"The Meeting, Part Two" by T.K. Wade (Adults only please.)
Jonas leaned on his elbow for a bit as he casually stirred his soup. Levin saw that he was thinking and had a sudden interest in what he might be thinking about. He asked, “Jonas, is that ever-thinking mind of yours concocting something brilliant for us this evening?”
Richard added, “Yes, you look fairly preoccupied with something.”
Jonas raised his head and smiled. “I was just thinking about life in the Highest Place.”
Levin blinked. “I’m intrigued. We rarely talk of life on the higher planes, do we, Richard?”
The retired soldier mouse shook his head. “Don’t think much about it either.”
“Well, I don’t have any objections to it. Please, Jonas, what do you have to say of the Highest Place?”
Jonas took a long drink from his glass and placed it down with a contented sigh. “Well, you all know most of the gods, I assume.”
Levin nodded. “This and that. Admittedly, it is not something I discuss a great deal.”
“Mersis, the goddess of compassion, had a very annoying childhood. She had the misfortune of having a rat for a brother. You both must have heard of that boisterous scamp known as Maximus.”
Richard raised a finger. “I certainly have.”
“Maximus was not like most annoying brothers; he was worse. Mersis would find herself propositioned by him as a regularity. If the taboo of incest was not bad enough, she could see in his eyes that the attraction was founded on anything but love. It was even conceivable that he was infatuated with the taboo in and of itself.
“Her mother, Euridice, was little help, feeling the need for Mersis to work this out for herself. All the same, she had always been blind to her son’s vile urges having been so accustomed to her rat husband, Phallus.”
Levin laughed. “You cannot be serious! Is that really the name of her father?!”
Richard confirmed, “He’s not joking.”
Jonas shrugged. “Nothing concerning a rat should surprise any of you.”
Levin remarked, “Alright, you have a point there. So what did the poor goddess do?”
“Well, Mersis was not the type who wished to hurt the feelings of another. At the same time, the constant pestering was almost unbearable. It was obvious that Maximus was unable to take ‘No.’ for an answer. So, she made plans to have a heart to heart with her brother one night in her own bed chamber.”
Levin commented, “What a terrible place to meet.”
Jonas smiled. “Well, yes. But Mersis is strange in that way. She knew that Maximus was most comfortable in that setting, and she did not want him to be uncomfortable for this meeting.”
Richard shook his head with a chuckle. “Mistake.”
“She sat him down upon her bed and told him that she had had quite enough of his incestuous passes. She spoke with dignity, respect, and courage. There was only one slight problem with the meeting: he did not hear a word. In fact, he was drooling. The very thought of being in the same bed with his own sister, whether having sex or not, drove him mad with desire. He thought of nothing but to rid her of her attire and take her right then and there. Knowing Maximus, he would definitely try.”
Richard remarked, “She’s not very bright, but I suppose it came from being so young. How did the goddess fare?”
Jonas continued, “She fought him, furiously. Clothes were ripped. Pillows were thrown. She even had to resort to biting his grabbing hand. In the end, Maximus was defeated, and Mersis stood to her feet and yelled like she had never yelled before. For the first and last time in her life, she lost her temper.
“Maximus, who had fallen to the floor during the brief struggle, sat there quietly as he listened to his nearly-nude sister scream at him, using words that even we are not aloud to know! The rat still sat there quietly; anger and frustration filled his heart. He knew that he would never get what he truly wanted. Ever since he could remember, he wanted his sister to himself. He focused on her. He desired her more than anything, and now, he began to realize that it would never happen.
“The deep-seated urge to breed was still strong within him, needing release. He thought to himself that, if he could not have the one that he wanted, then he would take out his aggressions on everyone else. Anyone and everyone, it did not matter. Now that his focus was destroyed, he opened himself to all forms of pleasure.”
Levin remarked, “Perhaps that is why he is usually portrayed as so very fat. To some extent, eating can be a form of pleasure, especially that of the sweet persuasion.”
Jonas smiled. “Yes, Levin. In fact, growing fat was the first thing that he did. He ate and he ate, and he never stopped. He just kept growing until he was, by mouse standards, quite grotesque. I imagine that he grew so fat that there was nary an article of clothing in the Highest Place that would fit the ugly rat.
“And after he had engorged himself, he went out looking for people to lay with. It was just sex at first, but he soon became open to the vilest of fetishes. If he had not heard of it, he had not tried it. He wanted it all. He wanted everything for himself because he could not have the one thing that he truly wanted, his own sister.”
Richard chuckled. “That sounds like a rat alright. It’s amazing that anyone, even one of them, would find such a grotesque creature to be attractive.”
Jonas added, “Well, I have heard something about that the lure of taking everything is quite hypnotic, and it plays into the Maximus lore.”
Levin agreed, “Yes, there must be some sort of hypnotic influence to the big rat. Either that or they truly are all whores.”
Jonas took another drink and answered, “No, they aren’t all whores, Levin. Those who fall to the whim of Maximus are lost to his desire to indulge in all things, but there is another rat that I mentioned earlier.”
Richard named him, “The rat known as Phallus.”
“Phallus is the god of plenty. Where he has a strong sexual drive like Maximus, the father believes in love and caring, which is why he was married to begin with. And now, as it is, we have two major factions of rats: those who will seek everything, and those who find only that which they desire.”
Levin raised his glass and announced, “Exceptional tale, Jonas!”
Jonas smiled. “Thank you.”
Richard agreed as well, “You are a brilliant story teller. I always look forward to what you bring to the table. This night is turning out quite well.”
Levin drank the last sip of his cider and said, “And I am still hungry. The night is still young. I say we have one last helping.” The others nodded in agreement, and more soup was ordered.
-Glossary-
Highest Place: Heaven or realm of the gods.
Mersis: Mouse goddess of mercy and compassion.
Maximus: Rat god of lust. Brother of Mersis.
