Tumgik
#black elk wilderness
travelella · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media
Black Elk Wilderness, Keystone, Pennington County, South Dakota, USA
Alex Moliski
1 note · View note
txttletale · 1 year
Note
this isnt a defence of dnd but I was hoping to ask for clarification on a couple points you made that I dont fully understand and I'm clearly missing something. Namely that you mentioned racial connotations to the barbarian class and colonial connotations to the ranger class. Like I understand the term barbarian has imperial and xenophobic overtones to it but I can't tell where there are specific native stereotypes in it as it appears in dnd
yeah, i mean, a lot of the forms of racism that are at play here are deeply embedded into cultural norms and popular tropes, so if they're not stereotypes that affect you it can be easy to miss them. i'll be going solely by the DNDBeyond official class description: i've highlighted relevant sections
Tumblr media
so, first of all, notice the very telling use of the word 'savage'. this is an extremely racialised term that is used against indigenous people to this day. yes, it's used here as an adjective rather than a noun, but in context it's telling, especially alongside 'tribe'--another very racialised word: europeans have 'ethnic groups' or 'nations', indigenous peoples have 'tribes'. 'savage tribe' is how indigenous people have been described for a long time, especially during the height of colonialism. some easy examples i found with a minute's googling:
Tumblr media Tumblr media
note also the 'elk herd'. this class description is going to keep hammering home that barbarians are from nomadic backgrounds. a very common defense of the barbarian class is that it's based on norse berserkers--which is true to an extent, especially wrt 'rage', their headline class ability--but while the norse conducted raids and invasions, they lived in settlements. vast swathes of the conceptual makeup of the fantasy barbarian is derived from the colonialist imaginary of the nomadic, 'warlike', 'savage'.
Tumblr media
moving on, we're hit with a barrage of direct comparisons to animals. now, i'm obviously not saying that it's racist to ever compare a character to an animal--but the barbarian class very explicitly represents a group of people with a certain lifestyle, and in the real world, comparing groups of people to animals has been a longstanding method of dehumanization that's been applied especially brutally to indigenous and Black victims of colonialism. and while 'animal spirits' is a fun vulfpeck song, here it's clearly invoked as a caricature of 'primitive' spirituality. why are the spirits 'fierce?' why must they be 'animal spirits?' why do other classes in DND invoke gods and demons, but the barbarian invokes 'spirits?'.
Tumblr media
now it gets even more blatant. the barbarian is 'primal' -- they have an 'animal nature' -- they're explicitly contrasted to 'civilization' and associated with 'nature' -- this is a textbook example the 'noble savage' stereotype and it's as old as colonialism. and of course, the barbarian comes from 'tundra, jungle, or grasslands'.
Tumblr media
so, here we have a very explicit confirmation of what i was talking here earlier re: barbarians very clearly intended to be nomadic peoples. they live in the 'wild places of the world' -- another colonialist trope rears its head here, the idea of an 'untamed wilderness' that can only be mastered by colonial domination, where the people are also 'wild'.
Tumblr media
a 'frontier', huh? the idea of the 'rough frontier' is pure unadulterated colonial fantasy, straight outta manifest destiny. the 'frontier' is the area along which settler-colonialism takes place, where the civilized 'us' meets the savage 'them' in the context of the colonial national myth. and of course, the suggestion that your barbarian character might be a 'prisoner of war, brought in chains to ''civilized'' lands' is pretty clearly founded in the very racialised institution of slavery! (interesting to deploy the scare quotes around 'civilized' now when you were just drawing a fully unironic primal/civilized distiction a paragraph ago, wizards of the coast)
Tumblr media
these same ideas about the ‘frontier’, about ‘wild lands’ and ‘the edges of civilization’ (and ��civilization’ as a geographic notion with ‘borderlands’ that need to be ‘protected’) can incidentally also be seen here in the ranger’s flavour text. again, the idea that ‘civilization’ has a defined endpoint, beyond which there’s only ‘wilderness’ and ‘barbarians’ and ‘savage tribes’ has its origins in the roman empire, grandfather of modern imperialism, and the idea’s hold on the contemporary fantasy genre consciousness has its roots in manifest destiny and the american western frontier, where it serves the ideological purpose of obscuring the bloody and brutal wars of conquest that were waged nonstop against the many people who lived on the ‘uncivilized’ side of that imaginary dividing line in order to push the ‘frontier’ forward.
Tumblr media
now, this part isn't on dnd beyond so i’m using a shitty little rulebook scan i found online bc i cba to properly pirate 5e again for this post, but by far the most played barbarian subclass is the path of the totem warrior. with the terms ‘spirit animal’ and ‘totem’, dnd 5e very specifically appropriates the real-world religous beliefs of native peoples. the term’s been beaten into the fucking ground over the last few years but this is some of the most cut-and-dry cultural appropriation i can imagine. and what does the path of the totem do? it gives the barbarian the abilities of animals, of course. Wolf Totems and Bear Totems and Eagle Totems, oh my! right back to the noble savage, the ‘wild man’, the dehumanizing animal comparisons we were talking about earlier.
now some of this, in a different context, could be innocuous and inoffensive. it’s not in a different context, though, it’s in this context--and in this context, it’s pretty clear that the ‘barbarian’ class has both feet planted firmly in the colonialist anti-indigenous imaginary. if you want a little more reading on this, this is a great article on the topic--but tldr: the colonial myth of the ‘wild frontier’ is load-bearing to the concepts of the barbarian and the ranger, and the barbarian in particular has anti-indigenous racist tropes marinating its flavor text.
233 notes · View notes
padawan-historian · 8 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Black photographer James Van Der Zee established himself in Harlem, New York where he opened a portrait studio, intermittently from 1916 until 1968. His decades of documentation reveal the intimate lives of Black New York during some of its most significant cultural moments, including the Harlem Renaissance. During the 1920s, Van Der Zee work drew Black couples and families to his studio, showing the diverse experiences of of the rising Black middle (or upper working) class. He photographed Harlem residents in their homes, churches, and social clubs, providing an intimate look into the lives and labor one of America's most well-know, historic Black communities.
He lived to be almost 100, a Black man born into freedom, grew up during the collapse of Reconstruction, and lived to see the Civil Rights Act passed . . .
It’s a hard job to get the camera to see it like you see it. Sometimes you have it just the way you want it, and then you look in the camera and you don’t have the balance. The main thing is to get the camera to see it the way you see it. ~ Van Der Zee
(1) Beau of the ball (1926)
(2) Alpha Phi Alpha Basketball Team (1926)
(3) Lady with Wide-Brimmed Straw Hat w/ Dog (1934)
(4) A woman poses in Van Der Zee's studio (1920)
(5) A smiling couple (1930)
(6) Members of the Benevolent and Protective Order of Elks parade in Harlem (1931)
(7) Another Parade in Harlem (1924-26)
(8) Three men sit together reading through letters (1934)
(9) Women and children pose on Lenox Avenue (1909)
(10) The Black Jewish community of Harlem (1929)
(11) Kate and Rachel Van Der Zee explore the wilderness of Lennox, Massachusetts (1907)
(12) A Native American (possibly afroindigenous) Couple (1907)
(13) Nude with Butterfly (1936)
(14) A woman smiles her best friend (1940s)
(15) A violinist (1956)
(16) Jean-Michel Basquiat (1982)
Source: National Gallery of Art | Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts
68 notes · View notes
mymiraclebox · 1 year
Text
The Kwamis
Alpha Kwamis: Vitaa the Panda of Life Shii the Crow of Death Tikki the Ladybug of Creation Plagg the Black Cat of Destruction Graay the Wolf of Order Prrysm the Platypus of Chaos Stellar the Firefly of Space Koree the Raccoon of Void
Elemental Kwamis: Swaar the Dinosaur of Gravity Longg the Dragon of Storm Tonna the Feathered Serpent of Earth Zeffyr the Griffin of Air Duskk the Grim of Darkness Nokk the Kelpie of Water Emburr the Phoenix of Fire Matto the Pterosaur of Aether Kirrin the Qilin of Light Kiikaa the Thunderbird of Electricity Uunice the Unicorn of Magic Ziima the Yeti of Glaciation
Timekeeper Kwamis: Antiqq the Aurochs of Reversion Shaash the Bear of Preservation Sass the Cobra of Opportunity Zipp the Dragonfly of Progression Allta the Frog of Change Keena the Lynx of Intuition Frostt the Penguin of Stagnation Fluff the Rabbit of Evolution Apple the Red Panda of Lineage Passtel the Snail of Patience Faae the Spider of Destiny Mataara the Tuatara of History
