text:
Tiramisu Cupcakes

Tiramisu Cupcakes

I know it’s been a while since I’ve updated my blog, and a few of you have already asked me when there will be a new post.  I do apologise for the unannounced hiatus and hope to make it up to you with this delicious Tiramisu Cupcake recipe I made with my sister. Read more >>

Stewed Nectarines with Vanilla Ice Cream

Stewed Nectarines and Ice Cream

Plump and juicy nectarines (or peaches) are good the way they are. But stewing or baking them until they are soft and bursting with juices takes it to another level. Add vanilla ice cream to cooked nectarines, and you will be in heaven ~ the perfect summer dessert. Read more >>

Patisserie Yamakawa

Patisserie Yamakawa Blueberry Cheese Mousse

To celebrate a bit of good news that hubby received today, I bought some pastries from Patisserie Yamakawa. This little cake shop offers beautiful Japanese-inspired French pastries and has always been one of hubby’s favorites. Read more >>

Figs & Honey

I got the Jamie Oliver’s 30 Minute Meal book recently and have been flipping through it every night contemplating which recipes to try out and admiring all of the food photography.  There was this photograph of figs and honey, which every time I looked at, made my mouth water.   The beautiful color of the figs captured in the photo, made me think of the sweetness of the succulent fruit. Read more >>


Content-Type: application/http; msgtype=response

WARC-Identified-Payload-Type: text/html

WARC-Type: response

text:
A Camel at the Bottom of the Ocean

One more time for good measure. I’m giving you yet another chapter illustration from Playing with Sharp Objects. I think this one comes from chapter 4. Curtesy of Michael Swearingen. A camel at the bottom of the ocean.

My wisdom teeth were removed during my sophomore year of college. I was twenty. The line that Michael used to inspire his cartoon above was something my Shakespeare professor told me. Dr. Peter Reed approached me on the first day of the spring semester. Students were sitting quietly, waiting for class to begin. It was 2000, so this was before iPhones. So everybody was staring at their feet.

“You’ve got puffy cheeks,” Dr. Reed told me in the thickest of British accents.

“I do,” I mumbled. “My wisdom teeth were just removed.”

“It’s so strange that we have no evolutionary use for wisdom teeth, isn’t it?”

The rest of the class listened to my quiet, awkward interaction with Dr. Reed.

Dr. Reed was one of my favorites. What an accent. He wrote books about Kurt Vonnegut – the two were good friends. He also gave me my first taste of plays like The Tempest and Hamlet. Dr. Reed died last year. He was an old man, but I felt sad all the same. He wouldn’t have known me from Adam. Or Eve. But he left an imprint on me, that’s for sure. Teachers always leave their mark. For better or worse. That’s part of what Playing with Sharp Objects is about, I think.

I met Dr. Reed when I was 20. I didn’t really know what I was doing back then. Do I know any better now? Maybe. Maybe not.

As with the other chapter illustrations I’ve been writing about, I love Michael’s image above. We see a camel. It walks into a body of water. We see it standing on the bottom of what might be an ocean – it may as well be in the desert – surrounded by empty space. What a cool transmutation of the way I felt when I was 20. A clueless traveler surrounded by a confusing universe.

I got pretty good at teaching Hamlet. It was the text I started with in a 10-12th grade dramatic literature elective. I always followed Hamlet with Tom Stoppard’s Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead. A brilliant play. Stoppard’s work is a deconstruction of Hamlet that imagines the source material through the eyes of two minor characters. Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead extends from the joke that the only thing we really know about Ros and Guil, in reading Hamlet, is that they both have die. There’s very little else to go on. So Stoppard’s tragicomedy follows two hopeless characters as they try to make sense of their enormously irrational, doomed appearance in Hamlet.

Time and time again, Ros and Guil are referred to in Stoppard’s play as travelers. They only know that their name was called, they arrived in a confusing situation (Elsinore), and they are bound for somewhere (death).

I love the way the play captures the fragility of their lives. They are born. Given a name. Get swept up into a story they can barely make sense of and, without much explanation, are killed by the King of England. There’s universals here. We are born. Given names. We get swept up into histories and narratives that were rolling long before we got involved. The only thing we can be sure of? Death.

Talk about heavy.

But this reminds me of Michael’s drawing above. A traveler. And just when that traveler thinks they’ve figured something out – the camel enters the ocean – they find themselves more confused than ever.

I’ll stop writing about the chapter illustrations in Playing with Sharp Objects soon. It just feels right to decompress after writing three books about growing up. Weepy books, at that.

I did two things last week that were out of character. First, I changed a light switch. You should’ve seen my hands shake as I twisted wires, even after I’d shut the power off. Katie laughed at me as she positioned the flashlight on her phone so I could see what I was doing. Next, I changed the propane tank on my grill. I still can’t believe I didn’t explode.

These might not seem like impressive tasks. But I had little in the way of training as a child. Read the memoirs if you don’t believe me. The Weepy Memoirs. I’ve figured most things out on my own. And the idea of changing a light switch or replacing a propane tank terrifies me. So do most adult tasks.

I’m 38. I can see a bald spot forming. My belly is bellier than it used to be. I get tired more easily than when I was 33 or 28 or, Dear Lord, 20, sitting across from the recently deceased professor who prompted this blog. Time passes. You can’t stop it, fellow traveler.

So I guess there’s no way to avoid it. I’m turning into more of an adult who does more adult things. I’m a child inside, to be sure. I giggle harder than my boys when they scream penis at the top of their lungs. But I also change light switches.

Two crazy things happened in State College last week. First, a teacher at a local elementary died in her sleep. She was 38. She got sick, stayed home from school for two days and didn’t wake up in time to call a substitute on the third day. She never made it back to her classroom. Pneumonia. Yikes. Next, a young black man was shot by the police. He was mentally unstable. His father called the police to check on him. You can imagine how things ended. I can’t believe how little media attention this killing is getting around here. Again, yikes.

These are two adults stories, for sure. Travelers traveling along and then yoink. It’s all over. Get right with Jesus, friends. Or something like that.

The last few weeks have been a blur. I’ve had visitors in town. I’ve been busy with work and improv. I have a major article due at the end of the week, classes to teach, and I’m directing a freakin’ musical. Good Lord. I just want to sit on the couch with my two boys and play Mario. But the adult world keeps calling. A world of work, of people clashing with people, of pneumonia and racial violence.

I don’t have a tidy moral this week. I can only say that Michael’s drawing feels right. It captures 20, yes. But it gets at being 38 too.

A camel at the bottom of the ocean, surrounded by confusing, open space.

%d bloggers like this:
search previous next tag category expand menu location phone mail time cart zoom edit close

warcinfo:
isPartOf: CC-MAIN-2020-05
publisher: Common Crawl
description: Wide crawl of the web for January 2020
operator: Common Crawl Admin (info@commoncrawl.org)
hostname: ip-10-67-67-129.ec2.internal
software: Apache Nutch 1.16 (modified, https://github.com/commoncrawl/nutch/)
robots: checked via crawler-commons 1.1-SNAPSHOT (https://github.com/crawler-commons/crawler-commons)
format: WARC File Format 1.1
conformsTo: http://iipc.github.io/warc-specifications/specifications/warc-format/warc-1.1/


text:
Back to News SAMSSA

Jun 17, 2019

Member Story

Vale says hopes to reach dam burst global settlements by year-end

– by Marta Nogueira (Reuters U.S. – June 13, 2019)

RIO DE JANEIRO (Reuters) – Brazil’s Vale said on Thursday that it expects to reach global settlements covering economic and environmental damages from the January collapse of its Brumadinho tailings dam by late this year or in 2020.

Vale is scrambling to deal with the fallout from the disaster, which killed at least 246 people, triggered the replacement of its CEO and an overhaul of its board, and has forced it to set aside billions for compensation and cleanup costs.

Investors have been closely watching its ongoing talks with prosecutors and regulators on the terms of a global settlement to see how much higher the price tag from the disaster will be.

“We have been in constant talks with federal and state prosecutors,” Vale said in a statement, adding that the goal was to reach a global deal embracing “socio-economic and environmental reparations.”

Vale said the forecast on the timing of a global settlement was provided by one of its executives on Wednesday during a meeting with analysts.

For the rest of this article:


text:
Final Fantasy 12: The Zodiac Age / FFXII - Shemhazai, The Whisperer Boss Guide

Boss guide for Shemhazai, the Whisperer, which includes boss stats and strategies on how to defeat her Final Fantasy 12: The Zodiac Age / FFXII: TZA.

Shemhazai, the Whisperer

Name Shemhazai Element
Combo Receive
Steal Sagittarius Gem, Hi-Ether
High Arcana

Shemhazai, the Whisperer, is the zodiac representation of Sagittarius. Her power as an Esper involves the ability to randomize elemental resistances, use a variety of Black Magick, and chain Black Magick without charge time. Shemhazai appears at the lowest reaches of Giruvegan before the Gate of Fire leading to Ocurria. Among the five story-driven Espers, she is the third to appear.

Battle Strategy

Because Shemhazai has random elemental resistances, it is better to equip non-elemental weapons to deal consistent damage. One of the most useful spells here is Shell, as the Esper relies heavily on Magick for damage. At the beginning of the battle, Shemhazai will attempt to use Silence. As much as possible, try to squeeze in a Dispel to remove her Haste buff.

During the battle, the esper will spam Disease or Silence. She rotates between standard attacks and magick attacks. The esper will cast both Shock and Flare, both non-elemental spells. She also uses Syphon, which drains 20-30% of the target’s MP.

When her HP hits 30%, she earns the Ready Chain Magick ability. This allows her to use a variety of high level Black Magick spells. Shell should reduce the damage of her spells and the duration of any status ailment Shemhazai inflicted prior.

Level 45 EXP 0
HP 91,136 MP 999
LP 47 Clan Points 4,500
Gil 0

Elemental Resistance
Fire Earth
Ice Holy
Water Dark
Wind Elec

This esper has no permanent elemental weaknesses therefore, results may vary.

