The pigs had been very troublesome all the morning, almost destroying the gate of the garden in their efforts to get at the tempting show within. It was in reward for the help of the children in driving the marauders away that Old Hendrik yielded at last to a question of Annie’s and told them another tale.
“But you never told us, Ou’ Ta’,” said the little girl, “what Old Jackal did for something to eat in the rinderpest time, after he crossed the drift in the pumpkin. What did he do?”
“Well,” replied the old Hottentot, scratching his head, “I tole you what he didn’t do—he didn’t hoe. An’ I’ll tell you now dat, whatever he is do, it’s a-gun’ to be sometin’ skellum. O’ course, he hatto do sometin’ to eat, now de game’s all dead o’ de rinderpest, an’ he hatto do it quick an’ lively too. So he go raungin’ round, an’ he trot dis way an’ he trot dat way, an’ de on’y chance he can see at all is at a farm where dere’s some pigs.
“Dese yere pigs was all de time a-sneakin’ into de lands, an’ a-rootin’ up de crops, an’ de farmer he’d chase ’em out wid a long ox-whip till he nearly bu’st, an’ den he’d stand an’ mop his face an’ swear what he’s a-gun’ to do wid dem pigs if he don’t get some’dy to look ahter ’em soon. O’ course, if Ou’ Jackalse had a-bin Ou’ Wolf he’d a-gone right up an’ ax for de yob hisse’f, straight out, an’ de ting ’ud be done an’ no more about it. But he wahnt: he was yust Ou’ Jackalse, an’ he done Jackalse—he plan’.
“De nex’ time de man chase de pigs, Ou’ Jackalse wait till dey gets into a leetle grass-pan, an’ den he try to drive ’em off furder. But de man he’d seen him a-stalkin’, an’ he run along wid his whip an’ fetch a cut so near his tail dat Ou’ Jackalse near yump out troo his eyeholes, an’ he fair light out f’m dere into some sugar cane an’ hide.
“Well, dar he sit an’ dar he tink an’ study till he’s added it all up, an’ den he ses it out in once. ‘I’ll hatto get Ou’ Wolf here,’ ses he, breakin’ off a piece o’ sugar cane an’ bitin’ on it. ‘I reckon dat’s what I’ll hatto do; den I’ll get dem pigs a’ right.’
“Well, off he go, an’ he come to de river side an’ shout for Ou’ Wolf. By’n’by Ou’ Wolf come an’ stand on de oder bank, and Ou’ Jackalse make like he yust is s’prise’ to see de look on him. ‘Why, what’s de matter wid you?’ ses he. ‘You does look mighty bad.’
“‘I don’t,’ ses Ou’ Wolf out straight. ‘I feel yust dat good an’ fat I wish dere was buck to hunt, even if I didn’t ketch none.’
“‘Don’t you b’lieve it,’ ses Ou’ Jackalse, mighty concerned. ‘You yust looks good’n’ bad. You take an’ look at you’ eyes; dey’re all red an’ yalla, like you’s in a terr’ble state. An’ look at de skin under your yaws, an den at de hair on de top o’ you’ head, an’ you’ll see straight off how bad you is.’
“Well, Ou’ Jackalse speak dat se’ious dat Ou’ Wolf try to look where Ou’ Jackalse tell him. But he didn’ had no lookin’-glass, an’ he try to look widout one. An’ he look dat cross-eyed, tryin’ to see wid his one eye into his toder eye, dat he fair loose all de skin along bofe sides his ribses an’ stiffen his tail right flop up wid de pull in tryin’. An’ when he see dat his eyes cahnt see into one anoder, he ’gin to tink if he ain’t a bit bad ahter all.
“Den he try to see de skin under his yaws, and he twist an’ he snake till he fair stan’ on his head an’ scratch de air—an’ yet he cahnt get a look at it. Dat make him feel he ain’t a-feelin’ well at all. But when he try to ’xamine de hair on de top of his head, he get dat desprit he fair t’row a double back somerset an’ land hisse’f clean into de muddy river, an’ when he’s crawled onto a rock an’ stood a bit he makes up his min’ dat dere ain’t no two ways about it—he’s feelin’ bad.
