College Crow, Semester 1, 2022 by PLC Sydney

COLLEGE CROW PLC Sydney's Student Magazine | Semester 1, 2022

The Natural World

Contents From the Editors After Unbinding Precipitous A Journey Back in Time to Alishan reflection Sometimes, I Dream of Hope The Wonderful World of Fungi Request for a Plant Nature Myths Phases of Hypnos The Winds Wish For Love Hoa Sen A Sneak Peek into SEED The Camphor Laurel Tree Cryptic Crossword The Daily Bull Deadly Plants Flowers to Give to Your Enemy The Onion Family vs The Forces of Mother Nature Year 7 Comic Corner Fibs Greek Goddess Interview Love Book Recommendations Corner Cryptic Crossword Solution The MBTI Foodchain Here I Lay Hydrangeas Bloom, Wither, Repeat Happily Ever After

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© Copyright 2022, Presbyterian Ladies’ College, Sydney. Editors: Annika Johansson and Imogen Sabey (Year 12 Publications C0-Captains). Assistant Editors: Jocelyn Arkapaw (Year 10), Anshita Baijal (Year 10), Priya Bhadri (Year 8), Noa Blum (Year 9), Alyssa Chang (Year 9), Nancy Chen (Year 8), Stephanie Chew (Year 9), Natasha Chuan (Year 10), Grace Du (Year 11), Alison Fang (Year 10), Amy Feng (Year 11), Sophie Graham (Year 9), Chloe He (Year 8), Isabelle Ho Shon (Year 10), Jasmine Huang (Year 8), Natalie Iacullo (Year 11), Aileen Kim (Year 10), Olivia Low (Year 12), Ruby Mills (Year 8), Abigail Ong (Year 10), Sasha Prokhorov (Year 10), Claire Van (Year 10), Emma Yang (Year 11), Emily Ye (Year 11), Jacqueline Yu (Year 10), Katherine Zhang (Year 12). Honorary Assistant Editors: Mr Sinclair and Mr Trimble for the Cryptic Crossword. Assistant Design/Layout: Alison Fang (Year 10), Amy Feng (Year 11), Aileen Huang (Year 9), Jasmine Huang (Year 8), Natalie Iacullo (Year 11), Lia Koulias (Year 8), Sahana Kumar (Year 7), Isabella Loo (Year 9), Olivia Low (Year 12), Euna Oh (Year 9), Abigail Ong (Year 10), Sasha Prokhorov (Year 10), Reina Shi (Year 9), Emily Ye (Year 11), Tanika Young (Year 9), Katherine Zhang (Year 12), Yvonne Zhao (Year 12). Staff Coordinator: Ms Kathryn Munro. College Crow Committee: Jocelyn Arkapaw (Year 10), Emma Badger (Year 7), Isabelle Badger (Year 10), Anshita Baijal (Year 10), Priyanka (Priya) Bhadri (Year 8), Noa Blum (Year 9), Molly Campbell (Year 8), Lumbini (Lulu) Catalano (Year 8), Olivia Chan (Year 10), Alyssa Chang (Year 9), Nancy Chen (Year 8), Stephanie Chew (Year 9), Yilan Chow (Year 9), Natasha Chuan (Year 10), Emily Doust (Year 8), Grace Du (Year 11), Alison Fang (Year 10), Yuqing (Amy) Feng (Year 11), Jasmine Gifford (Year 9), Sophie Graham (Year 9), Johanna Grogan (Year 7), Chloe He (Year 8), Isabelle Ho Shon (Year 10), Aileen Huang (Year 9), Jasmine Huang (Year 8), Xinran (Ruby) Huang (Year 9), Natalie Iacullo (Year 11), Annika Johansson (Year 12), Emelie (M) Johansson (Year 10), Sophia Kelleher (Year 8), Aileen Kim (Year 10), Kate Kim (Year 10), Zoe Kopczyk (Year 10), Evangelia (Lia) Koulias (Year 8), Sahana Kumar (Year 7), Kristine Liu (Year 9), Isabella Loo (Year 9), Olivia Low (Year 12), Sophia Miller (Year 9), Ruby Mills (Year 8), Anastasia Mouzos (Year 8), Do Quyen (Quyen) Nguyen (Year 7), Vivi Nguyen (Year 12), Euna Oh (Year 9), Abigail Ong (Year 10), Tansy (Ad) Pham (Year 12), Ruby Phoon (Year 10), Alexandra (Sasha) Prokhorov (Year 10), Anastasia Prokhorov (Year 10), Yolanda Qiao (Year 9), Alaina Ray (Year 8), Chiara Saad (Year 7), Imogen Sabey (Year 12), Reina Shi (Year 9), Jae Won (Elizabeth) Song (Year 9), Lily Summer (Year 7), Eshwari Surendran (Year 11), Claire Van (Year 10), Anna Wang (Year 10), Carolyn Wang (Year 10), Cindy Wang (Year 9), Paloma White (Year 10), Mimi Williams (Year 10), Iris Xu (Year 11), Jiayi (Emma) Yang (Year 11), Emily Ye (Year 11), Tanika Young (Year 9), Jacqueline Yu (Year 10), Cathy Zeng (Year 9), Katherine Zhang (Year 12), Yvonne Zhao (Year 12). Front cover illustration: Yilan Chow (Year 9). Back cover illustration: Isabella Loo (Year 9). Stock images: Pages 34–35 Frames created by rawpixel.com / Freepik.com. Pages 36–38 Parchment background created by kjpargeter / Freepik.com. Other elements throughout magazine provided through Canva.

Check out College Crow online: PLACES / College Crow Tile

From the Editors Some thoughts from our 2021–2022 Publications Co-Captains, Annika Johansson and Imogen Sabey.

Honestly, I have no idea what to write on this page. I think there’s so much that I need to show my gratitude for, stuff that goes on behind the scenes that even I don’t see. I think I need to truly stop and thank every girl who worked on the magazine. You moved me with your words, and amazed me with your art and designs. I’m mostly thankful for the little moments you girls spent at home, mulling over your pieces wondering how you can say or draw what your brain wants while I hassle you about deadlines. I see those moments, and I’m so grateful for them. You all try so hard, and it shows in your work. Keep writing, designing and illustrating, your efforts will take you so far. ‘The Natural World’ is such an interesting theme for this semester’s issue. There was lots of room for the girls to explore aspects of our earth and her gifts, and I personally think the magazine is brimming with beautiful, expressive ideas that are united under this theme. Ms Munro, Imogen and I are so inspired by everyone’s pieces, and speaking of, I have to say how inspired I am by them: Ms Munro and Imogen, I’ll miss you so much, thank you for everything. For my final moments at PLC Sydney, I hope everyone can find something in this semester’s College Crow issue that connects you with the natural world, whether it be one of the many lovely pieces by our budding writers and poets, or any visuals by our designers and illustrators that astound you. We hope you enjoy. ~ Annika ~

I can confidently say that out of all the Publications Captains, Annika and I have had the least amount of time in College Crow meetings. Half of last semester, we spent online, the other half we couldn’t interact with other year groups. Even this semester we’ve only been able to attend half the meetings because of a lunch lesson clash. So we’ve both been working online and behind the scenes to send seemingly countless emails, setting deadlines and following up on people. The tricky thing is this: if you can’t see the girls you’re talking to, if you only get to see a small number of them for such a brief time each fortnight, how on earth could you hope to convey the enormity of your pride and gratitude for what they have achieved in their work? In the end, what I see - and what every reader sees - is the work, the finished product that came by so many people putting effort in so that every page was beautifully written, illustrated, edited, designed. It is that love and passion that every College Crow girl has, which makes me feel so honoured to lead them alongside Annika. Ms Munro, our shining star, is the one who steers the entire 80-person ship, and we couldn’t have done it without her to guide us. I hope everyone who reads this edition can appreciate the people behind it, even if we cannot see the hours of care, toil and fatigue that they put into it. I see you, girls, and I am so proud of you. ~ Imogen ~

