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chitsangenthusiast · 3 years

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good afternoon i bring with me a (slightly rough) wip of zuko getting to see his daughter for the first time after she's born <3

(featuring some zuko teasing bc the gaang can't help it even at his daughter's birth, and sokka also getting to hold her!!)

—

She’s born in the middle of a scorching summer, under the gaze of a shining moon and on a bed covered in caribou-hare pelts.

Zuko knows when she’s arrived; he’s already crossed the length of the reception room by the time the clamor behind the separating screen abruptly cuts into a breathless silence, and his heart beats in expectation when Suki pokes her head out. She’s exhausted, she’s excited, and she’s dragging him in before he can even fathom any kind of thought.

He comes in just as the midwife finishes in clearing her nose and mouth, to reveal a tiny face and the full sound of his daughter’s fair wail.

Daughter.

Zuko stumbles.

A bubble of absolute glee spills from his mouth as he’s pushed into a chair next to the bed because, from here, he has an even better view. Poking out above her little arm is a head covered in a wet smattering of dark hair and already full eyebrows, with impossibly round cheeks showing off pouting lips and red gums while she cries. She’s loud, she’s announcing her presence, she’s so small.

Zuko chokes on an exhilarated gasp. That’s his daughter.

He reaches out, then falters. As he watches her settle into the soothing warmth of bare skin, all he wants is to fall forward to her, to tuck her into him and rest his hand on her small back to feel how she lifts the entirety of her body as he cries and breathesin her first moments. But he’s not sure who he can touch or even what he can touch on the bed, and he instead throws an absentmindedly desperate hand out to stop himself from grabbing at the furs as he works to remember how to properly take in air.

Someone grabs it—Sokka, he can tell by the calluses on his fingers—and directs it down. Instantly, instinctively, Zuko splays his fingers to cradle her head and strokes his thumb over his daughter’s ear.

His hand curls perfectly around her, and he chokes on another exhilarated sob.

“Katara—”

“She’s beautiful,” Katara immediately returns. Her eyes flit up to Zuko’s, just for a moment, before sliding back down to the baby resting on her stomach. She’s holding a tiny fist in her own hand, running tired fingers up and down a forearm, and she can’t look away either. She’s crying, Zuko realizes, tears just like his own, and she shakes out little relieved sniffles when he and Sokka quickly clasp her heaving shoulders. Katara’s head falls back to the pillows—from the exhaustion, from the relief of their touch, from those strong, healthy cries—and her hand joins Zuko’s on his daughter’s head as she lets out a breathless laugh. “Oh wow, she’s really perfect, Zuko.”

“Thank you,” he gasps out, and then no other words come. His face is a reservoir of open gratitude even when he can’t get anything else out, he knows Katara understands him when she lightly runs a thumb against his hand in response to his spasming grip on her shoulder.

Thank you.

Aang is let in shortly after, buzzing out of his body as he rushes to Katara’s side, with Azula jumping at the chance to barrel inside too. He’s been through this before with Bumi, but his hands still shake slightly as he cups her face and leans down to kiss her forehead with a long, deep inhale. Katara reaches out a free hand to hold onto him, and just smiles at the comfort of his happiness.

Her other hand is still in Zuko’s grasp. He hasn’t been able to bring himself to let go just yet, even after moving to the other side of the bed so that his good ear could better pick up her murmuring, or after her careful transfer of his daughter into his his bare arms, and now together they hold onto an exposed arm left out of the blanket.

Snatches of conversation happen around him, slight jostling occurs as everyone works on the after care, but Zuko is captivated only by the bundle in his arms. Their eyes are locked—she looks up at Zuko, and he stares right back. When Katara has to let go, he takes over to admire his daughter with his thumb, tracing it across her plump jawline, smoothing down the soft hair on her head and over her eyebrows.

Toward the end of the pregnancy, when Aang and Katara came to stay at the palace to prepare, Zuko used to sometimes stare at her. It was hard, trying to imagine what a child between them would look like, and a niggling thought that circled in the back of his mind—quietly, in a determined attempt to not let it fester too much—had him wishing, hoping that his daughter would have more of Katara in her than him. Beyond possibly gold-tinted eyes, what worth did his ancestry have to offer in the face of so much goodness from Katara’s?

(He got scolded for ruminating over this, then given an extremely long hug, and then scolded again for his incessant doting over a Katara who did not need to be doted over, much to Aang’s cackling amusement and Zuko’s embarrassed chagrin.)

But his daughter looks so much like him, and in such a breathtakingly sweet way that leaves him stunned. He can see the small flicks of her eyes moving as they roam over his face; they’re so light in color, tawny almost like how Azula’s were when she was born, and he wonders if they’ll be bright like his or darken into a strong amber like Uncle’s. She also has his nose, a wide little thing that he can’t help but bop a finger against, and her cheeks may be big but Zuko thinks she has his chin.

“It’s crazy how alert she already is,” Aang says, smiling as he peeks down at her across the bed. “I hope her cries get louder though, she needs those firebender lungs so she can shout like you can, Zuko.”

“Don’t do that to me,” Azula instantly scoffs, taking her place next to her brother, then smirks at his lukewarm glare. “I can only handle one loudmouth at a time, and Zuzu is plenty already.”

“Hey—”

Sokka snorts, and responds faster than Zuko can continue. “Well, when she’s right, she’s right.”

Suki overtakes their snickering with a bright burst of laughter, and his daughter’s head rolls toward the noise. “I thought blessings for babies by airbenders were supposed to be good-natured?”

“Oh, sure,” Aang laughs as he takes a cool cloth from her to wipe at Katara’s neck. “She will have a loving heart, an inquisitive mind, and a steadfast head on her shoulders that will push her through anything she sets herself to achieve. But I also hope she gets a set of good strong lungs, just so Zuko can see what we’ve put up with over the years.”

“Can you all be nice to me for five seconds,” Zuko grumps lightly. “I’m literally holding my child right now.”

“I think Aang’s gonna be right too,” Sokka happily jumps back in, dropping a heavy hand on Zuko’s shoulder as he leans over him to coo into her space. “She’s already got his frown.”

“Sokka!” Katara chides, but her laughter is still the loudest above everyone else’s at the falsely disgruntled scowl they receive—which is indeed replicated perfectly on that little face. “You know you can’t say things like that, or she’s going to end up looking like you!”

Sokka just chuckles, and the happy sound thrums through Zuko’s nerves. He’s pulled back already, giving him room to curl around his daughter like she’ll be able to protect him from the teasing—and Zuko forcibly swallows down the heavy desire to pull him back in.

“If that happens, it’ll only be because we look like, Katara.”

“Alright, move over punks!” Toph is as gleefully brash as ever when she steps into room with Lin on her hip and Iroh following close behind her, but Zuko can see the excitement lighting up her face as she beelines over. “Stop hogging the kid!”

Suki makes quick work to take Lin from her while Aang moves to pull Bumi from Iroh’s arms, and the four of them maneuver themselves onto the bed around Katara. She grouses lightly, but still looks incredibly contented to now have her son within arm’s reach. Iroh moves to take up residence on Zuko’s free side next to Sokka, and rests his hand on Zuko’s other shoulder.

“Oh, nephew,” he breathes out in deep admiration, and Zuko can feel his elation all the way down to his bones. “What a remarkable little beauty you have there.”

“Do you want to hold her?” he asks, after Iroh has showered Katara with a slew of his own sincere appreciation. Katara shies a little at the praise, but her smile remains firm even as her eyes droop slightly, and Zuko has a feeling Aang may soon kick them all out into another room to let her sleep.

Iroh’s steady joy though is infectious, and the room alights with an even more blanketing warmth from it. He reaches out eagerly to gingerly take her into his arms, and his eyes shine as he coos down at his granddaughter.

“Welcome to the world, little one,” Iroh hums, “There are great things in store for you here, just you wait and see.”

Azula gets to hold her next. Not for as long as their uncle, too nervous to hold something so tiny yet also noticeably too unwilling to give her up, and Zuko feels his eyes start to prick as sheer happiness crashes over him at the sight.

Sokka is the third one, composure fully cracked and delighted tears flowing as he wetly hiccups between stunned laughter.

“What an awesome little kid,” he says, his watery grin is as wide as his eyes. He then carefully cradles one of her hands into his palm, and welcomes her with a gentle handshake.

“Hello, Izumi,” he murmurs, and Zuko’s heart sings. “It’s so good to finally see you.”

Zuko doesn’t have anything to say in response, burstingly overwhelmed.

Instead, he quietly marvels at how well Izumi fits into his arms as he brushes a finger over one of her eyebrows. He glances up, to commit to memory the full picture of them together—their eyes catch, and his breath hitches at the deep adoration he spies in those blue eyes.

Sokka shakes himself a beat later, and looks back down at Izumi with a blazing grin.

“Man, you really do look just like your dad, don’t you, little princess?”

She does, but she undeniably has pieces of Katara in her too. Her complexion is slightly darker, and there’s already a slight wave to her hair that Zuko idly traces in amazement. He’s somewhat certain she has Katara’s lips too, and she hasn’t smiled yet but the thought that she could also end up with that same spirited smile makes his chest ache in private joy. It’s thrilling, the notion that even when his friend isn’t around, Zuko will still be able to see her signature grin light up the Fire Nation.

Zuko glances back up while Sokka continues to look down at his daughter.

He allows himself a moment to stare.

And carefully, very carefully, he thinks about how Katara and Sokka have the same smile.

#dadka #this is a planned scene of a twoshot that i'm hoping to get up soon bc i just want it done lol #(that i've......been workin on since octobor riprippp)#((also sorry for completely dropping the ball on everything else i had promised for today! i uhhhhh did not get them done lmao rip))#did i disappear so i could crunch this out before i go antiquing? yes lmao #did i queue a bunch of dad zukka and izumi art for today? also yes lol #welcome to my birthday we're celebrating dad zukka and izumi in this house today!!!!#wipwed #wip wednesday #own post #my writing #long #long post

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rwbyvein · 3 years

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Firen Lhain: Chapter 602: Prismatic Confessions: Part III/III

Blake sat on one of the beds in her room, Ilia sitting across from her on the other.

"I guess... I should explain..." Blake voiced, and Ilia just looked at her nervously. "Yang was my partner back in Beacon."

"Like... Adam?.." Ilia asked.

"I was SO afraid she would turn out like Adam, but Adam is not freedom, not independence, not even power or justice, he - is - spite. Yang is strength. She doesn't really know what to do with it, but... she's - not - out - to - destroy - the world. I kept her at arms length for the longest time... and... I can't believe I said that."