Euridice: Mouse Goddess of justice. Mother of Mersis and Maximus.
Phallus: Rat god of fertility and prosperity. Husband of Euridice. Father of Mersis and Maximus.
Thursday, July 30, 2015
Tuesday, July 28, 2015
Mustelidae Spotlight: Pine Marten
Martens are a type of musty that are not spoken of much. That is really too bad because I happen to really like them. Although there many breeds of this animal, it is the pine marten that is my absolute favorite. The name really speaks for itself. He lives mainly in pine forests.
The pine marten has got to be one of the cutest animals out there. They look a little like a tiny fox with brown and cream-colored fur. Despite being born in litters of up to five babies, these animals grow up to be quite solitary. I gain very much from such small amounts of information. Allow me to explain.
I have always envisioned the pine marten as something resembling a solitary outdoors man. Perhaps, a lumberjack or hunter. A fellow who lives by his own wits and rejects assistance from other people--even other martens.
Pine martens have no trouble at all getting food. They are about as vicious as stoats when it comes down to it. The only difference is that they manage the hunt on their own rather than having help. These guys are actually pretty dangerous to creatures like mice and rabbits.
There was one peculiarity that stuck out in my research, Apparently, pine martens love to chew on rubbery things like plastic. This can range from a ball to even the bumper of a car. They tend to destroy these things really quickly too which makes them a menace to some areas. Leave it to a musty to cause trouble!
Although martens were featured in Gary Kilworth's "The Welkin Weasels," it was not a very substantial appearance. I only mention this because I really can't think of any other piece of fiction where I have heard of them specifically. Personally, I think there is a lot of untapped potential! You have a mysterious woodsman who is as stoic as he is cruel to trespassers. And just before you thought it was creepy enough, he has a thing for rubber. All these things combined, I would think twice before going into the woods.
On the positive side, what a very good companion to have as an ally while making your way through that same forest. I imagine he knows where everything is, and every night, there would be excellent game to feast upon. The pine martens were made for the forests. They know it exceptionally well, but the real question is: Is he going to be your friend or foe? If it ends up being the latter, you better run for your life because he won't spare a moment in hunting you down.
Thank you for reading this blog! If you enjoyed it, you can comment below, or you can email me at tooie@tooiekangaroo.com. Thanks!
The pine marten has got to be one of the cutest animals out there. They look a little like a tiny fox with brown and cream-colored fur. Despite being born in litters of up to five babies, these animals grow up to be quite solitary. I gain very much from such small amounts of information. Allow me to explain.
I have always envisioned the pine marten as something resembling a solitary outdoors man. Perhaps, a lumberjack or hunter. A fellow who lives by his own wits and rejects assistance from other people--even other martens.
Pine martens have no trouble at all getting food. They are about as vicious as stoats when it comes down to it. The only difference is that they manage the hunt on their own rather than having help. These guys are actually pretty dangerous to creatures like mice and rabbits.
There was one peculiarity that stuck out in my research, Apparently, pine martens love to chew on rubbery things like plastic. This can range from a ball to even the bumper of a car. They tend to destroy these things really quickly too which makes them a menace to some areas. Leave it to a musty to cause trouble!
Although martens were featured in Gary Kilworth's "The Welkin Weasels," it was not a very substantial appearance. I only mention this because I really can't think of any other piece of fiction where I have heard of them specifically. Personally, I think there is a lot of untapped potential! You have a mysterious woodsman who is as stoic as he is cruel to trespassers. And just before you thought it was creepy enough, he has a thing for rubber. All these things combined, I would think twice before going into the woods.
On the positive side, what a very good companion to have as an ally while making your way through that same forest. I imagine he knows where everything is, and every night, there would be excellent game to feast upon. The pine martens were made for the forests. They know it exceptionally well, but the real question is: Is he going to be your friend or foe? If it ends up being the latter, you better run for your life because he won't spare a moment in hunting you down.
Thank you for reading this blog! If you enjoyed it, you can comment below, or you can email me at tooie@tooiekangaroo.com. Thanks!
Thursday, July 23, 2015
The Meeting, Part One (Adults only please.)
"The Meeting, Part One" by T.K. Wade (Adults only please.)
Three mice sat as a table at Cedardale Inn. It was a weekly meeting that none of them ever missed. Levin was the tall one, talkative and proud. He always came with something new to discuss. Richard was the oldest, a retired soldier. War and strategy often fell from his lips. Jonas was the third, a thinker and an imaginer. The stories he fashioned kept everyone entertained.
Levin usually stole the show as everyone expected him to. He leaned over the table and asked, “Is everyone ready for what I have to say?”
Richard nodded and sipped from his cup. “I would not dream of denying you the first say, Levin.”
“Nor I,” remarked Jonas before swallowing some of his mystery soup.
Levin grinned and looked at them all mischievously. “I am sure you all have heard stories of the notorious Black Rats.”
“Aye,” acknowledged Richard. Jonas nodded.
Levin slowly sat back down and continued, “These evil rats are becoming a terrible problem. Most will agree that the disappearance of Whisker Hills is their responsibility. But as terrible as these thugs may be, the force behind them is even more interesting.”
Jonas asked, “What force do you speak of?”
“The women, Jonas. Those beautiful women that walk into battle with a fearless gaze and a lust for death that rivals even a rat’s craving for sex.”
Richard chuckled knowing that this sort of thing was just so typical of Levin. “Have you met one of these Black Rat females?”
“Oh, I ask the gods that I may never meet them. I only know what I have been told. My sources have never lied. I will tell you the truth as truth be known, but I have speculations as well.
Jonas leaned over the table slightly and urged, “Continue, Levin.”
Levin leaned back into his chair and gazed between his friends as he thought back to what he had been told. “The women of the Black Rat. I have heard quite directly of their superiority in the ranks. These men, they worship them. I would not even be surprised if you could call those men slaves. They are slaves of war, just as well as slaves of lust. These women… these examples of everything that is erotic in the deepest recesses of the mind of any rodent; they control these rats and send them out to do terrible things in the name of love.”
