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Tuesday, November 3, 2026
Pawblade ~ Chapter 5: Sweet Potato Coffee
"Aww what d'ya mean you're out 'again'?!"
The human teenager behind the counter bowed and said, "Sorry ma'am. We should have some more by the end of the week if you wanna come back?"
Lida rapped her knuckles on the counter. "No… no that's fine. Thank you." She turned to face Remy, who had been hanging about near the entrance. "Wolf, you want anything…? Huh?"
Remy's attention was elsewhere; his eyes fixed on a woman in the corner. A huge, old tome opened before her. Her eyes darting across the page, line by line.
A small growl escaped Lida's throat. "Remy!"
Her voice cut straight through the loud music, a playlist of contemporary hits, and the hustle and bustle of the shop itself to pierce the wolflike's ears.
"Oh, sorry! I'm good thanks; I'll just grab an energy drink or something."
"What were you looking at anyway?" She asked, knowing full well the answer.
"That woman in the corner," he said, turning as they exited the FiveBucks coffee shop. "She's a witch, right?"
Lida glanced over her shoulder once more to sneak another quick peek; this time, the woman was staring right back at her, head resting on a platform of crossed fingers; her golden, feline eyes piercing her core through a pair of thick-rimmed glasses.
"That's Sofie Muromets, she's a teacher at the school down the road from my house; she's a bit older than you—us! Older than us." She laughed nervously, charging her way ahead of the wolflike into an oncoming crowd of people.
Saturday, October 31, 2026
Pawblade ~ Chapter 4: Halloween in Memoria
Lida Koji, a foxlike beastfolk, covered in purple-grey fur despite her belonging to the Red Fox species, sat silently at her table in Nana's Bakery, her second favorite place to be in Mountainside, Memoria.
It was a quaint, two-story affair with an interior finish that looked right out of Western fantasy films and literature. Entire tree trunks acted as pillars that held the upper floors aloft, which were connected by hand-carved steps and lined with thick railings.
Today was Halloween, and a Saturday, so the bakery was bustling with activity from kids on both sides of Memoria, all dressed up in costume for tonight's festivities.
"God I miss being a kid," she thought to herself as one walked by. A human boy, dressed in a mass-produced Batman costume, a popular superhero comic book that no one on Nostal can seem to agree on a single point of origin for, strangely enough.
The usual Celtic-like tunes that played over the bakery's sound system was replaced by mash-up of eerie, theremin-heavy tunes and more haunting compositions, further setting the mood and making the heavy smattering of Halloween decor all across the bakery pop.
A martenlike girl and a human boy approached Lida. The two were holding hands, and neither one older than six; they stopped and stared at the foxlike for a brief second.
"Where is your costume, lady?" the little martenlike girl asked, her nose and whiskers twitching as she smiled through some missing teeth.
Saturday, October 24, 2026
Pawblade ~ Chapter 3: Werewolves
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| Logo by Shizumi |
Sigil Winslet was hot on the trail of her prey. His smell stored in her scent receptors, presenting themselves in her vision as a trail of holographic vapor that snaked across the highway and weaved through the woods beyond.
Someone would have no doubt called the police by now. Big corporations like Target would not allow even potential petty theft of their overpriced products to go without some sort of report.
Or worse, the manager reviewed the footage and saw that it was no costume.
She bounded over a fallen tree as she entered the woods, following the trail of the potential werewolf's scent as she moved deeper into the forest, hellbent on tracking the wolf down.
"Who in the hell was that anyway? There's no registered werewolves in the area except for—" A branch snapped nearby, and she stopped on a dime, her breasts swaying heavily, causing her to wince.
A doe and its fawn crossed the path in front of her, appearing from the darkness like shadows pouring out of the darkness.
The fawn stopped and looked at her, licking the side of its mouth with a quick flick of its tongue. The young animal's ear flicked as it fixed its dark eyes on the woman, unsure whether it should flee.
Its mother returned, deciding for its offspring as the pair disappeared into the dark Michigan forest.
"Strange," Sigil thought, taking note of the nighttime wildlife chatter that surrounded her. "The presence of a werewolf should have had this entire forest silent and those deer running for their lives, and yet…"
The werewolf's scent trail was strong, indicating it had passed through here not too long ago. Sigil pondered the situation for the first time since she had trailed the creature into the department store. Sure of herself that it was the same creature that attacked the campsite earlier today, but the way the cashier had described their interaction confounded her.
The air around the woman became damp and chilly, even as a musty odor crept into her nostrils. The smell of a drying pond's edge, unquestionably. She'd encountered them all over the moors of Ireland this past spring.