Delta Kwamis: Harmonee the Ant of Cooperation Sannar the Axolotl of Restoration Fangg the Bat of Fatigue Chaapa the Beaver of Innovation Pollen the Bee of Subjection Maggi the Binturong of Magnetism Yanna the Bison of Victory Blancca the Blackbuck of Inversion Nooroo the Butterfly of Generosity Duune the Camel of Perspective Milli the Chameleon of Emotion Purr the Cheetah of Agility Reef the Coral of Sensitivity Dess the Cougar of Apathy Remmi the Coyote of Despair Snapp the Crab of Adaptation Llucie the Crocodile of Clarity Fawnna the Deer of Wilderness Barkk the Dog of Detection Clikk the Dolphin of Sound Olivv the Dove of Peace Liiri the Eagle of Freedom Tuskk the Elephant of Memories Florra the Elk of Growth Sorren the Falcon of Observation Flowwe the Flamingo of Rhythm Trixx the Fox of Deception Elle the Gecko of Equality Parra the Giraffe of Confusion Ziggy the Goat of Imagination Karrma the Goose of Justice Verr the Gorilla of Sacrifice  Spikke the Hedgehog of Precision Taamus the Hippopotamus of Density Kaalki the Horse of Migration Ravenna the Hyena of Scarcity Gloss the Ibex of Friction Niisha the Jackal of Connections Belaa the Jaguar of Imperception Jellos the Jellyfish of Hatred Kicc the Kangaroo of Avarice Vexx the Komodo Dragon of Corrosion Valoree the Lion of Courage Donna the Llama of Attention Vollee the Locust of Invasion Xuppu the Monkey of Derision Allces the Moose of Evocation Duux the Moth of Hope Baash the Mouflon of Strength Mullo the Mouse of Abundance Currio the Narwhal of Wonder Attlantis the Octopus of Choice Jiicho the Okapi of Perspective Fleet the Ostrich of Guidance Ziibi the Otter of Transformation Tyyto the Owl of Secrets Stompp the Ox of Determination Lynn the Pangolin of Boundary Ecco the Parrot of Language Duusu the Peacock of Psyche Daizzi the Pig of Love Glaace the Polar Bear of Endurance Anjjel the Quail of Mercy Habuu the Rattlesnake of Beauty Ommen the Raven of Probability Mannta the Ray of Immersion Kaanda the Rhinoceros of Augmentation Orikko the Rooster of Vitality Finn the Salmon of Navigation Aynna the Scarab of Reflection Verriti the Scorpion of Truth Daante the Seahorse of Intimidation Misst the Seal of Elusion Flairr the Secretarybird of Passion Poppy the Shark of Joy Yuume the Sheep of Dreams Frijj the Snow Leopard of Silence Tinni the Squirrel of Diminution Twwist the Stoat of Elasticity Prrince the Swan of Loyalty Acce the Thylacine of Isolation Roaar the Tiger of Force Scuut the Tortoise of Knowledge Wayzz the Turtle of Protection Teer the Vulture of Sorrow Sotaa the Wolverine of Conflict Drill the Woodpecker of Dimension Divvi the Zebra of Duality
78 notes · View notes
songoftrillium · 1 year
Text
NPC Spotlight: Julie "Bites-the-Bully" Lykos
Human-Born Philodox Black Fury Elder, 41, Zedakh, Elk Prairie Sentinels
CW: Blood. Julie appears in 1975 as a well-built woman in her early 40s, 5'10", 193lbs, with a split brow, wiry, curly hair, and expressive, sage-colored eyes. Her face is deeply pockmarked with old scars that extend to cover most of her upper torso around her shoulders and cheeks in particular, making her facial features particularly pronounced in their expressiveness and her utter inability to hide what she's feeling. Her eyes tend to disappear behind a big lopsided smile when you can trick her into grinning. She often is seen wearing levis, bowling shirt or tank top, and one of her dad's WWII flight jackets.
She is most often seen in public working at Aloha Lanes at nights on the weekends, where she can make space for marginalized groups of weird kids like herself to socialize in safety on weekend nights while keeping up an appearance of being a part of the rural community of Trillium. Among garou she makes space for her own packmates and advocates strongly on behalf to ensure their voices are heard, whether from the traditional garou at the sept of the swift waters, to the traditional garou at sept of the trillium glade. She lives in a mobile home, in Steelhead springs with Dr. Esme "Leaping-Ghost" Marshall, Human-Born Theurge Child of Gaia Athro.
From a very young age, Julie was on the road traveling with her military family, but when the second world war broke out, she moved to Seattle to live with her aunt. Julie was always what her dad liked to call a "bent nail", a comment that had him fretting for her well-being. This reality followed Julie through her younger years. Generally speaking, the bent-nail got pounded. Most places Julie went, she never had much of a chance to get an impression long enough to get attached to anywhere, and nowhere did she ever truly belong. By the time she was in public school in seattle where all the kids already knew each other, Julie seldom went a week without coming home to her aunt's arms in tears. Unable to find other recourses, she spent a good portion of her teen years working malt shops, diners, whatever service industry job you could imagine, that's what Julie did. She was determined to go to college, get her degree, and move far away. She always dreamed of seeing alaska's wilderness like she read in her paperback novels, and felt like Seattle was always just beyond the reach of the world's wildest places.
When Julie hit puberty, the war ended, but not before it claimed both of her parents. In school, differences between her and the other girls only worsened. Her jawline hardened, and she started putting on muscle at the drop of a hat. She grew taller than most the girls at her school, and the worst of the bullying she faced was from other women. In short, Julie's self esteem was gone, and she was deeply depressed. When the bullying reached a head, Julie wound up having a breakdown at her school. Her aunt, ever-attentive, pulled her out of school and let her finish her education through homeschooling. In reality, she just let her ward have space and autonomy. Julie found an escape in reading. She especially loved Ursula K. Le Guin, and Leigh Brackett . By all measures, Julie should be the one with the strength to defend against everyone at the school, and none of the desire to do so.
But also, Julie had a plan. All those years she worked sweating in the service industry gave her what one would've needed back then to completely pay for her college, and rent a little studio apartment to herself. And Julie believed that at last she could put her childhood behind herself. Things went well for the first year, new class settling into their year at the school, she felt like she was finally able to let go of some of that bottled up anger, and then, on a hot, dry summer evening, she had her first change in the middle of the food hall at Evergreen college. And what it was wasn't some kind of new bully against her, no, it was seeing someone dump their drink on the head of another student, and before she knew it she was in the woods, panicked and her front covered in blood. Her aunt and a few members of the faculty were there, all kinfolk.
She is best known among the garou for fighting for The Fanum during the War of Chicago. In the aftermath of that conflict, Julie befriended Colleen "Shamisa" Fetner. Working with the Sept, the war started bloody, but ended with an uneasy peace between The Fanum and Sept of the Wind Catchers. Each working in tandem through Julie's efforts to unify them had The Fanum assaulted the Camarilla and sabbat simultaneously.At the end of the war, many garou died, including Julie's own pack mates, but every last known vampire in the city of Chicago were completely obliterated.
When Shamisa answered a calling to mentor a late changed garou in Seattle, she and Julie traveled there together. Julie lives in a trailer at Steelhead Springs just outside of Trillium with Esme. Opossum, a patron spirit of adaptability, has formed a strong bond with this Black Fury, and has followed her from her first pack to the Sentinels, which she now leads. Her stubbornness for her pack to be heard by the Red Talon Sept is what eventually led to Sept of the Trillium Glade opening itself to the rest of the garou nation, and among her pack and other Black Furies, Julie is respected for both her discipline and emotional intelligence, despite being very plain-worded.
Time spent living with Esme has drawn the two of them closer, though Julie hasn't been able to find the right words to open her heart.
Reason Level 5, Gnosis 7
Description: Reason appears to be a partially broken labrys that's had one of it's blades shattered off. It's undergone a refurbishment with a new, short throwing axe handle, affixed on the other side with what looks like workshop hand tooling to clamp the ornate head to a utilitarian wood handle. On the handle is a sloppily woodburned word that can be barely read for the grime of use as 'Reason'. The spirit of a Freebooter named Iona "Kinslayer" is bound into this axe.
System: The signature Labrys of Bites-the-Bully, constructed during the War of Chicago in collaboration between the Sept of Jupiter and Sept of the Wind Catchers out of Julie's Mentor's Labrys when she and her Labrys were destroyed while defending the anchorhead. Attacks with Reason are difficulty 7 and to Strength + 3 aggravated damage. Activating this Fetish causes it to dramatically lighten in weight, enabling it to be thrown by anyone with a Strength of 4. Reason may be caught on it's return arc with a successful Dexterity + Athletics difficulty 7.
"I'm sure they'll listen to Reason"
15 notes · View notes
thegoblinwitchqueen · 2 years
Text
Fox Gloves and Lupines
Charles Smith (rdr2) x Original Female Character
Rating: Explicit
A03
Chapter: One
Nature was, and would always be, Unforgiving and cruel. And she…
She was stupid.
Frozen shards of crystalline water droplets fell heavy from dark clouds. They blinded Kitt, blurring the vision of her sore and hazy eyes until the once familiar mountain trail was nothing but a screen of overwhelming whiteness against a backdrop of uneasiness. The unpredictable climate of the West Grizzlies did not discriminate, and it did not matter how often or for how long she had traversed the untouched wilderness of the Ambarino mountainside for the entirety of her twenty-six years, the sudden change in weather could kill even the most seasoned fur trappers without hesitation if caught off guard by raging ice and wind storms. And unfortunately, it was on a gloomy spring evening when Kitt Arquette unknowingly found herself in one such dilemma.
