forest loss

siriusly-random  asked:

79: “ Stop hogging all the blankets! ” nalu!

79: “ Stop hogging all the blankets! ” (prompt from here)

They were camping in the forest after a series of events that were downright unfortunate, but too unimportant to be mentioned because Lucy was currently in the process of trying to sleep and didn’t much want to remember how they got into this mess. It wasn’t their first time in the forest since they often cut through the woods to cut a few days off their journey home, but this was the first time they were in a forest without any idea of how they got into the forest.

It was a big question. The type of question that kept a person up all night after hours of walking around in a never-ending forest, lamenting the loss of civilization because surely this was the post-apocalyptic future in which nature overrides society. Hey, it made sense, really, because the tree they passed twenty times before was only so familiar because that was where her house used to be before the apocalypse.

Strangely, sleep wasn’t working out and Lucy huffed, rolling onto her back where an uncomfortable rock decided to jab her shoulder. She rolled again, away from it, tugging the blankets with her as she went. 

Natsu grumbled, one of his eyes peeking open to stare at her. “Stop hogging all the blankets,” he said groggily, voice thick with sleep and his eyes falling closed again. Blindly, he reached across the makeshift bed on the floor to drag her and the blanket back over. He scooted back towards his edge, pulling her along with him till she was clear of the rock and then he settled again. “There, now sleep.” 

A long moment passed while Lucy struggled to calm her mind. 

Natsu opened his eyes again, more awareness in them than before, and he sighed. “You’re thinking a lot, Lucy.”

“Can’t stop.”

“Mm, I know,” he said, shifting onto his back. Without hesitation, he reached across the gap between them, minimal though it was, and dragged her closer to him. She didn’t protest, letting him curl his arms around her and draw her so close that her head rested on his chest. He adjusted the blanket over them and then settled his hand on her back, running his fingers through her hair gently. She sighed, pressing herself firmly into his side, the warmth of him piercing the cold fog that had enveloped her since they arrived in the forest.

Finally, finally, she drifted off to sleep. When she woke to the songs of birds and feel of his arms wrapped tightly around her, she pressed a kiss against his cheek in thanks and a jolt of magic broke the spell that trapped them in the forest. 

anonymous asked:

What is stewarding a forest?

Stewarding means officially agreeing to protect, maintain and invest in the forest. These agreements are generally life long or at least very long term. Trees live a long time and they don’t think in terms of weeks, months or even years, but more like decades or centuries. Until recently most most people rarely travelled away from where they were born, only certain members of society did all the movement and usually those people were always on the go–sailors, nomadic groups, bards, and messengers. For folk healers who lived in a village committing to a lifetime or even committing your family line to a forest was conceivable. In modern times, witches have accidentally gotten into commitments they did not understand, the result was when they were forced to leave do to the concerns of modern life (divorce, eviction by landlord, job loss, etc) they longing and sadness they carry and pain from the forest for the loss of stewardship has been terrible for some.

Javan Tiger

Javan tigers (Panthera tigris sundaica) were last positively recorded from Meru Betiri National Park in 1976, and likely disappeared from much of the rest of the island by the 1940s. The causes of extinction include hunting of the tigers and their prey and loss of forest habitat to agriculture on this densely populated Indonesian island. Like Sumatran tigers, Bali and Javan tigers were quite small, although male Javan tigers could grow larger than Sumatrans, perhaps due to Java’s large mammal community that is not present in Sumatra. There is also fossil evidence of tigers from Borneo and from Palawan in the Philippines, where they went extinct about 12,000 years ago. However, controversial evidence suggests those on Borneo may have survived until as recently as about 200 years ago.

Prove It (8/?) [Ft. Reader x Loki]

Summary: Loki receives a marriage proposal from a young princess and accepts, becoming King of his own realm. However, he gets more than he bargains for as he learns that the kingdom has more than meets the eye and he finds himself in the middle of something sinister. What will he do when he falls in love with his wife and her life is at risk?…

Originally posted by theredladyy

Prove It - Masterlist

Warnings: Semi graphic violence.

