Herons, a fanfic - Nov 15

Obligatory disclaimer: real life sucks, so here's a brief Tolkien-based drabble instead: 

Across the multiverse…

Once upon a time, there was a war of wrath.

And the Valar burned the strongholds of Morgoth in the North to the ground.

And little was left of it, but ashes. …Ok, ashes, and the survivors, fleeing to all the four corners of the Middle-Earth.

And the Valar, the Maiar, and the rest of their allies were about to pursue them, when something else arose from the ashes: a flock of birds, long-necked, long-limbed, long-beaked, with large wings, clad in feathers of ash-grey. The birds circled once, twice, three times over the remnants of Morgoth’s fallen fortress and flew away, across the Middle-Earth, for they were the first herons of this world.

The Valar and the Maiar, (in particular, the Maia who would be later known as Radagast the Brown), just stared at the open-mouthed and open-eyed, for this was the first good news since Morgoth was defeated for good now. And as they stared and discussed among themselves the new development, someone else made good on their escape – Sauron, (of course).

“Well, this was a lark,” he thought to himself, as he made his own way across Middle-Earth, to his own secret hideout, (unknown to anyone else, good or bad). “Now it’s off to execute my next plan – one to take over the world!

End

Big Paul, a story - Oct 8

Obligatory disclaimer: real life sucks, so here's a story for you instead:

 It was dark now. Big Paul, a veteran sheepdog, was already at guard, guarding the sheep. (Hey, what did you expect?) It was still relatively early after sunset, so everything was quiet, though not too quiet, and Big Paul could already smell someone familiar.

“Red,” Big Paul called out to that specific someone. “Come out of the grass – I can smell you!”

“Yes you can,” Red, a male red fox, did look out of the grass, though he kept his distance, given the size difference between himself and Big Paul. “So what? I am not harassing your sheep, and there are not even any lambs. Piss off!”

Big Paul frowned. “This is what I want to talk to you about,” he told Red. “Everyone and everything seem to be more on edge lately than normally; is it because of the dry spell, or not-?”

Big Paul did not finish, as a breeze brought a wisp of a scent to him – bobcat! Big Paul had his own opinion of the wildcat – unlike red foxes, bobcats were quite capable of killing even adult sheep, (if they got lucky), and this particular bobcat, after Big Paul barred her path, went after him, and almost killed him, if the sheepdog hadn’t been able to break out of her grasp and bark a frantic alarm, bringing forth his master with the gun. The bobcat got away, regardless, and Big Paul was in no hurry to relive this experience, and so he immediately whirled around, ready to bark an alarm – but there was no sign of the bobcat.

A dry branch cracked under a heavy foot – this was no fox or even wolf, let alone a wildcat. Big Paul whirled back – Red was long gone, it looked like – and came face to face with a bear.

“Hello,” he said evenly, trying to keep his voice from shaking and himself from backing away. Big Paul succeeded at this, mostly.

“A dog,” the bear – a black bear rather than brown, but it did not matter here, not particularly – did not sound impressed, for his part. “A sheepdog. Step aside, dog, for I want to eat a sheep”. Even as he was speaking, the bear was standing upright, upon his hind legs, giving himself a further height advantage – one that was uncalled and unnecessary, in Big Paul’s opinion. 

Big Paul took a deep breath. “I cannot let you do this,” he began, when the bear grabbed him with the forepaws and lifted the sheepdog up to his own eye level. 

Looking into the bear’s eyes, all but glowing from insanity and hunger, Big Pau realized that this was it, the end of the line, he was going to be eaten alive in the line of duty, and the bear’s grasp of him over the ribs was so firm that Big Paul could not even bark a warning-

The bobcat came flying out of the night, a ghost of grey and reddish-brown colors. She dug all of her claws into the bear’s shoulder and bit down with all of her disproportionate might into the bear’s ear. 

The bear roared – and unlike the bobcat, he was overly loud… or maybe it was just Big Paul’s opinions, as the infuriated giant flung him away. Still, every cloud has a silver lining, theoretically, as the sheepdog’s master appeared on the scene and discharged his gun.

The bear dropped.

On all fours.

The gun in question was loaded with small shot, more suitable for smaller animals such as foxes and bobcats, (also the occasional hare, squirrel, and gamebird, but due to his loyalty, Big Paul ignored his master’s lapses), not so much for wolves or deer, and certainly not for bears. 

To make matters worse, the bear’s hide was covered in all sorts of things, from pine needles to pine tar, and so he felt the shot, but little more – and so he charged at Big Paul’s master.

It took every bit of the sheepdog’s strength and speed to slam into the bear, only for the better to slam him away with barely a recognition before biting into the master’s gun – hard. With a fading sight, Big Paul was barely able to register-

BAH

-the herd of sheep, led by the rams, slamming hard into the bear’s flank, knocking him over and trampling him.

“Say what?” was the last thing the sheepdog thought, before he fainted.

<i>Epilogue…</i>

It was night once more. Big Paul – bandaged over the ribs – was standing watch over the sheep once more. The sheep, the entire herd, were in their enclosure once more. Red the red fox was sniffing around the neighbourhood once more.

“What happened?” Big Paul asked the fox now that the bear seemed to be gone.

“After I helped the muzzles open the sheep gate, the sheep charged and trampled the bear, distracting him long enough for the rest of the humans to arrive and deal with him,” Red replied.

“The muzzles?” Big Paul blinked as he looked around – and sure enough, there was the bobcat, flanked by two or three younger and smaller versions of her. This was not the best situation Big Paul wanted to be in.

“Bah!” one of the younger rams bleated through the fence of their enclosure. The bobcats immediately whirled around and stared at him – and the ram promptly fled from the fence.

“Listen,” Big Paul sighed. “For better or worse, I owe you one, so here’s some advice – don’t.”

