u/Bad_Badger_DGAF

May 11th, 1915

West Dormitory, Nova Academia

Evelyn,

I am writing this because you are currently under infirmary observation and because Dr. Harroway has threatened to confiscate my campus identification if I attempt to visit again before morning. Apparently “she only fell out of a tree because I startled her” is not considered a sufficient explanation for returning twice in one evening.

You are alive.

I am writing that first because I have had to repeat it to myself all day.

You are alive. I am alive. The foal is, presumably, alive. Its mother is certainly alive, unless immortal wrath has recently been classified as a posthumous reflex.

I would like it entered plainly into the record that I told you the nest was too large.

Not “large in an interesting way.”

Not “large enough to suggest a previously undocumented breeding behavior.”

Too large.

When a nest is wide enough to contain two graduate students, one lantern, three field notebooks, a coil of rope, and your entire supply of sugar biscuits, it is not an invitation. It is a warning constructed out of timber.

Naturally, you climbed in.

Naturally, I followed.

This is becoming a pattern.

The juvenile specimen was, I admit, remarkable. Smaller than expected, warm, and softer through the mane than any rational creature with wings ought to be. I understand why you reached for it. I even understand why you whispered, “Oh, Lillian, look at his little feathers,” as though the world had not just shifted beneath our feet.

What I do not understand is why you then attempted to determine whether the secondary pinions were “ticklish.”

The foal bleated.

The sky itself answered.

I do not think I shall ever forget the sound of the mother landing behind us.

Not galloping.

Not approaching.

Landing.

There was a silence first, which was worse. The trees stopped moving. The insects stopped. Even you stopped talking, which I had not previously believed possible under field conditions.

Then I saw her shadow fall across the nest.

You, of course, were still holding the foal.

You looked delighted.

Evelyn Marlowe, you looked delighted.

I realize panic produces strange expressions, but yours was not panic. It was discovery. It was the exact same face you made when Professor Ainsley showed us the preserved basilisk optic nerve and told us not to lean too close.

The mother’s wings filled the sky. I remember the moon catching the edges of them. I remember thinking she was too beautiful to be real and too angry to be survived. Her eyes were not animal eyes. I am aware that sounds unscientific, but I have no better phrase for it.

Then you said, very softly:

“She thinks we’re stealing him.”

A brilliant deduction.

Possibly your finest.

The next forty or so seconds are less clear in my memory, although I am confident they included the following:

You attempting to hand the foal back politely.

Me telling you not to bow to a horse.

The mother striking the nest rim hard enough to throw both of us sideways.

Your glasses vanishing.

My sleeve catching on a branch.

The foal escaping our arms and immediately hiding behind you, which was not helpful.

You apologizing to the mother in at least three languages, none of which were equine.

And finally, both of us running down the ridge with less dignity than any Nova student has displayed since the 1908 ghoul practical.

I still have splinters in my left hand. You have bruises along your shoulder, a collarbone broken in two plsces, a concussion and one pinion induced cut across your back that you are no doubt going to call “useful evidence” once you are awake enough to be insufferable.

The photograph survived.

I do not know how.

The plate shows us smiling down at the foal, entirely unaware of the great black shape behind us. It is the most damning image I have ever seen. If displayed without context, it suggests tenderness. With context, it suggests criminal negligence.

I have hidden it in my anatomy text for the time being.

Do not ask which one. You will only try to retrieve it.

Dr. Harroway says you must remain still for another day. I told him that asking you to remain still is like asking phosphorus to reconsider its temperament. He did not laugh. I suspect medical men dislike metaphor when concussions are involved.

Your field bag is beside my bed. Your notebook was damp, but legible. I dried the pages carefully. The sketch of the foal is very good, though you wrote “baby?” seven times in the margin and once, for reasons unknown, “potential friend???”

I did not correct it.

I also found the biscuit crumbs. You were trying to feed it, weren’t you?

Do not answer that.

I already know.

I am angry with you, which is inconvenient, because I am also very glad you are not dead. These sentiments are proving difficult to store separately.