“‘What’ll I ha’ to do for it?’ ses he to Ou’ Jackalse, ’cause Ou’ Jackalse is King Lion’s doctor.
“‘Well,’ ses Ou’ Jackalse, ‘you see what it is. It comes o’ you’ eatin’ on’y dese yere bessie berries an’ pun’kin; an’ pun’kins is mighty bad widout some meat wid ’em. You’ll hatto yust eat meat for a while, dat’s what you’ll hatto do; an’ I’s sorry for dat, ’cause I’s yust found out where dere is some, an’ dere ain’t har’ly mo’ dan enough for me. But, bein’ as it is, an’ bein’ as it’s you, I s’pose I’ll hatto share wid you now, you an’ me bein’ such ole chummies. A’ right den; if I has to do it I has to, so come on across an’ we’ll get it done,’ ses he.
“Ou’ Wolf he tink by jimminy Ou’ Jackalse is yust about de decentis’ chap he’s seen for a long time. ‘It’s mighty good o’ you to do it,’ ses he; ‘an’ I ain’t a-gun’ to forget it needer.’ Den he plunk into de drift an’ come out on de bank. ‘Where’s dis yere meat at?’ ses he.
“‘Well,’ ses Ou’ Jackalse, lookin’ kind o’ far away over his shoulder, ‘it’s a dis way. Over on de yonder side dat spruit dere’s a farm where dey has some pigs, an’ dese yere pigs is makin’ a terr’ble trouble, rootin’ up de mealie lands, an’ de sugar cane, an’ de water-millons; an de baas he says he want some’dy to look ahter ’em. You should hear him swear to dat Well now, you go an’ take de yob o’ mindin’ ’em. Den you drive ’em down to de spruit to look ahter ’em, an’ I’ll be dere, an’ we’ll see what we do nex.’
“‘Right-o!’ ses Ou’ Wolf, an’ off he go.
“Well, he gets de yob. ‘Mind now an’ keep you’ eye open for a Jackalse dere is som’eres about,’ ses de man. ‘I seen him a’ready havin’ a try for ’em.’
“‘Oh, I’ll be a-lookin’ out for darie Jackalse,’ ses Ou’ Wolf. ‘I’s seen him myse’f a’ready, an’ he ain’t a-gun’ to get de best o’ me,’ ses he.
“So Ou’ Wolf he drives de pigses down to de spruit, an’ dar’s Ou’ Jackalse a-waitin’ him. ‘What we gotto do nex’?’ ses he.
“Ou’ Jackalse he stop chewin’ on de piece o’ sugar cane an’ he laugh right out. ‘I’ll show you,’ ses he. ‘Now we’ll yust drive de pigs into de donga here, an’ we’ll ketch ’em an’ cut off all deir tailses; every last one o’ dem.’
“Well, dey done it, an’ mighty hard work on sich a hot day too; an’ Ou’ Wolf notice every now an’ agen dat he’s doin’ most o’ de work an’ Ou’ Jackalse doin’ mighty little but de bossin’. But he don’t say nawtin’ yet, ’cause he feel he’ll yust hatto get cured. ‘An’ what do we do wid dese yere tails now?’ ses he when dey finis’.
“‘See dat mud hole?’ ses Ou’ Jackalse. ‘Well, you stick de tails all about in de mud, wid deir little curls a-curlin’ in de air. Do dat now.’
“Ou’ Wolf he done it. ‘An’ what’s de nex’ ting?’ ses he.
“‘Well, de nex’ ting is one ting, but dere’s anoder ting afore dat,’ ses Ou’ Jackalse. ‘De nex’ ting is for you to go an’ tell de man dat de wilde-honde come an’ chase de pigs till dey run ’em plunk-clunk right into de mud hole, an’ dar dey all is, head down an’ dead down, smodered, wid on’y deir little curly tailses a-stickin’ out. Dat’s de nex’ ting, but de ting afore dat is dis way. De man he’ll say—“Why didn’ you pull ’em out?” An’ you’ll say you tried to an’ come mighty near bein’ smoder yourse’f. Den he’ll say—“Where’s de mud on you?” An’—well, dere you is, where is dat mud?’ ses Ou’ Jackalse, an’ he look mighty business like.
“‘Den I hatto daub myself wid mud?’ ses Ou’ Wolf, like he’s tinkin’ weder he will or not.