"Blake?.." Ilia quietly voiced.

"Adam," Blake said, fighting back tears, "cut off - her arm." Ilia did a double take before looking back at Blake. "But, apparently that wasn't enough to stop Yang." Blake shook her head, causing the tears to fall away, and developed weird smile on her lips. She then wiped her eyes. "Next we have Weiss, the... former... heir... to the Schnee Dust Corporation."

Ilia developed a terrified look. "She?.."

"Was disinherited for trying to help the people of Remnant. She became a Huntress so her father, who married into the family, wouldn't be the one to define the family name. As you might imagine..." Blake said with a bright smile, "we did not - get along - that well - at first. We learned to trust each other, love each other. Next is Ruby, who is," Blake said, and paused, "hope incarnate. She's the reason the rest of the team, the reason everyone, got back together. Just being around her makes me hopeful we can succeed."

"And... the buck?.." Ilia asked.

"He prefers hart, through he's actually a Caribou." Blake warmly said to her, "He's the warmest, gentlest warrior I've ever met."

"He did not feel..." Ilia tried to say.

"He didn't hurt you." Blake voiced, "I've seen him strip Yang's considerable Aura with a single punch." Ilia looked at her with wide eyes. "You can't tell me it didn't feel warm being carried by him."

"Even if I was being carried under his arm?" Ilia asked.

"Whom are you trying to convince?" Blake asked her, and Ilia stared into nothing for a moment.

"Wh... why... are you telling me this?" Ilia asked.

"Because," Blake voiced, "if you join us, it wouldn't be as my girlfriend... but you will still need to know how I feel about everyone here."

Ilia looked off into nothingness as she thought this over.

* * *

Blake walked down the stairs, only to step into the sisters shouting at each other. She didn't hear what Ruby had originally said.

"Chill, sis!" Yang shouted, "Everyone knows I've got it going on."

"But!" Ruby tried to say.

"But what, Sis?" Yang asked.

"I mean..." Ruby voiced.

Blake looked around inside, not seeing Jaune anywhere. It wasn't until she looked out on the patio that she found him. She walked out to the patio, closing the door behind her. Jaune turned his head briefly to see who it was before looking back over the night.

"I hope I'm not disturbing you." Blake nervously stated.

"A lot of things happened today," Jaune voiced, "but I wouldn't say disturbed is one of them."

"I'm not bothering you, am I?" she asked, as she nervously walked up to him.

"I honestly don't know." he said, and the two stared out into the darkness. "Just... so much happened today. It doesn't seem real. Does it?" he asked, and turned to her.

She nervously tried to look at him, but had to look back out into the darkness. Jaune turned to join her. "It, "she voiced, "makes far more sense than it really should."

"It, what?.." Jaune asked. "We can't... can we?.. I mean..."

"I mean," Blake said, and moved slightly towards him, "it makes more sense than it should." Blake took another step towards him, and then another snuggling up to him. He shook with a start for a moment and then continued staring into the darkness. He moved his arm around Blake, hovering over her shoulder, unsure of what to do. She grabbed his hand and pulled his arm around her. "You've never been shy, before." she voiced.

"It's never meant this much before." Jaune voiced. "You girls were always so unattainable. The most I thought I could expect was friendship. And you, along with my team, are the best friends I've ever had. I just... never... thought..."

"Never thought, what?" Yang asked as she walked over. "I've seen the way you look at us."

Jaune turned just enough to look back at her, trying not to disturb Blake, "With... respect..."

"Well... yeah..." Yang voiced, "but a little somethin' else. I've seen your eyes wonder, if you know what I'm saying." And Jaune sighed in reply.

"Okay, yes, you're all so amazingly beautiful." he stated.

"And apparently last night it was a cat burglar, as she decided to jump to the front of the line."

"I just... needed... someone..." Blake voiced.

"I could have..." Yang tried to say.

"You were having a... talk..." Blake voiced, "with your sister."

"Is there?.." Jaune voiced, "Actually a line, or?.."

With this Yang sighed. "Sorry." she voiced, as she walked up to Jaune's free side. When he didn't react she spoke up. "You've got two hands, and I expect you to use them." Jaune quickly wrapped his arm around Yang's shoulder. "So, we didn't want to fight about this, but this is my play. I'm a babe, and you certainly know that. I've caught you staring."

Yang squeezed Jaune and then slipped out of his arm, before returning to the house, Jaune's head following her before looking back at Blake..

"And?" Jaune asked, "this is yours?"

"Two Faunus," she said with a pause, "with eye-shine, staring out into the night?" Blake asked, "How could it not?"

"Exactly." Jaune said with a smile.

* * *

Jaune and Blake stepped inside, when a burst of rose petals appeared in front of them. "Okay!" Ruby shouted.

"Ruby?" Jaune asked, and Blake respectfully stepped away.

"So, Yang-and-Blake-made-their-move-and-I-want-to-make-my-move-but-I-really-don't-know-what-but-just-know-that-you're-the-first-one-to-talk-to-me-and-I-don't-think-I-could-live-without-you-and-I-wanted-to-thank-you-for-coming-with-me-and-I..."

"Easy, Ruby." Jaune stated.

"but?.." Ruby tried to ask.

"I don't think I could live without you, either." Jaune grumbled, "Which is one of the reasons this is so... difficult..."

Weiss cleared her throat, and Jaune looked over to her. Weiss had a light blue flush, and hands tented in front of her face; when she dropped them he saw a smile, "I do believe it is my turn." Jaune gave her a nervous smile.

"Is this going to be fancy?" Jaune asked, and Weiss nervously looked down and around, anywhere but at him. Ruby turned to leave but Jaune quickly pulled her into a powerful hug. He then kissed her on the head, let her go, and turned back to Weiss.

"I suppose?" Weiss teppidly asked, "candour is in order." She nervously looked up into his eyes. She breathed in deep for a moment. "Yes?" she nervously asked, and he lightly sighed.

"Remember, I want to spend time with you." Jaune stated, and Aurora appeared behind Weiss.

"As I expected." Aurora said, and Weiss jumped. She turned to glare at her. "I have made alternate arrangements."

"Aurora!" Weiss admonished her, and then breathed in deep, "And they are?"

"Not quite as fancy," Aurora voiced, "as he says, but a lot more private."

Weiss then looked at Jaune. "Well, he does seem to enjoy the idea..." She then turned to Aurora, "Very well. Dress will be?"

"Formal." Aurora said, and Weiss looked expectantly at Jaune.

"I... uh... walked here... with the clothing on my back." Jaune voiced.

"We could..." Weiss tried to say.

"After poking the dragon's den... queen... bitch..." Jaune voiced, "I would rather NOT be without my armour.

"Huntsmen are normally except from formal dress requirements," Aurora stated, "unless they are... well... Qrow..."

"You got a problem?" Qrow asked, and Aurora brushed her chin as she looked at him. "What, you don't like my beard?"

"That - "Aurora voiced, "is not - a beard."

Weiss looked at her incensed until Qrow just started laughing out loud. He then stood up and looked her in the eyes, "I like you." he said, and Aurora nervously looked away. "Oh, man, she's a keeper, Weiss."

"I will take your accolades into consideration," Weiss replied, "though, so far, she has been fantastic."

* * *

Weiss and Jaune walked along the street, side-by-side as they followed behind Aurora. "So, tell me?.." Weiss nervously asked, "Did you truly walk across two continents with but one set of clothes?"

"Well," Jaune voiced, "I did bring spare socks and underwear."

"And... who has been cleaning it?.." Weiss asked.

"The laundry fairy." Jaune stated.

Weiss smiled for a moment, "I doubt you mean that seriously."

"I think it's Ren," Jaune stated, "though I'm not sure, but Ren seems like the most likely candidate."

"Are you?.. serious?.." Weiss asked him.

"100%," Jaune replied, "swear to the good god. My clothes were always clean by the time I was done bathing."

"You - bathed?," Weiss asked, "Out in the open?.."

"Ruby and Nora always turn around, and Pyrrha was the same way."

"And I suppose you were just as much of a gentleman?" Weiss asked.

"Of course." Jaune said. "Trust is incredibly important."

"And as a former noble, you have your honour to think of." Weiss said, and Jaune sighed. "I'm sorry, I did not mean..."

"No..." Jaune voiced. "Whether that's why, or not, I try to always mean what I say."

"Your earnestness is infectious." Weiss replied. "Just please stay your charming self, and not the one I first met."

"Uh... yeah..." Jaune said, and then let out awkward laughter. "I was pretty terrible." he added, and Weiss giggled.

"Looking back on it, it's almost a fond memory, but... yes... you were. I much prefer this charming gentleman."

"Hardly... gentle..." Jaune voiced.

"You can be a bit of a lummox, but you are always genuine, always wanting to help. Too bad it took being a bird locked in a cage to make me realize it."

"I kind of find that hard to believe." Jaune voiced.

"Oh?" Weiss asked.

"Being in a bird cage and not trying to pick the lock or something?" Jaune.

"I tried to find lawyers to take my case, but the only ones I knew were the family lawyers."

"Ah..." Jaune voiced.

"They were right in that it was a conflict of interest." Weiss voiced.

"So?," Jaune asked, "then what did you do?"

"Hire Aurora." Weiss said, and made a thrusting movement with an invisible rapier, "And had her offshore my savings so I could be supported once I escape."

* * *

Weiss and Jaune sat on a table on a balcony, overlooking the night as a sommelier poured their wine.

* * *

Aurora opened the door to the house and walked inside, stepping aside so that Jaune could walk in arm-in-arm with Weiss. A burst of rose petals appeared in front of them.

"How was your wine tasting?" Ruby eagerly asked, trying her best not to be judgemental, or jealous, or at least less socially awkward than she usually was.

Jaune stepped forward to kiss her on her lips. Ruby turned pale(r) and nearly fainted.

"I suppose we can blame that on the wine." Weiss said with a smile, and then stepped forward to do the same. This time Ruby's knees did buckle, and luckily Jaune was ready to catch her. He picked her up like a princess and walked her over to the couch. He gently put her down, and stood up, staring at her. He dropped his hand and cupped her face before gently stroking her hair.

"Shit," Yang said, "you don't take any prisoners."

"You have your," Jaune said, and thought, "bodacious play. Blake had her quiet, Weiss her company. I had to give Ruby something."

"And ice queen?" Yang asked.

"My plan is to blame it on the wine." Weiss said with a bright smile.

#rwby #firen lhain #faunus au #pollinated knight #jaune arc #ruby rose #weiss schnee #blake belladonna #yang xiao long

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caelum-in-the-avatarverse · 4 years

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Written for Kataang Week 2020. Prompt - Keeping Warm.

