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detroitbydark · 4 years

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Part Four

Character: Commander Fox x Reader

Warnings: None

Summary: Two steps forward, one giant step back -or- Fox can't win for losing

A/N: You ever want to just press two people's head together until they kiss, like you did with dolls as a kid? wait, you didn't do that? Me either. That's why these two assholes still haven't hooked up. Cheers!

All parts can be found here on my Masterlist

The beginning of the week rolls around with new challenges, the least of which is the lingering stiffness Fox feels rolling out of bed. He wakes before his alarm and tries to work out the aches in a hot shower. He wants to get on his knees and thank the Maker for a private ‘fresher and never having to jockey with one of his men for the last of the hot water. It does wonders to relax the muscles that have seized up overnight. The bacta infusion in the wee hours of the previous morning hadn’t hurt much either.

As much as he’d voiced his displeasure, Wolffe had remained with him until medical had begrudgingly discharged him.

He wasn’t 100%, his ribs were still far more tender then he liked and the cut above his eye was barely fused together, but he knew if he spent any more time under the medics watchful eyes he was going to come out of his skin. His Ori’vod has come to bat for him and helped him back to his room after he’d convinced them to let him go.

The cross-eyed son of a nerf herder had also emptied his bottle of drink down the ‘fresher sink in front of him.

“I hear you haven’t been coping well.”

And just like that they were talking about CT-5555 and the incident and everything he’d have much rather let stew.

vod’kyramund

That’s what the trooper from the 501st had called him. It cut. It bled and festered. It hurt. Wolffe listened as he relived the night in detail, exhaustion nipping at his heels with each word he spoke. But he knew he needed to do it. To say it. He’d never admitted his lingering confusion about everything leading up to the incident to another soul.

Fox had never met a brother with his blaster set to anything other than stun. It was his default setting in any situation. Like he’d always told his men, you can’t interrogate the dead.

You also couldn’t go around shooting civvies without them distrusting you anymore then they already did.

He didn’t know how the blaster had been switched to lethal bolts. He didn’t remember when it could have happened. Damningly, he also didn’t remember reverifying the setting, something he always did before going out. Wolffe was the best set of ears he could have asked for. He didn’t say anything when Fox had to excuse himself to be sick.

Wolffe stayed until he’d fallen asleep, curling into him like they had as cadets during training. When he woke he was gone and so were the other three bottles of stock he kept squirreled away for emergencies. He’d cursed the other commander but knew why he’d done it.

It still didn’t mean he had to like it.

He’d allowed himself the luxury of sleep for the better part of the day, waking for the fresher and to make a memo to have Y/N pull up the incident report involving CT-5555. He needed to read it again if only to prove to himself that there was no other way for it to have ended, to find some sort of relief from the guilt that was gnawing at him.

He pushes Fives to the back burner and begins rounds on his men. He’d gotten the worst of it by far but the boys were feeling it.

Wren and Rule, his kits, both stumbled to the door to greet him with half a dozen questions. The pair had never been parted and hadn’t wanted to start when they’d been assigned quarters. Had he not looked back at their record, Fox would have thought them twins.

Thire has been less than happy to be woken up and Fox didn’t fault him for that, he sported a tender looking split lip and a black eye.

Ryk and Hound had greeted him, each far more chipperly then he felt appropriate. He left their rooms feeling a little disgruntled they weren’t as sore as he was.

He slept through the afternoon and into the evening. For the first time in a month and a half he didn’t dream about Fives.

He dreamt about his Little Mouse, the one who was not really his.

It wasn’t a dream he liked. He was merely swapping out one protagonist for the other in a nightmare where he was always the villain.

Pieces and parts were lost to him by the time he woke but, clear as can be, he can see himself holding his blaster, aiming center mass, as she held one shakingly at him. He’s yelling, the words lost to the sands of sleep, and tears stain her cheeks as she hiccups softly.

“Fox… it’s me”

His finger is wrapped tight around the trigger. Safety off. He exerts just a little pressure as the blaster wobbles in her grip. Something purrs at him, curls around him, encourages him to do it.

“Fox…”

He wakes up as the blaster echoes in his head.

———

0700 on the dot, Commander Fox strides into the office.