The bobcats immediately whirled back to him. Unlike the ram, the sheepdog did not back down. “Listen, me and my master, we aren’t alone right now, we got back-up because of the bear attack,” he pointed, with his muzzle, at the human dwelling – lights and human voices were coming through the window, and two younger and less experienced sheepdog were playing next to it. “You won’t be able to handle everyone, especially with a sheep-“

“The summer is a bad one, and a dry one. There’s almost nothing left to eat now,” the bobcat vocally responded to Big Paul for the first time since they learned of each other, and her voice was emotionless and dry. “We have to eat or we’ll starve.”

“It is out of my paws,” Big Paul said sadly, even as he sat down onto his haunches and howled. “Ahoy there, Big Dog in the Sky! Can you help them – can you help us out, please?”

The wind picked up. It blew through the skies, bringing storm clouds with it, and then they burst with rain. The rain washed away the dust and the dirt, invigorating the plants and the small animals – frogs and toads, newts and lizards, mice and voles. When it stopped, night flowers were opening, moths were flying around, and everything felt more invigorated and lovely already. 

“…I didn’t expect this to happen,” the sheepdog told his interlocutors, but they were already gone.

<i>End?</i>

Quarantine entry #116 - July 15

Obligatory disclaimer: real life sucks. So, what shall we talk about, today?

I must admit that I have no idea; the last weeks have been rather exhausting and draining and depressing and worrisome, so you know what? Here is a piece of my fiction for you to enjoy. Any comments and criticisms are welcome all the same:

All of this was a long, long time ago.

This was at the beginning, and at the beginning, there was chaos. Boundless, boundless, formless, it spread from the beginning to the end, and then… something happened in it. Order was conceived in chaos, and chaos began to be divided after all – into air and land, water and flame. Life was conceived in chaos - and Mother Earth, Mother Gaea, came to be.

Mother Earth stretched itself from edge to edge, and she divided the entire other world into top and bottom halves. In addition, beneath mother, Gaea laid gloomy Tartarus, and there Mother Night, Nyx, came to be. Meanwhile Gaea gave birth to Pontus the sea, she gave birth to woodlands and mountains, fields and plains, and she gave birth to Uranus the Sky. The Sky, the mountains and the Sea were born from Gaea and they have no father.

In addition, powerful Uranus the Sky fell in love with Mother Gaea. From their union came Hemera the bright Day and the three Cyclops fathers – Arg, Steropes and Brontes – came from the union and so have the three hundred-headed and hundred-armed giants, the hecatoncheires, and finally, from that union came the six first titans and six first titanesses. Mother Gaea smiled, looking at their children, but Uranus frowned sternly, he did not like them at all. Uranus imprisoned his children in the depths of Tartarus, and from the injustice of this act, from the grief that arose from that act, from Mother Earth's salty maternal tears, a new metal, adamantium, was born – the metal that was greater than all other metals.

In addition, the three eldest Cyclops – Arg, Steropes and Brontes – told their brothers and sisters:

"We can, o our brothers' hecatoncheires and titans, o our sisters-titanesses, forge from the adamantium metal a sickle that will bring down our father, Uranus. But who will wield it?"

However, the other children of Uranus and Gaea were silent, only the youngest of titans, the fair-haired Chronus, said finally:

"I. I will take it."

Therefore, the first Cyclops-blacksmiths began to forge the sickle from the adamantium. Sparks and shards of metal spread from their first forge throughout Tartarus. All-seeing Night, Nyx the Dark looked at this deed, smiling her mocking smile, and she breathed upon these sparks and shards, and from them the other Cyclops, smaller and weaker than their three forefathers (but looking just like them), came to be, and from the smoke and the stench Erebus, the eternal gloom of Tartarus, was born.

The Cyclops, children of Gaea and Uranus, worked long and worked hard. Their children – the lesser Cyclops – aided and assisted them. Their brothers and sisters looked at this in wonder and marvelled, only the young titan, Chronus, looked at the creation of the lesser Cyclops with envy, since he did not know how to create as the Cyclops did. However, no one saw this, only Nyx the Dark, herself invisible and inaudible, saw this - and she stayed silent.

In addition, the Cyclops finished their creation, and with a bow, they gave to it to Chronus. Chronus took it silently - and his face was gloomier than the face of Erebus, and he went upward from Tartarus. Rocks lay in heaps on his way - Chronus cut them with his sickle, and the first avalanches fell upon Mother Earth. Tangles of everlasting roots blocked his path – Chronus cut through them with his sickle, and the first dead trees fell onto Mother Earth. Paths of underground rivers lay in his paths – Chronus cut through them with his sickle, and rivers dried out on Mother Earth, and the first drought came forth into the world.

In addition, Chronus came into the middle-world, he straightened out to his full, titanic height, he yelled with the full power of his voice, calling their father to battle. In addition, Uranus frowned, and daylight faded, and thunderstorms and blizzards, winds, storms and clouds, came to battle with Chronus. However, Chronus swung his sickle once, cutting the foul weather apart with it, and Chronus waved his sickle twice - and the first rainbow was born into the world, blood of Uranus was spilled, straight from his cloven body, and his blood came into the middle-world.

This blood fell into Pontus the Sea, and white foam boiled in the sea, and from it came the fair Aphrodite, the powerful goddess of love. She danced on the waves of the sea – and the first love came into the world.

This blood fell onto Mother Earth, and Mother- Earth conceived from Uranus for the last time: she gave birth to nymphs - dryads, hamadryads, and all the others, and she gave birth to giants, the last, passionate theomachists, she it gave birth to three Furies, 3 winged virgins, Aphrodite's terrible sisters.