There’s a blizzard at the South Pole, and the Water Tribe has traditions.

~~~

Hi guys! So after doing Azula Week earlier this month I was like "Oh yeah I feel like I could manage Kataang Week too!" so this is that. We'll see how it goes. Fair warning - I am not much of a shipper. I do like Kataang, a lot, but writing romance is kinda...eh. So expect me to use this week more as an excuse for character exploration and worldbuilding than actual shipfic, lol. You have no idea how many times I started to write “oral tradition” in and then had to slap my wrist like NO this is a SHIPPING WEEK and if you use that phrase people will assume it’s mature and then be disappointed when it isn’t. XD

Warnings: There's nothing explicit going on here, but we do hear about a past animal attack and said animal's death.

Enjoy!

~~~

Something heavy, furry, and large was dumped over Aang’s head, and he sputtered and laughed and breathed in the scent of well-conditioned animal hide even as he extricated himself from the massive fur pelt. “Katara, come on, you know I don’t get cold!”

Katara lifted a corner of the fur, flopped down beside him, and flipped the fur back over herself. “It’s a blizzard. Humor me,” she said, eyes sparkling in the light of the fireplace.

“You know I can easily enjoy a snowstorm in nothing but a cape.”

“Blizzard, not snowstorm,” she said, snuggling up beside him. “I don’t care about your Airbender temperature-regulation abilities, that’s a South Pole blizzard out there. It’s going to get cold by my standards.”

“I survived a North Pole blizzard without any extra layers just fine,” Aang chuckled.

“That wasn’t a blizzard, that was a regular old flurry, and you were running on adrenaline,” Katara said, snuggling up to his side. “The city was under siege, you were talking to a spirit that wanted to steal your face, Zuko had captured you again… Besides,” she added, grinning up at him, “this is cozy. And it’s my favorite blanket, so you should feel honored that I’m feeling gracious enough to share it with you.”

Aang laughed. “Okay, okay, you win.” He wrapped one arm around her. The other he poked out of their warm cocoon to examine the fur she’d wrapped them in. He was always going to be put off by the idea of dead animal skin, but the poles boasted harsh climates that the Water Tribe had perfected living in, and no other material held heat as well as fur did. This one was completely white, the hair coarse but well-cared for, and it was huge. Whatever animal it came from, it had to be enormous. “What is this, anyway?”

“Polar bear-dog,” Hakoda said. He was seated on the floor on the other side of the fireplace, also wrapped in a fur. In his hands he held a piece of whale-walrus tusk, which he carefully examined while a set of carving tools sat nearby, waiting. Kanna sat beside him, closer to the fire, keeping an eye on the labrador tea she was brewing.

“What?” Aang said, looking at the fur with new interest. “I thought you guys said they were too dangerous to hunt!”

“They are,” Bato said. He was sitting near Hakoda, removing a broken handle from a knife that needed fixing. “That one was hunting us.”

Aang stroked the fur - the closest he’d ever gotten to petting an actual polar bear-dog. Well. It was an actual polar bear-dog, just. Dead. Which didn’t count. Aang had never met a large animal he didn’t want to ride in his life, and his list of accomplishments included hog-monkeys, the unagi, and Zuko’s dragon, but everyone he’d ever spoken to in the Southern Water Tribe - and also everyone he hadn’t - agreed that he should, under no circumstances, ever attempt to ride a polar bear-dog, and had made a point of telling him so. Multiple times.

Of course he fully intended to try it anyway. What was the worst that could happen?

“So what happened?” he asked. Katara was still curled into his side, and he rested his head on top of hers and waited for the story. The Southern Water Tribe loved a good story, and they had so many of them - so much of their history was passed down in speech, not writing. And that was only partially because of the war - the Fire Nation may have destroyed much of the Southern Tribe’s culture with their attacks, but they’d been passing down their history from generation to generation long before they’d bothered with paper or a writing system. That strong oral tradition had saved so much knowledge that might have been lost otherwise. Now that they had a permanent settlement again, with enough room and resources for record keeping, they were writing things down again, trying to make the knowledge more accessible.

But nothing, Katara insisted, could beat a good story told by loved ones gathered around the fire. And blizzards, she said, were when the tribe hunkered down and enjoyed each other’s company, passing the time by telling stories, or creating art, or sharing food, or fixing things. The wind might howl outside, the snow might pile up, but you were safe and warm inside with your tribe, your family, and everyone would tell stories to help pass the time.

The wind wasn’t howling outside yet, but it would soon. One of the last things Aang and Katara had done before hunkering down for the storm was take Appa out for a flight. The sky outside was overcast, so they’d flown up, up, up until they’d broken through the clouds and seen blue again. The sky had been a sea of clouds for as far as the eye could see, freezing cold and just waiting to drop snow on the South Pole.

Hakoda hummed and raised his head from the ivory in his hand to look at Bato. “This was decades ago. We were just little kids.”

“Little enough to get snatched up by a polar bear-dog and eaten in three bites,” Bato agreed, removing the last piece of broken knife handle and examining the tang. “When it started prowling around the village that winter, our parents didn’t let us step foot outside alone.”

“It was terrifying,” Kanna joined in. “It’d been a harsh winter. It was bitterly cold, and snowed often, and the animals were getting desperate. The caribou-bison herds were either freezing to death or migrating elsewhere, and the predators were having a hard time finding food. Normally polar bear-dogs prefer to stay in the deep tundra or out on the ice floes, far away from humans, but this one was hungry that winter.” She picked up the teapot and started pouring the tea into waiting cups.

“It prowled around the village for a week,” Hakoda said.

“One of the scariest weeks of my life,” Kanna said. “You were a rambunctious child and you didn’t like being cooped up inside. Your father and I worried you’d wander out the gate and get eaten.”

“I remember seeing its pawprints in the snow,” said Bato. He had two halves of a piece of caribou-bison antler in his hand, already carved into the shape of a handle, and he was fitting them around the knife tang. “It’d circle the village, waiting for its chance. And it would howl.”

Hakoda shuddered. “I remember the howling,” he agreed. “That was awful. You’d be trying to sleep, and all of a sudden that howl would start, and you didn’t feel safe anymore.”

“We had a wall,” Kanna explained to Aang, handing him two cups of labrador tea. He passed the second to Katara. “Not much of one, our Waterbenders had been lost for years at that point. But we did have a snow wall, and we were able to maintain it, and someone was always on watch to scare the beast away when it tried to dig through.”

“Why didn’t it just attack?” Aang asked. He held the teacup beneath his nose for a moment to enjoy the piney, floral scent. Then he used some subtle airbending to manipulate the temperature a few degrees cooler and had a sip. Katara wordlessly held her own cup out, and Aang grinned and repeated the trick for her. She pressed a kiss to his cheek before enjoying her drink.

“It was starving. Weak,” Kanna said, handing another two teacups to Hakoda. “It was looking for an easy meal, not a fight.”

“It almost killed my aunt,” Bato said, putting the knife down to accept the cup Hakoda passed to him. “She went out to get some fresh snow for water, and it almost got her.”

“We decided enough was enough,” Kanna said. Her hands were wrapped around her own teacup now, for the warmth. “We’d hoped it would go away by itself when it saw we wouldn’t be easy prey, but we were its only prey. It wasn’t going to leave. So we had to do something.”

Aang nodded, holding back a grimace. His people would never have killed anything if they could help it, but his people could also take their bison herds and fly away from whatever leopard-wolves or jackal-lynxes were stalking them. Life in the Water Tribe was different, as was being hunted by a desperate, determined predator you couldn’t escape. He could respect that.

“One of our most experienced fighters at the time was our former chief, Akkikitok,” Kanna said. “She’d retired a few years before, but even though she was no longer our chief she was still a respected elder and leader. She always put so much thought into the safety and wellbeing of our people.”

“Who was your chief then, if she’d retired and Hakoda was a little kid?” Aang asked.

“My mother’s father,” Katara said.

“Chief Oomailiq,” Hakoda said with a fond smile. “I learned a lot from him.”

“He got re-elected so many times,” Katara told Aang proudly.

He chuckled. “Leadership skills run in the family, huh?”

Katara’s grin was fierce.

“We decided we had to do something to protect the village,” Kanna continued the story. “So the next time the polar bear-dog came to the village’s wall, Akkikitok took her spear and her club and went out to either chase it off or fight it.” She grimaced. “She wound up fighting it.”

“Not alone, though,” Aang said, because the Water Tribe never did anything alone.

“Of course not. Our best fighters went out to support her. But she kept the animal’s attention focused on her, and she suffered many wounds before she struck the killing blow.” Kanna sighed. “She didn’t live long after the fight, but she died knowing she’d saved the village, and she considered it a good ending.”

“And that’s why you’re never allowed to ride a polar bear-dog,” Katara said, removing one hand from her teacup to poke Aang.

“Hey,” he laughed. His fingers twiddled with the white fur as he considered the story he’d just been told.

“We kept the fur, of course,” Kanna said. “We considered cutting it up to use in the tribe’s hoods, so everyone could have a piece of Akkikitok’s sacrifice. But it was decided the pelt was too precious - we very rarely kill polar bear-dogs, after all. So it was kept in one piece, and we are grateful for the warmth and comfort it’s provided us over the years.”

Air Nomads held all life as sacred. Aang found it so very comforting that the Water Tribe did too, just...in a different way. Meat was a necessary food group at the poles, furs necessary to keep from freezing to death. But the Water Tribe never took more than they needed, and every animal killed for the tribe was honored and thanked for its sacrifice.

This one had actively tried to harm the tribe, but it was still treated with respect even after death.

“So you use it as a blanket now?” Aang laughed.

Kanna smiled. “Yes, well, we’re practical.” The Southern Water Tribe hadn’t had room for anything frivolous until very recently. Their traditional lifestyle didn’t lend itself well to extraneous possessions to begin with, but decades of running and hiding from the Fire Nation hadn’t helped either.

Hakoda straightened a bit. “Oh,” he said, “we could display it now, though. In town hall.”

Kanna blinked. “Oh,” she said. “We could.” They were all still getting used to the idea of having a centralized government, of having permanent towns again.

“It’d be a good place for everyone to see the tribe’s history,” Bato mused. “Including foreign dignitaries.”

“See how important our history still is to us,” Hakoda nodded. He looked back at the piece of ivory he hadn’t figured out what to do with yet. “I’ve been considering art displays as well, but that fur is a direct tie to a beloved chief. It’s a good idea.”

Katara watched them all with a flat expression. “I know what story I’m going to tell our children years from now, Aang.”

