By Ida
The wonderful storytelling of this year’s Carnival – much of it directed towards strengthening the Spirit Stillmirror – came to a startling conclusion, as the revelation of a warm, glowing substance called ‘fire’ by the Rat King of the Underground was followed by a violent blizzard. Most in the Forest are convinced that this was the work of the Spirit of Winter, who Stillmirror and Granny Moth-Spider have referred to as an opponent of the White Raccoon’s blessing, and who likely carried out the assault on Stillmirror a few months ago. Fortunately nobody was seriously injured, and after some time the blizzard abated. But how many more will there be, in a Winter that seems determined to strike against us?
Another, enigmatic piece of the puzzle: somebody has been trapping Forest animals, including this author’s own father, Upton, in their homes, by piling up leaves and branches to block the entrance-ways. Upton said: “I was sharing a story about my own encounter with a Spirit more widely than I had before last week… somebody wanted to silence me, I’d guess.”
Winter has hereby demonstrated its true threat. One small fire is not enough to conquer it. The power of one is nought compared to the power of multitudes.
Hence, it is imperative to emphasise that the solution can only work if enough people rally around it. This is our final chance to survive the Winter. Fire can be contained. In the Underground, its usage has become widespread. Multiple balls of fire have been captured along the Nether Labyrinth. No more shall the tunnels be overcast with dreary shadow. They now shine brighter than most cavities on the surface, as the hours of night draw ever longer.
Moreover, the tunnels remain warm. Where fire burns bright, warmth dissipates. The temperature of various burrows has been recorded as the same as in early Autumn. Even if fire cannot dispel Winter entirely, where enough of its power is harnessed, it can enlighten spaces so that they may endure. And endure we must. His Lowness, The Rat King, humbly invites anybody to whom this may be of interest to examine the effects for themselves.
Only together can we survive this Winter.
Do what is wise and enlightened.
This message has been authorised for distribution on behalf of His Lowness, The Rat King, and His Council.
Rumours have been heard floating around that the monstrous metallic Guardian may have ‘sung’ once again. As of yet we have no confirmation of this, and indeed this seems highly unlikely due to the fact that it has never sounded twice in such quick succession before, but the rumours are a little too loud to be disregarded. According to some, this occurred on the night of the Carnival, and the ‘song’ resembled a chilling scream.
No animal will likely forget anytime soon the torrential hail that struck last month, where hailstones as large as apples plummeted from the sky. None more so than Boy and his Cows.
The City’s emergency responders were out in the Plains training when the storm began. As the hail initially fell, its icy stones no larger than usual, Boy made the crucial and undoubtedly incorrect decision to continue training, resulting in the Cows being left stranded in the open once the larger hailstones began to rain down. Numerous Cows were injured, including Boy, who purportedly suffered a blow directly to his head. We can only be thankful the hail abated as quickly as it did, or else Boy’s lapse of judgement may have resulted in far more catastrophic injuries.
In the following month, the herd shrank to a shadow of its former size as numerous members, including many of the original cows, understandably pulled out of the herd, often citing injury or age as their reason for retirement. Throughout this, Boy became practically a recluse, hosting no further trainings, making no public statements, appearing only at emergencies briefly before fleeing again.
Then, just today, Boy unexpectedly emerged to give this exclusive statement to the Pigeons: “Given the events of the past month, and the severity of the Winter we are expectin’, I can no longer in good conscience put my Cows at risk of bein’ casualties for the benefit of others. It is with the heaviest of hearts that I must announce I have taken the difficult decision to disband the Cows as a structured organisation. All former members will receive an equal split of the food stocks we have, enough to get them through the Winter, but no further work shall be asked of them. I thank each and every one of my Cows for the services they have provided to me and this City, but I now ask you to go home. I thank everyone for their understandin’ and patience in these tryin’ circumstances. No further questions.”
A number of Pigeons distribute the following message throughout the City:
Autumn has come to an end, and Winter has arrived. As we enter this colder time of year, it might be difficult to find food and keep warm. If you find yourself having these issues, or any other problems, then please reach out to a member of Helping Paw. We are here to help you!
You might notice this week that the usual loud penguin with the upturned bucket on their head is not doing the rounds proclaiming what has taken the Empress’ fancy this week. Instead, the news that comes from the Shore comes in waves, from animals running back and forth. The previously quiet disturbances in the Depths have become substantial. The bottom of the Lake has begun to shake with a power unseen by any animal living today. The Empress has decreed that all non-necessary trips into the Lake are to be suspended, and plans are being made to evacuate the animals who rely on water to breathe to the channels, ponds and rivers in the Forests, Plains and Underground.
Through all this uncertainty, a name is spoken in whispers. It That Hungers hungers once more.