You have a talent for stepping so close to impossible things that the rest of us must either drag you back or follow. I wish I were better at the first.

I suspect I am becoming very poor at it.

When you are released, you are not to return to the ridge. You are not to “check on the foal.” You are not to leave a peace offering. You are especially not to test whether the mother recognizes your scent.

If you must endanger yourself, at least wait until you can walk properly again.

I mean that practically.

Mostly.

Rest. Drink water. Do not charm the nurses into letting you escape through the laundry corridor.

And Evelyn?

Next time something that large builds a nest, you observe from below.

Yours,

Lillian

P.S. I found your glasses. One lens is cracked, but the frame survived. I will bring them tomorrow, along with your blue scarf. You kept asking for both before you fell asleep.

P.P.S. The foal followed us halfway down the ridge. I did not include this in the official report. I thought you should know.

Fun Fact: If a Pegasus were real and followed normal limits of physics, its wingsspan would be nearly that of a 747.

Modern electronic article found here: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pegasus

The Russian River Nymph, Modern electronic article found here: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rusalka

Cumberland County Sheriff’s Office

Supplemental Incident Report

Date of Occurrence: November 17th, 1932

Filed: November 18th, 1932

Reporting Officer: Sheriff H. R. Bellweather

Location: Mill Road, east of Buckshutem Road, rural Cumberland County, New Jersey

Weather: Cold, damp, poor visibility, moon intermittent

Subject: Pursuit of suspected bootleg delivery vehicle and alleged exotic livestock

At approximately 11:40 p.m. on the evening of November 17th, Deputies Walter Pike and Thomas Greaves reported observing an unregistered motor truck traveling south along Mill Road without headlamps, excepting one lantern tied to the front bumper and described by Deputy Pike as “intentionally subduded in a suspicious manner.”

The vehicle was identified as a modified military-style pickup, dark in color, with an oversized rear box, reinforced springs, engine noise “like a threshing machine being strangled", and Massachusetts registertion plates.

Deputies state they gave pursuit after determining the truck was likely engaged in unlawful transport of distilled spirits intended for Atlantic City establishments.

I note here that neither deputy explained how this destination was determined from the rear of a moving truck in darkness.

According to their written statements, the truck was operated by a young woman, age estimated between twenty and thirty years, wearing a long coat and driving “with unlawful confidence.”

Deputy Greaves further states that the driver turned once, smiled, and “tipped no hat because she was not wearing one.”

This detail was underlined twice in his account for reasons unknown.

The deputies allege that the bed of the truck contained no fewer than twelve glass demijohns, six wooden crates, and one homemade cage secured by rope atop the cargo. How they knew the exact contents of the truck without apprehending it, neither officers can explain.

Within said cage, they claim to have observed a juvenile specimen matching local descriptions of the so-called Jersey Devil.

The creature is described as follows:

-Approx. size of a large hound

-Horned or antlered head

-Batlike wings

-Hooved rear limbs

-“Mean little eyes”

-Repeated attempts to bite the cage

-One noise “between a goat, a baby, and a busted fiddle”

Deputy Pike asserts the animal looked at him directly and “knew the law was involved.”

I have entered this phrase into the report exactly as written.

The pursuit continued for approximately three miles, though distance estimates vary between the two deputies.

Deputy Greaves reports the suspect vehicle “took the cedar bend sideways,” throwing mud and gravel into the patrol car windshield. Deputy Pike reports that at this same moment the creature in the cage opened its wings and caused “a considerable spiritual disturbance.”

No damage consistent with spiritual disturbance has been found on the patrol car.

There is, however, a dent in the left front fender, mud packed into the radiator, and an empty bottle of unlabelled corn liquor, judging by the smell, beneath the passenger seat.

When questioned regarding the bottle, both deputies denied knowledge of it.

Deputy Pike then stated it may have been “evidence.”

Deputy Greaves stated it may have been “there before.”

The vapors remaining in the bottle smelled fresh.

At approximately 11:52 p.m., the suspect vehicle turned off Mill Road onto an unmarked logging track. The deputies attempted to follow but became stuck in soft ground near Harlan’s cranberry bog.