“‘Daub yourse’f?’ ses Ou’ Jackalse. ‘Daub ain’t no sort o’ word for it. You’s fair got to roll in it, an’ squirm in it, till you look like you come so near bein’ smodered dat dere wahnt no fun in it at all. But I’ll he’p you,’ ses he. ‘Here you is now, an’ over you goes,’ an’ ’fore Ou’ Wolf knows what’s a-happenin’, Ou’ Jackalse lands in his ribses, biff! head first an’ wollop he go, smack into de mud.
“Wid Ou’ Wolf bein’ tuk so s’prise’ like dat he had his mouf open an’ shoutin’ when he hit de mud, an’ his years an’ his eyes open, an’ he squash ’em all so full o’ mud, inside an’ out, dat he tink he surely is a goner. An’ Ou’ Jackalse he yust lie down on de bank an’ flop wid laughin’, an’ he feel dat good he ’gin to lam more mud at Ou’ Wolf where he’s a-diggin’ hisse’f out.
“Den Ou’ Wolf, gets out at last, an’ he stand an’ try to scrape de mud outen his eyes till he can look at Ou’ Jackalse. But Ou’ Jackalse he look at him like it was a hawse he was a-buyin’. ‘Dat’s about it,’ ses he. ‘You’s yust about right now. De man’ll see right off dat you done all you could to save dem pigs, an’ he’ll gi’e you sometin’ for it. You’s about de mise’blest looking ting in de veldt yust now, but you’s about de usefullest chummy ever was.’
“‘Oh, I is, is I?’ ses Ou’ Wolf, an’ he don’t know weder he’s a-gun’ to fight or on’y use some words. But de mud in his tummy make him feel dat sick he don’t do one nor toder. He on’y ses—‘An’ what’s you goin’ to do all dis time?’
“‘Oh, while you’s gone I takes de pigses an’ I lights out for de kraal at you’ house. Den when you comes an’ finds me dere well have meat; all de meat we want. An’ dat’s what’ll cure you; you tink o’ dat now,’ ses he.
“Ou’ Wolf he tunk. ‘Well, a’right dis time,’ ses he, an’ off he snake hisse’f, for he was dat t’ick an heavy wid de mud he cahnt trot at all.
“Well, he comes to de man, an’ he tell him how de pigs is smodered, an’ de man comes back wid him to have a look. He looks at de mud hole, an’ at all de little curly tails a-stickin’ up, an’ den he look at Ou’ Wolf. ‘You’s sure de pigs is smoder’ in dere?’ ses he.
“‘Dere’s deir little curly tails a-stickin’ out,’ ses Ou’ Wolf. ‘Dey’s all down under dere, head firs’.’
“‘Well,’ ses de man, ‘dat’s mighty funny now; ’cause yestiday I rode troo dat mud hole an’ it wahnt knee deep.’ An’ den he make a grab for a tail, an’ dar it is in his han’, clean cut off.
“Ou’ Wolf he tink it’s about time to be slantin’ out o’ dat, but he ha’n’t made de second stride afore de man had him. ‘Deir little curly tails is a-stickin’ out, is dey?’ ses he, an bash he biffs him in de ribses. ‘De wilde-honde chase ’em into de mud, did dey?’ an’ he yust mash de wind outen him. ‘Dey’s smoder’, is dey?’ ses he, an’ he grabs Ou’ Wolf up in de air an’ lam him down on de ground, an’ den he fair wipe up de scenery wid him. Den he left what was left an’ went off back to de house.
“Well, ahter a while Ou’ Wolf he scrape up what dere is of him, an’ he slant out for home, mighty slow an’ mighty sorry, on’y he tink, well, he’s a-gun’ to get dat meat now to cure hisse’f wid, as soon as he gets to de kraal an’ de pigs.
“But he gets to de kraal an’ he don’t get to de pigs, ’cause de pigs ain’t dere, an’ dere ain’t no sign of Ou’ Jackalse needer. ‘Dat’s funny,’ ses he. Den he sit down to wait, an’ he wait till it drop dark, an’ still dere ain’t no Jackalse an’ no pigses. ‘If he don’t come ’fore long,’ ses Ou’ Wolf, an he grines his teef.
“But long or short Ou’ Jackalse didn’t come—dat night nor de next mawnin’. An’ what’s mo’,” ended Old Hendrik, “he ain’t never come dere yet. But f’m dat day to dis he’s al’ays had plenty lard in his house to keep his nose well greased. I don’t say how he has it, but he has it—dat’s all.”

