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We’re here already, into another year!
From everyone at the Furry Writers Guild, we wish you all the very best 2023 can bring. We hope your goals for the year are achievable, and that you can make good progress towards them. And, never forget, that a goal can simply be to continue as you are now. Don’t feel the pressure to set a lofty target just to seem like you’re setting something. Be realistic with everything, and that includes your mental wellbeing!

This won’t be a very in-depth newsletter, as I’m writing it a few weeks early because I’ll be in the UK until mid January, but we do have one very important piece of news to share!
As of late 2022, the Furry Writers Guild is now officially a non-profit organisation!
This has the potential to open up a lot of exciting new avenues for the guild in terms of fundraising and helping to develop the furry writing community. The trial run of the furry book month novel bundle was just the first part of this, and you can expect to see so much more coming in the next few months. If all goes well, you should see the first of this by the next newsletter in February!
In many ways, my 18 or so months as president of the guild feels like it has been waiting for this moment. I am so excited to bring my plans to fruition, and I hope you all will be as well!

Until those exciting times come forward, it’s time to check out the current anthology calls that are open. This includes a new one from FurPlanet, so please do check them out to see if the calls take your fancy.

Reclamation Project: Year Two – Deadline March 1st
This Is Halloween – Deadline When Full
Furry Femdom Erotica – Deadline When Full
F/F No Erotic Anthology – Deadline When Full
Isekai Me! – Deadline When Full
Children Of The Night – Deadline When Full
Furry/Lovecraftian/Erotic/University Themed Anthology – Deadline When Full
#ohmurr! – Deadline: Ongoing
Zooscape – Reoccurring submission windows.

There are also a number of books recently released or coming soon from our members. Please consider bringing in the new year with some fantastic fiction from our community.

The Way To The Lonely Valley, by Frank LeRenard. Released November 2nd.

Return From Divalia, by Kyell Gold. Released December 1st.

When The World Was Young, edited by Madison Scott-Clary. Featuring stories from multiple FWG members. Released December 1st.

Winter of Wonder: Fauna. Featuring stories by R.A. Meenan and J.F.R. Coates. Released December 21st.

Human By Birth, Dragon By Blood, by Stephan Coghlan. Released January 24th 2023.

Don’t Ask Me If I’m Okay, by Jessica Kara (Jess E. Owen). Available for pre-order. Released May 16th 2023.

May the start of 2023 be the beginning of an exciting time for you all. I know it certainly is for the Furry Writers Guild.

Stay safe, and happy writing.
J.F.R. Coates

MOOBARKFLUFF! Click here to send us a comment or message about the show!

Moobarkfluff!  Taebyn is off this week so Rayne Raccoon sits in for the pup.  We chat about the regular things, and we each tell a story.  Tune in for some casual fun with Bearly and Rayne. Moobarkfluff!

 

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Support the show

Thanks to all our listeners and to our staff: Bearly Normal, Rayne Raccoon, Taebyn, Cheetaro, TickTock, and Ziggy the Meme Weasel.

You can send us a message on Telegram at BFFT Chat, or via email at: bearlyfurcasting@gmail.com

Bearly Furcasting S3E36 - Guest Co-Host Rayne Raccoon

This is a bit complex, so we’ll let Animation World Network explain it: “Nickelodeon has released a handful of first look images for Bossy Bear, the new animated preschool series from husband-and-wife team David Horvath and Sun-Min Kim (UglyDolls, Tea Time Cats), based on the Korean / U.S. pop culture blend book series by Horvath. The series follows the misadventures of unlikely besties Bossy Bear (an overly enthusiastic extrovert) and Turtle (a thoughtful introvert) in their Koreatown-inspired city of Pleasantburg.” Look for the show on Nickelodeon and Nick Jr. in 2023. [And have a happy and safe New Year’s Eve!]

image c. 2022 Nickelodeon

Dear Papabear,

I am in my mid-twenties. How can I gain confidence? I doubt myself a lot and always fear the worst like failing. That I'll fail everything that I'll do. I've been noticing that I have ADHD-like symptoms for 4 years. I don't even have a driver's license. Fearing that the worst will happen due to these symptoms, it makes other things hard too. Many people have told me to believe in myself. What can I do?

Francesca

* * *

Dear Francesca,

"Believe in yourself" is easier to say than to do. It's a cop-out phrase used by friends and family who don't know how to help you. Well-intentioned, but useless. So, okay, you should believe in yourself, of course, but you can't just snap your fingers and, to quote Captain Picard, make it so. How to proceed?

