Animal knitting patterns

To cultivate a meaningful practice with Oracle Card Spreads, start by choosing a deck that resonates with you. Establish a sacred space for your readings and set clear intentions. Regularly cleanse and charge your cards. Develop a connection with each card's symbolism through meditation and reflection. Practice various spreads to enhance your interpretive skills. Trust your intuition and incorporate journaling to track your insights.
Consistency and openness are key to deepening your understanding of Oracle Cards. Oracle cards are a divination tool similar to Tarot cards, consisting of a deck with unique images and symbols. Unlike Tarot, Oracle cards don't adhere to a standardized structure, allowing for greater creativity in design. These cards are used for intuitive guidance, self-reflection, and spiritual insights. Each card carries a specific meaning or message, and users often draw cards randomly or lay out spreads to gain insights into various aspects of their lives or seek answers to specific questions.
Oracle cards are embraced by individuals seeking personal growth, inspiration, and a connection to their intuition.
Oracle cards are diverse, covering themes like angels, animals, mythology, or affirmations. Users interpret the cards based on intuition, imagery, and personal associations rather than a fixed set of meanings.
The practice involves shuffling the deck, posing a question, and drawing cards to receive guidance. Some use Oracle cards for daily inspiration, while others turn to them during pivotal life moments.
The open-ended nature of Oracle cards encourages users to explore their spirituality, fostering a unique and personal connection with the deck.
Regular use enhances one's intuitive abilities and deepens the bond with the cards.To deepen your Oracle card practice, consider exploring different spreads that cater to specific inquiries or areas of your life.
Develop a ritual around your readings, such as grounding exercises or meditation, to enhance focus and receptivity. Engage with the imagery on the cards through visualization and contemplation, allowing your subconscious to contribute to the interpretation.
Maintain a journal to record your readings, insights, and feelings, fostering a reflective process that helps track patterns and personal growth over time. Remember, the essence of Oracle cards lies in personal connection and intuition, making each reading a unique and enriching experience.
Experiment with combining Oracle card readings with other spiritual practices like meditation, crystal work, or rituals to create a holistic experience.
Join communities or online forums to share experiences and insights with fellow practitioners, gaining new perspectives on card interpretations. Periodically cleanse and recharge your cards to maintain their energy.
Embrace the evolving nature of your practice, allowing it to adapt as you grow spiritually. As you become more attuned to your intuition, you may find that Oracle cards become a powerful tool for self-discovery, guidance, and empowerment.
Consider integrating Oracle card readings into a mindful routine, incorporating them into moments of introspection, gratitude, or goal-setting. Explore different spreads or design your own to tailor readings to specific aspects of your life. Share your insights with others or use Oracle cards in group settings for collective guidance.
As you progress, don't hesitate to explore advanced techniques, such as combining multiple decks or creating your own cards to personalize the experience further. Ultimately, the key lies in cultivating a practice that resonates with you, fostering a deeper connection with the spiritual insights Oracle cards can offer.
To further enrich your Oracle card practice, delve into the symbolism and history behind the specific deck you're using. Understanding the cultural or spiritual context can deepen your appreciation and interpretation of the cards. Explore different spreads for specific purposes, such as love, career, or personal growth.
Additionally, regularly revisit and reassess your personal connection to the cards, allowing your evolving perspectives to influence the readings. Continuously expand your knowledge by exploring diverse decks and attending workshops or classes on Oracle card reading. This ongoing exploration ensures a dynamic and evolving practice tailored to your unique spiritual journey.
Grounding exercises help anchor you in the present moment and connect with the physical world. Here are a few simple grounding techniques:

1. Deep Breathing: Take slow, deep breaths. Inhale deeply through your nose, hold for a few seconds, and exhale slowly through your mouth. Focus on the sensation of your breath to bring your attention to the present.
   
2. Body Scan: Sit or lie down comfortably. Pay attention to each part of your body, starting from your toes and moving up. Notice any tension and consciously release it, bringing awareness to each body part.
   
3. Mindful Walking: Take a slow walk and pay attention to each step. Feel the ground beneath your feet, notice the movement of your body, and observe your surroundings. This helps shift your focus from thoughts to the physical experience.
   
4. Grounding Objects: Hold onto an object with texture or weight, like a stone or a piece of fabric. Pay attention to its features, temperature, and the way it feels in your hand, bringing your awareness to the present moment.
   
5. Visualization: Imagine roots extending from your body into the ground, like a tree. Envision these roots grounding you and providing stability. Connect with the Earth's energy as you visualize this grounding process.
   
6. Five Senses Check: Engage your senses by identifying five things you can see, four things you can touch, three things you can hear, two things you can smell, and one thing you can taste. This exercise brings you into the immediate sensory experience.
   
7. Affirmations: Repeat positive affirmations or mantras to center your thoughts. Affirmations can help redirect your focus and bring a sense of calmness.
   

Experiment with these grounding exercises to find what resonates best with you, and use them whenever you need to center yourself or alleviate stress.
To incorporate crystals and rituals into your Oracle card practice, consider the following steps:

1. Crystal Selection: Choose crystals that resonate with your intentions or the specific energy you want to enhance during your Oracle card readings. For example, amethyst for intuition, rose quartz for love, or clear quartz for clarity.
   
2. Cleansing Crystals: Before each reading, cleanse your chosen crystals to remove any previous energies. You can use methods like smudging with sage, placing them in moonlight or sunlight, or using other crystal-clearing techniques.
   
3. Crystal Placement: Position your crystals around your Oracle card deck or spread. You can place them in a pattern or intuitively position them based on the energy you want to enhance. Trust your instincts and the energies of the crystals.
   
4. Setting Intentions: Before beginning your Oracle card reading, set clear intentions for the session. State your purpose and what guidance or insights you seek. This helps align the energy of the crystals and cards with your intentions.
   
5. Ritual Elements: Create a ritual around your Oracle card practice. This might include lighting candles, playing soft music, or incorporating specific colors or symbols that hold personal meaning. Consistency in your ritual can create a conducive environment for your practice.
   
6. Meditation with Crystals: Meditate with your chosen crystals before starting the Oracle card reading. This helps attune your energy to the vibrations of the crystals and enhances your intuitive connection.
   
7. Crystal Grids: Experiment with creating crystal grids around your Oracle card space. This involves arranging crystals in a specific pattern to amplify energy and intention. Grids can be simple or complex, depending on your preference.
   
8. Closing Ritual: Conclude your Oracle card session with a closing ritual. Express gratitude for the insights received, release any energy that no longer serves you, and cleanse both the cards and crystals. This helps maintain a clear and positive energy space.
   
9. Crystal Charging: Periodically recharge your crystals to maintain their energy. You can do this by placing them in the sunlight, moonlight, or on a selenite charging plate. This ensures that the crystals remain potent and ready for your Oracle card sessions.
   
10. Incorporate Elemental Energies: Align your practice with the elements. For example, use earthy crystals for grounding (e.g., hematite), airy crystals for mental clarity (e.g., clear quartz), watery crystals for emotional insight (e.g., moonstone), and fiery crystals for passion (e.g., carnelian). This adds a elemental dimension to your readings.
    
11. Create Ritual Symbols: Develop symbols or gestures that act as anchors for specific energies during your Oracle card readings. For instance, drawing a particular symbol in the air or using hand gestures can amplify your intention and focus.
    
12. Moon Phases and Oracle Readings: Leverage the energy of different moon phases for your Oracle card readings. Perform readings during the new moon for new beginnings, the full moon for clarity and manifestation, or the waning moon for releasing and letting go.
    
13. Crystal Elixirs: Create crystal elixirs by placing crystals in water under moonlight or sunlight (ensuring the crystals are safe for water). Use the elixir to anoint your cards or drink before a reading, infusing the energy of the crystals into your practice.
    
14. Dedicated Sacred Space: Designate a specific area for your Oracle card practice and crystal work. This sacred space can be adorned with meaningful items, creating an energetic container that enhances your connection with the divine and your intuitive abilities.
    
15. Intuitive Crystal Pairing: Trust your intuition when combining crystals with Oracle cards. Allow yourself to be drawn to certain crystals based on the energy you sense or the guidance you seek. Intuitive pairings can deepen the resonance of your readings.
    

Continuously explore and adapt these practices to align with your evolving spiritual journey. The synergy of crystals, rituals, and Oracle cards can create a powerful and personalized experience, enriching your connection with your inner wisdom and the energies around you.

