remember when every day there’d be,  like,  a new psa post that sprung up every time there was drama on this website & everyone on the dash reblogged so you felt pressured to reblog it too & almost every one of these posts were from only one blog

Ruran Vas was slouching against the wall atop his bed, not feeling comfortable enough to tuck himself beneath the covers. His sword lay on the blanket beside him.

It was not until late in the night that the knight could no longer resist sleep, and he fell under. He had been fidgeting for the past bell, paranoid dreams filling his head and keeping true rest beyond reach. A cold sweat had formed on his forehead and neck. This was not unusual for him; sleep was a fickle friend.

His hands gripped the sheets as his body shocked itself into waking. The soulstone flickered against him, silently attempting to calm the rousing dreamer. Shallow breaths huffed behind his mask. Not yet fully aware, he instinctively gripped the hilt of his sword for assurance.

“Ruran…?” Ellere Valahan called gently, taking hesitant steps toward the bed. She remained just out of reach, well aware what her presence could do in his state. She eyed the hand on his sword with a small, quiet frown. “You are all right, dear…” she continued, in a soft voice. “You are in the Shroud. It was… just a dream.”

She wished that it all had been a dream. Ellere herself looked as if sleep had eluded her as well. She was dressed in a house coat, hair brushed and looped in a loose ponytail that rested over her shoulder. It seemed she had been up for some time, despite the late bell.

Ellere seemed caught, wanting to offer comfort but still unsure if she was allowed, knowing her part in his torment. Biting her lip, she turned back to distract herself by pouring a glass of water to offer him quietly.

Ruran froze at the sound of her voice, his breath hitching in his throat and his fingers curling around the hilt. The stone continued to wordlessly pulse reminders into the knight. She was not his enemy. All was well.

Slowly, he released the blade and accepted the drink. He was not ready to make eye contact yet, instead bowing his head in gratitude. His hands trembled, ripples of water gently lapping against the glass. He worked to calm his breathing. All was well. All was well.

“I–apologize…” He held the glass on his lap to lessen his hands’ slight tremors. “I hope I did not wake you…”

Ellere took a deep breath, dropping her eyes away from his struggle momentarily. But she shook her head in question, replying quietly, “No… I was already awake. I still… dream of what could have been. I imagine, you do as well.”

Slowly, she moved to sit on the edge of his bed. A hesitant hand rose up and tucked away the loose hair around his masked face. Then it lowered, and just as slowly moved to rest over one of his trembling has around the glass.

Ruran had removed his armor in an act of good faith when he settled into the cabin, and his shoulders slumped at her words. He forced himself not to flinch as she touched his hair and slid his hand over his. She was not his enemy, all was well, all was well, the little stone glimmered.

“I cannot imagine how it–must have felt,” he quietly spoke, trying to ground himself in reality and not the hellish visions that had overwhelmed him moments ago. “A-and to think I…I could be broken so swiftly…”

“You fought–” she caught herself, realizing it was something she had said before when she was not herself, You fought so hard. Ellere remembered it, and remembered how he had responded. After a moment of silence, she tried again, “There are not many who could be as strong as you were. You shouldered so much… when… when some in the company chose to run. Chose to hide away. You were always there.”

She continued to hold her hand over his, running gentle circles over the skin with her thumb. “I… used to pride myself in my aetheric knowledge. I once thought I would be strong enough to know such changes in myself before it was too late… but I keep thinking what I almost did, what I had… and I remember your face. All of it haunts me.”

A trembling free hand rose to touch his mask, face hidden beneath it. Had it changed since then? Likely not, judging by the dark shadows under his eyes. Moons–if not cycles–of his well-being swinging back and forth like a pendulum had finally stuck on the malnourished side with a vengeance. All for the better that he kept the mask on, despite staring down at the full glass of water.

Comfort and wariness conflicted in his mind at her closeness. He longed for it–he always did to some extent, but he could not bring himself to let his guard down. Even if he wanted to. He hated this fear.

“It was unlike anything any of us had seen. Even Ari'doram did not understand it…” His head shook. “I still do not understand…nor do I know how to move forward. How long will you stay here..?”

Again, she watched him internally struggle, her words stirring things she wished she had not. Ellere’s eyes dropped away, “I… do not know. I needed to know I was my own person again. I needed to find forgiveness. You coming here… in part, has given me something I was seeking.”