There are several factors involved that cause us to doubt ourselves:

1. As children, we grow up wanting to please our parents and get their approval. These are the people who nurtured us in infancy and on whom we depended for protection, so this is a natural instinct. So many people grow up with daddy or mommy issues that it is ridiculous. This feeling can linger even after parents die, and it can also be transferred to others whom we respect, admire, or who have power over us, such as teachers, bosses, or spouses. Don't be a people pleaser.
2. Our inherent and instinctive need to fit into our society, to conform, and to meet its expectations also causes us to pursue goals that we feel are socially approved in order to be a valued member of the group. This is why, for example, people conform to a religious institution in which they were raised, or become bigots, or chant at a political rally, or pursue a career they don't actually enjoy. Don't be a conformist.
3. We are raised to believe this is a competitive world and we always have to do better than other people. Don't worry about other people; do things for your own fulfillment.
4. We are criticized for our appearance if we don't meet the standards for what is considered attractive. You're beautiful as you are. Don't worry about shallow standards.

The first thing you need to do is rid yourself of the burden of meeting other people's expectations of what is "success" and what is "failure." If you think that "success" is making lots of money and having lots of material possessions, for example, then you can often feel like a failure if you don't make money and buy expensive things. But, if you feel that "success" is being a kind, giving, and GOOD person who pursues their own dreams, you might find yourself becoming a success very quickly.

Next point: Don't avoid failure, embrace it. EVERYONE fails at least some of the time. I have experienced many failures myself. Hey, even people like Albert Einstein, Walt Disney, and Bill Gates have experienced failures. Failures are not as bad as they sound because they are learning experiences. For example, one time I tried to apply to a university's creative writing program. I submitted fiction samples to them and was roundly rejected. Reexamining what I sent, I realized that my writing was pretentious crap. I learned from that and am a much better writer now. Another example: my novel (only wrote one so far) was rejected 100 times before a publisher accepted it. (Oh, and in the process, I discovered I am a very good nonfiction writer). Just keep trying. Hey, Margaret Mitchell's Gone with the Wind was rejected 40 times. Stephen King's early work was rejected hundreds of times before he published Carrie.

Failure is a learning experience. Do not fear it. Expect it and learn from it. Same with rejection. You WILL experience rejection many times before you find acceptance. Once you get rid of the fears of failure and rejection, you can move forward. You do that by substituting expectation for anticipation. Anticipation is much more anxiety-inducing than expectation.

In summary, to build self-confidence you must:

• Reject other people's definitions of success
• Define your own goals for success independent of society's "norms"
• Embrace failures as learning experiences
• Keep going, no matter what

I hope that helps.

Hugs,
Papabear

Somehow we missed The Boy, The Mole, The Fox, and the Horse when it was an illustrated book sensation three years ago. But now it’s been made into a new 2D-animated film, directed by the book’s author Charlie Mackesy with the help of animator Peter Baynton (The Tiger Who Came To Tea). “The Boy, the Mole, the Fox and the Horse features traditional hand-drawn animation to tell a heartwarming tale of the unlikely friendship between the title characters as they journey in search of the boy’s home. Yet, as simple as the story is, the film, like the book, contains deep and profound insights into the things that matter most in life, offering a sorely needed message of hope in a troubled time.” Animation World Network has a detailed article about the film, which premiered on Apple TV+ at Christmas. Interesting to note: Idris Elba, Chief Bogo himself, voices the Fox.

image c. 2022 Apple Original Films

FABP E2 Kofu Snippet 1 ---- Throwback! Two years ago, we interviewed @kofukitty and asked him about his experience in the Taiwanese and American furry fandoms. Check out our episode 2 to hear more! FABP E2: https://youtu.be/5lUg3_tqykU ---- #shorts #snippet

Swinging things back to the realm of “real-world animals” we have Do Not Pet: How To Become A Service Dog, a new one-shot comic from writer Joe Biel and illustrator Gerta Oparaku. “Ruby, a service dog who gave author Joe Biel mobility, health, and companionship through the most difficult years of their life, had many things to learn during her humble beginnings. This comic details the process for training a medical alert service dog, as well as other types of service dogs, the responsibility of their handlers for these lessons, and how these incredible dogs learn their skills.” This full-color comic is available now from Microcosm Publishing, and they have a preview too.