Jonas seemed very curious. “Love?”
“Yes, love! They love them. These rats love those women. They desire them more than anything, and I suspect, even more than their own existences. Can you imagine loving something with such strength that even your own life means nothing to you?”
Richard nodded and answered, “I have heard of such love. It’s that which causes a man to sacrifice himself for his mate.”
Levin pointed at Richard and agreed, “Yes! That is love, but what kind of love creates a slave? What kind of love would blind a rodent beyond all common sense, reason, logic; a broken person, no, like I said, a slave. Something about that I find terribly frightening.”
Jonas queried, “So, you are telling us that it is some sort of mass infatuation?”
“I think so.”
“That seems very unlikely to happen. Are there not, that you have said, a fair amount of these women?”
Levin grinned and answered eagerly, “Is that not amazing? It is as if they exist as one. One slave will see one woman and love her with all of his heart to the point of forgetting himself. She leaves. Soon, a new female joins him in the room. Obviously, she is different, but that same love that poured so openly for the first woman now pours forth for her.”
Richard released an uncomfortable sigh. “Sounds bloody unnatural, even for a rat.”
Jonas, who was still extremely fascinated, asked, “Where did they come from?”
Levin drank from his cup and smiled. “Speculation; I did warn you that I was going to speculate. I have thought of these things for a very long time. I imagined that a woman or women had started this gang to begin with. I imagined that these women would, in turn, find new women and… um… change them, I suppose.”
“In what manner would they be changed? How would it be accomplished?” asked Jonas realizing that he was doing nothing more than asking questions.
“Oh, the very fact that they are rats opens the door to so many wondrous and quite terrible techniques. Even though you are more of the imaginer, Jonas, I have thought about it in depth. I believe that it would have to be some form of torture, but then torture does little more than break the spirit. Torture can and has made slaves, but those slaves serve masters and have lost themselves entirely. So with this torture there needs to be some sort of, shall we say, sexual stimulation.”
Richard laughed from his friend’s bluntness. “Come again?”
Levin nodded to both of them and continued, “Yes, you see, she needs to be convinced that the pain is a vital part of the pleasure or even sex itself. I am not sure how it would be accomplished, but if done properly, I can imagine that she would learn to love that pain as much she loves to be pleasured. The way I see it is that, instead of becoming a slave to the torturer, she is becoming a slave to her own desires. She can then take that lust and desire and focus it with all its awesome strength on the others of her choosing.”
Jonas took a deep breath and seemed bewildered, “It doesn’t seem possible.”
Levin explained, “Well, they are rats, and I am just speculating anyways.”
Richard remarked, “It’s not so bad. He did make a point of them being rats. If there were ever a rodent that was so keen on breeding one another, it would be them. I have known many of them in my time as a soldier. When they become infatuated with one another, they make no effort to hide it. I find it irritating, but… they’re rats.”
Jonas added, “This is such an interesting concept. You really thought it out as well, whether it is true or not. If it is as you say, then I almost feel sorry for those rats. I cannot imagine living the rest of my days broken in such a way. To be sent off to my death, for the meaningless love of a woman or women that I do not even truly know. And even the thought of being one of those women makes me sad.”
Levin nodded. “I see that I have done well this evening.”
Richard replied, “Yes, you did quite good. Perhaps more soup is in order.”
Jonas agreed, “Yes, maybe a bit more.”
-Glossary-
Cedardale: A very small village in the very center of Murridae. It is most famous for its tavern where traveling rodents stop for a break from their journey.
Murridae: A country inhabited by mice, rats, and jerboas.
Whisker Hills: A colony of Murridae that mysteriously disappeared.
Black Rats: An army of rats who appose mouse rule in Murridae.
Three mice sat as a table at Cedardale Inn. It was a weekly meeting that none of them ever missed. Levin was the tall one, talkative and proud. He always came with something new to discuss. Richard was the oldest, a retired soldier. War and strategy often fell from his lips. Jonas was the third, a thinker and an imaginer. The stories he fashioned kept everyone entertained.
Levin usually stole the show as everyone expected him to. He leaned over the table and asked, “Is everyone ready for what I have to say?”
Richard nodded and sipped from his cup. “I would not dream of denying you the first say, Levin.”
“Nor I,” remarked Jonas before swallowing some of his mystery soup.
Levin grinned and looked at them all mischievously. “I am sure you all have heard stories of the notorious Black Rats.”
“Aye,” acknowledged Richard. Jonas nodded.
Levin slowly sat back down and continued, “These evil rats are becoming a terrible problem. Most will agree that the disappearance of Whisker Hills is their responsibility. But as terrible as these thugs may be, the force behind them is even more interesting.”
Jonas asked, “What force do you speak of?”
“The women, Jonas. Those beautiful women that walk into battle with a fearless gaze and a lust for death that rivals even a rat’s craving for sex.”
Richard chuckled knowing that this sort of thing was just so typical of Levin. “Have you met one of these Black Rat females?”
“Oh, I ask the gods that I may never meet them. I only know what I have been told. My sources have never lied. I will tell you the truth as truth be known, but I have speculations as well.
Jonas leaned over the table slightly and urged, “Continue, Levin.”
Levin leaned back into his chair and gazed between his friends as he thought back to what he had been told. “The women of the Black Rat. I have heard quite directly of their superiority in the ranks. These men, they worship them. I would not even be surprised if you could call those men slaves. They are slaves of war, just as well as slaves of lust. These women… these examples of everything that is erotic in the deepest recesses of the mind of any rodent; they control these rats and send them out to do terrible things in the name of love.”
Jonas seemed very curious. “Love?”
“Yes, love! They love them. These rats love those women. They desire them more than anything, and I suspect, even more than their own existences. Can you imagine loving something with such strength that even your own life means nothing to you?”
