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headspace-hotel · 1 year

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So. I saw your post about plants that so many people don't know exist, and I 100% agree- it's so sad that so many don't even realize their native plants exist. Or animals. The world wasn't made to be concrete and steel.

That said, I might be half decent at recognizing native plants, but I don't know a thing about the more obscure and less well known types. Like, edible fruits people don't eat? What are they called? What do they taste like? What wild and wacky flowers do I not know exist? What about rare plants, or ones that look similar to what we know but are completely different? What about stange animals?

Anyways, if/when you're in the mood to ramble I would love to hear about all the different plants.

Well, native plants will of course be unique to where you live, so I can only speak to my own area...but where I live, there is a little known fruit called a Pawpaw (not to be confused with Papaya, which is a different thing).

I think lots of people know about pawpaw, but despite a great deal of interest in commercializing it, this fruit is never found in stores due to being very fragile and spoiling soon after ripening.

You have to eat the pawpaw right after it falls from the tree and not a minute too late. It has a wonderfully soft, smooth texture and tastes like a mixture of banana and mango. The flesh literally melts in your mouth. I came upon a windfall of perfectly ripe pawpaws in the woods one day last fall, and it was a transcendent experience; I'm still haunted by how delicious they were. God's perfect food.

The thing is, when you go driving around in my area, you will see wild pawpaw trees everywhere there are streams and low-lying areas. You'd have to watch them closely because the possums love pawpaw, but I wonder how many people know to...

Flowers! I'd love to talk about flowers. You see, the plants that end up on lists of native wildflowers for butterfly gardens are a small selection that have been bred and cultivated by nurseries...but there are so many more.

For example, look at the Redwhisker Clammyweed:

Delightful. And I didn't even know it was a thing.

I'll add some of my own photos now. Here is a flower that popped up on its own in my back yard:

Purple passion flower! Its fruit is also edible.

Here is a native Ruellia I found in the pavement:

Spring Blue-Eyed Mary at a nature preserve

Wingstem:

Citronella Horse Balm:

An Ironweed that popped up randomly at the base of a tree in my back yard. Amazing things happen when you strategically identify areas to not mow.

This past summer I kept a big horseshoe-shaped patch of the back yard (where we used to have a garden patch) from being mowed, and by the time it was fall, this goldenrod and Frost Aster came all on its own! Literal clouds of butterflies and bees constantly hovered around it.

We call that spot the Meadow now. My mom complained for most of the summer about the "weeds," until one day I came home from work and she and my sister were in the meadow on a picnic blanket, staring at the butterflies and bees. "There are tiny bees!" my mom said, indicating a Melissodes longhorn bee. "I didn't know there were bees like that!"

A lot of my work these days has to do with introducing experiences with nature to people, because I've seen how it completely changes their perspective. The Meadow is going to be amazing in the spring...

#plants #gardening #native plants #pawpaws #nolawns

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mousetoe-wc · 7 months

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I Got bored one time awhile ago and made a list of every prefix plus some into organised sections so I thought I might as well share.

All the ones that aren’t cannon to warriors, yet at lest are bold

Describing names

Colours: red, russet, copper, golden, amber, yellow, green, blue, violet, pink, white, gray, black, ebony, dark, pale, silver, brown, tawny, fallow

Pattern, Texture + Size: spot/ted, dapple, speckle, freckle, brindle, patch, mottle, ragged, tangle, kink, bristle, fuzzy, curl/y, wooly, soft, sleek, little, tiny, small, slight, short, tall, long, big, heavy, crooked, broken, half, stumpy, shred, torn, jagged

Actions + Character: flip, pounce, bounce, jump, hop, crouch, down, low, drift, flail, strike, running, fidget, mumble, whistle, snap, sneeze, shiver/ing, shining, flutter, fallen, lost, rush, fleet, quick, shy, sweet, brave, loud, quiet, wild, hope, wish,

Other: claw, whisker, dead, odd, one, spike, fringe, echo, song, hallow, haven

Elements

Time + Weather: day, night, dusk, dawn, morning, sky, sun/ny, moon, storm, lightning, thunder, cloud/y, mist/y, fog, snow, blizzard, ice, frost, dew, drizzle, rain, clear, wind, breeze, gale, shadow, shade, bright, light,

Earth/Water/Fire names: stone, rock, boulder, slate, flint, pebble, gravel, sand/y, dust, mud/dy, meadow, hill, rubble, river, ripple, whorl, float, rapid, shimmer, lake, swamp, marsh, wave, wet, bubbling, splash, puddle, pool, creek, fire, flame, flicker, flash, blaze, scorch, ember, spark, ash, soot, cinder, smoke

Plants

Trees: alder, aspen, birch, beech, cedar, cypress, pine, elm, willow, oak, larch, maple, bay, rowan, timber, bark, log, wood, twig, acorn, cone, seed, spire

