Growth Points Balance: 165
Masterlist Entry 083
AOENA is a forest spirit residing in the deep wooded areas of northern Minnesota. Her body is filled with honey bees and comb while her fur is usually pretty sticky and sweet with their honey. She is somewhat large in comparison to many others of her kind, although dainty and tall in stature. Bees may be seen going in and out of the openings along her shoulders, busy collecting nectar and brewing honey, as well as buzzing all around her and her blossoms. She roams the forests that make up her home quietly and serenely, watching over and protecting its precious pollinators.
During the winter months, her petals fall and her branches appear bare while the activity around her shoulders ceases as the honey bees she houses go into their winter stasis. While the bees seem to disappear during Minnesota's cold, harsh winters, buzzing may be heard deep within the caverns of her body.
Esk 115GP Chain
Growth Points Balance: 50
Masterlist Entry 115
NotesA low blanket of overcast clouds make the air feel heavy, the atmosphere weighted, as long waves take their time crashing on a bleak and gray beach. Long whisps of grass wave in the slow breeze as chilled seagulls and other seaside birds weave their way among the tufts, searching for tiny crabs and grubs to dine on. The cold waves start lap against a smattering of sea glass and driftwood. A dark figure appears among the mist of salt water, bowing low to sniff and nudge curiously at the things the sea has offered it. Raising its sleek head, it gazes out over the churning blackness, its fur catching the wind and brushing against long, gnarled bundles of driftwood protruding from its back and shoulders. With dark, knowing eyes it turns and wades slowly into a rocky tide pool, a wave crashing against the tife pools rough threshold. The apparition of the salty sea is gone, just as suddenly as it appeared.
Growth Points Balance: 42
Sunlight pierces through a thick canopy of leaves, creating tiny fiery openings to a blue sky above. The forest, with gargantuan trees, a thick bed of moss and fern undergrowth, and untouched serenity, is alive and teaming with flying insects, birds, and small foraging critters. The far-off bray of an elk can be heard, most likely on the neighboring plains, the low sounds of their comings and goings heard for miles around. The trees loom high into the air, acting as great sentinels of the forest. A stream bubbles it's way through a small clearing lazily as a somewhat tall creature picks its way along the edges, its mossy fur falling in long mats on either side of its almond shaped face. Large broken, overgrown branches, somewhat gnarled, root themselves on its back, their asymmetrical shape make the creature seem unbalanced as it restlessly teeters back and forth on tiny, three-toed paws. This is far from the case, however, as it turns swiftly and gracefully, bounding with utmost poise back into the overgrowth from whence it came just as a group of people hiking off the designated trails pressed through the trees and into the clearing.
Esk 166GP Chain
Growth Points Balance: 18
Masterlist Entry 166
NotesAn old woman hobbles out to her back porch, the morning sun washing the grasslands beyond her cottage in a golden glow. A soft, warm breeze makes waves in the grasses. She takes a deep breathe before making her way down the small, chipped-paint staircase down to her formidable garden. The steps creak in protest beneath her uneven gait as she favors her arthritic joints. Her long, silver hair, falls in pin-straight sections on either side of her face, gently waving in the breeze, mimicking the sea of grasses. She bends down, rolling up the sleeves of her white braided Erin sweater, tanned and gnarled hands working nimbly among the plants growing strong and rich in the furrows of her carefully tended garden. Just as she reached to check on the carrots, there was a rustle, large and noisy enough to catch her attention. She pauses, her eyes rose, and she spied, just beyond the red cabbage, two huge black, shining eyes staring straight at her. A feeling of expectation washes over her. It was as if she knew this creature had been living in the garden. Her garden. Purposefully making its presence known to her on this warm morning. The woman rises from her hunched posture over the greens and she notices that next to the cabbage, are furrows of marjoram, marking the beginning of the herbal portion of her garden. The eyes are peering out at her, unblinking and curious, from a clump of marjoram. It raises its furry head out from the leaves, exposing its pale mask, and incredibly enough, the marjoram rises with it; it's as if the herb is a part of it, creating a veil of leaves around its face and neck. It cocks its head to one side and wiggles its muzzle, as if it were deeply contemplating the woman, as if she were the one trespassing in its garden and not the other way around. With lithe, cat-like movements, the creature picked its way among the furrows to the edge of the garden, took a glance back at the old woman, and leapt into the grass. The woman's garden is its home, however solidarity is its preferred state of being. The woman understood that, finished checking the crops, and made her way back up to the porch, but not after one last look back at the wall of grass where the marjoram creature disappeared into.