Status Ailments/Attributes

Immune Status Augments
Petrify Safety
Sap  No Knockback
Doom  Ignore Vitality
Silence Ignore Weather & Landscape
Oil Ignore Reflect
Disease Ignore Evade
Disable Low-HP Mag+
Confuse Low-HP Def+
Berserk Half MP
If HP <60% – Reduce Damage
Enraged – Attack CT0
Mana Spring – 0 MP
At HP < 40%, Chain Magick – Magick CT0
Shift – If hit with Elemental Weakness

Other Boss Guides

Storyline Boss Guides

▼Storyline Boss Guides
Air Cutter Remora Firemane Mimic Queen
Judge Ghis Garuda Demon Wall
 Belias Vossler Tiamat
Elder Wyrm Vinuskar Mateus
Judge Bergan The Mandragoras Ahriman
Dr. Cid Rafflesia Daedalus
Tyrant Shemhazai Hydro
Pandaemonium Slyt Fenrir
Hashmal Judge Gabranth Famfrit
Vayne Solidor Vayne Novus The Undying

Sidequest Boss Guides

▼Sidequest Boss Guides
Earth Tyrant Fury Humbaba Mistant
Hell Wyrm Urutan Eater Demon Wall
King Bomb Phoenix Omega Mk. II

Esper Boss Guides

▼Esper Boss Guides
Belias, the Gigas Mateus, the Corrupt Shemhazai, The Whisperer
Hashmal, Bringer of Order Famfrit, The Darkening Cloud Adrammelech, the Wroth
Zalera, the Death Seraph Exodus, the Judge-Sal Cuchulainn, the Impure
Zeromus, the Condemner Chaos, Walker of the Wheel Ultima, the High Seraph
Zodiark, Keeper of Precepts - -

Final Fantasy 12: The Zodiac Age / FFXII Recommended Article List

▼Final Fantasy 12: The Zodiac Age Recommended Articles
Walkthroughs Side Quests Characters
Storyline Boss Guides Sidequest Boss Guides Esper Boss Guides
Job Class System Gambit System License Board System
Mob Hunts Unchangeable Elements Leveling Guide

Leave a Reply

Be the first to comment


text:
Fire Emblem: Three Houses - Brigand Class

Details on the Brigand class for Fire Emblem: Three Houses. Included are their stats and a short description of its specialties.

Table of Contents

Fire Emblem: Three Houses - Walkthrough and Strategy Guide

Fire Emblem: Three Houses - Brigand Class

Icon Fire Emblem: Three Houses Brigand

Brigands are close-range combat specialists who shine the most when on the front lines. The class has rarely been playable in past games as they were usually enemy-exclusive. Brigands have high physical strength and HP to go toe-to-toe with other melee troops. They are, however, not the most accurate in landing blows because of their low skill. Brigands can also cross mountains with ease, an inherent skill of the class. They wield axes in battle.

HP Strength Defense Skill
Speed Magic Resistance Movement

Brigands have subpar stats for everything except HP and strength. This makes positioning crucial for them as they will most likely get potshot by enemy archers and mages.

Certification Requirement

Specialty Proficiency Level
Axe C or higher

Requires an intermediate seal for the certification exam.

Name Effect
Class Mastery: Death Blow  If unit initiates combat, grants Str +6 during combat.

Skill Experience Bonuses

  • Axe +2
  • Brawl +1

Other Classes

Trainee and Beginner Classes
Noble Commoner Fighter
Myrmidon Soldier Monk
Intermediate Classes
Mercenary Brigand Thief
Archer Cavalier Pegasus Knight
Armored Knight Brawler Mage
Dark Mage Priest -
Advanced Classes
Hero Fortress Paladin
Grappler Warlock Bishop
Swordmaster Assassin Warrior
Sniper Wyvern Rider Dark Bishop
Master Classes
Falcon Knight Wyvern Lord Mortal Savant
Great Knight Bow Knight Dark Knight
Holy Knight War Master Gremory
Exclusive Classes
Lord Dancer Enlightened One
Armored Lord High Lord Wyvern Master
Emperor Great Lord Barbarossa

Fire Emblem: Three Houses Recommended Article List

▼Top Page Articles
Walkthroughs Characters Classes
Beginner Guides Strategy Guides Game Database
Best Characters Best Classes Professor Levels
Dialogue Choices Lecture Room Advice Box
Tea Party Topics Favorite Gifts Lost Items
▼Popular Guides
Recommended Classes Tea Party Topics Lysithea Tea Party Guide
Dancer Class Tea Party Guide Dorothea Tea Party Guide
List of Characters Ingrid Tea Party Guide Recommended Characters to Recruit
List of Paralogue Battles Petra Tea Party Guide Marianne Tea Party Guide
▼Popular Tea Party Guides
Lysithea von Ordelia Dorothea Arnault Ingrid Brandol Galatea
Petra Macneary Marianne von Edmund Hilda Valentine Goneril
Shamir Nevrand Bernadetta von Varley Claude von Riegan
Edelgard von Hresvelg Leonie Pinelli Felix Fraldarius

Leave a Reply

Be the first to comment


text:
Cart 0

Empreinte 'Melody' (Black)

Melody by Empreinte is a contemporary range in beautifully moulded Chantilly lace. Trimmed with satin knit, this seamless collection promises comfort, discretion and support.

Founded by Jean Le Her in 1946, Empreinte specialises in modern, bold creations confirming its position as an expert corsetry designer for curvy women all around the globe.

Back to top


text:
Addressing workplace barriers for disabled people.

More disabled parents will be helped into work following an additional £6 million aimed at reducing both the disability employment gap and child poverty.

With only around 40% of working age disabled adults in employment, compared with more than 80% of non-disabled adults, the new funding is part of an action plan outlining how this gap can be at least halved over the next 20 years. The plan sets an initial ambition to increase the employment rate of disabled people to 50% by 2023 then to 60% by 2030.

The action plan also includes:

  • Up to £1 million to develop solutions to the barriers employers face in hiring and retaining disabled people
  • Up to £500,000 to pilot the provision of support similar to Access to Work to disabled people undertaking work experience or work trials
  • A new support service to help disabled people for who more mainstream employment support is not suitable
  • Appointing a business leader to advise Ministers on the steps to reduce the perceived risk of recruiting those with fluctuating health conditions
  • Developing targets for the employment of disabled people within the Scottish Government’s own workforce

Fair Work Minister Jamie Hepburn said:

“Everybody who can and wants to work should have the chance to find rewarding jobs. Unfortunately, far too many disabled people are currently denied this opportunity.

“I am determined that we do everything in our power to address inequality in the workforce and ensure disabled people are supported to have fair and sustainable working lives. The action plan is a significant step forward in making this happen and helping achieve our aim of at least halving the disability employment gap.”

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s


text:
Hydrangea EX (30)

Hydrangea EX is a wonderful natural product, which contains Hydrangea (Hydrangea arborescens (LINN.)) root. Hydrangea is called seven barks, because it peels easily with each layer of bark being a different color.

The name Hydrangea comes from the Greek "hydra" meaning "water" and "angeon" meaning "vessel" referring to the plant’s preference for moisture and to the shape of the seed capsule.

Hydrangea was traditionally used by the North American Indians as a remedy for kidney and bladder stones, body’s detoxification. This herb is valued for its solvent properties that help break down and prevent further formation of stones and salt deposits in the urinary system and joints.

The primary chemical constituents of Hydrangea include glycosides (hydrangin), saponins, resins, rutin, essential oils, and flavonoids, Manganese and Chromium.
It has mild diuretic, antiseptic, tonic and wound healing properties.

Hydrangea root helps normalize water-salt metabolism in the body.

Hydrangea is used to maintain the health of the urinary system: as an adjuvant for the treatment of the urinary tract, bladder and kidney infections, mucous irritations of the bladder.

Hydrangea EX acts as a kidney tonic, improves its function.

Hydrangea has diuretic properties, promotes body’s detoxification, cleanses urogenital tract.

Hydrangea helps to ease premenstrual syndrome.

Hydrangea root has been most promising in easing the symptoms of an inflamed or enlarged prostate gland.

The new Santegra®’s product Hydrangea EX contains standardized (4:1 extract) of Hydrangea root, that guarantees its effectiveness. One capsule of the new product is equivalent to four capsules of Hydrangea root powder.

Supplement Facts

Per one capsule:

Hydrangea (Hydrangea arborescens) root extract 4:1 (equivalent to 1200 mg of crude herb) – 300 mg.

As a dietary supplement take 1 capsule with a large glass of water twice a day with meals.

Individual intolerance.
If you are suffering from gallbladder or kidney stones, consult your physician before taking this product.

Related products


text:
Marathon 2

On June 3, I became a two-time marathoner. It wasn’t without challenge, chafe or crisis, but it was with pride, power and pep. It wasn’t the race I wanted, but its a race that, at the end of the day, I am proud of.

Since I am a Rock n Blogger for the Rock n’ Roll Marathon Series, I decided to sign up for the Remix Challenge, which is a 5K one day in addition to the full or half the next day. I told myself I’d walk most of that so as to not put too much stress on my body or risk a freak accident that would stop me from being at my best the next day. But, in true me fashion, I ran the whole way and killed it with a 10 min/mile pace (I’m normally 11:30-12 min/mile). I spent the rest of the day in recovery and relaxation mode, fueling up on carbs, enjoying Porto Vista Hotel’s spool (spa jacuzzi pool) and straight up Netflix-and-chillin’ in my hotel room. I was determined to awake the next morning in a calm and motivated state.

Since I traveled to San Diego for the race, I purchased a VIP pass so I had somewhere to eat breakfast, get coffee, stretch and hydrate pre-Race. While shoving a bagel down my throat, I saw the one and only Boston Marathon winner Des Linden hanging out on the other side of the tent. I tried to finish scarfing down my meal so I could go take a selfie with her, but I sadly missed her by seconds. Still, being in her presence was one of the most motivating feelings I could have pre-race. “Run like Des,” I told myself.

I made my way to Corral 22 hydrated, fed and stretched. Normally I like to jam to some New Found Glory when I’m nervous, but I didn’t want to waste my headphone battery pre-race as I knew I’d need the power-through songs towards the end.  Instead, I made a few friends – some returning marathoners, some first-time marathoners. We shared our stories as we waited nearly an hour after the first corral started for our turn. At about 6:56 a.m., I was officially en route on marathon number two.

