Revenge of the Hufflepuffs

So, Aberystwyth was voted the #1 safest town in all of Britain!!!


This fact makes my behaviour in this story make a little more sense.


So today we found out that, keeping with my tradition of horrible July's, our flat has been sold, and we have our notice. As both my flatmate & I were freaking out about moving in the midst of thesizing/disserting, I decided to go for a nice run (after, of course, Oreos and a quick Smallville marathon). It was about 9ish at this point, but again--safe--and also, still really light out. After wandering around a bit, I decided to go down a nice, paved, fairly well-used thoroughfare, when I more or less accidentally started climbing the semi-forested hill up to a local monument. A quarter of the way up, I saw what looked like a skunk scuddling off the path, but remembering that there aren't supposed to be skunks in the UK, and after a quick prayer of "Please Lord, don't let me get sprayed by a skunk. Or get poison oak. Other than that, I'm good", I moved on.

After reaching the top (the view might actually be better in the dusk because then you can see all the town lights), I decided to go down the other way because it had a wider path, and a wider berth from the probably-badger (side note: everything I know about badgers I have learned from Harry Potter/Pottermore, but I do know that they're black and white, live in the UK, are brave, loyal, and absolutely savage). About halfway down I turned from the open path into the forest section, at which point I remembered that: a) that part's completely overhung with foliage, leading to b) the ground is rather wet and slippery there, not to mention, c) the right side of the path drops off sharply, and finally d) it's on the East side of the hill. But, as I was already so far down, and since, by the time I hiked back up it would be dark on that side too, I plunged ahead (also because I'm not always terribly bright. Let's not forget that either).

Allow me to paint a proverbial picture: before long, I'm more or less shuffling down the path to keep from sliding on the mud, and only stepping on gravel, because that's the only part of the walkway that I can see clearly. Being either in that atmosphere, or just being my mother's child, I start singing. For reasons I'm not entirely sure of, I sing Gershwin. In the midst of a chorus of "Someone to Watch Over Me", I hear someone coming up the path, and am a little embarrassed, because I'm singin' Gershwin while baby-stepping. But, for maybe the first time in my life, I'm also a little relieved to have someone interrupt my forest-walking, and even better, I realize that it's probably a nice couple, because they have a dog with them! Until I realize that there's no people, and that that is NOT a dog.

It's a badger.


It was two badgers actually. And both of them were charging straight for me. The path dropped off to my right, and there's no way I could've outrun them, even if there weren't a morass all around me. Briefly assessing my options, I figured that if they were attacking as a pack, "shock and awe" probably wasn't going to cut it. I had a flash of how bloody my legs were going to be, and that this was definitely going to end in the hospital (I also had the good sense to judge myself for my previous prayer, and the limitations thereof). So I decided all I could do was kick the first one in the head really hard, and deal with the second one later.

Sadly for the climax of this story, but happily for my legs, they pulled up short about three feet from me, at which point the one in front utilised the pause to attack the one behind it. Still, I'm going to find comfort in knowing that, when facing real fear, I'm gonna fight. Besides, there's something immensely satisfying at being able to say "I was charged by two wild badgers tonight". Because if nothing else, it means that my life will never get less weird.