Berry/Nut/Fruit/Herb: juniper, elder, sloe, holly, yew, mistle, bramble, hickory, hazel, chestnut, nut, apple, cherry, cranberry, olive, pear, plum, peach, chive, mint, fennel, sage, basil, mallow, parsley

Flowers: aster, poppy, primrose, rose, bluebell, marigold, tansy, pansy, briar, cherry, daisy, dandelion, daffodil, tulip, violet, lily, myrtle, thrift, yarrow, heather, lavender, blossom, bloom, flower, petal

Other: leaf, frond, fern, bracken, sorrel, hay, rye, oat, wheat, cotton, reed, pod, cinnamon, milkweed, grass, clover, weed, stem, sedge, gorse, furze, flax, nettle, thistle, ivy, moss, lichen, bush, vine, root, thorn, prickle, nectar

Animals

Mammals: mouse, rat, mole, vole, shrew, squirrel, hedgehog, bat, rabbit, hare, ferret, weasel, stoat, mink, marten, otter, hog, wolf, hound, fox, vixen, badger, deer, doe, stag, fawn, sheep, cow, pig, lion, tiger, leopard, lynx, milk

Birds: robin, jay, cardinal, thrush, sparrow, swallow, shrike, starling, rook, swift, dove, pigeon, crow, raven, duck, goose, heron, wren, finch, swan, stork, quail, gull, lark, owl, eagle, hawk, kestrel, buzzard, kite, hoot, feather, bird, egg, talon

Fish, Reptiles + Amphibians: pike, perch, pollack, trout, tench, cod, carp, bass, bream, eel, minnow, fin, snake, adder, lizard, turtle, frog, toad, newt

Bug type Names: bug, lady or ladybug, moth, spider, ant, snail, slug, beetle, bee, wasp, dragon or dragonfly, bumble, worm, maggot, cricket, fly, midge, web, honey

Skyclan + Warriorclan: Bella, Billy, Big, Harry, Harvey, Snook, Ebony, Monkey

#warrior cats #wc

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perlinnoisetexture · 9 months

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[ID: a sketchy drawing of mae from night in the woods sitting on a rooftop and staring up at the full moon with the silhouettes of trees visible in the background. blue light reflects off of her fur and clothes. tiny pinprick stars are in the sky. end ID]

Mae from nitw for aster on kofi

#mae borowski #night in the woods #kofi request #mae nitw

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possibilistfanfiction · 9 months

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Solid

[nowhere near done in any way that will eventually go into smth longer lol but a little florist/tattooist au softness in celebration of three (3)! movies :) ]

'will you tell me about it?' ava asks, then runs a finger, feather light, along your arm. 'your garden?'

you hum, roll over a little so you can see her better in the moonlight. the willamette is calm out the window, even during the storm, glinting with the lights of the city, the bridge, the hush of february snow. it's warm, underneath your covers in maybe the first real home you've ever had — or, at least, the first you've made for yourself.

it's heavy, the insurmountable grief that sits, even among the flowers, ava's gentle fingers, her forever broken spine: parents who didn't love you, even though they should have; parents who couldn't love you, even though they wanted to. but here it is, the quiet, the hum of a different kind of wanting. and so you tell her: the doubled-flowering chrysanthemum; the lotus and the plum blossom and tallow. field maple and wood anemone; the silver y moth and rose chafer. a water deer above your elbow, a hawk's wing along the jut of your wrist. to fill in gaps, just as you do now, hands in soil: yarrow, goldenrod, milkweed.

ava listens with wide, attentive eyes and the softest smile, encouraging you when your voice gets caught in your chest when you tell her about the asters in switzerland, or the way your brother used to press tender ferns between pages of his favorite mystery novels for you to find when you read them after him, and your grandmother's jasmine, steeped carefully into tea she swore could cure any ailment. you finish, let ava still at the space left blank on the underside of your wrist — two tethered marrowbones and countless others floating; the blue of your veins a lie — red, if you were to investigate under your skin — or a breath, anyway. and she waits, lungs easy, the wind howling outside and the bed warm, ava's palm solid against the ink.

'don't laugh—'

'—me? i would never—'

'i want a honeybee, to finish everything.'

there's fond mirth in her smile, but none of it cruel. 'i love that.'

it sounds a lot like something else, sounds a lot like i love you, and it sits at the tip of your tongue but you are not yet brave. instead: 'one day, will you do it for me?'

she lifts your wrist and kisses there, a promise of many, many things: years stretching before you; trips to the gorge; the break of the waves on the coast in the spring. 'i would be really honored.'

it's overwhelming, to be seen, so you tuck yourself into the crook of her neck and she brings her arms around you, allows you this cave where nothing can touch you — your thin ribcages strong and whole, jaws that never clench in fear, the warm salt of tears a footnote, a blessing.

