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Mace (ΘΔ)

@wovenroots.bsky.social

420 followers 180 following 680 posts

Art farter - digital, traditional, graffiti 27, trans and therian (wolf, coyote) 18+ fag zone Telegram: thewildestcoyote

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Mace (ΘΔ) @wovenroots.bsky.social · May 21

Coyoteferns --> Wovenroots

Reposted by Mace (ΘΔ)

wolfeblock @wolfeblock.bsky.social · 17h

Contemplation

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wolfears @ furpoc @wolfears.net · 1d

this is the girl you want for yr moving picture

ffm.to/thisisthegirl

this is the girl

wolfears' brand new dream pop single, out now.

ffm.to

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Mace (ΘΔ) @wovenroots.bsky.social · 1d

Oh this is good eatings here

Reposted by Mace (ΘΔ)

Themefinland @themefinland.bsky.social · 1d

Painted tundra -
Commission for Lukka9090 , a snapshot of one of the biomes in their world :)

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Mace (ΘΔ) @wovenroots.bsky.social · 1d

Jumping up and down
I know that one!

Mace (ΘΔ) @wovenroots.bsky.social · 1d

Rolls around on the bed and spins with zoomies

Reposted by Mace (ΘΔ)

pine @umbel.bsky.social · 1d

🌈

Graphite sketch of a foxlike figure standing upright, seen from their rear-left side.

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Mace (ΘΔ) @wovenroots.bsky.social · 1d

Good job, looks so good now

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Mace (ΘΔ) @wovenroots.bsky.social · 2d

Gonna take one more

Reposted by Mace (ΘΔ)

Shimi ·⃝⃤ @shimi.bsky.social · 7d

New #Zine Play date: Scratch & Me. 1/2: What starts as #animalhrt reintegration turns into a gay, feral mess. Tail-flags, enrichment-bot-humping, & creaturely flirtation they don’t have protocols for. #exhumanisn #therianthropy & finding love thru nosebumps, leg mounts, & disregarding clipboards.

Page 1 – Cover
Alt text: A black-and-white illustrated zine cover titled PlayDate: Scratch & Me by Shimi & Critter. A wolf and a coyote face each other playfully, their tails raised, mouths open mid-bark, arrows curving between them. Text at bottom: “Research notes remain property of Glaxo Smyth-Klein.

Page 2 – Foreword
Alt text:
Typed text under the heading Foreword:

This field account represents an early-stage observation of cross-species affective integration during post-theriomorphic rehabilitation. Following the administration of Lupinex (Therionyl–5mL, Dose 9), subject WLF-7 was introduced to a controlled interaction zone for social re-acclimation with subject CYT-3 (‘Scratch’), a coyote-type who had successfully completed full human sentience-divestment protocols two months prior to these events.

What ensued was neither anomalous nor unexpected… While not explicitly designed as a courtship environment, the enclosure nevertheless provided adequate stimulus for instinct-led affiliative behaviors, scent-sharing, and what supervisory logs delicately refer to as ‘non-target arousal states.’

This transcript has been preserved in its near-entirety as a rare qualitative snapshot of joy unburdened by language, love untroubled by taxonomy… For the record: the enrichment bot did not survive.”
At the bottom: “– Journal of Transitional Companion Species Studies, Vol. 12, Issue 3. Field Editor: Dr. E.J. Cark. Catalog Ref: WLF-7/CYT-3/PLAY-009.

Page 3 – PlayDate: Scratch & Me (Opening)
Alt text:

Reused cover Illustration of WLF-7 and Scratch a coyote facing each other playfully above the title PlayDate: Scratch & Me:

They told me the playdate was species-safe and therapeutic integration support. A “familiarity session,” they said, smiling, holding clipboards. No cages, no needles, no species-adjusted stress-testing. Just me, a freshly-run wolf girl, still sloshy with Therionyl, and my best friend, a coyote who’d gone in two months earlier, now known, simply, as Scratch.
I think we used to be inseparable? Back before paws. I don’t remember what we called each other then. It’s like remembering hands. She says her name used to be “not important.” Feels about right.
Scratch has two different coloured eyes — one pale amber, one glacial blue — and an extra dewclaw on her left forepaw that clicks too quickly when she paces. She used to love David Bowie, I just about remember that much, which makes the whole mismatched eye thing feel like fate.
The handlers dropped me into the lab-run enclosure with the usual checklist: tail relaxed, ears perked, no visible signs of trauma. It was a “juvenile” range, meaning the fences were padded and the water bowl was comically oversized — a playground, basically, with fake grass and one of those motorised rabbits for enrichment. I sniffed the hell out of it.

But I forgot all about the scent dummy the moment Scratch came bounding through the mesh gate like she was late for a bar fight and excited about it.
Woof! She smelled like joy. Dust, musk, golden resin sun. Her tail spun like a pinwheel as she barrelled toward me, skidding on the synthetic turf and immediately nose-bumping my flank like we were resuming a conversation mid-sentence.
We tumbled together, yipping and clambering in a fur-pile of mutual recognition. She nipped my ear; I bit her scruff; she rolled onto her back and kicked like she wanted me to see the ridiculous length of her tongue. She’d always been like this. Just… more Scratch now. Less girl-who-was.
I don’t think either of us realised we were flirting.
We’d no plans. No script. But we kept getting closer. Like, crotch-sniffing close. Tail-swishing, back-arched, “hey is this normal” kind of close. I mean, we’d always had that slightly-too-long eye contact thing going back in the human days — long nights in dorm rooms, secrets with no outlet, the kind of affection you could only channel into shared playlists and ill-advised tattoos. But we never did anything.
Turns out, animal brains don’t care about inhibition. Turns out, tails are loud.
She winked one of her mismatched eyes and flagged her tail up so dramatically I thought she was trying to signal aircraft. I made the kind of low, breathy whine I used to reserve for art-house movies and midnight texts. Then she circled me, brushed flanks, and made this tiny little hop like “tag — you’re in heat.”
I was not in heat. I was ready for problems. Awrrfff! It just escalated from there.
At some point, I hiked my tail too fast and knocked over the handler’s little enrichment cam-bot. Scratch pounced it and started biting and humping it like a squeaky toy possessed by heat and bad decisions. It made a noise like a drowning coffee grinder. I was cry-baying with laughter and half-lunging at her side, and somehow we both ended up in the crash-mat tunnel

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Reposted by Mace (ΘΔ)

🌌 Sasha R. Jones 🔜 BLFC Dealer's Den @sasharjones.bsky.social · Jan 12

"Black Posca Hare", ~4" x 7" posca paint pen on collage-primed reclaimed wood panel
This piece really is where I hit my stride during the art jam I did this time last year! I knew I was getting into something cool with these big abstracted shapes and interlocking mark-making.
Original sold.

A portrait of a black hare facing the viewer, rendered in paint pens. Shards of turquoise, orange, red and ivory peek through in the figure, and blocky white shapes carve out the hare's silhouette, sometimes cutting through it. Two different types of collaged paper show through behind the artwork.

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Reposted by Mace (ΘΔ)

Mace (ΘΔ) @wovenroots.bsky.social · 3d

@khobalt.bsky.social got some goodies

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Mace (ΘΔ) @wovenroots.bsky.social · 3d

I want to get my hands into scuplting so bad. Molding my feelings, literally. I hope we both get that soon!

Mace (ΘΔ) @wovenroots.bsky.social · 3d

Oh lovely! I have been loving traditional media more recently. It allows my wrist the choice to have more breaks. It allows my brain to think more and adresses my discipline issues through repercussions. If you ever want to get back into it, I would love to know what you make.