Aang felt a flutter in his stomach at the thought of him and Katara having children. “Yeah?”

“This is the story of how I lost my favorite blanket to a museum display.”

Aang burst out laughing.

“It’s for a good cause, Katara!” Hakoda protested, grinning.

Katara pulled the fur pelt even closer around herself and Aang. “One last time, old friend,” she muttered into the hide.

“I’ll get you a new blanket,” Aang promised. “Bison fur can be really warm, and Appa definitely sheds enough for a blanket.”

“Not the same,” Katara huffed. She poked him again. “Your turn. Tell us a story.”

Aang blinked, and then he noticed that Kanna, Hakoda, and Bato were all looking at him expectantly. “Oh,” he said. “Okay. Uh…” He trailed off, thinking. He had lots of stories to share, from before, during, and after the war; it was just a matter of picking which one he felt like telling. Something funny, he thought, after the serious one they’d just told. And something new, which might be tricky - Katara had lived through so many stories with Aang, after all, and her family were already aware of a lot of them. But they’d just shared a piece of their tribe’s history with him - it would only be right to share something of his.

Which meant something from before the iceberg. Before the war.

Talking about his people could be hard. He still did it - the Air Acolytes had questions, and he had to explain his philosophy to so many world leaders who just didn’t understand. He tried to keep it abstract, matter-of-fact, but it always hurt, even if only a little.

And oftentimes a lot. There was a distressing number of people who thought that the Air Nomads’ extinction was proof that their beliefs had no value. That there was no room in the world to bring that way of life back, nor any point to it even if the Air Acolytes managed it. It made Aang want to be careful about who he shared something as precious as his people’s memory with.

But the Southern Water Tribe were survivors of the second-worst genocide the world had ever seen. If there was anyone Aang knew would understand - anyone he could feel comfortable talking about his own people and his loss with - it was them.