#wn #wn fic #prompts #avatrice #avatrice fic #honestly i was simply being lazy bc bea is just Like This about Anything #she's never normal #love her :)#flowers au

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blackswallowtailbutterfly · 1 month

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Wasps

Because they don't get enough love. Unfortunately they are also very fast, which makes getting photos of them difficult, but as you can see, they really like flowers. :)

I've always thought of them as the cool and elegant versions of their fuzzier, cuter cousins. Never hated them, just respected their space. Those that sting (many don't) only do so when they or their nests are threatened, never for nothing. It's just sometimes "nest threatened" means you accidentally hit it with the end of your broom that you were resting against a tree where you had no idea a nest even was...Anyway, many are carnivorous, but they are also pollinators.

All photos mine, unedited. Featured wasps include stump-stabbers (native), yellowjackets (native), bald-faced hornet (native), and others I'm not sure about. Featured flower hosts include swamp milkweed (native), white wood aster (native), and a rhododendron cultivar (not native).

One day I will get a very good photo of one of those gorgeous iridescent blue-black wasps...

#wasps #bald-faced hornet #eastern yellowjacket #insects #hymenoptera #wasps ants and bees #wasps on flowers #swamp milkweed #white wood aster #rhododendron #my photos #photography #blackswallowtailbutterfly #wasp nest

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dreadfutures · 5 months

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100 Serault Prompts

Inspired by the atmospheric and enigmatic game, Dragon Age: The Last Court, here are some prompts for art or writing. Don't forget to send the prompt along with the number to help your creator out!

Utterly indebted to the #SaveSerault preservation project, and @silvanils Plot Guide here.

The black ocean of trees seethes under a fretful night-wind.

Nightmares breed like maggots in meat.

Wolves howling in council, or prayer, or song.

Gnomic messages scratched into fragments of bark with a knife-point.

Beware of crows.

Painted Masked Goddess in the bluebelled glade.

An inquisitive wind stirs in the woods.

Questing roots crawling over a secret, locking it away against the centuries.

The forest returns to its sleep and its long, green dreams.

Streams suddenly freezing despite the sun.

A laughing wolf.

A pensive bear.

A spider the size of a carthorse.

There are stranger directions than ‘North’ and ‘South’.

Power is a difficult steed to ride. Not everyone can stay in the saddle.

Today's answer could be tomorrow's treason.

A Baker’s Breeze, early in the morning. Upon it, the scent of bread rising in the ovens.

A coy breeze carries the sounds and smells of the market.

Spice. Lies. Laughter. The play of coin.

A grey wind drones in the fireplace.

A slow rain drones on the windows.

A hard wind blows from the east, carrying fat, gloating ravens.

A song of old Serault: the Stag and the Rose.

A star-wind, high and swift, pushes silver clouds to and fro beneath the moon.

The lap of the river upon the castle’s stone feet.

The scent of leaves and nodding barley.

White feathers drift like snow.

Eels in the dark rivers.

The Applewoods are dappled with shadow and filled with succulent midnights. Come closer.

The Biting Wind that Masked Andraste keeps leashed like a dog.

The sun swarms the river.

The Chateau’s four cats stretch out on the roof-tiles.

The wind eddies in corners, making dancing columns of dust. It comes from nowhere, goes nowhere. A Fade-wind, the Dowager calls it.

The Chateau’s pennants crack like whips.

“Payment in Glass” is the Serault motto.

Dappled in gemmy light.

The Green Chapel in the Deepwoods, where wolves go to pray.

A line of grey in the dark; fighting, failing, dying.

A sound like tearing silk.

Burning blue with rage.

Sun as warm as the touch of a hand.

A garland of aster and cuckoo-flowers.

The Masked Andraste isn’t as keen on chastity as her moon-faced sister.

A mage must be a poet, a philosopher, and a butcher.

To see behind the world.

To hold fire by the throat.

Familiar territory, but never quite safe.

Serault’s pride is like her forests: root-deep, thick-skinned, hard-won from the world’s edge.

A bereskarn.

Rune-strewn bones of a fell beast.

A forest victim: flowers sprouting from their eyes.

Hands burned to the blackened bone.

The Tower of Lights, as it never was: scraping the sky, mantled in light.

Weep tears of silver.

Smashing a horned mask of glass and gemstones.

Your true face: a horned mask of glass and gemstones.

The Glassworkers' Guildmaster elections.

This is the Grand Game. Play or drown.

A glass Guildmaster's sword, the hilt spinning fractures of light across the floor.

Freedoms for the Glassworkers: to leave, and leave to marry.

If it doesn't fight back, you drink it.

Secret liaisons with the Lover: Candlelit meetings. Fingers tangling briefly in the corridors. The door to your chambers creaking softly open when the guards change their watch. Stifled giggles as a servant passes.

A change of lovers, and the fallout.

An old tome. Dense, inseparable uncials cram the book. The ink fades. Mold speckles the flimsy pages.

A pig farmer advises the Marquis.

A grin as tight as a gallows noose.

