Hunting - Tumblr Posts
Dragon Tamer - Book 1 - Chapter 5 (on Wattpad) https://my.w.tt/SqmiXN9chbb Marcie is an oddity in her village, the daughter of a widower with both village and outsider blood in her veins. She cares for her drunken father, and struggles to fit in with the rest of the village. Everything changes when she comes across two dragons, a mother and her new born, and unwittingly becomes the Tamer of the baby dragon when his mother dies. This new unlikely bond completely changes her life and opens doors to her future that she would have never thought possible whilst also causing her pain and heartache.
Dragon Tamer - Book 1 - Chapter 1! (on Wattpad) https://www.wattpad.com/589351-dragon-tamer-book-1-chapter-1?utm_source=web&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=share_reading&wp_uname=JosephKindopp1&wp_originator=8iLGrIZJkpsB6ulv441WPropKNwSWhQChG89i25W8VDVf%2FSnaXOH14UpAk3mWav0qFirNV1dOe5KhUFZAAdZeM16CKkKlRKGtj5fXM8G0%2BVzlC9iQDuw6GFJ7sbmMhyd Marcie is an oddity in her village, the daughter of a widower with both village and outsider blood in her veins. She cares for her drunken father, and struggles to fit in with the rest of the village. Everything changes when she comes across two dragons, a mother and her new born, and unwittingly becomes the Tamer of the baby dragon when his mother dies. This new unlikely bond completely changes her life and opens doors to her future that she would have never thought possible whilst also causing her pain and heartache. (I know wattpad is knd of dying off, but this is worth it!!!!!) please share around,
May the new forms take shape & continue the traditions previously lost. With the old fishing form needing special permission, at least this hurdle can help with the other forms to adapt to modern settings. Attush Mopet is continuing the benefit of others through this path.
More on Atsushi Monbetsu can be found here: http://kai-hokkaido.com/en/town_vol31_job_hunter/
Looks like someone went hunting on their birthday?
NPC Tales: Gay Pining
"I love you!" Iren cried.
Eberle let her crossbow drop to her side. At this point, scoring a wild boar was out of the question. She looked over at Iren. The girl was beautiful. Sleek raven hair, olive skin crossed with small scars, and eyes... that she couldn't see. Iren wore a metal mask over her eyes. The two sets of three small slits didn't give Eberle a window into her soul, just closed shutters blocking her out.
"I'd prefer if you didn't," Eberle replied.
"Why?!" asked Iren.
"I still don't know you, Iren!" Eberle said, "I don't know what your face looks like. I only ever see you in your uniform. I don't know you." She turned away from Iren and walked down the rocky shore of the small stream they were following. "And you don't know me."
Iren took a deep breath. She waited a long time before saying anything. For a while, Eberle was scared Iren would teleport away in a flutter of loose papers. But then, she spoke. When she did, her voice was small, quivering on the verge of breaking. Far from her normal husky gravel.
"This crosses some major boundaries for me," Iren said, her lip trembling as she walked toward Eberle, "But I love you more than I've loved anyone in my entire life. Promise me you won't tell anyone about what happens next."
"Iren," Eberle said, "I-Iren, you don't have to do anything if you're not comfortable-"
"No," Iren said, "I need to do this."
"No, you don't. I didn't mean-!"
Iren grabbed the edges of her mask. The magic keeping it attached to her face vanished. As she pulled it away, her entire body started trembling. Eberle couldn't tell if it was nerves or something else... until she looked up.
Iren's eyes were a solid white glow. Glowing cracks streaked out from her eyes toward her temples. The comparatively paler skin only added to the effect, giving her upper face a ghostly, almost angelic look.
"Wow," Eberle said, "So that's what's under there."
"Uh-huh," Iren grunted. White light shone through her gritted teeth. Her hands writhed at her sides, as if she were in intense pain and trying to keep herself from screaming. "Can I put the mask back on now?"
"Yes, yes!" Eberle said, "Oh my goodness, darling, put it back on!"
Iren slammed the mask back onto her face so hard she sent a line of blood tricking down her nose. She slumped into Eberle, panting. Eberle put her arms around Iren.
"Does that hurt?" asked Eberle.
"So much," choked Iren, "But it was worth it, right? Did I prove myself?"