image c. 2022 Microcosm Publishing

Description: 2022 Wrap Up! Life Abroad and the Future of the Pod [FABP E27] ---- So we’re finally here. The end of 2022. As of this writing, we have 258 subs and over 11 K views on YouTube and 172 followers on Twitter. We’ve seen real and steady growth of this project ever since its inception in December 2020. And neither of us plan on stopping anytime soon. In this episode, Burger and I talked about updates in our lives, cons we’ve been to this year, and the future of the podcast. We hope you guys will enjoy the last FABP episode of 2022. Merry Christmas and happy New Year! ---- Timestamps: 00:00 Teaser 00:27 Intro 01:15 Reflecting on 2 years of podcasting 03:59 Podcast states 05:09 Burger’s updates 12:17 Michael’s updates 18:47 Furcon report: Kaohsiung Tea Party 23:40 Furcon report: FurMiT 26:55 Furcon report: Infurnity 39:36 Burger's favorite podcast moment in 2022 43:22 Michael's favorite podcast moment in 2022 47:32 Future plans and changes 53:32 Thank you guys!!! 55:38 Social Media Shoutout 57:45 Outro ---- Social Media: Our official Twitter: https://twitter.com/foxandburger Michael: https://twitter.com/foxnakh https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCK9xoFQrxFTNPMjmXfUg2cg Burger: https://twitter.com/L1ghtningRunnerhttp://www.youtube.com/c/LightningRunner ---- Footage Credit: Other pictures and video provided by Pixabay and hosts' personal footage. Intro/Outro Music: Aioli by Andrew Langdon. ---- The Fox and Burger Podcast is one segment of our production house, Fox and Burger Productions. The podcast’s goal is twofold: 1, to know more about the Asian furry fandom; and 2, compare and contrast the Asian fandom with the Western one. If you have a guest that you would like to see on the show, please PM us! We will also take questions for our guests, so don’t miss this opportunity to know some amazing furs.

　　由PCD疊加小組所主辦的第二屆Furmily 獸迷力—夕陽的厚禮，於2022年12月17日，在新竹老爺酒店四樓會議廳舉辦。本次活動是主辦方首次與飯店業者合作，並且比第一屆起來，開放參與人數上限至150位，讓沒能參加到第一屆的獸迷們可以有機會參與。

　　本屆除了邀請人氣毛毛丹波做開場表演外，也安排山羊騎士為主講的講座、交換禮物、名片交流與祈願卡等，讓參加者可以輕鬆與他人互動。相較於獸無限、以茶會毛等大型活動，獸迷力以「家」為核心，同時保持著「悠閒交友、敘舊，以及可以輕鬆上手體驗的活動」的性質，不希望參加者要一直趕場跑眾多講座和活動，也讓許多參加者表示獸迷力的活動規劃上讓人放鬆愜意。

活動報到處。圖／藍風

官方活動的宣傳毛毛與開場主持人——薄荷糖。圖／藍風

由丹波進行活動開場。圖／藍風

現場熱情的獸迷與毛毛互動。圖／藍風

活動現場也提供主題攝影棚讓毛毛們可以拍照。圖／藍風

　　根據了解，主辦方本次會選擇以飯店為活動空間，主要是希望能找到讓參加者可以在優閒舒適的環境與高度親切感的氛圍下進行，在諸多挑選後便選擇新竹老爺酒店作為本次的活動場地。至於在2021年因疫情取消的活動與本次場地不同，主辦方表示因為2021年選擇的場地桃園翰品酒店因故不再營業，因此才換至本次的活動場地。

名片交流區可以彼此交流自己獨特的名片。圖／藍風

由山羊騎士主講《用攝影的觀點穿毛》的講座。圖／藍風

現場提供祈願卡讓獸迷們可以寫上自己的心願。圖／藍風

由於活動靠近聖誕節，故舉辦交換禮物活動讓獸迷們來一起同樂送幸福。圖／藍風

　　主辦方表示，本次活動實際到場人數共153人，當中有參加大合照的毛毛總共為69位，登錄參與本次活動的毛毛則高達80位。同時活動方也提供製作毛裝的工作室可以展示在官網上的機會，也提供想要擁有毛裝卻不知道如何開始的獸迷們，一個可以近距離與這些工作者們交流的機會。

本次共有69位毛毛參加大合照。圖／獸迷力官方提供

　　對於本次活動因為考量到活動品質有人數上限，有獸迷對於無法報名參加表示可惜，主辦方表示會再討論後規劃增加參加人數的可能性。在本次閉幕上也預告將在2023年12月辦理第三屆活動，主題為聖光的召喚，歡迎大家來一同共襄盛舉。

Merry Christmas! Recently we stumbled across a new Internet star known as Tito Lizzardo, an animated lizard singer who pals around with a sexy feline dancer named Catty Baby (aka Catty B). Virtual Humans (a site we also just discovered!) has this to say about them: “Tito is a lizard that likes to dress in his school jacket. Catty Baby is a cat that rocks her sporty looks every day. Their TikTok account is exploding with the couple’s dance moves next to the beach and the palm trees in Miami. Tito and Catty are a couple of artists doing remixes of famous Latin songs like ‘Hips Don’t Lie’ or ‘Hey DJ’. Their gang is completed with Juan Gato, Catty’s brother who is always wearing a Miami Heat shirt. All together they create amazing videos of their song remixes, targeting very young audiences with their cute, animalistic appeal.” Tito and crew first appeared in a series of short, at times rather risque dance videos on TikTok. Since then, they’ve released several much-more-family-friendly music videos on their YouTube channel. Who’s behind all this? We don’t know! But we’d love to meet them!

