the Great Avar, understandably concerned about his grandson’s safety after having witnessed the events of winternight, sends Maia a pair of puppies as a wedding present. The Great Avar being… who he is, they are neither lapdogs nor hunting dogs, as would be appropriate for an emperor. Nope, he sends a pair of enormous, well, whatever the in-universe equivalent of an anatolian shepherd is. they’re Big Boys and Very Good At Guarding.
(this is at least 60% inspired by this post from @csevet)
for some reason telling my dog “if you bark, you’re disinherited” does not have any effect whatsoever on her self-expression choices
tidepooling from this weekend: a hermit crab who has long since outgrown that little shell, a barnacle happily filter-feeding, and some lovely anemones
i have Great and Violent Passions and feel obligated to inform you of All of Them;
listen, I’m so so grateful to the like… ten of you who are actually enjoying the non-stop goblin emperor content on this blog, but I am even more grateful to the other 2,995 of you who are following me and have no idea what this shit is but are putting up with it anyway. bless you.
this is clearly for *anthropologist voice* Ritual Purposes, there’s no way the emperor is, haha, half-naked, and swathed in translucent lace, ahaha, for no reason whatsoever, nope, um, we’re all fine here, breathing into paper bags, it’s normal
I knew this was a thing, like mapping water paths and what not, but the amount is insane. And freaking beautiful. I want.
People always seem to think of rivers as a static thing, because you see maps from overhead and in human life spans they seem to stay put.
But they’re not. They’re alive. They snake back and forth, and change from one bed to another, erode a bank there and jump back to a path they haven’t used in a thousand years, they overflow and run low, and despite all our struggling we can’t always keep the river from doing what the river wants.
A Pretty Taste for Paradox 