828418_278303175_XLargeI vastly underestimated the number of hills that were on the course and they started right from the beginning. What did blow me away was the amount of course support there was from the City of San Diego. Everything from costumed strangers with motivational signs to a full on stretch of bars set up outside of people’s houses. Around mile 4.5 I enjoyed myself a shot of tequila, a swig of beer and a few jolly ranchers (the whiskey leprechaun was sadly on the other side of the street). Little kids were high-fiving everyone who would accept and neighbors thankfully set up their hoses to help runners stay as cool as possible on a wicked hot day. I kept myself occupied just at the sheer curiosity of what would be around the corner on the next stretch of road.

At about mile 10, the crowd thinned as the marathoners and half marathoners split courses. I had spent the latter half of the race headphone-free so I could enjoy the conversations, cheers and live music, but as the course became more and more desolate, I knew it was time for my “26.2 songs to get me through” playlist to be cranked.

During my training, the half-way mark seemed to be where my downfall would begin, no matter what distance I was aiming for and that was no different for this race. My feet were so sore I could feel and count at least three blisters on each foot. It was hot. SO hot. I felt well-fueled, well-fed, well-hydrated, but the heat and hills still took a toll on me. I did everything I could to just enjoy the surroundings, what I was about to achieve and the thought of what was at the finish line. I had great friends and family cheering me on and coaching me as best they could from a distance, my favorite bands were blasting in my ears and I was in beautiful San Diego. Of the many messages replaying in my head throughout the long course, “only half marathons from now on” was definitely one of them.

As I approached mile 22, a police officer was moving a course barricade. He then proceeded to tell us the race was over and the course was being shut down. “What do you mean?? We have two hours left to finish!!” “There’s an active shooter downtown.”

In this day and age, that is my biggest fear. Every concert, festival, special event I go to, I am met with that fear. I blew up in water works and called my family and my boyfriend to let them know that I was in a safe spot. We were being re-routed to the mall and a shuttle would come pick us up. Despite safety, I was mortified by the thought of not finishing. I did not spend six months training for something to be destroyed by this god-forsaken society we are currently living in. By some stupid schmuck. By today’s new norm. Fellow runners saw how distraught I was and comforted me. Thank you, strangers.

Luckily enough, the situation was quickly controlled and unrelated to the Race with no injuries at play. About ten minutes later, we were back on the course and met with the amazing news that we would be able to finish. However, the break was my downfall. I spent so much energy crying and fearing that it completely killed any stride I had left. I knew the last 4-ish miles would be the biggest challenge, especially with the MASSIVE hill that was miles 23-24. Literally all up-hill, at the end of the race, on the freeway, with no shade. It was brutal. I feel like whoever conquered that that day, should get a medal just for beasting that portion. The brightside was that a good majority of the remaining miles was downhill – but at that point, I was so beat-up, blistered, chafed and burnt that mostly-walking was how I kept going and “just keep moving” is all I could tell myself. 828418_278213763_XLarge

As I turned the corner to see the finish line, a little over a quarter of a mile away, I got that final burst of energy and off I went. Six hours and twenty minutes later (including the potential active shooter lull), I was a two-time marathoner. And thanks to the Remix Challenge, I had three medals to celebrate it with. And some pizza, beer and uber-delivered ice cream sandwiches.

When You Know Something Will Suck and It Really Does Suck.

I have officially survived all of my extremely long training runs. An upcoming ten miles sounds like a breeze, but I am terrified of 26.2 of them. Over the weekend, I barely made it to my 20 miler. I cried. I struggled. I hurt. I doubted. I still finished.

On Saturday, I didn’t want to talk about it. On Sunday, I still tried to process it. Today, I am still recovering from it.

I did all the things I needed to do. From stretching, to hip strengthening exercises throughout the week, to good sleep and water, but still, I suffered. But secretly, I had a feeling it would be that way. All week, I wasn’t sure if I was ready to conquer it. And I let that thought in my mind win. My hips felt off balance, my hamstrings were tight, even my upper body felt like it was in suffering. If I didn’t have a friend by my side, I would’ve quit by mile 15. Goddamn the convenience of Uber. No pep talk I gave myself lasted more  than a half mile. No food or beer motivated me enough. But ultimately my heart was too stubborn to be damned not to finish.

Mile 20 was a few steps from my front door. As the door swung open, I fell to my knees. I crawled to my bedroom floor. And I cried. I wallowed. I pitied. I couldn’t even be proud that I finished it because I wasn’t proud of how I finished it. My lower back was on fire. The arches of my feet were numb.

I continued sulking in my sorrow by soaking in my bathtub. I cried when I couldn’t get the faucet to switch from the shower head. All I wanted was to lay in hot water and pity myself. There was a burning question in the back of my mind and as I finally set into the sea of epsom, I asked it – Am I going to be able to do this? What am I going to do on June 3? I don’t know if I’ll be able to do this. Up until now, I was so confident in myself as I knew if I did it once, I could do it again.

Though I didn’t want to talk about it, there were a few friends that forced me into it. Many helped me believe that I should be proud that I did the 20 miles and that they are now in the past. One told me that a bad dress rehearsal means a fantastic opening night. Others didn’t know how much I was hurting inside and out and instead just helped me celebrate.

While I’m not physically ready for the next run, mentally, I need it for my sanity. To prove to myself that I’ve got this. That a bad run is ok. That I’m a bad ass mother fucker who CAN and WILL get to that finish line.

One Month and Counting

Seriously? Al-fucking-ready? Training for marathon #1 seemed like it took a decade.  This one, is right around the corner. One more super long 20 mile distance training run stands between me and feeling done with the training. The test of all tests is already on the horizon. While I’m ready to have my weekends back, I don’t feel I gave up all that many. I’m ready to have a little less chafe on my inner thighs but given its getting warmer and I’m wearing shorts more, I’m probably bound to get that anyway. I’m ready to cut back on my carbs but we have yet to do our traditional sushi carb load. Marathon #2 is one month away. One more month.

Having connected with more people on Instagram this go-around has made this journey more excited and uplifting. I’ve loved the conversations that have transpired both on and off line from people following the journey. And seriously – it holds me more accountable than anything ever has before. Gotta do the damn workout do get the damn ‘gram pic! (I’m also slowly becoming a pro at selfies and timer pics).

I’ve been getting asked a lot about how running affects my body – everything from how my knees feel to weight loss to time consumption. My body aches – of course it does – there are days where I’m taking 30,000 steps before 10 a.m. There are days I forget to put vaseline on my boobies and they get chafed up from bouncing around for 45 minutes. There are Friday nights where I go to bed at 8 p.m. to be up at 4 a.m. to be out the door by 5:30 a.m. and to not return until 10:00 a.m… AND THEN …. I’m in bed the rest of the day because I don’t want to (see also: can’t) move another muscle. And no, I’m not losing any weight, I won’t lose any for the next month, and in fact, I’ve gained weight. My diet ranges from clean eating early on in the week, to heavy eating by the end, to recovery eating and celebratory eating. It’s hard to stay consistent because every day I’m preparing my body for something different. (PS; Check out the latest podcast from ‘300 Pounds and Running‘ titled “Why am I Gaining Weight While Training” for more perspective on this).

Hey, if you’re reading this – I’m in search of some new bottoms for my marathon – whether it be capris, shorts or a skirt – I want something with a rad print / color and high waist (because….gasp…. I think I’m going to do the run in my sports bra….hello first stomach tan since I was ….never).

What am I missing? The speed of my training just feels like it isn’t real yet. Will it ever?

What advice do you have for me and #2?

What do you want to know more about?

I Run and I Do Things

As the San Diego Rock n Roll Marathon draws near, running is one of the only things on my mind. From planning training routes to buying new shoes and thinking of my race outfit, to ensuring my travel plans are all in order and thinking of my pre-race to-dos like a trip to the chiropractor, a pedicure and a trip to Reno Running Company to stock up on Honey Stinger Waffles and Sport Beans. (Side note: most of this equates to spending money which is my number one anxiety tick. Help me, I’m poor.) For the next six-ish weeks, when Facebook asks “What’s on your mind?” or an acquaintance wants to make small talk, the world will only hear me speak of running. Running to the store, running over the weekend, running through your mind, running to the toilet to vomit because marathon #2 draws near….

Which is why I sat down to write about the ‘other’ things. The other workouts that have made me stronger, the other goals I have for a better race day, the other things that will fill the next few weeks of my life… I don’t JUST run. I don’t run every day. Hell, some weeks I run twice, including my long distance run. See… even when I have intentions to do or write about other things they always equate back to running. Everything comes full circle during training but there are very, very few things in my life that I’ve worked as hard for and all these things show that. But still… I want you to know the ‘other’ things:

  • Cross-train. I’ve been doing a lot of leg presses because, quite frankly, they make me feel like such a BADASS! Just today I PR’d at 180# for 50 presses. After that, I did 5 rounds of 100 jump ropes and 20 bicep curls with 15#. Other favorites include rows, squats, shoulder presses and battle ropes. I’ve been really consistent about my 5 a.m. wakeup calls for things other than running and all of the different exercises have seriously aided my body – faster pace, less injuries and more stamina. I still shock myself every time I pace at a 10 minute mile (only on shorter distances…) but I know its because I’m really working hard to strengthen my entire body.
  • Sobriety. I’ve spent most of this year sober but birthdays, concerts and vacations have fallen back-to-back over the last two months and that affects my weekend productivity and even into Monday. I have one more fiesta on the books but after that, its a dry zone for me until race day. (Friends, don’t take it personally if you don’t see me the next few weeks).
  • Walk my dog. Cuddle my dog. Talk to my dog. Love my dog to pieces. Enough said.
  • Self care. I’ll be upping my chiropractor visits just to make sure I’m on my game. Epsom baths will become more frequent. A massage might be in my future. I’ve also been trying like hell to get my skin to clear but I’ve always struggled with adult acne and that shit is powerful right now. I’m trying out a few new things in hopes something will get it under control.
  • HEALTHY EATING. I was doing SO well with paleo at the beginning of the year but between carb loads and previously mentioned birthdays and vacations, I feel like I’ve fallen a bit off track. I’d really like to focus on upping my greens, curbing my chocolate cravings and seriously cutting down on weekend gluttony. I haven’t checked the scale in a few weeks (which is seriously liberating) but with a Hawaii trip post-marathon, I’d love to see it lower than it has been in years (and last I checked, I was almost there).