A mosaic floor.

Honor is a game that others play.

Your Chevalier Commander, and her loyalty.

Serault Town: Gold stone, red roofs.

The Horned Knight's hold: a round tower, jagged as a chipped tooth, its floors all collapsed in on one another. A great tree grows within it, spreading a canopy of burgundy leaves where the roof once was.

Grass sparkling with shards of an old, shattered mirror.

Fat partridge, simmering in a pot with sweet onions and pale beans, then a plate of round cakes, peppered with poppyseed and laced with honey.

The mother has eyes of fire; the daughter, a heart of it.

Twilit riverbanks untrod by mortal feet, and rings of tall blue stones that were not raised by human hands…

A hall where the trees walk and the stones speak.

The Horned Knight: clad in armor of forest green, with an ivy cloak that hisses along the flagstones.

Hounds in the kennels, baying for the hunt.

The effects of High Twilight.

The effects of High Peril.

The effects of Rumors of Revolution.

The Dignity of the Huntress, Glass Rose of Serault: deadly, beautiful, adored, dreaded.

The Freedom of the Scholar, who might be the one to bring change to Serault for the good of the common folk.

The apples have interesting properties: astringent... intoxicating.

The Chateau stands on an island in mid-river.

The Acerbic Dowager (Counselor)

The Cheery Baron (Counselor)

The Dashing Outlaw (Accomplice or Bodyguard)

The Elegant Abbess (Counselor or Lover)

The Kindly Knight (Counselor)

The Muttering Banker

The Purveyor of Teas (Accomplice)

The Seneschal (Counselor)

The Silent Hunter (Bodyguard)

The Smiling Guildmistress (Counselor)

The Wayward Bard (Lover)

The Well-Read Pig-Farmer (Accomplice)

His Dour Lordship (Counselor)

The Scornful Sorceress

The Anchoress.

#writing prompts #the last court #long post #serault #prompts

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vandaliatraveler · 7 months

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Dreary weekend in NC-WV, but once I got over my hangover from the WVU-Texas Tech game this morning, I managed to sneak in a quick fall hike on the Virgin Hemlock Trail in Coopers Rock State Forest. The asters are out in force and quite beautiful this fall. Among them are (from top): purplestem aster (Symphyotrichum puniceum); frost aster (Symphyotrichum pilosum), also known as awl aster; calico aster (Symphyotrichum lateriflorum); and blue wood aster (Symphyotrichum cordifolium).

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kervl-klear · 3 months

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C2ISTAR introduction part 2

North Capital

North Capital is Northland defense force’s head quarters where generals and admirals who perform non-command work report to whether they develop weapons or advising the higher up about war and espionage strategy.

The head quarter is so flooded with generals that major generals and rear admirals are simply glorified coffee makers and it is well known for being a place with suffocating work environment.

Area 21

Area 21 is a highly classified remotely detached facility administrated by Sandpear navy base on the seaside and Rosemary army base on the land side.

Sandpear is a navy base where fleet of battleships and aircraft carriers from the unit of the same name reside, they are established to safeguard Rosemary army base. The fleet is run by soldiers at the rank of lieutenant and above with their main function being to sailed out and mitigate intel leakage, Sandpear will temporarily take over residential units while hiding their true intentions through join command protocol.

Rosemary army base is an ISR office tasked to safeguard and analyze classified intels, most of the base located underground. There are 4 levels, B1 is the main office, B2-B4 are intel safes. The intel are categorized base on the classification level, blue files(confidential) are kept in B2, red files(secret) are kept in B3 and yellow flies(top secret) are kept in B4.

Aster research institution

Defense force research institution established as a result from clandestine collaboration between the pacifists of Northland and South wood to heal the victim of war under the guised of competing against West coast and Bay hill‘s technology.

The institution was burned to the ground, and the unit is disbanded. However, the soldiers seem to still be alive and are trying to reach out to someone with encrypted code.

#my art #my oc #c2istar #seoltang #noeu #angae #yuseong

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farrwoodss · 2 months

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The Zemira Sisters.

Woods actually draws other ocs that aren't Skye Asterism?? More likely than you'd think (and won't happen again until the next leap year).

3/6 of the main cast! That being:

(✦) Skye Asterism

(✦) Drift Zemira

(✦) Mist Zemira

(✦) Emory Cassian

(✦) Farren Cassian

(✦) Vesper Tines

Briefest of deep dives. Literally can not stress ENOUGH how I want asks about these guys. At some point I'll post a big lore dump!!

Skye Asterism is Project Songbird's protagonist. She's Drift's older twin and starts out as a starry-eyed kid in a ruffian village just beyond Kalopsia's border. She always was a wild and impulsive thing, overly sensitive and sentimental. A lycan that cried seeing deers be brought home from the hunt. her mind always ticked as restlessly as she did. Just like her mother, she had a certain passion for the stars. If only the similarities to her had ended there. But weak, little Skye Zemira couldn't have known she would become what she admired so fervently; a star of the less desirable sort, an unravelling supernova.

