the cats are alive, the cats are dead

Me:  Alright, man, I got, uh, a bottle of Mike’s, and some incense I bought at a head shop that just says “fruit” on it, and, like, a candle, and some bread, and my deep and all-consuming love for you, and a whole lotta personal shit.  Let’s do this.

Even though this woolly rhino was born 8000 years BC (Before Christmas), it’s still willing to try new things!

The wolf mother Mor lived with her daughter Awyr in the eastern plains. In the sun they travelled and played. In the moonlight Mor hunted and then together they feasted. At dawn one day Mor returned to find Awyr slain by a young hunter. She cried to the star god Eruhan and asked him to bring her daughter back, but Awyr’s spirit had left her little body. “Though you seem to meet her here, flesh to flesh, your child is somewhere far beyond. You can chase her for eternity in the living realm but you will never reach the place she’s gone. She is always just over the edge of the horizon. If you wish to leave this earthly form, you can join her before she reaches the depths of the current. If you choose this path, neither you nor she will ever see another soul again.” Mor agreed to the terms of the star-god and was swept away by a strong wind. Eruhan was so moved by the mother’s love for her child that he granted her the ability to walk among the living when the sun shone and to join Awyr beneath the current when the moon rose. Mor found herself each night in the dawn between life and death, the space between earth and the current of the stars. There she found Awyr and they live together each night in a place just beyond the living world. They run through the same fields but don’t disturb the grasses. Sometimes you can hear them, softly, in the distance. They speak of things to come far beyond the horizon where they meet. Some call this the language of the leaves.

We wish you a merry Christmas