In addition, some of Uranus' blood was spilled into Tartarus - but at that, time from there emerged powerful titans, and beautiful titanesses, and here they beheld Aphrodite's wonderful dance, and blood boiled in them from desire, and blood boiled from desire in Chronus. However, his blood was poisoned by his envy, he waved his sickle – Mother Earth, Gaea, shuddered, and the exit from Tartarus was brought down - neither the powerful hecatoncheires nor the artful smiths the Cyclops could leave from there. In addition, Mother Earth said to the three Furies:

"You there fly there, I do not know where, and you bring here Nemesis!"

The Furies flew unseen and unnoticed by the celebrating titans; the Furies flew to the western edge of the middle-earth, there, where the kingdom of Night was located. In addition, they exclaimed in loud voices:

"Mother Dark Night, you release Nemesis into our world!"

Nyx the Night said nothing to them, but only smiled. In addition, the Furies exclaimed once again:

"Mother Dark Night, release Nemesis to help us!"

Nyx the Night still said nothing, only smiled. In addition, the Furies exclaimed for the third time:

"Mother Dark Night, by the command of Mother Earth, release Nemesis to aid us – to punish perfidious Chronus!"

Nyx the night smiled for the third time, she only clapped her palms - Nemesis, the daughter of Night from the blood of Uranus that was spilled into Tartarus, came to the edge of the world. Then Nemesis flapped her eagle wings, she flew after the three sisters to the middle-earth.

In addition, there was a celebratory feast – as wide as the entire world. Aphrodite-Love was dancing throughout the entire world, wherever she only looked, wherever she would just flap her fair wing, [new, unprecedented life came to be – the oceanids and the nereids, the phaeacans and the centaurs, the satyrs and the fauns, the tree-folk, Lapiths, and the Amazons, and many, many others. Yet, as titanesses and titans danced Aphrodite's dance, they too gave birth to many new other titans - Helios and Selene, Astraia and Eos, and many, many others.

Chronus danced, and he danced with his sister Rhea, the favorite of their mother Gaea. However, invisible, Nemesis-Retribution flew by him in the guise of a cuckoo; she sat on a hill before Chronus and cried:

"Chronus, Chronus, you are powerful, you rise above the clouds, as the head of Uranus fell off, so will yours!"

Chronus shook and the Furies were already here as well! Sister Alecto was disguised as an eagle owl, she sat on the left side of the titans, and she started to bellow:

"Hoo, hoo, boo, boo! All earthly is only dust and ashes! You were carried upwards by wind, by wind you will fall back into Tartarus, hoo!"

Sister Megara was disguised as a black raven, she sat on the right side of the titan and she cawed:

"Caw, caw you have a flaw! You conquered Uranus, and before long your son will conquer you, caw!"

Sister Tisiphone was disguised as a black woodpecker; she sat on top of Chronus' head and began to drum it! The titan's mind grew dark, and fear with envy boiled in his veins, darkened his eyes, yet alas - no one saw this, no one heard it: Aphrodite of the sea, the white swan, has blocked everyone's ears, covered everyone's eyes!

In addition, Chronus, the conqueror of Uranus, went mad. In addition, here Rhea came to show him their eldest daughter – Chronus swallowed her. Afterward he swallowed their other children, two sons and two other daughters. In addition, a third son was born to Rhea. In addition, here to her came the whisper:

"Rhea, you can keep your last child! Hide him on Crete, in the mountains of Gaea with their ancient magic! You can ask the local nymphs, the nurses of the Curetes, for aid! Take care to save your last child from Chronus!"

In addition, Rhea listened to that whisper, and she heeded this whisper's advice. Maybe, it was indeed a whisper of Mother Earth, who wanted to help her favorite, and possibly that it was the whisper of Nemesis. But Rhea obeyed that whisper, and she hid her last child in the Cretan mountains, and to her husband she gave a fake, a stone covered in diapers - and no one saw that, dark night has hid that, and Chronus then fell asleep, tired, contented.

But people say that Nemesis, in the guise of a swallow, flew away from Chronus' palace, she flew off and came to the cave of Zeus, son of Chronus and Rhea, grandson of Uranus and Gaea. Was that so or not - no one knows, but Zeus, son of Chronus, grew in his cave not at a daily, but an hourly rate. In addition, after growing up, he said:

"Not for a son of Chronus to sit like a rock in the cave – time for me to go and meet my father –Chronus, to look at other gods, to show off myself."

He said that - and disappeared, dissolved in the dark blue of the Cretan skies. Soon a new cupbearer appeared in Chronus' palace, ever smiling, with locks as white as clouds and with eyes the color of celestial dark blue. With a white-toothed smile, he gave wine to the guests of Chronus, to titanesses and to titans, and he reached Chronus as well. Recklessly did the titan drink the dark wine – and trembling with his entire body he spat - and spat the stone out. The stone was spat far away – it flew through one-half of the world, it fell accurately into the world's middle, and came right through the middle-world: it went through Hades, the land of the dead, and the dark Tartarus, and this stone, Omphalos, the navel of the world, reached even the great Abyss!

In addition, Chronus, maddened by Nemesis and the three Furies, drank again. Trembling with his entire body - he spat out two of his eldest sons, Poseidon and Hades. They landed flew away – Hades landed in the land of the dead, Poseidon – in the realm of Nereus, the ocean.

In addition, the lunatic finished drinking the remainders of that cup. His innards shuddered, he spat out his daughters, he collapsed in unconsciousness - and off his arms and his head departed the Furies, the dark birds, they circled once around him, and following Nemesis, they left the palace. Therefore, no one saw the fall of the daughters of Chronus. Of Demeter as she fell among clear and wide fields of wheat, of Hestia - into the burning center of the palace, of Hera - straight in arms of Zeus.

The mighty son of Chronus, Zeus, grabbed Hera tightly, and from that unexpected weight, he stamped his foot - throughout the world that rumble was heard, it reached even the underworld. That rumble, their hands rose as numerous as rivers, roused the powerful hecatoncheires and they cleared their way from Tartarus, created by Omphalos! They went into the light, and after them came their brothers the Cyclops, the blacksmiths of underground world, and they brought their nephews their gifts.

