Skip to content

Author: innbetween

Story Time: Animals Like Me

So I was sitting there, wondering what I should write, and a phrase occurred to me that I couldn’t get out of my head: teenage Tode. And you thought middle school was bad for you! Try being raised by wolves! Try being a long-lived race with a decades-long childhood!

Enjoy this little coming-of-age story featuring teenage Tode.


Tode sat on a log in a clearing, thinking. He had a question he’d never had before: what kind of animal was he?

He had left the wolves. It was scary, and he was scared, but it was the sort of fear the wolves never seemed to feel, the fear of things that hadn’t happened yet but could. Tode had stopped trying to talk about this kind of fear with the wolves. They said he was a fool to borrow trouble, that they had enough to keep them busy without wasting time thinking such things.

They also told him that he was getting too old to do more playing than hunting, and they might have a point, because Tode still felt like a cub in some ways, even though the wolves who had found him were dead, and their children were too. The pack had less and less obligation to him as time went on. Tode could not blame them. He knew he was not a wolf.

Story Time: Potluck

We are solidly in holiday season, with us Americans just having celebrated Thanksgiving and with wintery get-togethers on the horizon. There’s nothing I like better than hanging out with my family in the kitchen. I thought I’d give the Crew that feeling too.

Just so y’all know, we’ll be taking December off of story time, but that’s because we’re hard at work preparing season five! We’re so close!

Until then, enjoy!


“What do you want to do for your birthday next week?”

Zara turned to Rosie with her eyes practically bugging out. “How did you know?”

Story Time: Haunted

Please ignore the fact that ghosts are a literal monster in D&D. It’s spooky season, dangit. We’re pretending.


* * *

“Do you believe in ghosts?”

Knowles couldn’t help but note the tiny quirk of mischief at the corner of Cybilene’s mouth as she asked the question. They were fairly sure that Tode noticed too, although he opted to mirror the look, ready to join in with mischief of his own. He was doing that more and more, falling easily into step with his twin. It was probably healthy, Knowles thought.

“I mean, it seems silly to dismiss the possibility, given everything I’ve seen,” Castor posited.

“Still though, like, ghosts?” Rosie waved a lackadaisical hand. “I don’t really know. There’s plenty of weird stuff that’s real without adding spirits. Like the actual undead.”

“You don’t believe in ghosts? Really?” Killiker asked. He was laying down beside the fire and had been whistling up until that moment, a lonesome song that Knowles could feel kneading the stress out of their shoulders. They were sorry he stopped.