“But I know, healing does not come alone, nor does it come quickly,” she continued, looking back to him. “We can only walk one step at a time, Ruran… and perhaps, as we wait for the normalcy to return, slowly, we will realize it already has.”

She shifted closer, gently taking the glass from him and setting it aside. “Will you let me try to help you sleep…? No magic, I swear that to you.”

Ruran stayed quiet for several long beats. Alas he mulled over her words, the fingertips of his free hand fidgeted against the sheets beside him. Normalcy… Such a thing seemed too far gone, especially for one such as him.

Still, he would try. At her request, he looked toward her with his tired eyes. His stone flickered, assuring it would alert Ruran if magic was used, and awaken him should anything seem amiss. The knight offered a slow nod. “Yes,” he softly agreed, “Of course. What do you intend to do..?”

When he looked to her, she managed a small, tired smile in return. “Here…” Ellere shifted back to lean herself against the headboard, trying to guide him to lay back down, head upon her lap. As he did, she would raise her hands to gently cup each side of his mask, an equally gentle and quiet question after, “May I…?”

With @weepingknight

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Game of chess anyone?

This is pretty cool. What we are seeing here is an area of 23 x 20 kilometres along the Idaho-Montana border crammed between Clearwater and Bitterroot National Forests. You will notice a checkerboard pattern within the land area; each square covering an area of around 1.6 x 1.6 kilometres. Each square hosts trees, which are harvested at different times and have different timber densities and regrowth stages. As a result, this natural pattern has formed.

The image was taken with the Advanced Spaceborne Thermal Emission and Reflection Radiometer (ASTER) on-board Terra, the flagship satellite of NASA’s Earth Observing System (EOS).


Image courtesy of NASA

🌳🌳Pagans for Puszcza🌳🌳

Dear Pagan Tumblr,

There is something I want to ask of you today.

As some of you may know, I am Polish. As some of you may also know, Poland is currently having big problems with its borderline-totalitarian government.

That government is doing all sorts of incredibly harmful things to our country, on all fronts - from commercial laws through women’s rights and ending with ecological vandalism.

The territory of Poland contains a part of Puszcza Białowieska (Białowieża Forest) - a vestige of a primeval forest that has once covered most of Europe. It is a thing, a place, an organism of immense beauty and value, recognised by UNESCO.

However, the current government is not interested in things like that. Motivated by greed, by sheer arrogance, and by hatred of everything that falls outside their extremely narrow, rightwing-bigoted-christian morals, the government has changed the environmental laws and allowed for the Puszcza to be treated like any other state-governed woodland. Which means not only human intervention in its natural processes (such as removing fallen trees, which interferes with the normal cycle of an ecosystem) but also allows logging.

Yes. The government has allowed for trees to be cut down in the last vestige of UNESCO-protected primeval forest.

The EU is trying to pressure them to stop, but it becomes increasingly apparent that they are simply too stupid, or too arrogant, to do that. Brought before the European Commission, a Polish Minister claimed the EC “has their facts wrong.”
Many citizens of Poland are afraid that the actions of the government are a deliberate attempt to have Poland thrown out of the EU.

What does all that have to do with the Pagan tumblr? Well, I want to ask for your help.
There are many ways in which you can help. The best way is, of course, money, but I know most of witchlr is broke young people, so today I’m talking about something else.
(If you nevertheless want and can help financially, I will write a separate post about that).

Many among the activists fighting to stop the logging are Pagans of various shades. Some of them are currently in the Puszcza Camp - a small campsite of activists set inside the Puszcza proper, where they physically stop the logging activities by chaining themselves to the harvester machine wheels.
Those of us who cannot be there physically assist them in other ways, such as making it possible for them to leave work, picking up the slack they leave behind, chipping in for the fines they get (they get fined for each day of “obstruction”), and prayers.

Today, October 19th 2017, on the new moon, a group of Pagan activists has arranged to perform mass rituals in order to help and encourage those fighting for the Forest, as well as the Forest itself. Our rituals are to start today on 19:00 CET, but as the activists camp there for weeks, I don’t think the time is the most important part of it.

Our group decided to use the symbol pictured below as our spiritual anchor - every sub-group (or solitary practitioner) will do their thing tonight, but including this symbol as a demonstration of intent. One of us who is present on site has made the same symbol out of twigs out there, consecrated it in her own rite, and left it in the forest.

That is our anchor, that is where we send our energy, our magic, our prayers.

If any of you want and can do the same, I strongly encourage you to do so, and thank you from the bottom of my heart.