#animaterrena

i consumed too much sodium this weekend , send help -

☢ What fads/trends are you so over?

hmmmmmmmst - honestly . . . im blanking on this one cus ive really come to a point where i dont care what other people are doing regardless if i like it or not , especially when it comes to how they choose to make their blogs look .

and i mean it in a genuinely nice way , like cool people are having fun with that ? why good for them , good for them . am i gonna join them to be Hip with them kids ? if it's not for me then fuck no amlsdnaksdnfd idk i tend to really just do my thing anyway .

the choices i've made for my blogs in every aspect ( graphics , writing style , tags , etc etc etc all that stuff ) is cus i like it and i want it a certain way . it's with no intention to follow a trend nor is it for me to be original either ; i'm just doin my thing and i let people do their thing so yea :>

trend i dont like is a trend i ignore -

this is a fucking lie i do NOT like the trend that tried to pick up for a short moment there of people editing their entire replies in fuckign phOTOSHOP and post the text as an image like homie im blind as fuck have mercy .

Elsa gripped Nokk's mane, the wind howling around them as the storm swirled in violent fury. The horse like water spirit galloped effortlessly across the sea, its hooves cutting through the waves with the grace of a storm itself. Elsa's heart raced, both with excitement and a tinge of unease. She had always been drawn to the raw power of the elements, but this storm... this one felt different. It wasn’t just nature at play, it was as if the storm itself had a mind, a will of its own.

The clouds above twisted and churned, darkening the sky until it was nothing but a mass of swirling shadows. The winds picked up, tugging at Elsa's hair and pulling at the edges of her cloak. Nokk slowed, its head lifting higher as if sensing something beyond the ferocity of the weather.

have you ever.

" Hm... Perhaps I judged them too harshly. "

“Seraphina.”

A soft, earnest request from her entryway.

a low honk, like a foghorn in the night. massive wings stretched out, seeming to dwarf the moon overhead as membranes blocked out its faint light.

this was not a normal sound. this was a sound of despair.

a female quetzalcoatlus was mourning. she sat atop her nest, her wings spread out around her as she frantically nudged her unmoving chick with her beak. it had been the only egg she laid this year, for this world was different and not as accommodating to sky titans like it used to be.

and her chick wasn't moving. wasn't breathing.