Richard nodded and answered, “I have heard of such love. It’s that which causes a man to sacrifice himself for his mate.”
Levin pointed at Richard and agreed, “Yes! That is love, but what kind of love creates a slave? What kind of love would blind a rodent beyond all common sense, reason, logic; a broken person, no, like I said, a slave. Something about that I find terribly frightening.”
Jonas queried, “So, you are telling us that it is some sort of mass infatuation?”
“I think so.”
“That seems very unlikely to happen. Are there not, that you have said, a fair amount of these women?”
Levin grinned and answered eagerly, “Is that not amazing? It is as if they exist as one. One slave will see one woman and love her with all of his heart to the point of forgetting himself. She leaves. Soon, a new female joins him in the room. Obviously, she is different, but that same love that poured so openly for the first woman now pours forth for her.”
Richard released an uncomfortable sigh. “Sounds bloody unnatural, even for a rat.”
Jonas, who was still extremely fascinated, asked, “Where did they come from?”
Levin drank from his cup and smiled. “Speculation; I did warn you that I was going to speculate. I have thought of these things for a very long time. I imagined that a woman or women had started this gang to begin with. I imagined that these women would, in turn, find new women and… um… change them, I suppose.”
“In what manner would they be changed? How would it be accomplished?” asked Jonas realizing that he was doing nothing more than asking questions.
“Oh, the very fact that they are rats opens the door to so many wondrous and quite terrible techniques. Even though you are more of the imaginer, Jonas, I have thought about it in depth. I believe that it would have to be some form of torture, but then torture does little more than break the spirit. Torture can and has made slaves, but those slaves serve masters and have lost themselves entirely. So with this torture there needs to be some sort of, shall we say, sexual stimulation.”
Richard laughed from his friend’s bluntness. “Come again?”
Levin nodded to both of them and continued, “Yes, you see, she needs to be convinced that the pain is a vital part of the pleasure or even sex itself. I am not sure how it would be accomplished, but if done properly, I can imagine that she would learn to love that pain as much she loves to be pleasured. The way I see it is that, instead of becoming a slave to the torturer, she is becoming a slave to her own desires. She can then take that lust and desire and focus it with all its awesome strength on the others of her choosing.”
Jonas took a deep breath and seemed bewildered, “It doesn’t seem possible.”
Levin explained, “Well, they are rats, and I am just speculating anyways.”
Richard remarked, “It’s not so bad. He did make a point of them being rats. If there were ever a rodent that was so keen on breeding one another, it would be them. I have known many of them in my time as a soldier. When they become infatuated with one another, they make no effort to hide it. I find it irritating, but… they’re rats.”
Jonas added, “This is such an interesting concept. You really thought it out as well, whether it is true or not. If it is as you say, then I almost feel sorry for those rats. I cannot imagine living the rest of my days broken in such a way. To be sent off to my death, for the meaningless love of a woman or women that I do not even truly know. And even the thought of being one of those women makes me sad.”
Levin nodded. “I see that I have done well this evening.”
Richard replied, “Yes, you did quite good. Perhaps more soup is in order.”
Jonas agreed, “Yes, maybe a bit more.”
-Glossary-
Cedardale: A very small village in the very center of Murridae. It is most famous for its tavern where traveling rodents stop for a break from their journey.
Murridae: A country inhabited by mice, rats, and jerboas.
Whisker Hills: A colony of Murridae that mysteriously disappeared.
Black Rats: An army of rats who appose mouse rule in Murridae.
Tuesday, July 21, 2015
Mustelidae Spotlight: Ferret
I've been looking forward to this one. Ferrets are one of the more well-known musties and have a rap sheet a mile long. That's why we love them though. But first, let's learn a little more about them.
The ferret is actually the domesticated form of the European polecat--we'll talk about them later. These guys are pretty much always pets, but do not be fooled! They are still quite evil. Don't worry too much. They are on your side. Think of them as hapless minions that never do what you say and probably have their own agenda. Actually, maybe you should worry about them.
I have met a few ferret owners in my lifetime. Every one of them had the same thing to say about these sneaky fellows. Apparently, ferrets stink. This is actually due to a charming little scent gland located near the anus which really was intended to mark territory and attract mates. But as a pet, all it's good for is smelling bad. But the odorous qualities of this musty does not seem to stand in the way of attracting people to them.
Ferrets seem to act on their own mischievous wavelength. Yet, they understand you're the master, and if ever they need food, they know who to go to. However, these guys have an inner mechanism in their brains that just can't leave well enough alone. They have to crawl around, find things, and steal them.
You heard correctly! Ferrets are kleptomaniacs! Why do they do it?! It is the oddest thing! They pretty much just go around swiping keys, socks, money, pairs of glasses, and anything else that might appeal to them. What do they do with it, you may wonder? Nothing! All they do is put it in a hidden pile where nobody can easily find it. Why? Because it's theirs now! Really, I think its a simple as that.
My imagination goes wild for ferrets. I can't help but think these guys are planning something amazing for all that stuff. What if they are putting together some secret death-dealing devise made out of loose change and a soda can? Don't think it will work? What if the ferret knows something we don't?! These guys are not to be trusted!
I don't really know many ferrets in fiction which is really sad. The only ones that come to mind are represented in the "Welkin Weasels" series by Gary Kilworth. In his story, ferrets were mercenaries for hire. They will do anything for some money and a hot meal. That seems about right.
I wrote a short story called "The Miserly Ferret," which showcased the musty stealing money and hording it away even though it was worthless to him. I thought it was fairly symbolic of some humans in this world. There really are people like that.
I like the idea of a ferret thief or mercenary, but I think it works best when there is a secret agenda involved. Ferrets never seem to click with anyone but themselves. They are always on their own wavelength and can't seem to break free of it. They do what they must do, and everyone else is expendable. Just remember: if you plan on getting a ferret as a pet, keep all your valuables in a safe, and be sure not to mention the combination in his presence.