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After

Written by Imogen Sabey (Year 12), illustration by Yolanda Qiao (Year 9). The silence lasts a long time. The air grows stifling; the dust hovers in great clouds. All is dead, at first. You are finally still. The dust settles as a thick blanket over the levelled cities, stretching to the borders of its new dominion. Shattered houses, crumbled buildings, heaving piles of rubble. The trees are scorched and blackened to match your soot-coated bones, the green of forests only a faint memory. All over the world, everything is still. Look at what you have done. Time passes. The dust is disturbed, tumbles over itself in waves, is covered in snow and thawed again. The corpses strewn over streets lose their shape. You lose your faces. The flesh left is taken, the scavengers unrelenting even in this apocalypse. The bones are picked clean. All the cruel people, all the kind people, all the ordinary people who tried. They are gone. The cities turn into mountains and valleys of things that may once have been skyscrapers. Amidst the havoc and destruction and death, there is a tiny sapling whose leaves peek out of the carcasses. The weeds grow first, the toughest of the lot. They cover the cities in a thin layer of green, paving the roads with roots and covering the buildings with roofs of thick, verdant leaves. Trees grow. They start slowly, arriving as meek saplings, then replenish with a sudden manic fervour, racing each other in the rush to bloom all over the land. With their arrival come birds, possums, lizards, koalas. The unrestricted growth, the limitless space, means that the trees are no longer withheld: they burst to life with a vigour only encouraged by their residents. In the ocean, there are still swaths of plastic, rubbish, cruelty. Those will not pass for a long time, longer than the eons of renewing life. Stars will live and die before everything you did is undone. These tiny, infinite deaths will uphold your legacy, grand as you made it. Are you proud? Your books lie unread. All the knowledge, all the wisdom, all the humanity you professed to own is dead. The books are no longer books, merely pieces of wood with arbitrary splotches of ink. They welcome the dust. The pages stick together. When the rain comes, nothing shelters them anymore. They grow mould, and then moss, and then dissolve altogether. There goes your knowledge, your wisdom, your humanity. There goes the fruit of all the labours you ever spent, of all the creatures you experimented on and the darkest crevices you explored and the blood it cost to gain this knowledge that you yearned for so dearly. Millions of years of learning, lifetimes upon lifetimes of wanting more. Now it is a mountain of wood, in strange shapes with strange symbols, covered with climbing vines and ferns. No condolences are given. Everything you built is gone. Everything you took is growing back. Everything you burned, everything you consumed, everything you killed. You slaughtered us, yet we outlive you.

Semester 1 2022

Unbinding Written by Grace Du (Year 11), illustration by Reina Shi (Year 9).

We went to bind the old cherry tree that day. Before the sunrise. The morning, she said, is for service. A cold grey haze hugged us both. The grass of our backyard lawn played on my bare ankles. The ghost of living things. I followed her down the slope, echoing the sound of her sandals slapping the ground. Following her, I realised how often I was running to catch up to her. The sight of my grandmother’s back her frayed shirt and floppy straw hat was crystallised in my eyes. Always was. Still is.

I clung to her sun-browned arm, lined with the bruises and burns that came after close to seventy years of labour.

Every single mark and faded line told of what she had felt. Her eyes told me what she had seen and from her mouth fell words of what she had known. My grandmother was a river of stories. She marked her way through the soil not in search of any particular dream, but because she wanted to continue travelling, pursuing, flowing. Onwards. That was her favourite cry. And the stones that fell into her waters - whether by accident or on purpose - made a tiny, perfect ripple, before sinking in slow-motion to the riverbed. With time, it too would travel on. 6

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She tried to wrap the broken branch of the tree with shaking hands. Even in her struggle, I could see the practised precision in her movement. I reached up and held her wrists as she continued to bind. We stepped back and looked at our work. The cherry tree’s branch was now fixed in black wrapping. We did not know if it would heal. How could anyone know? For healing is an art that belongs to itself, like how the river sets itself to perpetuity.

I visited the tree today. Alone. In two years, not much had changed. The black wrapping was still there, albeit falling apart. I peeled it back slightly and saw that where there had been a split in the tree, the parts were now growing together and joining. It was still obvious. I was sure that if I poked it, it would have fallen. But all I did was unbind. At last, the wrapping fell to the ground before me. The broken tree branch lifted and fell in the wind, supporting itself. I faced it, and hoped it was mirroring itself in my eyes. Semester 1 2022

Written by Katherine Zhang (Year 12)

Precipitous

Illustration (left) by Yilan Chow (Year 9)

The wait is over. Rung the bell, wrung my heart over childish imaginations. How far-fetched, how far-flung. I’ve seen it already in front pages of magazines, big, bold, block letters on TV. The soft orange sunset – The horizon on fire. Fluid movements of koi cascade with the water, morph into bright plastics. Strong is our generation, Resilient. Smart. Weak is the thin string of hope I defend. It flutters, a moth in a dark cage Elusive as a cat in the night. Some days it darts for cover from my rage when another young thing is shot clean through doe eyes, when politicians promise poisonous lies I’ll inherit nothing. I’ll be nothing’s fool Proof of a jaded generation – next story, Next story. We’ll soon be history. I turn my eyes to the window where light grey darkens to heavy blue. I clamber out, ankles catching on the rose bush, Take my first breath of air. Follow, pursue, go forth on the golden road. Blood red apple, Grapes, cherries, off the path I take a step to find myself On my knees at the cliff edge – Pressed dirt under bare feet, I see it plainly now. It’s a long way down, it’s a long way out. Cool caress of the wind on my face And the weight of the world dissipates into the great unknown, like the weightlessness in space.

A Journey Back in Time to Alishan Article and photos by Stephanie Chew (Year 9).

Imagination is but one aspect of life that makes us human. When we imagine things, our spirits soar; we question the universe and challenge ourselves to find answers. What, then, would you imagine, if you had the opportunity to visit living trees that are over two thousand years old?

I was fortunate enough to have that experience during my visit ) is a to Alishan Mountain Range in Taiwan. Alishan ( ridge of Yushan (Jade Mountain), located between Nantou and Chiayi, and covers a very large area of 14,000 hectares. The main recreation area is about 2,000 to 2,700 metres above sea level.

阿里山

The area is rich in history. It was initially settled by the Tsou Aboriginal tribe. During the Japanese occupation of Taiwan, the Japanese located the forests of Alishan, discovering a vast source of cypress wood for themselves. They used this wood to build a series of narrow-gauge railways to facilitate the creation of a logging industry in Alishan. In building the railways, over 300,000 giant cypress trees, each with an average age of two to three thousand years, were felled. After the departure of the Japanese, three villages of Taiwanese residents remained in the area.

On arrival at Alishan, I was instantly enveloped by the peaceful and divine nature of the green and lush forests. I decided to walk up the mountain to reach the Giant Trees Park Trail. It was only after I had walked half-way up the mountain that reality hit and I realised that it would have been easier to catch the train up and then walk down. However, I was hypnotised by the cool mountain air and the rustling trees, they challenged me to push through. I continued my ascent on foot. 10

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As I walked along the Giant Trees Park Trail, a carefully designed path that snakes through the forests, I was transported into Lothlórien, the magical forest in The Lord of the Rings. The Trail was shrouded with the misty fog of winter, giving a further ethereal feeling to the area.

Standing deep in the forests, surrounded by ancient living trees, I half expected to be greeted by magical folks and dryads. Ancient tree stumps – some, perhaps, were victims of the slaughter by civilisation – took many shapes and forms: one resembled a wild boar seemingly frozen in time, while another stood proud like a hulk, guarding the remaining living trees. I felt a sense of serenity and belonging with nature. There are two sections in the Trail, which has, by itself, the highest density of giant trees in Taiwan. Thirty Six giant Taiwan red cypress trees over a thousand years old span the Trail. While meandering on the trail at the roots/bases of these giant trees, I cannot help but let my imagination run wild. These trees have been around since Jesus; what have they seen and heard over the millennia?

The power of Nature came forth when I touched trees that were 1,500 years old. So much history, so many scars that nature carries; yet the forest begrudges no one, silently carrying on stoically, standing majestically, and overcoming the ravages of time. It was a humbling experience for me; I felt so insignificant, yet so empowered to do something to protect this beauty of Nature.

The grandest tree of them all was the No.28 Giant Tree, the tallest and oldest red cypress on the trail. With a girth of 13.1 metres, and a height of 43.5 metres, it is estimated to be around 2,000 years old. Gazing at the No.28 Giant Tree immediately brought me peacefulness and calm; it is impossible to feel anything but awe in the presence of the majestic serenity of this tree. When finally descending the mountain, I could not help but reflect on one of the most magical and memorable experiences with Nature that I had ever had. It is impossible to express in words what I felt when coming face to face with a living thing that has survived for over a thousand years, but there, I have done my best.

Semester 1 2022

r e f l e c t i o n Written by Amy Feng (Year 11), illustration by Zoe Kopczyk (Year 10).

sometimes, the sky is a reflection. on happy days, i see clouds carved into smiles, racing across the sky like a carousel of laughter. i laugh with the sky in a way that’s only natural. summer seeps into my skin like it’s always belonged there, and the sky is blue with warmth. on gloomy days, the sky is an open wound and i am the witness of its healing; of a gaping mouth that closes only to open, teetering on the edge of cathartic release. on days like these, my heart opens like a wound too — a beating, pulsing home to pain. life hibernates in this make-shift home, slows down, stops for a while. and i, too, tread with heavier steps, breathe deeper, become still-life,

a wintered muse. the sky wells up, a web that is pulled this way and that, dew settling on the taut, tangled strings. precipitation, they call it: the product of condensation. the gathering of dew. we call them the dew-gatherers, the ones who draw dew from the lines of their fingertips, who weave red string into neat lines, open, then close the seams with dexterity. they’re the rain-cuppers, the ones who look up and exclaim: oh look, i’m not the only one. blue runs in their bloodstream; they can name every shade of the sky. the clouds are painted with their emotions, like wispy tendrils of a heart on display. and sometimes, the sky is their reflection.