I truly did have other intentions for this post but sometimes the words just come out differently (and like the nerve vomit, word vomit is another nervous tick of mine).

Halfway there, halfway chafed

I’m in a temporary rut – one of exhaustion, hormones and with a lack of motivation. This week I have been nothing short of tired, no matter how much sleep I get. But I keep envisioning that June 3rd goal, how important it is to me and how amazing it will feel when it’s complete. I do have successes to reflect on, so I’m turning to this post to do so.

On April 8, I ran my first half marathon in two years! I traveled to the Bay for the Rock n Roll San Francisco Half Marathon, complete with great friends and my ultimate running partner. The day we drove in, the rain was a torrential downpour. Fingers and laces were crossed that it would clear up by Sunday, but until then, we had a two mile walk in Hurricane Half Marathon to get to the Race Expo. I love that we’re able to bring our guests to enjoy some of the Expo perks and I loved even more that Blue Buffalo was one of the vendors. I legitimately walked out of the Expo with more goodies for my dog than myself, which was great because I knew he was going to be pissed at me when I got home (see: Mamma’s Boy). Walking through the merchandise area gave me chills and it was the first time I had gotten nervous about the race. I decided on some retail therapy and got a beautiful teal commemorative tanktop that eventually went great with my race medal. 29873128_589164891464079_981320735037531872_o

We stayed at Club Quarters in the Financial District and it was a runner’s dream! Not only was there FREE WINE every day from 5p – 6p, but each floor had filtered water stations and each room had a yoga mat and resistance bands, plus access to fitness classes and a gym complete with Peloton bikes. Plus, the staff was super nice, there was electronic check-in, free laundry and an attached restaurant/bar. If I was in SF for business or just to be away, I could definitely see myself staying there for a few days without ever leaving (seriously, even my UberEats driver walked into the lobby instead of meeting me curbside).

On Saturday, we went to the birthplace of Irish Coffees at Buena Vista and aside from the finish line, this was the best part of our trip. To eat, you basically had to hover around other people until they got up from their spot and you could sit where they were. Luckily we made friends with an older brother and sister who allowed us to join them and another pair of strangers for breakfast. You would’ve never of guess that we had never met. It was like one big happy family at a breakfast table for the next two hours – sipping on Irish Coffees, compliments of the other couple, laughing, chatting, throwing things at each other (no really, I accidentally threw food on an old man’s crotch) and of course, enjoying some amazing, AMAZING food. I had a crab cake benedict that was perfectly crisped.

From there, we walked some of the course, said hi to the seals and eventually made our way back to the Expo for some last minute supplies and a less wet experience. Oh, and yes, the weather cleared and it was absolutely perfect. For dinner, we stumbled upon a restaurant down the street from our hotel called Mangia Tutti. Since working for an Italian family, I’ve become somewhat picky about my pastas and other delicacies. But everything from the wine selections to the bread dippings to the homemade pasta and authentic Italian waitress, was incredible. It was so nice to sit around a table and enjoy good laughs, good food and good company, all to ease the nerves of the Race morning. But alas, the sun was setting and it was time for me to get in my race preparations.

Fast forward to 4 a.m. when my alarm went off – I did all of the usual stuff – toast with PB and banana, Nuun, stretching, more Nuun, trying to poop, failing to poop, freaking out about not pooping and leaving before I pooped. I grabbed an Uber to Pier 39 as I was lucky enough to get VIP from the Rock n Roll race. I was also lucky enough to get to post to the RNR Instagram Stories all weekend which was SUPER fun and I squealed when I saw that some of my posts had almost 10,000 views (PR geek moment). As I was waiting for my friends to join up with me, a fellow Rock N Blogger recognized me and immediately invited me into the runner family. It was really awesome to meet face-to-face with some of the fellow runners I see on Instagram on a daily basis and that truly was one of the highlights of my trip.

Ok, go time. (Literally, I finally pooped just before the Race started).

I ended up finishing the Race strong but slow coming in at 2 hours and 50 minutes. A lot of that was due to stopping for the bathroom or mostly to take photos of the most beautiful course I have ever run. You guys, I RAN ACROSS THE GOLDEN GATE BRIDGE. And the weather was perfect, sunny and most importantly, especially in SF, clear. The views were some of the most incredible I have ever seen in my running days and my heart was just beaming as bright as the sun. My running pal and I stuck together for the majority of the race, talking and motivating, all to pass the time. By mile 11, I was ready to be done so I sped up a bit. I had been suffering from sore feet all week and a cramped calf from walking the hills which had me super worried about my performance all weekend. At the mile 12 marker, my foot started to go numb and I literally yelled out “Please, no, not now.” And it worked. The Running Gods heard me. The .1 of 13.1 was a steep downhill to the finish line which had runners crossing at top, powerful speed. Crossing that finish line was one of the best feelings I’ve had in recent times as I’ve ached so badly for that feeling. I so missed that feeling. I so wanted that to be the outcome of this journey.

And now… on to 26.2.

Get to the ‘Gram!

I hope you’ve been following along with me on Instagram as I’m MUCH better about sharing and conversing on there – definitely better than once every other month.

Training has been going fairly well. I celebrated my 30th birthday earlier this month with a trip to Disneyland and a cruise to Ensenada. I skipped a long run, ate all the churros and drank all the tequila. Worth it. Pre-trip, I was down 12 pounds from January and feeling better than ever. While I’m still struggling to get fully back on a diet plan, I’m at the gym every day and running when I’m not. I’m finally over double digit mileage, running further than 10 miles for the first time since Marathon #1 in 2016. It felt great to accomplish, but was a challenge to complete. I’m doing much better with strength training on my own than I ever have before and can see a real change in the shape of my body, even if the scale isn’t showing that. I’m more confident about my mid-section than ever before and I think I’ve finally shook off all of the gym self-consciousness I previously had. Dead-lifts next to a super fit bikini competitor? No problem. Bench rows next to a hot dude? I’m hotter (joking… you get the point).

What I’ve noticed this training go around is that I’m no longer nervous about those long training runs. I know my body, I know I’ve done it before, I know I can do it again. My biggest obstacle is just to keep my focus, lace up my shoes and get going. Seriously – some days the hardest part is just getting out the door. Yesterday, it took me two hours post-alarm to finally get the ball rolling… or the feet moving rather. I did everything from Candy Crush to laundry to telling my dog how handsome he is (an every day thing of course).

One thing I need to do is to take back control of my nutrition and my carb-loads. The last two long runs, I enjoyed some delicious BBQ from a local restaurant, but woke up with such a sour stomach that I completely messed with my run. On my 10-miler, I had to call my boyfriend to come pick me up and take me to the nearest bathroom. Yesterday, part of the delay was to let my stomach settle so I didn’t have to do that again. While I’ll still eat delicious tri-tip burritos from the restaurant I won’t mention, it’ll have to be when I’ve got no place to go. Or… actually… all the places to go, no miles to run.

The chronological order of this post is all over the place and for that I apologize. Also over the weekend, I tried out my first trampoline class at EZ Air. It was so much fun, it didn’t even feel like a workout! And we were doing BURPEES on TRAMPOLINES! The most challenging part for me was lifting my body out of a foam pit and onto a balance beam. It really tested my upper body strength but made me feel macho by the completion. I’m excited to check out their next class on April 14 and hope that my local friends will join me in on the fun.

Next up, I’ve got a half marathon! I’m super excited to be traveling back to San Francisco in 12 days for the Rock n Roll Half Marathon. SF was the location of my very first half so I’m sure it’ll be an emotional race for me as I think back to the runner I was then and the runner I am now. I was bummed that race didn’t go over the Golden Gate Bridge, nor could we even see it from the course (because, fog) but this time, we get to go over and back on the iconic monument and hear some rockin’ bands along the way. Anyone out there racing with me?

Signing Up For Your First Half Marathon

It’s been a while since I’ve officially raced a half marathon (just a little over two years to be exact) but Rock n Roll San Francisco is just around the corner so its time, once again, to suck it up buttercup. While my end goal this year is full marathon number two, believe it or not, 13.1 still makes me nervous. As I pondered the race this morning in the shower (you know, the place where we ALL get our best ideas), I thought back to my very first half marathon, which ironically, was also in San Francisco. What did I do to prepare? What would I have done better? Why did I decide to eat an entire bag of Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups on the drive home afterward? (See also: why WOULDN’T I do that?!)

I remember having all of the questions, and none of the resources. Running was still somewhat new to me so I didn’t have too many friends that I could reach out too. Of course, there was the internets, but who reads blogs and trust strangers? Thus, I present you with some helpful tips for preparing for your first half marathon.

  1. Picking the race: go with a run that includes some fun! Pick somewhere that you’ll have to travel to, but not too far or tricky to get to. I’d go with a place you are somewhat familiar with, but will still present you with some new scenes to pass the time on your run. That’s why I went with San Francisco – it was a short 3.5 hour drive from home that I had been to a few times, but hadn’t seen enough of. I knew how to get there, could plan a strategy around booking a hotel and the finish line and had a few pre and post race restaurants already planned out.
    • Part two: One thing I love about the Rock n Roll Races is that there’s always a free concert that coincides with it. At my first RNR, I got to see Macklemore and Ryan Lewis before the race and was so pumped on the show that it fueled the rest of my run! Find something that has a fun component to it. Tiffany necklace? Beer garden at the end? Running through Disneyland? This just gives you some extra motivation for getting across that finish line.
  2. Pinterest allllll the training plans. Seriously – look at a few and decide which one is most feasible for you. I tend to go with fewer short runs during the week, one long weekend run and three to four days of strength training. Why? Because it better protects my hips and I don’t get burnt out from running as quickly. The best way to figure out what will work for you is to just go for it. There’s nothing wrong with changing your plan to better conquer your challenges and Pinterest is there to help you get it done! I guess I am too – so don’t hesitate to get in touch if you need help picking a plan.
  3.  Buy a new pair of running shoes. DON’T be like me and think you can run long distances in $30 sneakers from Payless or classified “running” shoes from the Nike Outlet. Take an hour to visit your local running or sports specialty store and ask someone to help you find the perfect pair. My life (and my feet) changed the second I stepped foot into Reno Running Company for some new kicks. The right store will analyze your running style, narrow down the type of shoe you need and even try and find something that fits your style (hello purple and pink Mizunos).
  4. Make a running playlist. Making a new one of these has been on my to-do list for a while. My personal computer recently died and with it went years and years and years of my favorite songs. What’s left of it, are my iTunes purchases and a very minimal list. Thanks to Spotify, I’ve been able to at least quickly select some playlists made by others (Punk Rock Workout being my favorite). Pick out 20-30 songs that make you dance, smile and move and group them together. They’ll keep you going along the way and help you pace out your miles. Don’t be ashamed to add whatever it is that will get you going – remember, this is for YOUR ears and feet. (queue Esther Dean’s “Drop It Low” in the background of my life).