(that have an upcoming film announced)
poor things- kinds of kindness/bugonia
Past Lives - Materialists
Maestro- Is this thing on
Killers of the Flower Moon etc. -The life of jesus
Barbie etc- Narnia movie
Triangle of Sadness - The entertainment system is down
Top Gun: Maverick - Formula one movie
The Fabelmans etc, - Bullitt or ufo movie
Elvis - Live action tangled maybe
Avatar: The Way of Water- Avatar 3
All Quiet on the Western Front - Conclave
Everything Everywhere All at Once- untitled 2026 film
Licorice Pizza - Untitled Leo DiCaprio film
dune/arrival- dune messiah, rendezvous with rama, cleopatra, nuclear war
Don't Look Up- climate change movie
CODA - Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow
Minari - twisters
Nomadland- western sci-fi dracula
1917 etc. - 4 beatles movies
Marriage Story- untitled george clooney movie
Joker- joker folie a deux
Jojo Rabbit- flash gordon/klara and the sun/star wars movie
Parasite- mickey 17
BlacKkKlansman- high and low
Black Panther- vampire movie
Green Book- i am rocky
Get Out- untitled film
Call Me by Your Name- queer
La La Land- untitled prison movie
Hell or High Water- relay
Hacksaw Ridge- passion of the Christ resurrection/ lethal weapon 5
Moonlight- mufasa the lion king
The Martian- gladiator 2/bomb
Mad Max: Fury Road- furiosa
Brooklyn- we live in time
The Imitation Game- Pattern Recognition
The Grand Budapest Hotel- The Phoenician Scheme
Boyhood- hit man
American Sniper etc. - juror no 2
Philomena- wilder and me
Captain Phillips- the lost bus
American Hustle- super toys/madden/simple dreams/get smart reboot (david o'russel is working on 4 movies but spike jonze is working on 0, fuck hollywood)
12 Years a Slave- blitz
Zero Dark Thirty- aurora
Life of Pi etc,- bruce lee biopic
Argo- animals
The Tree of Life- the way of the wind
The Artist- the most precious of cargoes
Black Swan- caught stealing
Precious- the deliverance
frost/nixon etc- eden
juno- snl1975
finding neverland - white bird/thomas and friends/the graveyard book
traffic/EB- black bag
The Sixth Sense- trap
As Good as It Gets- ella mckay
A Few Good Men- this is spinal tap 2
beauty and the beast- Galaxy Gas
rain man- alto knights
forrest gump- here
dances with wolves- horizon
which one are you anticipating? if there's others i missed, comment them

I have art block and I wanted to learn how to draw something completely new, and make a study of it. Any recommendations? (This can be objects, animals, patterns, you name it. Please keep it SFW tho.

I'm in a bit of a predicament
28M personal trainer in the UK. Very new to the industry. I currently work for a big commercial gym chain. The area is nice, but the clientele is very low value as there is no contract for members with my gym and you can be a member from 16 years old. My current monthly rent is £790 a month, with the first payment due on 1st July. I do 12 hours of contracted work where I help clean up, do gym classes etc for minimum wage.
I went into a gym nearby the other day, which opened at the end of march. This gym is a franchise and seems a little more tight knit with a minimum of one years contract for members signing up. There is currently 1 PT there. I got talking to the owner about rent prices for personal trainers and the conversation turned into essentially an informal offer from him for me to come and PT there. I said I'll need to think about it.
Do I stay at my current gym or take the plunge and accept this offer? I've listed pros and cons below to make it a bit clearer:
Pros of my current gym:

1. Extremely close by (15 min walk)
2. Management leave you to get on with what you need to do
3. Job stability as I am already here

Cons of my current gym:

1. Lots of poorly maintained equipment
2. Dirty
3. Understaffed (another PT is leaving in 2 weeks and they are having to close the club earlier)
4. Expensive rent
5. Flakey clients/lots of students
6. Contracted hours are mandatory
7. 24/7 with staff hours between 6am-10pm, so erratic contracted shift patterns

Pros of new gym:

1. Brand new equipment
2. Clean
3. Only one other PT currently, so potential monopoly on clients
4. Flexible with rent choices (no contracted hours for more rent or do a few hours for less rent etc)
5. Staffing hours 8am to 10am so little bit easier in the mornings
6. Potentially higher quality clients and client retention

Cons of new gym:

1. Been open for 3 months and only 1 PT (potential red flag?)
2. Further away (20 minute cycle or 10 minute train)
3. Could join and end up getting no clients, then I'm really fucked haha
4. Potentially same value clients as current gym
5. Lots of competition from other gyms in the area

If you guys have any tips or advice on how best to proceed I'd really appreciate it

Grass, belonging to the Poaceae family (also known as Gramineae), is one of the most widespread and ecologically significant plant families on Earth. This family includes a vast array of species, ranging from those that make up our lawns and pastures to the staple food crops that sustain much of the world's population, such as wheat, rice, and corn. Grasses are crucial for various reasons, encompassing their unique botanical characteristics, their ecological roles, their evolutionary history, their cultivation and uses, and the challenges they face. This comprehensive overview aims to provide an in-depth understanding of these aspects.
Grasses exhibit a distinct growth habit and structural anatomy that set them apart from other plant families. The root systems of grasses are typically fibrous, forming a dense network of roots that are excellent at stabilizing soil and accessing water and nutrients from the upper soil layers. This characteristic is especially vital in preventing soil erosion and promoting soil health.
The stems of grasses, known as culms, are generally hollow and segmented by nodes. The internodes, or the spaces between these nodes, can vary in length and are crucial for species identification. The leaves of grasses are usually slender and elongated with parallel veins. They emerge from the nodes and are sheathed around the stem. At the base of the leaf, there is often a ligule, a small membranous or hairy appendage that helps in differentiating between various grass species.
The reproductive structures of grasses are also unique. Grass flowers, or florets, are typically small and inconspicuous, grouped into spikelets. These spikelets are arranged in different types of inflorescences such as spikes, racemes, or panicles. The flowers of grasses are generally adapted for wind pollination, a characteristic that is reflected in their structure, which lacks large, colorful petals. Instead, they have specialized structures that facilitate the dispersal of pollen by the wind.
Most grasses reproduce sexually through seeds. The flowers produce pollen that is carried by the wind to fertilize other plants, resulting in seed formation. Many grasses can also reproduce vegetatively through rhizomes (underground stems) or stolons (above-ground runners). This method of asexual reproduction allows grasses to spread and colonize large areas efficiently, contributing to their dominance in many ecosystems.
Grasses play an indispensable role in soil conservation. Their dense root systems are incredibly effective at binding the soil, reducing the risk of erosion caused by wind and water. This is particularly important in regions prone to desertification or where the soil has been exposed due to deforestation or agricultural activities. By stabilizing the soil, grasses help maintain soil health and prevent the loss of fertile topsoil.
In terms of climate regulation, grasslands serve as significant carbon sinks. Through the process of photosynthesis, grasses absorb carbon dioxide from the atmosphere and store it in their biomass and soil. This carbon sequestration process helps mitigate the effects of climate change by reducing the concentration of CO2 in the atmosphere. Additionally, grasslands influence local and regional climates by affecting evapotranspiration rates, which is the combined process of evaporation from the soil and transpiration from plants.
Grasslands support a remarkable diversity of life, providing habitat and food for numerous animal species, including insects, birds, and mammals. The structure of grassland ecosystems supports a variety of plant species, creating a complex web of interactions and dependencies. This biodiversity is crucial for the resilience of these ecosystems, enabling them to withstand and recover from environmental changes and disturbances.
Grasses also play a vital role in the water cycle. They help in the infiltration of rainwater into the soil, reducing runoff and promoting groundwater recharge. By slowing down water movement, grasses help prevent flooding and maintain the moisture levels in the soil, which is essential for the health of the ecosystem and for agricultural productivity.
The evolutionary history of grasses is relatively recent compared to other plant families. Grasses evolved around 66 million years ago during the late Cretaceous period. Their rise to dominance is closely linked to the cooling and drying of the Earth's climate, which favored the spread of grasslands over forests. The diversification of grasses has been driven by their ability to adapt to a wide range of environments, from tropical savannas and temperate prairies to arid steppes and alpine meadows.
In agriculture, grasses are indispensable. They include some of the world's most important food crops, such as wheat, rice, maize (corn), barley, and oats. These cereal grains provide a significant portion of the global caloric intake and are fundamental to the diets of billions of people. The cultivation of these crops has shaped human civilization and continues to be a cornerstone of global food security.
Many grass species are also cultivated as forage for livestock. Species like alfalfa, ryegrass, and clover are commonly grown for grazing, hay, and silage. These forage grasses are essential for the livestock industry, providing the necessary nutrition for animals and supporting dairy and meat production.
Beyond food and forage, grasses are being explored as sources of bioenergy. Species like switchgrass and miscanthus are considered promising candidates for biofuel production due to their high biomass yield. These grasses can be converted into biofuels, providing a renewable energy source that can help reduce our reliance on fossil fuels.
In landscaping, grasses are widely used for creating lawns, parks, golf courses, and sports fields. Turf grasses such as Kentucky bluegrass, Bermuda grass, and fescue are selected for their durability, aesthetic appeal, and ability to withstand foot traffic and mowing. These grasses play a significant role in urban and suburban environments, contributing to the aesthetic and recreational value of these areas.
Grasses are also used in erosion control and land rehabilitation. They are often planted to stabilize soil and restore degraded lands. For example, vetiver grass is used for its deep root system, which can prevent landslides and rehabilitate mining sites and other disturbed areas. By stabilizing the soil and improving its structure, grasses help restore the ecological balance and promote the recovery of degraded landscapes.
Despite their many benefits, grasses face several challenges. Some grass species can become invasive, outcompeting native species and disrupting local ecosystems. For instance, kudzu and cogongrass have spread aggressively in some regions, requiring significant management efforts to control their growth and prevent ecological damage.
Grasses are also susceptible to pests and diseases. Fungal diseases like rusts and smuts, as well as pests such as armyworms and grasshoppers, can cause significant damage to grass crops and turf. Effective pest and disease management strategies are essential to protect these valuable resources.
Climate change poses additional challenges for grassland ecosystems and agricultural practices. Shifts in temperature and precipitation patterns can affect the growth and distribution of grass species, impacting food security and ecosystem stability. Droughts, floods, and other extreme weather events can stress grasslands, reducing their productivity and resilience.
Adopting sustainable management practices is crucial for maintaining healthy grasslands and ensuring the long-term viability of grass-based agriculture. Practices such as rotational grazing, integrated pest management, conservation tillage, and the use of drought-resistant grass varieties can help mitigate the impacts of environmental stressors and promote the sustainability of grasslands.
Grasses are an indispensable component of Earth's ecosystems and human agriculture. Their diverse roles range from stabilizing soils and sequestering carbon to providing food and forage. Understanding the complexities of grass biology, ecology, and management is essential for harnessing their benefits while addressing the challenges they face in a changing world. By promoting sustainable practices and responsible stewardship, we can ensure that grasslands continue to thrive and support both natural ecosystems and human livelihoods.