Drift Zemira is something of a glass child. She grew up bitter and neglected, taken under the wing of her Aunt Tyche instead of Lilah's, her father. As a result, she became a highly unlikeable teen, a delinquent characterised by flashing teeth and flying spit. She resented Skye for getting all their father's attention despite his insistence that she would understand when she was older, the eyes behind the words so blue and sad. Rage was a balm for the wounded beast hulking behind her ribcage. She's also ginger <3

Mist Zemira is the oldest of the three, two years older than the Zemira twins. She's their half sister after Lilah served as surrogate to her mothers. They're beloved to the ruffian den, their home a flourishing medicinal herb garden and a medical practice in one, one a gardener and the other a medic. The platonically bonded (but hopelessly devoted) pair decided to have a child together, someone to raise to be a speck of goodness in the world. Lilah was willing and Mist was born. She's a kind yet hardy lycan, exceptionally skilled at medicinary. She keeps Drift afloat in all this. Her hands are scarred from tending to the garden but you will never feel a touch gentler than hers.

Too bad all three are doomed by the narrative.

When the Zemira twins are age 14, Mist age 16, they flee the ruffian den. Lilah had vanished a month prior. With Mist's home an orange blaze behind them, fellow lycans crowing for the end of the "three cursed Zemira sisters", Tyche leads them into the spasming heart of the unknown: the Redwood Sea, heading towards the distant land of Kalopsia.

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spunknbite · 9 months

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South Downs, revisited

The garden faces south.

Wisteria and lavender. Borders of delphinium. Brilliant violet asters, peonies and shock-white hydrangeas. Hostas that could use splitting come spring. Hollyhocks thriving, standing ten feet easy. Lady’s Mantle, climbing roses, snap dragons. Yarrow, a lot of yarrow.

Grow you a garden. Start from seed, from the beginning, the inception. Dirt under fingernails, cracked terracotta pots, noon sun high. Watch stalks rise and flowers bloom, creation, something new and whole and yours.

There’s lattice-work arches too. A little neglected, water-warped wood imprinted with decades of climbing tendrils tattooing the grain. The clematis has fallen back, overstretched and thinning at the apex, but still the stains of its vines remain on the wood, revealing past summers. The patio stones that dot the perimeter are smoothed almost slippery from years of use and rain. Initials are carved in the trunk of the overgrown birch that shadows the back gate. SM + RB dug deep in testament, a fine layer of moss creeping at the edges.

Loved, this garden was loved by its former caretakers. Could be loved again, certainly.

There’s room enough to spread out. Add some colour — daylilies, cosmos, bellflowers. Coax some ivy up the brick. Mint as ground cover, along with flowering thyme, lily of the valley, phlox.

He could build an awning off the back wall, offer some more cover. Move the hostas – they’d be happier under the protection. Plant some astilbes, coral bells, some begonias in the summer. Add a few lounges, a place for an angel to read while it storms.

Maybe an apple tree, if he’s feeling bold.

-----

“I quite miss the country,” Aziraphale says one afternoon. A sip of tea, the familiar clink of cup on saucer. “It’s been centuries.”

“Tadfield?”

“Centuries since I’ve holidayed properly. The occasional day trip hardly counts.”

“You can’t leave this shop.”

“Not permanently, maybe just to get some air. See the sky again.” Saucer meets desk. A smile his way, blue eyes alight,

“And I will make thee beds of Roses And a thousand fragrant posies, A cap of flowers, and a kirtle Embroidered all with leaves of Myrtle”

“For Satan’s sake, you’re invoking Marlowe of all people?”

“And why shouldn’t I? Just because he’s been a smidge overshadowed by —”

“You know he was an atheist, angel?”

“Even a broken clock is right twice a day.”

“And that broken clock can write poetry too?”

“Quite.”

The bell above the shop door rings, and Aziraphale is off.

-----

The third bedroom is just a nook really; it peaks out of a dormer window overlooking the back garden. It has built-in shelves along one wall, inset and bordered with the sort of colonial crown moulding that Crowley imagines only Aziraphale would truly appreciate. Grandmotherly; shelves seemingly meant to house sun-faded doilies and ceramic cats.

But it could be a library. Granted, a small one, but there was space enough for a collection of the essentials with room to spare under the window for a desk. An angel must keep up with his correspondence, after all.

Dear angel, he’d written once, centuries ago. Then scribbled it out.

Dear angel, he’d written again, not long after. Then burned it.

Dear angel, he’d written again and again and again. Wasted paper made pulp made paper again, never sent.

-----

He buys the damned cottage.