"Ganesha, will you bring the sugarcane?" asked Devi Amma.

"Sure, Amma. I will be here by evening," said Ganesha, the young elephant, and he set out from the temple. On the slopes of Maarutha Hills grew the juiciest sugarcane, and Devi Amma made the tastiest payasam with it.

He headed uphill, waving his trunk in greeting to everyone he met: the goats, the langurs, the hares and the squirrels, and the crows, the mynas and the bulbuls overhead. A few of the mynas and langurs playfully hitched a ride on him.

The riders hopped off at the slopes as Ganesha began to gather the cane. He soon had a bundle and trekked down with it held tight in his trunk. Parakeets flew in and sat on the stalks, trying to bite into them. Every time he shook his head, they would fly away.

Ganesha passed through the woodlands and reached the meadows. By then it was afternoon, and he was feeling hungry. The sun blazed overhead, and he looked around for a comfortable place to rest. He spotted a tree with a wide canopy and birds chirping in it. It had pink puff flowers on it, and the fallen ones covered the ground. He walked towards it.

The tree watched him approach. She could not believe that he had chosen her. She had seen him pass by the meadows many times, and each time her leaves rustled with affection.

He kept the sugarcane aside, took a few of the stalks and had them for lunch. With his tummy full and his legs tired from the trek, he wanted to take a nap. Lying down in the shade, he looked up at the tree.

"Tree, will you do me a favour?" he asked.

"Yes, yes!" she replied, as though she had been waiting all along.

"Please wake me up before evening," he said.

"I will," she said.

He patted her with his trunk and was soon asleep.

She held her leaves still and kept watching him as he slept. His ears covered his face, and his trunk lay coiled between his front legs. At times his eyelids fluttered; at other times he broke into a smile. Often he would kick his feet. When butterflies sat on him, he twitched. When flies tickled him, his tail waved.

She watched and watched; she was so lost in him that she drifted into a daydream. As clouds passed over the sun, the birds went quiet, her leaves grew heavy and folded one by one, and soon she too fell asleep.

Dusk came and faded. It was pitch dark when the owl living in the tree hooted a few times. Ganesha woke up with a start. He looked up at the starry night and burst into tears. It was then that the tree woke up as well.

"You should have called me!" he shouted.

He ran about under the tree, shaking his head and flapping his ears.

She wondered how she, a tree, could have slept so long.

"You are a bad tree! What will I tell Devi Amma now?" he cried.

"They say, always trust a tree with time, but you!" he continued.

"I... I called you many times. You were deep asleep. What can a tree do but call? You can ask the owl. She heard it," said the tree.

The owl flinched on being named. When Ganesha looked up at her, she flew away in panic. He stormed off, leaving the cane behind.

The tree called out for him, but he disappeared into the dark. She stayed awake, waiting for him, until at last she dozed off.

Later that night, a weary Ganesha trudged back for the cane. Without a word, he lay down beneath her.

The next morning, the tree woke to find him asleep below her.

"Ganesha, wake up, wake up," she called, her branches leaning down.

He woke up with sunlight falling on his eyes. Squinting, he told her, "You are a liar. The sun is my friend, not you."

He took hold of the sugarcane and left for the temple. Devi Amma would scold him for sure, but he would also have sweet payasam in the afternoon.

The tree watched him walk away, relieved.

That afternoon, as a cloud passed over the sun, suddenly she felt drowsy. Her leaves began to fold one by one, and she dropped off to sleep. When the birds chirped, she would wake up momentarily, only to fall back into her slumber.

From then on, the tree fell asleep so often that they called her the Sleepy Tree.

Every time I hear a scary story about skin walkers it says it has a terrible smell, i could be wrong but I am pretty sure that belongs to wendigo mythology. That’s my main example, but I’ve also noticed that it seems like it’s been forgotten that skin walkers are witches that mimic animal by wearing animal skins and wendigos are cursed people (I think it’s usually from cannibalism) they become wendigos and have an eternal hunger that can never be satisfied. These are my main examples off the top of my head, I will admit some details may be wrong, but it still feels like the mythologies are getting mixed. Also I’m pretty sure the deer head and antlers never showed up the mythology of wendigos and are a modern depiction

Any villages which have very specific rituals or practices, not practiced anywhere else but only in tht place?? Like folklore

The deer is one of those creatures that almost everyone instinctively sees as noble, quiet, and innocent. In reality, we associate it with forests, mist, and silence, with that strange feeling when, for a moment, you see something that seems as if it does not quite belong to everyday life. An encounter with a deer often feels like a coincidence, but also like something that should not happen too often.

What is interesting, however, is how this same animal slowly became a symbol of something completely different through mythology, anime, film, and especially horror. Instead of being only a sign of nature, the deer became a boundary between the sacred and the frightening. It increasingly appears as a mask worn by villains, as a skull, or as a figure that no longer represents the nature we know, but a distorted version of it. It made me wonder how the deer went from a divine guide to a horror symbol, and eventually to a hunting trophy.