Hey! Am looking for an LDR! I work for an IT company based in the US. I work late nights and I do part time for a social media influencer. My sleeping pattern is all over the place so my timings are a bit different. Lolz.
Although my interests aren't eclectic, I like to talk about music, food, and a bit of anime!
I like to cook and according to my friends the food I make is delish. All the testing in the kitchen made me real fat loool like fr
Alsooo, I'll be in Victoria, BC in July until October.
If you think we can vibe, message me. :)

In no particular order. 1. Improved skin system, similar to the initial JWE2 system. E.g. base skin, pattern, pattern colour. 2. Natural walls, e.g. stone and wood. 3. Petting zoo/ mini exhibits for the smaller dinos like microceratus and segisaurus, basically useless in big exhibits as they are too small and can barely be seen. 4. More terrain tools, being able to create cliffs and caves. 5. Walkway viewing system, similar to the raptor paddock in JW, being able to walk above the exhibits. 6. Semi aquatic dinos being able to swim in either lagoons or a new revamped system. 7. New attractions. Boat tour, aquarium tunnel, balloon tour etc. 8. Cenezoic creatures and other prehistoric eras. 9. Specific species: Shantungosaurus, mapusaurus, irritator, pssitacosaurus, sarco Kapro and deinosuchus, megalania, Argentiosaurus, hatzegopteryx, rhamphorhynchus, helicoprion, xiphactinus, leedsicthys, basilosaurus, onchopristis. 10. More customisation in buildings. 11. Bridges and stone walls for paths. 12. Customisable islands. 13. All biome brushes for all islands. 14. Animal shelters, (natural options, e.g. caves + nests. 15. Not breeding, but a dinosaur lifecycle, born as a baby and growing up. A change in colouration and pattern as they get older. 16. improved animations, all dinosaurs having a selction of 3 different animations for everything, e.g. hunting, social, idle, sleeping. 17. aquatic species able to breach and beach themselves, also able to hunt pterosaurs flying over the lagoons, or give the pterosaurs the ability to hunt the fish in the lagoons which gives the larger species the chance to catch and eat them.

My (32F) mother (58F) is generally mean and unpleasant to everyone. She says things to humiliate people, mock their discomforts, order people around instead of asking nicely if she wants something done, childishly mock their faces or voices, give the silent treatment, and assume bad intentions, even of children or animals, or she'll just shit-talk people who aren't there. I've started setting boundaries with her over the past few years and generally making it less rewarding for her to treat me like this, and she's backed off. Our relationship isn't close, but it's polite.
I'm unsure how to respond when she's this way to other people though, like my Dad or siblings. The general family pattern is to just do what she says or laugh it off or try to please her or ignore it, but I would rather make it uncomfortable for her to say these things in the way she does. However, there's something that feels wrong about that if it's not directed at me in the first place. Should I just mind my own business? These things still really bring the mood down for everyone and everybody is always on edge around her.
Tldr: What is the best way to respond to someone being mean to other people and bringing the whole mood down, even if it is not directed at you?

i'm knitting a top-down raglan sweater (not using a pattern) and i'm halfway through it. i finished the torso part and half of the first sleeve.
i don't like the collar and i want to redo it.
i have put a lifeline in this sweater before to change the length of the torso and ripped it from the bind off. can i put a lifeline on the neckline and rip it from the cast on stitches? is that possible or will it ruin my sweater?
this isn't urgent and i'll change the collar once i finish knitting both the sleeves but i don't want to ruin this, it's my first full sweater.
any help is appreciated.

Stories need people in them to bring them alive. There are so many types of interesting people who we read about in books If characters are written well, we can feel as though we know them or perhaps become friends with them. So when they feel something, we feel it right along with the characters.
But something I don't see discussed much here are the whacky non-human characters. The familiars, the daemons, the Spren etc. So I want to know about your favourite book creatures that are not the human characters.
I have two that I want to mention. The first is a creature from the second Stormlight novel and beyond. He's called Pattern and he's hilarious. The funny things that he takes so literally. The fact that dispite seeming like a weirdo, where e's from, he's considered a schollar. Or so he says anyway.
The second is from the Farseer Trilogy from Robin Hobb. Spoilers incoming I don't still understand the spoiler tag so any help would be helpful. The wolf is one of the cutest, most interesting animal sidekicks I've ever met. The way Robin writes from the imagined perspective of the wolf really allowed me to feel as though I was hunting or talking in a boy's head. He shares strength but at the end of the day he's the teacher who's lesson is to live in the now. Wolves don't have to be caught up in worry all the time. He is such a well written character all on his own and even though he's bonded to a human, he so has his own personality which is awesome.
Also as a bonus, Vivacia from the the Live Ships trilogy. I can't even talk about her because she'd need her own full post. But she is multifaceted and but dispite not being a human has some very distinct personality stuff going on.
So now you tell me yours. I need all the familiar love. Edit: I think I like paragon even more than Vivacia if that’s even possible.