I’ll never forget that last half mile of my first half marathon. I cried, I pep talked, I even picked up the pace. It helped that a fireman in a tuxedo was waiting at the finish line with a Tiffany’s necklace for me, but that’s not why I’ll never forget it. Me, who at her heaviest was 263 pounds, was conquering the world. My hope for every aspiring runner is to have their finish line moment, there are few things in the world quite like it.

Sign up for Rock n Roll San Francisco, April 8 in the Bay! Use the code RNRRNB2018 to save $15 on registration. See you there!

Last Week Was Fun and I Never Want to Remember It

I know its only the fourth week of 2018, but so far, I’ve felt a focus and desire to reach my goals more than I ever have before. This has included making it to the gym every day I said I would, making my meal plans and sticking to them, taking my vitamins, etc. But then last Monday happened and although I felt incredibly discouraged by it, today I write this as one last send off to its past.

After a delicious, paleo, in-the-diet-plan, homemade dinner on Monday, I started getting severe but intermittent sharp pains in my abdomen. By about 8 p.m., I had my head in the toilet. And it hardly left there all night. I’ve been through something like this before, which I thought was just food poisoning, and it usually goes away within 12-15 hours, so I decided to stay home from work and get some rest. I hardly moved all day, unless it was to hurl or grimace in pain. I couldn’t drink water or even eat saltines. I couldn’t walk to let my dog outside or feed him dinner. I knew if I went to Urgent Care, they’d send me to the ER. I didn’t want to go to the ER because I’m still paying for my last trip in October 2016.

More than 48 hours later, it was still happening and this time worse than ever. I finally decided to go to the hospital Wednesday night where I was checked for possible appendicitis. After lab work and a CAT scan, thankfully appendicitis was ruled out. The hospital gave me some heavy pain medication which was worth the trip in itself because I went from “I’d rather be in Hell right now” to “Maybe I can get a decent night sleep!”

My labs did show some things which I’ll be following up with my doctor on this week, and my body has certainly felt weak while in recovery. I was getting winded after simple tasks like doing the dishes. Whether this is related to the mysterious pain I often get, I’m not sure. But it did give me more ideas on what to ask my doctor and hopefully I can kill two birds with one stone.

It took a few days for me to get back to the gym but I am determined to continue on the accomplished path that I started the year out with. Yesterday, Pawko and I did a well-paced four miler that was a great accomplishment for us both – me after the week from Hell, and he at his farthest distance in quite sometime. We were quite proud of ourselves, and earned our Epsom salt bath and belly rub rewards respectively.

Here’s to a brand new week and here’s a  to last week.

I See You Looking at Me…

That’s it… 112 is officially going on my running playlist.

This weekend I conquered (more like struggled through) six miles. I’m feeling the soreness in my hips from upping my mileage and focusing on my training, but I’m also working on strengthening and stretching that area so it doesn’t become a common problem. Between mile three and four, I had a bit of wreckage with my run and kept having to walk, stretch, adjust my gear and basically avoided getting back on pace. Once I got over that little hump, I stayed focus on the finish line for the remainder of the run and felt great once I reached the end. I made a promise to myself that I could spend the remainder of the weekend relaxing and resting without feeling guilty, and such is what I did.

As I was trying to pass time on my run, I couldn’t help but notice the different type of eye contact and reactions I had from drivers along the way. I often wonder what exactly they are thinking as I run towards them and they drive past me. I’ve gotten smiles and waves and honks and even a few middle fingers. Yep. For whatever reason, multiple assholes have decided giving the girl trying to push herself to be her best, a big ol’ bird from behind the wheel. Like, can you really smell me from there?

So I present to you, driver reactions to distance runners on the road:

  • The woman smiling is rooting me on because she knows how great and healthy I’ll feel when I finish
  • The older woman switching lanes so I can have more room on the road is silently shaking her fist at me and saying “damn kids.” She also apparently thinks I have a sign on that reads “wide load.”
  • Mischievous teens are impressed that a girl my size looks so bad ass in running shoes and a tank top in 50 degree weather
  • Fellow runners honk in jealousy because they wish they were out on a jaunt (I know this one is true from experience).
  • Non-runners are wondering why I am running on the road, in the bike lane, against traffic – no its not because I’m running from a monster, but so I can see you (looking at me).
  • If my dog is with me, EVERYONE is oogling at how handsome he is in his bowtie with his tongue sticking out and freedom blowing his ears back.

To be quite honest, I have a few more that I could list here, but I’ll save those for one-on-one conversations with people I know won’t judge me for them. I hope the above made you laugh, because while I aim to provide you with interesting, motivational and informational content, I also aim to make you smile in the interim. Have a great week!

The Power of Ten

Happy New Year! It’s January 2nd and I’m still suffering from an NYE champagne hangover. I blame it on the fact that from Christmas till NYE, I got whatever cold is going around along with the fact that I need to realize I just cannot drink like I did in my early 20s. Needless to say, January 1st was supposed to be my first official marathon training day, but that did not happen.

Back to that cold thing… man – I thought I got off easy with just a terrible sore throat, but it got worse Thursday night, so I went to bed at 7 p.m. and literally could not leave my bed (except to go to the bathroom) until 9 a.m. Saturday. It was rough and I have never really been happier to breathe fresh air. Between that and a week of bad eating, my body is certainly feeling the repercussions. Everything from a food belly to an awful case of acne is happening, but of course, its time to kick all of that in the ass. As such, I was up dark and early to begin training with a three mile treadmill run and a one mile cool down walk. While it wasn’t my best due to the aforementioned circumstances, it felt a hell of a lot better than laying in bed all day.

As I enter 2018 with a positive outlook and a big goal in mind, I set up a few smaller, attainable goals to help me get there. Ten to be exact. They are daily action items that will keep me focused on the bigger goals ahead. And since you asked, here they are:

  1. No alcohol until Valentine’s Day
  2. Only black coffee or tea (no sweet, sugary coffees)
  3. No eating out unless previously scheduled or necessary for work
  4. Meet 10,000 step goal daily
  5. Go to sleep by 10 p.m., if not earlier
  6. Drink a gallon of water per day
  7. Take vitamins daily
  8. Take an Epsom Salt bath at least once per week
  9. Make extra time for stretching and foam rolling
  10. Make your shopping list on Friday and grocery shop by noon on Saturday

What’s your goal for 2018 and what are you going to do to get there?


text:
11x8 Skirmish Tray for 20x20mm bases

SKU: 20M11x8S-2M

MDF Skirmish Tray consisting of MDF upper frame and lower base. Select the hight of frame required to match your bases. Each cutout is 1/2" (12.7mm) apart with a 1/4" (6.35mm) trim to keep your unit spacing consistent when placed alongside each other.

Related products

View all


text:
Audio Short Story – WEAKNESS

Not too long ago, I won an Honorable Mention from the Writers of the Future short story contest for my short story, WEAKNESS.

As a thank you for visiting my tiny corner of the internet, I reached out to a professional voice actor (George Kastrinos) and asked him to narrate the tale. He agreed, and his narration is out-of-this-world fantastic. I thought it was a good story to begin with, but his performance adds that extra bit of magic.

I hope you all enjoy the story. Listen or read it – either way, thank you very much for checking out my work.

by Shami Stovall

“This is your last chance, Metallo,” the alpha says, his breath hot and misty on the evening winds.

I shudder under the gaze of the pack. Each member regards me with disappointment or disgust. I don’t blame them. For the last seven nights in a row, I’ve failed to return with offerings for the newborn pups and their mother. It’s a disgrace.

“This hunt will be different,” I reply, lifting my head and keeping my ears erect. “This time I won’t fail you.”

Any other brother with my track record would have been thrown from the pack after the second hunt, but Ba’al and I are of the same litter. Despite his position as the alpha, he clings to our history. I see it in his black eyes as he stares down at me—not with hate, but with sympathy.

Ba’al takes in a deep breath and exhales. No one speaks as they wait for his decree. I watch the others shift across the rocks through thick shadows to get a better look, but none jump down to my level.

I am alone. The only failure.

“There is a herd of man in the valley,” Ba’al drawls. “They bring with them sheep, chickens, goats, and pigs. They also bring dogs—nothing but weak beasts—and I know you will be successful if you raid their home under the light of our Goddess’s moon.”

I bow my head. His orders are a gift. Ba’al could have assigned me any creature in our territory, but the herds of man are known for being stationary. Unlike the caribou and elk, which travel with the sun and seasons, there is little risk of losing my hunt.

And it is a hunt I can do alone, unlike the hoofed prey we stalk as a pack.

“Thank you, Ba’al,” I say.

“Go then, Metallo. I will see you at the breaking of the day, or never again. Do I make myself clear?”

“I understand.”

He huffs his final word and turns away. The others join him, leaving me to travel down the rocky slopes of our mountain alone. The solitary aspect of my mission is worse than the task. Deep down, I yearn for company, but the past three winters have been hard. The less useful I become, the more my brothers alienate themselves from me.

I shake the thoughts from my head and begin my trek.

The moonlight shadows between crags answer my summons as I slip from one lane of darkness to the other. Magic bends away the light and keeps me hidden, though no beast ventures into our pack’s mountain haven. I use my void walking not because I have to, but because I wish to practice. With my skills, I should have no problem overcoming the herds of man.

