We are the glow that shines through the skin.

The light of joy and happiness from within.

That twinkle in the eye

Without one you may die.

We are pure light and love

But we can be tainted with evil.

Do what you can to guard us against evil

So the darkness cannot dim our lights.

We are you and you are us, we are your ethereal form.

You are the physical norm.

Avery was a very dangerous Liostoon*.

She roared at anything she met smaller than a bear, and pounced upon it.

Before it could even begin to struggle, her breath turned it to stone.

She hunted for her pride, feeding them. She hunted with them, too, when in a socail mood.

She gave a satisfying lion's roar as she stongified** a bear cub.

"Alpha Avery! Alpha Avery," cheered her children.

Some of them were older than Avery, who was only four.

That didn't matter. All pride members were her children.

Yet, the joy on her golden head did not last, for she had smelled the bear cub's mother.

It stampeted towards them, roaring in horror. It showed no fear, though she must've known the danger she was charging into.

Throughing her leathe cat body into battle, she scratched the bears belly, and breathed her magic into the grizzly's blood. It took more then one breath to kill something this big!

Her younger brother, Took, rammed his elk horns into the grizzly's body.

Avery flew out of the bear's reach on her raven's wings and joined the others flying around the bear.

While biting and breathing at her throat, Avery watched her mother, Claw-She, breath on any scratch she could find, her cousin LambChew daringly breath in the bears mouth, and her old mate***, Chaw clawed and breathed along the grizly's back.

Then, it was over. The bear's paws were to heavy for her to lift them, then she was a grey bear, frozen in stone.

"Nice job," Avery meowed, before growling her order. "Lets get this food back to Homey-Mosses****."

*= Lions with elk horns replacing their mains, and black raven wings.

**= Crusting the outside of a body with stone, and killing that creature.

***= Pride alphas can't continue to have mates, it gets in the way of duties.

****= Home.

They say there is a beast who roams the forests around our village. A beast with knives for teeth and an impenetrable hide. They claim that it eats Wolfsbane like candy. It can’t be seen if the beast doesn’t wish to be seen with how its matted hide melts into the background of the forest. It is no bear nor hog, but something of a dark magic; a creation from a sorcerer’s lust for power, solidified to harvest those who are unfortunate enough to cross its path for the beast’s dinner. It has horns more destructive than spears. Then, the worst part they claim, is the beast’s eyes: cold, lifeless, beady black eyes that stare into your soul and steals years from your lifespan for its own. That’s what they say.

What I say is that these claims are as accurate as comparing a cat to a dog. There is no horrid beast roaming out there, other than us humans. The “beast” they claim is out there is a sweet and friendly creature. Those teeth are in fact matted white fur from his slobbering-wet greetings. His fur is honestly quite matted, try as I have the past several months to de-mat it. He doesn’t have much in the way for defense other than the various shades of green and brown fur so that he can hide from hungry predators. The claims regarding the wolfsbane are true; his digestive system has evolved to process these poisonous plants, benefitting the lives surrounding his habitat. His horns are too delicate for fighting but they are incredible at knocking down white baneberries, giant hogweed, or even the fruits from a Manchineel tree.

No one knows the origin of this strange creature. I believe that his kind have just been hiding in plain sight, evolving and surviving just as every other creature in these forests. Then again, only a select few have been blessed to see the offspring of these magnificent creatures. I could still remember holding a light green baby–no bigger than an apple–and feeling the wonder and amazement of knowing that tiny baby would grow into a massive creature whose size could easily match a bear’s.

The funniest saying is that of the creature’s eyes. There is nothing lifeless or cold about them. They are the eyes of a caring mother, causally watching her children play in the sun. They were the color of amber when the sun kisses those eyes midday. There is a twinkle of intelligence and curiosity when the creature finds something new. Those eyes are filled with love and warmth; those who claim otherwise, they aren’t looking properly.

One day, people will understand the creature’s beauty. Until then, I will watch over them and offer my protection to the Pecuinum Animans*, the Beast-like Creature.

*Latin:

Pecuinus, pecuina, pecuinum, adj.: beast-like; of cattle

Animans, animantis, n.: animate/living being/organism (other than man), creature; animal (vs. plant)

Ianuae Magicae.

They are everywhere,

And no where.

They feast on the leaves of the abor.

And scavenge what is left in the lands of foedo.

Impossible to capture, no cage can hold them.

Once a Ianuae Magicae wishes to leave?

It will disappear,

Only to appear at the place it wants to be at.

Natural predetors don't exist, because none can keep them in their grasp long enough.

Their golden fur shines,

Purple eyes glitter,

And their small, ivory claws, gleam a silvery blue.

Ianuae Magicae, they are everywhere, and no where.