You can see the stiffness in his gait out of the corner of your eye. You find something incredibly interesting on the datapad in front of you. He doesn’t greet you and you don’t offer one of your own. An impromptu apology almost spills out of your mouth but you bite the inside of your cheeks to stop the flow of it.

His door slides shut with an almost inaudible hiss and you melt into your seat.

An hour passes.

Then two.

Then three.

Then he’s leaving without so much as a tip of the helmet in your direction.

This was better, right? This is what needed to happen because you could not continue to harbor an ill advised crush on your superior.

But...

This was not what you wanted. You wanted to see how he was fairing. You wanted to help him however you could. You wanted to forget about seeing him bloodied and remember the almost tender smile he’d given you when you’d leaned into him, or the way his hand felt guiding you through the crowd, fingers protectively spanning your lower back. You had spent the day before in bed remembering what his attention had felt like, tending the spark of the flame that grew a little more in your belly each time you allowed yourself to dwell on it.

You watch the seconds tick by on the chrono, the office maddeningly silent as you wait for him to come back. You wait the rest of the day. Fox doesn’t return.

The next day a file request is flashing on your datapad. Your work to pull up the case number and load it to the Commanders’s datapad.

By 0900 he still has not arrived at the office. You comm down to dispatch and they inform you that Commander Fox would be accompanying the Chancellor to the Senate for the day.

Fox hated the Senate floor. He hated it more than he hated being stuck behind a desk with paperwork.

While outwardly you knew all clones loyalty lay with the Republic you couldn’t ignore the times you’d heard the Commander quietly lament the character of the Senators they were tasked with guarding. Very few passed the Commander’s high standards of honor and integrity. Bodyguard duty at the Senate was comparable to slow torture, the only task he’d happily pass on to one of his men without a second thought.

You admired that about the Commander. The fact that he rarely refused to put himself in every job within his men’s jurisdiction from detention duty to traffic tickets, to interdiction. Now though, you find it irritating - even more so when Wren stops by your desk with a cup of caf and a pastry, his bucket balanced precariously across his forearm.

“Yummy treats for a yummy girl.”

You give him a sour expression and he laughs, “come on Mouse, it’s funny. I’m cute right?”

“Not nearly as much as you think.” You make a point of not looking at him.

The Sargent makes a wounded sound while you take the cup. He’s made it perfect and you can’t keep the stony expression on your face after you take the first sip and a contented sigh escapes you.

“Gotcha!” He leans against the desk and you offer him a tired smile “Least I can do with the Commander leaving you all by your lonesome.”

You nibble at the pastry. It’s honey sweet and sticky, the buttery layers flake and crumbs stick to your fingers.

You swallow each bite down with the strong caf he’s brought, likely from the pot in the speeder pool where it was often insinuated it could be swapped with the high octane speeder fuel and no one would be the wiser.

“I didn’t realize the Commander was pulling protection detail this week” you sniff glancing at a report on your datapad as if you weren’t supremely curious.

“He wasn’t supposed too, he swapped with Hound.” He reaches to snatch an uneaten piece of pastry and you slap at his hand but he’s quicker then you and has it in his mouth before you have a chance to snatch it back.

“Rude” you mutter lowly only earning a laugh.

“I’m glad you survived the other night with your good humor intact” you glance up to see a concerned look on his face “we were all a bit worried about you. Rule nearly had a kittens.”

“I mean, it turned out fine. Right?”

“Mouse?” His fist bumps into your shoulder lightly and you look up into a very concerned face. “We’re all ok. It’s no big deal, ok? It happens sometimes. Too much booze and battle stress and-” Wren shrugs. His eyes examine your face. His hand closes over yours, the gauntlet completely obscuring your hand underneath. “You were scared, weren't you?”

Maybe you weren’t. Maybe you were. You weren’t entirely sure. At the time it had been scary, yeah, but it wasn’t the Guards fault some drunk from the 501st wanted to start a fight. They were just protecting each other like they were supposed to. Maybe you were just more startled, that was probably it. Now, you just wanted to check in on Fox and make sure he was ok.

“I’m fine, Wren” you offer what you hope is a convincing smile “I think.”

The buzzing of his comms interrupts anything he was preparing to say. Wren frowns as you both listen to an all points coming through.

“I should probably head out” he offers another barely there love tap to your shoulder before he’s on his way.