The truck was last seen continuing west, tailgate rattling, with the alleged animal cage still secured in the rear.

Deputy Greaves states the creature “waved one wing at us.”

Deputy Pike disputes this, stating it was “more of a mocking flap.”

Neither description is useful.

Upon returning to the station at 1:17 a.m., the deputies submitted their account verbally before producing a written statement.

Both men smelled strongly of alcohol.

Deputy Greaves claimed this was due to “confiscated vapors.” Deputy Pike claimed exposure occurred when a jug shattered during pursuit, though no broken glass was recovered from the patrol car.

Their written report contains the following sentence:

“The devil beast was plainly sitting proud upon the liquor like a goblin king of unlawful refreshment.”

This sentence has been preserved for disciplinary review.

My assessment is as follows:

It is plausible that Deputies Pike and Greaves encountered a bootleg transport vehicle operating between rural still sites and coastal distribution routes.

It is further plausible that the operator was a young woman known locally for aiding academic parties, traveling naturalists, or other suspiciously educated persons in and out of the pine roads.

It is not impossible that a live animal was present in the truck bed.

It is, however, my professional opinion that the details regarding a winged horse-faced devil juvenile were either:

-the result of intoxication,

-a deliberate embellishment to excuse failure to apprehend the suspect,

-an attempted cover for accepting contraband liquor,

-or some combination of the above.

I am not prepared to list “Jersey Devil” as an accomplice in a county report.

Actions Taken:

-Deputies Pike and Greaves relieved of night patrol duty pending review.

-Patrol car ordered cleaned and inspected.

-Local farms asked to report missing goats, calves, or the appearance of unusual animals.

-Area stills to be watched more closely.

-No warrant issued for “devil beast,” despite Deputy Pike’s recommendation.

Sheriff’s Closing Note:

Should this young woman be identified, she is to be questioned regarding liquor transport, reckless driving, and unlawful possession of livestock.

Should the alleged animal be identified, it is to be left alone until daylight and approached by someone other than Pike or Greaves.

Filed under protest,

Sheriff H. R. Bellweather

Cumberland County Sheriff’s Office

Postscript, private:

If either deputy returns from patrol with another bottle of “evidence,” I will lock both of them in the drunk tank and let the devil take statements.

Editor's Note:

On the back of the attached photograph, in handwriting similar to Evelyn Marlowe's, is a note stating that 'I offered to do a favor for the shinners that caught the poor little thing getting into their corn mash if they let us take him into custody. The risk was minimal, local law enforcement are easy to bribe with a few jugs of high end product and easier to scare with a cute little fella in a cage!'

Fun Fact: Napoleon Bonaparte's brother claimed to have encountered this little guy

As always, modern electronic article found here: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jersey\_Devil

Modern electronic article found here: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Krasue

The 'Frontiers' article goes for a more 'scientific' explanation vs the Mythic articles implied magic.

By popular request I Finally got the Anatomy of a Chupa-thingy. As always modern electronic article found here: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chupacabra

Excerpt from Evelyn Marlowe’s Field Journal
Rocky Mountains Expedition
Wyoming
March 17th, 1922
Recovered with soot staining, grease marks, and one dried smear later identified as chokecherry preserve.

I have been told by the Naturalist that I am “no longer permitted to forage alone after dusk,” which seems unreasonable, as dusk is precisely when the interesting things begin behaving honestly.

Tonight’s supper was an improvisation, though a successful one.

The creature was not a proper jackalope, I think, but one of the smaller upland varieties. Younger, perhaps, or simply underfed after the winter. Its antlers had not yet branched fully and were more like little polished twigs, though very sharp when one is not being careful.

Cause of death: unfortunate collision with our supply crate after attempting to steal oats.

I maintain this does not count as hunting.

Miss Marlowe’s Campfire Jackalope Stew
(for cold nights, difficult professors, and morale restoration)

First, clean the animal as one would a hare, though with greater caution around the horn buds and skull. The glands behind the jaw must be removed at once, unless one wishes the broth to taste like wet leather and hemlock.