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Sometimes, I Dream of Hope Written by Eshwari Surendran (Year 11), illustration by Zoe Kopczyk (Year 10).

Hope: A small, spindly plant, with thin, pale leaves. Grows best in well-drained soil, partly shaded.

Sometimes, I dream Of floating away, a human-shaped hot air balloon. Sweeping my wings as birds do, in silent delight. Sometimes, I dream Of breathing in the silky softness Of marshmallow-white clouds, The foggy, grey hug of the sky. Sometimes, I dream Of trees whose branches spiral down to their trunks; an endless loop of life. Trees whose roughened skin still brims with the warmth of joy.

Sometimes, I dream Of planting my seed of hope Up there, among the marshmallow clouds, the sky’s hug, the trees warm with joy. Sometimes, I dream Of a small, spindly, green arm Stretching upwards, to life.

Semester 1 2022

THE

WONDERFUL WORLD

OF FUNGI

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When someone says fungi, what do you think of? The disgusting, slimy food that your parents force you to eat? Toadstools you’ve found in the forest on a hike that can kill you? Magic mushrooms that you learned about in PDH that can cause hallucinations? I guess you’re kind of right. But those are only the bad things - the things that give mushrooms their bad reputation. When we think of these, we often forget about the wonderful world of fungi and how fungi can save the wonderful world we live in. Fungi are an integral part of our ecosystems, allowing plants to communicate, share nutrients and enhance each other’s growth. Underground, there is a large, intricate network of… FUNGI! Mycorrhizal fungi, to be precise. These connect plants together and form a symbiotic relationship with the roots, enhancing the plant's growth. On top of that, fungi have been known to break down oil, chemicals, and plastic, enabling the soil to recover after accidents. They can also work as water filters, presenting themselves as potential solutions to so many of the pollution problems we face. When fungi sporulate, they attract insects, promoting pollination and, subsequently, land regeneration. But they also work as natural pesticides, removing the need to apply chemicals to our crops, leading to healthier and tastier foods. Then, we have the medicinal applications of fungi. Mushrooms like Lion’s Mane show potential in preventing and treating neurodegenerative diseases like Alzheimer’s, Parkinson’s, and MS, as they increase the nerve growth factor in our bodies, as well as other diseases, including cancer and liver diseases. Mushrooms are similarly amazing at improving cognition and memory, and some, such as Chaga mushrooms, may even prevent skin ageing, helping you look younger for longer. Placing mushrooms under the sun or another UV source for just 15 minutes boosts their Vitamin D content. A mere three button mushrooms a day provides you with all the Vitamin D you need. Why is this so amazing? Because mushrooms are suitable for both vegans and vegetarians, all while helping you boost your immune system. So, no matter how much you hate them, try mixing them into your salad, sauces or turning them into chips and you won’t even notice that you’re eating them. Or, just think about all the fantastic stuff that fungi can do - maybe that will inspire you!

Written by Anastasia Prokhorov (Year 10). Illustration (left) by Anastasia.

Semester 1 2022

Request for a Plant

Written by Alison Fang and Natasha Chuan (Year 10).

Trevor and Henry (ft. Elvis) - Miss Mella “Here are Trevor and Henry, my two office companions. Both Christmas presents (Henry was a gift from Mrs Chiba). They are seen here hanging out with Elvis, the King of Rock and Roll. Fun Fact: Mrs Emma Owens also loves Elvis!” Our beloved Head of Year, Miss Mella, nominated the fabulous Trevor and Henry in their adorable pots. Especially because of the little Elvis, the true King of Rock and Roll, Trevor and Henry’s spunky personalities really come to life. Both of their pots somehow also find the perfect balance between classy and cute, which both of us really admire and wish we could apply to our own fashion sense. A true 10/10. (Miss Mella has also previously threatened to “force some taste” into us if we were to ever disagree on the matter of Elvis. We fear what this implies.) 10/10. (Please don’t hurt us.) Socially Orchid, Lilyardo da Vinci - Mrs Chiba “Well, I love my plants. I have a little garden in my office. It started with this lone peace lily which sits alone and stately in my office… Then I have my failure plant, the orchid still alive, but no flower to be seen. But then, I have all my friends together. They all get along very well and are a happy bunch. They love facing the window and I am sure they have great conversations all day long. When we are on holidays, George from security takes care of the plants for me. They enjoy his company pair, Socially Orchid’s failure to produce a single too!” flower really destroys their joint score. We were also These little plants, Socially Orchid* and Lilyardo slightly sad when Mrs Chiba called her a failure. da Vinci* were nominated by Mrs Chiba. They look What kind of harmful environment is being created so cute, and we love how happy they are together! for this poor plant? However, the acknowledgement of George from security does give them a few extra We believe that plants deserve friends too. Lilyardo does give off a very posh appearance, and points. Kudos to George from security. we think she rocks that look. Sadly for this happy

7/10

Terra - Mrs Surducki “This is a terrarium I got my husband for his birthday. It was to add some life to his home office (he's been WFH since Covid!). It has a little figurine of an astronaut in it, which I think is ADORBS. It kind of makes it look like the astronaut is walking in an alien jungle. I call it ‘Terra’ because terrarium, but also Terra Firma, which is what I’d expect the astronaut to say to Mission Control in triumph when touching down.” Terra has a very adorable story and an actual name! Gifted by Mrs Surducki to her husband for his birthday - what’s not to love? Despite looking a little less glamorous than Trevor, Henry and Elvis, she’s a very classy little plant. We love a good old terrarium and Terra is looking mighty fine with her layers of soil and stone, and a tiny little astronaut walking through the trees (no, the little white thing is NOT a grub). Totes ADORBS. 9/10

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Jacaranda Tree, Michael Jackarandason - Dr Burgis “I was born in Jacaranda Hospital, Cronulla. I was given a Jacaranda Tree by the hospital. It was ultimately planted in our family home in Woronora. I had to leave it when we moved. At my previous school, we planted a row of Jacarandas. We lived in Zimbabwe in the 1990s in a school with a huge long row of Jacarandas. We have one outside my office now.” Dr Burgis nominated this plant because it had a deep connection to his personal life; he was gifted a Jacaranda Tree at birth. We love this story; our cold, dead, SRP-ridden hearts are warmed. This Jacaranda, Michael Jackarandason*, is looking strong and healthy, perfect for providing tiny children with shade. Unfortunately, Michael is feeling a bit self-conscious today due to the lack of his usual purple flowers. We have clearly chosen the wrong season to interview him, a mistake on our part. But, as self-consciousness and modesty are obviously terrible qualities when you want to be *stunning*, we must sadly remove a couple of points from Michael’s score. 8/10 Cherry Tomato, Bob (the Tomato) - Mrs Halkidis “I have attached two photos of our cherry tomato plants that we planted from seedlings at the start of summer and they are out of control now. They have given us so many delicious cherry tomatoes and I need to pick a whole lot more today. The recent rain has really helped as I haven’t been as good at watering the garden since I’ve been back at work.” Bob the Tomato*, owned by Mrs Halkidis, loves to show off his beautiful red fruits. We love his backstory and how he’s been with her literally his whole life - such a special connection! What’s really tragic, though, is the lack of Larry the Cucumber; Bob tells me he’s in Hawaii with the Philistines. On a different note, we’re also glad someone is benefiting from all of this rain, especially since Mrs Halkidis isn’t regular in watering the garden, as evidenced by some unfortunate brown foliage. Wait… is that… PLANT NEGLIGENCE? We really can’t stand for this. Mrs Halkidis, do better. 2/10 Dragonfruit (grown from a seed), Puff (the magic dragon) - Ms Williams Little baby Puff the Magic Dragon(fruit)* is owned by Ms Williams. Look how cute he is in his little yellow pot. So adorable. We really like how he looks like a tiny cactus, and appreciate Ms Williams’ dedication: Puff was grown from seed and dragonfruit plants take forever to grow. Although there are many parts of Puff that make him truly spectacular, we can’t overlook his lacking personality. We think he definitely could benefit from an additional googly eye or cat sticker. We don’t even know his origin story! An origin story for a baby dragon would be the best. We’re very salty that we were deprived of this. Even though Puff is a baby, we’re going to have to take off quite a few points; it’s okay to be mean to babies. We look forward to seeing him again in his true glory in another seven years. 6/10 * Certain plants requested that their identities remain anonymous for privacy reasons. Names have been changed.

Semester 1 2022

Nature Myths Written by Quyen Nguyen (Year 7), illustrations by Sophia Kelleher (Year 8).