Dumb idea. Impulsive, really. Like a lot of what he did, what he still does — gets a notion in his demonic skull and just charges on, unencumbered by reflection. As if he trusts some higher power is looking out for him, has his back – the absurdity of it. Once upon a time before the beginning of the world, he’d sauntered vaguely downward without really considering all the consequences, the ramifications of it all; hadn’t weighed and measured, worked out the celestial maths. No, he made a choice and paid for it without knowing the price.

(he would have kept sauntering on anyway, knowing where it would ultimately lead — earth and humans and their wonderful cars and Aziraphale and and and — but he hadn’t known then, couldn’t have known, just what shape his damnation would take, and that was rather the point; he was a careless idiot)

Here too, on earth. We can run away together — Alpha Centauri. Get an idea, a cocked up, stupid thought and go all in on it.

The Bentley, raging down London streets. A sharp, nearly blind corner. Is there oncoming traffic? Could he stop if he wanted to? Who’s even in control, has he ever been? Has he gone from one master to another to another?

You go too fast for me, Crowley.

So he buys the damned cottage, because what else can he do?

-----

Aziraphale gets in the elevator and Crowley gets in the Bentley. He doesn’t know where he’s going, but it’s not South Downs.

Also on ao3 for anyone interested.

#good omens #ineffable husbands #good omens season 2 #good omens spoilers #today i chose violence #south downs happily ever afters are my fav candy of choice so hey let's ruin that just like season 2 ruined me

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riddles-n-games · 4 months

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Guess what? It's time for a horse headcanon!!! A Hawthorne horse headcanon to be exact. From racehorses to heavy drafts, one thing’s for sure, the Hawthorne estate is not short on equines. As mentioned in the riding headcanon, there is a big stable further out on the property because they would otherwise be shunned by the rest of rich Texan society (yes, it’s totally a necessity as a part of the initiation according to Xander). Tobias Hawthorne had it made the year Skye was born but for Zara’s birthday and though there were annual renovations much like with the House, the next major section was added when Nash was five.

I think it most fitting to start off with the Hawthorne sisters, so let’s get into it. When they were little girls, as with most things, Zara and Skye fought over toys, accessories, clothes, and… ponies. (Yes, yes, I know that Zara was a shy, bookish child to quote Nan but they also fight in TIG over the inheritance so you can’t tell me that didn’t happen as they’re close in age.) Tobias had a grand selection of ponies that were different breeds with various strengths but there was one pony that stood out from the rest and of course, both of them had to have him. His name was Smokey, a Welsh Cob (Section D-heaviest of Welsh Ponies and Cob) dapple gray gelding that was a previous champion driving pony before he was retired. The girls loved him and neither of them wanted to let up; what’s worse is that he came with a sparkly light blue set and it was absolute chaos. Their father, for once, was beside himself so their mother had to jump in and what they would do is take the girls out on rides with him when the other was out, letting both believe that the other one gave up on Smokey when in fact that was not the case at all but it was one of their only working tactics to keep the peace. However, as time went on, Skye eventually was no longer interested in him and decided on another pony until she got interested in another, leaving Zara the winner (also, her parents were both betting on her to win this game of Who Gets the Pony). The two of them had a very close companionship and she used him for show-jumping until he passed due to declining health of an undiscovered disease.

Toby was never really interested in any equestrian events as he preferred simply riding and being in the company of his horses but did participate in driving, sometimes. He was definitely let off the hook more because he was basically the favorite child (I still feel bad Zara having suffered for it in the books even though she loved her adopted brother). On most occasions, he would be found in the stables grooming or taking care of tack after a ride; it was one of his go-to places when he wanted to avoid people. Another thing is that he loved to spend time in the pasture with his favorite horse, Aster, a Quarter Horse cross, during turnout or in a clearing in the woods. It’s noted that after Toby’s disappearance, Aster exhibited signs of depression and would wait at the gate, calling out for his owner. When Nash got older, his grandfather gifted him the horse as his first.

Now, onto the old man himself. Tobias was an American Cream Draft collector and prominent breeder which helped out the breeder’s association since this horse breed is considered to be very rare. In addition, he was quite fond of the Budweiser Clydesdales and acquired a few retired ones to produce his own bloodline that are also sometimes used in the commercials. He’s also had quite a few racehorses participate in the Kentucky Derby, Breeders' Cup Classic, the Dubai World Cup, Royal Ascot and Grand National, and Prix de L'Arc de Triomphe races. Worldwide, in different types of racing from the regular flat racing to steeplechase, this man was hitting the top from all fronts but he remained most dominant on home turf with horses in the States and Canada ranking highest. The billionaire was truly devoted to the sport and had many experts serving to help him out when he was making choices for the breeds which he wanted to invest in most.

With all this, it leads us to the brothers and how they ended up with some of the horses they own.

Nash:

Texas Dream-A Tennessee Walker mare with an ironic name but everyone calls her Dream. She's a sweetheart but is sassy when she wants to be, however, give her apples and she'll be whinnying after you for days (according to Xander, at least). Her coat is a shiny palomino and she is one of Nash's only fancy horses, serving as his western pleasure horse in alternative to Chili Pepper, his main competing mare.