Back to work, you pull up the schedule for the rest of the week while you pull up the HNE news feed on a seperate screen. you listen half-heartedly as the reporter drones on listing off casualty statistics, making a point to seperate the numbers of clones and non clone GAR personnel, like one mattered more than the rest.

The segway into the next segment slides across the screen with a quick montage of popular- and not so popular- senators speaking- and sometimes shouting- on the senate floor.

“And now in Senate new Chancellor Sheev Palpatine's overriding vote came as a shock to the gathered assembly...”

The clip disappears into a video from today. You freeze when you see the Supreme Chancellor presiding over the Senate. You tried to stay out of politics but something about Sheev Palpatine always put you off. It was his eyes. The politician's smile never reached them.

You continue to watch, only half listening as a wide shot brings into focus more of the Chancellor. Your eyes travel to the Coruscant Guard standing protectively behind the Chancellor. Thire is at his right and- your chest tightens- Fox is on his left. You don’t hear anything about referendums or treaties or the rising anti-Republic sentiment. You just see Fox.

———-

“Commander Fox. Come here”

Thire moves to take point as Fox falls back at the Chancellor’s request. “Is everything alright Chancellor.”

The old man waves dismissively, a smile pulling at his mouth. It makes Fox uncomfortable, “it’s fine. Everything’s fine, my friend. I wanted to have a word with you.”

Fox has never considered someone as influential as the Chancellor of the Galactic Republic to be a friend. The notion seemed wildly inappropriate like a tooka keeping a pet rancor. “Sir?”

“I sense something is burdening you, Commander.” The chancellor barely casts a glance toward him but Fox feels a prickle of something primal - sharp - in his belly. It was silly. He supposed but he was a Shock Trooper, a commander in the Grand Army of the Republic. He didn’t wear his emotions on his sleeve. He was the picture of military excellence. Unless he was slipping. He glances ahead at Thire as they make the turn to the Chancellor’s office. His vod doesn’t look back.

“Sir, I’m not-“

Palpatine waves a hand, “you are not in trouble Commander. I simply wonder if there is not some way I can advise you?”

The question hangs in the air. Fox lets his head continue to scan from side to side, eyes assessing the transparisteel lined wall as they enter the office. He hated that wall. It offered far too many opportunities for a sniper with the right kit and time to wait.

“Maybe this is about the traitor? The clone?”

Fox is quiet, his back ramrod straight. Thire glances at him from his spot by the door and Fox offers him a small nod before the other Commander is taking up a sentry position outside the door. A smile plays at the chancellor’s lips.

“Or maybe it’s something different” Palpatine turns his attention to Fox and looks him over. The prickle in his gut gets worse, a biological warning that something wasn’t right. He feels like a bug under a microscope, about to be dissected by the smiling visage of the old man in front him. “Maybe a girl then?”

“Chancellor Palpatine, such things are expressly against regulation four-“ he’s interrupted from rattling off the exact regulation as the Chancellor sweeps away from him and toward the window, his robes flowing behind him. He stands against the window, the light around him casting him as a dark shadow.

“You are a man, are you not? Not just a meat covered droid as some would lead you to think. Clone or otherwise, it’s natural for you to desire. When this war is over I feel we will see a dawning of a new era. Have you thought about what will become of you after the Separatists are defeated?”

Of course he’s thought about it. Any clone who’d say otherwise was a liar. Some looked at the future with fear and apprehension, others a sense of hope, some only with mild curiosity. That being said he wasn’t about to admit to any of that to the chancellor.

“It hadn’t crossed my mind”

Palpatine turns, narrows his eyes. It's just a minute twitch that Fox is scarcely sure he’s seen before it disappears, melts back into the serene expression he typically wore.

“I suppose I will stay on with the GAR if they’ll have me.” He relents, “or find a civilian defense contract.”

“And what of family? I know you clones hold the term of brother, of vod,” it sounds like a dirty word coming from his mouth, “close to your hearts. Do you want for more?”

The Chancellor’s eyes bore into him, searching, prodding for something that Fox can’t understand. He tries to sound light as he speaks as if the line of questioning wasn’t sending up so many warning signals. “I don’t think the Senate would approve of their weapons starting families.”

Palpatine gives him a grin, it’s devoid of warmth, lifeless. More of an impression of a smile, meant to be inviting but only working to raise the hairs on the back of Fox’s neck . “Dear boy,” he offers an encompassing sweep of the hand and a light tone “I am the Senate.”

