little hill, and then into a ditch. I smack his growling face away from mine, and I kick his stomach, and I wriggle away. The dirt is slipping away from underneath me, like dust, but the roots are easy to climb so I climb those, and the dead man follows me out. He's swiping at my ankles, scampering for my legs, slobbering on his lips.

His nails catch my arm.

I see the tent.

I'm running again, but only for a second. It's my pants. They're stuck. The dead man's grabbing onto them. I kick his fingers off.

"Get away," I grunt.

The pebbly ground barks under my shoes when I tear off again, and it only takes a couple heartbeats for me to reach my Dad's camping chair, and then the black fire pit, and then the truck, and then the tent. I rip open the zipper and fall inside. The bag, the bag, the bag. I scramble for my Dad's sleeping cot, and drop to my knees, and pat around all the spare shirts and pants and socks and blankets he's got stuffed under here, praying, please God, it's gotta be here, like he says it is. My fingers hit something soft, then something hard. A buckle. I grab. I pull.

It's the bag. It's the bag, with the compass and the rope and the matches. I did it.

A branch cracks. I look over my shoul—

The dead man crashes on top of me, all two hundred pounds, through the tent lining. He squirms against me like a finger in a glove.

I scuttle backward as fast I can, under the cot. The dead man flops and turns and twists until he finds the tent opening, and he slithers inside, 'cause he's a hungry animal and I'm his food. An electric lamp clicks on underneath my foot. The dead man's shadow gets projected onto all four of the tent walls; big, like the bogeyman. I hug the bag like a teddy bear and then that's it, and there's nowhere else to go. His fingers reach for me, and they look like big, black, dead spiders, all curled up. I see his face, now. It's shredded. It's beaten.

It's Sophia's Dad.

Something clamps around my shoe, and it's his teeth. A whole row of thick, white teeth. A bite.

I squeeze my eyes closed and hope my shoe's thick enough to keep me safe. There's nothin' else I can do.

Then, a great, big bang.

Then, hot, slippery puddles of blood, and little bits of neck and skin and jaw, splattered across my face. He slumps. Is it over? It's over? His head's cracked open like an egg, and his brains are leaking out like yolk. There's a bullet hole between my two feet. That means — That means someone shot his shadow, through the tent. Only someone with a very good shot could have made that, without killing me at the same time. I claw my way out from under all the blankets, and the body, and the cot. I can hear voices shouting, Oh Fuck, Oh God, and, Where are you, baby, and, If you hit my daughter, I will fucking end you.

The electric lamp flutters off.

The tent is ripped open. 

I look up. I'm blinded by big, white circles of flashlight light. Someone gasps.

My chin crumples 'cause I'm crying, like a little baby.

Rick's standin' there, Sherriff's hat on, revolver smoking. Shane's there, too, wild-eyed, and very, very sweaty, with a shotgun. There's Glenn, panting. They look at the blood on the blankets, and the blood on my face, and their dead friend on the floor, with half a head. Then, they see the scratches on my arm, and for some reason, some of them look like they're about to throw up all over themselves. But the person in front, the person that got here first, that's my Dad. It's my Dad, and he's alive. He doesn't even stop to look, like the others. He doesn't care.

"Harley," He chokes, like he's been punched, and he drops to his knees in front of me. He presses me into his chest. He's alive. He's alive. 

I'm alive.

"Daddy," I cough-sob, 'cause I can't help it.

I only ever call him Daddy instead of Dad in my head, or when I'm really, really upset.

He must notice, 'cause the hug gets tighter; safer. "Baby, I'm here. You're alright. You're alright. S'alright, now."

I bury my face in his sweaty, stinky, dirt-smeared neck, and I never wanna come back out. I sob and I sob and I sob, and I sob some more. He pets my hair and shushes me, like how he does when I get nightmares. We rock back and forth. I sob, sob, sob.

Someone says my Dad's name real weird, like they're boutta keel over, and only then I remember me and my Dad aren't the only two people in the world. Footsteps crinkle on the tent canvas. Someone kneels next to me. It's Rick. He takes off his hat and sucks in a breath, glances at the others — He steels himself — and then he gently grabs my green sleeve, and I wriggle into my Dad, who's lettin' him do this, and he slides it up my arm. Fresh claw marks, and blood, pouring down my skin. We stare at my arm for a long time. They glance at Sophia's Dad. Why are we staring at my arm?

I look at Rick. I look at Glenn; at Shane. I look at my Dad. He's gone white as a ghost.

"Harley, what is that?" He whispers to me.

I look back at my arm. It's just some stupid scratches. I wipe 'em away, 'cause I want 'em gone. "It's nothin'."