Image c. 2022 Tito Lizzardo

We’ll admit it: We don’t recall this artist. But maybe we should learn more! And now we can, thanks to The Sergio Toppi Gallery: Bestiary. “This collection of artwork from European comics master Sergio Toppi focuses on illustrations of beasts both real and imaginary, presented in Toppi’s inimitable pen-and-ink style. Sergio Toppi’s work has been hailed as an influence by such artistic masters as Sean Gordon Murphy and Walter Simonson.” Magnetic Press has preview pages for this hardcover edition. [And with that, we wish you and yours a Merry Christmas and a Blessed Solstice Season!]

image c. 2022 Magnetic Press

MOOBARKFLUFF! Click here to send us a comment or message about the show!

Moobarkfluff!  Taebyn tells us about why leaves change colors. Bearly give us a lesson in Geopolitics. We make some This or That choices. Bearly reads a new Christmas Story about Aliens. We tell bad jokes….so basically a regular episode! Join us, won't you for some obscure learning and a lot of fun! Moobarkfluff!

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Support the show

Thanks to all our listeners and to our staff: Bearly Normal, Rayne Raccoon, Taebyn, Cheetaro, TickTock, and Ziggy the Meme Weasel.

You can send us a message on Telegram at BFFT Chat, or via email at: bearlyfurcasting@gmail.com

Bearly Furcasting S3E35 - Trees, History, and Mayhem!

The enduring bond of pets and humans is showcased in this new one-shot comic from It’s Alive. “Writer John Holland, along with artist Hernan Gonzalez, delivers a moving love letter to dogs in A Girl and Her Dog. Evie is ‘the girl’ and Max is ‘her dog’. In time-tossed bits and pieces, we see her life from age 15 to 84. Max is there for all the important moments of her life, even after his life has ended. Don’t miss this life-affirming tale, which speaks to the power of love, even in the face of death.” It’s available now in stores.

image c. 2022 It’s Alive

马来西亚兽展 FurUM 成功举行2022年活动

时隔三年，兽迷们在滨海湾金沙参加新加坡动漫展

Another artist we met at MidWest FurFest was Mal Hodgkin. They describe themselves and their work like this: “I like to create work of mostly animals and creatures and make them all the wrong colors! I’m inspired by psychedelic/70’s art, animation, old world illustration, and tattoo design.” You can definitely see those influences on their web site! What’s more, you can take home the results on t-shirts, hats, patches, and other goodies available through their Etsy store.

image c. 2022 by Mal Hodgkin

TigerTails Radio Season 14 Episode 22. Join the Discord Chat: https://discord.gg/SQ5QuRf For a full preview of events and for previous episodes, please visit http://www.tigertailsradio.co.uk. See website for full breakdown of song credits, which is usually updated shortly after the show. If you like what we do and wish to throw some pennies our way to support us, please consider sending a little tip our way. https://streamlabs.com/tigertailsradio/tip * Please note, tips are made to support TigerTails Radio and are assumed as made with good faith, so are therefore non-refundable. Thank you for your support and understanding.

Welcome to Issue 16 of Zooscape!

Pain, survival, and love.  These are cornerstones of life, art, and yes, furry art.  Because furry art and fiction is, at the heart, no different from any other art or fiction.  It’s beauty that humans create to try to reckon and wrestle with the harshness of the universe.  Furry art just happens to dress up in a fancy fur coat with tails and ears, or maybe a shimmering cloak of scales, or even butterfly wings.  But beneath those squishy edges, the heart beats the same.

* * *

Death is the Referee by Katlina Sommerberg

Where Does It Hurt? by Amy Clare Fontaine

The Power of Volcanic Love by Carol Scheina

The Reunion by Kristen Hornung

The Pine Lesson by Ian Madison Keller

The Huli Jing of Chinatown by Wen Wen Yang

Funnel Dresses by Priya Sridhar

Entanglement Solved by Stephen R. Loftus-Mercer

* * *

If you want to learn more about the nature of furry fiction — if reading our stories hasn’t given you a clear enough picture, and you want it spelled out for you plainly — check out this essay by our editor in our sister magazine, Deep Sky Anchor:

* * *

Furry Fiction: The Squishy Edges and the Heart by Mary E. Lowd

* * *

And as always, if you want to support Zooscape, check out our Patreon.

by Stephen R. Loftus-Mercer

“Because each arm hosts an independent brain, I had to go on separate dates to win over each tentacle.”

“Follow me to the lab! I have something to show you!”

That giddiness, the light in those two over-large eyes, the quivering of all eight arms… I’d seen my lover like this only twice before. One of those inventions led to a Nobel prize; the other sold for life-changing money to a venture capital firm. I walked behind on my two legs, admiring the way my lover’s eight limbs pulled along, each independent yet in synch with the others. Our house included handholds everywhere, one of many accommodations for a joint human-cephalopod household.