At the foot of our home, where the rocks meet the forest, I smell a member of my pack upwind. I stop and stand proud, my chest out and my black fur sleek. Who has come to meet me?

“Metallo,” a voice whispers up from the darkness. “I hear you’ve failed many hunts.”

I snort and turn away, familiar with the tone. I don’t have to answer to Salicar, not when he is the fool of our pack. His place as lookout and craven has long been cemented. While I must hunt, he is to stay in the safety of our mountain’s shadow. He knows little of my troubles and will no doubt mock me for my failures.

Salicar steps from the darkness and takes his place in the glory of the moonlight. His black fur—same as all from our pack—is matted and bunched, but underneath he retains some bulk, even if he isn’t needed for the hunts. He trots over to my side and keeps his head low to show submission, but the grin on his face betrays his disrespect.

“Would you let the pups go hungry if they were your own?” Salicar asks. “Not that you will ever have any, of course. The mighty beget strength, but the failures… well, we know what they pass to their children, don’t we?”

I ignore him and continue on. There’s no need to engage him in conversation.

Salicar, no doubt displeased with my silence, snaps at the heels of my back legs and I jump around with a snarl, flashing my fangs and causing the fur along my spine to stand on end. The coward crouches down and rolls to his side, tucking his tail between his legs and capitulating to my anger. When he doesn’t move, I regain my composure and stand back with a forced casual posture, resting my weight evenly on all four feet.

“Know your place,” I growl.

Again, I turn away and continue toward my destination.

Salicar stands, his black eyes reflecting against the moon to create two discs of iridescent light. “Careful,” he whispers. “If you become a rogue, the pack won’t be there to save you from starvation. The mountain will reclaim your shadow.”

I say nothing and instead dash into the gloom that permeates the forest. The evening winds rustle the leaves and agitate the sleeping birds. The sounds of wings, the crunch of detritus, and the howl of the breeze mix together in my ears into a single cacophony. It messes with my concentration and disorients me. I stop between two red cedar trees and close my eyes.

My ears hurt at all times. All sounds drill into my mind and I get dizzy. I try to ignore it—with all my might, with all my willpower—but it is a weakness I cannot overcome through fortitude alone.

The others of my pack know nothing of it, and when I was younger it didn’t stop me from hunting, but now the problem bears down on me with a soul-crushing force. How can I hunt when my ears cause me such pain?

I take in a deep breath and resume my travels at a slow pace. One or two sounds don’t bother me, but the moment I hear my own running I begin to fall prey to lightheadedness.

Although I amble, the moon and stars keep me company. The scents of man linger on the air. Smoke. Wood. Fresh earth. Man alters the land in such a way that my pack can smell them from miles away. Such odd creatures. They remind me of the bee and spider—building things to live in. Perhaps man is another form of insect.

The shadows move around my feet, offering me aid and keeping my soft steps silent.

Despite the length of time it takes me to cross the forest, I reach the other end before the midnight sets upon me. I cannot dawdle if I hope to make it back to Ba’al before the breaking of the day.

Scanning the valley below, I spot the herds of man with little difficulty. They keep fires and their nests are large. The smell of a hundred animals wafts up on the breeze to my wet nose. As a pack, hunting the herds of man is dangerous. The more of us, the more likely we are to be seen. As a solitary predator, I should be able to stalk a single beast and retreat without notice.

I creep down the hill and into the valley, slithering through the shadows like water running through the furrow of its river. Animals sleep in confined spaces—trapped by wooden posts—and I stealth to the nearest cage of goats. My magic over the darkness allows me to slink through any crevasse a shade could slip into, but I cannot mold my kill with such fluidity. If I am to retrieve a goat, I must have a way to pull it from the confinement.

A small pack of three dogs rounds the far corner of the cage and I freeze. The beasts have floppy ears and long snouts. Hounds. Capable hunters, but nothing compared to my might and magic. Perhaps I should kill one of them and be done with it, even if their meat is vile.

Before I can pounce, the dumb beasts take off into the distance, running at full tilt. I stay hidden by the darkness and watch as a man follows behind them, his two legs much slower than their four. The man holds a stick and shouts. It agitates me to see such commotion and not know what is happening. I wait, curious.

The loud bang that cracks the quiet of the night sky shatters my hearing. I yelp and jump away from the herd of man, my ears ringing. The dogs bark and the man continues to shout, adding to my confusion.

Another bang. And then another.

Each time I hear the terrible noise, a burst of light emanate from the man’s stick. Such fell magic. It frightens me, but not as much as my own failing body. The dogs are not bothered by the thunder and crack. They act as though nothing unusual is happening.

Soon the man and the dogs are climbing the hill to the forest. In the shadows I spot the fowl-loving canine that is the object of man’s deep hatred—a fox.

Stumbling forward, I attempt to return to the cage of goats, but even they are agitated and bleat together in a terrible chorus. All the sounds swirl around me. It hurts so much I retreat a second time, disgusted with myself. I am a failure, unable to handle even the simplest of tasks.

Perhaps it is my time to die.

The thought sends ice through my blood.

Even our Goddess’s moon wanes and dies, only to be reborn again. Perhaps it is better that I embrace my fate and return again next winter, with a new batch of pups. If I cannot kill a simple goat because of its whimpering cry, how am I to hunt for the pack? They have no need of me. I am a burden.

The realization calms my dread, but my heart beats twice as fast. I’m not old enough to die. I would need to facilitate my passing. No eating. No drinking.

And if I do not return to Ba’al, I will be deemed a rogue. Unable to return to the pack and forced to die away from all others.

The man and his dogs storm down the hill, returning without their fox. I don’t have the urge or willpower to deal with man’s magic. Instead, I shift into the shadows and travel back to the forest, intent to find a place to rest my broken body.

The comforting darkness of the trees welcomes me. Dying away from the pack will be hard—the hardest part of my passing—but the cool evening winds will soothe the pain.

“Please, Mother Goddess,” I whisper. “Guide me tonight… I’m lost and struggling to find purpose.”

I stare at the sky through the cracks in the canopy above. The flecks of light from the stars shimmer down. I follow what little light the moon offers until I spot a grove of trees surrounding a clearing. I head there at a slow pace, wondering if this is where the Goddess wishes me to die. As I walk to the edge of the clearing, however, I detect a faint smell on the air.

A feline.

I stand tall, my ears forward, and stare at a pure white cat seated perfectly in the center of the clearing. She is the small type of feline—a creature found in the herds of man. Her short fur, so sleek and clean, reflects the gentle glow of the moon, illuminating her like a star in the sky. She licks at her front paw, no fear about her, and then rubs her forearm across her face.

Her ear twitches and turns toward me, but the feline never faces me directly.

“Hello?” she says. “Is someone there?” Her voice is soft and clear, not loud, but distinct. She has no rush in speaking, as though nothing worries her.

I take two more steps forward, my muscles tense and my mouth salivating. Perhaps this is a gift from the Goddess herself—a star sent to Earth so that I may kill it and return with an offering. A lowly creature such as this would never stray so far from the protection of man unless it was the Goddess’s wish.

“Hello?” the cat repeats. “I know someone is there. Why won’t you answer me?”

The feline turns to face me and I freeze up. Her eyes are wide and glazed over with a milky film of white.

She’s blind.

When I remain silent, she tilts her head and her ears twitch as though straining. “I mean you no harm. There’s no need to be afraid.”

“I’m not afraid,” I murmur. There’s no reason to answer her, but confusion and curiosity still my attack. Does she think I fear her? She is the one that should be afraid.

“My name is Lunette,” she says with a weary smile. “What should I call you?”

“Oh, my. Such a fascinating name, Metallo. I have never heard it. Are you new to the herd of man? Let me guess—you are a sheep? I never got to know the names of the sheep.”

“Can you not smell what I am?”

I take another step closer, inches from her small sitting form, and I know I reek of aggression. Any beast this close should know my true nature.

“My nose works as well as my eyes, I’m afraid.” She licks at her paw and then rubs her pure white nose. Everything about her is white, save the soft pink pads of her feet.

“I am… a goat.”

Why do I lie? I don’t know. Something about this encounter makes me wish it will continue, and telling her that she stands before the maw of death will surely end all discussion.

“A goat?” Lunette says with a gentle laugh. “What silly creatures you are, wandering so far from the others when you have plenty of food in the heart of the herd!”

“Silly indeed.”

“But you should be careful, Metallo.”

“Careful?” I ask, looming over her. She’s so small; I could crunch her in half with one bite.

“Yes,” she says, her tone shifting to one of concern. “These woods are filled with shaheen—wolves that have taken the Oath of Shadows. It is the edge of winter, their time of newborns. They are surely lurking in the darkness of the night. If you are not careful, you will fall victim to their magic.”

“You know a great deal about the shaheen. I’m… surprised.”

Lunette giggles and rolls onto her back. “Surprised? All hunters who wander the forest must know of the dangers. Then again, I suppose goats do not need to know the details. Only that the woods are perilous.”

“You consider yourself a hunter?”

She lies back and stops her giggling. Her tail swishes back and forth. “It does not matter what I consider myself.”

“If you fear the shaheen, why are you here?”

“I do not fear the shaheen. I have come here to die.”

I catch my breath and hesitate. “Die?”

“That’s right.” She sits back up and brushes the leaves from her elegant coat. “I am… Well, I have a weakness that invites predators. And come spring, when it’s time for mating, I will no doubt spread my weakness to my kittens.” She curls her tail around her feet and “stares” at the ground. “My sire led me here instead of killing me outright. I’ve treasured what short time I’ve had. It’s more than I deserve.”

“So you sit and wait for death?”

“Acceptance is what keeps me here. There are some things in life you cannot change.”

“Then you need not wait any longer,” I drawl. “I am a shaheen. I will end your life.”

Lunette giggles, her velvet voice echoing between the trees. “Oh, Metallo, you are silly indeed! You make me wish I had more time to get to know you.”

“You doubt my claim?”

“You walked into the clearing with a slow gait and hesitant step. Shaheen don’t move without purpose. I would have been dead the moment we met. Why do you jest?”