Alright Apes,
I was out walking my dog, ready to get back home to go to sleep, and then it happened. I did one last check of superstonk to get my dopamine hit that is our community and well, I got more than I asked for. Now I have too much energy to sleep because I am so fucking hyped for what I found. So here I am.
This beautiful post popped up at nearly midnight my time.
When it said watch in reverse, I had mixed emotions because one of my favorite post was the one with the opening to the White Stripes glitch mob remix. Go watch the video if you haven’t already. That’s one of my favorite songs for very personal reasons and the idea that GME was about to unleash something that caused a glitch was very exciting to me. I wanted that to be the foreshadowing that RK left us with.
But I like every other GME theory I read, it consumes me. I’m obsessed. So what the heck, let’s go watch everything in reverse.
Lucky for me I realized very quickly that when you go to the X iphone app and watch the latest video in full screen, you can just swipe up to see the next video. So, the next hour of my night was planned out.
That was an hour ago. I am so hyped about what I saw that I’ve decided to sit down and write out the my whole interpretation of what I saw. I don’t have answers for every single post but there does seem to be a theme that matches the theory that these are meant to watch in reverse.
Buckle up.
One last things before I get started. I think DFV has been here all along. I think he has read all of the DD and I think he made his memes with all of that in mind. I highly doubt he knows anything for sure but is just a fan of the DD. Just like I am. And there is one DD I fell in love with from the first moment I read it. I think he did too and this is his thesis. He has read all the tea leaves and doesn't think anyone has put it together like he has so he is sharing his interoperation of the DD, the market conditions, and the news and is going to do one last DD himself.
Ok. Here we go.
Oh, and this is not financial advice.
Ok. Here we go for real.
ET: This might actually be him saying goodbye for now. Hopefully not forever (still kinda sad we never got a ET 2).
Horse Gift: Not sure how to interpret this one. Maybe foreshadowing that he found (or was gifted) the GME bull thesis and at that point, he wasn’t sure if it was a good thing for a bad things. “We’ll see”
Coldplay Backwards: GME had to pull back for him to find the right time to get in.
Forest Running: And then it started running.
Original Sheet Music: Then he started meme. The memes were “MIRACULOUS”.
My favorite post – The White Stripes Glitch Mob video intro: Seriously, if you haven’t watched the video, go now. It’s hype af. This is the video that marks the Jan 2021 glitch. The sneeze.
MIB Kitty: And then GME became RK’s galaxy.
That’s not a Knife: He was the memelord at this point but shorties wanted his gains.
Westworld’s Bernard: Then the bear thesis’ started coming out but we can’t see what we are programed not to see. We were already programed at this point thanks to the bulleproof bull thesis.
Ocean’s Gang in Prison: And then we got thrown in a prison together when so many people bought at high prices.
Beavis and Butthead: We were obsessed with Cohen at this point. We hung on to every tweet. Sex for Dummies was a very popular one. Lot’s of theories popped up with this tweet.
A Few Good Men: DFV visits Congress!
Elaine Dancing: Is this him celebrating his gains and/or not getting thrown in prison?
Aladdin: They tried to take his gains away?
Truman > Mourinho’s In Big Trouble: He was gagged.
ASIP In Therapy: RK went to therapy and found he loved making memes and GME?
Newman: Talking about his experience as his new life as the United States GameStop memer and all the requests he was getting for memes.
Eddie Murphy: Chronicling his time as a memer
SNL The Shooting AKA Dear Sister: Not sure on this one.
Steve Wilkos: RK is ours and we are going to stick beside him
Succession: RK was reading so much about how he was the villain
Borne: More struggles with his identity as the GameStop memer and deciding what to do next.
CNBC > .50: Why does everyone hate RK?
The Dude: Not sure on this one.
Garden State: foreshadowing the jam that he’s about to get into this his next (older) posts
Every Everywhere All at Once: more foreshadowing.
Stand by Me: There’s a game of chicken going on. Shorts vs HODLers?
School of Rock: Reminding us what where here for. This journey isn’t going to be perfect but it’s Rock and Roll.
TeddyBears – Punk Rocker: He has both hands off the wheel now but he’s still along for the ride.
You Can’t Stop What’s Coming: Self-explanatory with likely last-minute cameo of the Chicago (where was Citadel founded?) BEARS thanks to the world’s most famous coke rat market manipulator.
Sicario 2: He’s asking us if we are ready to be the “villain” with him.
Flip Mode: If you really want to party with the Kitty, show him what you got (make some more memes people!!!)
The Shining: Our view of RK at work making his memes for the past 3 years.
500 days of Summer: Talking about why he does what he does. Because it’s going to last forever (more foreshadowing).
Luca: Him laughing at us not knowing everything. Just forget about it if you don’t understand, he has more for you.
Signs 1: This is where things get interesting. This is where we start seeing the signs. Connecting dots. We found something legit in all the DD.
Signs 2: The signs all pointed to GameStop. It’s all about GameStop and what they are going. Nothing else matters.
Signs 3: Are we the aliens? All of our best DD writers talking to each other were some of my favorite moments over the past 3 years. [There are theories about what these signs said and I will go back and fill that in later, I’m getting sleepy]
Signs 4: He is asking us if we believe the DD.
Signs 5: RK is one of us. Assuming we are the Aliens in these signs videos, he is telling us he is one of us.
The Modern Animal: We need to get a little crazy if we are going to take on the big city (NYC? Wall Street?)
Broad City: We made our own language. Memes. SuperStonk is a place for best friend with time to shoot.
GooseBumps: I THINK THIS IS WHERE WE ARE TODAY. RK is letting his briefcase of memes open and warning bears.
Everyone’s favorite Boss: Here some the SIGNS (memes for those who are not keeping up). He is going to his us ONE MORE TIME.
Pay Attention: NOW FUCKING PAY ATTENTION because he isn’t going to do this again.
Kill Bill: It’s time to fight and we are bad asses.
JigSaw + Kansas City Shuffle: Are you ready for the game? Because GameStop has you covered. Everything up to this point has been the inciting incident and catalyst of the Kansas City Shuffle. There is a very short scene where he says, “are you watching closely”? I saw a comments days ago that I can’t find and the very high level paraphrased version is that scene is from the Prestige and all of those hats were a result of him cloning himself. I think that represents the synthetics that plague our market. (I will find that comment that explains it better and go back to watch the movie myself and update this).
Shawshank: RK is telling us all it really takes is pressure and time to break out of their prison. While he was in prison, he went back to get his financial education. We also need an activist (investor, RC). There is a lot more nuance we can try to extrapolate form this one. I’ll save that for later.
Radiohead Karma Police: They have run the price down far enough. They have been leaking gas this whole time. It’s time for the match to be lit.
Neo: This is where Neo figures out how to work the matrix. The market is fake and everyone is mad. We all know it. When it comes to the market, we all took the red pill, and we see it for what it is.
Bullet Scene: Might need some help deciphering this one. I think it’s about how we (maybe not us but the general public) perceive the market. We see cause and effect but that’s now how it works. I think he is telling us that we don’t fully understand the market but our instincts are right and we just feel it. I think we as a community have that instinct.
Fury: Every boss is going to feel like the last one. They are going to pound us with misinformation, price manipulation, and anything else they can come up. But they are just taunting us to whoop some ass.
Trueman Show: They are going to hit us with everything they have but HOLD ON!
Me, Myself, & Irene: Them tanking the price is going to change how we feel and who we are.
Red Right Hand: Might need some help with this one too. The red hand man is stalking someone and the other person can’t do anything about it? Not sure who is who here.
Beat Saber: Might need some help with this too. Is he calling all freaks to show up because we are about to go to war?
Keith and Jake SNL: Everyone thinks Keith is crazy lol
Seinfeld: Calling out the memestock docs for being stupid. He had to some back and tell everyone to “Shut Up Bitch”
Shut Up Bitch: He delivers his best line to the people making him out to be a Vilian.
Coffee Mug Breaks: He is asking us to convince him to do it again.
Bane: RK is saying everything is going as planned.
Oceans (again): RK has been waiting for this time and it was all part of the plan.
Snoop: There was so much drama at GME. People had to be fired because they were someone dressed up as something else. Moles?
Spiderman: It’s time for Keith Gill to become Roaring Kitty again.
Pizza Slices: Guy on the left is a shorty. He is getting mad with how popular things got with the thesis and how many people bought.
Missy Elliot ft Luda: Giving us confidence that he has a worldwide audience and he is about to kill all the rumors.
In Love with RC: He is telling us that RC is the right guy. Don’t doubt him.
Guardians: Everyone already knows who is in charge. Stop fighting to be in charge.
CNBC again: Some of the misinformation actually said RK is in charge. He is not. He is busy drawing dicks (memes).
Oceans (again): I think he is saying that no one person is in charge. It took everyone to give GME all that money. Or maybe it AVOCADO-IN-MY-ANUS all along?
Breaking Bad: His side still hasn’t been told?
Fight Club: RK finally accepting he is DFV
Nice Guy: He is still a nice guy despite what people are saying.
Day and Night: I think he is talking about his struggles day and night over the last 3 years.
Dave: He could’ve ignored it all but he couldn’t stand it. He’s about to keep it real with us.
Star Wars: help me fill in the blank on this one.
Ozarks: help me fill in the blank on this one.
Grim Reaper: The hedgies are trying to figure out what is going on with GameStop. They are I a holding pattern and will be coming with more hitman when what happens in the rest of the tweets goes down.
*******This is where shit gets real********
The Prestige: Alright. Put your tinfoil hat on tight. Here is my interpretation of this one. The magician makes something disappear, but the audience wants to be fooled so we are not actually looking for the secret. So, when something disappears we don’t clap because it’s not as impressive. But as soon as it comes back, the fights is on**~. I think the NFT marketplace is going to come back~**. But I think it’s going to come back as something else. I think they built the blockchain infrastructure for something other than the NFT marketplace. That is when shit is going to go crazy. Don’t believe me, keep reading.
Brand New GME: They finally embrace what everyone has been calling them. They show up one day looking sexy as fuck and blow everyone’s minds.
Prisoner: And now the prisoner (GME’s true price) has true FFFRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEDDDDDDDOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMM.
The fallout: The hedgies are going to beg us to sell our shares at 14 grand but the nature of us is pure CRAZY. We all knew who was calling on the phone.
Parking Lot Killer: That is who was calling. They are coming for the bears.
Requel: And just like that the requel begins production.
Old Computer Game: Now the question is, with this brand new, sexy af version of GME are we selling or are we staying? I think it’s going to be so fucking amazing we “>Stay”
Kittyman: When this all goes down, RK will return again.
How did they do it?: GME (or we?) seems stupid but apparently whoever it is really good at paperwork and the RK is so happy he’s doing backflips.
What do they need to do it?: They are going to need all of us and the target is up. HODL.
Kingsman: Shorties will then be locked in the room with us and they are going to come in fierce numbers.
The Town: They need our help we can’t ask questions but we have some sick ass rides to get there with.
Morning Affirmation Cat: Help me with this one. I’m tired.
Troy: Sick ass scene. GME just needs to land the killshot.
Pikey Reaction: They pulled the price back so far that it’s a loaded spring and when the shots are fired, it’s going to be raining money. Now “come hang so we go out with a bang”. Does he have your attention now?
Stop Fighting: NOW we can stop fighting.
Pirates of the Carrabin: The Pirate comes back from the dead (NFT Market Place?) and GME presses the red button to go into hyperdrive. This solidified my theory.
Tombstone: It’s not for revenge. It’s for something bigger. It’s a reckoning. Maybe a Glass Castle?
Standoff: Now that the red button was pressed, we have all the shorties in a stand off. But it doesn’t matter because the result of the red button is going to destroy it all? DO I HAVE YOUR ATTENTION NOW?
Avenger Initiative: We have to do it together. It’s not just one person.
Sherlok Holmes: When GME says run, RUN! And remember what it’s running for. You monther, father, children, sisters, and brothers. The DOG DAYS are over.
Drive: We think were all good here right? It’s all over. Guess again. We are going to have every governmental agency coming after us and our gains. We are going to be on the run.
Bloody Blade: Help me with this one.
But First: The overture. This will be how it starts. We must go backward to unlock the secret. Once we do, the dragon wakes up and it’s game on for the game of thrones. We are going to break the wheel.
Still Here: It’s done when we say it’s done. This tweet closes with the song from the whole days evil cept being blown up with green fire. Sick.
Thanos: This was the actual first tweet just like the ET was the actual last tweet. He has read all the tea leaves and doesn't think anyone has put it together like he has so he is sharing his interoperation of the DD, the market conditions, and the news and is going to do one last DD himself.
Hope you were sitting up in your red chair and paying attention.
Apologies for any typos and poor formatting. I've never made a post like this and I'm too tired to figure all of that out. I'll come back tomorrow and clean it all up with that and fill any gaps you guys help me out with.