As much as I loved the excited “come see what I built,” I dreaded the frequent depression that followed when the invention didn’t quite work, but I had learned early to endure difficulties in my relationship. Simply dating a cephalopod requires patience. Because each arm hosts an independent brain, I had to go on separate dates to win over each tentacle. It took three months before tentacle Delta (my lover’s naming scheme) finally decided I was better as a mate than as food and stopped trying to pull me into the chewing cavity.

Walking behind my lover now, I smiled, remembering that first night when we lay tangled in each other’s arms. We might still be there, blissed out, if my weight hadn’t cut off the blood flow to tentacle Theta and made it go numb. Cuddling on a couch is hard enough for two humans, with someone’s arm frequently pinned down wrong, but throw some extra limbs into the mix and pain is virtually certain every time. Ah, the things we do for love! All the numb arms are made up for by the shared time together – which this trip to the lab was clearly intended to be.

“Behold!”

I beheld… a couch. A two-human loveseat, to be precise. Microfiber with armrests at both ends. The couch itself was red, but the seat cushions were blue (left) and green (right) — each one 0xFF of its respective color, as if a kindergartener armed with only the primary color markers had drawn it. “What does it do?”

“It does not do anything. We are going to do something to it. Or, rather, on it.” Cephalopods do not have eyebrows, but the left eye ridge performed a reasonable facsimile thereof. “Look beside the couch. What do you see?”

“Um… pillows? All sorts of different shapes and solid colors. Honestly, babe, if you’re wanting to replace our current couch, this is a bit garish.”

“Don’t pass judgement yet. Now, I’ve had the computer running analysis for two weeks, and it has generated a list of instructions. I’m going to start it reading the instructions aloud, and you and I will follow along. Got it?”

My mother warned me when I got into this relationship: “Genius leads to madness,” she said. She said the eccentricities would build up and get me killed. There had indeed been some close calls with some of the inventions.

But that giddiness — I could not ever say no to those eyes. And, really, pillows seemed safe enough. “Ok. I’ll play your game.”

“Great! Computer, please play Couch Instruction Set nine seven two.”

The speakers played a dramatic fanfare chord and then settled into some calming flowing water overlaid with some light jazz. “Human, please remove your shoes and stand on the blue seat cushion.”

“Stand on the couch?”

“Just do what it says. Trust me!”

“Fine. There. Now what?”

“Computer, next instruction.”

“Cephalopod, please hand the yellow wedge pillow to the human.”

“Human, please place the yellow wedge between your legs.”

“Cephalopod, please place arm Alpha lengthwise on the back of the couch. Then place the cyan round pillow upright between the blue and green seat cushions.”

“Human, please lean right and arch over the cyan pillow.”

It went on like this for several minutes: move a body part, add a pillow. I whispered to my lover, “It’s like some advanced game of Twister. And I don’t know where this is headed, but if we get much more tangled, maybe I should’ve started with fewer clothes?”

Chuckling. “Patience. You’ll understand in a moment.”

The computer intoned: “End of instructions.”

Now we were at rest with just the music playing in the background, my two arms and two legs threaded through my love’s eight appendages amid a nest of pillows. Our heads rested together such that we could whisper sweet nothings in each other’s ears. It was truly comfortable, and I lay there just basking in that wonderful sensation of being totally enveloped by another being.

After a couple minutes: “Do you notice anything?”

“Other than your breathing, and that little stroking thing Beta is doing on my ear? Not really.”

“How’s the blood flow in your arms? Any numbness?”

“It’s… oh!” I gasped. “You’ve done it! I thought you said the multiple parametric equations were too complex to be solved in our lifetimes?”

“I found a shortcut — a revolution in mathematical knot theory. And the shortcut doesn’t just help us. My program analyzes any species pairing and produces the necessary instruction set. Couples just have to supply the pillows.”

I snuggled closer. “This is your best invention yet.”

We rested there for hours on that amazing couch, dreaming our future together, all without either one of us losing feeling in any appendages. My lover had cracked the ancient problem. At long last, all couples would be able to cuddle without pain! Love wins!

 

* * *

About the Author

Stephen R. Loftus-Mercer is a computer scientist and writer based in Austin, TX. His stories have appeared previously in Analog Magazine. He may be contacted on Twitter @AristosM. Stephen wishes all new couples to know that they can stop scouring the Kama Sutra for answers because the secret your parents never told you really is “better pillows strategically placed”!

by Wen Wen Yang

“When they’d first built into the Wilderness, the humans had pasted wards across every threshold, stopping weaker spirits from entering the city.”

