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As a rite of passage into adulthood children of twelve years were required to scavenge for a complete skeleton alone. They used their knowledge of anatomy to reconstruct the creatures bodies and imbued long grasses they collected with magic. Finally, the children stitched the skeletons together and brought movement back to the enchanted bones. Each reborn creature became the child's familiar, a kindred creature, their closest companion through life. Beneath the surface, in the inner workings of the blackbird clan, in deep brick-lined caverns where only the eldest and most trusted dwelled, seeds of unrest were sprouting. There was an urgency–a rattling need that sat deep inside their ribs– for the children of the blackbird clan to be well educated, well trained, and powerful. Something unspoken was here in the silence that hung between Ip and Atono as they surveyed the youth, between Ailbe and Edna as they watched with narrowed eyes while the children crept along the ridge at sunset.

Since my friend Dani loves Ghibli, I gave her a quick sketch of Ghibli stuff.

Día 11 

Cacturn. Not to be confused with Cacturne.

they're constantly bored, so they pull at people's lifestrings to see if they'll do something amusing

hello, inktober. i've been in denial about you for a couple of days, but let's do this. happee unicon about to get burnt. heavy auto biographical feels this doodle has...