The heavy furs she had wrapped desperately around her shivering body hardly kept the biting chill from penetrating clear to her bones with frigid gusts of wind that cut profoundly into the soft flesh of her cheeks like sharpened razors. The pungent odor of iron and decay filled Kitt’s nostrils in a way that reminded her that, miraculously, the most prominent feature of her fox-like face had remained attached to her despite her lack of feeling. Kitt touched her numb face and adjusted her knitted, thick scarf back over her cracked mouth and nose. She tried to ignore the uncomfortable steam from her trembling breath, which had soaked straight through the fleece and inadvertently caused her lips to rub themselves raw against the coarse material and freeze instantaneously. She shrank instinctively and tugged a silver fox pelt closer to her chest. Sporting the uncleaned and bloody hides of foxes, elk, and mountain sheep was not ideal; however, neither was a demise caused by the suffocating hands of an unexpected blizzard.
Her once healthy limbs were now as useless as the fresh legs of a newborn foal, gangly and awkward in ways she had never experienced before and painfully burdened by a thick and heavy layer of new snow. Kitt’s elbows creaked and groaned angrily like branches of an old oak tree while blindly guiding her old chestnut-colored gelding down a short and steep slope. Carefully, she continued her passage towards a place she had hoped would be sheltered. The old horse voiced his unwillingness and apprehension by tossing his broad head, but he continued through the bitter cold with nothing but trust in his rider to guide him to safety. Kitt worked hard to develop their trust over the last twenty years with the gelding after having acquired him as a gift from her maternal grandfather.
“I'm so sorry, boy.” Kitt cooed while she wiped away the dense ice clumped against his unruly black mane. Thick Mists of hot breath escaped his large nostrils as he groaned a guttural response. “I promise it won't be much longer.”
Kitt hated lying but hated having to admit when her pride had gotten the best of her more. Typically, her glaring ego would result in a few extra drinks at the Van Horn saloon or the occasional petty argument with her employer, Mister Gus MacMillan, over the quality of a raccoon pelt she had ruined with buckshot. But, Nothing she had ever done put her life at risk like it was at that moment.
Earlier, the sky surrounding the purple and blue snow capped peaks was mostly clear with bluebirds and sparrows dancing across the horizon. But, a deep rumbling of winter thunder and darkened clouds laden with snow threatened the young trapper in the distance. Kitt, having known Ambarino like the back of her hand, understood the storm was only a few hours away, and moving quickly. However, she blatantly dismissed the warnings of mother nature and pushed herself further into the mountainside after she spied the most peculiar-looking moose. He was a magnificent creature, and Rather than the ordinary dark brown coat expected to be donned by a full-grown bull, this one was entirely white. Kitt could not defy the mouth-watering temptation to own the hefty sum of cash his skin would most definitely merit and tracked the beast until the blanket of fresh snow reached the height of her waist. Still, had her father looked after her as he had done for the entirety of her life, he would have deterred his only daughter from getting caught in the storm of the century.
Marcel Arquette was an extraordinary fur trapper as bright as he was talented with a bolt-action rifle. Instinctively, the man would have understood when to admit defeat, turn back, and let the frost-colored moose escape to his own devices. The Frenchman never hunted more than what was essential for the family to sell and survive, but Kitt struggled to restrain herself and desired a life of comfort she had never experienced before. She yearned to leave the lifestyle of a wayward wanderer who slept amongst the harsh elements for a life of feather beds and warm food, especially now that she was orphaned. It had only been six months since her father succumbed to fever and twenty-five years since her mother passed. Still, Kitt missed the many mindless conversations about medicinal herbs, animal facts, or her fathers life before she was born. His huge laugh reverberated throughout the Grizzlies, frightening most of the wild game they sought to uncover.
The life she had once cherished and thrived in with her Papa, now, left her weary. Hunger pains chewed at her stomach more than before, and the crisp mountain atmosphere no longer replenished her lungs with exhilaration and energy. Instead, Kitt was perpetually exhausted from constantly existing in a state of starvation, indifference, and lonesomeness. Hunting alone in dead silence without someone to converse with did not make her feel anything but nothingness.
However, Kitt couldn’t let her lingering melancholy seep through the borders she had thrust around her broken heart. She had the horse to worry for, and though he did not have a name, a valid name, the old gelding had stuck through the years by her side without complaint. Now, It was Kitt’s turn to lead them to safety or die trying.
The soft fingers of Death’s thin hands caressed Kitt’s eyes and ears with whispers of delicious promises of bottomless sleep to quell the burning sensation that ignited her frostbitten skin like a raging fire. As she trekked on, exhausted and sore, her brain fought through the overwhelming tiredness to remember the words her father had told her after discovering the body of Papa Aiden.
“When a man succumbs to the cold, his mind will hasten the process by persuading him that the skin that had once felt ice cold is now hotter than any hearth fire. It is bittersweet but poetic nonetheless.”
The body of her father's oldest friend and lover was blue and black like a raven's feathers and entirely nude. Before he died, Aiden had hurled his buffalo coat a few feet away, and his thick, woolen shirt was nowhere to be found. But his newly patched trousers still clung around his ankles where he had lost consciousness face first into the snow late that night. Kitt was only nine and could not fully comprehend why the once happy man she loved almost as much as her father had stripped himself entirely bare to run wildly into the woods and die alone after he had spent most of their ride uncharacteristically complaining of the cold which chatted his teeth and coated his bones in frost. Through tears and heartbreak, her father said the earth was too frozen and rocky to bury the handsome Irishman, and Kitt often wondered if his body on Mount Shann was the same as when they left her father's shack all those years ago—perfectly preserved by the permafrost.
Now, Kitt understood how her father's partner had felt before he succumbed to the elements, burning, and heavy with indescribable exhaustion. Slowly, the young woman struggled to fight back the fear that bubbled in her gut as the blizzard raged well into the twilight with no indication that it would stop. Would she, too, die alone, nude, and preserved under mountains of ice until some other poor soul happened upon her corpse?
Who could say?
After a while, the trees and rocks no longer held any significance as the encroaching darkness overwhelmed her fragmenting reality. The remnants left of her sanity began to twist and turn, intertwining the forest with the forgotten rememberings of her past, painting figments of her papa, Aiden, and her unknown mother against the stark canvas of glistening white snow. Kitt resisted, ignoring the calls of the dead, and prayed to whoever might be listening to strike her deaf. The screams of Aiden's last moments echoed and rode in tandem with the howling of the wind until they transitioned into the familiar sounds of a lonely elk calling against the mountainside.
Suddenly, Kitt felt her gut lurch deep into her chest. A presence sat behind her to wrap its bloody limbs tight around Kitt's waist, humming a familiar cradlesong she had thought lost to time. The entity's lips gently touched the crook of Kitt’s neck and its breath cut sharp through Kitt’s scarf. The ghost inhaled and whispered:
“Sleep now, my daughter.”
Suddenly, the world went dark.
….
An unknown amount of time passed, but the moon was still high in the sky, and tendrils of dull light lazily drifted through the uneven slats of the roof and illuminated the hay-covered flooring.
Kitt inhaled sharply and jerked awake, slinging her head from side to side while hunting for the apparition that had haunted her. However, the young woman found herself alone and inside what seemed to be a rundown and abandoned horse stable. The decent-sized shack was empty save for a few dust-covered tools, and a soot-covered hearth meant to burn hot coals for shoemaking.
Besides the gentle skittering of various rodents along the breaking shafts, Kitt determined that by the looks of the building, it had long since been left behind to waste away underneath the snow. Though she was considerably knowledgeable about the ruins scattered across the peaks, whether it be from the cold or hunger she felt throughout her hurting body, Kitt could not outwardly recall where she was.
The young woman emitted a pitiful whimper and relaxed her painfully stiff shoulders, creaking like the stable floor boards and dropping layers of snow from her limbs onto the ground. Kitt had fallen unconscious at some point in her journey and was astonished that she somehow remained in her saddle, straddling her horse's ribs and grasping his harnesses. But, by God's grace, the old gelding continued through the storm without her guidance until he found the abandoned stable. Now, he knickered and pawed, begging to be released from his burdens. Kitt slowly descended her saddle like a greenhorn rider, fumbling through the darkness until her boots stretched out to the safety of the solid ground.
Once on her feet, Kitt ran her gloved hand along the horse's thick neck until she reached his face and pressed her forehead against the old mount's snout. At that moment, she could have sworn he comprehended the gratitude she felt for his courage swelling from her soul. Once again, the nameless beast had saved her from perishing in the blizzard. And once again, she did not know how to repay him.
“You're some sort of guardian angel. Thank you.” Kitt mumbled. The horse pulled his head free from her grasp, and lazily drifted to munch on a heap of fodder.
Kitt smiled and determined that peeling off the horse's saddle and bridle would suffice until she could reward him with his favorite radishes and apples. A groan reverberated with satisfaction from his belly as the weight lifted from his back. He shivered off the tension that sat painfully between his muscles.
Kitt, dropping bloodstained pelts as she limped, hauled the saddle into one of the vacant stalls and arranged it amongst a pile of old hay. Luckily, it was too cold for venomous creatures like snakes or spiders to burrow themselves between the grass, nor would she have the foresight to worry about such things before Kitt hurled her body down next to her only real possession. Coated head to toe in sinew, blood, and animal skins, Kitt slid her thick frame underneath the firm leather of her embroidered saddle, mimicking how her horse had sported it for all the years they spent together. Finally, She drank in his residual body heat and allowed her own to rest. This time, on her terms.