"Harley," He says again, this time with a very clear, very angry, no-nonsense voice. "You look me in the eye. What is that?"

Something is very, very wrong.

Glenn has to walk away.

"Wh—?" I shake my head, sniffing. Why do I feel like I'm in trouble? I didn't do nothin' wrong. "It's nothin'. Lori, she scratched me."

"It was Lori?" Rick raises his eyebrows, like it's very, very important that I'm not lying right now.

I'm not lying. Rick, he's a liar, but not me.

"Uh-huh." I nod hard, so they believe me. "It was Lori. H— He got me, too, I think, but it don't hurt. I promise. He ain't do it too hard."

I didn't say the right thing.

They're all looking at each other. They're speaking without talking, and I don't like it.

"Daddy, what's goin' on?" I'm mumbling now, 'cause I only want my Daddy to hear me, 'cause I'm scared. I'm really scared. I don't know what I did wrong, and I don't know what they're thinking about, but I'm sorry, and I'll never do it again. I was so busy worrying about the teeth in my shoe that I wasn't thinking about anything else. I think I should've been, though, and I'm sorry I wasn't. I'm sorry. All I know is that I'm sorry. I don't know why, but I'm sorry. Daddy picks me up, even though he's told me over and over I'm too old for that, now. He's shuddering.

"We'll check Lori's nails." Rick tells him, nice and steady. His police-man voice. "If there's blood under them—"

"This bastard's got blood unn'er his nails!" Dad gives Sophia's Dad a hard kick in the head. I shriek. "The stupid fuck! It don't fuckin' matter!"

"It does matter. It does." Rick keeps saying. "We can't make any conclusions. Not 'til then. We just can't."

"You wanna talk 'conclusions', officer? Let's talk 'conclusions'."

"Daryl, we'll figure this out."

"How the Hell did y'all even let this fuckin' happen?" Dad yells. "You're like a fuckin' bad luck charm, you people!"

"This is nobody's fault." Rick says, but he sounds like he knows he's lying.

I can hear people panicking far away, back at camp, in whispers. Glenn ran back there a few minutes ago.

"First my brother, now my—?" Dad cuts himself off. He's about to cry.

Nobody's got anything to say.

We listen to the sounds of leaves rustling and crickets chirping and the distant yelling and the breeze and my Daddy's big strong heartbeat, which is goin' buh-bump, buh-bump, buh-bump under my ear, real, real fast.

Shane steps forward, but it's all over already.

This is what it was like the night Tank got put down. I realise that I'm like Tank. Tank was dying. I'm a dying dog. The scratches on my arm, I get it now. They're from the dead man and they're from Lori at the exact same time, and until we know which it is, that means I'm dying. He scratched me — I remember, now. He got me. He did. I don't wanna be dying. I was alive just a second ago. I swear I was.

Unlike yesterday, Daddy doesn't bat Rick off when puts a hand on his shoulder. Something changed in the city today. I think we're all one team, now, even if my Daddy likes to bite and snap and blame. There's no more line between them and us. There's not two camps, anymore. Only one.

The stars are bright, tonight. I watch them twinkle over my Dad's head.

"If this happens," Daddy's voice cracks. "Every single one of you are gonna be real, real sorry."

Author's Note. Yep, you guessed it, Jim survives! And Harley is the one that gets attacked.

No more ominous hole-digging for you, Jim. Sorry.

Phew. This took a long time to write. I had to re-work almost every scene about four times, because some things just weren't working, and I had to delete some others. It all worked out in the end, though. Here we are with chapter two.

Please let me know what you think! :)

[forests-creatures]

Hiya! Can you do something for tree kangaroo therians? :3

Thank youu

- Bandit 🌿

Here are some things tree kangaroo therians can do!

Practice with climbing up in trees. Make sure to be careful!

Practice with leaping from one spot to another. Also make sure to be very careful with this!!

Have food similar to what a tree kangaroo will eat! This can include leaves such as spinach or lettuce, edible flowers, fruits, and even more protein foods like eggs or chicken if you're a captive tree kangaroo!

If you want to, carry a plush/joey in a pouch! There's a few ways you can make a pouch

Go to the forest to do some climbing, or just to be in a familiar biome

When feeling hot, groom yourself to cool off

[ratnurse]

The koala's name was Emily! And the goodfellow's tree kangaroo, Mani, has a joey in her pouch! She was trying to coax it to come out and be more independent by tugging on its tail 😂

[whiskeysmulti]

Paw (A KHR Fanfic)

Fandom: KHR Word Count: 1,006 Prompt: Paw Ship: None Characters: Uri and Gokudera Hayato Event Host: @flufftober

When Gokudera had been told he had one of the most powerful Vongola box weapons around he didn't believe it. However as he'd gone along and worked on unlocking every box in the Sistema he started to understand, he started to realize it really was a powerful weapon. Except one box he didn't think had any value at all.