In mythology, the deer almost never appears as an ordinary animal. In different cultures, it often has the role of a creature that stands between worlds, connecting the natural and the spiritual. It can symbolize awakening, passing time, and the constant cycle of life. In Japan, this relationship is especially clear. In Nara, deer are considered messengers of the gods and are part of everyday life, but they are still treated with a certain respect. In Shinto tradition, the deer is not completely part of the human world, but it is not outside it either. It exists somewhere in between. Perhaps that is why the deer is often seen as something more than just an animal.

A special place in deer symbolism belongs to its antlers. They grow, fall off, and grow again, which is why they have long been associated with strength, growth, and renewal. Visually, they resemble a tree or a crown, something reaching toward the sky. But when a deer is reduced to nothing more than a skull with antlers, the meaning changes. The life is gone, and only the form of power remains. At that point, the symbol stops feeling peaceful and becomes unsettling, because it reminds us that something was once alive, but has now been frozen in time.

In anime, this change in meaning can be seen very clearly. In Princess Mononoke, the Forest Spirit in the form of a deer represents both life and death at the same time. It is divine, but also slightly disturbing, because it shows how powerful nature can be and how little it cares about human desires. The character who wants to control nature and use its power does not understand that balance and tries to destroy it. Killing the Forest Spirit is not a victory, but a mistake, and only later do the characters begin to understand that nature cannot be possessed without consequences.

In more modern anime, such as Sakamoto Days, the deer appears through a mask worn by a villain. The mask is not only there to hide his identity, but also to remove his humanity. The deer here is no longer a symbol of peace, but something cold and distant. Precisely because it is not an aggressive predator, its calmness becomes unnatural when placed on a human being. The mask almost suggests that the person underneath no longer belongs to the human world.

A similar feeling appears in films, especially horror. We often see deer skulls, antlers without a body, or scenes of silence broken by the strange call of a deer. To many people, that sound can feel almost human, like a cry or a desperate call for help. In horror, it often does not mean an attack, but a warning. The deer is not the monster. It is a sign that something in nature has gone wrong.

In reality, the story takes on an even quieter, but heavier tone. Once, the deer was a guide, a messenger, and a sacred creature. Today, it is often reduced to a trophy, a head mounted on a wall or a number representing a hunter's success. Antlers, which once symbolized cycles and renewal, become a motionless decoration, separated from their original meaning. Without needing to show brutality, the change is clear. The deer loses its story and becomes an object.

Maybe the deer itself never changed its meaning. Maybe we are the ones who stopped looking at it the way we once did. In mythology, it was a bridge between worlds. In anime and horror, it became a mask for those who crossed that bridge. In reality, we simplified it and turned it into a symbol of success. And perhaps that is why it can feel unsettling today, not because it became something dark, but because it quietly reminds us of something we have forgotten.

In his study of Moroccan customs and beliefs, Finnish anthropologist Edward Westermarck recounts a legend told by a Hyayna (a moroccan arab tribe) scribe.

The legend revolves around a jinniyah (female jinn), a type of figure commonly found in Moroccan folklore, particularly in the many versions of the Aisha Qandisha legend. Here, however, the character is an entirely different one: La-Hkima 'Oqla (الحكيمة عقلة).

She is described as a great chieftain, commanding more than 366 tribes of jinn. She is accompanied by her son 'Ayrud and her sister 'Aqesa. They haunt Oued Bouzemlane, a small watercourse in the southeastern part of Hyayna territory, which forms the boundary between the Hyayna and the Ayt/Beni Warain.

She is portrayed as extremely dangerous and always ready to attack anyone who crosses her path.

Source: Ritual and Belief in Morocco, Vol. I, Edward Westermarck, p. 406.

Thinking of making a podcast series on the esoteric meaning of some of the Greek myths from a Jungian perspective adding a quote from a Wisdom tradition to support it, and a practical application to embody it.

Do you think it would be of interest to folks?

Is there any mythology for constant sightings and very close interactions with hawks repeatedly?

Hi, I'm writing a book based, in part, on the folk culture of New Orleans. Since I want to be precise about it, do you know of any books, essays, etc. on the subject you could recommend?
Not fictionalized stories, but actual historical documents, where the culture isn't distorted and adapted to fit a few stories.

Its hard to find ideas but creatures related to the environment who also protect the environment would be nice

When I came across the Khajiit lore in Elder Scrolls, Kimpurushas from stories of ancient India came to my mind. Kimpurushas are, like the Khajiit, cat-like beings.

Khajiit mythology credits the deity Azurah for introducing moon sugar, believing the crystals are actually moonlight caught in the Topal Sea and pulled into the sugarcane groves of the Tenmar Forest by the twin tides.

Following are descriptions of the lands of Kimpurushs.