#commander Fox #commander fox/reader #commander fox x reader #tcw

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jayjaynerdybird · 4 years

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This started out as a drabble for @nightwingshero using her OC Deputy Wren Blake that she requested I continue so... Here you go sweetie! I hope you like it! <3

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John let out a deep sigh as he shoved the pile of paperwork away from him. For hours now he'd been sitting here doing the same damn thing. Paperwork.

Leaning back in his chair he began to massage his temples, hoping that it might help to stave off the migraine that had been building for over an hour now.

With one last glance at the stack of papers taunting him John scoffed and pushed away from his desk, getting to his feet and wincing at the twinge in his neck from being bent over for so long.

With yet another deep sigh he flicked his office light off and began to make his way into the kitchen. Food and maybe some scotch. That's what he desperately needed at this point.

Maybe he still had some pasta leftover from last night?

Opening the fridge John winced as the bright light assaulted his eyes before he narrowed them into a glare at the offending light and pulled out his quarry.

With a satisfied smirk he quickly tossed the Tupperware into the microwave and hit a button absentmindedly as he reached for his scotch.

Just as his fingers brushed against the cool glass if his decanter a soft knock, just barely audible over the hum of the microwave sounded.

John's shoulders tensed and his eyes narrowed. He swore if this wasn't important someone's head was going to roll.

With a huff he marched toward the front door, the thump of his feet against the floor sounding suspiciously far too loud to his own ears and only proving to worsen his mood with each step.

With a sneer and far more force than necessary he flung the door open, his frozen mind distantly recognizing the bang as it hit the wall.

What... What was happening?

There on his doorway stood the Deputy of Hope County, Wren Blake. But she looked far different than the last time he had seen her.

Her black hair hung limp and stringy, clumping against her cheeks and neck, her pupils blown wide to the point where her eyes looked black instead of the lovely blue that he so loved to see sparkle with fire, and her pale skin pallid with splotches of pink.

She looked more like one of the other druggies that he had met in his time on the streets than like the little spitfire who was causing quite a bit of his current troubles.

As Wren swayed, clutching desperately to the frame of his door, his mind finally began to work, reaching out slowly to help steady her.

"I- I'm sorry," even her voice was different; soft, airy, and weak. "I... I didn't have anywhere else to go."

There was a sob in her voice, her eyes bright with the tears she was trying so desperately to hold back.

With gentle hands John guided her inside, he knew what had happened to her without needing to be told, the scent of bliss hanging around her strongly. Of course, the lack of mist or excess salivation also showed that she had not ingested or been doused in it, instead it had been injected into her, and not of her own will.

Settling her down onto his couch John decided to help the Deputy through this, just as Joseph had helped him in the past. She didn't need to say yes, she had already accepted that he could save her, she had come to him in her time of need, hadn't she?

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Wren was freezing despite the fire that crackled in the grate beside her, the flames warming her skin but still failing to sink lower than that and sooth the icy grip that held the rest of her hostage. The weight of a throw blanket on top of her serving no purpose other than to make her feel suffocated rather than comforted.

Her entire body felt mixed between the sensations of being nothing more than a wisp of smoke mere moments from vanishing completely and a statue made of ice and bone, teetering on the edge of its stand, ready to shatter when gravity finally decided to take back its ownership of the moment and drag it into oblivion.

Each thud of her heart brought a pang of agony to her mind, a soft buzzing sound coming from somewhere nearby, the scent of tomatoes, onion and garlic causing her stomach to churn uncomfortably despite the hollow ache of it which would typically have Wren hunting down the delicious aroma.

With a groan of defeat Wren squeezed her eyes shut and attempted to breath slowly through her mouth in an attempt to ignore the nauseating scent that was only getting stronger.

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John ignored the shrill beeping of his microwave as he dug under the sink for one of the various first aid kits that he had stashed throughout his house, the hissing of the sink running above him filling the silence that was left behind from the now absent hum of the microwave.

First aid kit in hand John stood, deftly turning off the faucet and grabbing the bowl of cool water with his free hand, setting his quarry down on the counter as he turned and pulled several water bottles from the fridge. Quickly opening the first aid kit John grabbed a packet of Tylenol and quickly swallowed them, hopefully that would take care of his headache so that he could better care for the Deputy.