To the eldest son, to Hades, came the helmet of the invisibility: whoever bears this helmet is invisible to the gods, and people, and monsters. To the middle son, to Poseidon, came the trident, the cold lightning: the trident goes to one side - sea will boil with storms, and if it goes another side - the calm will fall onto the sea. However, to the youngest son, to Zeus, son of Chronus came the royal sceptre – the deafening thunderbolt, intolerable for all in the terrestrial and celestial worlds. Only the subterranean Cyclops and the powerful hecantocheires, only Nyx the night and Erebus the gloom do not fear it.

In addition, Zeus waved the thunderbolt and Chronus fell from his mountain palace, his brothers, who fled from his palace, were brought down further along the road as Chronus fell downwards. Once more rose the hands of the hecatoncheires, they grabbed their brothers the titans, they took away them down into Tartarus - to the end of time, with the songs of Nemesis-Retribution singing in their ears: "What you reap is what you sow!"

Three times then flew Nemesis in the guise of cuckoo around Zeus and Hera. At their feet, then grew a copper tree with silver leaves and gold apples - whether Gaea, Mother Earth grew it, or whether the Cyclops had tried once again. Zeus the hero accepted this miracle-tree as his and Hera's gift. And people said, that before their wedding night Hera ate one such apple - and from her union with Zeus came Hephaestus, the first blacksmith and the expert of all the ores, and Ares, the first soldier, who sent numerous souls to uncle Hades into the land of the Dead, and Eris, the goddess of Discord. That is another tale...

...Well, this is it for now. See you all soon! 

Quarantine entry #113 - July 12

Obligatory disclaimer: real life sucks, so let us talk about ‘The Old Guard’ instead with as much of spoilers avoided as possible.

It is a good film, and an enjoyable one; one that is not too strongly affiliated with DC or Marvel or whatever. The cast is good and the plot is, yes, ‘borrowed’ from the original comic series, but is still delivered well enough.

More precisely, ‘The Old Guard’ is a good, enjoyable film. Does it have flaws? Yes, it is not exactly bees’ knees all the way, but it certainly is not anywhere as bad as ‘Cats-2019’, ‘Dolittle-2020’ or ‘Artemis Fowl-2020’ were. Even ‘Like a Boss’ (also 2020) is almost better than those films, and ‘Like a Boss’ is quite insipid itself.

On a more detailed look… yes, ‘The Old Guard’ is very reminiscent of the ‘Highlander’ franchise, though, again, both the movie script writers and the original comic writers did their best to also put in plenty of differences from the latter, so ‘The Old Guard’ does come off as quite original despite the overall similarities between the two. It also ends with a cliffhanger, which means a positive, optimistic note for the movie franchise’s future, but you know? Plenty of failed films, from the 1990s onwards, ended with those as well, (such as ‘The Mario Brothers’ film from the aforementioned 90s). Anything else?

…Will I be watching any sequels for ‘The Old Guard’ should they come out, (and there isn’t another COVID-19-level emergency around)? Well, yes. It is certainly an enjoyable film, and if the sequels will be just as good, I will download them as well. Anything else?

Sadly, this is it, so instead I am giving you a piece of my original fiction instead. Here it goes:

The chase was long and very lively. The Dilophosaurus, which became independent only a little while ago - until recently, he had lived with his mother, and fed and hunted alongside her, but now it was time for him to become an independent grown-up - was fleeing quite quickly from a herd of Anchisaurus, a species of pro-sauropod dinosaurs. At this moment in time - it was the early Jurassic, around 200 MYA - the pro-sauropods were only humble forerunners of the great reptilian giants that would arise on the planet 50 million years in the future from now, but speaking of 'now'? The Anchisaurus herd numbered easily a dozen dinosaurs, and the Dilophosaurus was on his own.

...True, under normal circumstances, the situation would not have been too difficult; the numbers would not have mattered: a Dilophosaurus would ambush the pro-sauropods with their attack and the dim-witted herbivores would flee, while the theropods feasted. The Dilophosaurus of this story did exactly that, but the Anchisaurus herd by accident fled in his direction, and now he had to run away instead.

At the edge of his sight the Dilophosaurus, (unlike the later theropods - Allosaurus, Tyrannosaurus - the Dilophosaurus' eyes were located more to the sides of the head), noted some movement there and instinctively jumped in this direction.

He made it just in time. A pack of Megapnosaurus, smaller distant cousins of the Dilophosaurus, appeared on the scene: apparently, the nominal pack leader tried to ambush the bigger carnivore, while the latter was distracted, and the rest of Megapnosaurus followed... The leader had missed; it had only stirred up the rest of the pack in vain, and confused the Anchisaurus even more: the pro-sauropod herd sharply shifted the angle of their race and fled in a different direction...

In addition, the Megapnosaurus looked around and were confronted by the Dilophosaurus, which had recovered from his fright, listened to the noises in his stomach, and realized that he was hungry - and therefore angry. Megapnosaurus numbered many, Dilophosaurus - only one, but he was the bigger and stronger dinosaur here, and in the early Jurassic, when the dinosaurs were only beginning to evolve into the upcoming lords of the planet, this was enough. The Dilophosaurus charged at the nearest Megapnosaurus and tore into it literally, eating it while the smaller theropod was technically still alive. The remaining pack of the smaller carnivores fled...

...Many millions of years later, when the paleontologists, who were running the dig, made a discovery - petrified tracks of pro-sauropods, and of one or two species of theropods, plus theropod, (of single or several specimens?), bones scattered all over the territory in question. The discussion about just what had happened here went for a long time...

End

This is it for now. Comments? Criticisms?