I’ve always hated the smell of gun oil. It clings to everything it touches, soaking deep into the fibers of my clothes, the lining of my backpack, the coarse hair on the back of my hands. Yet here I am, kneeling on the cracked linoleum of our mudroom, a Remington .308 laid across my thighs, and the stench of gun oil sharp in my nostrils. The early morning light barely scratches at the edges of the blinds, dim and gray like the belly of a dead fish.
My dad Frank is in the kitchen, clattering around with the coffeepot and mumbling under his breath. Today we’re heading up to the woods of Northern Michigan, same as we did every year before Leah… before we lost her.
I can’t help but feel the old scars throbbing as I load bullets into the magazine. It’s been ten years since that hunting trip, the one that tore my family into before and after. Before, when Leah's laughter was a constant soundtrack to our lives; after, when every silence was filled with her absence.
We were just kids back then. I was ten, Leah was eight. It was supposed to be a typical hunting trip, one of those bonding experiences Dad was always talking about. But things went wrong. We got separated from Dad somehow. One minute we were following him, the next we were lost, the dense woods closing in around us.
Dad says when he found me, I was huddled under a fallen tree, my eyes wide, my body frozen. All I could mutter through chattering teeth was "Dogman."
It was only later, after the search parties had combed through every thicket and hollow, that they found her. What remained of Leah was barely recognizable, the evidence of a brutal mauling undeniable. The authorities concluded it was likely a bear attack, but Dad... he never accepted that explanation. He had seen the tracks, too large and oddly shaped for any bear.
As I load another round, the memory flashes, unbidden and unwelcome. Large, hairy clawed hands reaching out towards us, impossibly big, grotesque in their form. Yet, the rest of the creature eludes me, a shadow just beyond the edge of my recall, leaving me with nothing but fragmented terrors and Leah’s haunting, echoing screams. My mind blocked most of it out, a self-defense mechanism, I guess.
For years after that day, sleep was a battleground. I'd wake up in strange places—kitchen floor, backyard, even at the edge of the nearby creek. My therapist said it was my mind's way of trying to resolve the unresolved, to wander back through the woods searching for Leah. But all I found in those sleepless nights was a deeper sense of loss.
It took time, a lot of therapy, and patience I didn't know I had, but the sleepwalking did eventually stop. I guess I started to find some semblance of peace.
I have mostly moved on with my life. The fragmentary memories of that day are still there, lurking in the corners of my mind, but they don’t dominate my thoughts like they used to. I just finished my sophomore year at Michigan State, majoring in Environmental Science.
As for Dad, the loss of Leah broke him. He became a shell of himself. It destroyed his marriage with Mom. He blamed himself for letting us out of his sight, for not protecting Leah. His life took on a single, consuming focus: finding the creature that killed her. He read every book, every article on cryptids and unexplained phenomena. He mapped sightings, connected dots across blurry photos and shaky testimonies of the Dogman.
But as the tenth anniversary of Leah’s death approaches, Dad's obsession has grown more intense. He’s started staying up late, poring over his maps and notes, muttering to himself about patterns and cycles. He’s convinced that the dogman reappears every ten years, and this is our window of opportunity to finally hunt it down.
I’m not nearly as convinced. The whole dogman thing seems like a coping mechanism, a way for Dad to channel his guilt and grief into something tangible, something he can fight against. But I decided to tag along on this trip, partly to keep an eye on him, partly because a small part of me hopes that maybe, just maybe, we’ll find some kind of closure out there in the woods.
I finish loading the rifle and set it aside, standing up to stretch my legs. I wipe my greasy hands on an old rag, trying to get rid of the smell. The early morning light is starting to seep into the room, casting long shadows across the floor.
Dad comes out of the kitchen with two thermoses of coffee in hand. His eyes are bleary and tired.
“You ready, Ryan?” he asks, handing me a thermos, his voice rough from too many sleepless nights.
“Yeah, I’m ready,” I reply, trying to sound more confident than I felt.
We load our gear into the truck, the weight of our supplies and weapons a physical reminder of the burden we carry. The drive from Lansing across the Lower Peninsula is long and quiet, the silence between us filled with unspoken memories and unresolved grief.
—
The drive north is a blur of highway lines and the dull hum of the engine. I drift off, the landscape outside blending into a haze. In my sleep, fragments of that day with Leah replay like scattered pieces of a puzzle. I see her smile, the way she tugged at my sleeve, eager to explore. The sunlight filters through the trees in sharp, jagged streaks.
Then, the memory shifts—darker, disjointed. Leah's voice echoes, a playful laugh turning into a scream that pierces the air. The crunch of leaves underfoot as something heavy moves through the underbrush. I see a shadow, large and looming, not quite fitting the shapes of any creature I know.
Then, something darker creeps into the dream, something I’ve never allowed myself to remember clearly.
Before I can see what it is I wake up with a start as the truck jerks slightly on a rough patch of road. Dad glances over. "Bad dream?" he asks. I nod, rubbing the sleep from my eyes, the remnants of the dream clinging to me like the cold.
"Yeah, just... thinking about Leah," I manage to say.
As we drive, Dad attempts to bridge the silence with small talk. He asks about my finals, my plans for the summer, anything to keep the conversation going. His voice carries a forced cheerfulness, but it’s clear his heart isn’t in it. I respond when necessary, my answers brief, my gaze fixed on the passing scenery.
The landscape changes as we head further north, from flat expanses to rolling hills dotted with dense patches of forest. It's beautiful country, the kind that reminds you how vast and wild Michigan can be, but today it just feels oppressive, like it’s closing in on us.
—
We finally arrive at the cabin, nestled deep in the woods, its weathered wood blending seamlessly with the surrounding trees. The place hasn't changed much since the last time I was here—a relic from another time, filled with the echoes of our past. I can still see Leah running around the porch, her laughter ringing out into the forest.
Dad parks the truck, and we step out into the crisp air. The smell of pine and damp earth fills my nostrils. We start unloading our gear, the tension between us palpable.
“Let’s get this inside,” Dad says, his voice gruff as he hefts a duffel bag onto his shoulder.
I nod, grabbing my own bag and following him to the cabin. Inside, it’s a mix of old and new—the same rustic furniture, but with new hunting gear and maps strewn across the table. Dad’s obsession is evident in every corner of the room, a constant reminder of why we’re here.
As we unpack, we exchange strained attempts at normalcy. He talks about the latest cryptid sightings he’s read about, his eyes lighting up with a fervor that both worries and saddens me.
“Did you hear about the sighting up near Alpena?” he asks, laying out his maps on the table.
“Yeah, you mentioned it,” I reply, trying to muster some enthusiasm. “Do you really think there’s something to it?”
Dad’s eyes meet mine, and for a moment, I see a flicker of doubt. But it’s quickly replaced by grim determination. “I have to believe it, Ryan. It’s the only thing that makes sense.”
We finish unpacking, the silence between us growing heavier with each passing minute. I step outside to clear my head, the cool air a welcome relief. The sun is starting to set, casting long shadows across the clearing. I can’t shake the feeling of unease.
"You can take the upstairs room," Dad mutters. His voice is strained, trying to sound normal, but it's clear the weight of the past is heavy on him. I nod, hauling my backpack up the creaking stairs to the small bedroom that I used to share with Leah. The room feels smaller now, or maybe I've just grown too much since those innocent days.
I unpack silently, setting my things aside. The bed is stiff and cold under my touch. As I settle in, I can't help but glance at the corner where Leah and I would huddle together, whispering secrets and making plans for adventures that would never happen. I push the thoughts away, focusing on the practicalities of unpacking.
After settling in, I go back downstairs to find Dad loading up a backpack with supplies for our hunt. The intensity in his eyes is palpable, his hands moving with practiced precision. I know this routine; it's one he's perfected over countless solo trips since that fateful day.
"We'll head out early," he says, not looking up from his task. "Gotta make the most of the daylight."
I nod, though unease curls in my stomach. I'm not just worried about what we might find—or not find—out there. I'm worried about him. Each year, the obsession seems to carve him out a bit more, leaving less of the Dad I knew.
—
The morning air is sharp with the scent of pine and wet earth as Dad and I head into the deeper parts of the forest. The terrain is rugged, familiar in its untamed beauty, but there’s a tension between us that makes the landscape feel alien. Dad moves with a purposeful stride, his eyes scanning the woods around us. Every snap of a twig, every rustle in the underbrush seems to draw his attention. He’s on edge, and it puts me on edge too.