"Iren, darling, you don't need to prove yourself to me," Eberle said. She stroked Iren's hair as her head laid on her shoulder. "But I've been hurt before by rushing into a relationship. If love is true, then it will last for eternity. I'm not going anywhere. I won't leave you. I just need time. You, Iren Vozalt, are worth waiting for."
Heriotzan Horror Hunters (Part 1)
Marcela’s shaky fingers pushed bullets into a magazine. The bucking of the pickup truck on the uneven ground made it worse. Today was the first time she would be allowed to go out with the hunters. She was determined not to show her fear, but her hands were betraying her!
“Need a hand?” came a voice from across the truck bed. Marcela looked up from her work, accidentally releasing the magazine spring and spilling bullets all over the bed. Sitting across from her was Salvador, a hunter no more than two years her senior. Short curls of hair peeked out from beneath a fur-lined cap. He held a rifle similar to hers: a surplus battle rifle from a previous war. It must have been Moltavian. Apart from the fact that it was painted with a desert khaki finish, it had a distinctive carrying handle and a push-button bolt release.
“No,” Marcela lied, “I can handle myself.” She bent over to pick up her bullets.
“No no no,” Salvador said, “There’s no shame in asking for help.” He picked up the rest of her bullets and took the magazine from her hand. “This is your first hunt, yes?”
“It is.”
“You’re already doing much better than I did.” Salvador laughed. He gracefully thumbed the bullets into the magazine, one by one. “I threw up on my first hunt. Coffee and bocadillos all over the back of this very truck! In fact, I think you’re sitting where it landed.”
Marcela shifted over to the other side of the truck. Salvador handed back her magazine, now fully loaded.
“Thank you,” Marcela said.
Suddenly, the truck stopped. The two other trucks stopped next to it. Marcela and Salvador were about to hop out when the driver stuck his hand out the window.
“Wait!” she hissed, “Shh!”
All three trucks turned off their engines. Marcela changed her breathing, taking in small shallow breaths through her mouth to reduce the sound in her head. She kept her ears open to all the sounds of the plains. Short, dry grass rustled in the whistling wind. The loudest sound was Marcela tracing her hand up and down the handguard of her rifle, trying to find a good position to hold it.
Then, she heard it. Or rather, felt it. A tremor in the ground. A ripple passed under the line of trucks. Marcela looked down and noticed that they were parked on barren, rocky ground. Much harder than the soft soil ahead. Something to take note of for future hunts.
One of the hunters in another truck tossed a rock into the soil patch ahead of them. There was a thump as it hit the ground. Then, dirt spewed up from the ground like a fountain. Two sharp scythe-like appendages pushed out of the dirt, followed by two more, and a third pair, carrying a scaled body backed with chitin. A long neck held up a reptilian head. Mandibles clicked over a toothy jaw. Large beady eyes scanned the creature’s surroundings.
“Now!” shouted the driver of their truck. Marcela steadied her rifle on the top of the truck. She placed the notch of the front sight right over the half-insect, half-reptile monster. A volley of deafening gunshots tore into the creature. Bright green blood splattered across the ground. The creature charged toward them, letting out an unearthly trill. Two chitinous spikes flew out from somewhere in its carapace. The first one scraped along the truck to Marcela’s left. The second crashed right through her truck’s front window.
“Gah!”
Suddenly, the truck bed shifted. Marcela glanced down to see Salvador lying on his back, clutching his side. His shirt and jacket were stained red.
“Salvo!” she cried, “Are you alright?”
“Keep shooting!” Salvador grunted, “I’ve had worse.”
Marcela turned back to the creature, who was almost upon them now. It reared its head back like a wolf howling at the moon. When it brought its head back down, it let out a spray of acid from its mouth. Marcela covered her face. The few droplets that connected with her skin burned like hell. She heard the driver cursing in the front seat.
The creature still had its mouth open. Marcela focused her aim and dumped the rest of her magazine down its throat before it had a chance to turn away. The creature coughed up a few weak spurts of green blood and collapsed against the hood of their truck.
The dust settled, and the ringing in Marcela’s ears subsided enough that she could hear the voices of the other hunters.
“Ah, come on!” cried the driver, “The windshield, the paint! This will cost a fortune to fix!”
“Ayy! The newbie kills on her first hunt!” cheered one of the hunters in another truck.
Salvador patted Marcela on the back. “Good job! You’re… ow… you’re very good at this!” He looked at the bloody handprint he left on the back of Marcela’s jacket. “Oh. Sorry.”