The legend is only partially true. I had already hidden away my fox-skin, already decided on Jack when he saw me naked in my human-skin. I am not the huli jing from San Francisco, whose fox-skin was stolen by a human man. One newspaper called it devotion that she returned nightly to her husband. She was devoted to her fox-skin as one is devoted to one’s hands.

Fox spirits capture the low hanging fruit. When these men come upon a naked woman in the wilderness, they would not hesitate to lie naked with her. I had hunted in Central Park but the police had started to notice the missing men.

Some spirits had lived in the Wilderness when it became Chinatown. When humans carved their way into the forest and turned trees into their homes, we determined some use for their village.

Some of us can walk upright and sit in human-skin for hours in service to those who cannot. I had learned to tolerate the confining sensation and the dizziness from having only two connections to the ground. My mother wanted us to pass as human, though she later moved into the Wilderness to be closer to her family.

I spoke unaccented English, staring at the mouths of the humans on the television and mimicking their movements. I brushed my hair into tight braids that looked nothing like a bushy tail.

I helped those in our apartment building who could not walk as humans. Madam Snake is too old to hunt rabbits. The ghosts want new clothes but cannot wait until the new year.

Jack knew me from the market. I admired his wide shoulders, his long sinewy arms as he unloaded his truck and set up his stall in the mornings. He has a hawk’s nose but when I asked how the view was from up there, he only laughed. I belatedly realized he thought I was joking about his height.

He opened my jars and inhaled the scents before deciding which to buy. I told him where I gathered the herbs and how I brewed the ointments for aching muscles.

I learned that he worked his land alone, that he considered it his because his grandfather had passed it down. I wondered if he knew how lucky he was that his grandfather had been able to buy land without intermediaries to sign contracts. He was never startled awake with the sound of gunfire from neighbors.

I did not tell him that the land before his grandfather’s time belonged to everyone, not just humans. The Wilderness that surrounded his farm was precious now, worth millions for its location to the city. It was one of the few places I could roam without my human-skin.

When they’d first built into the Wilderness, the humans had pasted wards across every threshold, stopping weaker spirits from entering the city. Some were weak or forgeries. Another fox spirit in our building, Raina, makes them for tourists and companies. But others were authentic, stronger than the signs of “No animals allowed.”

Walking under the new wards felt like my bones were trying to erupt from my skin. Shamans had blessed these papers, but the magic came from the ink, made from the burnt bones of spirits.

I had given Raina a small sample of my fox hair for her brushes, in exchange for training my stamina against the strongest wards. It took months before I could walk through her wards without crying out in pain.

Another resident, Joro, walked underneath it and said it made her exoskeleton itch. Her glamour shimmered and you could almost see the markings on her abdomen underneath.

I learned to unclench my fists and teeth, to speak without a hint of distress. Eventually, I could walk into any store or restaurant and be served.

“I want to help,” I told Raina one night when the news showed private schools putting wards at their entrances. I couldn’t imagine a child trying to learn while the wards’ magic whipped and burned them.

She returned the brush made with my hairs and gave me a pot of ink. I did not ask her what she had used to make the ink, but I knew others in the building had given up a piece of themselves too. Nightly, I walked our city wearing a glamour Joro had created and added a stroke to render the wards’ magic impotent.

One vengeful ghost had escaped the cemetery’s wards, crossed the bridge and chased her husband out the window of their apartment. The humans thought grief had driven him to leap from the same window and land in the courtyard where they had found his wife’s broken body.

* * *

One spring day, I noticed a bandage around Jack’s wrist. Could he not smell the infection? I asked how he had hurt himself. He had been placing barbed wire around his property. “A coyote got to the chickens.”

I wondered if the pup was injured.

I offered a bit of honey balm. He accepted it, and I watched him discard his bloody bandage.

My mother had taught us to bring our bandages home, to burn them on the stove.

I smeared the honey balm onto his wound, wrapped his hand with clean gauze.

He joked that if he knew he could get my attention with a scratch, he would have hurt himself earlier. I imitated a succubus’s laughter. That evening, as we closed our stalls, he came and asked me to dinner. We exchanged numbers, and I suggested he should try again next week.

Raina was grinding her inks that evening in the basement laundry room and fuming when I told her I had turned him down.

“You call him right now. I can wash the bottles myself.” She had her empty bottles soaking in the sink beside me.

“I don’t know if I want him yet.” I was washing my new jars, then her bottles. If I washed her bottles first, the jars would be tinged with ink and my creams would be murky.

She tested the ink with a clean brush on scrap paper. “Cheap gray ink,” she muttered and continued to grind.

“Who is that for?”

She shrugged. “Came in through the website, fireproofing. As long as it isn’t dragonfire, mine should work.”

“Aren’t there fire resistant stuff?”

“Some like science, some like magic.” She chuckled. “It’s better than the one that asked for a love potion.”

I grimaced, wrinkling my nose. “What did you give them?”

