It has been a very strange few weeks at the Upright Burrow. To our horror, P and I discovered that the charming town where the studio is situated has an infestation of the dreadful Vexatious Squawk-Goblins (scientific name: Avis Horribilis).
These hulking, feathered knaves can darken skies and hearts for miles. They have the most ear-splitting calls, accompanied by obnoxious toots due to their diet of rancid beef jerky and ice-cold garbage slime. Known for their cruelty to anything that isn’t a VS-G and being challenging to get rid of, they have been known to destroy whole colonies of creatures. For a most terrifying few days, P and I were exceedingly concerned that the humans in and around the Upright Burrow may run away to escape from them.
Silly us. We should have known better after living among these particular humans for the past months. As any Ornith-Hunter will tell you, these nasty winged pests thrive on others' despair. They despise connection, empathy and most of all, joy. Well, the humans are sustaining and creating all these and more for as far as the eye can see. The louder and more terrible the VS-Gs get, the stronger the connection seems to grow between this fine hamlet’s residents. They share food, possessions, and love with those that are most vulnerable, and find moments of joy and laughter between the heartless VS-G attacks. These exhausted-yet-determined humans keep showing up for each other, no matter the maelstrom that these avian parasites incite.
This evening, after a particularly heinous attack, P went flying through the night sky to survey the damage and see how she could help. To her amazement, she saw bright, twinkling lights everywhere. Even in the frigid cold, the humans were gathering with all their neighbors. The tallest to the smallest among them were holding lit candles aloft and comforting one another in the midst of the wreckage. Inspired and immensely relieved, P took a picture of this particular luminary. She told me that the Keeper of Forgotten Things placed it upon the Upright Burrow’s fence. She hypothesizes that the incantation inscribed upon it must be powerful, as it seemed to lighten the load for all those that passed by. The Keeper tended the candle late into the night. Her face was lined with worry and pain, but we could still see the twinkle of hope in her eyes.
Although it takes time to uproot a flock of these odious wind rats, P and I are supremely confident that the humans will prevail. We will continue our important work, and are all the more assured that we chose the right place for P’s studio and home.