-----------------------------
Marcela and Salvador had a couple extra passengers on the ride back to their camp. The body of the monster, apparently called a kruthik, was tied down in the bed of another truck. Salvador, freshly bandaged, now only grimaced at the other hunters talking about how he threw up on his first hunt.
Then, the camp came into view. Several large green tents were set up around a central open area. A full stove and oven were set up on one side of the camp. An older man stood there, chopping up vegetables for some kind of soup. The cook’s apprentice stirred a vat of broth, her hands unsteady on the unreasonably large spoon. The smell of calda Pelea hit the hunters. Right next to the old man was the tent where the monsters they killed were gutted and skinned. Across the camp, a woman surrounded by a crowd of teenagers wrote equations on a whiteboard. Two figures huddled over a table, picking around on a disassembled shotgun. Surrounding the tents was a wall of camper vans and RVs. All of them had been reinforced with steel plates and decked out with wood pallet watchtowers and floodlights. A single large generator hummed as it tried to keep all the machinery powered.
Marcela hopped down from the truck and offered a hand up to Salvador. “Need a hand, milady?”
“Shut your open sewer of a mouth,” grumbled Salvador, taking Marcela’s hand and letting her help him down. It seemed his wound had made him grumpy.
Several children ran up to the hunters.
“What’s that?”
“It looks like a bug.”
“Can I touch it?”
“No, no, no!” said another hunter, “Jara, where is your brother? He should have been watching you!” She took her child by the hand and led him back into the camp. Marcela’s gaze followed the mother until it fell upon a familiar sight. A man in a wheelchair sat off to the side. Smiling eyes peeked out from behind his round glasses.
“Papa!” Marcela said. She slung her rifle over her shoulder and strode across the campground to him.
“Mija!” Marcela’s father kissed her on the cheek. Then, he noticed the burnt splotches on her face. She winced with pain as he touched one. “Acid burns. Did that thing hurt you?”
“Not that bad.”
“I swear to Novus, if that kruthik laid a finger on you, I’d grow working legs and stomp down its whole hive.”
Marcela laughed.
“It stabbed me!” Salvador said, “It laid a finger on me, Señor Andrade!”
“Yes, yes, whatever,” Sr. Andrade said, not even looking at Salvador, “Who struck the killing blow?”
Marcela waited a moment for dramatic effect. “Me!”
Sr. Andrade’s eyes lit up. “No!” he gasped.
“Yes! I killed it!”
Sr. Andrade cackled like a madman. “I always said my daughter was a natural-born hunter! I’m so proud of you, mija!” He looked into her eyes, and a pensive look came over him. “I’ve told you how I feel about my… situation.” He gestured to his legs.
“Yes, Papa,” Marcela said.
“I was born this way. I was never fit to be a hunter. Not just my legs. Look at these hands!” He held up his hands. His fingers were long and thin. They looked like they would break if he ever tried to pull a trigger. Marcela knew better, of course. Every good hunter knew that looks were deceiving. “But if I may indulge in some selfishness…”
“Of course, there’s plenty of selfishness to go around.”
“Seeing you doing what I could not, and not only that, but also enjoying it! It makes me feel like I’m providing for the tribe. Like I’m less of a burden.”
“Oh, you’re not a burden, Papa!” Marcela groaned, “You have to stop thinking like that! You’re the smartest person in this tribe.”
“A trait I passed on to you, it seems. You have your mother’s strength and your father’s smarts. But that good heart of yours, that’s your own, querida.”
Marcela looked over at the truck where two of the hunters were unloading the kruthik carcass. She turned up her nose at the smell.
“Since you scored that kruthik,” Sr. Andrade said, “I suppose you should get to cleaning it.”
All the blood drained from Marcela’s face. In her joy over her first hunt, she forgot the rule: “If you kill it, you clean it.”
----------------------------
Part 2 when it comes out:
Wished - Beginning (on Wattpad) http://my.w.tt/UiNb/yGxZdPEOZy Alice is going to get exactly what she wishes for a long time, end with her simple and indifferent life. The ony thing that she can't imagine, is that things won't happen the way she had planned.
Good lunch! Spyrest (c) Me
Check this new reptile related comic out, in absence of our eternal hero today.
MT#23: The Last of the Fluxagons #webcomic #comic
We Vey Bros made this as an attempt to transport our characters into the past. The story may pop up again in the future.
