http://photography.nationalgeographic.com/photography/photo-of-the-day/cappadoccia-turkey-landscape-aerial/

Amelsh hurried down the hall clutching a stack of blueprints under his arm. He checked the watch on his thin green wrist. Only a minute late. It could have been much worse. The blueprints were supposed to be ready two days ago. But in typical fairy fashion, the team in the design department had spent a few days arguing over the merits of which color ink to use on the plans. After that, they’d tried to edit the content of the plans several times, and Amelsh had to spend a great many hours redoing work he’d already completed.

The rooms in the Department of the Capital counted up as he passed. 1101, 1103, 1105. He took a deep breath as he approached 1111 at a big juncture of 3 main hallways. The door pointed out from a corner, cut along with its frame from a rich, dark wood. Amelsh felt his translucent wings flutter just a little from nerves. He paused in front of the door, took a deep breath to prepare himself, and then entered.

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http://photography.nationalgeographic.com/photography/photo-of-the-day/romania-ursul-bear-dance/

Civility in Short Supply During Anti-Ursid Demonstrations
By C. Cibo
16^th Mursir 1342 A.A.

For the third straight day, demonstrations against the world’s Ursid population went into the night in cities around the world.

Police in Seattle, WA and Portland, OR made several arrests amid a fresh round of effigy burning and slogan chanting. A few fires near the famous Seattle fish market spread to nearby structures, including two newspaper kiosks. The organizers were arrested for arson and inciting a riot.

In Europe, the stories are similar. Warsaw, Budapest and Vienna saw hundreds gather in public places to rail against the Ursids in the region. London and Paris both had smaller, but still vocal, gatherings.

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http://photography.nationalgeographic.com/photography/photo-of-the-day/gran-paradiso-unterthiner-snow/

Through much of the winter, the Lost Mountain was completely inaccessible. Constant snowfall buried the craggy peak for almost eight months out of the year. Loose snow was very difficult to gauge. It could be a few inches deep or a few feet. The uneven surface beneath it was impossible to see until the spring melt.

As the expedition of three eased their way up the mountain, they wondered if the end of winter was the best time to attempt to scale the Lost Mountain. All around them, little pockets of loose snow lost their grip on the dark grey stone. For two days, they’d walked above, below and through brief cascades of falling snow.

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http://photography.nationalgeographic.com/photography/photo-of-the-day/paraglide-adventure-denmark-cows/

In a quiet glade on a grass-covered hill by the ocean, a small herd of wide-horn cattle graze on the lush green expanse. They’re a quiet crowd, making little sound besides the chomping of grass between their teeth. A low, cool wind blows across the exposed patch of grass.

Something odd descends toward the ocean side of the meadow. A dot and a red splash appear against the dull grey backdrop of the overcast sky. Most of the herd doesn’t notice. But one or two give the strange object a glance. It descends, in slow loops, until it materializes into something other than two marks of color. It’s a man strapped into seat, a paraglide chute opened above him. As he eases toward the earth, the man looks at the herd of cows expectantly, a mixture of anxiety and excitement on his face.

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http://photography.nationalgeographic.com/photography/photo-of-the-day/recreation-miami-biscayne-steinmetz/

The entire plan hinged on the plan’s sticking point – they would need to fly. They could not fly without practice. Without mastering the plan, they would fail. Without practice, they could not master the plan. And so they’d been out here since dawn every day for five days, all to practice. And learn. And practice some more.

“Let’s go again.”

“Dunn, this thing’s pulling to the right.”

“Doesn’t look like it is.”

“I’m telling you it’s pulling to the right.”

“So lean left.”

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http://photography.nationalgeographic.com/photography/photo-of-the-day/san-francisco-salt-marsh/

Valefar the demon blinked into existence.

The crossroads was typical of its type with long stretches of weathered asphalt shooting off into the distance toward the cardinal directions. He couldn’t confirm that, of course, as any compass in the area would have gone haywire at his appearance. But generally speaking, when they pulled him from the comforts of Hell to parlay on Earth, they choose their crossroads with care.

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http://photography.nationalgeographic.com/photography/photo-of-the-day/meadow-wildflowers-italy-unterthiner/

Light sparked to life in the darkening sky above the flower-strewn meadow. He stood in the center, hands at his sides, eyes turned up. He waited, patiently, watching for a star far more red than any other, almost directly to the West, to click on. When it did, he held his breath.

Tucked away so far from civilization, the alpine meadow had been a favorite of the students. This was in the days of cooperation and shared learning when a school stood just a mile south. It had been perched on a rocky outcropping, and its views had been almost otherworldly. It was where he’d first truly considered the wonder of stars. And where he’d met her.

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http://photography.nationalgeographic.com/photography/photo-of-the-day/surfing-oahu-hawaii-nicklen/
Underwater Breathing Manual
Appendix A: Tips & Techniques

Throughout this manual, we’ve tried to establish the strengths and weaknesses of your new life with Selective Aquatic Breath. If you have not read the earlier sections of this manual, we highly recommend you do so before referencing these appendices. There are a great deal of safety requirements, best practices, health information and other relevant details that may be referenced in the appendices without being explained. It will help to read the appendices with the full knowledge of the manual’s earlier sections.

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http://photography.nationalgeographic.com/photography/photo-of-the-day/pond-poland-winter-morning/

It was the ninth time they had gathered at the lake’s edge. It took circumstances of true consequence to bring the rulers of the forests to this place. Eight times before the tree lords had felt that unfolding events had required them to meet. Eight times before the tree lords had uprooted from their ancestral homes to make the long journey. Each trekked across vast distances across dry deserts, through roaring rivers and over snowcapped mountains. It was a tradition that had served them well, and to a tree they were committed to the conclave.

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