Looking around the kitchen for anything that he may have missed John quickly grabbed a large saucepot and a glass, adding them to his rapidly growing pile and, throwing one last fleeting glance towards his meal with an internal reminder to come back for his food later John left the kitchen.

Who on earth would have injected the Deputy of Hope County with Bliss? Injection was something that only Faiths… ‘Angels’ would do, and even then, they only did it to themselves.

Something about the Bliss would mess with the Angels minds, forcing them into a rather disturbing dependency on the Bliss. Angels either had to carry their own supply, be near a supply or inject the Bliss for longer trips, if they didn’t…

Well, and Angel coming down from Bliss was not pretty. In fact, it was always fatal to them…

It was no secret that Wren did not like the Bliss, in fact she tended to avoid the areas of the Henbane that were covered in it, preferring instead to tackle the areas here in Falls End or up North in the Whitetail Mountains. Whenever she had to take on a mission in the Henbane for Dutch she would go in, strike fast, and then get out again, never staying in the region for very long.

With a wry shake of his head John made his way towards the couch that Wren was resting on and sat himself down onto his coffee table, spreading his supplies out next to him. Wringing out the wet cloth John quickly got to work cleaning off the Deputies forehead of the sweat and grime that clung to her brow, it was going to be uncomfortable enough coming down off of the Bliss without the added discomfort of dried sweat and dirt.

Running the cloth down the side of her face John couldn’t help the small chuckle that left him as she leaned into his touch. Finishing with her face and throat John moved the blanket and moved down to her shoulders and arms, taking in with increasing anger the tell tale signs of a struggle, seeing that multiple hands had taken part in holding the Deputy down as they stuck a needle into her arm.

Now finished with the cloth John discarded it back into the bowl, grabbing the first aid kit so that he could bandage the raw skin of the injection site to try to prevent an infection.

Next John pulled off the Deputies boots, setting them on the floor beside the couch and rearranged the blanket around her.

Glancing at his remaining supplies John poured some water into the glass that he had grabbed, setting a packet of pain pills beside it and moved the saucepan onto the floor beside the Deputies head.

Throwing himself into the chair beside the couch John sighed and reached for his phone. He needed to inform Joseph of what had happened. This was going to be a long night.

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Wren felt like she had been in the mist for years, floating in a suspended sense of agony, knowing it was there and yet not truly comprehending it.

Brief flashes of memory; cold, pain, a burning feeling in her throat and the cold edge of a metal pan, concerned blue eyes, a warm weight on her cheek, all shrouded in mist and unclear.

Forcing her eyelids open Wren stifled a groan of pain as a ray of sunshine pierced her eye, causing a stabbing pain to shoot through her brain. Closing her eyes once again Wren instead began to take stock of her other senses, noting the comfortable cushions below her, the soft murmuring of voices coming from somewhere nearby, and, most importantly the scent of John Seed.

Of course, it wasn’t like she spent large amounts of time thinking about what he smells like or anything. It was just hard to forget the scent of such obviously expensive cologne, pine, sandalwood, and some sort of musk that all came together into a very attractive and calming aroma.

Wait… What?

Oh, her head hurt! What happened and how did she get here?

She remembered… Talking, she was mad about something, and then… A fight? Pain in her arm, and then running? But why would she run? Actually, the bigger question was why would she run here!?

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“I understand that Joseph but that doesn’t make any sense, if it wasn’t someone from the Project, then it had to have been a member of the Resistance. But why would they do that to the Deputy of all people?” John just couldn’t understand this. For three days now Joseph had been trying to find out who would have done this to the deputy as he had helped her suffer through an unnecessary detox.

“I know John, once she wakes up we will ask her, once we know they will suffer for what they have done, I promise you.” Josephs words as always were strong, full of his conviction, a conviction which helped to calm John down. With a sigh Joseph squeezed the back of his neck and brought their foreheads to rest against each other. John took a deep breath as he felt himself relaxing.

Pulling back with a soft smile John glanced through the doorway towards the Deputy once more, resisting the urge to smirk as he saw the Deputy sniffing at the air.

It looked like the Deputy was finally awake.

Jerking his chin toward the Deputy John began to make his way towards where the Deputy still lay.