Greek Myth The Olive Tree Long ago, there was a great city. Two gods, Athena and Poseidon, wanted to be the patron of the city. Athena was the goddess of wisdom and strategy, and Poseidon ruled the sea. Both were unable to give up and the mortals were afraid of angering either god, so Athena declared a contest. “Whoever gives the most useful gift to the mortals wins,” Athena said. “The other god cannot take revenge against the mortals.” Poseidon agreed and struck his trident on the ground, creating a saltwater spring. Athena went next. She raised her hand, and a tree heavy with green fruit emerged from the ground. “What is that?” Poseidon scoffed. “It’s an olive tree,” answered Athena. “It will help the people!” Athena explained that the mortals could eat the cured fruit, light lamps with the oil, and trade the olives. It would grow all over the rocky countryside as well. The city’s king chose Athena. Her olive tree was more useful than Poseidon’s saltwater spring, which couldn’t be drunk. The mortals even named the city Athens and planned to build a marvellous temple in her honour. Poseidon was furious. He broke the deal and flooded Athens. The mortals managed to calm him by agreeing to also dedicate the temple to Poseidon. The temple was built in the Athenian Acropolis and called the Parthenon. It was later known for a massive gold and ivory statue of Athena, called the Athena Parthenos. Today the statue is lost, but the Parthenon is still one of the most famous Ancient Greek monuments, and the olive tree is one of the most useful trees on Earth. Aztec Myth How Quetzalcoatl created Humans In the beginning, Ometeotl, the first god, had four children: Quetzalcoatl, god of light; Tezcatlipoca, god of darkness; Huitzilopochtli, god of war; and Xipe Totec, god of farming. These four gods created other gods, and a giant crocodile, Cipactli. But Cipactli swallowed everything they created, so they cut up her body. Her head became the heavens, her body was the Earth, and her tail was the underworld. The gods then created the first race of people: the Giants. After an argument with Quetzalcoatl, Tezcatlipoca sent his jaguars to eat the giants. The gods tried again, creating smaller humans. However, after another argument, Tezcatlipoca turned the humans into monkeys. The third time they tried, Tezcatlipoca ran away with Xochiquetzal, the rain god Tlaloc’s wife. Tlaloc made it rain fire, burning the people to ashes. The fourth time, Tezcatlipoca insulted Chalchiuhtlicue the water goddess, and she flooded the world. The fifth time, Quetzalcoatl 18 decided to bring all previous humans back to life.

He asked Xolotl, the dog-headed sunset god, to take him to the Underworld. There he found the Lord and Lady of the Dead surrounded by the bones of the humans who had died. Quetzalcoatl told them he had come to take the bones of the humans, to restore them to life. The Lady of the Dead refused, but Quetzalcoatl reassured her that he was only borrowing them, for eventually each human would die and their bones would return to the Underworld. “You may borrow the bones, only if you take this conch, and play beautiful music on it,” declared the Lord of the Dead. He handed over a conch shell which could not play music. Quetzalcoatl did not give up. With the help of the worms, who nibbled holes in the shell, and the bees, who flew inside and buzzed to play beautiful music, he succeeded. The Lord and Lady of the Dead were furious, but they gave the bones to Quetzalcoatl. However, the Lord and Lady of the Dead had pits dug around the Underworld to prevent the gods from leaving. Quetzalcoatl fell into one of those pits, breaking all of the bones. But he gathered them up, and Xolotl helped him escape. Quetzalcoatl took the bones to the snake goddess Cihuacóatl, who ground the bones and mixed them with drops of Quetzalcoatl’s blood and made the humans that live in our world today. After Quetzalcoatl taught them everything, he turned into the morning star. Haida Myth How Raven Brought Light to the World Raven was considered a trickster who transformed the world - sometimes intentionally, sometimes by accident. There are many stories about his adventures. This story is set in a time when everything was dark, because of an old man who kept all the light in the world locked inside an infinite number of boxes, with each box smaller than the last. The smallest box housed the light because he was afraid his daughter was ugly and did not want people to see her. Raven decided to steal back the light, so he transformed into a seed and hid inside a water jug. The daughter drank the water and gave birth to Raven, who had disguised himself as a human baby. The old man accepted Raven as his grandson. One day, Raven found the boxes with the light inside. “Don’t open that!” the old man warned. Raven began to cry so loudly that the old man gave up and let him open the first box to reveal a smaller box. “Don’t open that!” the old man warned. Raven began to cry until the old man gave up and let him open the box. Again and again, they repeated, until Raven had the last box. He opened it up to find all the light in the world, and he quickly transformed into a raven. Raven escaped, bringing light to the world. The old man was horrified, but to his relief, he discovered his daughter was beautiful after all. As Raven flew away, an eagle startled him so much, he dropped the box. The light broke into a large piece that became the sun, a smaller piece that became the moon, and a million tiny pieces 19 that became the stars.

PLC Sydney College Crow

Phases of Hypnos As I lay there in blue darkness I heard the nightly crickets play, Their children learned to dance To the rousing wind that swayed. Tires rubbed against flooded gutters; Overhead thunder left me shaken, As I plummeted into a lavender field Only thick-scented sheets, I have mistaken. z z z

Though all around the shade of grey, Night owls find the colours in themselves, From a muffled dark pink that lived in the day To streaks of brown across wooden bookshelves. z z z

Blasts of rain pelted window-glass, The cold not giving a care, Night so orphic it’s where dreams settle inAll feasible without summer’s flair. Twisted, dry leaves clung onto branches Their silhouettes through the skylight, Bright-eyed goblins waiting for you to sleep, Falling off the bed saves the sharks below a bite. z z z

Majestic aliens, mud monsters, restless ghouls Anything your subconscious saw uncanny to choose, Large daunting clocks appeared before they, all at once, melt Decaying clock-hands oozed on the floor, can’t express the confusion I felt. z z z

My body drowned in exhaustion, My mind dwindled in refrain, That laced drink of the imagination, Had brought ink over my eyes again. I lifted my arm into the air Followed my fingers branch apart As I, still, lay there in blue darkness My thoughts have nowhere to start. I gathered all my mem’ries Of sadness, fear, distress, But I knew of in the morning Only forgetful happiness. Written by Anastasia Mouzos (Year 8), illustration by Zoe Kopczyk (Year 10).

Semester 1 2022

The Winds Wish For Love I am nothing,

I am the winds of the world, I hold no power, And yet man relies on me. They interest me, Crying, laughing, screaming, And yet they love. Man is an interesting specimen. Some destroy, others build. They only rely on themselves. From the beginning of time they just took. Some of the old men gave back to the land, but these new ones just destroy and take. Man has done many things through time; killed, destroyed, built, and loved. Yet it is the latter that interests me. I have seen many foolish men do things due to what they call love and yet many of them describe it to me as something divine. They speak to the winds as if I know what love is. They say it is when you would do anything for the person you love, even give up your life. It is when you give yourself fully to the other, because you can’t see a life without them. I once saw a man travel over valleys, mountains to get to the one he loved, only to be turned away in favour of another. They speak of it as a god and yet I have seen what they call love destroy everything they have. I have seen ‘love’ be the downfall for countless humans. And yet, those that aren't destroyed seem content. I have wished many times since the beginning of time to feel what these humans call love. And yet, I know deep down, I won’t ever know what it feels like because I am nothing. I am no one. Just the winds of the world, doomed forever to this meaningless existence. Written by Kristine Liu (Year 9), illustrated by M Johansson (Year 10).

PLC Sydney College Crow

Semester 1 2022

HOA SEN Written and illustrated by Tansy (Ad) Pham (Year 12). A LOTUS CAN ONLY GROW IN THE MUD, THEIR ROOTS LATCHED DEEP INTO IT. BEFORE I WENT TO AN ENGLISH-SPEAKING SCHOOL, I ONLY SPOKE IN VIETNAMESE. IT’S EXPRESSIVE. THE KIND OF LANGUAGE WHICH, IF YOU REALLY GOT INTO IT, YOUR FEELINGS WERE FULLY EXPOSED ON YOUR SLEEVES, FOR GOOD OR BAD. THE TWISTING ON TONES AND SOUNDS, SKILLFULLY WEAVED BY THE TONGUES AND MINDS OF MY RELATIVES, TOLD MORE THAN THE WORDS THEMSELVES. VIETNAMESE WAS OUR TAPESTRY, A MYRIAD OF PETALS. SO COLOURFUL, SO FULL OF LIFE, INTRICATE IN ITS DESIGN. MEANING UNREADABLE TO THOSE WHO WERE UNABLE TO LACE THOSE FINE WORKS THEMSELVES.