No more whispers of the dead.
And no more pain.
For the first sunrise since the Van Der Linde gang arrived in the abandoned mine town of Colter, the frigid storm that had provided the wanted outlaws an ideal getaway finally broke long enough to allow Charles Smith to leave the cramped quarters he reluctantly shared with his brothers in arms. It was before sunrise, and the young man of Indigenous and Black blood watched the light peak from the eastern mountains from the doorway while Lenny, Javier, and Micah slept behind him. He stretched out the soreness that permeated deep into the threads of his muscular neck and back. The man of twenty-four years hadn’t slept, at least not adequately, and blamed his restlessness on the tiny, uncomfortable bed he compressed his massive body into. As well, the persistent gnawing he felt radiating from the slow healing injury on his right hand kept him awake long into the midnight hours. When asked about the new set of dark circles, which hung heavy from his dark-colored eyes, by a concerned Susan Grimshaw, Charles would only have to say that he could not rest due to Micah and his horrendous sleep apnea. All of which honestly caused the dark-skinned youth to scowl each night while he stared at the spaces between the ceiling boards, wrapped tightly in his black coat and tattered blankets. But while each justification was annoying and contributed to his sleepless nights, they were not the actual cause. No, he thanked the painful memories of his time before Dutch had adopted him into his band of wayward souls, for they decided to plague him for the first time in years.
Charles glanced down at the stained bandage wrapped around his dominant palm and flexed his fingers continuously until the searing pain reappeared underneath the oozing and scabbed flesh. There would be a decent scar once the burn healed and he withered at the thought. It would be another few days before he could hold a bow or shoot his sawed-off shotgun. While he waited, he would devour the endless hours meandering aimlessly around the outskirts of the camp, unable to pull his weight.
Typically the elders or ladies of the camp would look to him to help with tasks that required brute strength, but in Colter, the daily functions of the base were suspended. All except Arthur and John waited and warmed themselves by the fireplace glow while the formers explored the perimeter. John Marston had been gone for two days looking for any promising shelter, and Arthur left that morning to scavenge the charred remains of Sadie Adler's homestead for any untouched goods he could bring back to feed his family. Charles had asked his mentor if he could join him but was instructed to hang around camp to recover.
Another few days of feeling simply —-useless.
Charles huffed and descended the step of his cabin into the glistening snow. He couldn't help but marvel at how much ice had fallen during the night. It was enough to reach his knee and saturate the thick fabric of his trousers. He shrugged off the uncomfortable chill, coming to be acclimated to the feeling, and carried through towards the empty cooking station where Mister Pierson had already started up his daily task of feeding the household.
Ever the busy body, Charles reasoned he would converse with the retired navy man to see if he could get any information on Arthur’s latest expedition in O’Driscoll country. Earlier, Dutch and Hosea made it a point to exclude Charles from the gang's business because they knew that a wounded palm would not prevent the man from pursuing Arthur wherever the hardened outlaw went. So, Charles supposed Pierson would be the next best thing—even if he loathed useless chatter. And boy, did Pierson adore worthless talk.
There was never an instant where Charles Smith took it easy. Despite the reassurance he received from Arthur and Dutch after the unfortunate incident in Blackwater that caused his annoying injury, he worried that his involuntary idleness would ultimately be misunderstood as laziness. Still, the man really needn’t bother because Dutch seemed to have a soft spot for lazy men such as Uncle, who somehow managed to coast through the years with little to show for his duration with the gang. Unlike Uncle, Charles had demonstrated his usefulness in the last six months he ran with Dutch and Hosea by supporting all their morally questionable endeavors regardless of the risks associated with dancing around the local authorities. But, the years Charles spent roaming from band to band around the Western Frontier since he was old enough to carry a rifle conditioned him.
To be lazy meant to be worthless and, ultimately, banished.
The Van Der Linde gang was the closest thing to a family Charles had ever held, and he was not willing to give it up anytime soon. As he moved into the shed from the frigid wind, the rosy cheeks of Simon Pierson welcomed him. The fallen sailor wore a wide grin underneath his thick mustache, and Charles repaid the gesture with a slight nod of his head, evading the man’s loitering gaze.
“Well, I would say it was surprising to see you here this early, Mister Smith,” Pierson huffed.
The heavyset man’s strong arms raised a heavy, iron cauldron whose contents were a stew made of thin broth and an assortment of filler vegetables, suspicious meat, and no seasoning to mask the awful taste. But, no one in the gang complained as a full belly made of awful food was better than starvation. Pierson positioned the pot, hanging it over a little flame and stored the gruel with a wooden spoon. He tasted the meal, cursed under his breath, and rested against a wooden chair.
The fire that cooked the food struggled to survive under the steady gusts of bitter Ambarino wind that beat it into submission. The measly fire was started on a bed of old hay and twigs, and Charles made a mental reminder to collect more timber for the cook later. After a moment, he turned his dark eyes to the heavyset sailor's gaze. “But you’re always up before dawn. So you must forgive me for my lack of enthusiasm. I’ve stopped being surprised, and the cold makes me cranky.”
“Mmm,” Charles grunted, holding the palms of his hands near the fire to warm them. Already the tips of his thick fingers grew ashen and numb from his brisk walk between his station and Pierson’s makeshift kitchen. The biting chill caused Charles's thoughts to drift to Arthur Morgan. Concerned about his current state, Charles hoped the man was roaming through the cliffs alright. They weren't particularly intimate, and their relationship could be described as more than an acquaintance, yet not quite a friend. But, Arthur reminded him of the man his father used to be before firewater plagued his mind—solid and courageous… If not a tad but stupid.
Pierson held off and watched the man think, understanding that young Charles was a creature of few words and spoke only when he felt necessary. However, the cook saw by the troubled expression on Charles’s face that the lad was stir-crazy and needed something to entertain him lest he lose his sanity to boredom. After all, it wasn’t like Charles Smith to seek Pierson out of his own volition.
“So, Charles, you feel like doing something?” Pierson requested as he wiped the assortment of food, dirt, and sweat along the coarse fabric of his thick military jacket.
“…what do you have in mind?” Charles questioned, trying not to look too enthusiastic. Nevertheless, the break in Charles’s deep voice and the shit eating smile across Pierson's face said otherwise. Yes, he had to do something.
Anything.
“ I know it’s not much, but do you think you can gather the coals left in the stable? They seemed pretty spent when I last checked, but anything is better than this–shit.” Pierson moaned and watched the tiny flame threaten to die. “ I’d go, but someone has to be here to ensure breakfast cooks.”
“Sure thing.” Charles said.
“There is a rusty bucket you can use to put the bastards in. Just don’t cut yourself, Mister Smith. God forbid you’re out of commission for a moment more than necessary.” Pierson chuckled, pulling a cigarette from his jacket pocket before placing the tobacco between his thin lips. Charles nodded and briskly turned on his heel toward the abandoned stable without saying goodbye. Pierson huffed, smiled, and lit the cigarette as he watched the strange man leave.
As Charles approached the stable, a sudden thought crossed his mind. The double doors of the shack were a jar, unlike how he had left it the day prior. Under tightly furrowed brows, he stood still and carefully analyzed the building for any warning of foul play. Like most of his thoughts, they did not contain words and were more like an instinct he felt reverberating through his bones. The shiver that went down his spine was one he could not dismiss.
Something was not right, but he could not say why or how…or by who. At least not yet. Quietly, Charles approached the entrance, creeping inside as he palmed the hilt of the large hunting knife strapped to his holster. For a man his size, Charles prided himself on his uncanny mastery of remaining undetected, especially when he wanted to be.
As he entered, he glanced at each stall containing the gang's horses, including his trusted appaloosa mare, Taima. She greeted her rider with a happy wine and Charles loosened up. He sighed at his jumpiness and casually made his way towards the horses. He chuckled to himself. Had there been any real danger, Taima would have definitely alerted him, but right now, she seemed more than happy to see him. She pawed at her stable door, telling her rider about her discomfort behind closed doors. Like him, Taima needed open fields and freedom to roam. And like him, she too suffered in Colter.
Charles reached for her neck, and stroked her while he whispered sweet nothings to her. He loved his horse more than anything. While he pampered his poney, another cry echoed further down the stable hall, and Charles recognized it as Javier's mount, Boaz. The unruly paint was easily jealous and hated to be ignored.
“Calm yourself. Boaz. I'll come say hi in a minute.” Charles exclaimed, patting Taima roughly before an unfamiliar bray accompanied the paint. Charles stood still and saw an unfamiliar chestnut horse inhabiting the last stable. As he silently moved towards the strange horse, he abruptly observed that the once bare floor was now smeared with smudges of dried blood. Charles slowly crouched down and touched the rust-colored stain. The red fluid had dried already, and though they were faint, tracks of heavy-toed boots descended the hall towards the horse.
Charles scowled and wiped the residue from his fingertips on his trousers, and reached for his knife again. As he surpassed the gelding, Charles spied an unfamiliar saddle embroidered with jumping rabbits and wild flowers resting in the hay behind the old boy. The horse did not show fear or emotion and allowed the young man to touch his broad nose. Whoever had spent the night in the stable was gone and left their mount and belongings behind.