Save the bones if possible. Dr. Langford says we require them for comparative study. I told him bones do better work after soup.

Brown the meat in bacon fat if available. If not, butter will do. If neither is available, complain loudly until someone remembers where the bacon fat has been hidden.

Add:

• one onion, roughly chopped
• two carrots, if not frozen
• three potatoes, diced small
• a handful of dried mushrooms
• cracked pepper
• salt
• sage, but not too much
• one bay leaf
• a spoonful of flour for thickening
• coffee, just a splash, if the meat smells too wild
• water enough to cover

Simmer until the meat loosens from the bone and the potatoes surrender.

If one has dried chokecherries, add a few near the end. This was a risk, but a good one. It gives the stew a dark little sweetness and makes the broth taste less like something that kicked its way out of folklore.

Important Notes

Do not let the antlers fall into the pot. They soften unpleasantly and make everyone suspicious.

Do not tell visiting biologists what they are eating until after they have complimented it.

Do not allow Mr. Pembroke to season anything. He believes paprika is “continental excess.”

Do not give any to the camp dog unless prepared for consequences. The dog has been staring at the moon for twenty minutes and may now be engaged.

The Naturalist asked whether I found it ethically troubling to consume a specimen.

I asked whether he found it ethically troubling to eat trout.

He said trout do not sometimes whistle one’s name from the scrub.

I conceded the point.

Still, the stew was excellent.

Even he had two bowls.

Taste: rich, gamey, slightly mineral.
Texture: between rabbit and goat, depending on age.
Recommended pairing: black coffee, hard bread, and not asking too many questions.
Scientific value: moderate.
Morale value: exceptional.

Final conclusion: jackalope is best approached cautiously, prepared respectfully, and served hot.

**Reminder**: Thank the visiting biologist for loaning the bottle of sauce.

P.S. Something outside the tent just made the same whistle.

This, somewhat, complicates supper.

The above recoding is a song from Evelyn Marlowe, the Assistant to the entity known as the Naturalist. The song is the only known recording of hers describing an encounter with Will-O'-the-Wisps.

The song does not appear to corroborate the encounter in October of 1969 and may, in fact, be an earlier encounter.

Evelyn Marlowe was known to sing around the expedition's campfires as a graduate student but, to date, this is the only known recording of her.

When questioned today Dr. Marlowe will only comment, "There isn't enough Bourbon in the Commonwealth of Kentucky to get me to sing again."

Once again, not all cryptids can be half naked beautiful women who will eat your liver... some are fluffy, defenseless, and cute little bunnies!

Modern electronic article found here: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jackalope

If you've got a local cryptid you want to see let me know and I'll dig through my collection of the Frontiers of Natural History and see if the Entity known as the 'Naturalist' has came across it.

My collection of records is incomplete, disorganized, and, at times, contradictory so bear with me.

Above: A full body photograph ove the 'Fen's Lights' incident and a close up of the Naturalist’s assistant. It is unclear weather this is two separate images or a close crop of one image as some of the negative rolls are missing segments yet show no clear signs of tampering.

The following is an Exerpt from the Marlowe Expedition records for the Autumn of 1969:

**Excerpt from Field Notebook 7F**

**Marlowe Expedition, The Fens, Cambridgeshire**

**October 23rd, 1969**

Recovered from the Fenland Survey Materials, Nova Academia Archive

Several pages preceding the developed film are stiff with peat-water and exhibit faint blue-white scorching along the outer edges. The marks do not correspond to flame, chemical exposure, or any known lantern fuel. The film shows no sign of damage, mundane or otherwise.

The incident began with a local warning, which Miss Marlowe heard clearly, recorded accurately, and then interpreted in the least useful possible manner.

The warning was simple:

“If the light waits for you, do not follow.”

Miss Marlowe underlined this sentence twice in her notes.

This has been presented by some reviewers as evidence that she understood the danger.

The Naturalist’s marginal correction reads:

No. She mistook it for an invitation.