“I’m glad to see that you are finally awake Deputy, now if you don’t mind, I do have a few questions.”

At being acknowledged the Deputies eyes opened, her head turning away from the light which streamed in from his windows. John was pleased to note that her pupils had receded to a more natural level, it looked like the worse was over with.

“Why are you helping me?” The Deputies voice was rough, which he had been expecting of course, what he hadn’t been expecting though was the lack of fight. The Deputy was tired, not just in body but in spirit as well. Well… John would just have to fix that, wouldn’t he?

“Because you asked me to,” John said simply as he sat down on his coffee table once again. “You came here for help, so I helped you.”

“Why!?” Ah, there’s her fire. Good, John was glad to see that it hadn’t been put out.

“Because we care about you Child,” Joseph said calmy, laying a hand on Johns shoulder as he took a seat beside him. Josephs words were like a balm to the soul, one of the many reasons that so many chose to follow his brother. You could hear someone else speak the same words in the same tone a million times but there was something that was only there when Joseph himself would say it.

“You don’t care about me,” The Deputy is angry again but this time it’s different. That fire, that Wrath, it wasn’t directed at them, it wasn’t even directed at her situation, no, they were directed at herself.

Suddenly Josephs words came back to him, the words that he had scoffed at, that he didn’t understand the reason for, suddenly made sense.

You have to love them, John. You have to love them, because sometimes they can’t love themselves…

John looked at Joseph then, understanding finally shining in his gaze as he truly understood Josephs path him. His brothers gaze stared back at him with pride shining deep within as a weight that John had never realized was there finally faded.

“We do care about you Deputy,” John said slowly as he reached out and covered her hand with his. “We care about you and what happens to you, because you’re worth it.”

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You’re worth it. Those words kept echoing within Wren’s mind as she stared into John Seeds eyes, those eyes which she had seen hold anger and sadness were now full of such honesty that Wren couldn’t help but believe him.

What did she have to lose in believing him anyway?

She could either go back and either be killed or continue to be used, or she could trust him, and either be killed, or gain something so much better than she could imagine…

“Wren,” She breathed, “If I’m going to trust you here, then you should probably use my name. It’s Wren.”

“Wren then,” John murmured, his eyes never leaving hers. “Tell us what happened, and we can help you. You just have to trust us.”

“I… I’m not completely sure, everything is still kind of hazy. But…” This was it, she thought looking down at where her hand was being covered by Johns, no going back now.

“Dutch,” With a deep breath Wren looked back into Johns eyes, the blue pools of his gaze comforting her, “Dutch was going on about how I needed to get over my aversion to the Bliss. He was saying that I needed to either gain a tolerance or to… Well, they held me down and forced the needle into my arm… Sharky came in and he had no idea what they were doing because he was pissed, he yelled something about the Angels and started pulling them off of me… A fight started an-and I couldn’t tell what was going on, everything was hazy, so I ran. I ran and kept running until I got here.”

By the end of her tale Wren could hardly breathe, the anger, pain, and betrayal that she felt coming out of her in large sobs. Everything that she had been fighting for and against in her life coming to a head now as she cried.

Vaguely Wren could feel strong arms surrounding her, and a warm hand running through her hair soothingly, a deep voice whispering assurances to her, promising to her that everything would be alright, that they would help her.

For the first time in a very long time, as Wren drifted off into an exhausted sleep, still cradled in those strong arms, Wren felt at peace…

#far cry 5 #john seed #joseph seed #bliss #sharky #angels #forced drug use #poor wren #deputy wren blake #this got out of control #trigger warning #how do you tag?

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tmtht · 6 years

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If you’ve read my blog or follow me on social media I’m sure you’ll have figured out that I love wildlife and nature. Little in life brings me as much enjoyment as being out in the countryside surrounded by nothing more than birdsong and animals. Photographing it is a bonus. It makes my day job almost bearable and if I had unlimited funds that would be gone in a heartbeat!

It therefore won’t come as a surprise to you that when Bob Smith of Nature Nuts told me about an off-grid cabin – The Hideaway on the Bamff Ecotourism Estate overlooking beaver ponds my interest was instantly piqued. I looked it up online and made a mental note to book for the summer.