Thank you for reading this blog. If you enjoyed it, you can comment below, or you can email me at tooie@tooiekangaroo.com. Swipe!
The ferret is actually the domesticated form of the European polecat--we'll talk about them later. These guys are pretty much always pets, but do not be fooled! They are still quite evil. Don't worry too much. They are on your side. Think of them as hapless minions that never do what you say and probably have their own agenda. Actually, maybe you should worry about them.
I have met a few ferret owners in my lifetime. Every one of them had the same thing to say about these sneaky fellows. Apparently, ferrets stink. This is actually due to a charming little scent gland located near the anus which really was intended to mark territory and attract mates. But as a pet, all it's good for is smelling bad. But the odorous qualities of this musty does not seem to stand in the way of attracting people to them.
Ferrets seem to act on their own mischievous wavelength. Yet, they understand you're the master, and if ever they need food, they know who to go to. However, these guys have an inner mechanism in their brains that just can't leave well enough alone. They have to crawl around, find things, and steal them.
You heard correctly! Ferrets are kleptomaniacs! Why do they do it?! It is the oddest thing! They pretty much just go around swiping keys, socks, money, pairs of glasses, and anything else that might appeal to them. What do they do with it, you may wonder? Nothing! All they do is put it in a hidden pile where nobody can easily find it. Why? Because it's theirs now! Really, I think its a simple as that.
My imagination goes wild for ferrets. I can't help but think these guys are planning something amazing for all that stuff. What if they are putting together some secret death-dealing devise made out of loose change and a soda can? Don't think it will work? What if the ferret knows something we don't?! These guys are not to be trusted!
I don't really know many ferrets in fiction which is really sad. The only ones that come to mind are represented in the "Welkin Weasels" series by Gary Kilworth. In his story, ferrets were mercenaries for hire. They will do anything for some money and a hot meal. That seems about right.
I wrote a short story called "The Miserly Ferret," which showcased the musty stealing money and hording it away even though it was worthless to him. I thought it was fairly symbolic of some humans in this world. There really are people like that.
I like the idea of a ferret thief or mercenary, but I think it works best when there is a secret agenda involved. Ferrets never seem to click with anyone but themselves. They are always on their own wavelength and can't seem to break free of it. They do what they must do, and everyone else is expendable. Just remember: if you plan on getting a ferret as a pet, keep all your valuables in a safe, and be sure not to mention the combination in his presence.
Thank you for reading this blog. If you enjoyed it, you can comment below, or you can email me at tooie@tooiekangaroo.com. Swipe!
Tuesday, July 14, 2015
Mustelidae Spotlight: Stoat
It is hard to talk about the stoat without comparing them to weasels. The reason for this is because stoats look almost the same as weasels but are much larger. The common weasel generally does not get longer than 8.5 inches. The stoat tops that at 12.8 inches from head to tail. Because of this striking difference, I personally see the stoat as superior. Why not? Seems to me that in the world of carnivores, bigger is better! Bigger is also more intimidating.
If I was a mouse--and believe me, I would die to experience that--I think coming across something as big and tall as a stoat would seem far more worrisome than one of the little guys I might be able to outrun. Some might say the smaller weasels have the advantage since they are so small and sneaky, but the stoat would perhaps disagree with that. They are much stronger with their extra body mass. a group of stoats could easily massacre a warren of rabbits with a bit of teamwork. It's all about strength and power.
One thing about this mustie that interested me was their winter coat. It turns pure, snowy white when it gets cold out, which is why many people refer to the stoat as an ermine. This coat is so amazing to look at, that it is no wonder that this creature is often hunted for its fur. Would you think that the stoat itself might be proud of his brilliant ermine coat despite the fact that it puts him in danger? I actually think so!
Now, I really like stoats, and I want to explain why. In the wild, these guys are really dangerous to just abut everything that scurries and hops around in the forest. They are brutal and terrible but seem to have some sense of self-worth on top of it. I have always seen the stoat a something of a carnivorous ruling class among musties. After all, they ARE taller!
As I was looking through some Celtic mythology, I ran into an interesting thing about stoats. If you were to run into one, it was considered bad luck. But don't worry! Apparently, if you refer to the stoat as your neighbor, he'll let you go in piece. See how sucking up to the big guy keeps you from getting into trouble?
In Gary Kilworth's novel series "The Welkin Weasels," the whole of Welkin was ruled by a terrible stoat named Prince Poynt. This stoat was so full of it that he actually willed his fur to stay ermine all year long because he believed it made him seem more royal. As a prince, he was a royal pain and treated everyone horribly. The weasels were all his servants, and yes, it was because they were so much tinier than the stoats were.
In my own mind, I see stoats as a corrupt and callous people. They take what they want and really care only for themselves. They are not as sneaky as much as they are simply ruthless. They have power and intend to throw it around for all to see. That does not mean they cannot be put in their place, however. These guys sometimes do need a reality check. After all, there ARE bigger and stronger things in nature, and some of them are musties.
Thank you for reading this blog. If you enjoyed it, you can comment below, or you can email me at tooie@tooiekangaroo.com. Rawr!
If I was a mouse--and believe me, I would die to experience that--I think coming across something as big and tall as a stoat would seem far more worrisome than one of the little guys I might be able to outrun. Some might say the smaller weasels have the advantage since they are so small and sneaky, but the stoat would perhaps disagree with that. They are much stronger with their extra body mass. a group of stoats could easily massacre a warren of rabbits with a bit of teamwork. It's all about strength and power.
One thing about this mustie that interested me was their winter coat. It turns pure, snowy white when it gets cold out, which is why many people refer to the stoat as an ermine. This coat is so amazing to look at, that it is no wonder that this creature is often hunted for its fur. Would you think that the stoat itself might be proud of his brilliant ermine coat despite the fact that it puts him in danger? I actually think so!