The expedition had come to the Fens to document a series of luminous nocturnal phenomena reported above the flooded reed-beds east of the old peat road. The lights were said to appear only after full dark, hovering low over the black water, sometimes singly, sometimes in clusters. Several local accounts insisted that the lights “counted footsteps,” retreating only when pursued and approaching only when ignored.

At 20:31 hours, a single blue-white emission appeared beyond the reed line.

At 20:44, a second appeared.

At 20:57, Miss Marlowe quietly left the observation blind with her camera, field notebook, and three biscuits wrapped in wax paper.

When questioned later as to the purpose of the biscuits, she replied:

“I didn’t know what they ate.”

By 21:06, the Naturalist noticed her absence.

By 21:09, he found her tracks leaving the blind.

By 21:12, the tracks stopped at the edge of open water.

This was considered alarming, as Miss Marlowe was still visible approximately thirty yards beyond that point, standing upright in a section of marsh that should not have supported her weight.

She later insisted the ground had been firm when she stepped onto it.

No corroborating evidence was found.

The will-o’-the-wisp remained above her, approximately five to seven meters overhead, descending by small increments whenever she looked away and rising whenever she looked directly at it. This behavior continued for several minutes.

Miss Marlowe’s spoken observations, recorded faintly on the expedition’s open reel equipment, include the following:

“It isn’t drifting down on a current.”

“It knows where I’m looking.”

“There are more of them in the reflection than in the sky.”

“That is probably important.”

The photograph was taken moments after this last statement.

Her expression was later described by Dr. Pembroke as “wonder without sufficient dread.”

The most troubling detail concerns the reflections visible in her lenses. Eight luminous points can be counted in the reflection in Miss Marlowe's glasses.

Only two lights were visible to obsevers at the time. More were only revealed in the photograph once developed but would have been outside Miss Marlowe’s field of vision. It is unclear how she knew of the multiple reflections and when asked Miss Marlowe could not recall.

The Naturalist’s notes become unusually sparse here.

One line remains legible:

She is looking at something above her. I am increasingly certain it is looking back.

At 21:17 hours, Miss Marlowe raised one hand toward the light.

At 21:18, all visible wisps extinguished simultaneously.

At 21:19, she was found kneeling in shallow water beside the peat pool, unharmed, laughing softly, and holding one of the wax-paper biscuits intact.

She claimed the entity had “declined politely.”

No one asked how she knew.

What? Cryptids can't all be half naked women... Modern electronic article found here: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Will-o%27-the-wisp

Excerpt from Supplemental Field Notes

Recovered from Expedition Notebook 4B

(Isan Region, Siam, July 1954)

Several pages exhibit water damage, smoke staining, and what laboratory analysis later identified as partially digested mangosteen.

The situation began, predictably, with Miss Marlowe ignoring instructions.

Local villagers had reported nocturnal lights moving above the canals beyond the stilt settlements. Livestock had gone missing. One fisherman reportedly suffered bites and severe epidermal nacrosis along the shoulders after “looking upward when told not to by the village elder.”

The Naturalist elected to observe from a distance until more information could be gathered.

Miss Marlowe elected otherwise.

At approximately 21:13 hours, she departed camp carrying:

One field camera

One notebook

Two lantern batteries

A bag of fruit “in case it’s intelligent”

And, inexplicably, a length of fishing line

Her stated reasoning, recorded later:

“If it’s curious, I didn’t want our first interaction to be rude.”

Initial contact appears to have occurred near the southern walkways of Ban Nong Khai.

Witness testimony differs slightly, though all accounts agree on the following sequence:

Miss Marlowe observed an airborne entity later identified as a Krasue.

Rather than retreat, she attempted communication.

The entity descended.

Miss Marlowe, by her own admission, described it as:

“Actually kind of beautiful in a horrifying way.”

At this point, the encounter might still have remained non-hostile.

Unfortunately, she then attempted to photograph it using flash equipment.

The resulting reaction was immediate.

The Krasue reportedly emitted a vocalization described by villagers as “the sound a passed out drunkard made when he wakes up much too close to the fire.”