A LOTUS MISSING PETALS CAN NEVER BE A WHOLE LOTUS. MY LANGUAGE WASN’T MADE TO BE RECOGNISED BY EVERYONE. MY MOTHER AND FATHER’S FAMILY CAME FROM DIFFERENT SIDES OF VIETNAM, WITH ACCENTS DISTINCT FROM ONE ANOTHER, ALTHOUGH SOMEONE FROM OUTSIDE WOULD NEVER BE ABLE TO TELL. IT GOADED ME, TO PICK ONE SIDE. TO SPEAK AS ONE, AND ISOLATE MY OTHER HERITAGE. PICK A SIDE, OR NEVER BE ONE. I THOUGHT IT WOULD BE SIMPLE. THAT I COULD JUST PICK A SIDE, BUT I COULD NEVER. I COULD NEVER, EVER BE AN AUSTRALIAN, NOT AS LONG AS PEOPLE HAD TO ASK WHERE I WAS ‘FROM’. EVEN WHEN I SPOKE ENGLISH JUST LIKE ANYONE ELSE. EVEN WHEN I HAD TAUGHT MY NATIVE TONGUE OUT OF MYSELF. AND I COULD NEVER BE VIETNAMESE. I WASN’T BORN IN VIETNAM. I HAD LONG GONE AND GROWN OUTSIDE OF THE POND, NOW WITH LESS PETALS THAN THEM. PLUCKED AWAY, MY CULTURE WAS TORN FROM ME, BEFORE MY EYES. TO JUST SUCCEED IN THIS FOREIGN LAND MY PARENTS HAD FOUGHT HARD TO STAY AFLOAT, IN THAT SMALL BOAT OF THEIRS. ASSIMILATE INTO THEIR IDEA OF PERFECTION - THAT WAS MY PARENT’S WISHES. 24

PLC Sydney College Crow

EVERY NIGHT, THEY SUBMERGE INTO THE DARK DEPTHS OF THE WATER. SO WHY DID MY MOTHER FROWN WHEN I SPOKE VIETNAMESE? I WAS SO WELL. I HAD BEEN DOING EVERYTHING SO WELL. WHY WAS SHE SO DISSONANT AS I TRIED TO COMMUNICATE WITH HER? WERE MY MISSING PETALS SO OBVIOUS? DID IT MATTER? THEY STILL BLOOMED BRILLIANTLY, AS THEY HAD EXPECTED OF ME. SPEAKING VIETNAMESE ALWAYS LED TO MOCKERY, EVEN IN THE VERY HOME THAT HAD TAUGHT IT TO ME. OUTSIDE, THEY JEERED, THOSE VARIOUS TONES AND SOUNDS, THEY WERE UGLY. SO I MUTED THEM. I STOOPED SO LOW AS TO MAKE MY LANGUAGE MORE PALATABLE TO THOSE WHO COULDN’T EVEN UNDERSTAND IT, I DARED TO STRIP AWAY THE MEANINGS, CULTURE, BEAUTY, LIFE OUT OF IT; ALL TO PLEASE - WHO? MY MUTED SPEAKING ONLY MADE MY FAMILY CHUCKLE, OR FROWN, IN CONFUSION. I COULD UNDERSTAND THEM TOO WELL, YET THEY COULDN’T UNDERSTAND ME. I HEARD THEM SNEERING AT MY EVERY SOUND, AS IF GOING SPEECHLESS IN VIETNAMESE HAD MADE ME GO DEAF IN IT AS WELL. NEVER AGAIN, I TOLD MYSELF. NEVER WOULD I SPEAK IT AGAIN. MY VIETNAMESE HAD LAID ME BARE, AS AN INCOMPLETE BLOOM.

YET, EVERY MORNING, WITHOUT FAIL, THE LOTUS WILL BLOOM ABOVE THE WATER. PRISTINE, AND CLEAN. AS I GREW OLDER, PERHAPS TIMES HAD CHANGED, OR I - I FOUND PRIDE IN MY IDENTITY AS A VIETNAMESE PERSON. OF COURSE, THE SCARS OF THE PAST STILL STUCK ONTO MY PETALS, LINGERING EMBARRASSMENT IN HOW I SPOKE OR BRINGING IT UP, BUT I HAD NO REASON TO BE APOLOGETIC - TO BE APOLOGETIC OF BEING ME. A PROUD DESCENDANT OF THOSE WHO HAD SURVIVED WAR, WHO HAD LIVED DEEP IN THE JUNGLE, TRAVELLED ACROSS SEAS.

Continues over page.

Semester 1 2022

Continued from page 25.

I MADE A LITTLE BIT MORE EFFORT TO INTEGRATE MYSELF BACK INTO MY CULTURE, MY RIGHTFUL HOME. SIMPLE THINGS LIKE HELPING WITH COOKING NATIVE FOOD, ASKING MY PARENTS HOW TO SAY THE SEASONS AGAIN IN VIETNAMESE, OR EVEN BEING CORRECTED AFTER MIXING UP THE WORDS FOR ‘WEEK’ AND ‘MONTH’ AGAIN. IN THOSE SMALL MOMENTS, I WAS TRULY ALIVE. ALIVE WITH THE LIVES OF OTHERS AROUND ME.

A LOTUS IS A LOTUS, NO MATTER THEIR PETALS NO MATTER WHERE THEY HAVE GROWN, HOW FAR THEY ARE FROM THE REST OF THEIR BRETHREN. THIS VERY LANGUAGE I SPEAK; ALTHOUGH SCRAMBLED, ALTHOUGH AMATEURISH, IS THE VERY ONE MY MOTHER SPOKE IN. IT IS THE VERY ONE MY MOTHER’S MOTHER, MY GRANDMOTHER SPOKE IN. AND BEYOND THAT, THOSE PREVIOUS GENERATIONS I WOULD NEVER BE ABLE TO SEE, THEY SPOKE THIS VERY TONGUE. YET SO FAR, IN MY EYES, THEY WERE, WE ALL SPOKE VIETNAMESE. IF THEY WERE ALIVE, I COULD SPEAK WITH THEM; CONNECT WITH THEM. I SPEAK WITH THE SAME INFLECTION AS MY MOTHER HAS. AND SHE, WITH HER MOTHER. MY GRANDMOTHER WITH HER MOTHER. THE SMALL PHRASES AND TONES - THE ONES I HAD MUTED, SEALED AWAY - CAME FROM MY ANCESTORS. MY BODY, MY MIND, MY SOUL, MY ESSENCE CAME FROM THEM. NO MATTER THE DISTANCE, THEY WERE PART OF ME. THEY WERE THE VERY WORDS I SPOKE. AND SOON, I WOULD BECOME PART OF THAT TOO, TO THOSE FAR AHEAD OF ME.

FOR THAT LOTUS WAS ONCE A SEED, THE VERY FORM AND SHAPE IN WHICH THEIR ANCESTORS, LONG AGO, HAD GROWN FROM; AND THEIR DESCENDANTS WILL CONTINUE TO GROW FROM.

PLC Sydney College Crow

Illustration by Zoe Kopczyk (Year 10).

Semester 1 2022

A Sneak Peek Written by Lilian Stock (Year 12), Phoebe Adam (Year 11), Sasha Prokhorov

Message from Environment and Sustainability Captain:

Natural phenomena captivates us, they beckon you to be on her side. We are intrinsically wired to benefit from being amongst green spaces, to honour the complex and beautiful aspects of nature. Acknowledging our love for the living world does something that a library full of papers on sustainable development, pollution remediation and ecosystem restoration cannot: it engages the imagination as well as the intellect. It inspires belief. Masterful poems, songs, artworks have borne from artists’ love of the wonders of nature. I implore the girls of PLC Sydney to return to nature, to be held and awed by it so that we will fight, create and heal for it just as the girls of College Crow and SEED aspire to.

What’s happening at SEED?: Ongoing Projects (Sasha Prokhorov)

Recycling

If you haven’t already noticed the (often overflowing) SEED-logo embellished cardboard boxes in the corner of every classroom then… where have you been putting your recycling? These boxes have been created by SEED to reduce general waste and increase recycling and are regularly emptied by SEED members. Clean-Up Excursions

SEED is always keeping an eye out for local communities or organisations to assist in cleaning up the environment. These include Mudcrabs River Clean-up, and recently Clean Up Australia Day (cancelled, on this occasion, due to rain). These events are a fun way to spend time with friends in fresh air and help save the environment.

The Inspiring SEED Business Spotlight: Ethique

This New Zealand brand has developed a carbonpositive business selling solid haircare, deodorant and soap bars in plastic-free packaging and delivery. They plant a tree for every sale and are powered by 100% renewable energy. Bars can last longer than standard bottles (these usually mainly contain water) so it saves you the hassle of continually needing plastic bottles, as well as the environment.

Upcoming Sustainability Week

Sustainability Week is where SEED promotes the importance of caring for the environment through fun, engaging activities and stalls. It always ends up being a huge success and last Sustainability Week you could even purchase goods such as non-plastic straws and Beeswax Packaging. This upcoming Sustainability Week, SEED will continue spreading this important message through a week of fun and awareness. How to Join SEED

How to be Sustainable at School

Email Dr Gutierrez or the 2022 Environment & Sustainability Captain Lilian Stock.