This is all so new and exciting to you as you take in all Ambreathia has to offer, you skip along a dirt path through a colorful forest. You begin to hum and the entire forest begins to glow, you spin around as the glowing colors merge together. You laugh and stop humming / spinning, the glow of the forest fades but you don’t notice.

Everything is so colorful and full of life, birds are chirping up in the tress as their branches dance in the soft wind. Your fingers brush over plants that are growing out of the ground, they feel so soft against your skin. You rush ahead when you see a bridge, holding onto the rails you lean over and marvel at the stream below you.

It’s so clear that you can see the rocks on the bottom, you look to the side of you and pick a flower from a plant and drop it. You smiled when it floats downstream and you walk across the bridge. You stop and look up at the branches of the trees, they stopped moving.

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Every night at 2 am.

Loss is the one shared quality prevailing in all of those who are taken before their time. But with that loss comes the caveat of something that was had, something worth celebrating. The dead are remembered and their descendants prevail in their stead keeping all the lessons taught while assured of the finality of death and mournful of it.

But not all who are laid to rest remain so. Some return.

Few, in their life long fit of stagnation, develop an inner rage. A hatred of themselves and of others so white hot that it prevails beyond entombment. The seething envy of what was long desired but never had fuels their soul to rise as a ghastly husk with newfound power over the living. In death they seek to claim what artifacts and persons they could never have otherwise. But they are bound by otherworldly rules such that even with an ability to claim what they will they can never have enough to satiate the unbearable need. They become more bold, more dangerous and with growing numbers they claw and tear like starved dogs all for but a moment of respite.

They set sights upon this house one week ago and each night since under the cover of snowfall they have invaded. Without sound, not a scratch or gust of air they drift through the walls in search of her son. This activity will continue indefinitely until both mother and child are sucked dry of all life and will to care. She knows this because it has happened before. This town is intertwined in the goings on of unnatural creatures, things that exist outside our realm yet have a vested interest in its functions. Most of the people hear are unknowing pawns drawn in with the promise of long life and ample food and drink entirely ignorant that what is given is not a gift. There are a select few who in their own potentially miss-guided efforts are here to pursue interests of their own.

“Do not take my child!” someone must have cried in the face of losing their kin to the nightly raids, to pass the burden along. Admittedly those of a lesser fortitude should be driven mad by the spirits’ horrid consistency and in such case is it not reasonable to do any and all one can to protect those they love? Regardless, she had endured so much to keep him hidden as all who live in this place must do to guard what they value most. She is no saint, she would not sacrifice herself to better her moral stance, taking onus to satiate these spirits with her own blood. Passing on a curse only secures ones position for it to return some day with considerably more terrifying force. She had always thought highly of her ability to suffer at great cost in favour of even greater benefits and this is one such situation. The dead offer a glimpse into a world of knowledge outside the reach of ordinary experience.

“One and all, ghosts evoke a less dignified existence than those of maggots, so do not pity them. They are all but waste fit only for the harvest of their gullible, putrid hearts.”


Beautiful fields of Sarracenia leucophylla, the White-Topped Pitcher Plant, in Baldwin Co., Alabama. Unfortunately upwards of 95% of native American Sarracenia pitcher plant fields such as these have been eradicated in the name of human progress and development in the South-Eastern US. Many botanic authors of yesteryear waxed poetically about the endless horizons of colorful Sarracenia pitchers once found in American swamps and forest edges. Truly, the loss of these ecosystems is heart-wrenching.  [not my photos]

The Harvest –  Matt Moss

‘When we lose the sense of what we truly are we lose all respect for how we came to be.’

Fallow deer were introduced into the UK in the 1st century by the Romans. The management of wild deer has become an environmental necessity due to primary factors created by the expanse and development of modern humans. These primary factors are; rapid expansion in agriculture, Significant loss of forest habitat, extinction of natural predators and the introduction of non-native deer species. Fallow deer populations have increased dramatically in the last century, agriculture provides a plentiful food source, fragmented forests provide shelter and mortality from predators does not occur. Grazing and browsing of plants from an over population of fallow deer has had critically noticeable effects on forest diversity. It is for this reason foresters and wildlife biologists undertake research regarding deer impact and implement a sensitive method of reducing numbers through hunting. Fallow deer are majestic creatures, they command respect and sensibility. Education is the key to understanding our natural world. It highlights the burdens we impress on the land and it should guide us to live responsibly.