Beavers have fascinated me for some time. One of my initial reasons for going to Aigas was the hope of seeing some of theirs, but even being in the hide for sunrise most mornings, and dusk too on all 3 visits I failed to see any at all. I then spent an evening with Bob and we had one very short sighting of a swimming beaver before it disappeared.

I read Jim Crumley’s excellent book on the return of the beavers (Nature’s Architects, The Beaver’s Return to Our Wild Landscapes – worth a read if you’re interested, Jim’s one of my favourite nature writers), and I’ve seen many programmes featuring them. The way they manage the land and create homes and living areas is awe-inspiring. Therefore the thought of spending a few nights watching these incredible animals seemed too good to be true! I chose early June because the nights are short and it worked out well. Only issue was the grass which was already quite high. If you’re thinking of visiting (based on personal experience and the visitor book) to see the beavers there’s no real point before May, as it’ll be too dark. But go much later than I did and the grass will obscure them out of the water (although you might see the kits which I was a little too early for).

I approached my stay in the cabin with a little trepidation. I stayed almost off-grid at The llicit Still cabin at Aigas which was a wonderful experience, but it was considerably larger and better equipped with everything other than refrigeration. I needn’t have worried though. Although definitely more basic this cabin was very comfortable. Small, yes, with kitchen facilities comprising only of a camping stove. No running water but there was solar electricity which powered lovely fairy lights, spotlights and 2 USB ports (the cabin description doesn’t mention those, so other than the fact I invested in a power-block for charging my phone in advance this was an added bonus). The bed, made out of beaver felled wood was super comfortable and there’s a wood-burning stove although it was so warm and muggy I had no need for this. There’s an outside (but enclosed and heated) shower and a short walk to a composting toilet. Fair to say my diet was appalling as I wasn’t entirely sure what I would be able to cook + no refrigeration is limiting, but I didn’t starve!

From the cabin there is the sound of many birds singing and calling. Some are easy on the ear, others (the pheasant) not so much.

Two treecreepers work the trees as well as various tits and a male great spotted woodpecker. Lovely to awaken to the sound of birdsong (and, not quite so lovely, buzzing beasties).

The cabin looks out on one of the beaver pools.

This family of beavers tend to base themselves at the top by the road where they have their lodge and have built a dam, or further down river where there are extensive, and recent, evidence of building works. I walked down there on the Saturday morning and was blown away by what they had achieved.

Equipment-wise I started off using my Nikon D610 with Nikkor 300mm F4 lens, but during the first evening switched to the Tamron 150-600mm. It’s a slower lens but has longer reach. From the Saturday morning onwards I used the Nikon D500 to give me even greater reach (max 900mm). This was a gamble as the D500 is not as good in low-light and paired with the Tamron was not the best for evening/early morning photography. However, I used a monopod and manual exposure trying to keep the ISO as low as possible (admittedly that often meant 5000!) and shutter down to 1/60 at times. Sharp images are still achievable if the animals are photographed when static – all lessons I learned whilst photographing pine martens at Aigas on the photography masterclass.

Friday evening I sat opposite the lodge and was treated to a couple of hours of, I think, two beavers. One it seems is the mother who will almost certainly have young kits in the lodge, so was patrolling the area, swimming round in circles, and a younger one who mostly grazed on the grass on the opposite bank. Wonderful to watch them so close. In the water they look a bit like teddy bears and on land like giant, flat tailed rats (they are members of the rodent family so that makes sense!)

Photographs of the grazing beaver were tricky due to the long grass and the fact it tended to eat with its back to the pools. But I took a few before the light faded.

I also saw an otter very briefly, but we spotted each other at the same moment and it disappeared.

It was amazing how close the beavers came sometimes. I don’t think they have particularly good eyesight, relying on their other senses so as long as I didn’t move suddenly or make too much noise they don’t seem to notice my presence. If they were in the water and startled they would dive down with a loud splash as they used their tail to warn others of possible danger. Other times they would just sink into the water without a sound and disappear for a while.

The following morning I was up at 4.30 and after checking out the window that the beavers were still active, returned to the same spot for an hour or so. They were doing pretty much exactly the same as the night before and I returned to bed for a bit.

I spent the day exploring the woods and paths surrounding the Hideaway. I searched in vain for red squirrels in the morning but did notice more ponds behind the cottage as I wandered through the woods and visited them a little later. Evidence of beavers here too. and a picturesque setting.