With that in mind, he recalled an old memory and smiled. “Alright, so back when I was like - seven? eight? - Monk Gyatso and I visited the Western Air Temple. Now there was this nun who lived there, Sister Aditi, and she had this way with animals…”

~~~

Thanks for reading! Kudos and comments are always appreciated. :D

I’ve always loved how Aang and Katara’s cultures are super different, yet super similar. Air Nomads were vegetarians, while the Water Tribe diet would, by necessity, focus on meat. Both cultures regard life as sacred, though - Air Nomads could just afford to be vegetarian and thus didn’t hunt, while the Water Tribe hunts to survive but also respects the sacrifice of the animals they kill. (I mean I guess that’s not in canon but they’re based on Inuit/Yupik/Native American cultures so we can infer.) Both cultures appear to live pretty sustainably. Annnnd they’ve both suffered a lot from the war. :( The idea of Katara and Aang supporting each other through the rebuilding of their cultures means a lot to me.

Aang is probably never going to fully appreciate a nice fur like Katara, but he does appreciate how important it is to her culture and her people's way of life. I really like how in the show, neither Aang nor the Water Tribe kids ever rag on each other for their diets. Sokka talks a lot about how much HE eats meat, but he never tells Aang to eat it, nor does Aang tell Sokka he should go vegetarian. They just respect each other. (There is that one time they go to a meat place in the Fire Nation but they were also trying to blend in and they let Aang bow out without comment so I'll let it pass.)

The story of former chief Akkikitok taking down a polar bear-dog and also Kya's father Oomailiq being another chief (and Hakoda's mentor) are things I first wrote about in my fic Early Birds, but I thought it'd be nice to elaborate here. As far as I can tell, Akkikiktok is Inuit and means "costs little" (cuz I didn't wanna spend forever finding her name lol), and Oomailiq is Inuit for "leader of the boat, whaling captain", friendly reminder that it's tricky verifying Native names on baby name lists so I can't guarantee that.

Sister Aditi is an Air Nomad OC of mine who I keep meaning to bring in but never have the chance to (she was literally supposed to be in the next chapter of Vintage Gaang, which I haven't updated since 2009). Her name was 100% chosen to mimic noted animal lover and spiritual man St Francis of Assissi. I swear I will use her properly in a fic someday. XD

#kataang week #atla fanfic #avatar fanfiction #aang #katara #caelum writes

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danwhobrowses · 4 years

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One Piece: Mini-Theory Mashups (Part 3, Wano Edition)

So, I’m bored XD And it’s been almost 8 months since Part 2, so why not do another theory dump huh? Before we were at 958 and since then 26 Chapters and a Pandemic have happened, so that has been plenty of time to theorycraft some new stuff, this one being all specific to the Wano arc and potential aftermaths from it.

Part 1 -> Here Part 2 -> Here None have been confirmed so far, but I still believe all of these can happen, but onto the newer stuff

Spoilers leading up to Chapter 984, just so you know

Hawkins Joins the Marines or Big Mom

So, yes, I still think Hawkins is alive, you can fight me on that all you like! And I would love for Hawkins to be on Luffy’s side 100%, for the notion of him being a man of chances and Luffy just trampling all over that so he can also experience Law’s eternal headache. But in reality I think it’s doubtful, we do still underestimate the full extent of his strength, and why he went out to sea is still a mystery, but knowing what we know of Hawkins I don’t think he could handle the energy that emit from the Straw Hats for long periods of time. The flaw he also has is that he never takes unnecessary risks, which is why he’s a Headliner for Kaido despite hating it. But, if Kaido’s defeated then what is left for him? I don’t think he can be direct opposition for Luffy to be King, he was already jumped by Law (despite proving his tactical skills) so he would have to find a safer situation for him and his crew, and for me that’s either the Navy or Big Mom. For the Navy it comes down to any solidarity he has with X Drake, the SWORD infiltrator seems to get along well with his Worst Gen member at the least, and Hawkins hasn’t said anything bad about him, maybe he does pull a Jango and become an interrogator. I would see him more on Big Mom’s side though, like Hawkins BM likes to plan out her actions so the conclusion is inevitable, they are both overly patient in a way so their strategies fit, also being a Straw Man would entice Big Mom’s collecting nature. This way if BM’s crew does become a begrudging ally with the Straw Hats there’s still an option for Hawkins to return into view.

Yamato is not Nakama, but can be Grand Fleet

I know everyone’s excited by Yamato, and also excited by Yamato. But I am not one of those ‘Yamato 4 Nakama’ people. Nothing against them at all but Yamato’s purpose does not fit the crew at all. I still stand by Team Carrot, since her goals offer more space to sail at sea and she has already established herself a position on the Sunny as the Crow’s Nest (hinted already with her being a Kingsbird in Zou), all of which Yamato has yet to demonstrate. Yamato’s primary goal is to be Kozuki Oden, which means opening Wano’s borders. But with being Oden would also be to feel cramped by the stationary lifestyle of Wano, so after the dust clears I do believe that Yamato will take to sea, just not with Luffy. Instead I can see them either commit to the remnant Whitebeard Pirates - since Oden promised Whitebeard to return to them after completing Roger’s voyage, or to set up their own crew, being one of Luffy’s allies/Grand Fleet. This theme with Yonko kids is also one I see with Katakuri as well, either by smoothing things with Big Mom or breaking off themselves (as hinted when the kids fractured a little over who BM’s successor would be).

Kin’emon is the Next Shogun of Wano, Proven by Fighting Kaido

This one is a deep take, because many have their eyes on the Kozuki children for this one; either Momo by bloodright, Hiyori for female empowerment or Toki because we didn’t see a body. But my bet for Shogun of Wano is actually Kin’emon, one of the few Wano characters we have the most exposure of, it’s through finding Kin’emon did the Straw Hats become embroiled in Wano affairs. Additionally, Kin’emon’s history is quite a storied development from the delinquent he was to the noble warrior he is now. Sure he is a tad perverted still, but current Wano perception is that Kin’emon is a master strategist, one of Oden’s oldest confidants and the man entrusted with the protection of Momonosuke. But what will establish him as the future Shogun will be near the conclusion of the raid, when Kin’emon helps the pirates fight Kaido. It may just be a single opening, but Kin’emon has one thing that can factor in as an edge against Kaido: he can cut fire. If his Kitsune-Ryu can negate Kaido’s super-destructive dragonfire, then Kin’emon may indeed be seen as a legend worthy of leading Wano as an open country, all while the Kozuki either remain in Kuri or rebuild until they are ready and/or willing to be Shogun themselves.

CP-0 freed Law, because they need Kaido distracted

This panel mostly sells it for me. CP0 are of course the most secretive but also the most underhanded group of the World Government, they only have to face Orochi to request weapons because the Shichibukai system has put Buggy out of option and Wano is more technologically advanced. But Orochi is cocky, he thinks himself untouchable with Kaido by his side, so wouldn’t it be a ‘shame’ if Kaido was somehow incapacitated? That the alliance’s plans came to fruition and Orochi and Kaido fell to them? This plays into CP0 hands nicely, because while Kaido and co are preoccupied with the raid, CP0 can steal the blueprints for all their new and deadly technology Kaido has spent decades working on, saving Law also means he owes them a favour, and Law is definitely someone you’d want one day to request a favour from.

Kaido saves Momonosuke!

The general story between Kaido and Momonosuke seems to be that Kaido expects more from Momo and is thus disappointed to find him to have no goals, no strength and no courage. Right now Momo is about to be crucified so Orochi can feel at ease, but interestingly Kaido (nor Black Maria) seem all to enthusiastic about this. I do think that many people can kill Orochi; Zoro, Hiyori and Denjiro being the top 3 options, but I think Kaido is also an option himself and the reason will be Momo’s Devil Fruit. It doesn’t feel like coincidence that Momo can turn into a dragon, nor that Momo’s dragon form has never been seen to Kaido or the wider public, right now Momo would be a goner because the mere presence of Kaido negates the number of infiltrating Samurai, Robin, Jimbei and the Momo Rescue Squad, but if Momo - like he often does when he’s scared - turns into a dragon, his tough hide would spare him from any blade or bullet Orochi has. The mere sight of a fellow dragon may be the trigger as well for Kaido to change his mind on Momo and finally, FINALLY toss aside Orochi, killing him or at least leaving him at the mercy of the nine shadows Toki prophecised.

Wrath of the Queen of Beasts: The Bewitching Kunoichi, Tama!

Tama is of course not present in the raid, and there is good reason for that. The battlefield is no place for her to be endangered, but she may also be a decisive key to Luffy and co turning the tides. Tama’s Devil Fruit works on SMILEs and normal animals, so far she’s been able to turn Headliners such as Babanuki and Speed to her side, all of Udon’s SMILE guards are under her control as well as Hihimaru and Komachiyo. Add on the also-absent Caribou, Hitetsu and Onimaru and we may still have a vast army primarily populated by Tama’s new subordinates waiting to also raid Onigashima. It’d also be quite fitting that the ‘Animal Kingdom’ Pirates would be forced to fight actual beasts, one other beast that can be fought that Tama may’ve been seeking are the Mountain Gods, I’m unsure if the main god is still alive (I mean, Nola made it and she’s much older) but its son at least must have a part to play, and if Tama was really tactical the dango from the O-Shiruko would be her Kibi Dangos. The final cap to Tama’s importance to the raid and Kaido’s downfall can also be her friendship with Big Mom back when she had amnesia. Big Mom was angry in Udon because there was no O-Shiruko to share with the leftover towns, it’s this waste of food that also sets Luffy off to blow his cover in Onigashima, so if Big Mom also notices the waste of food with Tama in mind, this could also trigger her in the same way. She may not be directly involved, but Tama’s lasting effect on the characters themselves can still provide a key impact to the story.

And with that I’ll stop, I do have others but not really Wano-exclusive, and those that are can quickly be debunked within the next 2 or 3 chapters, so I’ll keep those close to the chest XD As with Parts 1 and 2 feel free to expand on this for other theory videos/posts, I’m sure more digging can be found. Until next time!

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perhapsapremise · 4 years

Photo

[holiday advent challenge day 8, prompt: reindeer. on ao3 Merry Christmas!]

“Did you know reindeer and caribou are the same thing?”

Jon spins around to find Rickon, having taken a cookie off the counter which is, incidentally, in the shape of a reindeer. He takes a bite of the cookie while looking seriously at Sam. Jon, of course, has already heard this fact from his brother several times.

Sam gives Jon a quick, uncertain glance, and Jon nods encouragingly towards Rickon. Sam had always been a little uncomfortable around Jon’s younger sibling, or any children really. He claimed he didn’t know what to say to them.

“Oh, I didn’t know that,” Sam says. “I always thought they were two different species.”

“Nope,” Rickon says cheerfully, shaking his head. “People used to think they were, but it turns out they’re all the same one. There are a bunch of different subspecies though. The biggest one is the woodland Caribou, they live in North America. The smallest is the Svalbard Reindeer, which live in Norway.”

“That’s interesting,” Says Sam, sounding totally sincere even as he sends Jon a questioning look.

In honesty, Jon was about as confused about Rickon’s latest obsession as he was. He knew this particular interest had started when he’d read a book or reindeer facts at school, but he’d never expected reindeer to be an animal to excite an eight year old.

Rickon’s interests always seemed to catch Jon off-guard, though, as he seemed to jump almost randomly from one fixation to the next, the previous ones usually all but forgotten.

That was one of the reasons he and Robb were having trouble finding what to get their youngest brother for Christmas. It was pretty clear what he would like then, at that moment, but there was no telling if he’d still be invested in this topic by the time the holiday actually rolled around, even though it was only a few weeks away.

“You know where the word caribou comes from?” Rickon continues, eager to give to his whole spiel now that he has a captive audience.

“I don’t” Sam says.

“It’s from an old Mi’kmaq word which meant ‘shovelling snow’.”

“Oh yeah?”

Rickon nods confidently. “And you know Santa’s reindeer?”

“Sure.”

“They were probably all female, because adult male reindeer shed their antlers in the winter, but the females keep them year-round.”

“Huh. I never knew about that,” Sam says. He still seems a little nervous.

“Most people don’t,” Rickon says. “Only know their names.” He shoves the rest of the cookie in his mouth.

- - -

“What’s your favourite animal?” Rickon asks the question with an odd attentiveness, as if taking mental notes. Robb almost hesitates to answer.

“Wolves, I think.”

Rickon nods thoughtfully while Jon, across the room, huffs a laugh.

“What?” Robb protests.

“Nothing,” Jon says. “Just, that’s very middle school.”

“Oh, shut up,” Robb says. He’s about to follow up with some sort of counter-attack, but he’s interrupted by Rickon, who’d moved on from Robb to interrogate Theon.

“What about you?”

Theon, who was previously busy stuffing his face with crackers - Robb’s crackers that he’d taken without asking, Robb notes - and takes a moment to swallow before answering.

“Squids, for sure,” he says, nodding confidently.

“Ew,” Sansa says, not looking up from where she sat a the table, drawing.

“No ew,” Theon says. “They’re majestic animals. Kings of the sea. Not to mention delicious.”