Quarantine entry #105 - July 4

Obligatory disclaimer: real life sucks. Yesterday, we had an argument/fight again. I hate those, but, sadly, it seems to me that the main way that anything changes in our family is through conflict, which brings us to arguments slash fights. I hate those, but they are unavoidable and necessary. Pity that COVID-19 made everything worse. What next?

As we are starting to finish our bird of prey talk, let us turn to owls instead. There are two types of owls – the ‘true’ owls and the barn owls. The latter differ from the true owls by coloration, and their ‘facial disk’, (if you ever saw an owl, any owl, on a photo, you would know what we are talking about), is proportionally larger and whiter than that of a ‘true’ owl. In addition, the barn owls and their relatives are generally paler than their cousins are, and finally, they have no ‘horns’.

…The horns, of course, as tufts of feathers that grow on heads of such different owl species as the screech owl, the long-horned owl, and the great horned owl, among others. Sometimes they are barely noticeable, as they are in case of the short-horned owl, or even more so – in case of the snowy owl, but they can be there. Most scientists, (ornithologists and otherwise) agree, that these tufts serve no practical purpose, but are more of a decorative feature on those owls. Maybe it helps them in courting each other?.. The point is that no member of the barn owl family has those tufts, but some ‘true’ owls do. What next?

Owls swallow their smaller prey whole, and spit up what they cannot digest as pellets. Some other birds do that as well, from hawks to the nightjars, (also known as nighthawks, but they are completely separate birds from the birds of prey), but it still isn’t entirely certain as to just who are the owls’ relatives? In addition, the modern classification revision does not make it any better, either.

…Yes, there was a revision of avian taxonomy sometime in the past, (unlike the mammal, which appears to be a more modern development). I missed it, and so I’m not going to dwell upon it; basically, the point is that the owls’ similarity to hawks, falcons, eagles, vultures and so on is only superficial and practically skin-deep – the two groups of birds are able to co-exist, but only because the owls are nocturnal. Yes, they can see during the day, but they are not doing as well during that time, as the other birds’ mob them, and in some case – as in cases of the corvids – those birds themselves can be quite big. Anything else?

Here is a piece of original fiction to round up today’s entry instead. I hope that you will enjoy it:

Once upon a time, when a red fox and a hare were busy with an eagle owl, a different bird, a great grey owl, was sitting on a different tree at a different spot where the forest met the open field, and it too was busy hunting.

Any owl is Meta - they got soft feathers, silent wings that make no noise whatsoever; their talons are twisted and sharp- no one can escape from them, not a mouse, not a squirrel, not a sleeping bird. This particular great grey owl was hunting mice.

...It is still late winter and mice are hidden from sight by a thick layer of snow, but an owl’s hearing is sharp enough to penetrate it, and the great grey owl has specifically long legs to reach through the snow. There! There a mouse is scurrying. The owl spread its’ wings and launched a spectacular aerial attack right through the snow.

The snow exploded. This particular mouse made its’ winter home in a bear’s den, and the owl, unwittingly, scored a perfect hit on the bear’s nose. (It was hard to reach, but those long legs and sharp talons are good for something).

The still mostly asleep bear was not amused. With one shake of its’ massive head it was free, with one snap of its’ huge jaws it snapped the owl up and sank back beneath the snow to wait for the proper end of winter. The end.

PS: Oh, and the mouse was in another corner of the den, sleeping its’ own nap in its’ own home, lined with the bear’s fur because it was small enough to get away with this - but that is another story.

End

This is it for now. See you all soon! Comments? Criticisms?

Quarantine entry #79 - May 8

Obligatory disclaimer: real life sucks. On this particular occasion, we are talking about the natural world once more: Canada is about to be ‘invaded’ by the giant hogweed of all plants!..

What is a giant hogweed? For those that do not know, it is a perennial herbaceous flowering plant can grow up to 5 m in height, and cause 3^rd-degree burns; essentially, is the Asian giant hornet was a plant, it would be a giant hogweed.

 Initially, the giant hogweed grew in the Caucasus region of Europe; from there, it reached across the Old World, and then – to North America, aka the New World. Apparently, it is a trait of the Heracleum genus, as at least two other hogweed species – Sosnowsky’s and Persian – did something similar to the giant hogweed; it isn’t certain if they’d become established in the U.S. and Canada, but they are considered to be invasive species in parts of Europe all the same. Anything else?

…New Zealand is supposedly free of COVID-19 – officially. Whether or not this will come true for real is another matter, but for now? Lucky bastards; at least Canada and U.S. are finally may be beginning to open parts of their border for real now. Yay! Maybe I will be coming home now…but given how sucky real life is, I would not count on it, or perhaps, I should clarify:

When I come home, it will not be up to my plans, but rather, it will be a hollow victory, one that will steal all of the joy from this achievement, and as such, I do not look forwards toward it as I should.

No, really, just look – after the COVID-19 outbreak, we had an Asian giant hornet invasion; we have a giant hogweed invasion; we have civil unrest, because everyone is bored stiff about at the COVID-19; we got the election-2020 on one hand, and whatever the Hell the top brass in Ottawa is thinking on the other. Yes, going home shall be good, but somehow I am quite certain that real life will create a way of ruining it, period. And that  is before pointing out that the self-isolation is not really over, a large chunk of social life is still locked down, and is it any surprise that the civil unrest in North America is still being largely uncontrolled?

…Okay, ‘uncontrolled’ might be the wrong word here: in the U.S., ‘civil unrest’ is slowly transfiguring into a police reform, while in Canada? That is blurrier; it might be just a way for Canadians to blow-off steam, while the top brass in Ottawa decides as to where it goes from there, which brings us to the honorary mention of the U.K., whose COVID-19 misadventures appear to have buried the matter of Brexit… at least for now.