Either everyone hates me, or I need a nap
But tbh I just think everyone hates
Awkward...
Christmas gift for my dad
I am not vagueposting in bad faith, but I want to followup on a post going around without adding to the post itself and seeming combative. the post is about eating meat from wild animals, and it claims that the majority of harmful pathogens in meat that make humans sick is introduced into processed meat by humans & that E. Coli is only a problem in processed supermarket meats due to contact with human fecal matter. The post states that E. Coli comes from poop—totally correct. But it also emphasizes the role of human fecal contamination, and if you kill a wild deer and eat its meat raw, the risk is comparatively negligible. The post also stated, “wild predators don’t get food poisoning from raw meat” (not true).
This may seem extremely pedantic, but as a wildlife manager & a hunter, I wanna discuss E. Coli and other pathogens connected to meat consumption and how they exist naturally in the wild animals which we (and other predatory mammals) consume.
In fact, wild deer are natural vectors for E. Coli, and wild birds are natural vectors for Salmonella (1) (2)
We can not only contract E. Coli from direct contact with wild deer, but from contact with shared water sources (3) This is by exposure to deer fecal contamination.
Onto the meat: If you hunt a wild deer, you must immediately ‘field dress’ the carcass. Field dressing in this context is the act of removing organs, especially the stomach & intestines, to trigger an immediate decrease in the animal’s body temperature, which buys you time to transport the meat before bacteria grows.
You must be extremely careful to avoid puncturing the stomach and intestines, which would contaminate the meat, because, once again, deer are natural vectors of E. Coli.
It’s also crucial to kill a deer efficiently (not only to ensure minimal suffering to the animal). A gut-shot can contaminate the abdominal cavity, and the animal is likely to live longer after the shot, allowing for a longer contamination period, which increases risk of contracting E. Coli through meat consumption (4)
You could argue that in the end, the contamination is still caused by human error, even if it’s not by human fecal contamination. So let’s talk about non-human species contracting illnesses from eating wild meat.
Someone else on the post supposed that predators such as wolves come into contact with harmful pathogens in the raw meat they eat.
In fact, predators can and do contract diseases in the act of predation.
Harmful pathogens do exist in wild meat untouched by humans, but predators and scavengers can demonstrate a resistance to more serious infections.
One example is predatory mammals contracting Anthrax infections from sick prey animals. Anthrax infection is caused by the bacterium Bacillus anthracis, which lives in the soil and infects prey animals, especially grazing ungulates. Predatory mammals can contract Anthrax infections by consuming the meat of infected prey animals.
However, Anthrax infections caused by meat consumption tend to be milder in predatory mammals, with decreased mortality: “Anthrax resistance in predators is not absolute. It manifests itself not as an inability to become infected, but rather as an ability to transfer the disease in a non-lethal or even asymptomatic form.” (5)
So illness-causing pathogens spread by meat consumption do exist in the soil and in wild meat. Predatory mammals have an advantage against infections caused by meat consumption, but not an immunity! 
Another example of predatory mammals contracting a disease by eating wild meat is wolves and bears contracting Brucellosis by consuming infected prey animals (6) (7)
I DO caution against overestimating the danger of food borne pathogens in nonhuman predatory mammals. In Wyoming, some people are sensationalizing the alleged risk of Brucellosis in wolves as a strategy in the age old settler colonial war on wild canids, but there is no proven risk of transmission from wolves in the state (8) I only bring up the infection and wolves to demonstrate that predatory mammals can contract illnesses by consuming wild meat.
Game meat and the hunting of wild animals is extremely important for both nutrition and culture throughout the world. I would caution people against buying into sensationalism about the dangers of ‘bush meat,’ which is often exoticizing and racist.
I do not think we should be any more afraid of eating wild game than we should worry about processed meats. And often there is a distinct advantage to eating wild game. I especially encourage learning about hunting in your region for subsistence and ecological conservation.
So this is all to say, there is inherent risk to eating game meat, much like many other things we eat, and predators do contract illnesses by eating wild meat, but you should be informed, not afraid!
While the risk may be lower than meat processed in factories, there are important safety procedures and protocols to follow to ensure it is consumed safely.
TL;DR: You can, in fact, contract illnesses such as E. Coli from eating wild game. Predatory mammals other than humans do, in fact, contact illnesses from eating raw wild game. BUT don’t worry too much about it! Just know the facts!