“Again, ew.”

Theon sticks his tongue out at her, though of course she doesn’t notice, still absorbed in her drawing.

Arya looks up from looking through Pokemon cards with Bran long enough to say, to Sansa, “I’m definitely getting you a live squid for Christmas.” Sansa just rolls her eyes in response.

“What about you, kiddo?” Theon says, turning back to Rickon. “What’s your favourite animal?”

Rickon looks thoughtful. “I have lots, but right now I like reindeer.”

“No, I mean like a real animal,” Theon says offhandedly.

At that, everyone looks up from what their doing to stare at Theon.

“What?” He says.

“Reindeer are real animals,” Rickon says matter-of-factly.

“What? No they’re not.” He looks confident at first, but hesitates as he looks around a the incredulous looks he’s getting from the older Starks. Jon appears to be surpressing laughter.

“You know, reindeer,” he continues, with considerably less confidence. “Those made up animals that pull Santa’s sleigh?”

Rickon looks remarkably unimpressed for a seven year old.

“Theon, you absolute dumbass,” Arya says. Jon bursts out laughing.

“Arya!” Robb shouts, but she’s already making a speedy escape from the room.

Robb momentarily considers going after her, but decides it’s not worth it.

“You really didn’t know reindeer were real?” Robb asks, voice laced with amusement.

“Shut up,” Theon says.

- - -

Theon plucks a large plush reindeer off the shelf.

“What about this?” He turns to Robb quizzically. “Do you think he’ll like it? Or is he too old for this stuff, you think?”

Robb is ashamed to say he’s not sure because his parents had always been there to help pick out gifts for his siblings, and that they were the ones who kept track of which toys they were interested in and which ones they’d grown out of. They’d always done a really good job of it.

Theon is still looking at him, waiting for a response, and it was already really nice of Theon to go out and buy gifts for all Robb and Jon’s younger siblings, because he cared and because they deserved it. It was the thought that counted, Robb thought, and Theon had kept up with his brothers interests enough to know he liked reindeer, at least. He would give some more thought to Rickon’s exact preferences later, when buying his own gifts.

“I think he’d like it,” Robb says, sounding more confident than he feels.

Theon smiles in satisfaction and strikes off to find something for Bran.

Robb lingers for a minute, glancing around the aisle. It was stocked full of reindeer themed items, because of course it was, because it was Christmas. That should’ve made it easier to find something his brother would like, but was actually making it harder because he didn’t know what to chose.

It’s now the second christmas since their parents died, and Robb should be better at this. He should be able to keep track of his siblings interests, predict what kind of gifts they’d like. He could feel it again, that crushing feeling in his chest, like -

“Hey, are you coming , or -” Theon appears by his side again, but something stops him when he sees Robb. “You okay?”

“Fine,” he says, feeling a little hopeless.

- - -

“Can you draw me a reindeer?” Rickon asks, sitting down next to Sansa at the kitchen table, where she’s busy drawing.

“What for?”

“I dunno,” he says. “They’re just cool.”

“Sure,” she says, which surprises Robb a little. She rarely responds so well to her younger siblings’ requests.

Robb half keeps an eye on them while washing the dishes. Not because he needs to, but more out of instinct.

Rickon leans over the table and watches intently as she works. When she’s done, she hands him the paper with flourish, and he takes it, grinning.

“Cool, thanks,” he says.

“You know,” Sansa says, half-smiling. “If you want, I can show you how to draw one yourself.”

“Really?” He asks, wide-eyed.

“Mhmm,” she nods. “Wanna try?”

He nods vigorously, and she hands him a paper. Robb turns away, smiling.

They’re mostly quiet after that, Sansa intermittently offering instructions or encouragement. Robb finishes up the dishes and drifts out of the room. He glances over at them before leaving, and they’re both still quite engrossed.

He finds himself at the living room window. It’s a cold day, the window is heavily frosted. Robb wipes some away. The world outside is already covered in a thick blanket of snow and it’s still coming down pretty hard, almost a blizzard. Robb’s not sure why, but he always found it calming, watching the snow come down.

He’s not sure how long he stands there, staring out the window, before his brother comes out of the kitchen and joins him. He glances outside, like he’s trying to see what Robb finds so interesting.

“Here,” he says, holding up the paper in his hands. “For you.”

“For me?”

Rickon nods, watching him expectantly.

He looks down at the drawing. It’s quite a good drawing of a reindeer, for a kid, Sansa’s lesson must’ve been effective. It doesn’t look like a cartoon drawing at all, but like a real reindeer, except that it’s nose is coloured bright red. Next to the reindeer is what looks like a wolf. He’s ever signed the bottom of the paper, his name written in big, messy letters with a green marker.

“It’s a good reindeer,” Robb says, nodding at his brother.

“Thanks,” says Rickon. “They don’t really have red noses, but I thought it was seasonal.”

Robb laughs. “It sure is.” He points to the other animal in the drawing. “And that’s a wolf?”

Rickon shrugs. “You said you liked them.”

Robb feels himself grinning. “I did,” he says. “I do. Thank you. This is really nice.”

Rickon smiles. Robb ruffles his hair. “You’re a good kid, you know,” Robb says.

“Stop,” Rickon whines, pushing his hand away, but still smiling. He moves up in front of the window, resting his arms agains the windowsill and staring outside.

“Do you think we can see one, one day?” He asks softly, after a long moment of silence. “Like, in real life?”

“I don’t think they have reindeer here,” Robb says.

“What about in a zoo or something?”

Robb smiles. “Sure. Someday, I’ll take you to a zoo and we can see some reindeer, okay?”

He nods silently, still staring out the window. He’s getting taller, Robb notices, growing up before his eyes. They’ve all grown so much since - everything that happened. Robb wishes they didn’t have to, but there’s nothing he can do. All he can do is try to look after them, like their parents would have.

He messes Rickon’s hair again, and this time his brother doesn’t pull away.

- - -

On Christmas Eve, John shepherds his younger brothers to bed and they don’t try to right with him.

Afterwards, he helps Robb clean up the kitchen, makes sure all the gifts are ready for tomorrow, and makes sure Sansa and Arya get to bed on time.

Everything that needs to be done today is done, and Jon goes by the front hall to turn off the porch light. He stops short when he sees Rickon, by the door, pulling on his boots. He’s got a jacket on, but is still wearing his pyjamas underneath.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Jon asks. His brother looks up, startled.

“Nowhere?” He offers

“Nowhere?” Jon asks skeptically.

Rickon nods, shifting his eyes guiltily.

“Well, if you weren’t going anywhere, then you should go back to bed,” Jon says. He walks up to the door and locks it firmly. He looks down at his brother, waiting for an answer.

Rickon looks conflicted for a moment, then resigned. “I was just going to the church,” he says.

Now Jon is just confused. “In the middle of the night? Why?”

Rickon just shrugs.

Jon continues cautiously, trying to roll with it. “If you wanted to go to the service, you should’ve said so earlier, we could’ve -”

“No, not that,” Rickon says. “We didn’t go into the church. We just waited outside. So we could hear the music.”

“We?”

“Mum used to take me,” he says softly. “She would come get me, after I was supposed to be in bed, and we’d go together.”

“Oh,” Jon says, because he doesn’t know what to say. The two of them are silent for a moment, Rickon stares at the ground.

“What if - ” Jon starts hesitantly. “How about I take you instead? Would that be okay.”

Rickon looks up, nodding carefully. “Okay,” he says.

“Put a hat on, though,” Jon says. “And some gloves. You’ll get cold.”

They walk down the street together, cutting through the snowy fields behind the houses.

They stop at a low stone wall surrounding the church. It’s a small thing, old but well maintained, and warm light spills out of the windows. Jon had never paid it much attention before. All he knew was that their mother liked to come here sometimes, that it gave her some sort of comfort. Jon had secretly been a little dismissive; as a younger teenager he’d been quite cynical about religion. Tonight, though, he had to admit it looked beautiful.

Jon pulls himself up onto the wall. “Here,” he says, reaching down to lift his brother up. He sits Rickon in his lap so he’s not against the cold stone in his pyjamas, and Rickon doesn’t squirm or pull away.

The music starts slow, the sounds of a choir singing spilling gently out the open door. Songs Jon recognizes, mostly, silent night and the like. He’d never had any special affection for Christmas songs, either of the religious or secular variety, at least not since he’d gotten old enough to enter his edgy teen phase.

Right now though, as the sound drifts lightly out of the church, the only sound in the dark, cool night, the stars twinkling above them, it was so beautiful it was almost surreal.

“It’s nice, isn’t it?” Rickon says.

“Yeah, it is.”

“It’s a nice night.”

“It’s beautiful.”

“I wish mum was here.” He’s so quiet Jon almost doesn’t hear him over the singing.

Jon pulls him in tighter. “I know. Me too.”

The music washes over them, and Jon feels a lightness in his chest.

“We’re gonna be okay, you know,” he says softly.

“I know, Jon,” he says.

Jon sits on the wall with his brother, listening to the music, until Rickon falls asleep, and Jon carries him home.

#game of thrones #a song of ice and fire #asoiaf #robb stark #jon snow #rickon stark #Arya stark #sansa stark #theon greyjoy #got fanfic #my fanfic #fanfic #writing #my writing #edit #mine #this was gonna be a lot shorter but it kinda ran away from me #I have some feelings

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e-e-paradise · 4 years

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the last meeting

Peter and I crossed the threshold of an old run-down house on Frank Street. We did not know it at the time, but we were entering onto the stage of what would be a tragic spectacle. Neither of us had seen John in years and we both had jumped at the opportunity for a reunion. We wanted things to be as they were in our romanticized memories of youth. Days that were spent together on vacant lots of construction sites, derelict homes rented by punks and degenerates, and basements of our family homes. Uneasiness and excitement became danced in my belly and the overwhelming optimism I felt about us once again coming together dulled my senses to the tension that was already starting to build. These two men had once been as close as brothers, but now they appeared as distant as planets, both following the gravity of their own separate moons. I felt uncomfortable in my skin as soon as I saw John. I had imagined us meeting again many times, I imagined the way he might look at me, and what the look might tell me about just how far we had likely grown apart. John hugged me and dark nights of the soul I had spent wondering about our friendship melted away. Years of hurt and tension and guilt flowed out of my body like ice in the spring. Optimism filled my heart and guided me through introductions to his new friends that, before coming here, I had been so nervous to meet. Peter and I had promised each other in the bar before leaving that, if the evening were to sour or uncomfortable, we would just leave quickly and continue catching up without John. Oh, how I wish that we had kept this promise to each other!

John’s friends were nice. We played card games and teased each other like old friends instead of strangers. I confided in a girl, with a shaved head and a Monroe piercing, that I had been nervous about seeing John. I explained to her that we were estranged high-school sweethearts. She smiled and nodded and then continued her conversation with her other friend, a shorter woman with kind eyes and a soft build. I became hot in the face and I could feel shame ooze into my body like a toxic spill from the tar sands. Shortly after this she left, and I wondered if perhaps she and John were sleeping together. I hoped that I had not intruded, but reasoned with myself that, if they were, he probably would have prepared her for the situation, or perhaps she would not have cared either way. Still, the situation had set something in motion inside me that I chose to ignore for the sake of maintaining the buzz of a rekindled friendship. In the background of my thoughts, the idea that I had confided this in her precisely BECAUSE I suspected that her and John were sleeping together buzzed around in my brain like a gnat. This shadow-thought lurked in my mind and I remembered myself as the person I once was, so scared and damaged, so young and reckless. My blood became ice for a brief moment, and I hated myself. I sat with this feeling for a moment and then waved goodbye to it. I reminded myself of all the work I have put in, since being a teenager, to minimize the damage I cause others. A therapist once told me that hurt people can be like injured animals in the wild. When you approach them to try and assist, they lash out in fear and hurt their helpers. I am more healed now and I can recognize people’s kindness for what it is. This thought gave lightness to my heavy mood.

Around this time, Peter began to become surly. This trait often surfaced with his consumption of alcohol. We all went outside for a cigarette and I asked John about his job. Peter was becoming increasingly defensive. He had assumptions about John’s career that were rooted in insecurity. I could not hold this against him. Peter has always been somewhat of a lost soul; in some ways I am too. Whether it be from a complicated up-bringing, or a certain astrological proclivity, we have always connected over pain and discomfort with reality. John was much more neurotypical than us. He had the perfect balance capitalist ambition and artistic talent that neither Peter, nor I, have ever seemed to master. For better or worse. I think that, when Peter left Ottawa after caring for his parents and breaking up with Mary, he needed to get away from himself almost as much as he needed to get away from this government shithole. Seeing John again put him too close to that person that he had been trying to run away from. He began to take verbal jabs at John. I tried my best to quell the tension with quiet reminders to Peter under my breath like, “think clearly” and “let go”, he seemed to not have heard me as we went inside.

