It’s Not A Phase – We Love The Moon

I sat in the cool, dark green grass as I listened to the brook beside me bubble and giggle happily. The fae nearby were having a festival that they graciously invited me to. In attempt to be a good guest, I brought some cream, honey, and absolutely nothing with iron. Iron hurts the fae.

They would help me with my garden that I was tasked to take care of. Giving them gifts was the least I could do, especially at their favorite celebration.

The sun started to go down as the festivities started to taper off. Groaning a bit, I got up, found Nightingale (my closest faerie friend) and graciously excused myself out. Today was fun and I cannot wait until tomorrow.

You are the first ever completely ethical vampire: you post the terms and conditions of trespassing, make it clear in the memo that said people are subject to be fed on… You can safely say that humanity’s stupidity has kept you alive for thousands of years.

Sunlight rained through the grove. It was a long day and, to be honest, I wanted a nap. There was a stone that was large, flat, and grey, that wasn't too far from me but it was in direct sunlight. Just to test the heat of the rock, I lightly rested my hand against it and instantly recoiled it back. It was way too hot to even consider.

Abandoning the hot rock, I searched for another good place to rest. After a moment, I found one that was completely shaded by a large oak tree and was covered in moss. There was no doubt in my mind that this was the better option.

My messenger bag served as my pillow and my cape as my blanket. It didn't take a long time for me to fall asleep on this rock.

I don't remember what I was talking about, but I kept talking for him. There was a content air that surrounded him as he listened to whatever I was babbling.

But I also made sure to keep an eye on where we were going. At this point we had to be close to where the road wasn't as familiar. I could see some snow up ahead. But I didn't stop and kept talking.

In a breath of silence, I looked over at him. Since I was never really around people, I couldn't pin the exact expression.

Once we were a little bit into the cursed forest, I happened to take another look at him when a snowflake landed on his nose and startled him to a stop.

He looked up, eyes full of awe and wonder, as he whispered, "It's snowing?"

I was tempted to remark that it always snows here but his expression stopped me. How could I take this small pleasure from him?

So I settled for, "When was the last time you saw snow?"

"I don't remember," he muttered, not taking his eyes off of the snow.

I found a steady place to sit, cleaned the snow off, and got comfortable. He was having a good moment. I didn't want to take that from him.

I was going to wait until he was ready to go.

time lapse of all the birds yesterday

The quiet lake town has always been a favorite places to visit. It wasn't as densely populated as the capital was and it was just all around relaxing.

I haven't been to the marshes, bogs, fens, or anything like that west of the little town. There are rumors of monsters living there.

I like knowing that little town is okay.

hold on a second man…

The unicorn pawed the ground, aggrivated. I didn't know much about animals but I was taking this as a warning.

"It's okay," my stranger soothed, walking forward slow enough to not spook the oakwood unicorn.

It grunted and looked like it was about to charge and skewer him to a tree.

"Hey!" he snapped at the sentinel. He had guts to even think about doing that to a sentinel.

The unicorn reared its head in a way as if to ask, "What are you going to do?"

The highwayman walked forward with the same commanding presence that he just used. My best guess is that he needed the unicorn to know that he was in no mood for funny business.

"Hey, there," he murmured when he could pet the unicorn's mossy head. "Do you want a snack? Snack?" He pulled an apple out and presented it to the sentinel.

The oakwood unicorn, much calmer now, ate the apple.

"Come on, let's sit down," the highwayman suggested while he guided the unicorn down.

It nickered as it lied down beside him. Just as he put his hand in its hair, it laid it head down on his lap.

"And here I thought that only pure maidens could do that to a unicorn," I commented.

The highwayman just smiled up at me, "I have a horse like this one back at home." He looked down at the unicorn. "Mine has beautiful black fur and a sweet temperament."

The unicorn grumbled.

"Hey, I'm a little biased since she is my horse. You are a very handsome boy for a unicorn but you can't let my horse know that I said that, okay?" he told the resting unicorn.

The unicorn rolled so its head rested on the highwayman's abdomen. As the unicorn was moving, my highwayman made it so he was on his back.