As we walk, my mind drifts back to that day ten years ago. I can almost hear Leah’s voice echoing through the trees, her high-pitched call as she darted ahead, "Catch me, Ryan!" I remember how the sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting dancing shadows on the ground. Those memories are so vivid, so tangible, it feels like I could just turn a corner and see her there, waiting for us.
Dad suddenly stops and kneels, examining the ground. He points out a set of tracks that are too large for a deer, with an unusual gait pattern. "It’s been here, Ry. I’m telling you, it’s close," he whispers, a mixture of excitement and something darker in his voice. I nod, though I’m not sure what to believe. Part of me wants to dismiss it all as grief-fueled obsession, but another part, the part that heard Leah's scream and saw something monstrous in the woods that day, isn’t so sure.
As we continue, Dad's comments become increasingly cryptic. "You know, they say the dogman moves in cycles, drawn to certain places, certain times. Like it’s tied to the land itself," he muses, more to himself than to me. His fixation on the creature has always been intense, but now it borders on mania.
We set up a makeshift blind near a clearing where Dad insists the creature will pass. Hours drag by with little to see but the occasional bird or distant deer.
The sun rises higher in the sky, casting long, slender shadows through the dense canopy. I shift uncomfortably in my spot, the forest floor hard and unyielding beneath me. My eyes dart between the trees, hoping to catch a glimpse of something, anything, to break the monotony. Dad, on the other hand, remains steadfast, his gaze fixed on the treeline as if he can will the dogman into existence by sheer force of will.
A bird chirps nearby, startling me. I sigh and adjust my grip on the rifle. I glance over at Dad.
“Anything?” I ask, more out of boredom than genuine curiosity.
“Not yet,” he replies, his voice tight. “But it’s out there. I know it.”
I nod, even though I’m not sure I believe him. The forest seems too quiet, too still. Maybe we’re chasing ghosts.
As the sun begins its descent, the forest is bathed in a warm, golden light. The air cools, and a breeze rustles the leaves. I shiver, more from anticipation than the cold. The long hours of sitting and waiting are starting to wear on me.
“Let’s call it a day for now,” Dad says finally, his voice heavy with disappointment. “We’ll head back to the cabin, get some rest, and try again tomorrow.”
I stand and stretch, feeling the stiffness in my muscles. We pack up our gear in silence and start the trek back to the cabin. The walk is long and quiet, the only sounds are the crunch of leaves underfoot and the distant calls of birds settling in for the night.
—
Dinner is a quiet affair, both of us lost in our thoughts. I try to make small talk, asking Dad about his plans for tomorrow, but it feels forced. We clean up in silence.
After dinner, I retreat to the small bedroom. The fatigue from the day's hike has settled into my bones, but sleep still feels like a distant hope. I lie down, staring at the ceiling, the room cloaked in darkness save for the sliver of moonlight creeping through the window. Downstairs, I hear the faint sound of Dad moving around, likely unable to sleep himself.
I drift into sleep, but it's not restful. My dreams pull me back to that fateful day in the woods. Leah's voice is clear and vibrant, her laughter echoing through the trees. She looks just as she did then—bright-eyed and full of life, her blonde hair catching the sunlight as she runs ahead of me.
"Come on, Ry! You can't catch me!" she taunts, her voice playful and teasing.
I chase after her, but the scene shifts abruptly. The sky darkens, the woods around us growing dense and foreboding. Leah's laughter fades, replaced by a chilling silence. I see her ahead, standing still, her back to me.
"Leah?" I call out, my voice trembling. She turns slowly, her eyes wide and filled with fear. "Ryan, you have to remember," she says, her voice barely a whisper. "It wasn't what you think. You need to know the truth."
Leah’s words hang in the air, cryptic and unsettling. Before I can respond, she turns and starts running again, her figure becoming a blur among the trees. Panic rises in my chest as I sprint after her, my feet pounding against the forest floor.
“Leah, wait!” I shout, desperation lacing my voice. The forest around me seems to close in, the trees towering and twisted, shadows dancing menacingly in the dim light. I push forward, trying to keep her in sight, but she’s too fast, slipping away like a wisp of smoke.
Suddenly, there’s a rustle, a flash of movement in the corner of my vision. Leah screams, a sound that pierces through the heavy silence. It happens too quickly—I can’t see what it is, only a dark blur that snatches her up.
“Leah!” I scream, my voice breaking. I stumble, falling to my knees as the forest spins around me. My heart races, and the terror is so real, so visceral, that it pulls me back to that awful day, the one that changed everything.
I jolt awake, my breath coming in ragged gasps.
I sit up, wiping the cold sweat from my forehead as I try to steady my breathing. The room is still dark, the shadows cast by the moonlight seem to flicker and dance on the walls. My heart is still racing from the nightmare, the echo of Leah's scream lingering in my ears.
As I struggle to calm down, the floorboards outside my room creak. The door opens slowly, and I see the silhouette of my dad in the doorway, a Bowie knife in his hand, his posture tense.
“Dad, what the hell are you doing?” I whisper, my voice shaking.
“Shh,” he hisses, holding up a hand to silence me. “I heard something. Something moving around in the cabin. Stay quiet.”
I swallow hard, my mouth dry. I glance at the clock on the nightstand—it’s just past three in the morning. The cabin is silent, the kind of deep, oppressive silence that makes every small sound seem louder. I can’t hear anything out of the ordinary, but Dad’s expression is deadly serious.
He motions for me to get up, and I do, moving as quietly as I can. My heart is racing, a mix of lingering fear from the dream and the sudden, sharp anxiety of the present moment. Dad leads the way, stepping cautiously out of the bedroom and into the hallway, the knife held ready in front of him.
We move through the cabin, checking each room in turn. The living room is empty, the furniture casting long shadows in the dim moonlight. The kitchen is just as we left it, the plates from dinner still drying on the counter. Everything seems normal, untouched.
We finish our sweep of the cabin without finding anything amiss. The silence is heavy, punctuated only by our soft footfalls. I can see the tension in Dad’s frame, his grip on the knife unwavering. After checking the last room, we pause in the dimly lit hallway, the air thick with unspoken questions.
“There’s nothing here,” I say, my voice low. “Are you sure you heard something?”
He looks at me, his eyes searching for something in my face. “I heard growling. Deep and close. It was right outside the window.”
“Maybe it was just an animal outside, a raccoon or something?” I suggest, although the certainty in his voice makes me doubt my own reassurance.
“No, it wasn’t like that. It was different,” he insists, his voice tense.
I nod, not wanting to argue, but the seeds of worry are planted deep.
The look in his eyes sends a chill down my spine. It’s not just fear—it’s desperation. The kind of desperation that comes from years of chasing shadows and finding nothing. I can see the toll this hunt has taken on him, the way it’s worn him down, turned him into a man I barely recognize.
We head back to our rooms. As I lie down, my mind races with thoughts of my dad. I can’t help but wonder if he’s losing it, if the years of grief and guilt have finally pushed him over the edge.
Dad wasn’t always like this. Before Leah’s death, he was the kind of father who took us fishing, helped with homework, and told terrible jokes that made us groan and laugh at the same time. He was solid, dependable. But losing Leah changed him. The guilt twisted him into someone I barely recognize, someone driven by a need for answers, for closure, that may never come.
I try to sleep, but my thoughts keep me awake. I can hear Dad moving around downstairs, probably pacing or double-checking the locks. His paranoia has become a constant presence, and I don’t know how to help him. I don’t even know if I can help him.
—
The next morning, the sunlight filters weakly through the cabin windows, casting a pale light that does little to lift the heavy mood. I drag myself out of bed, feeling the exhaustion of another restless night. Dad is already up, hunched over his maps at the kitchen table, his eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep.
“Morning,” I mumble, rubbing the sleep from my eyes as I pour myself a cup of coffee. “Did you sleep at all?”
He shakes his head, not looking up from his notes. “Not much. I couldn’t stop thinking about what I heard last night.”
I sip my coffee, trying to shake off the remnants of my nightmare. “Maybe it was just an animal, Dad. We’re deep in the woods, after all.”
He finally looks up, his eyes intense. “Ryan, I know what I heard. It wasn’t just an animal. It was something else.”
I sigh, not wanting to argue. “Okay, fine, Dad. What’s the plan for today?”
“We’re going back out. I found some tracks yesterday, and I want to follow them. See where they lead.”