Peter and I sat on the couch in the living room in silence together. He was leaned back into the cushions, with pursed lips and his gamblers poker face fully intact. He was watching John as if from far away, observing him like a wolf might observe a distant caribou calf what was straying behind the herd. It seemed he was resisting the urge to pounce and he suggested we leave. I felt relief as I moved to the door and got my coat. Pulling my phone from the left pocket, and searching for my uber app, I ordered a car and approached John to say goodbye. He seemed for a moment to not want us to leave and then invited us into the basement to look at his new drum kit. Peter agreed and I cancelled the uber. Descending into the basement would be the final act of the evening.The smell of stale beer, sweat and mould overpowered my nostrils and made me feel nostalgic. John was talking but I could barely understand what he was saying. Something to do with the specification of the instruments that he was showing off to Peter. I sat at the drums and banged aimlessly on the skins. I never had any real talent for music, unlike the other two men in the room with me. Peter picked up a guitar and strummed a single note. A chugging reverberation made the stale air in the room electric. I watch his gaze meet John’s eyes. It struck me that I had not seen these two men make eye contact all evening All at once words spilled out of Peter.

“What the fuck is wrong with you man?”

“What are you talking about, man.” replied John, stunned, although he probably shouldn’t have been.

I froze and wildly tried to force Peter to look at me. I called to him with my mind and begged him not to continue.

“Where have you been? Here you are with all new friends, and all you’ll talk about is your shitty new job!”

John then suddenly seemed to once again find his voice.

“My job isn’t shitty, I love my new job. What the fuck are you even doing these days anyways?”

Peter flushed with anger as more, and more potent, venom began to shoot from his mouth. He had always struggled to find a career path that suited him. He had tried for years to live up to his incredibly successful family’s expectations of him.

“You’re a fucking bastard John. You talk all night about this stupid job, and it’s like, you have totally forgot who you are! You haven’t kept in contact with anyone. Where the fuck is Greg, man? Do you even fucking care?”

I looked down at the floor and began to feel dizzy. In the corners of my vision a hot-red glow began, and I looked at Peter with the fury of the culmination of this catastrophe.

“That’s not fucking fair, Peter” I said, though no one heard.

Greg had been a friend during youth. I was never particularly close to him but knew him to be a faithful and honest person who had difficulty feeling confident or expressing himself. No one had heard from him in a very long time and rumours that he had fallen into darkness and depression we rampant. I knew that Peter unfairly blamed John for not keeping close enough in contact with Greg, as if this could have somehow helped the young man out of his spiral, it was a ridiculous and cruel thing to say.

“I don’t know, shit. Why the fuck would you even bring that up, Peter? You know what, dude, you’re a fucking ass hole and you’ve always been a fucking ass hole. You’re a selfish piece of shit and I’m glad I’ve moved on with my life.” John barked.

I felt tears well up in my eyes and I began pleading with them to stop. I begged both of them to not end the evening in such an ugly manner, but all my pleas went unheard and ignored as my two old friends tore each other to pieces in front of me. John told us to get out of his house and I selfishly hated Peter for starting this fight that would ensure that my friendship with John was certainly over. Peter began to cry and ask John if he meant what he said, to which John replied that he did. That’s when Peter lost control and with one loud crack knocked John across the face with a blow that landed accurately and brought him to the floor. Men from the living room now began to thunder downstairs in steel-toed combat boots. They dragged Peter upstairs and threw him from the house. I bent over and touched John’s face. He looked up at me and asked me in a voice that I recognized from him; a voice of fear and heartache.

“What just happened?”

I began to cry and told him that I didn’t know, I then apologized and told him that it was nice to see him. His eyes became dark and he looked away from me. I knew in that moment that it was all over. All of my hopes of reconciliation were dead and there was nothing to do now but leave.

I ordered another uber outside and my phone died. I sobbed uncontrollably on the way home. My misery was mirrored as Peter joined me and collectively our broken hearts expressed themselves in a symphony of tears. I told him that his ego was a fucking problem and that, when he drinks, he can be a jackass. He told me he knew that that he was sorry. We went back to my house and curled together on my couch, holding hands, we licked our wounds over tea, and he apologized profusely. I forgave him as he left and promised to call him in the morning.

Peter and I still call each other to catch up every once in a while. He has since completed his red seal and is working as a carpenter. I am very proud of him. John, on the other hand, has only sent me a message once since that evening. It was the day that a close friend of ours died. He asked me if I was okay, to which I replied that I was even though I was terribly sad. He said the same. I no longer think about a reconciliation, all of my past attempts have been met with little to no enthusiasm. It’s funny because, when we broke up, he made me promise him that we would still be friends. For my part, I will always keep that promise and will silently wish him peace and happiness for the rest of my days on earth.

#poetry #prose #writing #ottawa #canada #emotional #love #friendship

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wickedwitch1997 · 7 years

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The Lie

1.It’s the Painted Lady 2.The Blue Spirit 3.The Painted Spirit 4.The Blue Lady 5. The Water Bender 6. The Fire Lord’s Heart pt 1 7. The Fire Lord’s Heart pt 2 8. The Painted Lady and the Blue Spirit 9. The Fire Lady 10.The Blood Bender 11. The Family Reunion 12. The Water Bender’s Baby 13. The Avatar

When Aang proposed to Katara, she said yes.

Aang was so excited that he jumped around with glee, after sliding the silver ring onto Katara’s hand. Katara was excited as well, but her excitement quickly faded when Aang announced that he needed to return to Republic City only two days after the engagement.

Katara had to plan her wedding with Aang, mostly through letters, but they were arguing more than they were planning.

Aang wanted to be married in Republic City, Katara wanted to be married in the Water Tribe.

Aang wanted to break Water Tribe traditions, Katara wanted to keep them.

It’s difficult to marry someone of a different nation, Katara wanted to honour Aang’s ancestors and traditions, she spent hours researching Air Nomad culture to try and blend it into her wedding.

In the end the wedding came to be, but Aang did not help much.

Katara stands outside the wedding hall in the Water Tribe, her heart races, it pounds in her chest as fear and anxiety twists in her stomach.

She is dressed in a traditional Water Tribe gown, made from white caribou-bear fur, much to Aang’s distain.

Hakoda stands beside his daughter, offering her his arm as the doors begin to open.

Katara takes a deep breath and then hears music, she watches her bridesmaid walk out, led by little Senna, the flower girl.

Katara then enters the hall, her heart almost falls out of her chest when she sees what awaits for her at the end of the aisle.

Aang was secretive of who he was choosing to be his best man. Katara assumed it was going to be Sokka, Aang was always saying how the best man would be coming last minute from Republic City, that’s why he couldn’t make the rehearsal. Sokka didn’t attend the rehearsal, Katara was certain it was going to be Sokka.

But instead, standing next to Aang, dressed in royal Fire Nation clothes, is Zuko.

Katara’s heart kicks into overdrive, racing in her heart making her chest tighten.

‘What’s he doing here?’ she thought to herself as she gripped her father’s arm tightly. Katara keeps a smile plastered onto her face as she starts to walk down the aisle.

‘Maybe I could turn and run,’ she thinks as the people stand and look to her, ‘I can’t, they’ve seen me. Maybe I could ask Aang and Zuko to swap places.’

Katara looks to her daughter, now standing at the end of the aisle in front of Toph, Katara’s maid of honour.

Zuko’s daughter, standing mere feet from her father and not knowing.

Katara feels as if she is being choked by the necklace around her neck, she didn’t think that Zuko would be at her wedding, she wanted a piece of him with her. She was stupid and he knows it; Zuko stares at her like the other’s do, but his attention is focused solely on the necklaced clasped around her neck, the picture of a broken promise.

Katara is walked down the aisle, slower than expected, she reaches the alter, she takes Aang’s hands in her’s and she stares into his eyes.

Katara’s hands are shaking, Aang squeezes them reassuringly.

“It’s going to be alright,” he whispers as the minister starts to talk.

Katara wants to look at him, to stare into the eyes of the man she loves and say ‘I do’. But she can’t, he isn’t the one standing in front of her, he isn’t the one who holds her hands and he isn’t the one Katara can love.

‘I love Aang,’ she says to herself, taking a deep breath to calm her nerves, ‘I love Aang, I love Aang.’

A ring slides onto Katara’s finger and Katara looks down to her hand, another silver ring to join the first, Katara doesn’t know if she prefers it over a betrothal necklace.

Katara says her vows, they fall out of her mouth, sounding like lies, burning her throat like fire. Katara says them with a smile on her face, a smile that is a lie, everything is a lie. Her eyes flick to Zuko for the briefest of moments before she turns to get the ring from Toph.

Katara slides the ring onto Aang’s finger, then they kiss.

A single tear slides down Katara’s cheek as she kisses Aang, everyone assumes it’s a tear of happiness.

Afterwards everyone piles into the reception hall, Katara laughs and smiles, pushing aside her longing for a man she can never have.

Katara avoids Zuko all night.

She dances with her husband and friends, she drinks and eats and is happy. But every time she glances at the Fire Lord, a string of sadness tugs on her heart, especially when she sees him interacting with Senna.

Katara is pulled onto the dance floor by Aang, they dance together and Aang is smiling and laughing, he’s so happy and Katara is only pretending.

“May I cut in?” someone asks, Katara turns to see Iroh standing behind her, with a smile on his face that Katara has missed seeing.

“Iroh,” Katara smiles, letting Aang go to hug him.

“You look radiant tonight,” Iroh smiles, sweeping Katara through the dance floor, “Congratulations.”

“Thank you,” Katara blushes.

“Uncle,” another voice says, a voice that sends a shiver of excitement and pain down Katara’s back.

Katara turns and comes face to face with Zuko.

“I have somewhere else to be,” Iroh coughs, he spins Karara and lets her go, letting her fall into Zuko’s arms, “Make sure the bride stays out of trouble.”

“I will,” Zuko promises, tightening his grip on Katara. Zuko pulls Katara closer to him, placing a hand on her hip and starting to sweep her around the dance floor.

Katara’s heart is pounding again, Zuko is staring at her throat again, like he wants to devour her.

“Can we talk?” Zuko asks, whispering into Katara’s ear, his breath warm on her cheek.

“Not here,” Katara whispers, looking to Toph, who dances with an unknown earth bender, “The floors have ears.”

Zuko laughs, Katara has missed that laugh.

Katara looks to Aang, he is talking to Iroh and they are deep in conversation, she takes Zuko outside, ducking through the curtains and closed doors to step onto the terrace, which is covered in a thick blanket of snow.

The air is cold, before Katara can even shiver, Zuko places his coat over her shoulders.

“You look beautiful,” Zuko breathes, his breath turning into little puffs in front of him, “From your face I gather that you didn’t expect me to be here.”

“I didn’t,” Katara admits, “What are you doing here?”

“Don’t worry,” Zuko laughs, “I’m not here to ruin your wedding.”

“You could never ruin my wedding,” Katara breathes, turning away from Zuko to lean on the railing, looking up at the stars.

“Really?” Zuko asks, standing behind Katara and placing his hands on the balcony, trapping her in his arms, “What if I were to kidnap you?” he asks, whispering in her ear, sending warmth flooding through her blood, “Take you away from here, far away, where no one would find us.”

“And why would you do that?” Katara asks, trying to ignore the effect Zuko has on her, she turns around and stares into Zuko’s eyes.

“Because I hate being apart from you,” he says, all laughter has died from his eyes, he stares at Katara with longing in his eyes, “I miss you, Katara, I hate everything I am, when you’re not around.”

Zuko reaches out and picks up the pendant of Katara’s necklace and says, “Run away with me.”

“We can’t,” Katara breathes.

“Why not?” Zuko asks, “Leave the whole world to burn, I don’t care.”

“I do,” Katara breathes, “Zuko, you’ve risked everything for your throne, don’t throw that away, and what about Mai?”

“What about her?” Zuko asks, looking absentmindedly at Katara’s pendant, flipping it over to stare at the gold etched into the back.

“She’s pregnant, with your child,” Katara gapes.

“She will be a good mother,” Zuko says, looking back into Katara’s eyes, “But she is not a good wife. She’s only pregnant because she tricked me.”

“What-”

“It doesn’t matter,” Zuko interrupts, “I love you, Katara. I would die for you.”

“I know,” Katara breathes, looking over Zuko’s shoulder to check that no one is coming, “But I want you to live for me.” She looks back to the Fire Lord and says, “Zuko, I love you too.”

Zuko ducks his head to kiss Katara’s lips, she presses her finger to his lip and pushes him back.

“But I can’t run away with you,” she says, as a tear falls down her cheek, she takes off Zuko’s coat and hands it back to him. Katara pushes him aside and walks back to the doors, wiping her tears.

“Why?” he asks, confused as tears well in his eyes.