Who the hell puts a cat in with a bunch of weapons? What good is a simple stupid cat anyway? Was it supposed to be just a pet? Was it put in there for a reason? Was it put in the box to serve a purpose at all? "Useless stupid cat!" He'd yell whenever Uri seemed to get in the way. But later he'd come to regret this.

Gokudera soon found out Uri was one of the most valuable assets he owned. His future self had been smart to help in designing the Sistema CAI and incorporate Uri's box into it. Each box opened contained a powerful weapon up to the last box of that flame, which unlocked a ring of one of the other five flames he'd unlocked and harmonized with, Storm, Sun, Rain, Lightning, and Cloud. The Storm boxes were his primary flame and possibly his most powerful weapons, including the Flame Arrow itself and that once believed useless kitten that he didn't understand why it was put in a box to begin with.

She'd hiss, growl, swat, bite and claw him so much Gokudera believed she hated him. Those tiny little paws of hers held razor sharp claws on the ends and Gokudera felt her wrath first hand and almost daily. When most people think of cats they think of adorable little balls of fluff with Christmas tree shaped little tails, and a cute high pitched meowing. That wasn't what came out of the box.

What came out of the box was a hissing, growling, ferocious little monster with flames on its ears and tail and many teeth that highly enjoyed biting him daily. Uri was and always would be feisty just like her guardian and with time Gokudera learned that it didn't matter if she was in kitten form or full blown leopard, he was no match for this little furball's wrath.

Cat paws were often seen as cute and soft, but everyone forgot about the razor sharp claws attached to them. It was even worse when Uri had grown with the activation of the Sun flame and her paw was big enough to deliver full blown smacks to his face and her claws would often tear him up.

However, as much as Gokudera argued with the cat and as many times he felt a claw to his face, he had to admit he loved Uri dearly and would be lost without her. He'd even gone off one night searching for her and wouldn't go to sleep until he did find the precious little box weapon. Thankfully she'd wandered off into Hibari's room and he was someone Gokudera knew would never harm an animal, in spite of his reputation for being bloodthirsty, he was gentle and kind to smaller, weaker creatures, the box weapons included.

It wasn't until he'd been face to face with the possibility of dying in battle in the future that he realized just how and why Uri was considered the most powerful weapon of the entire Sistema C.A.I. It was thanks to the Sun flame's activation factor provided by Garyuu when she was thrown to the Sun Kangaroo and landed in or near the knocked out kangaroo's pouch. Just like a mother Kangaroo protecting and healing her little joey, Garyuu protected and healed Uri as well and thanks to the added Sun flame's activation factor Uri showed off her true form and skills then. She wasn't just a fuzzy, cute little leopard cub, she was a ferocious, full grown adult leopard, Pantera Tempesta.

From the fluff on her tail to the size of her paws and the flames on her ears, Uri had grown up. She'd changed a great deal with the Sun's activation and Gokudera had to admit even he was impressed. He'd been wrong before, she wasn't just a useless kitten.

Gokudera had to admit he'd be lost without the cat, even if he thought she was useless and stupid before. He regretted ever thinking that about her when he initially opened her box. He understood why she was so harsh with him as well. Uri came from a time where he was older and more mature and that was the Gokudera she was used to, his calmer, more collected and grounded adult self that was already the Tenth Right Hand.

Ironic that Gokudera was now walking around with a plate of grilled fish and calling for the little kitten he'd once called useless. If he really thought she was useless he wouldn't be trying to chase her down so desperately and bribe her to come home like this, would he? Uri might have been small with tiny little cute paws, but with time and enough of the Sun flame's activation factor, she would grow into the greatest weapon of the Sistema CAI, the Pantera Tempesta, or the Storm Leopard.

From tiny paws to fangs and claws, Uri was and always would be one of the most precious weapons Gokudera ever had, as in his own eyes, she was and always would be much more than a mere weapon. What was once thought to be a useless kitten was a precious sidekick now and practically a house pet in the off time from combat. He never thought he'd see the day that he'd come home and she'd wrap her paws around his neck and cling to him like a baby, purring in his arms. It hasn't happened yet, but Gokudera could dream anyway.

Uri was and always would be a precious element of the Sistema CAI and even more, on top of that, she would always be a precious pet to Gokudera, paws, claws, jaws and all.