Southwark
View allAll Photos Tagged stomp
Details:
Body:
Head: Lelutka Paxton
Body: [LEGACY] Meshbody (m) (1.2)
Hairbase: -[CL]- Hair Base EVO X #004
Accessories:
Bracelets: ROZOREGALIA_NARUSAZA*BRACELET MAN CAVE
Rings: L'Emporio&PL::*Dedalus*:: Leather Rings MAN CAVE
Earrings: RichB. Johan Earrings (wear) MAN CAVE
Clothes:
Outfit: GASET - HUGO OUTFIT ACCESS
Shoes: [ VERSOV ] DOXOV
Backdrop: .PALETO. Backdrop:. Detroit Streets
Pose: CKEY Poses - Gabriel series MAN CAVE
We drove up to Sacramento National Wildlife Refuge and didn’t have very high expectations. This being the end of Summer, most wildlife has flown to greener pastures. As we were driving through the auto tour, we spotted this young deer with its mother. They were enjoying the sun and munching on the vegetation. The youngster watched us for a minute then started stomping its hooves as though to scare us off.
pose Amitie Paris Rooftops For Us 1 used on the ground level of Sunny's studio
Thank you Miguel, this was fun to make
Ontario Red Squirrel ... An Artistic oil paint portrait version of my little buddy "Red" who shows up to my backyard from our local park.
Edited with a white matte frame.
Nobody has ever described a red squirrel as laid-back and casual. They seem to live with the accelerator nailed to the floor, zipping around trees and through branches with blinding speed.
Nor are they the fast but silent type. They may be the smallest squirrels in Ontario, but they don’t seem to know that. Any black squirrel that is perceived as an intruder will be chased away in a flurry of chattering and squeaking, every sound accompanied by a stomping of tiny feet and a flick of the tail. The same goes for gray jays and other Ontario birds, small dogs, and even owls: anything that might pose a threat is chased away.
That’s just standard red squirrel behaviour. And come spring, they ramp that up a few notches.
Thank you so much for many many kind faves and, warm comment to all.
I'm very sorry again late post,,,
My RL work office far moved at last week, so I will post on an irregular basis maybe (´･ω･`)
but, I will trying to post to Flickr,,,
【memo】
@Dubai
maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Horizon%20Beach/50/199/22
DIRTY PRINCESS- Lolita Stomper Princess Boots w/Hud 21 Colors
👍DIRTY PRINCESS Mainstore
maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Dirty%20Princess/109/189/22
@Mainsotre
*ARGRACE* Sarah - Blondes (All Hair L$100 sale on now)
👍*ARGRACE* Mainsore
maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/shin%20zushi/150/161/26
*:..Silvery K..:*Sweet Kimono(FatPack)
.tsg. Shy Megane - White
@MP
FAT *{( konpeitou )}* rose hatter
---
*::.who what.::* -Halloween parasol- 11.Wicked Witch
♬Today's Tune♬
（Sorry Japanese only）
An angry male red-winged blackbird is hitting and stomping on a crow in a (successful) attempt to chase it away ✔️
His hackles up, Gary the green heron stomped his foot in frustration. “Why don’t they understand?!?” The heron world can be so cruel!
➡️Ghoul - Goatea Sweater
Available @ Fameshed
Start Date: September 1, 2023
End Date: September 27, 2023
💠17 color options via Hud.
💠Sizes: Ebody Reborn, Waifu, Maitreya, Legacy, Perky, with underboob cut.
💠2 Sleeve options - Normal and with net.
➡️My Blog
➡️Wearing:
💠Boots By: SEKA's Cyberlita Stomper
💠Hair By: VCO ~ SHUAH
💠Guitar By: Le Mont - Cyberpunk
As per The New Christie Minstrels' version of Tiptoe Through The Tulips, this bee is not wasting any time tiptoeing in this nasturtium.
[seeker] Ziva
Top & Choker
Support : LaraX-PetiteX . Legacy-Perky-Petite . Reborn-Waifu
HUD : 16 colors . 8 prints . 8 stripes . mix-match ability . Choker On-Off
copy/modify for FatPack only
Mainstore: maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Taejin/198/93/2003
Meva Chunky Boots Blogger Box [Wear Me]
Compatible with Maitreya X, Maitreya Lara, Legacy Classic, & Reborn
2K Classic Textures Hud - Materials Enabled
Ouh Lala:
maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Ouh%20Lala/153/89/1982
Meva Mainstore: maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Manifesto/230/94/1502
Hexed - Passion Thigh-High Socks BOM ONLY
12 Colors (Black, White, Blue, Baby Blue, Emerald, Green, Red, Fuxia, Pink, Purple, Lilac, & Orange)
Unisex - BOM Only
Exclusive @ FameshedX Open 10th February
maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/FaMESHed%20X/104/181/699
Mainstore Taxi : maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Hastings%20Manor/209/45/2048
For me, a little new snow means a lot of new fun.