Katara stops, her and gripping the door handle, she looks back to Zuko and as a tear slides down his cheek, she shatters his heart.

“Because I am carrying Aang’s child, and-” Then the lie slides right off her tongue, “-I love him more than I love you.”

@squishysuho

#it's the Painted lady fic #time for a heartbreak #hear that?#thats the sound of you crying #zutara #kataang #zuko #katara #aang #iroh #sad face #don't hurt me #chapter 14

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nebris · 5 years

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Prehistoric Hyena’s Teeth Show Bone-Crushing Carnivore Roamed the Arctic

Over a million years ago, among the chilly grasslands of the ancient Yukon, Canada’s most northwesterly territory, an unexpected beast roamed: a hyena. More lupine in appearance than its modern relatives, but still adept at crushing bones with its powerful jaws, this "running hyena" was the only species of its family to venture out of Eurasia and spread to the Americas. Paleontologists know the prehistoric carnivore as Chasmaporthetes.

The first Chasmaporthetes fossils were named nearly a century ago from the vicinity of the Grand Canyon, and accordingly, the ancient hyena’s scientific name roughly translates to “the hyena who saw the canyon.” Since that initial discovery, additional fossils have turned up from California to Florida, from northern Mexico to Kansas, and additional species have been unearthed in Africa and Eurasia. But there was always a missing piece to the puzzle. Paleontologists found Chasmaporthetes fossils in Eurasia, and the ancient predator clearly ranged widely through southern North America, but the fossils bridging the gap in a place called Beringia, where Siberia and Alaska were once joined by a land bridge, were seemingly nowhere to be found. A newly analyzed pair of teeth is helping to fill in part of that story.

A team of paleontologists led by researchers from the University at Buffalo describe the fossils today in the journal Open Quaternary. The teeth were collected back in the 1970s, found in the Yukon’s Old Crow Basin—a place that has yielded over 50,000 vertebrate fossils representing more than 80 species. Even though the hyena teeth were known in certain paleontology circles, no formal study had ever been published. Whispers of Arctic hyenas piqued the curiosity of University at Buffalo paleontologist Jack Tseng, who over years of discussions with coauthors Lars Werdelin and Grant Zazula eventually tracked down the teeth and positively identified them. “This was classic paleo collection detective work, involving a network of collaborators and collections managers,” Tseng says.

What emerges is a view of the Ice Age that’s a bit different than typical visions of woolly mammoths and Smilodon, or Saber-toothed cats. Even though artistic depictions and museum displays sometimes depict many different Ice Age species together, Chasmaporthetes arrived in the Yukon during a very specific slice of time that would look a bit less familiar to us. “There were no bison, likely no lions, no gray wolves, no muskoxen, no saiga antelope,” says Zazula, a paleontologist at Simon Fraser University. All those animals arrived in North America later. Instead, the hyena was neighbors with giant camels, horses, caribou and steppe mammoths (a different species than the more familiar woolly sort). And despite the moniker “Ice Age,” the time of Chasmaporthetes was on the green side. “There were probably a few stunted spruce trees, with swaths of steppe-tundra grasslands with shrub birch and willows,” Zazula says. Nevertheless, the high latitude of the ancient Yukon still brought protracted chills and short summers, meaning the hyenas “had to have been effective predators in the long, dark, cold Arctic winters.”

From the fragmentary fossil record of the beast, paleontologists see North America’s only hyena as more wolf-like than its modern spotted cousin. “Based on what we know about the skull and limb skeleton of Chasmaporthetes in other fossil localities, we think this hyena was longer-legged, with a much less-sloped back, and probably did not live in groups as large as living spotted hyenas do,” Tseng says.

The two teeth aren’t the oldest Chasmaporthetes fossils in North America, Tseng says, as the oldest finds are about five million years old. But the million-year-old teeth are significant for two other reasons. They not only demonstrate that the hyena ranged over much of North America for millions of years, but they also were found right where paleontologists expected them to pop up. “The Arctic fossils cut that distance gap along the speculated dispersal route right down the middle, putting a dot on the map where hyena paleontologists predicted Chasmaporthetes should have traveled,” Tseng says.

How Chasmaporthetes fits into North America’s ancient ecology is still somewhat hazy. Like other hyenas, this ancient species had bone-crushing jaws that would have allowed it to bust carcasses into splinters. But that doesn’t mean chomping on bones was all the hyena did.

“I think because hyenas are bone crackers, people tend to associate them with scavenging,” Des Moines University paleontologist Julie Meachen says. “But the modern spotted hyena is a fierce predator that gives lions a challenge.” While it’s unlikely that Chasmaporthetes lived in large social groups, as suggested by their sparse distribution in the fossil record, Meachen says that the carnivore was more than capable of hunting live prey.

When Chasmaporthetes arrived in North America in the Pliocene, many of the other “classic” Pleistocene carnivores were not yet present. Gray wolves and lions wouldn’t arrive for tens of thousands of years. The hyena likely lived along cuons—relatives of today’s dholes—and scimitar-toothed cats, Zazula says, so the hyena might have lived during a window when there wasn’t too much competition for prey.

However, Chasmaporthetes did face some competition with another bone crusher. A prehistoric dog, Borophagus, overlapped with the hyena for about three million years in North America. The canid might have dominated southern habitats while Chasmaporthetes largely stayed north until Borophagus, whose name means “gluttonous eater,” went extinct. “They almost certainly were competing with bone-cracking dogs during their co-occurrence in the fossil record,” Meachen says.

The challenging Arctic landscape may have actually been an ideal place for a predator with such abilities. “In harsh environments with low abundance of prey, bone cracking was a necessary and advantageous trait to hyenas because they could gain more calories from being able to eat more of the prey,” Tseng says.

Like many Ice Age mammals, Paleontologists are still wrestling with the question of what exactly wiped out Chasmaporthetes. “Since Chasmaporthetes went extinct before the end-Pleistocene, obviously something other than that event did the deed for them,” Meachen says. The arrival of gray wolves in North America, and the profusion of native dire wolves, may have given the hyena some stiff competition, but what drove Chasmaporthetes to the brink is still an open question. “Overall, I think this is still a mystery,” Meachen says.

The loss of the continent’s bone-crushing hyena was no small matter. Even though wolves can and do crunch bones, none did so to the degree of Chasmaporthetes. The hyena played an important ecological role breaking down large carcasses out on the plains and spreading nutrients throughout their range. The loss of these carnivores, and the lack of a suitable successor, changed the nature of North America—the continent just isn’t the same without hyenas.

https://www.smithsonianmag.com/science-nature/prehistoric-hyenas-teeth-show-bone-crushing-carnivore-roamed-canadian-arctic-180972436/#GmWlz9UrAwVuf2bP.99

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redlongunderwear · 7 years

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Wilderness Adventure in Newfoundland, Canada

From June 1st to the 6th 2017, I visited the Bay du Nord Wilderness in Newfoundland, Canada. I began hiking at Swift Current, initially using a power-line access road for the first 20km. It was under construction still, and I met some friendly people along the way who were curious about what I was doing.

I aimed to hike West, then North and Northeast to Port Blandford.

Some typical landscapes in “the barrens”. Lichens and mosses cover the ground, and the harsh conditions do not allow much tree growth.

It rained frequently, and was misty every morning. Temperatures in the first week of June ranged from 2 to 19 degrees C.

This is “the Tolt”, one of the two highest elevation landmarks in the Bay du Nord.

It’s a lone survivor of glacial erosion during the ice-age. Elevation is approximately 1150 ft.

Almost all of the terrain visible in the distance consists of bogs (or “muskeg”) and small ponds formed where boulders were removed. The elevation of these ponds can therefore vary greatly, because they are not all linked by an underlying water-table. Climbing a hill can reveal a pond at the top.

Bedrock here prevents drainage, and water-logged moss was present everywhere. After a few days I was able to determine how wet (and cumbersome to navigate) certain terrain was by the type of moss growing in it.

There is insufficient soil depth here for water to carve legitimate streams, so it flows freely between rocks just below the ground surface. Below 750 ft elevation, most footsteps are in water saturated ground and spongy vegetation which readily releases water.

I found and followed many game trails (paths made by animals) throughout the trip. The longest continuous one I followed was approximately 3km long, and had been used by moose, caribou, bear, rabbit, and coyote.

Here is one of my campsites, with a game trail going through it.

In the open barrens, these could be followed easily, and if their bearing delineated too far from my own I could leave the and join a different game trail shortly afterwards.

In the wet terrain, the trails became muddy streams and were therefore of little use. I’d walk alongside them until they entered higher ground again.

In the thick shrub and woodlands, game trails are so obscure and difficult to follow that they became dangerous. They are visible one the ground, but at waist height the vegetation grows over them. I was trapped in a network of them for more than an hour, 200 meters from the edge of the woods but unable to find my way out.

Sunset on the only afternoon with clear skies.

I used the opportunity to make a fire and have my only hot meal of the trip.

I saw moose sign (scat and hoof prints) everywhere, but didn’t see a single moose. I did however find this antler shed. It would have been from a 3-1/2 year old bull.

I saw many Canadian geese, and was often startled by the loud sound of a partridge revealing it’s position and making its escape with a a sudden flurry of squawking. I saw many canine footprints, and sign of rabbit and bear. Trout were not running yet.

Spring was unfolding about one month later than usual. Over the week I was there I saw the first hint of wildflowers emerging, and last year’s brown grass was starting to sprout new green leaves.

I’d often encounter peat bogs like this.

Sometimes these could be walked across with ease. Other times, the first step I took would be in mud a foot deep, so I tended to avoid them when possible.

At times they formed networks that were quite vast.

I expected stream and river crossings to be a challenge, but because my boots were fully saturated with water for the whole trip anyways, it was trivial to simply wade right across them. The most challenging crossing was Piper’s Hole River, which was about six meters wide and knee depth. The water was not fast-flowing, so taking one’s time, it was quite safe.

This is a typical stream in the barrens. It could be jumped across, but to do so was trivial because the ground on either side is fully saturated with water.

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I saw caribou every day of the trip. They shed their antlers each year, and I found many specimens. Though tempted, I kept only one - a small two point antler from a one-year old. Their antlers are fascinating because they have evolved to be asymmetrical. Of each pair, one has an overgrown tine which extents forward, over the face of the animal. That is the lower right protrusion seen below.

Caribou move silently in the barrens, and I’d often only see them when they were already aware of me.

Most were males, which disperse during calving. This one was quite curious about me, but kept its distance.

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I did see one mother and calve pair. Some females grow antlers, others do not.

Predators like coyote-wolf hybrids and black bear pose a real danger for caribou, and I frequently encountered bones scattered about - the remains of successful winter hunting and scavenging.

Usually I the caribou were scared away quite easily. This one went to extreme lengths to avoid me.

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I envied it’s ability to cross the water that was such an obstacle for me.

As the terrain transitioned from the barrens of the south to the woodland of the north, frustration set in and the dense vegetation spanning the horizon to the North and East eventually proved impossible to for me to pass through. After struggling for a few hours, I made the decision to turn back.

The second half of the trip was arduous, as I had a sprained ankle to walk on for the last 50 km. The weather worsened, but I made it back out of the wilderness on time to catch my flight. Walking speed varied quite a lot, I covered between 25 and 35 km per day.

And the end of the fifth day I stepped waist deep into a bog. It had rained most of the day and the wind was picking up, so at 6pm when I reached the power line access road helipad, I was cold and wet. I was fortunate to find that the pair of Bandvagn 206′s parked there were unlocked.

Though there was no first aid kit within (I sought a bandage for my ankle), I did find that the rear cab of one had bench seats to lay on, hooks to hang my cloths from and shelter from the howling wind and rain, so that’s where I slept!

In the four days that I was within the boundary of the Bay Du Nord Wilderness, the total pollution I saw consisted of one glass bottle, two beer cans, and six shotgun shells.

It was a relief when I finally left the wilderness. Cellphone coverage was surprisingly good throughout the journey, but to not see a human for days was a novel experience.

As I’ve come to expect of Newfoundland, I met terrain that’s more challenging than usual, and people that friendlier than usual.

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