O’Driscolls maybe? Or, had John finally returned with a stolen horse?
The boot tracks were too small to be Marston’s, and the horse he rode earlier was nowhere to be seen. No, this was somebody he had never happened upon before. Charles glanced to his left and spied a pile of blood-stained, silver fur resting along the bottom seal of the stable door. He unsheathed his knife, bent down, and flicked the hide with the tip of his blade.
“A fox pelt?” Charles huffed, raising the uncleaned skin to his sight for a closer look.
Once again, that intuitive shudder ran along the length of his spine. And suddenly, the stable doors slammed shut.
5 notes · View notes
w0nderw0man-cinema · 1 year
Text
Books
Tumblr media
What I read in 2023
Tis The Season For Revenge by Morgan Elizabeth
Always Mine by Laura Pavlov
Her Way by Nicci Harris
His Pretty Little Burden by Nicci Harris
His Pretty Little Queen by Nicci Harris
The Piece That Fits by N.J. Gray
Heartless by Elsie Silver
Mile High by Liz Tomforde
Fresh Meet by Jasmin Miller
A Better Man by Carrie Elks
Suffer in Silence by Kelsey Clayton
Screams in Symphony by Kelsey Clayton
Our Thing by Nicci Harris
Cosa Nostra by Nicci Harris
Flawless by Elsie Silver
Consider Me by Becka Mack
The Right Move by Liz Tomforde
Play With Me by Becka Mack
A not so meet cute by Meghan Quinn
So not meant to be by Meghan Quinn
A long time coming by Meghan Quinn
A Photo Finish by Elsie Silver
Dirty Devil by Melissa Ivers
Keeping Denver by Sandy Alvarez and Crystal Daniels
Thorne Princess by L.J. Shen
Black Ties & White Lies by Kat Singleton
Rule Number Five by J. Wilder
Taste by Melanie Harlow
Tease by Melanie Harlow
Tempt by Melanie Harlow
Kiss and don’t tell by Meghan Quinn
Those Three Little Words by Meghan Quinn
Right Man, Right Tine by Meghan Quinn
Distance by Luna Mason
Glove Save by Teagan Hunter
Heat Haven by Sarah Blue
One Pucked Up Pack by Sarah Blue
That One Night by Emily Rath
Sleet Kitten by S.J. Tilly
Forbidden: Part One by Emilia Emerson
Pucking around by Emily Rath
Sinners anonymous by Somme Sketcher
Sinners consumed by Somme Sketcher
Sinners condemned by Somme Sketcher
Ever Mine by Laura Pavlov
Make You Mine by Laura Pavlov
Things We Never Got Over by Lucy Score
Unperfect by Susie Tate
Finn by BJ Alpha
Oscar by BJ Alpha
Things We Hide From The Light by Lucy Score
Coach by Devney Perry
Their Broken Legend by Nicci Harris
Gravity by Tal Bauer
Pucking Ever After Vol. 1 by Emily Rath
Thrust & Throttle by Emma Slate
Sugar and Skulls by LM Terry
The Ritual by Shantel Tessier
The Sinner by Shantel Tessier
The Sacrifice by Shantel Tessier
Washed in Blood by Ashley Lane
The Deal by Elle Kennedy
The Mistake by Elle Kennedy
The Score by Elle Kennedy
The Goal by Elle Kennedy
The Legacy by Elle Kennedy
Venom & Vengance by Emma Slate
Watercolor Skulls by LM Terry
The Rescue by Julie Weaver
Roses and Skulls by LM Terry
Runaway Love by Melanie Harlow
Simply Mine by Laura Pavlov
Tumblr media
What I heard in 2023
Icebraker by Hannah Grace
Blindsided by Amy Daws
The Hardest Fall by Ella Maise
The Wall of Winnipeg and Me by Mariana Zapata
Don't Kiss the Bride by Carian Cole
Power Play by Maria Luis
Sin Bin by Maria Luis
Twisted Love by Ana Huang
Twisted Games by Ana Huang
Twisted Hate by Ana Huang
Twisted Lies by Ana Huang
The Simple Wild by K.A. Tucker
Wild At Heart by K.A. Tucker
Forever Wild by K.A. Tucker
Throttled by Lauren Asher
Focused by Karla Sorensen
Running Wild by K.A. Tucker
The Fine Print by Lauren Asher
Faked by Karla Sorensen
Forbidden by Karla Sorensen
Floored by Karla Sorensen
The Marriage Effect by Karla Sorensen
The Bombshell Effect by Karla Sorensen
The Ex Effect by Karla Sorensen
Home Game by Odette Stone
Puck Me Secretly by Odette Stone
It Happened One Summer by Tessa Bailey
All Rhodes Lead Here by Mariana Zapata
Under Locke by Mariana Zapata
Repeat by Kylie Scott
tattered by Devney Perry
timid by Devney Perry
Hook, Line, and Sinker by Tessa Bailey
tragic by Devney Perry
tinsel by Devney Perry
Until it fades by K.A. Tucker
Kulti by Mariana Zapata
Back to Navigation
5 notes · View notes
brookstonalmanac · 1 year
Text
Holidays 2.7
Holidays
Ballet Day
Beatles Hit America Day
Charles Dickens Day
Colin Kaepernick Appreciation Day
Constitution Day (Mexico)
Daniel Boone Escape Day
”e” Day
Hug an Addict or Alcoholic Day
International Clash Day
International Start a Blog Day
Laura Ingalls Wilder Day
Love Your Robot Day
National Black Grandmothers Day
National Black HIV/AIDS Awareness Day
National Foreskin Appreciation Day
National Homegating Day
National Jack Day
National Periodic Table Day
National Run-For-Your-Life Day
National Signing Day
Northern Territories Day (Japan)
No Talk Day
Rose Day
Send a Card to a Friend Day
Star Wars Podcast Day
Violet Day
Wave All Your Fingers At Your Neighbors Day
The Weekend Day (Canada)
Who Shall I Be Day
Food & Drink Celebrations
Fettuccine Alfredo Day
1st Tuesday in February
African-American Coaches Day [1st Tuesday]
Safer Internet Day [1st Tuesday]
Independence Days
Grenada (from UK, 1974)
Feast Days
Alfred E. Neuman Day (Church of the SubGenius; Saint) 
Augulus, Bishop of London (Christian; Saint)
Blessed Eugénie Smet (Christian; Saint)
Chrysolius (Christian; Saint)
Colette of Corbie (Christian; Saint)
Day of Selene (Goddess of the Moon; Ancient Greece)
Egidio Maria of Saint Joseph (Christian; Saint)
Everyman’s Day
Feast of Mulk (Baha’i)
Ictinus (Positivist; Saint)
Just Another Day Day (a.k.a. No-Day Day; Pastafarian)
Luigi the Ice Cream Wolf (Muppetism)
Pius IX, Pope (Christian; Blessed)
Richard the Pilgrim (a.k.a. Richard, King of the West Saxons)
Romualdo, founder of the Order of Camaldoli (Christian; Saint)
Theodorus (a.k.a. Stratilates; Christian; Saint)
Tresain of Ireland (Christian; Saint)
Lucky & Unlucky Days
Perilous Day (13th Century England) [9 of 32]
Taian (大安 Japan) [Lucky all day.]
Umu Limnu (Evil Day; Babylonian Calendar; 6 of 60)
Unfortunate Day (Pagan) [9 of 57]
Premieres
Birds of Prey (Film; 2020)
Blazing Saddles (Film; 1974)
Breathless (Film; 1961)
The Color Purple (Film; 1986)
Elvis and Me (TV Mini-Series; 1981)
Hannah and Her Sisters (Film; 1986)
Lady Jane (Film; 1986)
The Lego Movie (Animated Film; 2014)
Letterkenny (TV Series; 2016)
Locke & Key (TV Series; 2020)
Manufacturing Consent, by Noam Chomsky and Edward S. Herman (Book; 1988)
Mickey’s Birthday Party (Disney Cartoon; 1940)
Norse Mythology, by Neil Gaiman (Stories; 2017)
Orpheus in the Underworld, by Jacques Offenbach (4-Act Opera; 1874)
Pinball Wizard, recorded by The Who (Song; 1969)
Pinocchio (Animated Disney Film; 1940)
Please Please Me, by The Beatles (Song; 1963)
Taxi Driver (Film; 1976)
Troilus and Cressida, by William Shakespeare (Play; 1603)
Today’s Name Days
Ava, Richard (Austria)
Držislav, Julijana, Maksim, Rikard (Croatia)
Veronika (Czech Republic)
Richard (Denmark)
Richard, Riho, Riko, Riku (Estonia)
Rikhard, Riku (Finland)
Eugénie (France)
Ava, Richard, Ronan (Germany)
Parthenios, Parthenis (Greece)
Rómeó, Tódor (Hungary)
Eugenia, Teodoro (Italy)
Daunis, Nelda, Richards, Rihards (Latvia)
Jomantė, Ričardas, Romualdas, Vildaugas (Lithuania)
Riborg, Rigmor, Rikard (Norway)
Romuald, Ryszard, Sulisław (Poland)
Partenie (Romania)
Vanda (Slovakia)
Ricardo (Spain)
Dick, Rikard (Sweden)
Teofil, Teofila (Ukraine)
Beau, Beaumont, Beverly, Bo, Boe, Jace, Jacey, Sinclair (USA)
Today is Also…
Day of Year: Day 38 of 2023; 327 days remaining in the year
ISO: Day 2 of week 6 of 2023
Celtic Tree Calendar: Luis (Rowan) [Day 17 of 28]
Chinese: Month 1 (Jia-Yin), Day 17 (Bing-Shen)
Chinese Year of the: Rabbit 4721 (until February 10, 2024)
Hebrew: 16 Shevat 5783
Islamic: 16 Rajab II 1444
J Cal: 8 Xin; Oneday [8 of 30]
Julian: 25 January 2023
Moon: 96%: Waning Gibbous
Positivist: 10 Homer (2nd Month) [Ictinus)
Runic Half Month: Elhaz (Elk) [Day 14 of 15]
Season: Winter (Day 49 of 90)
Zodiac: Aquarius (Day 18 of 30)
1 note · View note
gungieblog · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media
© Tami Freed/Shutterstock
Black Elk Peak, South Dakota
Black Elk Peak is the highest natural point in South Dakota and probably the best perch from which to gaze across Black Elk Wilderness, a remote swathe of the Black Hills National Forest named after a holy man of the Oglala Sioux. The peak is topped by a distinctive 1930s fire lookout tower, built from native stone, and looks over the dramatic landscape of pine forests, jagged peaks, canyons, lakes and open grasslands.