Recycle batteries at the Senior School office.

If you are interested in joining SEED:

Come along to our Tuesday lunch meetings in the MSR!

Use the TerraCycle Box for used chip alfoil and plastic packets at the Senior School office. Recycle stationery at The Stables. Recycle Glass and Plastic Bottles. PLC Sydney College Crow

k into SEED (Year 10). Illustrations by Euna Oh and Tanika Young (Year 9). Mudcrabs (Phoebe Adam)

Sign-up for Mudcrabs River Clean-up with SEED by emailing Dr Gutierrez. Have you ever been walking in your local neighbourhood, on a bay walk or even in the bush and seen rubbish floating in the water or littering the natural wildlife? Now is the time to do something about it! Join the Mudcrabs River Clean-up with SEED! The Mudcrabs are a group of volunteers that meet up once a month to clean out rubbish from the Cooks River. Not only is this a great opportunity for your future CV, it also gives you an opportunity to find out where our waste ends up, helping you become more eco-minded and cut down on your own waste. This is held once a month from 9.00 to 11.00 am on Saturday at Close Street, Canterbury. Food and free t-shirts are provided afterwards. Email Dr Gutierrez for more information. Food Waste

Farmers annually grow 1.5 times more food than needed to feed the planet. But despite the extreme excess of food, world hunger is still a problem. Only about half of this amount is consumed, and the other half is left to rot. In Australia, ABC’s Waste Statistics report 1/5 of shopping bags go to waste. Food waste is an increasingly large contributor to landfill, making up 30% of landfill in NSW! Project Drawdown (a U.S. non-profit organisation) has shown that many small consumer-level changes make the biggest dent in emissions. Cutting household food waste in half, for instance, rates as #3 in the Top 100 emission-cutting practices - cutting more CO2 emissions than application of solar farms and rooftop solar combined. Minimising food waste not only helps our planet but also helps our pockets. So let’s all try becoming a little more creative with what we eat! Brumbies in Kosciuszko National Park

A recent survey suggests that the wild horse population in Kosciuszko National Park has increased from 3,000 in 2002 to 14,000. Concerns have been raised about environmental damage of many horses in the park on an already dwindling variety of threatened native animals remaining, such as the southern corroboree frog. Capturing and re-homing the animals cannot be done in great enough numbers so ground trapping and aerial shooting appears to be the last resort. The state government said the removal of wild horses would be carried out in accordance with best practice animal welfare requirements. The brumbies in Kosciuszko National Park have been the cause of division and debate for decades.

Semester 1 2022

The Camphor Laurel Tree Written by Sasha Prokhorov (Year 10), Illustration by Jasmine Gifford (Year 9).

Swaying in the wind but it won’t fall. It stands: almighty, soaring, tall. Its skin is wrinkled, tough, and thick, There is a word on every stick. Its leaves are rich, in green and shine. Its roots choke soil in their grasp. And when at once the sticks fall free, They spell ‘the Camphor Laurel Tree’.

PLC Sydney College Crow

Cryptic Crossword Created by Olivia Low and Katherine Zhang (Year 12).

– Across –

1. Listen, okay, Shar? First save wattle trees (6) 5. Unclothes anaerobes, for Mia is low on haemoglobin (7) 9. David attends his knighting in an animal’s borough (3,12) 10. Window pane cuts behind the neck (4) 11. Cut us off from Professor Snape’s first name (5) 12. Up the ante? Take it back to the mountain (4) 15. Centurion deionized every hundred years. Then why? (7) 16. Cyclone Vietnamese dish between starting the year and ending too soon (7) 17. Finding what is moral in teeth, I calmed down (7) 19. Bugs in factions (7) 21. Oddly undo own Japanese dish (4) 22. Accord initially, and grow resilience, efficacy, empathy (5) 23. A nut backwards is a fish (4) 26. Steve’s menagerie down under (3,9,3) 27. A review of a sprint south (7) 28. Friends, for instance, in circumstantial farces (7)

Semester 1 2022

– Down –

1. As American chemists say, “It’s our cynic!” (7) 2. A bead of water in the sea is very small compared to what I expected (1,4,2,3,5) 3. Some audiotapes contain an extremely small amount (4) 4. Natural beauty in obscene rye fields (7) 5. Chill atmosphere wherein Bambi entered (7) 6. Hear an ache, her land is roughly half a hectare (4) 7. Spooner finds the highest peak in an Aussie Costco (5,10) 8. Volcanic downpour, so Ash ran and I joined in (3,4) 13. Bunch around art, less at late morning meal (5) 14. Remove Louis Vuitton from lavish, pay first instead to act foolish (5) 17. Equate or divides the world, reportedly (7) 18. Brighten and lessen weight (7) 19. Cold headwear? It’s melting! (3,4) 20. Four a year, as different as noses (7) 24. Spooner says do Joe a martial art (4) 25. Where coins that freshen your breath are made (4)

Solutions on page 48.

The Daily Bull Year 7 Year 7s, you are not the school leaders anymore. Bow to the Year 12s every time they pass. Any Year 7 caught complaining about the size of their lockers will have to endure the older students gushing about how cute and young and little you are FOR THE REST OF THE TERM. No exceptions. You had it coming. Shockingly, pausing for a moment to take a breath when panicking over a forgotten piece of homework actually helps. Did you know? If you spent most of your first week(s) wandering around the school completely and utterly lost, do not worry. Half of the older students shared your burden (and probably still do - don’t ask any of the older girls for directions because, let’s face it, age doesn’t mean wisdom.) It’s dog-eat-dog in the locker hallways at 3.05pm on a Friday. Stand up for yourself but if you hit someone with your bag don’t scowl at them. Promote kindness at PLC Sydney.

Year 8 Stop bullying the Year 7s, that was you last year. You haven't changed that much. Any Year 8s in the Year 7 area will immediately be demoted down to Year 7. Any Year 8s caught chewing gum will have it stuck to their hair for the rest of the day. Year 8s caught making TikToks will be forced to show the video to the whole school in assembly and have Dr Burgis rate it out of 10. When you pick your electives, be sure to select ones that please your parents. If not,… do so at your own risk. 32

Year 9 Year 9s who are caught complaining about their electives will be given homework courtesy of the entire English department. Remember, you chose them! Year 9s, you are not yet in Year 10, so phones away! Otherwise you’ll have to engage in the tedious task of teaching every teacher you pass on how to go viral on TikTok.

Year 10 Have you or a loved one been affected by the SRP? You may be entitled to financial compensation. Call 1800-SRP-NOOO to see if you are eligible. Get your life back. Anyone who has TikTok will automatically be entered into the Year 10 TikTok competition where you will be given 24 hours to go viral. Winners will be allowed to film a TikTok with Dr Burgis with the sound of their choice. Stop removing your Instagram followers and delete the whole app instead. Your kilt shouldn’t be getting shorter. The school will be conducting a kilt length check and if more than 50% of Year 10 fails the school will add a new feature: tassels! We know that now that you’re in Year 10 your phone is your life, but there is a fascinating object called a book - did you know? PLC Sydney College Crow

Year 11 You. Don’t. Have. To. Do. The. HSC. Yet. BREATHE. Year 11s caught abusing their free time by going out of school just to buy snacks will receive a compulsory high-five if caught by a teacher or another student. If you aren’t caught, enjoy your snacks in peace. The location of your locker area is not an excuse to be late to every class. As College Crow members, we will allow one excuse a week to be blamed on your locker area. That’s it. Be grateful that you don’t have colourful cardboard boxes to put your books in. Hmm. Maybe Extension Maths isn’t that bad of a decision after all.

Year 12

Staff English teachers (Point 1): If you are teaching anything related to Shakespeare or poetry, you must speak in each lesson using Shakespearean language. How else are your students supposed to learn? English teachers (Point 2): We have other exams, English isn’t the only subject we have. Please don’t make us read 100 pages in one night, thank you. PE teachers: When we forget our uniforms it isn’t a personal attack on you, we are just sleep deprived and forgot to set an alarm in the morning. If you ever feel like you need a break and require a responsible replacement…anyone in the College Crow Committee will happily take over for you. Teachers who want to go to the bathroom during class must now ask their students’ approval. They’re the ones suffering through your lesson; they should be able to have some sort of authority.

General

Update: Extension Maths was a terrible decision. Hooray! Now every assessment counts for your ATAR! Breathing/sneezing/generally existing is not advised at this point, because you might accidentally remove a comma from your essay and lose 10 marks. Please tidy up after yourselves in the Common Room, especially if you’re trying to cook something. Nobody deserves to deal with the aftermath of that. We know the HSC is close and you’re freaking out… but hey, look on the bright side! After it’s over and done with, you’ll be able to breathe easy again. At least until the results come. A baking roster will be organised to increase morale as everyone starts to get stressed about the HSC. Groups of five will work together, supervised by their Year Coordinator, and receive an ATAR point each if they manage not to burn down the Common Room and the food they make is edible.