“A bottle of colored saltwater to sprinkle whenever they were kind to someone else. I told them it attracts love to them.”

Many footsteps cascaded down the stairs. Joro in her white silk robe nodded to us as she gathered her laundry from the clothesline hanging overhead. In the building, she didn’t wear the glamour that made her appear human, hiding her extra legs and eyes.

“Joro,” Raina sang her name. “Tell Miss Picky here how you decide on your next human.”

Joro smiled and said in a husky voice, “If they’re there, I want them.” One elegant eyebrow rose. “You aren’t mating for life, my dear.”

* * *

For dinner, Jack selected a vegetarian restaurant. Across the street, I saw another restaurant with taxidermied heads of wolves and lions at the entrance.

When he asked about my family, I did not tell him about the family who lived in the Wilderness. I had blended in so well, no one had asked to see my papers to prove my residence. I knew mothers who lost children to trophy hunters.

He laughed with me when I told him my mother didn’t use my own creams. Instead, she asked me to buy her a particular face cream and send it to her because no stores near her stocked it. I didn’t mention she was a smuggler for those who wanted what the city offered without risking their lives.

He had dreams of a large family, because the world had given him every sign that he would never lose his home. I did not tell him about my cubs, who had thrived in the Wilderness. They had decided to leave the humans behind entirely.

That evening, he walked me home, holding my hand. As we passed the large piles of trash for pickup, he drew me close to him, an arm around my waist. He smelled of my ointment for aching muscles.

I did not invite him into the building. I could see curtains fluttering in the windows. “Nosy neighbors.” I nodded to the first floor. We exchanged a chaste kiss, and I retreated inside.

Joro caught up with me by the time I was on the stairs.

“My dear, those muscular arms, those brooding eyes.” Leave it to the Woman Spider to admire arms and eyes.

“And you wore that!” She tsked. Our resident seamstress always wanted us to be in our best form. Her glamours could make Bigfoot look like a babushka, but her pride was in her clothing which, along with Raina’s faux wards, I sold at my stall. Spider silk, silkworm silk, the humans couldn’t tell the difference.

“If you’d like me to introduce you,” I offered.

“Only once you’re done with him.” She grinned, fangs flashing. “I don’t intend to give him back.”

* * *

Before the next date, I cleaned my apartment of anything that would reveal me. No pictures of family, and I even cleared my internet history of spirit forums.

I had asked the forums if anyone knew of the Wilderness by his farm, and there hadn’t been any attacks on us recently. They didn’t like the barbed wire but it at least wasn’t electrified.

When he texted, I asked him to pick me up. Joro decided she would open the door for him and led him to my apartment. When I opened my door, she was still appreciating his body with her eight eyes behind the glamour.

“Oh, damn, you’re early.” I made myself breathless, flushed. I stepped aside, and he stepped in without a word like a puppet pulled on a string.

Joro winked at me as I shut the door. She had loaned me the robe, white and smooth against my skin. My hair was damp as if I’d just jumped out of the shower. His jaw was still loose, and I wondered if the effect was too much.

“We could stay in,” I managed and he nodded. I’d never seen a man disrobe so quickly. No wonder the Woman Spider never starved for mates and meals.

I remember the strength in his hands. These hands had plastered wards across his stall. These hands had held mine as if he were cradling a hatchling.

Afterwards, he had one arm draped across my body as if we had been lovers for years. Once seduced, would he remove the wards? Would he share his land with the demons who had lived there before his grandfather’s time? Could I invite my mother and friends to visit the space between the Wilderness and the city? Could I introduce him to my cubs?

I heard his phone buzz from his pants. He ignored it, but it buzzed again a few seconds later. Puzzled, he climbed out of the bed and found the phone.

“Sorry, I’m just going to reply.”

“Is it work?” I asked, trying to memorize the strain on his legs, the crease of his spine.

“No, a couple buddies are going on a hunt this weekend.”

Goosebumps erupted across my arms.

“Deer?” I kept my voice light, careless.

“There’s a beast in the forest, luring men with a baby’s cries. They say it’ll eat our hearts and livers. But if we eat it, we will be immune to poison.”

My body went cold.

I muttered something and retrieved my phone from my nightstand. I texted the building a distress signal and put my phone down as he climbed back into bed.

“Are you cold?” He rubbed my arms and the callouses scratched my skin. I burrowed into his warmth, willing my heart to stop pounding.

I should have poisoned his jars.

I acted surprised when someone started knocking on my door a few minutes later. We dressed, and I answered to two small children and a woman.

“Oh my darling, could you watch the little one?” She bounced a toddler on her hip. “The big one’s gotten into the cabinet, and I think he’s swallowed the whole bottle.”

“Of course.” I gathered the toddler from her.

Jack had made it to the door and stopped in his tracks when he saw the child in my arms.