1 note · View note
asianartsblog · 9 days
Text
Tumblr media
The Noble Thing
Dad never talked about Minidoka.
That was the noble thing.
Before World War II,
there was Garfield High School for him,
ice skating on Greenlake,
dances at Lake Wilderness Lodge,
later his ownership of Elk Grocery
on Seneca Street.
He and my mother were
married in 1941,
ten months later to be removed
…forced… into the Minidoka concentration camp.
Mom was five months pregnant in August
with my older brother, Alan.
With black-out curtains drawn, the train
left Puyallup and climbed the Cascade mountains
until the land flattened and the inescapable sun
transformed the train cars into a moving sauna.
People gasped small, panicked breaths
from the superheated air.
Shikataganai—“It can’t be helped.”
The train stopped by the side of an unmarked road
in the Idaho desert, released
its passengers miles from any station.
Rumors spread they would be shot
or marched to death – their bodies stacked, then
carted away to some awaiting ditch.
Nowhere to run, they walk in their best shoes
in the gritty sand as on the face of the moon.
The heat caused some to faint
as they carried all they could.
Three years later, Dad returned
to Seattle after the War,
developed a bleeding ulcer,
lost his janitor job at the Earl Hotel.
Depression took Mom away
like invisible armed guards. She was
a stranger—a stick-like figure with arms
and legs poking out of a white smock,
pacing the sidewalk next
to the Western State Hospital turn-around.
Dad never talked about it, none of it.
I never heard him say the word Minidoka….
Gaman, “endure the unbearable with dignity.”
Shikatagani, my best friend’s mother chose pills for suicide.
After school, Randy my neighbor, opened the garage door
and found his father in a black suit, his best, hanged
by the neck, shikatagani, the same path other
Seattle Japanese chose—
numbers unknown. Shikataganai.
We, however, never talked about it.
That was the noble thing to do.
-- Lawrence Yutaka Matsuda's poem—from his book of poetry, A Cold Wind from Idaho, Black Lawrence Press, New York. Mr. Matsuda was born in Minidoka, Idaho War Relocation Center. He shared his story and some poems with Na Omi Judy Shintani when he was 75 years old.
Exhibition
Dream Refuge for children imprisoned
On view through May 18 (closed March 17-24)
Monday – Saturday 11 am – 4 pm
Asian Arts Gallery, Center for the Arts, Towson University
1 Fine Arts Drive, Towson, MD 21204
Through personal stories and the universal images of sleeping children safely dreaming, I provide a healing space to experience compassion, empathy, and new understanding of the unjust incarceration of children then and now in America. I conducted interviews and collected writings of those incarcerated during their childhood. Exhibit attendees can hear their recorded voices expressing portions of their stories broadcasted in the installation space and read the complete writings with photographs in binders.
--Na Omi Judy Shintani, artist
0 notes
scentedchildnacho · 11 days
Text
He said there are a lot of hungry people and they try but not enough.......so I told him they are trying to diversify people's understanding of religion and make scarce times things ladies always ordered to her field workers and students
Some of the hungry I don't feel bad for they do drugs they know people here don't want and marry Africans and annoy people by using air and water regulated differently and you have to go to indians and ask them to re open reform policy it's hey man you believe in God's and forced marriage so go to your house and leave my air space alone
Anyway cuny Fatima I found a book of prayer and thai alliances in Florida with legalization because people use to be comfortable and enjoy fasting and now fasting always feels like a beating
If it's men that have used boarding house systems a long time I don't feel bad for them it's get into your boarding house and leave me alone with your mean demonized spoiled behaviours because it's demonized to do
They are given and given and given and they keep wanting to practice a mafia idea of very bad God so I feel it's go to your boundary then and leave me alone
People use to like I'm not going to use the rest room today and now its always a problem
Anyway saint Brigette did show us the letter so the Pope thinks it's about reforestation............but to reinvigorate the idea of the native school as a public land
Is having to use the Indian.......appropriation act and it's having to qualify language and origin so
But the tong VA conservation ideas appear pretty okay with deciding they could want to stay here though white became the favored ideology to The World and the ten thousand year history so
Acorn meal....this could get demeanor and if your going to oat me then I will acorn you and sue you for treating sprains like it's a skin injury instead of reflexology
And if your going to corn me then I'm going to Mexican fruit you for treating drug consumption like mentalism instead of diabetes
But forestation could turn into plantations which might be good for say Alabama and Texas....instead of the rainforest
The attempts to put German colonial corn in Texas was mean and weird
The industry machines appeared more like frietal terrorists it's way louder and more irritating so I feel they should then have to replant the area with a plantation canopy because it's brutality requires exotics
Texas isn't a moderate prairie marsh ecology and the German colonialism isn't nice and charming like Wisconsin
Denton Texas has this fiery radiant red sunset that is more powerful then all his white lights combined if there is natural law like Isaiah it's you cannot be more important then nature and God
Isaiah but people should enjoy escaping the wilderness to cultivation though....in the wilderness abundance of everything and cultivation should be human emancipation rights though
The German colonials brought us robotics so I'm not chained to ox and cart and the union soldiers took their families and each their own a small royal house manor
Chicago sociology George simmel Gregor Mendel .....these though we're not french papers these were Austrian....
And if you won't stop salmon ing me I will turtle all the lakes
Black elk speaks and I will start calling the elk camel and refuse to get my ass bounced on a horse when I could rock gently
The Native school....there are still china schools in Wisconsin near the casino so it would be having to look into the Greek complexes....and starting to re china them as Wisconsin still equitably divides public school so many whites so many Asians
Then there would have to be comparative antiquities in high schools which use to only be private to do
The Roman school of football baseball or basketball when more lines could have been drawn on the fields and courts
Fatima saik
Oriental the school now it's about the shadow of the West instead of white
Edward....how a disparate people become one
Edward said we will all be one people....these things under Korean policy were not separate my high school priorly was not separate
What does a white person look like.....I don't think she is laotian or Vietnamese I think she was white but went to that room for lunch
That's the folks it's allowing these new civilities to gather with white communities and that's how now arrives instead of history
My mother and her friends were very sunny dark exotic people but we called fair and different from asiatics?
At church they did explain that tattoo bar images are like their chosen ladies and they are like with the church and they didn't want generationally for them to be Catholic school girls so
The veterans allowed me cross dressing because they didn't want me to be too beat up or get stalked into the muslim world
They didn't want me to have to wear a burka to be modest
Uhm my lady if it's Wisconsin would not mark up her skin with tattoos but wels synod is not elca
They are more German populations affiliated with the church would drop too dramatically because congregants thought they had to be too good for people so
Because beguine the lady may show me to stop feeling too passive
Fish.....fishing I never fish....
I remember diving
Lobster in the Pacific......just go get that out of there
I guess people stole the kellogs company and have claimed we have to change to systems we weren't raised on........I don't know I think their a mean horney God and she has to learn tattoos or they do it
I notice their God to that type of reefer is a superior male God.....and they stalk homeless women because they know I take virginal vows and they want the appearance and clemency of first marriage and yet advertise themselves as very used people
Some of the men do stalk me and I tolerate it because their pedophiles and if it wasn't my innocence it would be a minor but they want to feel better then me and to orate their reefer message to me and I as a submissive already have dominant ideologies that leave me alone if ideology has become ranked
That's what's annoying and stupid about them they want to steal rights to rank ideology then they want to be around their submissives all the time when we have decided that this is about computers
I just hate smoked marijuana right now I just can't understand when it's now they have so much legality and will still smoke marijuana and I just hate hate that smell
0 notes
soaplake-resort · 27 days
Text
10 Eastern Washington Hikes for a Day Trip
Tumblr media
Lace up your kicks, because it’s time to take a hike! Eastern Washington is home to scenic wildlife and landscapes that are best seen on foot traversing through steep inclines, alongside rivers, and winding through mountainous forests.