Now, I really like stoats, and I want to explain why. In the wild, these guys are really dangerous to just abut everything that scurries and hops around in the forest. They are brutal and terrible but seem to have some sense of self-worth on top of it. I have always seen the stoat a something of a carnivorous ruling class among musties. After all, they ARE taller!
As I was looking through some Celtic mythology, I ran into an interesting thing about stoats. If you were to run into one, it was considered bad luck. But don't worry! Apparently, if you refer to the stoat as your neighbor, he'll let you go in piece. See how sucking up to the big guy keeps you from getting into trouble?
In Gary Kilworth's novel series "The Welkin Weasels," the whole of Welkin was ruled by a terrible stoat named Prince Poynt. This stoat was so full of it that he actually willed his fur to stay ermine all year long because he believed it made him seem more royal. As a prince, he was a royal pain and treated everyone horribly. The weasels were all his servants, and yes, it was because they were so much tinier than the stoats were.
In my own mind, I see stoats as a corrupt and callous people. They take what they want and really care only for themselves. They are not as sneaky as much as they are simply ruthless. They have power and intend to throw it around for all to see. That does not mean they cannot be put in their place, however. These guys sometimes do need a reality check. After all, there ARE bigger and stronger things in nature, and some of them are musties.
Thank you for reading this blog. If you enjoyed it, you can comment below, or you can email me at tooie@tooiekangaroo.com. Rawr!
Friday, July 10, 2015
"Snafu" has been published on Smashwords!
That's right! I have just published an awesome new book on Smashwords simply titled "Snafu." It is available for $0.99, and I hope you will stop by and purchase a copy for your eReader device. Here is a synopsis for you!
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Have you ever had an imaginary friend? Ever wondered if he was still out there somewhere? Does being imaginary mean that he doesn’t really exist? This is a story about a real imaginary friend! Snafu was a snake, but not a creepy snake like you find in your back yard. He was fluffy like a giant caterpillar. “Snafu” by T.K. Wade is about the life and times of a real imaginary friend. Through his life, he went to places that may seem beyond imagination, but such things are like home for the little guy. Join him on a thrilling and magical adventure into places that you thought could only exist in dreams!
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/558724
-----
Have you ever had an imaginary friend? Ever wondered if he was still out there somewhere? Does being imaginary mean that he doesn’t really exist? This is a story about a real imaginary friend! Snafu was a snake, but not a creepy snake like you find in your back yard. He was fluffy like a giant caterpillar. “Snafu” by T.K. Wade is about the life and times of a real imaginary friend. Through his life, he went to places that may seem beyond imagination, but such things are like home for the little guy. Join him on a thrilling and magical adventure into places that you thought could only exist in dreams!
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/558724
Thursday, July 9, 2015
The Tear of Vis
"The Tear of Vis" by T.K. Wade (As told by Quin, guide of Skiouros.)
In the beginning, the world was a very barren place. There were no forests, ponds, lakes, or oceans about the world. Neither were there animals or rodent. It was altogether a very unsatisfactory place to thrive in which may account for why no one yet lived.
The latter explanation contrasts with the Highest Place. In the heavens could be found wondrous cities far beyond our own worldly comprehension. And although these cities were beautiful to behold, they were without peace which blemished such beauty. The squirrel goddess, Pacis, wept over this flaw, for she was never pleased with such noise. She could never appreciate such a place regardless of it being her home.
Few of the Highest Place held concern for her insignificant complaints, but there was one god whom showed great interest in her. The squirrel’s name was Vis, and he loved Pacis dearly. Whenever the noise of those cities became too great, she would notice his empathy and fling herself into his arms where she somehow felt far more relieved. Driven by a strong passion to please the goddess, he promised to use his powers to create a place for her where she might finally find the peace she desired so greatly. Indeed, Pacis was well captivated by Vis and promised him her immortal love if he could ever accomplish such a thing.
Vis mingled within the society of greater gods and goddesses of the Highest Place seeking the power to do as he wished. Soon, he was given dominion over our world and allowed to change it as he saw fit. He did so with great care, for when he was finished, it looked much like it does now. There were forests, ponds, lakes, and oceans spread across the world. Much of his creation he designed according to his own whim, but there was one special place that he made explicitly for the one whom he loved–the great forest country of Skiouros.
Now, Vis had no hand in creating the rodents of the world, but he made sure the one who was responsible for the act designed the country’s populous to be in a form similar to Pacis. And so we came into being. Indeed, Pacis was made happy by the gift and fully intended to make a residence of the new country, but Vis could not go.
You see, Vis was not the same as Pacis. The goddess was drawn to the serenity of Skiouros and could easily pass on to it for it was in her spirit, but Vis was a god of the Highest Place and there he would remain. Yet these two great ones were in love, and that love would remain for eternity. On the day Pacis was to descend into the realm of the mortals to live among us, she was assisted down by the hand of her love. And as their hands were released, a single tear formed in the eye of Vis. It fell from the heavens and landed in this very clearing.
The tear was very small, you see, but it was a tear of an immortal and could not be moved or tampered with. Once a year–on what we call the Day of Love–Pacis raises her hand, once more, to the heavens, and it is, once more, touched by her true love. Each and every time, another tear fell from the eyes of Vis and added to the tears of former years. And now, as you can see, the tears have formed a pond, and every year, it grows–one tear at a time.
-Glossary-
The Tear of Vis: An actual location within Skiouros. It is a beautiful clearing in the forest where a pond resides. It is a sacred place to the squirrels of the country.
Skiouros: Country of the squirrels which is west of Murridae.
"animals or rodents": In this world, rodents are not animals. They are people. Any other creature is feral.
Highest Place: Heaven, or the land of the gods.
Pacis: Squirrel goddess of peace and tranquility.