This – kind of, sort of – returns us back to the U.S., for as we have talked before, the U.K. Brexit would be most beneficial… to the U.S., for reasons that we have discussed before, but now the COVID-19/George Floyd civil unrest combination has ended it all for good…at least for now.

What next? Hard to say. Life goes on, and today I wanted to return to the domestic cat once more. Only… all of the latest news, about the giant hogweed and whatnot had pushed me out of mind frame, so here is a brief drabble about the lynx instead:

A lynx lurks in a dark forest, next to a sylvan path. Though a cousin of the house cat, it is more of a large dog in size. A lynx’s tail is short, its’ ears got tufts on tips, its’ hide is mottled. This lynx in question is lying on a tree branch, waiting... Do not go past this tree, or the lynx will get you. It will lunge at anyone, straight from the tree!

End

PS: This is it for now – see you all soon!

Quarantine entry #67 - May 27

Obligatory disclaimer: real life sucks. I do not even feel angry about it, I feel empty. Pause.

First, an alert – now, I will not be reviewing AoS S7, because it is not accessible to me. The lockdown shook everything up, and while lack of TV access is one of the least problems ever, it still makes a mark.

Secondly, today is the sort of a day that feels anything but good. An 85- and 86-year-old veteran couple were gunned down earlier this week. Wonderful. Four Minnesota police officers, (now fired), abused the Afro-American that they have arrested so badly, that he died in the hospital. Bully. Did the story of A.A. fail to teach them anything? Apparently, yes. Ergo, here is another piece of my original fiction for my entry for this day, because I honestly cannot come up with a good idea as to what creature is to discuss today – it is that sucky, (though better than yesterday, which had been sweltering hot instead):

…The donkey stood in the overgrown field. Somehow, he got to be tied up, even though there were no humans around.

“Hello, Mr. Donkey,” the kitten said cheerfully, even as the other animals held back due to the donkey’s incessant cries of “Hee-haw!”. “Are you hungry?”

The bigger animal actually stopped shouting and gave the kitten a look. “...Shouldn’t the two of you be inside the home, anyhow, or has the author decide to put humans into our story after all?” He finally asked, somehow sounding more British than the other animals did, (and they sounded more American).

“No, but if you give the girl a ride I’ll set you free anyhow,” the dog replied cheerfully, instead of the kitten.

The donkey gave him a flat look: “I like to see you try,” was what he said.

The dog exchanged looks with his new friends. “Do it,” the mother cat finally said. “We might as well see beforehand.” Therefore, the dog complied.

...The leather cord burst with a snap. The donkey came free, and began to prance around, channeling his inner horse. (The horse in question was actually nearby, having some sort of a race with the hare and his rabbit cousins - who knows why?) The dog backed down, wincing, and actually looking hurt. 

The mother cat rolled her eyes, muttered something about men in general, and began to lick the dog to make him feel better.

“Mr. Donkey?” The kitten asked again, sounding insistent.

The donkey stopped prancing like a colt and gave the trio a thoughtful look. “Fine,” he replied at last. “A promise is a promise, after all, even though I am rather hungry...”

“Oh men,” the mother cat sighed, as she went through the hole in the fourth wall and rolled several baobab fruits briefly later. “There! Will they do?”

The donkey ate the fruit. “...Right,” he said some time later and carefully allowed the kitten to climb onto him. “Let’s give you a ride, shall we?” In addition, this was what he did, while being gentle, and keeping on the horse - but that is another story.

Well, this is it for now. See you all soon!

Quarantine entry #66 - May 26

Obligatory disclaimer: real life sucks, though it is weird sometimes – for example, there is a granny of a singer, who is both over 90, and owns over a dozen of mature and fully-grown lions and tigers, (though not bears, apparently – somehow, she had missed them). The good singer is actually half-boasting about that – I am guessing she is waiting for the mammals to eat the granny and then be acquitted, because they are, well, animals, and are not really subjected to the American law…and if they are euthanized or whatever when the granny gets eaten, it’s no skin off the singer’s nose either – win-win. What next?

The province of Ontario – during the long weekend – broke all of the rules of social distancing, yet they still want the borders with U.S. closed. Imbeciles. This is why I hate other people too, and not just myself. Ergo, let us talk about the other animals instead – and how about the walrus?

…Yes, we’ve talked about the walrus a long time ago, when we’ve discussed the AFO episode ‘Polar bear vs. Walrus’ – remember it?.. but first, here is a shout-out to NatGeo’s latest mini TV-series, ‘Barkskins’, which we’ve mentioned earlier as well. This is a fairly decent and enjoyable drama, and a pleasant change from ‘The Wrong Missy’ and ‘The Lovebirds’ that we’ve discussed earlier.

As for the walrus itself…where to start? The walrus is the biggest pinniped of the Northern Hemisphere – males can reach up to 4 m in length and weigh up to 2 metric tons. Despite its physical similarity with the eared seals, (aka fur seals & sea lions) rather than the true seals, the walrus is in its own group, not exactly too close to either of the seal groups, and it is a single species, with two or three subspecies, (scientists are not sure about the number).

The walruses prefer to live in the shallows of the northern seas, where they feed on bottom-dwelling sea animals – molluscs, worms, crustaceans, etc. There are stories about walrus orphans that became full carnivores, but that evidence is anecdotal, and in the last few decades there wasn’t any new ones, so that is probably a salty sea tale or whatever.

Once, the walruses lived all over the Arctic waters, living in herds of hundreds, if not thousands of animals. Now, however, their numbers have fallen – even with the conservation efforts, the global warming is affecting them as well as the polar bears, and the walrus females are not that much more fertile than their polar bear counterparts are – they become sexually mature only at four to five years of age, and give birth to new pups only every three to four years. The pups in question grow slowly – for the first two years they feed only on milk, but during that time, they grow up to 2 m in length and over 300 kg in weight.