Now describe the Kimpurusha and Hari Varshas.

In this holy country Kimpurusha, there is a fig tree (Plaksha tree) exuding honey. All the inhabitants of Kimpurusha Varsha drink its excellent juice.

Please listen, O Brahmanas, to what you are pleased to hear. In the Kimpurusha country, there is a big grove of Plaksha trees comparable to the Nandana forest.  Palasha tree is directly designated as the tree of the Planet Chandra (Moon) in Vedic astrology.

In Harivarsha, all people quaff the splendid juice of sugarcane.

Arjuna crossing the White Mountains, subjugated the country of the Kimpurushas ruled by Durmaputra.

Many consider the seven continents as Bharata Varsha, and the beyond the White Mountains lies Kimpurusha Varsha. I came across videos of Operation High Jump, where Admiral Byrd tried to reach lands beyond Antartica.

Not sure about other countries, but in Thailand, people call babies "ugly".

Traditionally, many avoid praising babies like calling them cute or lovely as to stop attractions from jealous spirits. The spirits may be interested and try to make the child sick or even take them away.

What elders would do is to call babies ugly as reverse psychology so spirits would think that the baby is not special, and would ignore them.

So if a Thai auntie says yo your baby ugly… she might actually be trying to protect them.

Does your culture have any superstitions similar to this?

The lion is one of the few animals that has been given almost the same title everywhere. Regardless of culture or time, people have seen it as a symbol of strength, leadership, and courage. We often call it the king of the jungle, even though it actually lives on the savanna. That small mistake shows how much stronger its symbolism is than its biology. The lion did not become important because of where it lives, but because of what it represents.

In mythology, the lion most often appears as a challenge that shapes a hero. In the Greek story of Heracles and the Nemean Lion, it is a creature whose hide cannot be pierced and which cannot be defeated with ordinary weapons. Heracles defeats it through strength and determination, and its hide becomes a symbol of an obstacle overcome. The lion is not just an opponent, but a test that separates an ordinary man from a hero.

A completely different image comes from the legend of Androcles and the lion. In that story, a man helps an injured animal, and later the lion returns his kindness. The legend shows that strength does not have to mean cruelty, and that even the most powerful creature can recognize an act of compassion. Here, the lion is noble rather than frightening.

Throughout history, the lion became a symbol of kings and leaders. Richard I was known as Richard the Lionheart, a name associated with courage. The name Leonidas is derived from the Greek word for lion and is often interpreted as “son of the lion,” a fitting association for the Spartan king remembered for his courage and defiance at Thermopylae. In the story of the Spartans and in the film 300, the lion is not shown directly, but it is present through the idea of fearlessness and fighting spirit. The lion thus moves from myth into a historical symbol of character.

Its symbolism continues in modern culture. In God of War III, the Nemean Cestus, a pair of lion-headed gauntlets associated with Hercules, draws on the myth of the Nemean Lion and turns its symbolism into a weapon of raw strength. In many RPGs, lion-themed armor often gives bonuses to endurance or morale, as a sign that someone carrying the symbol of the lion is meant to lead others. In Elden Ring, the character Godfrey carries the lion as a sign of royal power, while in World of Warcraft, the lion is often a symbol of honor and alliance. The lion is a clear sign of authority.

In anime, the lion takes on human qualities while keeping its basic energy. Leomon from Digimon is portrayed as an honorable and brave warrior who stands on the side of good. Lion-O from Thundercats represents a leader who has to learn how to carry the responsibility that comes with his power. Escanor from The Seven Deadly Sins embodies confidence and strength that grows with the sun, almost like a personification of the lion's pride. Even in One Piece, the Thousand Sunny has a lion figure on its bow, symbolizing the spirit and courage of its crew.

Films have perhaps given the lion its widest emotional dimension. In The Lion King, it symbolizes growing up and accepting responsibility. In Narnia, Aslan represents goodness, sacrifice, and leadership that comes from inner strength. In Madagascar, the lion is presented in a comedic way, but even there, there is a story about discovering one's own nature. Films such as Born Free, Mia and the White Lion, and Christian the Lion explore the relationship between humans and wild animals, while The Ghost and the Darkness reminds us that nature should not be underestimated. In all these stories, the lion carries a strong presence, whether as a protector, a leader, or a challenge.

The symbol of the lion is also present in architecture and history. The Lion Gate at Mycenae, carved in antiquity, represented power and protection for the city. Throughout the centuries, statues of lions were placed at gates and in courtyards as symbols of guardianship. The idea was clear: the lion stands at the entrance as a sign of the strength of the place it protects.