A harsh croak filled the air, confirming her suspicion. The autumn air should have sent the frogs into hibernation.
"This world is so fucked up." Goosebumps dotted her skin once more, sensing her hunt was coming to a conclusion.
It was time to get changed one more time.
~~~
Saturday, October 17, 2026
Pawblade ~ Chapter 2: Earth
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| Logo by Shizumi |
A hail of gunfire drowned out the panicked screams of men, women, and children. Bullets whizzed past the wolf's head as he attempted to shield himself, confused and scared by the sudden outburst.
It was as if they'd never seen beastfolk before.
The first bullet struck his side, ripping the fabric of his clothing as the bullet found purchase against his skin. It pressed inward, like a swift jab to the gut, then the tiny piece of metal harmlessly bounced off.
"What the fuck are you doing?!" yelled a woman, grabbing one of the trigger-happy men by the shoulder.
Gunfire ceased for a moment, while the human woman berated the men who were now clearly inebriated based on the way they swayed.
"It's the goddamn wolfman, Marcine!" The first man to level his sight on Remy said, his speech slurred.
"There is no fucking thing as the wolfman, or werewolves for that matter, you retards!" The woman, named Marcine, yelled back. Slapping the man on the back of the head. She turned to face Remy, where he stood.
"Sir, are you hurt? You shouldn't be wandering around in a costume—huh?" The wolf had disappeared without a sound, leaving everyone to wonder if he was simply an alcohol-induced hallucination.
Saturday, October 10, 2026
Pawblade ~ Chapter 1: In the Beginning
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| Logo by Shizumi |
The day Remy Niscent learned that they weren't exactly alone in the universe started like any other day on Nostal.
On the Horseshoe Peninsula, a land mass jutting out from the Eastern Continent, a stretch of lush land covered in mountains, forests and farmlands, with the ocean to the north and south, there stood a single village, divided by a steep hill sat at the very center; two faces, offering those that call it home the best of both worlds.
This was the village of Memoria; a sprawling village that came in two flavors, divided by a train station at the top of the hill.
On the eastern side, a more rural, countryside-like town, complete with dirt roads, thatched roofs and gardens. Life was slower-paced here and drenched in natural splendor.
And on the western side: a bustling seaside harbor town, with a sprawling fish market, Main Street, and two highways that bled into it from the north and south. Businesses lined the face of the town, and tributary streets moved westward, providing housing and lodging for visitors.
Rarely did the crowds of tourists visiting the harbor town make their way into the rural outskirts, and those that called that side home were just fine with things that way.
Memoria, home to the mountains and the sea.
The autumn season had crept its way into the region over the past few weeks, transforming the imagery. The lush, vibrant greens of summer are now a distant memory as trees put on their annual, colorful display of yellows and reds. Mottling their colors amidst the evergreens that hid the rural mountainside portion of Memoria from the eyes of the noisy tourists and businessmen that flooded the streets just over the hill.
Saturday, October 3, 2026
Pawblade ~ Prologue
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| Logo by Shizumi |
Deep below the surface, where not even the light of Lumina could reach, a creature of unnatural birth clinked and clanked as it pulled its way through the very tunnels it had created. One giant, serrated claw reaching out, penetrating rough earth, helping to pull the massive form along through the complete darkness.
And then another, its shell scraping the ragged sides of the tunnel, just big enough for its shoulder length to slide through with minor impediment; sometimes it would scrape jagged, broken earth. Other times, it'd bump rock that appeared smooth; even melted in appearance.
It stopped for a second, twitching its antennae and craning its head. A scent or sound giving it pause; had prey fallen into one of its many trap holes? A low, excited screech escaped through its mandibles.
The Mantis Ant, a rare type of boss-level monster that is seldom seen, rarely comes to the surface, and is much too dangerous for researchers to enter its maze-like caverns when one appears for research.
As if listening with its large, compound eyes, the Mantis Ant sensed the airflow, trying to discern which trap hole its prey had fallen into. Picking through the musty, humid air that cycled through, it honed in on one tunnel: the very entrance to its lair!
With a piercing screech, the Mantis Ant turned around, pushing itself forward in an animalistic rage; "how dare a lesser being intrude upon my home!" would have been its current mindset, could the monster express itself with words, or even possess the intelligence to think in such a way.
The Mantis Ant bulldozed its way down its tunnel, blinded by primal instinctual rage, following the scent to its source.
Whatever was at the entrance; its throne room, would pay with its life.