It then accelerated toward the Assistant at alarming speed.

Miss Marlowe fled.

The photograph above was taken approximately eleven seconds later by the Naturalist, using a telephoto lens just before running.

Notably, despite active pursuit by a carnivorous floating viscera apparition, the Assistant still retained possession of:

her notebook,

the camera,

and the fruit bag.

The lantern batteries were sacrificed to the canal.

Subsequent notes from the Naturalist become increasingly difficult to decipher due to aggressive pencil pressure, though one passage remains legible:

"I am beginning to suspect Miss Marlowe genuinely cannot distinguish between ‘discovery’ and ‘provoking the supernatural.’”

Miss Marlowe’s own closing remarks on the incident appear at the bottom of the page:

“GOOD NEWS: very fast.

BAD NEWS: very fast.”

As always, modern electronic article found here: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yuki-onna

Editor's Note: The following letter was addressed to Lillian Callaway, then a graduate student at Nova Academia, who would later earn her doctorate in Cryptozoological Anthropology. It was made public in July 1986 as part of the internal Nova Academia investigation into the disappearance of the entity formally known as 'The Naturalist'. The letter was written by Evelyn Marlowe, the field assistant to The Naturalist.

It was released to public record as it had been determined to have no relation to the disappearance of The Naturalist.

August 19th, 1964

Northern Marshlands (you would hate it here the ankle-deep mud and everything smells alive)

Dear Lillian,

I was going to write to you about basket-weaving techniques.

That was the plan.

Very respectable. Very academic. Something you could cite without raising an eyebrow in seminar.

Unfortunately, something else has… occurred.

You remember how we joked that if we ever encountered a fully socialized slime colony, the real breakthrough wouldn’t be their structure, but whether they felt anything? Whether there was interiority beneath all that shifting translucence?

Well.

There is.

And I have made the catastrophic methodological error of finding out in the least objective way possible.

---

We located them along a slow, reed-choked riverbank—small communal structures, woven huts, everything damp but deliberate. They are not amorphous, not truly. Each individual maintains a consistent silhouette, a kind of preferred “self,” though it softens at the edges like breath on glass.

At first, I thought their motions were purely functional, gathering, sorting shells, and tending small fires. But then one of them looked up.

Not at me.

To me.

I do not know how else to phrase it.

Her form (I am confident in the designation, though “sex” remaian... unclear) was more defined than the others. Slightly taller. The surface of her body caught the light in a way that made it difficult to tell where reflection ended and expression began.

She approached without hesitation.

The Naturalist, of course, told me not to move. Which I ignored immediately.

---

Contact was... not unpleasant.

Before you jump to conclusions, no, I did not do anything reckless (by my standards). I extended a hand. She mirrored it. There was a moment... this pause—as if she were deciding something.

Then she touched my fingers.

Lillian, it was warm.

Not like flesh. Not like water either. Something in between. Responsive. She adjusted her form around my hand as though learning it.

I laughed. I couldn’t help it. She... shifted, I think. The upper portion of her form altered, not structurally, but... expressively? The closest comparison I have is a smile, though there were no fixed features to confirm it.

I have since observed her watching me when she thinks I am occupied.

I say “she” again. I know. I can hear you correcting me already.

---

Here is where the situation becomes professionally indefensible.

She has begun bringing me things.

Small objects. Shells. Polished stones. Once, a bundle of reeds tied, quite badly, into something that might have been an imitation of the baskets they weave. It fell apart immediately. She seemed... distressed. I showed her how to bind it more tightly. She tried again.

Successfully.

I may have praised her.

Out loud.

In front of the entire colony.

The Naturalist has not stopped staring at me since.

---

I am attempting to frame this as reciprocal behavioral study. Gift exchange, mimicry, emergent social bonding... there are frameworks, I promise you, I am trying.

But none of them account for the way I find myself looking for her first, every time we approach the river.

Or how she positions herself slightly closer when I sit.

Or how, yesterday, she adjusted the shape of her hand, very carefully, to match mine again, without prompting.

---

I am aware of how this sounds.