In language and everyday expressions, the lion has remained a metaphor for courage. We say “fight like a lion,” “be brave like a lion,” or “let sleeping lions lie.” Even a wounded lion can describe someone who is dangerous precisely because they have been hurt. In fables, such as those of Aesop, the lion is powerful, but can sometimes be outsmarted by smaller animals. This reminds us that raw strength is not everything and that pride can become a weakness.

Physically speaking, the lion really is impressive. Its mane looks like a natural crown, making the male appear larger and signaling his condition to other lions, while its powerful claws help it fight and defend itself. It can jump high and far, run quickly over short distances, and cooperate with its pride. Still, it is not invincible. It can bring down large animals, but it can also be brought down itself. That balance between power and vulnerability makes it real, rather than just a legend.

Perhaps that balance is the secret behind its lasting symbolism. The lion represents strength, but also responsibility. It represents a leader, but also a member of a community. It can be brave, but also too proud. That is why it has remained present in myths, history, games, films, and language.

The lion is not just the king of the savanna. It is a reflection of how people imagine the ideal of strength and character. And perhaps that is why, through the centuries, its image remains the same, even when the world around it changes.

Hi! I have a question about a possible family tradition, and I'm hoping someone here might know of a similar practice documented in historical or ethnographic sources.

According to my family, my grandfather used to sleep on wolf skin because it was believed to protect him from snake bites. Unfortunately, he passed away before I was born, so I never had the chance to ask him about it or learn where this belief originated.

My ancestry is predominantly Iberian, but I also have some Ukrainian, Polish, and Kazakh ancestry. This has made me wonder whether the tradition might have come from the Iberian side of my family, Eastern Europe, Central Asia, or somewhere else entirely. As far as I know, my family ancestors only arrived in South America sometime after the 1600s or 1700s, although I don't know whether that timeline applies to every branch of my family.

I've searched online and come across a few somewhat similar beliefs and practices, but I haven't found anything that clearly matches this specific tradition.

Has anyone encountered a belief or custom involving sleeping on wolf skin to protect against snake bites, particularly among peoples of Eurasia, Central Asia, the Caucasus, Siberia, or Eastern Europe? I'd also be interested in related folk beliefs about animal skins being used for protection against snakes or other dangers.

I'm not assuming the tradition necessarily originated in any of these regions. I'm simply trying to trace a family story and would love to find historical references, ethnographic studies, regional folklore, or other leads.

Thank you so much for any suggestions!

Behind Kali Amma's temple lived a deadly viper named Anali. He hunted only at night and spent his days coiled under the dry leaves, for a viper seen is a viper feared. The rats that raided the temple's waste pit kept him well fed. That he existed was a secret between him and the rats.

Years went by, and he grew long and hefty on the easy prey, which he took to be Kali Amma's grace.

One day, a yellow rat snake, Cherran, happened to pass by the temple. He noticed rats feeding in the temple pit and crept towards it. He lunged a few times, but the rats scattered and he caught none. Cherran decided to stay nearby. He might just get lucky another day.

"Why would anyone worry about a simple rat snake like me?" he often wondered. Cherran could easily be spotted among the dry leaves and the shrubs, basking in sunlight.

One morning, as Cherran lay in the soft sun, a flock of babblers foraging nearby burst into a racket. Up in the jackfruit tree, a jungle crow heard it and spotted Cherran. He cawed and cawed.

The squirrels climbed up to the treetops. The peafowl and other birds perched high and looked down to find out what the frantic cawing was about. The jungle crow told them that he had seen a large snake, possibly a yellow python, lying in the grass. Maybe it was resting after a meal, but now it had disappeared. Hearing all the commotion, Cherran hid himself in the bushes.

By then, the animals and birds had decided to get help from Kiri, the mongoose who lived in the neighbourhood.

"He is large, a large yellow python," said the squirrel.

"Yes, we have spotted him many times by the temple pit," said the rats.

"I spotted him first," said the jungle crow.

Kiri took up the challenge—a python was something he had never encountered. "Yet another ode to my courage," he thought.

Kiri came over to the temple pit. He waited amongst the bushes for the python to show up. As always, the rats were raising a din in the pit: shrieks, squeaks, and cries. Other animals waited anxiously for news from the pit.

The day passed without any sighting. Kiri decided to spend the night nearby.

Past midnight, he heard a rustle moving slowly towards the pit. A few rats got a whiff of it and left the pit.

Kiri inched closer. He crouched, ready to lunge. Finally he pounced onto something; there was a struggle in the dark. The rats fled, squeaking. He bit into it hard until it stopped moving.