“I never jest.”

She giggles again, this time with a purr. I wait as she stands—her long tail straight up—and she tilts her head from side to side, attempting to engage me in play. “What games do goats know?” she asks as she bats forward with a paw. “I will show you how cats play. We don’t have the bells that man brings me, but anything that makes noise will do. It’s so fun to chase! You will forget all worries.”

I snort and turn away. “I am too old to play.”

“This way, Metallo! I hear something!”

Lunette pounces onto a small patch of grass. A cricket leaps into the air and lands a foot away. After a moment, it sings with its legs and Lunette waggles in anticipation. She pounces, giggling the entire time, and the creature easily evades her—she has no real aim and her jovial laughing destroys all craftiness.

Despite that, she leaps again and lands on the creature, no doubt an accident, but still. Instead of eating it, like she should, Lunette stands and allows the cricket to jump away. She waggles again, a smile on her blind feline face as she prepares to leap, content to chase the insect in a game that could last forever.

To my surprise, I have an urge to join in and forget the woes of the night. Lunette makes forgetting a tangible reality. Her reservation is lost in giggles, erased by the happiness she now exudes.

“Come, Metallo! You should try. I hear goats can—” She cuts herself short and lifts her head. Her ears jerk from one side to the other and her tail puffs to twice its size. “Metallo,” she whispers. “I’m sorry, but…  You need to go.”

I stiffen and glance around. The wind brings with it a stillness that betrays the presence of predators.

“A shaheen is coming,” Lunette says as she walks back to the center of the clearing, her reserved and calm demeanor once again taking hold. “I can hear it. He’s close. Go now, before it’s too late.”

I hear nothing. My ears are terrible, and a slight ringing persists from earlier.

But I heed her command and walk out of the clearing, stopping at the edge beyond the tree line. Lunette inhales and exhales while smoothing the fur on her tail. She holds herself proud, ready for death.

Isn’t that why I came here? I watch her with great interest. Happiness came to her so easily. She’s young, not yet old enough to mother kittens, but close. Too young. But her life is a burden. She will neither hunt on her own, nor bear healthy offspring.

The shadows shift and stretch to the clearing. A shaheen steps out of them, seemingly rising up out of the earth, and stands at the opposite end of the grove. His grey and brown coat marks him as different—a member of a foreign pack. He crouches to lunge, but stops after a single inhale.

He knows I’m here.

I step out of my hiding spot and face him. He smells of desperation. He didn’t travel this far from his pack because he wanted to. He traveled this far because he’s starving.

For a moment, we regard each other, but a second later, he flashes his fangs and fills the clearing with a guttural growl, warning me away with his ears pressed flat against his skull. What a brazen, audacious statement. This is not his territory, and his presence is an assault on me and my brothers.

I step farther into the clearing, my blood hot and my mind narrowing to focus on one thing—killing him.

Lunette doesn’t move.

I leap over the feline and clash with the other shaheen, my teeth digging into his ears and face. He lashes at me with a bite, catching the scruff of fur around my neck, but nothing vital. We break apart and jump at each other again. When we collide, I slam him with my chest and dig my front claws into his legs. I’m larger, heavier, and older. With my advantage, I topple him to his side, ignoring his teeth digging into my leg and drawing blood.

Once he’s under me, I bite down on the base of his throat. Our growling and half barks of rage buzz in my ears, confusing me, so I hold my bite with all my might, refusing to let go of my advantage. Blood fills my mouth and I thrash my head from side to side, destroying as much flesh as possible. The younger shaheen uses all four of his feet to claw at my underbelly, but still I persist. I feel his muscles ripping, and soon I hear his wet rasps of breath.

He yipes and stills himself, yielding to my brute force.

It’s against the laws of nature for a shaheen bound to a different shadow to consume outsiders. I could kill him and leave his corpse, but I throw him away by the grip on his neck, and he staggers to his feet. Without uttering a word, he scurries into the darkness, forfeiting the grove to me and trailing a line of blood through the grass.

Triumphant, I take a moment to breathe deep. The sweet rush of victory leaves me hungry. I turn to see Lunette never ran. She sits, like before, in the middle of the clearing, her milky eyes vacant.

I wait, but she says nothing.

The sky is lighter, and the stars begin to disappear. If I run, I could make it back to Ba’al and the others before it is too late. I step up to the feline and she crouches down, pressing her belly against the dirt.

“You really are a shaheen,” she whispers.

For the first time since I entered the grove, she smells of fear.

Why would the Goddess create such a creature? And why would the Goddess lead me to her? There are signs and omens in this world I do not understand, yet I feel drawn to them, like birds that migrate to the place of their birth no matter the storms in their way.

The wind sweeps between us and I watch Lunette shiver. I lean down and clamp my maw around her midsection, gently easing my teeth against her soft fur. She mews once as I pick her up, her legs dangling, and I carry her from the grove. I feel her frantic heartbeat through my tongue, and for a brief thought, I consider crunching down, but I resist the urge.

Even if I killed her and brought her back to the pack, it would not solve my weakness. It would persist, and by the next moon I would return to this grove looking for another quick death. Instead, I pick the foolish option and decide to take her.

I rush through the trees of the forest—far from my mountain, far from the herds of man—and head straight for the northern river, the edge of my pack’s territory. My balance is off thanks to my ears, and my front leg is filled with pain due to the foreign shaheen. Regardless, I press on, slower than I like, trailing a thin line of blood, but ultimately leaving the valley I know so well.

Past the darkness of the thickets, past the mushrooms that grow on thick logs, past the berry bushes that attract small woodland creatures—beyond all that is the river. The flowing water beckons me when I draw near, but I don’t have time to take a drink. Instead, I get a running start and leap, the last of the moonlight shadows propelling me over and guaranteeing I make it across the ten feet of water separating me from the other side.

I land hard, my jaw closing slightly, and Lunette offers another mew. I ease up, certain I didn’t puncture her, and hobble forward. My front leg hits the dirt too hard; it practically gives out under me with each and every step.

The day breaks the night as the sun rises over the horizon. I stagger my way into a grouping of bushes and stop, releasing Lunette from my maw and panting. She doesn’t move as she listens as distant howls fill the air.

I listen as well—the songs of the shaheen carry for long distances.

“Shaheen,” she whispers, curling in on herself. “They’re crying.”

“They’re mourning my death,” I say through deep breaths. Ba’al’s song is clearer than the rest, and I take in the notes with a heavy heart. Even my broken ears pick up the edge of sorrow that lines each howl.

“Your death?”

“I am dead to them. Just as you are dead to your family.”

Lunette shivers again, despite the warm blanket of light offered to us by the sun. I scoop her up in my mouth and she doesn’t protest.

My Oath to the Shadows provides me magic only when the sun is set and the night reigns supreme. Under the warmth of a new day, I am weaker. With each step my legs threaten to quit, but I continue on regardless. The morning rays light the way through the sparse forest. The lands beyond the river aren’t as fertile.

My thoughts slip as I walk. Pain and uncertainty consume my being. My solace comes in the form of new sights and smells. I haven’t been to these lands since my youth, and I remember little.

I stop, unable to continue, and release Lunette from my maw. I would sleep, but the icy fear of the unknown keeps me awake.

Lunette doesn’t run, but she does lick her coat and straighten her fur. When the wind picks up, she shivers. I move closer to her and wrap my tail around her side. As a shaheen, the nip and sting of winter matters little. I’ve never warmed a feline—her scent stirs urges of the hunt—but I ignore them in favor of resting.

With each blink of my eyes, time passes faster and faster. I fear I am drifting in and out of sleep, but I never lie down.

I catch myself from falling over, jerking my whole body awake at once. When I open my eyes, I’m greeted with the fiery orange of dusk. It takes a moment to shake the grogginess from my mind.

Lunette is gone. I stretch and then scratch my face and neck, grimacing as my back claws catch the open cuts left by my fight. Irritated and uncertain, I glance around. Where is she?

I spot her before I call out. She sits next to a defoliating mulberry bush, its red leaves highlighting her brilliant white, and the tip of her tail twitches in rhythm. Her head is down and her ears stiff. I approach slow and cautious, thankful she hasn’t attracted a predator.

“Do you hear it, Metallo?” she whispers.

“Hear what?” I ask.

“The field mice.”

I listen. Nothing. “No.”

“They’re digging. Right here. Underfoot.”

“Are you certain?”

“As certain as the setting of the sun.”

Though I hear nothing, I dig my claws into the packed earth and rip up the dirt with a few powerful motions, throwing the excess dirt between my back legs. Sure enough, I smell the thick musk of a mouse den waft up from the new hole and I ram my muzzle as deep as I can. When I feel the frantic movements of mice, I bite hard. The rodent caught in my teeth attempts to return the favor, but I pull it from its home and crunch it in my jaws, killing the creature instantly.

Its hot blood and soft body are refreshing. The sweet taste goes down smooth as I swallow the tiny beast whole. The others scurry away.

Lunette tilts her head from side to side. “Are all shaheen so selfish?”

“Do you expect me to share such a small meal?”

She says nothing and I’m reminded of our size difference. The mouse may have been enough to keep her full for the day, but it only whets my appetite.

“Do shaheen form packs with different animals? Like how man collects beasts of all creeds for their herd?”

“No,” I say as I lick the excess blood from my lips.

“You’re sillier than I first imagined, Metallo. Why did you take me beyond the river?”

“The Goddess spoke to me. If we both were drawn to the grove to die, perhaps we were meant to do so together.”

“But you did not kill me.”

“I did not say we need die now.”

Lunette doesn’t reply to my statement. Instead, she stares, vacantly, at the hole in the ground. After a few moments, she smiles. “Then perhaps you can tell me how shaheen play. I am so very curious. I’ve never spoken with one before.”

Tsk. This cat wants nothing more than games. I suppose that’s all the young are concerned with, but still. I snort back a laugh as I remember the games of my youth. “There is a game we would play as pups that involved digging.”

I turn around and dig again, this time flinging dirt in globs over the bemused feline. She jumps up, her back arched and her fur on end. She walks her back legs forward, keeping her side to me in order to appear “bigger,” but it doesn’t make much of a difference.