In the afternoon I walked along the path to the right of the cabin and crossed over a little bridge constructed of beaver wood. It was here I saw all the extensive workings I mentioned above. I walked along a path and saw my first red squirrel and came across a red deer hind grazing in a patch of deciduous woodland – I managed a few images before she noticed me. There were nesting birds – I saw a starling deliver food to a hole in a tree and heard the cries of her young, and also spotted a wren with caterpillars.

That evening I met up with Paul, one of the owners of the Estate, and a couple of other residents for a beaver walk. He took us down to the pools I’d found in the morning. The first animal we spotted though was an otter fishing in a small pond. Lovely to watch. We then found four beavers sitting a fair distance away grazing. Back at the local pools there were the regular two doing exactly what they’d done the night before. Once left to my own devices I walked down to the right of the cabin and in the fast-failing light watched one lone beaver tidying up the top of a dam but too dark for photographs.

Sunday morning I was up again at 4.30, and this time I walked round to the other ponds. I found three beavers swimming about and eating both onshore and in the water. At one point three came together for a grooming session. Frustratingly it was in quite tall grass so I only saw brief glimpses, but did take this little video.

I started to walk down to the far part of my local pools to see if any beavers were still at work but saw one heading back in the direction of the lodge, so followed it. It did a spot of grooming and rearranged some of the mud on the dam before retiring for the day.

After a few more hours in bed I went to Glenshee Ski Centre in the hope of finding the mountain hares and ptarmigan. To be honest I had little idea where to go, so just took the chairlift up to the top and wandered around. Although warm there were some very heavy rain showers and the mist came down so it wasn’t easy to locate anything. I saw 4 hares of various colours – one in full summer pelage, one pretty white and two somewhere in between. No ptarmigan though, although there were quite a few red grouse and I did see and photograph my first dotterel.

The drive to and from Glenshee awarded me with more sightings – both a brown hare and a red deer hind ran out infront of me and I kestrel hovered above a field. Life was just about perfect!

In the evening, surprise surprise, I went out to see the beavers again. Walking passed the lodge area I saw none, but obviously startled a beaver at the top end by the road as I heard an almighty splash! I walked round to the more distant pools, partly hoping to see the otter again, but no sign of it. The beavers were all quite distant so I walked back, passed the hideaway to the area with all the beaver-workings. I saw a beaver heading in that direction so settled down under a tree overlooking the area where I’d seen the beaver on the dam the night before. Paul and Louise appeared shortly after me and sat right at the edge of the water on a (I presume) beaver constructed bench, but after 10 beaverless minutes they left and I walked back a little bit closer to the riverbank. Suddenly I saw a large twig moving swiftly towards the river and stopped in my tracks. Sure enough the twig was attached to a beaver who swam into the water and spent about 15 minutes chomping on it. Light was relatively poor by now so I had the ISO up at 5000 and a shutter speed of 1/80 – 1/60. As on all occasions over the weekend I was using my monopod and I’m pleasantly surprised at how many sharp images I achieved!

Monday morning, again up at 4.30, I made a quick check of the same area but saw nothing so went round to the other pools. I only saw 2 (at any one time) beavers this morning, but great to watch.

Returning to the hideaway the adult female was doing her patrol around the pool and the very last beaver I saw was from the cabin window, returning from the lower pools. A perfect end to my beaver-spotting.

They really are amazing, fascinating animals and all credit to Paul and Louise for introducing them to the Estate and being such ambassadors for their return to the wild, where they belong. If you want to read more then I can recommend Jim’s book mentioned above, also the Scottish Wild Beaver Group website. Bob Smith of Nature Nuts does beaver guiding in the evenings and of course you could go stay with Bamff Ecotourism, even if you don’t fancy living off-grid like I did, they have regular self-catering accommodation and yurts, although you don’t have the added bonus of beavers out your window.

Monday I made a return visit to Bob Smith’s wildlife hide in the hope of seeing pine marten and red squirrels, but more of that in my next blog!

Bamff Beavers If you've read my blog or follow me on social media I'm sure you'll have figured out that I love wildlife and nature.

#bamff ecotourism #Beaver #behaviour #eurasian beaver #habitat #nature #nature nuts #nikon #Perthshire #scotland #Wildlife

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