I am also aware that if I include even half of this in my formal notes, I will either be reassigned or institutionalized.

So I am telling you instead.

Because you once said that the most important discoveries are the ones that make us uncomfortable.

And I am, Lillian.

Very.

Because I think, no I am increasingly certain, that whatever she is... she is not just reacting.

She is choosing.

---

The Naturalist has begun using the phrase “pattern of behavior” in a tone I do not appreciate.

He also confiscated my sketchbook yesterday, citing “bias contamination.”

I retrieved it.

She helped.

(Do not ask how. I am still working that out.)

---

If this is a mistake, it is a remarkably gentle one.

If it is not...

Then I may have just found the first instance of cross-species affection in a gelatinous semi-fluid organism.

And I do not know whether to be thrilled, terrified, or very, very quiet about it.

---

Write back soon.

Preferably with a convincing argument for why this is not what I think it is.

I suspect I will ignore it, but I would like to read it anyway.

-Evelyn

P.S. She likes smooth stones best. I have started collecting them. For research purposes. Obviously.

The Dominican fresh water Siren. Modern electronic article found here https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ciguapa

Note: While obscured from view in the above image, the Ciguapa has feet that face backwards from a normal humaniod. It is believed that this is used to confuse and evade trackers.

Frontiers of Natural History

Plate XLII — 1938

Field Incident: Unauthorized Extraction of Juvenile Huli Jing

(Vulpes mysticus sinensis, provisional classification)

Shanxi Province, Northern China

September 3rd, 1938

Field Observation

The above image, recovered from a damaged roll of color film, captures Assistant Evelyn Marlowe in active retreat following what can only be described as an unsanctioned intervention.

The specimen secured in her possession, a juvenile Huli Jing, had reportedly been held in temporary confinement by Imperial Japanese forces, acting under the authority of the Kempeitai, pending transfer to a Unit 731 research facility in Harbin. While the intended nature of said research remains unconfirmed, contextual evidence suggests outcomes incompatible with continued specimen viability.

Miss Marlowe appears to have reached a similar conclusion.

Event Summary

Eyewitness accounts (including the Naturalist, who was at the time attempting to negotiate passage out of the region) indicate that the Assistant deviated from agreed routes upon discovering the containment site.

Within approximately six minutes:

IJA controlled railyard was breached

One containment crate was forcibly opened

One juvenile specimen, with cage, was removed

Three armed personnel were alerted

One field assistant initiated immediate flight

The photograph records the midpoint of this sequence.

Specimen Notes

The juvenile Huli Jing exhibits early morphological markers consistent with higher-order fox spirits:

Pale fur, atypical for regional red fox populations

Ocular reflectivity under daylight conditions

Unusual calm under transport stress

Of particular note: the specimen remains oriented toward Miss Marlowe despite active pursuit, suggesting either imprinting behavior or an emergent affiliative response.

Behavioral Analysis (Assistant)

Miss Marlowe demonstrates the following:

Protective Response Override: Prioritization of specimen safety over personal survival

Improvised Extraction Tactics: Lacking in planning, but effective in execution

Sustained Locomotion Under Stress: Estimated sprint duration exceeds prior recorded limits

It is worth noting that she elected to retain the specimen rather than release it, citing (later) that it was 'too small to fend for itself.'

Notes & Speculations

This incident marks the first documented case of direct human intervention preventing the transfer of a cryptid specimen into military research custody.

The long-term consequences of such interference remain unknown.

The Naturalist’s accompanying notes consist primarily of underlined exclamations not fit for public reprint and a single legible sentence:

“We are now fugitives.”

Addendum (Later Entry, Undated):

The juvenile was not recovered by pursuing forces. Subsequent sightings suggest it remained in proximity to the Assistant for an extended period following extraction.

“There are moments in the field where observation ceases to be sufficient. Miss Marlowe has an unfortunate instinct for finding them.”

-The Naturalist

Modern electronic article found here: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nixie\_(folklore)

u/TinkouWasHere..

I think I found something that belongs to you.

- Assistant to the Naturalalist