"I'm very uncomfortable," he told me. I think he was on a decent sized, dull rock.

The unicorn nickered.

"Oh? Are you comfortable?" the highwayman asked the unicorn in possible sarcasm.

It had the audacity to nicker again.

His head hit the ground as he mumbled, "Of course you are." His troubled gaze found me again. "You better get comfortable, too. We might be here for awhile."

I couldn't help but giggle a little.

Hey! Are there blacksmiths in your story? I'm a hobbyist blacksmith and I'm here to help!

Blacksmithing is one of those things that a lot of people get wrong because they don't realize it stuck around past the advent of the assembly line. Here's a list of some common misconceptions I see and what to do instead!

Not all blacksmiths are gigantic terrifying muscly guys with beards and deep voices. I am 5'8, skinny as a twig, have the muscle mass of wet bread, and exist on Tumblr. Anybody who is strong enough to pick up a hammer and understands fire safety can be a blacksmith.

You can make more than just swords with blacksmithing. Though swords are undeniably practical, they're not the only things that can be made. I've made candle holders, wall hooks, kebab skewers, fire pokers, and more. Look up things other people have made, it's really amazing what can be done.

"Red-hot" is actually not that hot by blacksmith terms. when heated up, the metal goes from black, to red, to orange, to yellow, to white. (for temperature reference, I got a second degree burn from picking up a piece of metal on black heat) The ideal color to work with the metal is yellow. White is not ideal at all, because the metal starts sparking and gets all weird and lumpy when it cools. (At no point in this process does the metal get even close to melting. It gets soft enough to work with, but I have never once seen metal become a liquid.)

Blacksmithing takes fucking forever. Not even taking into account starting the forge, selecting and preparing metal, etc. etc. it takes me around an hour to make one (1) fancy skewer. The metals blacksmiths work with heat up and cool down incredibly fast. When the forge is going good, it only takes like 20 seconds to get your metal hot enough to work with, but it takes about the same time for it to cool down, sometimes even less.

As long as you are careful, it is actually stupidly easy to not get hurt while blacksmithing. When I picked up this hobby I was like "okay, cool! I'm gonna make stuff, and I'm gonna end up in the hospital at some point!" Thus far, the latter has yet to occur. I've been doing this for nearly a year. I have earned myself a new scar from the aforementioned second degree burn, and one singe mark on my jeans. I don't even wear gloves half the time. Literally just eye protection, common sense, and fast reflexes and you'll probably be fine. (Accidents still happen of course, but I have found adequate safety weirdly easy to achieve with this hobby)

A forge is not a fire. The forge is the thing blacksmiths put their metal in to heat it up. It starts as a small fire, usually with newspaper or something else that's relatively small and burns easily, which we then put in the forge itself, which is sort of a fireplace-esque thing (there's a lot of different types of forge, look into it and try to figure out what sort of forge would make the most sense for the context you're writing about) and we cover it with coal, which then catches fire and heats up. The forge gets really hot, and sometimes really bright. Sometimes when I stare at the forge for too long it's like staring into the sun. The forge is also not a waterfall of lava, Steven Universe. It doesn't work like that, Steven Universe.

Welding and blacksmithing are not the same thing. They often go hand-in-hand, but you cannot connected two pieces of metal with traditional blacksmithing alone. There is something called forge welding, where you heat your metal, sprinkle borax (or the in-universe equivalent) on it to prevent the metal from oxidizing/being non-weldable, and hammer the pieces together very quickly. Forge welding also sends sparks flying everywhere, and if you're working in a small space with other blacksmiths, you usually want to announce that you're welding before you do, so that everyone in a five-foot radius can get out of that five-foot radius. You also cannot just stuck some random pebbles into the forge and get a decent piece of metal that you can actually make something with, Steven Universe. It doesn't work like that, Steven Universe.

Anvils are really fucking heavy. Nothing else to add here.

Making jewelry is not a blacksmithing thing unless you want jewelry made of steel. And it will be very ugly if you try. Blacksmithing wasn't invented to make small things.

If there's anything here I didn't mention, just ask and I'll do my best to answer.