Remember what Mrs Chiba said: Chewing gum at school and getting caught = scraping it off the bottom of desks with her. Bonding! By popular demand, Dr Burgis will be replacing Speech Day with a Staff vs. Staff Cook-off hosted at the Opera House. No kitchenware will be provided; staff will be expected to demonstrate their flexibility by cooking with blowtorches, easy bake ovens and bunsen burners ‘borrowed’ from Lab 4. We will now be assigning every single one of the school ibises names. This means you can address them politely when yelling at them for attacking you and stealing your food. Students who chase and yell at our ibises will now be required to bow to them every time an ibis walks past. Don’t be mean. On school photo day everyone will be required to come to school with a makeup look from one of James Charles’ YouTube videos. The best recreation will be awarded with PLC Sydney limited edition makeup remover wipes! Illustration by Lulu Catalano (Year 8).

Semester 1 2022

Illustration by Reina Shi (Year 9).

Illustration by Cindy Wang (Year 9).

PLC Sydney College Crow

Illustration by Jasmine Gifford (Year 9).

Semester 1 2022

Deadly Plants Written by Abigail Ong (Year 10).

Illustrations by Emily Doust (Year 8), Isabella Loo (Year 9), Yolanda Qiao (Year 9) and Reina Shi (Year 9).

Gympie Gympie - Dendrocnide moroides Found commonly in Queensland, gympie gympie is one of the least pleasant members of the nettle family. Contact with the leaves, or even breathing in their stinging hairs, can result in a strong neurotoxin entering your body causing pain which is both excruciating and long-lasting. This pain can then occur again over weeks or months.

Rating Of How Likely I Would Be To Pick Them Without Knowing What They Are (ROHLIWBTPTWKWTA):

0/10

Yeah, no. Those spikes on the leaves would clearly warn me away from touching them.

Deadly Nightshade - Atropa belladonna Also known as belladonna, this is a toxic plant with round, purplish-black berries. It is native to Europe, North Africa, and Western Asia. The plant appears harmless and can be safely ingested by certain animals. However, just two to four of its berries can kill a child, and ten to twenty an adult. Milder symptoms appear quite quickly after ingestion, and these include delirium, hallucinations, lethargy and more. 36

ROHLIWBTPTWKWTA: 6/10

The flowers are kind of pointy, but the berries would definitely be something I’d pick just to squish on the ground. PLC Sydney College Crow

Oleander - Nerium oleander This beautiful, ornamental shrub blooms flowers of many colours and was imported to Australia. Because of its hardiness, it can be found a lot in street and park areas and in civic areas such as schools. However, it is one of the most poisonous ROHLIWBTPTWKWTA: plants known, with all parts of the plant 9/10 being dangerous. Even just touching it The flower is pretty and harmless-looking, can cause skin irritation or dermatitis. The ingestion of just one leaf can cause a so I would most likely pick them. The long pointy leaves do put me off though. heart attack resulting in death.

Wolfsbane - Aconitum napellus This plant can be found in mountains to temperate regions throughout western and central Europe. The toxins from wolfsbane were used to kill wolves and other animals, which is where its name comes from. “Wolf” being the animal and “bane” means anything that is a cause of harm, ruin, or even death. This poison has been mentioned multiple times throughout history. It is thought to have been one of the first poisons ever created in Greece, and it was used to poison enemies in Rome. The deadly blade in Hamlet written by Shakespeare was also covered in wolfsbane (also known as Aconite). The neurotoxins of wolfsbane can be potentially absorbed through the skin and cause serious health issues, which is why the plant should never be touched with bare hands. Ingesting wolfsbane can result in a change in heart rate, nausea, diarrhoea, vomiting, abdominal pain and other consequences. Semester 1 2022

ROHLIWBTPTWKWTA: 5/10

The flowers are a bit too droopy for my taste.

Flowers to give to your enemy (So you have an enemies-to-lovers arc)

Written by Abigail Ong (Year 10). Illustrations by Priya Bhadri (Year 8), Sophia Kelleher (Year 8), Euna Oh (Year 9), Anna Wang (Year 10) and Paloma White (Year 10).

Buttercups They represent childishness - perfect for subtly insulting them or their behaviour. Candytufts Symbol of indifference - yet you are being contradictory since you thought of them enough to give them these flowers. Hmmm. Sunflowers During the Victorian era, tall sunflowers were given to people to let them know that they were haughty. The best kind of flowers to send to your arrogant yet annoyingly good-looking enemy. Peonies Represent anger - great for when you’re feeling passive aggressive, since nothing is better than giving your annoying enemy some ~gentle hot pink flowers~ as a way to express your anger at them. Basil No, these aren’t flowers, but the herbs’ smell and the taste was so hated by Victorian society that they started using it as a way to insult one another in the form of bouquets made of basil. These basil plants can also be used by your enemy to cook up a delicious candlelit meal for the two of you ;) #LadyandtheTramp Yellow Carnations A signal of rejection and disappointment with someone. Maybe you’re communicating your disappointment in them for flirting with everyone but you... Red Roses I’m sure you all know what those mean ;)

RED ROSES

CANDYTUFTS

YELLOW CARNATIONS

SUNFLOWERS

PEONIES

BASIL

PLC Sydney College Crow

THE ONION FAMILY VS

THE FORCES OF MOTHER NATURE

By: Aileen Huang, Isabella Loo, and Reina Shi (Year 9). Semester 1 2022

YEAR 7 COMIC CORNER

Time to get to work.

Hey, stop that!

Hey! Show yourself!

Ah, who are you?

Boo!

I'm Willow, the Hamadryad.

I protect this forest from people like YOU.

Willow the what?? Well... you're not doing a very good job. Now move.

I'm a tree nymph. No. I'm here to protect the forest.

Yeah, and I'm here to do my job. Move.

Do you know why I have to protect the forest?

No, and I don't really care.

PLC Sydney College Crow

Well nowadays many people have been chopping down trees to make space for cities, farm land, and to collect wood. But because of that we are all losing our trees and species are dying out. That's why we all need to work together to start replanting trees.

Great, let's get to work.

Ugh, fine.

Five Years Later...

Um, yeah, cool.

Well... Are you gonna help?

Look how nice the forest looks now that it has more vegetation.

Yeah, it looks great!

Oh, I need to get going. My shift at WWF is starting soon.

Wait! Yeah?

I'm proud of you!

The End.

By Johanna Grogan and Chiara Saad (Year 7).

Fibs! Food, Food, Bob

Bob, what happened to my Venus Fly Trap!?!?

Venus Fly Trap

Arrr Food turn Evil Bob Karate Dead Bob Win. Fly away Springfield Safe again.

Food

What really happened? * NOM NOM

By Emma Badger and Lily Summer (Year 7).

Greek Goddess Interview What is my real nature?

Written and illustrated by Sahana Kumar (Year 7).

Reporter: Well, hello, viewers! Welcome to Friday night, 10 p.m. My Nature Interviews! Aphrodite: Well, Ralph, or whatever your name was, aren't you going to introduce me? I have to go soon and apply my organic lip balm - my lips chap, you know. By the way, use organic lip balm to save Earth's resources! But we on Olympus don't really care. (uneasy silence) Reporter, alias Ralph: (stuttering) well, yes, O Great Aphrodite! W-we have with us here today the one and only Aphrodite, to tell us about her nature. Aphrodite: Well, I texted Ares this morning while drinking my protein shake, and guess what, he didn't reply! He hasn't said I have pretty bovine eyes in a long time - but I shouldn't be speaking about cows. Their flatulence is unbearable, plus the methane causes earthal warming! Reporter: Hmm.. (do I run or do I stay?) Aphrodite: I should've probably stuck to Hephaestus! I'm stressed out, and as my tai chi instructor says, take it easy. So I need to wear my hat (organic fibre, naturally) and go out. Seriously, you puny humans with your "climate change" concepts! Why don't you plant an immortal apple tree like Zeus did back in the day, so you don't have food issues anymore! Audience: (cue throwing rotten vegetables at the reporter, cue booing). Reporter: Well, that's all with our interview with Aphrodite! See you hopefully never aga... I mean tomorrow with our next interview! Signing off, alter ego Ralph.

Semester 1 2022

Illustration by Anna Wang (Year 10).

PLC Sydney College Crow

Love Rising from the ground, The sun breaks the horizon The light of my world But I am shaded, Only bright when reflected Outshined by the stars Burning balls of flame I am weary of your touch Why are you so nearToo close, too close; like Icarus, flying too closeToo dear to my heart The sky and heavens Part with the cracking of dawn; Soul shattered in two Here forever more, Doomed to eternal shadow, A moon, blinded by love Written by Carolyn Wang (Year 10), illustration by Jasmine Gifford (Year 9). Semester 1 2022

College Crow's Librarians in Residence Written by Jocelyn Arkapaw and Olivia Chan (Year 10). Illustration on page 48 by Olivia Chan.