If you’re Places to Visit in Washington State area, your trip won’t be complete without these top day trip worthy Eastern Washington hikes. Check them out!
Enjoy All The Beauty That Washington Has To Offer With These Eastern Washington Hikes
Hoh Rainforest Trail
Don’t miss the Hoh Rainforest Trail in the Olympic National Park! The trail is home to Roosevelt elk, various species of cascading moss, and large trees that look like something out of a sci-fi movie. This 10.6-mile hike ascends 500 feet—perfect for first-time backpackers and adventurous nomads.
Horseshoe Basin
Trek through the great outdoors of the North Cascades on the Horseshoe Basin trail near the Canadian border. This trail is home to an abundance of wildlife, including bears, deer, and bighorn sheep. However keep in mind, that this 12-mile roundtrip day hike is not for the faint of heart.
Anderson And Watson Lakes
You haven’t seen the best of Eastern Washington’s hiking trails until you’ve journeyed to the Anderson and Watson Lakes. This relatively easy hike is perfect for families and inexperienced hikers. Along the six-mile trail are copious opportunities for breathtaking glimpses of mountain ranges, and of course sleek views of the glassy Anderson and Watson Lakes.
Spider Meadow And Phelps Basin
Strap on your day pack for this 13-mile hike across the Central Cascades. Spider Meadow and Phelps Basin is an arduous hike with rewarding views of the glorious Glacier Peak Wilderness. As a result, this hike will challenge even the most seasoned hikers as it ascends nearly 2000 feet.
Rialto Beach And Hole-In-The-Wall
Escape to the beach! Stroll the rocky shore of Rialto Beach to explore the seaside wildlife, including whales, sea lions, otters, and seabirds. In addition, the beach hike has spectacular views of James and Little James islands.
Bird Mountain Loop
Get away from the hustle and bustle at Bird Mountain! The Bird Mountain Loop is a 10-mile trek in the Mount Adams area. This intermediate level hike ascends 1,875 feet and reaches an elevation of 5,230 feet. Additionally, this winding hike through the South Cascades has several campsites perfect for an overnight stay.
Tumblr media
Tolmie Peak Lookout
You won’t be able to get enough of the views at Tolmie Peak Lookout! This trail begins at the Mowich campground with immediate views of Mowich Lake. In addition, the hike reveals scenic views of Eunice Lake, Carbon River Valley, and Mount Rainer.
Tipsoo Lake-Naches Peak Loop
Pack up the family car for this easy day hike! Tipsoo Lake-Naches Peak Loop is an all-levels three-mile hike in Steven’s Canyon. Even more, this hike is short and flat, only gaining about 600 feet in elevation. In the peak months of August and September, visitors are treated with spectacular views of fields of wildflowers—perfect for an impromptu photo-op.
Quinault River-Pony Bridge-Enchanted Valley
Keep your eyes peeled in the Enchanted Valley! The Valley is home to deer, elk, black bears, woodpeckers and more! Because this lush area receives about 14 feet of rain each year, the wildlife and flora here grow in abundance.
Larch Lake
Larch Lake is a year-round destination that provides beautiful scenery! Visitors especially appreciate the beautiful green, red, and yellow colors of the autumn foliage. Hikers travel along the McCue Ridge to reveal an all-encompassing view of the crystal-like Larch Lake and Chiwaukum Lake.
Turn Your Day Trip Into A Weekend Affair!
Eastern Washington is home to a plethora of scenic hikes! However, to see it all, you might consider making your day trip into a weekend-long trip of nature hikes.
Experience all that Washington has to offer at the conveniently located Soap Lake Resort—a resort town located less than two hours away from Spokane. The resort sits on top of Soap Lake, a body of mineral waters with Healing Mud Treatments properties. Recuperate after a long day of hiking in Soap Lake to naturally improve blood circulation, or take a swim in the cooling water. Contact Soap Lake Resort at 509-246-0462 to book your stay at this luxurious resort.
1 note · View note
mymiraclebox · 1 year
Text
The Many Miracle Boxes
The Native American Box Kiikaa, the Thunderbird of Electricity (Elemental) Shashh, the Bear of Preservation (Timekeeper) Tyyto, the Barn Owl of Secrets (Delta) Chaapa, the Beaver of Innovation (Delta) Yanna, the Bison of Victory (Delta) Dess, the Cougar of Apathy (Delta) Banditt, the Coyote of Guile (Delta) Fawnna, the Deer of Wilderness (Delta) Liiri, the Eagle of Freedom (Delta) Sorren, the Falcon of Observation (Delta) Karrma, the Goose of Justice (Delta) Skipp, the Grasshopper of Scarcity (Delta) Ziibi, the Otter of Transformation (Delta) Habuu, the Rattlesnake of Beauty (Delta) Ommen, the Raven of Probability (Delta) Finn, the Salmon of Wisdom (Delta) Drill, the Woodpecker of Dimension (Delta)
The Wandering Box Graay, the Wolf of Order (Alpha) Prrysm, the Platypus of Chaos (Alpha) Emburr, the Phoenix of Fire (Elemental) Frostt, the Penguin of Endurance (Timekeeper) Seer, the Tuatara of Quondam (Timekeeper) Kicc, the Kangaroo of Avarice (Delta) Attlantis, the Octopus of Choice (Delta) Linn, the Pangolin of Boundary (Delta) Yuume, the Sheep of Dreams (Delta) Prrince, the Swan of Loyalty (Delta)
The Climate Box Duskk, the Grim of Darkness (Elemental) Kirrin, the Qilin of Light (Elemental) Allta, the Frog of Change (Timekeeper) Sicco, the Camel of Desert (Delta) Florra, the Elk of Forest (Delta) Nixx, the Polar Bear of Tundra (Delta) Aqqua, the Seal of Sea (Delta)
The Desert Box Skyy, the Griffin of Air (Elemental) Zipp, the Dragonfly of Progression (Timekeeper) Sennta, the Chameleon of Emotion (Delta) Tuskk, the Elephant of Memories (Delta) Parra, the Giraffe of Confusion (Delta) Sotaa, the Honey Badger of Conflict (Delta) Niisha, the Painted Lycaon of Connections (Delta) Flairr, the Secretarybird of Passion (Delta)
The Forgotten Box Vitaa, the Panda of Life (Alpha) Shii, the Crow of Death (Alpha) Uunice, the Unicorn of Magic (Elemental)
The Jungle Box Stellar, the Firefly of Space (Alpha) Koree, the Raccoon of Void (Alpha) Tonna, the Feathered Serpent of Earth (Elemental) Passtel, the Sloth of Patience (Timekeeper) Faae, the Spider of Destiny (Timekeeper) Llucie, the Caiman of Clarity (Delta) Clikk, the Dolphin of Sound (Delta) Belaa, the Jaguar of Imperception (Delta) Ecco, the Parrot of Language (Delta) Fangg, the Vampire Bat of Fatigue (Delta)
The Mountain Box Ziima, the Yeti of Glaciation (Elemental) Apple, the Red Panda of Lineage (Timekeeper) Misst, the Chipmunk of Elusion (Delta) Anjjel, the Lark of Mercy (Delta) Pilott, the Moose of Direction (Delta) Frijj, the Snow Leopard of Silence (Delta)
The Savannah Box Matto, the Pterosaur of Gravity (Elemental) Keena, the Lemur of Intuition (Timekeeper) Purr, the Cheetah of Sensitivity (Delta) Atticus, the Gorilla of Mathematics (Delta) Duux, the Moth of Guidance (Delta) Huue, the Rainbow Agama of Color (Delta) Kaanda, the Rhino of Augmentation (Delta) Divvi, the Zebra of Duality (Delta)
The Zodiac Box Nokk, the Kelpie of Water (Elemental, Aquarius) Antiqq, the Aurochs of Reversion (Timekeeper, Taurus) Harmonee, the Ant of Cooperation (Delta, Gemini) Snapp, the Crab of Adaptation (Delta, Cancer) Saage, the Dove of Peace (Delta, Virgo) Elle the Gecko of Equality (Delta, Libra) Gloss, the Ibex of Friction (Delta, Capricorn) Valoree, the Lion of Courage (Delta, Leo) Baash, the Mouflon of Strength (Delta, Aries) Daante, the Pike of Intimidation (Delta, Pisces) Spikke, the Porcupine of Precision (Delta, Sagittarius) Verriti, the Scorpion of Truth (Delta, Scorpio)
The Mother Box Tikki, the Ladybug of Creation (Alpha) Plagg, the Black Cat of Destruction (Alpha) Longg, the Dragon of Storm (Elemental)  Sass, the Cobra of Opportunity (Timekeeper) Fluff, the Rabbit of Evolution (Timekeeper) Pollen, the Bee of Subjection (Delta) Nooroo, the Butterfly of Generosity (Delta) Barkk, the Dog of Detection (Delta) Trixx, the Fox of Deception (Delta) Ziggy, the Goat of Imagination (Delta) Kaalki, the Horse of Migration (Delta) Xuppu, the Monkey of Derision (Delta) Mullo, the Mouse of Abundance (Delta) Stompp, the Ox of Determination (Delta) Duusu, the Peacock of Psyche (Delta) Daizzi, the Pig of Compassion (Delta) Orikko, the Rooster of Vigor (Delta) Roaar, the Tiger of Force (Delta) Wayzz, the Turtle of Protection (Delta)
54 notes · View notes
chaddavisphotography · 2 months
Photo
Tumblr media
Black Elk Peak (formerly Harney Peak) is the highest natural point in South Dakota, United States. It lies in the Black Elk Wilderness area, in southern Pennington County, in the Black Hills National Forest. The peak lies 3.7 mi (6.0 km) west-southwest of Mount Rushmore. At 7,242 feet (2,207 m), it has been described by the Board on Geographical Names as the highest summit in the United States east of the Rocky Mountains. Though part of the North American Cordillera, it is generally considered to be geologically separate from the Rocky Mountains. Lost Mine peak in the Chisos mountains of Texas, at an elevation of 7,535 feet, is the furthest east peak within the continental United States above 7,000 feet. Source: Wikipedia
0 notes
besthuntgear · 2 months
Text
Top Hunting Destinations in the United States
Tumblr media