Vis: Squirrel god of nature.
In the beginning, the world was a very barren place. There were no forests, ponds, lakes, or oceans about the world. Neither were there animals or rodent. It was altogether a very unsatisfactory place to thrive in which may account for why no one yet lived.
The latter explanation contrasts with the Highest Place. In the heavens could be found wondrous cities far beyond our own worldly comprehension. And although these cities were beautiful to behold, they were without peace which blemished such beauty. The squirrel goddess, Pacis, wept over this flaw, for she was never pleased with such noise. She could never appreciate such a place regardless of it being her home.
Few of the Highest Place held concern for her insignificant complaints, but there was one god whom showed great interest in her. The squirrel’s name was Vis, and he loved Pacis dearly. Whenever the noise of those cities became too great, she would notice his empathy and fling herself into his arms where she somehow felt far more relieved. Driven by a strong passion to please the goddess, he promised to use his powers to create a place for her where she might finally find the peace she desired so greatly. Indeed, Pacis was well captivated by Vis and promised him her immortal love if he could ever accomplish such a thing.
Vis mingled within the society of greater gods and goddesses of the Highest Place seeking the power to do as he wished. Soon, he was given dominion over our world and allowed to change it as he saw fit. He did so with great care, for when he was finished, it looked much like it does now. There were forests, ponds, lakes, and oceans spread across the world. Much of his creation he designed according to his own whim, but there was one special place that he made explicitly for the one whom he loved–the great forest country of Skiouros.
Now, Vis had no hand in creating the rodents of the world, but he made sure the one who was responsible for the act designed the country’s populous to be in a form similar to Pacis. And so we came into being. Indeed, Pacis was made happy by the gift and fully intended to make a residence of the new country, but Vis could not go.
You see, Vis was not the same as Pacis. The goddess was drawn to the serenity of Skiouros and could easily pass on to it for it was in her spirit, but Vis was a god of the Highest Place and there he would remain. Yet these two great ones were in love, and that love would remain for eternity. On the day Pacis was to descend into the realm of the mortals to live among us, she was assisted down by the hand of her love. And as their hands were released, a single tear formed in the eye of Vis. It fell from the heavens and landed in this very clearing.
The tear was very small, you see, but it was a tear of an immortal and could not be moved or tampered with. Once a year–on what we call the Day of Love–Pacis raises her hand, once more, to the heavens, and it is, once more, touched by her true love. Each and every time, another tear fell from the eyes of Vis and added to the tears of former years. And now, as you can see, the tears have formed a pond, and every year, it grows–one tear at a time.
-Glossary-
The Tear of Vis: An actual location within Skiouros. It is a beautiful clearing in the forest where a pond resides. It is a sacred place to the squirrels of the country.
Skiouros: Country of the squirrels which is west of Murridae.
"animals or rodents": In this world, rodents are not animals. They are people. Any other creature is feral.
Highest Place: Heaven, or the land of the gods.
Pacis: Squirrel goddess of peace and tranquility.
Vis: Squirrel god of nature.
Tuesday, July 7, 2015
Mustelidae Spotlight: Weasel
You know, I was sitting here thinking about how annoying it is to say "mustelidae" over and over again. It certainly isn't as mainstream as "rodent." How 'bout we go for something more simple and cute and start calling them "musties." Yeah! I like that!
Probably, the most well-known musty is the ordinary weasel. Well, maybe not so ordinary, for he has a reputation a mile long. Actually, it's more of a rap sheet than a reputation. Weasels are well-known for being up to suspicious mischief or dubious activities, and a lot of those notions are inspired by how they live their lives.
First, lets look at them from a scientific angle. Weasels are not really that big when compared to other musties. They range from 7 to 8 inches from head to tail, and they are very low to the ground when sneaking about. You might even miss one crawling right in front of you, and that is likely very good for the weasel.
Weasels are carnivores. They love eating all the little critters who live in the forest, but it's how they capture them which ultimately gives them their reputation. They are amazingly sneaky and quiet when they hunt. One might even think they pride themselves on this ability; at least, I'd like to think so. In fact, I think it quite often. It's just more fun that way.
Weasels have been in fiction and culture since the beginning of time. In the times of ancient Greece, it was considered very bad luck to find a weasel near a house which held within its walls a girl to be married. Apparently, weasels like to destroy things for no reason at all--such as a wedding dress. That's right! Weasels were the world's first wedding crashers! In early Mecklenburg, Germany, weasels were thought to possess strong magic which actually led to a period of the year being designated for killing weasels. Turns out Weird Al's "Weasel Stomping Day" was based on real events! Native Americans saw weasels as a bad sign that would lead to a speedy death. You see? That's how they get ya! Lastly, even in modern times, we will call a person who is known to be sneaky or up to no good a weasel. We also sometimes refer to the speakings of a suspicious person to be "weasel words." Clever.
No matter how you look at it, weasels are known throughout history as the sneaky villain of the animals. In fiction, they are commonly portrayed as such or just simply a slithery person without any scruples to speak of. Case in point: "Who Framed Roger Rabbit?" The weasels in this movie were not only entirely villainous, they were also stark raving lunatics. I liked them though! They were both scary and hilarious at the same time and made great henchmen for the lead villain.
Weasels are commonly henchmen as in the French film "Wolfy: The Incredible Secret." They would sneak about like spies in the night, and no one would ever see them unless they wanted to be seen. In Kenneth Grahame's book "The Wind in the Willows," weasels were also employed as common thugs and even ended up in a big fight.
I think--for me--the most inspirational depiction of weasels were the ones in the comic book series "Mouse Guard." Although they have not shown up as often as I'd like, they were so well written that I have used the ideas for some of my own works. In my unpublished stories called "Tooth and Tail," I had weasels be these snarling creatures who thrived on meat. Rats would ride them into battle and cause much carnage with them, but this would also prove very controversial with the rodent populous. I also had a very interesting weasel in one of my published works called "Ava in Fairyland." His name was Slipnick the thief, and his name was derived from how he could "slip" inside and "nick" the item that he wanted. He was an amusing character and a lot of fun to write about.