I nod, feeling a mix of apprehension and resignation. I can see how much this means to him, how desperate he is for any kind of lead. “Alright. Let’s get packed and head out.”
We spend the morning preparing, loading up our gear and double-checking our supplies. Dad is meticulous, going over everything with a fine-toothed comb. I try to match his focus, but my mind keeps drifting back to Leah and the dream I had. Her words echo in my head, cryptic and unsettling: “You need to know the truth.”
We set off into the woods, the air crisp and cool. The forest is alive with the sounds of birds and rustling leaves, but it all feels distant, like background noise to the tension between us. Dad leads the way, his eyes scanning the ground for any sign of the tracks he found yesterday.
As we walk, I can’t help but notice how erratically he’s acting. He mutters to himself, his eyes darting around as if expecting something to jump out at us. His grip on his rifle is tight, his knuckles white.
“Dad, are you okay?” I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.
He glances at me, his expression unreadable. “I’m fine. Just focused.”
He stops frequently to examine the ground or the bark of trees, pointing out marks and signs that seem meaningless to me.
“Look at this,” he says, crouching down to examine a broken branch. “See how it’s snapped? That’s not a deer or a bear. That’s something bigger. Stronger.”
I crouch next to Dad, squinting at the broken branch. To me, it just looks like a regular broken branch, the kind you see all over the forest. "I don't know, Dad. It just looks like a branch to me," I say, trying to keep my voice neutral.
Dad's eyes flicker with frustration. "You're not looking close enough. It's the way it's snapped—too clean, too deliberate. Something did this."
I nod, not wanting to argue. "Okay, sure. But even if you're right, it could be anything. A storm, another hunter..."
His expression hardens. "I know what I'm looking for. This is different."
I sigh, feeling the weight of the past and the tension between us pressing down on me. "Dad, I had a dream last night. About Leah." The words hang in the air between us, heavy and fraught with unspoken emotions.
Dad's eyes widen, and he straightens up, his entire demeanor shifting. "What kind of dream? What did you see?" His voice is urgent, almost desperate.
"It was... strange. We were in the woods, like we are now, but everything felt different. Leah was there, running ahead of me, laughing. Then she stopped and told me I needed to know the truth, that it wasn't what I thought."
Dad grabs my shoulders, his grip tight. "What else did she say? Did she tell you anything specific? Anything about the creature?"
I shake my head, feeling a chill run down my spine. "No, that was it. She just said I needed to know the truth, and then she was gone."
Dad’s grip on my shoulders tightens, and his eyes bore into mine with a mixture of desperation and hope. “Ryan, you have to try to remember. Think hard. What did the creature look like? Did you see anything else?”
I pull back slightly, uneasy with his intensity. “Dad, I told you. I don’t remember. It was just a dream. A nightmare, really. My mind’s probably just mixing things up.”
He lets go of me and runs a hand through his hair, looking frustrated and lost. “Dreams can be important. They can hold memories we’ve buried deep. Please, try to remember. This could be a sign, a clue.”
I rub my temples, feeling the beginnings of a headache. “I’ve tried, okay? I’ve tried for years to piece together what happened that day. But it’s all just fragments, like pieces of a puzzle that don’t fit. The dream… it felt real, but I don’t think it’s telling me anything new.”
Dad’s face falls, and he looks older than I’ve ever seen him. He turns away, staring into the forest as if it holds all the answers.
—
As we make our way back to the cabin, the sun begins to set, casting long shadows through the trees. The air grows colder, and I shiver, pulling my jacket tighter around me. Dad is silent, lost in his thoughts, his face drawn and haggard.
Back at the cabin, we unload our gear once again in silence. Dad disappears into his room, muttering something about going over his notes. I decide to explore the cabin, hoping to find something that might help me understand what’s going on with him.
In the attic, I find a box of old family photos and documents. As I sift through the contents, I come across a worn journal with Dad’s handwriting on the cover. Curiosity gets the better of me, and I open it, flipping through the pages.
The journal is filled with notes and sketches, detailing his obsession with the dogman. But there’s something else—entries that talk about Leah, about that day in the woods. His handwriting becomes more erratic, the words harder to read. One entry stands out, dated just a few days after Leah’s death:
“June 15, 2013 – It was supposed to be a normal trip. Keep them close, Frank, I kept telling myself. But I failed. Leah is gone, and it’s my fault. I heard her scream, saw the shadows. I tried to get to her, but… the thing, it was there. Too fast. Too strong. My hands… blood everywhere. No one will believe me. I can’t even believe myself. I have to find it. I have to protect Ryan. I have to make it right. God, what have I done?”
Before I can read further, the attic door creaks open, and Dad’s voice slices through the stillness.
“What are you doing up here?” His tone is sharp, almost panicked.
I turn to see him standing in the doorway, his face pale and his eyes wide with something between anger and fear. I clutch the journal to my chest, my mind racing. “I found this… I was just trying to understand…”
In an instant, he crosses the room and snatches the journal from my hands. His grip is tight, his knuckles white. “You had no right,” he growls, his voice trembling.
“Dad, I just wanted to know the truth!” I shout, frustration boiling over. “What really happened to Leah.”
His eyes flash with a mix of rage and anguish, and before I can react, he slaps me across the face. The force of it knocks me off balance, and I stumble backward, my cheek stinging.
For a moment, there’s a stunned silence. We both stand there, breathing hard, the air thick with tension.
“I’m sorry,” Dad says finally, his voice barely a whisper. “I didn’t mean to… I just…” He trails off, clutching the journal to his chest like a lifeline.
I touch my cheek, feeling the heat from the slap, and take a deep breath, trying to steady myself. “Dad, what aren’t you telling me? What really happened that day?”
“Stay out of it, Ryan,” Dad growls, his eyes dark with anger. “You don’t know what you’re messing with.”
He turns and storms out of the attic. I’m left standing there, my cheek throbbing, my mind racing. What the fuck is going on? What really happened to Leah? And what is Dad so afraid of?
—
That night, I sleep with my rifle within arm's reach, more afraid of my dad than any dogman. The slap still burns on my cheek, and the look in his eyes—rage, fear, something darker—haunts me. I lie awake, listening to the creaks and groans of the old cabin, every sound amplified in the stillness. Eventually, exhaustion pulls me under, and I fall into a restless sleep.
The dream returns, vivid and unsettling. I'm back in the woods, chasing after Leah. Her laughter echoes through the trees, a haunting reminder of happier times. This time, though, I push myself harder, refusing to let her slip away.
"Ryan, catch me!" she calls, her voice playful.
"I'm coming, Leah!" I shout, my legs pumping, my breath coming in ragged gasps.
The forest around us is a twisted, shadowy maze, the trees seeming to close in on us. Leah's figure becomes clearer, her blonde hair catching the dim light filtering through the canopy. She stops suddenly, turning to face me, her eyes wide with fear.
"Leah, what is it?" I ask, my voice trembling.
"Look behind you," she whispers, her voice barely audible.
I turn slowly, dread creeping up my spine. In the shadows, I see a figure, its form indistinct and shifting. It’s not quite animal, not quite human—something in between. The sight of it sends a jolt of terror through me, and I wake up with a start, my breath coming in ragged gasps.
I’m not in my bed. The ground beneath me is cold and hard, the smell of damp earth filling my nostrils. Panic rises as I realize I’ve sleepwalked into the woods. I scramble to my feet, my eyes adjusting to the dim light. The moon casts a pale glow over the surroundings, revealing what looks like a long-abandoned animal lair.
The walls are covered in giant claw marks, deep gouges in the wood and earth. The air is heavy with the scent of decay, and a chill runs through me. I can’t shake the feeling that I’m being watched.
Carefully, I start to move, my eyes scanning the ground, desperate for a familiar landmark. That's when I see them—faded scraps of fabric caught on the jagged edges of the underbrush. My steps falter, a sense of dread washing over me as I bend down to examine them. The fabric is torn, weathered by time and the elements, but unmistakably familiar. It's part of Leah's jacket—the bright pink one she wore on the day she disappeared.
As I strain to make sense of it all, a rustling sound behind me snaps my focus. My heart leaps into my throat. I spin around, my hand instinctively reaching for the rifle I don't have—because, of course, I didn't bring it in my unconscious state.
The shadowy figure that emerges from the trees is unsettlingly familiar, mirroring the menacing forms of my nightmares. But as it steps into the moonlight, I recognize the worn jacket, the weary posture. It's Dad.