Hunting is not just a sport; it's a tradition that connects us with nature, tests our skills, and offers a unique adventure every time. The United States, with its vast and diverse landscapes, offers some of the best hunting grounds in the world. From the rolling hills of Nebraska to the remote wilderness of Alaska, each destination provides hunters with a unique experience. This guide delves into the premier hunting locations across the United States, offering insights into what makes each spot exceptional. Key Takeaways - Nebraska Sandhills offers affordable, D.I.Y. opportunities for mule deer hunting in an ideal habitat. - Northern Saskatchewan is renowned for its remote black bear hunting grounds, where bears often die of old age. - Alberta is a hotspot for hunters seeking trophy-sized, velvet-antlered mule deer through spot-and-stalk hunting. - Winter Hunting in Montana goes beyond the usual, exploring cold-weather hunting opportunities. - Summer Hunting Guide provides insights into what to hunt and where during the warmer months. North America's Premier Hunting Locations Nebraska Sandhills for Mule Deer The Nebraska Sandhills offer an unparalleled hunting experience for those in pursuit of mule deer. This region's vast rolling hills, intertwined with creek bottoms and patches of agriculture, create an ideal habitat for mule deer to thrive. What makes the Sandhills stand out is not just the abundance of game but also the affordability and accessibility for D.I.Y. hunters. The opportunity to stalk a big mule deer buck in such an expansive and beautiful landscape is a dream come true for many. Northern Saskatchewan for Black Bears Northern Saskatchewan is a hidden gem for black bear hunting. This area's vast wilderness, accessible only by boat or plane, is home to black bears that often reach old age, untouched by hunters. The few outfitters who venture into these remote areas offer an exclusive hunting experience, where the chances of encountering a record-book bear are exceptionally high. The thrill of hunting in such a pristine and secluded environment is unmatched. Alberta for Velvet Antlered Mule Deer Alberta is renowned for its mule deer hunting, especially during the season when the deer sport their velvet antlers. The region's landscape is perfect for spot-and-stalk hunting, offering hunters the challenge of getting close to these magnificent animals. The prospect of hunting a three-hundred-plus-pound muley in velvet is a significant draw for bowhunters, making Alberta a top destination for those seeking a trophy. Best Hunting States in America A study by Forbes ranked the best hunting states in America, taking into account a variety of factors such as the diversity of game, quality of the hunting experience, and conservation efforts. While this ranking is subjective, it highlights the rich hunting culture and opportunities available across the country. Rank State Notable Game Why It's Top 1 Montana Elk, Deer, Bear Diverse landscapes offering a wide range of hunting experiences. 2 Wyoming Antelope, Elk, Mule Deer High game density and vast public lands. 3 Alaska Moose, Bear, Caribou Remote and challenging hunting grounds. 4 Idaho Elk, Deer, Bear Over-the-counter tags and vast wilderness areas. 5 Colorado Elk, Mule Deer, Bear Large elk herds and scenic hunting locations. This table showcases the diversity and richness of hunting experiences across the United States, making it a premier destination for hunters worldwide. International Hunting Destinations While the United States offers a vast array of hunting opportunities, hunters often look beyond its borders for unique experiences. European countries, with their rich hunting traditions, offer a different kind of hunt, often focusing on game management and conservation. African safaris, on the other hand, promise an adventure with big game like lions, elephants, and rhinos, providing hunters with a once-in-a-lifetime experience. Asia's diverse ecosystems offer unique hunting opportunities, from the Siberian taiga to the jungles of Southeast Asia. Unique Hunting Experiences Winter Hunting in Montana Montana is not just a top hunting destination for its game but also for the unique experience of winter hunting. Beyond the well-known Alaskan winter hunts, Montana offers hunters the chance to track game through snow-covered landscapes, adding an extra layer of challenge and excitement to the hunt. Summer Hunting Guide Summer offers its own set of hunting opportunities, from pronghorn antelope in the West to wild boar in the South. This guide provides hunters with information on what game is in season during the summer months and the best places to find them. Planning Your Hunting Trip When planning a hunting trip, logistics and preparation are key. Understanding the regulations, obtaining the necessary permits, and preparing for the terrain and weather conditions are crucial steps in ensuring a successful and ethical hunt. Hunters should also consider the gear and equipment needed for their specific destination, adapting their kit to suit the environment and game they are pursuing. Gear and Equipment for Different Destinations The right gear and equipment can make a significant difference in the success of your hunt. From the rugged mountains of Alaska to the dense forests of the East Coast, each hunting destination requires a tailored approach to gear. Lightweight, durable clothing, appropriate firearms or bows, and camping equipment for multi-day hunts are just a few considerations hunters must make. Gear and Equipment for Different Destinations Choosing the right gear and equipment is essential for a successful hunt. Here's a quick guide to help you match your gear to your destination: Destination Essential Gear and Equipment Mountainous Areas Lightweight, durable clothing, high-quality boots, backpack with hydration system Forested Regions Camouflage clothing, scent control products, tree stands or ground blinds Open Plains Long-range rifles, binoculars, portable hides for concealment This table highlights the importance of tailoring your equipment to the environment you'll be hunting in. Planning Your Hunting Trip Effective planning is the cornerstone of any successful hunting trip. Consider the following aspects to ensure a smooth experience: - Season and Weather: Research the best times to hunt your chosen game and prepare for the weather conditions you'll encounter. - Licenses and Permits: Ensure you have all necessary licenses and permits well in advance of your trip. - Local Knowledge: Engage with local hunters or guides who can provide invaluable insights into the area and the habits of the game. - Safety Precautions: Always prioritize safety by informing someone of your hunting plan and carrying a first aid kit and communication device. Frequently Asked Questions For beginners, states like Texas and Pennsylvania offer a wealth of resources, guides, and outfitters to help novices get started. These states have a high success rate for deer hunting and provide ample opportunities to learn the ropes in a supportive environment.Preparing for an international hunting trip involves several key steps: - Research and select a reputable outfitter who specializes in the game you wish to hunt. - Understand the legal requirements, including visas, hunting licenses, and importation of firearms. - Prepare physically for the demands of hunting in a different environment, which may include altitude acclimatization and endurance training. - Familiarize yourself with local customs and hunting etiquette to ensure a respectful and ethical hunting experience. Ethical hunting practices are crucial for the conservation of wildlife and habitats. They include: - Hunting legally by following all local, state, and federal regulations. - Practicing fair chase principles, respecting the animal, and avoiding any practices that give the hunter an unfair advantage. - Ensuring a quick and humane kill to minimize the animal's suffering. - Utilizing the game by harvesting and using as much of the animal as possible. Read the full article
0 notes
whitepolaris · 3 months
Text
Devil Deer
You know, it's funny, in the 1970s and '80s, we went through a period during which wild animals population were dwindling and seldom seen, and now we're in a peculiar moment in history when they're dwindling more than ever, but we're far more likely to encounter them now because their natural habitat is so encroached upon by civilization. Case in point: Just a few years ago I was walking through a small semi-wooded area being cleared for a forthcoming subdivision. There were a lot of bulldozers around and hammering going on, making it the last place I'd except to see deer.
As I was walking down a recently paved road, an impossibly enormous elk jumped out of the shrubbery and charged straight at me. All my life, it's always been deer running from me, not straight at me! Its antlers were crazy-multi-tined and asymmetrical-and its eyes were like evil, black, soulless marbles. I moved out of the creature's way, and fortunately, it kept charging along its prescribed path, crashing through the shrubbery on the other side of the road. And then it was gone.
I recounted the incident to an old-timer hunter, and he eyes widened. "You know whatchoo saw!" he exclaimed. "Son, you saw the DEVIL DEER! Do you know how many hunters would give their left [arm] to see the Devil Deer?" Prodded to elaborate further, he told me, "All serious big-time hunters know about Devil Deer, and that they're the most dangerous thing in all the wilderness. They're bigger, meaner, and crazier than regular deer, and they cain't be killed!"
What I don't know about the world of hunting, you can almost fit into the Hollywood Bowl. So I remain unsure if this guy was either crazy or just pulling my leg with some sort of "Great Pumpkin" story for drunken outdoorsmen. -JSH
0 notes