Weasels are one of natures sneakiest predators. They are cunning and calculating. They are selfish and cruel. They will do anything and everything it takes to achieve success. For that reason, they easily make it in the Musty Hall of Fame as an honorary villain. I would not have it any other way.
Thank you for reading this blog. If you enjoyed it, you can leave a comment below, or you can email me at tooie@tooiekangaroo.com. Sneak!
Probably, the most well-known musty is the ordinary weasel. Well, maybe not so ordinary, for he has a reputation a mile long. Actually, it's more of a rap sheet than a reputation. Weasels are well-known for being up to suspicious mischief or dubious activities, and a lot of those notions are inspired by how they live their lives.
First, lets look at them from a scientific angle. Weasels are not really that big when compared to other musties. They range from 7 to 8 inches from head to tail, and they are very low to the ground when sneaking about. You might even miss one crawling right in front of you, and that is likely very good for the weasel.
Weasels are carnivores. They love eating all the little critters who live in the forest, but it's how they capture them which ultimately gives them their reputation. They are amazingly sneaky and quiet when they hunt. One might even think they pride themselves on this ability; at least, I'd like to think so. In fact, I think it quite often. It's just more fun that way.
Weasels have been in fiction and culture since the beginning of time. In the times of ancient Greece, it was considered very bad luck to find a weasel near a house which held within its walls a girl to be married. Apparently, weasels like to destroy things for no reason at all--such as a wedding dress. That's right! Weasels were the world's first wedding crashers! In early Mecklenburg, Germany, weasels were thought to possess strong magic which actually led to a period of the year being designated for killing weasels. Turns out Weird Al's "Weasel Stomping Day" was based on real events! Native Americans saw weasels as a bad sign that would lead to a speedy death. You see? That's how they get ya! Lastly, even in modern times, we will call a person who is known to be sneaky or up to no good a weasel. We also sometimes refer to the speakings of a suspicious person to be "weasel words." Clever.
No matter how you look at it, weasels are known throughout history as the sneaky villain of the animals. In fiction, they are commonly portrayed as such or just simply a slithery person without any scruples to speak of. Case in point: "Who Framed Roger Rabbit?" The weasels in this movie were not only entirely villainous, they were also stark raving lunatics. I liked them though! They were both scary and hilarious at the same time and made great henchmen for the lead villain.
Weasels are commonly henchmen as in the French film "Wolfy: The Incredible Secret." They would sneak about like spies in the night, and no one would ever see them unless they wanted to be seen. In Kenneth Grahame's book "The Wind in the Willows," weasels were also employed as common thugs and even ended up in a big fight.
I think--for me--the most inspirational depiction of weasels were the ones in the comic book series "Mouse Guard." Although they have not shown up as often as I'd like, they were so well written that I have used the ideas for some of my own works. In my unpublished stories called "Tooth and Tail," I had weasels be these snarling creatures who thrived on meat. Rats would ride them into battle and cause much carnage with them, but this would also prove very controversial with the rodent populous. I also had a very interesting weasel in one of my published works called "Ava in Fairyland." His name was Slipnick the thief, and his name was derived from how he could "slip" inside and "nick" the item that he wanted. He was an amusing character and a lot of fun to write about.
Weasels are one of natures sneakiest predators. They are cunning and calculating. They are selfish and cruel. They will do anything and everything it takes to achieve success. For that reason, they easily make it in the Musty Hall of Fame as an honorary villain. I would not have it any other way.
Thank you for reading this blog. If you enjoyed it, you can leave a comment below, or you can email me at tooie@tooiekangaroo.com. Sneak!
Thursday, July 2, 2015
Oran's Folly
"Oran's Folly" by T.K. Wade (As told by Teagan the squirrel bard.)
Now, Oran fought a hundreds wars,
And lost a million three.
He gave it up for his bad luck,
And fell upon his knees.
Matera seized him by his soul,
As so he chose to do.
But now he sees what is not there,
His vision now askew!
"Invaders! Invaders!” Came a shout,
He saw them breaching forth!
All the men who trusted him,
Set out upon the north.
Imagine their surprise and shock,
When nothing did assail.
When asked about the missing fight,
Did Oran rant and rail:
“I saw it! I saw it!” was his reply.
“It was clear as if the sun!”
But clearly Matera had taken him
And used him for his fun.
So now, dear Oran is all but lost,
In respect and other ways.
A slave to Matera and adrift in life,
To spend the rest of his days.
But let this be a lesson to those,
Who fights and never does win.
Avoid the ale; Instruo prevails!
And let not Matera come in!
-Glossary-
Matera: Literally, the squirrel god of fermentation/alcohol.
Instruo: The squirrel god of readiness and swift decision.
Now, Oran fought a hundreds wars,
And lost a million three.
He gave it up for his bad luck,
And fell upon his knees.
Matera seized him by his soul,
As so he chose to do.
But now he sees what is not there,
His vision now askew!
"Invaders! Invaders!” Came a shout,
He saw them breaching forth!
All the men who trusted him,
Set out upon the north.
Imagine their surprise and shock,
When nothing did assail.
When asked about the missing fight,
Did Oran rant and rail:
“I saw it! I saw it!” was his reply.
“It was clear as if the sun!”
But clearly Matera had taken him
And used him for his fun.
So now, dear Oran is all but lost,
In respect and other ways.
A slave to Matera and adrift in life,
To spend the rest of his days.
But let this be a lesson to those,
Who fights and never does win.
Avoid the ale; Instruo prevails!
And let not Matera come in!
-Glossary-
Matera: Literally, the squirrel god of fermentation/alcohol.
Instruo: The squirrel god of readiness and swift decision.
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