“Oh, you have company!” the mother said and reached for her child. “I don’t want to–”

“Don’t be silly. Go to the doctor.” I smiled, rubbing the toddler’s back. “I’ll be here.”

The mother and her son creaked their way down the stairs.

I had some satisfaction in causing Jack’s loss for words. “Raincheck?”

He looked at his watch and grimaced. “We could still make the fair’s last concert.”

I shook my head. “She might be gone for hours.” I pressed a quick, dismissive kiss to his cheek. “Go. Enjoy the fair.”

* * *

After he left, I removed the toddler’s glamour and tucked a heating pad around the sack of spider’s eggs. I texted Joro, and she returned.

“I hope that was enough,” she said. “Jiao wanted to break a pipe in the basement, but I think they just wanted a swimming pool.”

Joro’s neighbor, a shark person, was able to spin seasilk, and the quality rivaled Joro’s silk. They also had been asking for a swimming pool since the YMCA had put up wards.

“I’m very glad you didn’t flood the basement.” Raina would have had all our heads if her inks and papers were ruined.

Joro pressed one hand to my knee. “Was he such a bad lover, my darling? People that are pretty may not think of another’s pleasure.”

I snorted. “I wouldn’t have asked for an exit plan if it was that.” I held out my phone to the forum page where I’d warned other users of a hunt. “He’s going to hunt fox spirits.”

Joro blinked her many eyes.

“And his surprise second date was going to the fair.”

I had leased a stall once during the yearly fair. Captured spirits headlined a freakshow with wards wrapped around their metal collars. That year’s main attraction was a sky serpent, crashing lightning and fire against the blackened top of the tank. In the next town, audio feedback from a band’s sound check had fractured the glass just enough for the serpent to escape.

Joro seethed. “I should have fed him to my children,” she said, nodding at her bundle of eggs. She squeezed my knee.

“Don’t worry,” I reassured her. “I did not give him my heart and he gave me what I wanted.”

Joro drew me in for a hug. “I’ll see you in six months then? Do you think you’ll be able to come back?”

That morning we had watched the news of bills going through Congress to track everyone passing through to the Wilderness and sending beasts back to “where they came from.”

“I won’t be microchipped like a dog,” Raina had said before leaving to work in her studio.

“I think I’ll stay.” I held Joro’s hand in mine. “Maybe the cub can play with your brood before they leave the nest.”

* * *

After that night, I leased my stall to another vendor, telling the neighbors I needed to care for a sick relative outside of the city. I had no desire for Jack to see my expanding body.

Each day, I smeared every ward on the Lower East Side with ash and pig’s blood. I rode the subway, then the train as far north as they could take me, defacing wards as I went. I crossed paths with demons seeking to eat a holy man for immortality and tree spirits eager to water their roots with human blood.

Through smugglers, I passed a message to my mother, along with gifts for her and my aunts. I gave her several jars of face cream. It had become too dangerous to try to see her, but I reassured her that Joro and Raina treated me like a porcelain doll.

Two new moons later, I had my son.

He has his father’s shoulders, but we share the same fur. His is dark, soft as shadows. I’ve seen him sit in the inbetween-skin, pulling on his fox-skin and watching his reflection in the mirror. His human features melted into pointed ears and a bushy tail.

Jagged tufts of white fur circle his right foreleg. He had wandered out of my sight for a moment in Central Park and a trap caught him. We’d managed to escape before the humans came, but this paw is weaker than the others.

Each trap steals an acre of our safety while the humans hide behind their wards.

In four months, he decides if he wants to venture into the Wilderness or start training to pass as human. Raina and Joro could provide him with convincing papers and glamours, train him to withstand and desecrate the wards.

In four months, I will return to the market.

* * *

The legend would have you believe an invader of our home could seduce a fox spirit into hiding her true nature. In one legend, when he found her fox-skin, she abandoned him and their child.

The legend ends with the human’s forgiveness because the huli jing is his son’s mother. Imagine! She is saved from the hunter’s killing, the taxidermist’s beheading and the furrier’s skinning, because she has given him her child. A child who will never wear their fox-skin and never hunt between the moving shadows of a forest, is that a fox spirit lost without bloodshed?

I do not seek forgiveness.

I dream of walking into the market in human-skin again and tearing the wards down. The panicked humans will gape as the Wilderness sweeps in like a thunderstorm over the horizon. I will find Jack by his scent. My son will meet his father. I will ask him if he would eat his son’s flesh.

 

* * *

About the Author

Wen Wen Yang is a first generation Chinese American, raised in the Bronx, New York. She graduated from Barnard College, Columbia University with a degree in English, Creative Writing. Her work can be found in Fantasy Magazine, the Fit for the Gods anthology and more. Wen Wen currently lives in Texas. She tweets @muteddragon, and updates wenwenwrites.com.