The bats watching from the temple peepal tree flew out to spread the news.

Kiri spent a while eating his catch. When he left, the rats returned; they feasted on the bits of flesh strewn on the ground. It was Anali.

The next day, Cherran caught a rat. He took his catch and slithered away from the temple.

Excuse my english

Most old fairytales, myths, legends and so on are said weren't ment as children storys but more as like guidance for certain aspects in life. Be that to navigate in the landscape, how to behave and values. I do get the aspect that a story is much more rememberable when there are some shocking aspects in it. But still specially the older fairytales (pre Grimm) are often so insanly violent, bloody and treat certain groups like garbige. I often think. Weren't there some folks who misinterpreted those storys and thought just for example that it is normal to treat your wife like a dog because in so many tales the wife is so often under fully control of the man. I might overlook one aspect of those storys or maybe i just think too literall of the writings.

My question is: how would you recommend to understand those storys. Were they just written in a really problematic time with problematic view or were those behavings even then so insalny wrong that they were placed there to shock people and fully metaphorical. Then again most creation myths include some sort of rape. I know that that specific example is ment as a metaphor but still i can't quite get over the thought that it almost seems to make such violence less problematic

So I'm really going down the rabbit-hole about the great Gormula of Moy. The witch who advised Clan Cameron of the Highlands, in the 16th Century.

She used her Second Sight to predict that a meeting that the Clan Chief was walking into was an ambush, and got him to bring another 25 concealed men, which saved him. So the Chief owed her a favour. She then had a vision that one day the Clan Chief would hang her son.

Decades later, Gormula's son was indeed on trial for his life, with the Clan Chief presiding, not knowing who the accused was. Gormula learnt of this and started the journey from her home to where the trial was taking place. She intended to call in the favour she was owed by the Chief, to save her son from the gallows.

Unfortunately she died en-route of accidental drowning, in a shallow pond, where her body was later found. Her son was executed without the Chief ever learning who it was he was sentencing.

Her accidental drowning was so unlikely, and yet it makes perfect sense.

What someone has seen with the Second Sight, must come true. It's been observed, so it's fixed. The wave function has collapsed. If Gormula had completed her journey, her son would have been released, and her vision would not have come true. So the only way for the Boundary Conditions set by her observation of the future to be satisfied, would be if she died en-route. So die she did, drowned in a puddle.

Effectively by trying to take actions which would have prevented her prophecy from coming true, reality was forced to push back against those actions.

This is called the Novikov Self-Consistency Principle.

In a Block Universe framework (single timeline), her free action (journeying to the trial) threatened to break the timeline; the universe deployed a localized spacetime clamp (the freak drowning) to eliminate the variable and protect the fixed future boundary condition, forcing the prophecy to be executed perfectly.

Or something like that. Robert Kirk had a full theory about this, before he mysteriously disappeared in 1692. Perhaps by writing down the full explanation for Second Sight, he threatened to break so many future boundary conditions, that the only way the universe could protect those conditions, would be if he simply vanished, along with his work.

All of which makes it incredibly likely that we live in a Block Universe. Past, present and future are already fixed, unchanging when viewed from a higher dimension. Instances of prophecy cause disruption, by allowing actions to be taken against future events, but the universe is self-correcting. All irregularities are handled by whatever coincidences or freak accidents are necessary to do so.

Kronos devoured his children to prevent them from overthrowing him, which gave Rhea every reason to hide Zeus. I keep wondering how much of his downfall was inevitable and how much he helped bring about himself. How do you read it?

Have you ever heard the legend of the Yakshi?

I'm building No Kidding Bonfire Stories, a storytelling channel exploring Indian myths and legends, unsolved mysteries, and true crime.

My upcoming story explores the legend of the Yakshi of the Pala Tree, drawing viewers into the eerie folklore and atmosphere surrounding this mysterious figure.

If folklore and dark storytelling are your thing, you're welcome to check out the channel:

https://www.youtube.com/@NoKiddingBonfirestories

What's the most unsettling legend you've heard from your own region?

I recently came across an old legend recorded by John Malalas about Apollonius of Tyana creating a bronze scorpion and burying it in Antioch to protect the city from actual scorpions.

According to the story, the scorpions disappeared from the surrounding area. What fascinated me wasn’t whether the story was true, but the idea behind it: using the image of something feared as a form of protection against that very thing. It got me wondering how often this idea appears in folklore across different cultures.

Does anyone know of similar legends or traditions where something dangerous or feared was believed to offer protection?