Chili Pepper-An Appaloosa-Quarter Horse that is his champion rodeo mare and loves the open field, biting at stray calves during roundups. She is a roan leopard color and is easily recognizable as she has a scar running down the length of her girth from an unfortunate run in with a barbed fence when she bucked a little too hard.

Bullet-Very on the nose with his name, this Appendix Quarter is a fast one. A retired racer that participated in the All American Futurity, coming in a close second but winning the Rainbow Futurity and Champion of Champions Stakes. Tobias Hawthorne had partial ownership of his sire and bred his own star mare with him to produce Bullet. He is Nash's secondary choice for roundups and other rodeo-related events, however, they get along best when Nash is looking for a burst of speed or in a race against his brother, Need-For-Speed Jameson. This gelding is certainly living his life a quarter mile at a time as he whizzes past, a chestnut blur by the time you see him.

Buttercup-She is a Belgian-Shire cross that Nash rescued and although an elderly sterile mare, she is a very sweet gentle giant. He has her retired to the pasture but likes to follow Nash around when he is going in to catch a horse and Grayson too because she knows he carries snacks. She has a limp but is still in fairly good shape with a lovely light bay coat and white feathering.

Grayson:

Mirtha-An imported Marwari filly that was part of a successful twin birthing by a sought-after broodmare, a rarity in the horse world given they are usually fatal for the mare. She and her twin were purchased and shipped to the US by Tobias for Grayson and Jameson. She is an intended dressage horse that's still in her early days but Gray loves taking her out for a happy gallop around the paddock. She has a strawberry roan sabino coat but unfortunately for her she loves a roll in the dust or mud (actually, make that great for her, unfortunate for Gray).

Onyx-His Arabian stallion that is black all over and is one of the most reputable Arabians used in Western competitions in Texas. The greatest joy this stallion gets is rounding up calves in the ring and he is a great partner to Nash's mare, Chili Pepper, which is why Nash does prefer his younger brother to come out on the most major roundups even though Gray is not much for it. Onyx has produced some great foals through Chili and Gray's Shagya Arabian mare, Moonlight, which in their own right often make great playmates with each other.

Sadie-She is an American Saddlebred and his favorite horse both for riding and dressage competitions. Gray's had her since he was seven and got her as a birthday present. He was very attached to her when he was a kid especially since she's very gentle and sweet. She is a palomino pinto and foaled recently a little palomino colt who is the most rambunctious of the recent brood.

Dulce-A KWPN (Dutch Warmblood) filly that has potential to become a Grand Prix horse in dressage but Gray is also training her in harness riding. However, given recent complications in the sports he loves, he is taking a pause and trying to reevaluate some of the strategies he sees his trainers use because they aren't all the most ethical for the horses. If there's one thing to be said about Grayson Hawthorne, it's that he takes care of who or what he loves fiercely and that includes his horses especially those he uses for comps. She is a spicy thing and though she can given Gray a hard time, she loves him and is buttered up easily when he sneaks her a carrot before or after training sessions. Ironically enough, she is not a chestnut, despite their reputation but rather a beautiful dark bay that prances around like she owns the place but Gray just lets her think that.

Jameson:

Eeyore-He's an American Cream Draft mule as a result of an accidental pairing of a jenny with an American Cream stallion that was on loan to one of his grandfather's friends for breeding purposes. As can be seen, that went south and the owner of the donkey didn't want her foal so Tobias took it in and had him for ten years before Jameson got attached to him as a child. He's very gentle and though now an elderly mule, he still keeps up just fine on trail rides. He is the iconic cremello type coat of the American Cream but certainly more fuzzy because of his donkey genes.

Rhubarb-A Nokota stallion that is his barrel racer and preferred riding horse. He is a beautiful blue roan with what look like dark speckles. Tobias had selected him for his grandson after he started training for barrel racing comps and the duo had been inseparable ever since they started. He has taken a liking to Avery and always looks for sugar cubes from her when she and Jamie come to the stables for riding.

Soprano-She is the other half of the Marwari twins and unlike her twin, she isn't one for dirt but she sure as heck ain't a stickler for beauty-no, she loves rolling in the grass instead. So if you see a horse with green stains, that's definitely her which is how you can tell her apart from her sister. She's just the way Jameson likes her, a feisty firecracker with a heart of gold and a potential star jumper like her sire.

Corduroy-He is a Knabstrupper gelding with a bay leopard coat and also a former harness horse, now repurposed for show jumping. A lovely quiet horse, an unusual contrast to Jameson's usual likings in terms of dispositions but they get along well. He was also imported from Europe after his grandfather saw his potential and is the most recent addition to Jameson's collection.