"Ryan!" he calls out, his voice a mix of relief and stern concern. "I've been looking everywhere for you. What the hell are you doing out here?"
I exhale slowly, the terror ebbing away as reality sets back in. "I—I don't know, Dad. I must've sleepwalked again." My voice is shaky, my earlier dream still clinging to the edges of my consciousness.
Dad stares at me in disbelief. "You haven't sleepwalked since you were a kid, Ry. This... this isn't just a coincidence." His eyes dart around, taking in the surroundings—the eerie, claw-marked den, the unsettling quiet of the woods. "How did you even find this place?"
I shake my head, struggling to find an answer. "I don't know, Dad. I just... I woke up here." The uncertainty in my voice does nothing to ease the tension.
His eyes lock onto the tattered remains of Leah's jacket in my hands, and something inside him snaps. The color drains from his face as he stumbles a few steps backward. "This... this is where it happened," he murmurs, his voice barely a whisper. “This is where we found Leah."
“I thought you said you don’t remember anything from that night,” he says accusingly.
"I swear, Dad, I don't know anything about this place," I insist, my own heart pounding.
“It was you, wasn’t it? You’ve been hiding this from me.” His voice is frantic. “You... last night, the growling, it was you.” His voice rises, tinged with hysteria.
I step back, my pulse racing, feeling the chill of the night and the weight of his accusation. "Dad, I don't know what you're talking ab—”
"No!" he interrupts, his voice breaking as he points a trembling finger at me. "You knew, you always knew. It was you, Ryan. All these years, the evidence was right there, but I refused to see it. You were the dogman. You killed Leah!"
His words hit me like a physical blow, absurd and horrifying in their implications. "Dad, you're not making any sense. You're talking crazy! I was just a little kid! How could I–" I protest, my voice shaky.
He steps closer, his presence looming over me, the outline of his figure distorted by the shadows of the trees. "Think about it! It all makes sense now. You led us here, to this place, because you remember. Because you did it."
"Dad, stop it!" I shout, my heart pounding in my chest. "You're scaring me. You need help, professional help. This isn't you."
But he's beyond reason, his eyes wild with a haunted grief. "I have to end this," he mutters, more to himself than to me, his hand tightening around his rifle.
His finger hovers dangerously over the trigger of his rifle. My instincts kick in, and I know I have to act fast.
I lunge toward him, trying to knock the weapon away, but he's quicker than I expected. We struggle, our breaths heavy in the cold night air, the sounds of our scuffle the only noise in the otherwise silent woods. His strength surprises me, fueled by his frantic emotions. He shoves me back, and I stumble over a root, my balance lost for a crucial second. That's all he needs. He raises his rifle, his intentions clear in his wild, pained eyes.
I dive to the ground just as the shot rings out, a deafening blast that echoes ominously through the trees. The bullet whizzes past, narrowly missing me, embedding itself in the bark of an old pine. I scramble to my feet, my heart pounding in my ears, and I start running. The underbrush claws at my clothes and skin, but I push through, driven by a primal urge to survive.
"Dad, stop! It's me, Ryan!" I shout back as I dodge between the trees. Another shot breaks the silence, closer this time, sending splinters of wood flying from a nearby tree trunk. It's surreal, being hunted by my own father, a man tormented by grief and lost in his delusions.
I don't stop to look back. I can hear him crashing through the forest behind me, his heavy breaths and muttered curses carried on the wind. The terrain is rough, and I'm fueled by adrenaline, but exhaustion is setting in. I need a plan.
Ahead, I see a rocky outcrop and make a split-second decision to head for it. It offers a chance to hide, to catch my breath and maybe reason with him if he catches up. As I reach the rocks, I slip behind the largest one, my body pressed tight against the cold, damp surface. I hear his footsteps approaching, slow and cautious now.
As I press against the rock, trying to calm my racing heart, I can hear Dad's footsteps drawing closer, each step crunching ominously on the forest floor. He's methodical, deliberate, like a hunter stalking his prey.
“Come out, Ryan!” Dad’s voice is ragged, filled with a blend of fury and pain.
My heart pounds against my chest, the cold sweat on my back making me shiver against the rough surface of the rock. I know I can't just sit here; it's only a matter of time before he finds me.
Taking a deep breath, I peek around the edge of the rock, trying to gauge his position. I see him, rifle raised, scanning the area slowly. This might be my only chance to end this madness without further violence. I need to disarm him, to talk some sense into him if I can.
As quietly as I can, I move out from behind the rock, my steps careful to avoid any twigs or leaves that might betray my position. I'm almost upon him when a branch snaps under my foot—a sound so trivial yet so alarmingly loud in the quiet of the woods.
Dad whirls around, looking completely unhinged. "Ryan!" he exclaims, his rifle swinging in my direction. Panic overtakes me, and I lunge forward, my hands reaching for the gun.
We struggle, the rifle between us, our breaths heavy and erratic. "Dad, please, stop!" I plead, trying to wrestle the gun away. But he's strong, stronger than I expected.
In the chaos, the rifle goes off. The sound is deafening, a sharp echo that seems to reverberate off every tree around us. Pain explodes in my abdomen, sharp and burning, like nothing I've ever felt before. I stagger back, my hands instinctively going to the wound. The warmth of my own blood coats my fingers, stark and terrifying.
Dad drops the rifle, his eyes wide with horror. "Oh my God! What have I done?" he gasps, rushing to my side as I collapse onto the forest floor.
As the pain sears through me, a strange, overpowering energy surges within. It's wild, primal, unlike anything I've ever experienced. Looking down in horror, my hands are no longer hands but large, hairy, clawed appendages. The transformation is rapid, consuming—my vision blurs, senses heighten, and a raw, guttural growl builds in my throat.
In that moment, a flood of understanding washes over me, mingling with the horror of realization. These are the hands of the creature from my nightmares, the creature whose face I can never fully recall because, as I now understand, it is me.
What happens next feels detached, as if I'm no longer in control of my own actions, watching from a distance as my body moves on its own. I turn towards my dad, his face a mask of terror. He stumbles back, his eyes wide with the dawning realization of what his son has become.
The forest around us seems to fall silent, holding its breath as the nightmarish scene unfolds. I can hear my own growls, guttural and deep, filling the air with a sound that's both foreign and intimately familiar. The pain in my abdomen fuels a dark, violent urge, an urge that's too strong to resist.
With a ferocity that feels both alien and intrinsic, I move towards him. My dad, paralyzed by fear and shock, doesn't run. Maybe he can't. Maybe he doesn't want to.
The encounter was brutal and swift, a blur of motion and violence. My dad barely puts up a struggle, as though resigned to his fate.
Not that there is anything he can do. The creature that I’ve become is too powerful, too consumed by the wild instincts surging through me. I tear him apart, limb from bloody limb, my hands—no, my claws—rending through fabric and flesh with disgusting ease.
The sound of my dad’s screams, of tearing fabric and flesh is drowned out by the animalistic growls that echo through the trees.
When it’s all over, the red mist that had clouded my vision begins to fade, and the fierce, uncontrollable rage that drove my actions subsides. I'm left standing, my breaths heavy and erratic, in the eerie stillness of the forest. The transformation reverses as quickly as it came on, and I find myself back in my human form. My clothes are ripped to shreds, hanging off my frame in tattered remnants. At my feet lies what’s left of my dad, his body torn and unrecognizable.
I glance down at my abdomen, expecting agony, but instead find my wound miraculously healed. No sign of the gunshot remains, just a faint scar where I expected a bloody mess.
Shock sets in, a numbing disbelief mixed with a gut-wrenching realization of what I've become and what I've done. My hands, now human again, tremble as I look at them, half-expecting to see the claws that had so effortlessly ripped through flesh and bone. But there's only blood, my father's blood against my skin.
I stand there for what feels like an eternity, trapped in a nightmare of my own making.
Eventually, the shock wears thin, and a cold practicality takes hold. I need to get out of here. I need to cover my tracks, to disappear. Because who would believe this? Who would understand that I didn't choose this, that I'm not a monster by choice?
With trembling hands, I do what’s necessary. I bury my dad in a shallow grave, the physical act of digging strangely grounding. I cover him with leaves and branches, a pitiful attempt to hide the brutality of his end. I take a moment, whispering apologies into the wind, knowing full well that nothing I say can change what happened.
I leave the forest behind, my mind a whirl of dark thoughts. As I walk, the first hints of dawn brush against the horizon, the sky bleeding a soft pink. It’s hauntingly beautiful.