…The walruses supposedly grow until they reach about 20 years of age, and they live for a very long time, if they survived their initial childhood. Humans aside, the only animals that mess with fully grown walruses are killer whales and polar bears – and it’s a mixed bag with polar bears, (they prefer to go after walrus pups and females, not the mature males, and if they can afford it, they go for seals instead), and as for killer whales… I have not seen much evidence of killer whale on walrus attacks, so I am guessing that they would rather eat anything else than a walrus first, especially a mature male one.

Finally, here is a piece of the original fiction about it instead:

A walrus is a big and heavy beast. It looks like a bag of blubber, but got plenty of brawn too.

A walrus has two ivory tusks jutting from beneath the bristly moustache. It got flippers instead of feet, too. A walrus is an aquatic beast.

A walrus will dive deep and graze on the sea floor like a cow on a meadow. It eats seaweed and mollusks, and once it is done, the walrus will emerge, grab an ice floe or the shoreline with its tusks and get out of the water completely. It will lie down and sleep.

… Well, this is it for now. See you all soon!

Quarantine entry #59 - May 19

Obligatory disclaimer: real life sucks. In particular, the COVID-19 lockdown got prolonged for another month – until June 2020, so here is a big middle finger to all of those who made this decision; I do not know as to how Doug Ford was involved in it, directly or otherwise, but I’m sure that he was, so there!

…Aye, on the other hand, J.C. from the team Snowbirds has it worse – she died. She took the risks and she died. What risks, you may ask? Well, from 1974 until now – that’s 46 years, almost half a century – the Snowbirds’ jets crashed every few years, so the odds were in odds of another crash now or sometime soon, and so it happened, last weekend, (aka May 17, 2020), and so Ms. J.C. died, and her partner broke both of his legs while escaping the crash. Canada! Canada! …And the woman’s from Halifax, Nova Scotia, aka the province where a certain mass shooting has occurred earlier this year already. Seriously, can we go back to the Asian giant hornets now?..

That said, because my personal state of affairs is derived from my family issues, (and I am not, admittedly, ready to share them on this blog online), here, instead, a piece of original fiction from yours truly. Enjoy!

Once upon a time, there was a mother rabbit, and she had two little bunnies...

The mother rabbit in question was not happy. The dog in the backyard was scary enough, (especially for a little rabbit), but the presence of cats was something else. True, the older feline preferred just to sit on the kennel roof, while her kitten played with the dog, but a mother rabbit is a worry-wart and couldn’t help herself, safety of an enclosure or not.

“Shouldn’t something be done about them?” She asked her neighbour, (a domestic pig, incidentally).

“Feel free,” the swine replied, as she went through a hole in the fence. “Personally, I am off to talk to my wild cousins - good luck!”

“Aren’t you worried about the humans-?”

“Silly rabbit - our story has no humans, at least not so far!” Commented the pig and left, leaving the rabbit family behind.

The rabbits just looked at each other, but before they could reach any conclusion, in popped their wild cousin, the hare.

“Yo! You!” He called out to the cats and the dog. “Where’s the lynx from our plot line?”

The mother cat just jabbed one of her paws in the direction of the hole through the fourth wall, (from the previous chapter).

“Is she coming back any time soon?” The hare pressed on.

The mother cat gave him a flat look.

“Oh good,” said the hare, “Since I was worried.” To further emphasize his relief, he turned around and jumping into the rabbits’ enclosure. “Hey there, cousins,” he told them brightly. “Want to hang around?”

The bunnies looked at their mom. “Fine,” their mother relented. “But let’s not get carried away, or our swine neighbour will come back or something!”

“Done,” agreed the hare, and the foursome went to the local vegetable garden, (which was located not far from the pigsty, actually), but that was another story.

…Well, this is it for now. Did you enjoy this piece? All comments and criticisms are welcome! See you all soon!

Quarantine entry #41 - May 1

Obligatory disclaimer: real life sucks, but at least the province of Ontario is beginning to show signs of recovery, as at least some businesses are going to reopen next week, since it’s the first of May people, yay! April is over, and life is changing again. …So, what is my point?

Ah, yes, to further progress my escapism, I have rewatched the 2004 ‘Catwoman’ movie, and…

…And it is not that bad. Oh, sure, the depiction of the titular heroine is problematic and doesn’t really mesh with the entire underlying ‘girl power’ message that the C-2004 movie seems to push forwards, but on the other end, it’s not a horrifying mess that ‘Cats-2019’ have been, you know? The movie feels kind amateurish, the villains are not very impressive, but the same can be said for the first ‘Venom’ film, and now we are getting a second one and everyone is excited already, and not just because of cabin fever… where were we?

Ah yes, the Marvel movies of the early 2000s aren’t all that popular – ‘Daredevil’ was rather reminiscent of the ‘Batman’ films, (and yes, the Catwoman version in ‘Batman returns’ was better than the 2004 one, no argument), and as for ‘Electra’… it was really more style than substance, flashy to watch rather than fun, but… since then Marvel got itself together, (cough, Disney, cough), while DC didn’t. It is still a tangled mess, as the repeatedly delayed film about Batman, (the latest one) indicates. ‘The Fantabulous Emancipation of Harley Quinn’ is itself something of a ‘Suicide Squad’ reboot, (even if it is getting a ‘proper’ reboot now), and the underlying ‘girl power’ message… pause. Didn’t we already mention it in the subtext of C-2004?

…Yes, yes we did, and it looks like as if everything old is new again; Selina Kyle has apparently appeared on S2 of the ‘Harley Quinn’ cartoon series, which in itself is something of a reboot of the ‘Batman Animated Series’ of 1990s, which went through several transformations of its own, before it ended, (I’ve seen it personally). Put otherwise, of all the DC aspects, ‘Batman’ is one of the more enduring and versatile, even moreso than ‘Superman’, so to have it struggle is…disheartening to say the least. I have no idea where DC will go in the future, now that ‘The Fantabulous Emancipation’ is over, and everything is suspended by COVID-19, where everything is falling apart.