At nightfall, where we cross over. A dark place, like sea-depths. I touch the crack and something leaks through, like insanity, like how I only knew myself when I was drowning. I encase you in wild-words, I call you: baby, forest-heart, the winter of no return. Did you forget me? Did you forget that in the dream, I always burn silver.

Sea-Depths, Michelle Tudor (36/52)


The heart grew cold, it let its wings down by Sus

Dark Corners - The Sequel

The sequel to Dark Corners which doesn’t necessarily have to be read first in order to enjoy the story, but it might be nice to understand.


Harsh breathing and bodies that were warm and pliable is evidence enough of their reunion after memories are returned. Regina tangles with a leg around Robin’s and his lips graze across her forehead, finding the cut there from her fall in the boathouse. It’s nothing life threatening, that’s been established, and the heady warmth surrounding them now is enough to quell any lingering thoughts about flying monkeys and wicked witches.

Regina’s lips trail across his chest, stopping over the beating of his heart and recognizing the distinct lack of feeling beneath her own skin. It’s startling, how not having a way to channel her emotions doesn’t stifle the feelings she has for him, and she wonders if it’s because those feelings began months ago in the Enchanted Forest, despite the memory loss afterward. If it’s something stronger than their hearts know.

“I was cruel to you,” she murmurs softly, faces so close that their noses are touching at the tips. “I remember now. I pushed you away.”

“Indeed.” He doesn’t argue, facts are facts, but he does forgive, his lips seeking out hers in a soft kiss. “You never did let me explain anything. But then we were cursed again, so I suppose it hardly matters.”

“No, it matters. Tell me. Tell me what you were going to say before I ran away from you." Again, she adds silently.

His eyes meet hers, wondering if it’s worth it to open old wounds now or if they should simply move on, put it behind them. But the way her eyes are trained on his, he can deny her nothing.

"I would have liked having the chance to show you what you’re worth, rather than making you think you were only wanted for one thing.”

Looking away from him, she laughs softly though it’s not humor filled. She pushed him away for assuming he pitied her, and if that’s not pathetic she isn’t sure what is, but it seems he’s not letting her wallow in her mistake. 

“I should have made my intentions clear before. But you did look rather fetching in your gown, and you were kissing me quite roughly.” His eyes sparkle in good humor, hand skimming down her waist now to rest on her hip.

“Excuse me? You pulled me into the hallway, not the other way around.”

His shrug is easy and light. “Details. If I recall, you found me here in the forest and made quite the bold statement.”

There’s a slight blush then and she clears her throat. “Well, I was feeling inspired. I didn’t notice you complaining.”

“Oh no, not at all. I’m still not. Though, you should know I want you, all of you, but not because of whatever reasons the king had for wanting you.”

She shifts against him, buying herself time. “What do you know about that?”

His hand finds her hair, fingers trailing along silken tendrils. “I know you roamed those castle halls like a ghost. That you avoided one particular room that upon further inspection was once the king’s chambers. I know that any tales of the new young queen that managed to reach my ears long ago were only of how she looked on her husband’s arm. Young and fair and covered in jewels. It all paints quite the picture.”

His voice has gone soft and she says nothing, proof enough that he’s right, in any case.

“You deserve better, and I may be a simple thief, but I know enough about kindness.”

“Like I said. I was the one who was cruel. Unkind. But you pulled me in, you…” Her cheeks flush at the memory despite the fact that they are now naked and twined together. “You didn't want anything. My life has certainly been many things, but giving without taking has never been common.”

Something aches in his chest at that, and his lips seek out hers, trailing to her neck. “I do want you. If you’ll have me.”

She laughs, a clear and light sound as she rolls on top of him, hands pinning to his shoulders. “I’ll have you.” And she does, more than once before her limbs shake and she can’t bring herself to move any longer. She drifts, warm and content, secure and safe.

He gets her heart as promised. He gives; she tells him of the tattoo. He gives and gives and she takes him eagerly, almost greedily. She was a wilting flower, soaking up everything he had to give and coming back to life.

And then, on a night that turns unusually cold, he takes.

Takes his family back.

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