Xander:

Meesha-A rescued zorse yearling that’s part Nokota-American Paint due to her dam’s heritage. Despite her zebra stripes, she does have patches of blue roan and white like her mother unlike the typical bayish striped coats of zorses. Though she is too young for riding of any sorts, she is pretty well behaved on trail rides when Xander rides on her mother. She is Xan's favorite of the bunch and he is her person, often galloping for the gate when she sees him or whinnying after him when he leaves.

Magpie-The Nokota-American Paint mare that's Meesha's mother and only really trusts her owner other than maybe Nash. She is very protective of her filly. She has a beautiful blue roan coat, similar to that of Rhubarb but she is distinguishable due to white flecks across her underbelly and legs. Xander loves to take her out on rides and play tag.

Darlo-An American Sugarbush Harlequin Draft colt that is the first of the Hawthorne contributions to the breed. Before his death, Tobias Hawthorne took an interest in the breed after his youngest grandson was doing research on lost histories of American breeds and he bought a few mares to start up another breeding project. Given his success with American Creams, he decided to try this draft breed, too, and Xander got involved, taking over after his passing. Darlo is a spunky lad and with his black blanket coat, he is a stunner when he trots past. Xan hopes for him to be a stud at some point but in the mean time, he is simply growing up under the watchful eye of his dam.

Foopsy-The adorable little Falabella mare that Xander owns and is only one of many from his minis' herd. He absolutely adores her and is his longest-lasting from an abandoned ranch since the others from her original herd unfortunately passed due to neglect and other health-related problems. She proved to be a sturdy and hardy girl, pushing through her own issues as she was nursed back to health and gave Xander a want to help Nash with rescues he brought back. They have grand games of chase around the property but their favorite activity is naps under a tree in the summer (it makes for some of the cutest photos in Grayson's photo albums). She is a light grey leopard coated horse but certainly Xander's loudest mini.

Also, I want to dedicate this headcanon in honor of my friend @hathorneheiress who has been a big help to me in times when I was losing hope on some of my longest standing drafts that I wanted to get out for you guys to enjoy. She is a great inspiration to me, a wonderful writer, and the most lovely enthusiast of a fanfic bestie I could ask for. Please check out her stuff, she has given great alternative fiction to our faves in this fandom and she deserves some more recognition. Thank you all as always! Bye.

#nash westbrook hawthorne #grayson davenport hawthorne #jameson winchester hawthorne #xander blackwood hawthorne #skye hawthorne #zara hawthorne calligaris #toby hawthorne #tobias tattersall hawthorne #hawthorne brothers #hawthorne horses #hawthorne shenanigans #hawthorne headcanons #animal headcanons #the inheritance games animal headcanons #the inheritance games #tig

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kimberly40 · 7 months

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Goldenrod Magical Uses and Folklore:

Various legends tie goldenrod to the presence of wealth. One source said that, wherever goldenrod grows, gold is buried. Another says that to find goldenrod growing near your home portends a spell of good luck.

Goldenrod is also tied to water. Folklore holds that, wherever it grows, a spring must be nearby. The plants were also used as effective, if temperamental, divining rods — they were said to only work in the hands of the right person.

One legend tells the story of how goldenrod received its bright yellow flowers. An old woman, traveling through the forest, was growing weary. She asked all of the trees around her for a walking stick, but they refused. She found a small stick on the ground, and asked it for help instead. The stick agreed, and she used it as a walking stick until she was out of the woods. As soon as she stepped beyond the tree line, she shed her disguise — revealing herself as a powerful fairy. In return for the stick’s help, she sprinkled it with gold.

Another story speaks of two little girls who went to an old witch for help. One girl, tall and blonde haired, asked the witch to grant her wish. She wanted to be admired by everyone. Her friend, short and blue-eyed, wished that she and the blonde girl would never have to grow apart. The girls were never seen again after that day, but it’s said that, wherever they walked, there sprung up the yellow goldenrod and the blue aster.

This isn’t folklore so much, but the tires on the Model T Ford that Henry Ford gave Thomas Edison were made of goldenrod. The plant naturally contains a decent amount of rubber — through experimentation, Thomas Edison managed to produce a taller goldenrod that was up to 12% rubber. He partnered with Henry Ford, George Washington Carver, and Henry Firestone to put these tires into mass production, but synthetic rubber arrived on the scene before goldenrod tires ever made it out of the experimental stage.

Goldenrod is one of those plants that seems to be an herbal pharmacy in itself. In America, indigenous people used the leaves externally for skin conditions, and internally for ulcers and lung or kidney problems. After colonists dumped tea into the Boston Harbor in protest, they used goldenrod as a tea substitute.

Studies in Germany have found that it’s an effective treatment for kidney stones. It contains compounds that encourage urination, reduce inflammation, soothe pain, and kill pathogens, and the whole plant is edible (though easily confused with toxic Haplopappus heterophyllus, so be careful).

(From Marble Crow)

#folklore #appalachian #appalachian mountains #north carolina #appalachian culture #appalachia #western north carolina #the south #goldenrod

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