…Yes, now that it is May, things are coming to life once more, but still. DC had problems before COVID-19, so during and after… who knows?

In other news, I have also rewatched a DW S1 episode – ‘Knight vs. Pirate’. The pirate won, of course, but the knight had him working for it. Was it a fair episode? Yes, as the entire DW team were busy establishing if the basic firearms, (a flintlock pistol and the like) could penetrate the Medieval plate armor…and the answer is yes, it could and it can, but it was much dicier than in case of the more modern weapons, (19^th century onwards, I suppose). This episode of DW was all about the weapons and the warriors, and as such, it was one of the better ones. Anything else?

Here is another piece of my original fiction – hope that you will like it:

Once upon a time, there was a dog, who lived in the kennel. Though the kennel had no furnace, the dog's fur kept him warm, and since he did a good job of keeping various thieves and blackguards out, he was well fed as well...

"Screw this!" said the dog as he looked over the author's drabble take of him. "I'm a dog! Man's oldest companion and best friend! Surely, I could get something bigger than just a drabble - a story, maybe, or a sequence of them..." He looked around, as he scratched himself behind an ear in a thoughtful way. "Maybe I could do some sort of a crossover, even..."

The dog looked around; he sniffed around and he walked around the enclosure of his drabble, which was supposed to be a yard. He tested the borders of his drabble, examining the entire fourth wall concept, until he got the idea of the lay of the land, so to speak, and he also tried to figure out as to where his story was going to go, because he also felt kind of lonely, (domestic dogs are social animals, as is their close cousin the grey wolf, and don't like to be by themselves, period), until he finally made a decision.

///

Once upon a time, there was a cat, who lived in the house. She caught a mouse in the cellar and was rewarded with milk, while her kitten, who was too young to appreciate milk properly - her mother could always give it to her fresh - was busy playing around the house, being a nuisance to everyone else, but a lovable one...

...And then the window into their room slash house opened wide, and the dog looked inside. "Hello there, neighbor!" he spoke in a particularly dopey way, which was typical of overly enthusiastic canines. "Doing anything currently?"

"Hello!" the kitten called back cheerfully. "Hi there, neighbor! And what are you doing?"

"Young lady!" the mama cat was far more defensive and less enthusiastic. "Behave yourself! And you," she turned to the dog, "what are you doing? The human owners will catch you at any moment-"

"Nuh-uh," the dog did not back down. "There are no humans, not right now - the author didn't put them into their drabbles, not yet! Anyways, I am going to break borders through our original fandom and another one - could you two please come along with me? It'll be lonely on my own-"

The mama cat looked decisively unimpressed by the dog's plea - cats and dogs don't constantly fight, but neither do they always get along, plus unlike dogs, cats are individualist creatures and don't do large social gatherings...unless they want to, (and there's catnip involved. When there's catnip involved, all bets are off).

"I don't know, mister," the kitten spoke up suddenly. "Mama doesn't really like to travel and to have adventures. Maybe you can come in and play with me - I mean, with us, instead?"

The dog thought this over for a bit. "Sure!" he finally agreed, and jumped into the house through the window, right onto the carpet, where he gave himself a good shake, shaking himself clean. Well, cleaner. The kitten giggled and imitated him to an extent; the mama cat just stared.

The dog stared back. For a while, the two grown-ups just looked at each other, clearly trying to establish some sort of a telepathic communication slash argument. The kitten just looked at them, feeling rather worried - she did not like it when the grown-ups fought.

"So where are we going?" the mother cat suddenly changed her tactics.

"Yay! We're going on a trip!" the kitten mewed enthusiastically. "Thank you mama!" and she hugged her mom.

"Yes, well, even a trip is better than having our... neighbor here," the older feline mewed. "Also, where are we going?"

"Oh, I got it all figured out!" the dog replied brightly, as he reached out and pulled the fourth wall between this original fandom and the next one...

///

"...Wow, where are we?" the kitten mewed delightfully as she pranced around the grassland - literally. Well, no - literally speaking they were in a savanna, complete with long grass and trees that were more tropical than the ones that grew in the forest that was located beyond their village...

"In Africa," the dog said brightly, as he sniffed around one of the trees in question. "Smell, or see, this one? It's an acacia tree-!"

"Yay!" said the kitten and immediately began to climb it. Her mother was far less amused.

"You!" she told their new acquaintance. "You! You man! Do you know as to who lives here?"

"Your relatives?" the dog suggested brightly, as he pointed out to a lion in the distance. (So far, the latter was more interested in a herd of zebras and was ignoring the disturbance, not that the smaller mammals minded that, king of the beasts and all).

The mother cat looked at the king of beasts in question and her ears went flat. "You!" she switched her attention back to the dog. "You! You bachelor! You bachelor man! You self-designated bachelor- dog-! You!"

"Mama!" And the kitten (of whom the mother cat had kind of forgotten, cough), fell from an acacia branch - she did not have too much experience at climbing trees yet, and right onto the dog.

There was a pause as the trio tried to get their bearings together, because reasons. "See, mommy? I landed on my feet, as a big cat!" the kitten said brightly, switching her mental gears really easily, and doing her best to sound innocent, too.

The mother cat was not impressed - mothers often are not. That said...

"Right," she spoke finally. "Let's go and walk around here for a while - gently. We can play and all but do so quietly, and without making a commotion. Understood this, both of you did?" she asked, sounding a bit like the older version of Yoda, (not the new baby one).

Instead of commenting on this, however, the other two just nodded in understanding, and this was that: the not exactly dynamic trio went on for a walk through the acacia grove and had many adventures, both here and elsewhere - but that was another story.

End.

Did you like it? All comments and criticisms are welcome! I will see you all soon!