“It took me the good part of the afternoon to clean my fur,” she huffs. “I had to remove your slobber and now I’m dirty!”

Lunette’s puffed tail and straight legs get me laughing. When she growls, her velvety voice makes the sound more enduring than threatening. I laugh louder. Since she cannot see, I lift a paw up and press it down on her face, knocking her over with a casual movement. She wraps her legs around my paw and gnaws on my toes—occasionally she rakes her back legs along my forearm, but she doesn’t do it with any real force behind her actions.

I quiet my laughter. “What does it matter if you’re dirty? It’s not like you can see the difference.”

Lunette stops her playing and jumps away. With her head held high, she begins cleaning the dirt from her coat. “I can feel it, thank you very much. And a queen should never be filthy. It would sully the good name of cats everywhere.”

“Such arrogant beasts.”

“Felines? I’ll have you know that—” She stops talking and her ears twitch. “Metallo, there is a fox nearby.”

“A fox? How can you be sure?”

“Its tail is bushy and scrapes the grass and leaves as it trots through the detritus. The sound is distinct.”

The birds, river, and wind mix in my ears to create a jumbled mess. I hear no fox. “I would kill it, but my leg will give out if I try to run.”

Lunette frowns. “Did I scratch you too hard?”

I chuckle. “You did not hurt me, cat. This is from the shaheen.”

“When it came to kill me?”

Lunette tilts her head again and mulls over the statement. “Shaheen are fearsome killers.”

“We are.”

“But cats are cunning.”

“So you say.”

She smiles. “Perhaps we should trick the fox.”

“Oh? You think you can trick a fox?”

“I will lure the beast and you will jump from hiding. Like when you fought the shaheen in the grove.”

I chuckle at the thought. I’ve hunted with my brothers before—coordinating our actions and acting as a team—but none played bait to lure other hunters. The meat of flesh eaters is different than those who consume the grass. The creatures that feed on vegetation are sweeter and fatter. But the meat of the fox is better than nothing.

“Fine,” I say. “Stay close and lure the fox any way you see fit.” I duck behind the mulberry bushes, my black fur mixing with the long shadows of the sunset. I do not have my magic, but I don’t need it for a simple beast.

Lunette stands and walks around, mewing a frightened meow that mimics the call a kitten makes for its mother. It agitates me, but I don’t act on my baser urges. Instead, I wait, my muscles tense. Once the fox gets close, I manage to catch sight of it. I fear the canine may pick up my scent, but the wind is powerful and it will be too late by the time the creature discovers I lie in waiting.

The vibrant red and bright white of the fox is a beautiful sight as it enters the glory of the sun’s crimson hue. Lunette continues her mews. She must know the beast is close, but she makes no indication.

The fox crouches, and then leaps. But not before me.

I meet it midair. I’m six times its size and my power overwhelms it. When I hit the ground, I dig my claws into its gut and slice it open. When the clever animal attempts to scratch my eyes, I snap at its legs and break bone. My last strike is to its throat, cutting the flesh through the fur and draining it of blood.

The beast dies and I step off the corpse to walk over to Lunette. I guide her to the body by pushing her with my muzzle. She huffs and paws my face without using her claws.

“I can figure out where you fought,” she says. “And you’re bloody! You’ve matted my fur!”

I lick her head, smearing slobber and fox blood across her face. She sits stunned and incredulous. Again, I laugh.

“Hmpf!” she says with a huff. “I’ll have you know that cats are not only crafty, but the masters of revenge!”

But I can’t continue with my mirth. Fatigue takes hold. I lie down onto my side, waiting for the darkness. Lunette stops cleaning herself to listen hard. After a moment of silence, she leans down to eat. Like the delicate feline she is, Lunette takes small bites out of the muscle, careful not to get her whiskers soaked in crimson. She swallows and then stops.

“You would let me eat first?” she asks.

“Yes,” I reply. “If not for you, we would not be eating. My hearing is not what it once was.”

“Cats and wolves never hunt together.”

“You are no ordinary cat, and I am no ordinary wolf.”

She laughs.

The sun sets fully, disappearing over the horizon. Lunette turns her head toward the fading light and lifts her ears. “They say that creatures who take the Oath of Light never get lost. They say the sun leads them to their one true home and paradise.”

I’ve heard of such tales, but they never mattered to the shaheen. I had a home—with my pack—and I had never planned to leave them.

Lunette twitches her ears. “Do you think… we have a home? Together?”

I let out a long exhale. Shaheen live on the mountain and cats live in the nests of man. Where could we both exist? I do not know the answer. “You think the sun will lead us?” I ask.

“I think we’re whole together.”

Her statement rings true in my broken ears. With her, I can hunt. With me, she is safe. Together we are complete. Together we have no weakness.

“But,” she continues, “we will be happier not as rogues, but as a pack with a home.”

“I have pledged myself to the shadows. I cannot seek guidance from the sun.”

“Then I will take the oath,” she says, holding her head up high. “And then we will find our true home.”

With the strength of the night, I stand. Yesterday I had given up on life, but with the rising of the new moon, I feel that I have never been more alive. In order to take the Oath of Light, we will need to travel far to the east. In order to make a pack, we will need to find a home. And even then, if we find ourselves a territory; we will need to add more to our ranks. The future expands ever outward to a point I can barely comprehend.

And will Lunette become a phoenix, like the birds who take the Oath of Light? Or will she be something different? I do not know.

“Come,” I say. “The night is young, and we have a long ways to go before we die.”

If you enjoyed this, please check out my best-selling sci-fi novel, STAR MARQUE RISING, or my fantasy series, KNIGHTMARE ARCANIST. Thank you again for all the support!

17 thoughts on “Audio Short Story – WEAKNESS

  1. Wonderful story, Shami, and wonderfully narrated by George K. My attention and fascination were captured from beginning to end. You have a talent for story telling that matches, in my mind, Rudyard Kipling.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you for the kind words, Ken! My day was already pretty good, but now I’ve got pep in my step. I hope I can continue to bring stories that live up to these standards. :3

  2. I agree! I love stories from the perspective of animals. My favorite story like that is Watership Down by Richard Adams (you should check it out if you’ve never read it!)

    And consider joining my newsletter – I give away short stories (both written and audio) just like this one!

    1. There’s another book by Richard Adams you might like. It’s called Shardik, and it’s about a sacred bear, told from the bear’s perspective. It’s been decades since I read it, so I don’t remember much else about it, except that I found it gripping. I think I finished reading it in a day or two, because I could hardly put it down.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. He also wrote The Plague Dogs (which I liked a lot) so I will definitely check out Shardik! And I agree with your other comment – I love stories told from the perspective of animals. I’ve read tons of them, from the Rats of NIHM to things like Redwall (even though that’s more people-who-like-animals rather than actual animals). I’m so happy you enjoyed my short story! I have others on my blog, if you’d like. Happy reading! :3

  3. I 💘 loved this short story
    It was well written
    It was so sweet
    I love stories about animals
    I can’t wait for another short story
    Fixed rule and wolves too 😁,
    Thank you for this sweet read
    Mrs. Maria Keesler

    Liked by 1 person

  4. I really loved this story, and the narration by George K. was exactly right. I like stories told from the animals’ perspective, and I really appreciate the way the characters developed, individually and in regard to each other.

  5. I kept thinking about this story last night, and I realized the thing that really makes it special. You have two very different creatures – natural enemies – each of whom has a weakness that they believe makes them unfit to live. By chance, they both go to the same place to die, and ultimately discover that together, they can live.

    I love this!

    Liked by 1 person

      1. I love this book
        Especially now if two people with weaknesses join forces the the become stronger together,and they become each others strength 💪
        Maria Keesler

  6. I really liked the story. I wanted to hear more. They is such an important lesson in it and the narrator was perfect.

  7. I thorioughly enjoyed this story. The wolf wasn’t weak he was handicapped by his ears. The cat was endowed with better hearing than most. Such a lovely couple.

Leave a Reply to Stovall Cancel reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s


WARC-Identified-Payload-Type: application/xhtml+xml

text:
Street Supper Club and Movie Night – Thursday, September 30

On September 29, 2010, in Events, by satnightfoodies

Central Park West will host Street Supper Club and Movie Night featuring To Catch A Thief. Bringing in six of Orange County’s hottest trucks.  This is the first nighttime gourmet food truck event at this site.  They have a very good turn out when they do lunch events at this location.

Make sure you bring some chairs to sit on so you can stick around watch the movie and eat some great food.  The event starts at 5:30 and will go to 9:30pm.  To Catch A Thief will begin at 7:30pm.
There will be six of Orange County’s most followed gourmet food trucks:

Chunk-n-Chip – BOO-Yah! Truck (@ChunknChip)

The Lime Truck – California Beach Cuisine (@TheLimeTruck)
Seabirds – Vegetarian Catering Truck (@SeabirdsTruck)

Barcelona on the Go – Spanish Cuisine Truck (@Brcelonaonthego)

Dan Dan BBQ – Asian Fusion (@DanDanBBQ)
Piaggio On Wheels – Argentine Taco Truck (@PiaggioOnWheels)
Oh For Sweets Sake – Cupcakes (@ohforsweetssake)

Central Park West
(Michelson & Teller)
21 Gramercy
Irvine, CA 92612

View Larger Map


text:
survival Tag

Guest post by Natalie Richardson Until last year I thought the phrase "patient advocacy" was terminology for action that other people take in the distant lots of big city hospitals, or with pickets across Parliament Hill. People throwing big words at medical problems, fighting for the...

Show Buttons
Hide Buttons


text:
sbEarth - Environmental Club

Environmental club

We're environmentally conscious at SBHS! This club works to educate the members and others on ways to help protect the environment and the health of organisms in it, including humans! Topics and projects might include global warming, water pollution, recycling, and endangered species. Fundraisers for environmental organizations and field trips are planned. If you care about the long-term wellness of our planet, then join us and make a difference!

Meeting Location: C306

Meeting Dates: 10/3, 10/17, 11/14, 11/21, 12/5, 12/19, 1/9, 1/23, 2/6, 2/20, 3/5, 3/12, 3/26, 4/2, 4/23, 5/21, 6/11

Advisor: Ms. Racz and Ms. Wohl