My ball never gets away from me now. Last winter I lost (we found one of them again in the spring) two of these orange street-hockey balls in deep snow; this year, none yet.
Prescott-Russell Trail, Ottawa, Ontario
269. Clancy, 4yrs 12wks
Clancy's YEARBOOK 5: www.flickr.com/photos/130722340@N04/albums/72157675110790161
─────────────⛧. S ᴘ ᴏ ɴ s ᴏ ʀ ᴇ ᴅ .⛧─────────────
Ҳ Diaboli Design - Ravager Boots - @ Diaboli Design Mainstore
─────────────⛧. Dᴇᴠɪʟ Aɴᴀᴛᴏᴍʏ.⛧─────────────
Ҳ [BODY] Legacy Athletic
Ҳ [HEAD] Lelutka: Paxton
Ҳ [EARS] ^^Swallow^^ Gauged XL Ears
Ҳ [SKIN] Not Found
Ҳ [HAIRBASE] Volkstone
A young White-tailed Deer (Odocoileus virginianus) buck in a south Texas mesquite savanna. Willacy County, Texas.
NS 8103, the N&W Heritage Unit, leads empty coal train NS 813 westbound into Roanoke, Virginia, as it passes the old N&W shops.
In my dreams, I do not *tread* lightly. I *stomp* out senseless violence. Peaceful protestors executed on the streets of Tehran and Minneapolis. What's next?
This is my 5th build for Round 3 of #IronForge2026. It uses 15 seed parts.
This round of The Men Jail we are excited to bring to you the UTILITY Stompers!
The Utility Stompers carry a classic silhouette with a modern, trendy twist with special branding identified with the BETRAYAL brand.
The Utility Stompers are UNISEX rigged for Jake, Gianni, Maitreya & Hourglass with an unrigged version. These come in 4 colors and 2 as a bonus in the SUPER discounted Fatpack.
Come by The Men Jail today and try yours :D
Giant Swallowtail butterfly taking nectar from a butterfly-bush floret.
Common for the season.
22-September 2022: www.flickr.com/photos/michaelina2/52375338541/in/explore-...
I like running in the fall. It means cooler temps. It means rain. It means mud. And it means splashing along the trail. All things your mom told you not to do as a kid.
In my day the only AI I knew was "Artificial Insemination"....for cows. Now it stands for bullshit stories.
Now, Strontian’s a quiet enough wee place, tucked between the mountains and the loch, where the mist rolls down like a sigh from the hills. But it wasn’t quiet the weekend Brad the Bull took the huff.
Brad was a grand beast — black as peat, broad as a boat, and with a temper that could curdle cream. He belonged to Maureen MacGuinness, crofter, knitter of questionable jumpers, and wielder of words that could melt the varnish off a church pew. For years, Brad had strutted about Maureen’s croft like he was king of Ardgour itself — and maybe he was, in his own hooved head.
But one spring morning, the livestock inspector came round with a clipboard and a smirk and said,
“Maureen, regulations are regulations. Brad’s not to sire any more calves this season. Something about... lineage management.”
Well, Maureen took it in stride — but Brad didn’t. His great shaggy head drooped, his horns glinted with indignation, and his bellow echoed off the braes like thunder looking for trouble. Before anyone could stop him, he’d turned tail and stomped off into the Ariundle oakwoods, breaking a fence or three just to make a point.
Maureen, standing by the river with her apron flapping in the wind, cupped her hands and shouted up the glen:
“Brad MacBovidae, you stubborn lump of muscle! If you don’t come home by seven o’clock tonight, I’ll turn you to granite and moss, so help me!”
Now, anyone else might’ve thought twice — Maureen was known to dabble in what she called “practical enchantment” (and what others called “odd things with peat ash and moonlight”). But Brad? He just snorted. He was a bull, after all. What did bulls care for witchy words and bedtime threats?
So he wandered deeper into the woods, grumbling to himself about injustice and cows and the general unfairness of human meddling. The oaks closed around him, whispering secrets older than crofting itself. Evening came, the sun bled gold over the loch, and Maureen’s words began to hum in the air like midges at dusk.
At exactly seven o’clock — give or take a moo — the forest went still. A wind rose, strange and low, and Brad froze mid-step, his eyes wide, his breath caught. His hooves rooted into the earth. His hide turned cold and hard. Moss crept over him, soft and green. By dawn, where once stood the proudest bull in Lochaber, there was only a shape of stone — proud, defiant, and staring forever toward the hills he’d never climb.
Locals still point him out on walks through Ariundle, half-hidden among the oaks, his horns like grey crescents in the lichen. Some say if you stand there at sunset, you can still hear him snort — a gust of wind through moss and myth.
And so, when the old wives tell their tales by the fire, they always end with a wink and a warning:
“Mind your manners and your Maureens, or you’ll end up like Brad the Bull — too proud to listen, and too stony to complain. Do you see him, covered in moss on the left?