Greetings. Welcome to the Book Recommendations Corner, written by two casual Year 10’s that are fumbling their way through high school :) Feel free to check out any of the books we’ve commented on, don’t let our opinions sway yours too much. This semester, we’re looking into the historical fiction genre, one I can’t say I’m quite familiar with. These books are all available in the library, hope you enjoy! - Olivia I’m excited to review these books this term. I hope some of our reviews are helpful if you’re looking into reading some historical fiction! - Jocelyn

Once Upon a River | Author: Diane Setterfield Library code: HIS F SET | Reviewed by Olivia: 4.2/5 I can appreciate a book with a good concept that the author hasn’t taken and absolutely butchered. Setterfield doesn’t go above and beyond but definitely has done the story justice. “As news spreads of the child who drowned and lived again, three families come to claim her, and the stories of three lost girls (and a missing pig) come to light.” - An excerpt from the blurb of the book. I was really hoping for a subtle crossover between mystery and historical fiction, although the blurb read more as a fairytale/historical fiction, which gives the novel a very nice ambience. The story is set in England during the “Darwinian age”, which I don’t believe is recognised as an actual age, but I’m pretty sure it’s set during the late 1880s (a long time ago, basically). The story covers a wide expanse of characters and their journeys, creating a complex and intricate plot. You do have to pay attention to keep up with each of them, but each character’s story is an intricately rewarding read. It can almost seem overly detailed since each character, no matter how small their part, has a rich story to go along with them. The author does a wonderful job of never lingering too long on one aspect of the novel, and she includes many very likeable characters. Setterfield masters this way of never allowing there to be a central character, you get to experience every single one. The closest we get to a protagonist is Rita, the character who brings together all these ambiguous stories and uncovers the unanswered mysteries behind them. There’s very little about this book that you can predict, there’s just so many components to it. The story has some very supernatural elements, especially associated with the river. The book had several twists and turns, yet I was actually very satisfied with the ending as it was captivating and emotional.

PLC Sydney College Crow

Book Recommendations Corner Salt to the Sea | Author: Ruta Sepetys Library code: HIS F SEP | Reviewed by Jocelyn: 4.1/5 I actually really enjoyed this book! Salt to the Sea is set in World War II and switches between the perspectives of four characters: Joana: A young nurse from Lithuania who is troubled with the guilt of leaving people behind in order for her to reach safety, whilst having empathy and a desire to help people. Florian: A Prussian man who ran from a place where he was unknowingly helping Germany steal things, rebelling against Hitler. I like how you see him really warm to other characters despite his tough appearance. Emelia: A Polish girl, nearing the end of her pregnancy, trying to reach safety and a place of security after escaping a horrific home. Her character is really sweet and I felt so sorry for her when I found out what happened (but I don’t want to give any spoilers). Alfred: An insecure German soldier who is constantly mocked, and who strives to be a hero and gain recognition for his supposed ‘bravery’. This is the character we are supposed to cringe at, and it works! I think these characters’ stories are intertwined really well, although it does sometimes make it hard to build empathy for each character, and maybe lessens the emotional connection usually made in books. But overall, I found it very engaging and I think the storyline was great, if a little predictable at the end. Side note: The book had some cool imagery, but the ending was a bit strange.

Silver People | Author: Margarita Engle Library code: HIS F ENG | Reviewed by Jocelyn: 3.7/5 This book was unique and not at all what I was expecting. I thought when I picked it up that it might be about a boy who tells his story from working on the Panama Canal. Instead, it is a novel told through poetry/verse and many different perspectives. These include workers, a local herb girl, and a few smaller parts for the ‘gold people’; the white men paid in gold coins. Even the trees and the wildlife are given a voice. I enjoyed learning more about this historical event as I had only heard about it, and had never really done any of my own research. I did not know how much hard work went into creating it, nor how many deaths occurred, or how prominent racism was at that time. The way this story was told was to the point, and some of the language was quite beautiful, and allowed you to experience what it might have been like for all these people. That being said, I would recommend this book to the younger years as the story/language wasn’t super complex or challenging, and the writing style seemed to be suited to a younger audience. Additionally, it wasn’t super action-packed, more of a gentle glimpse through the journeys of the people in the story. Overall, I did enjoy this book, but it was also extremely short – it felt like the story had only just begun as I was coming to the end, as you never got an in-depth insight into any of the characters.

Continues over page. Semester 1 2022

Continued from page 47. The Downstairs Girl | Author: Stacey Lee Library code: HIS F LEE | Reviewed by Olivia: 4/5 This book was so wholesome, honestly. It’s set in 1890s Atlanta and is centred around a young Chinese girl who is struggling in the “Gilded Age.” This girl is an advice columnist for a local newspaper. I love how the author would insert little snippets of her column responses. I found them either very humorous or very insightful and it was, in a way, a nice break from the story. I really appreciate that the author is depicting an Asian girl challenging issues surrounding both sexism and racism. (**Spoilers, watch out**) We find out that the protagonist is actually Eurasian (mixed) and I find it hard to believe that she would look fully Chinese, there are usually subtle differences - especially since the book specifies that she has similar features to her American mother. That bothered me, but to be honest, that has little impact on the book. (**Very spoiling**) I also find it slightly uncomfortable that she lives beneath her love interest but y’know... it’s ok. I have to say, if you’re looking for a compelling, “un-put-down-able” book, this is not it. It is a cute story about a girl slowly overcoming discrimination, it isn’t dramatic or very animated, but I enjoyed it quite a bit. The novel is very well-written with likeable characters and a view into the culture. The book gave me everything I was expecting so the concept was pulled off quite well. We love a good standalone, there’s too many series in the world today.

Cryptic Crossword (page 31) Solution

PLC Sydney College Crow

*NOTE: for comedy purposes, please do not take this seriously :)

hos ti

ed ck

f atta i le

The MBTI Foodchain

ESTP ISTP ISTJ ESFP

By: Isabella Loo, Euna Oh, and Tanika Young (Year 9).

Semester 1 2022

Here I Lay

Written by Ruby Phoon (Year 10), illustration by Sophia Miller (Year 9).

Here I lay Underneath the shimmering folds of water, Unknown and unrealised, Unremembered. But I do not mind Some of my sisters do. They seeth with loathing of humans. Of the waterways they have destroyed irrevocably For the streams, rivers, seas and oceans. Us Water nymphs are deeply affected by this. By the lack of worthwhile action to prevent such things, By the overwhelming amount of irrevocable actions We are used to scarlet blood seeping into our waters. Due to the pettiness of humans and their greed Brawls and wars never ending. I no longer have the capacity for the hope it will end For when you have lived long enough that you knew Atlas, War is a known and a dreaded. Bloodshed in the waters is not unexpected But the pollution of now, It clogs and suffocates. More nymphs die by this than they did going against Poseidon. I have felt the slowing heartbeat of the most beautiful creatures, Body stuffed with toxins. I have heard the pained low whine of dying creatures, I have felt the greasy second skin of dye and oil, I want to plead, beg and roar For there to be action, For there to be something done. I do not want guilt from the humans, I want them to do something. If their beloved homes were destroyed in front of their eyes a hundred times over, They would know only a shred of the deep pain in my gut With how I feel about my home being ruined, Perhaps irreversibly.

Hydrangeas Written by Iris Xu (Year 11), illustration by Lily Summer (Year 7).

Hydrangeas were her favourite flower. They reminded her of when she was a child, frolicking in her grandmother’s front lawn on Saturday afternoons- her grandmother loved the look of violet hydrangeas lining the walkway, and so did she. The way that their delicate petals clustered together to form a little cloud always brought about a sense of peace to her heart. So here she was, strolling amongst a sea of hydrangeas that stretched out beyond her view of the horizon. It was absolutely breathtaking- these flowers existed in almost every colour imaginable, and filled her soul with incredible joy. Her fingertips felt ecstatic as they grazed along each shrub, relishing in the sheer beauty that radiated from each blossom. She doesn’t remember how she got here, or where she even is. But she’s too happy to care. It did seem a bit odd that each individual bush was capable of producing almost every colour of the rainbow, she thought, as her eyes lingered across the field. She let these thoughts wash up on her, and then slowly trickle away each time she inhaled the sweet, intoxicating aroma. The further she walked, the deeper she delved into a state of pure bliss. She doesn’t know how long she’d been walking for when she spots a figure standing a few hundred metres away. As she wanders closer, she notices that the hydrangeas seem to be growing larger, and more vibrant with each step, like torches lighting the way to the end of a labyrinth. The scent grows sweeter, and her feet feel lighter. Something draws her to this mysterious silhouette, and once she’s only a few metres away, she realises why. “Nonna?” The woman turns around and smiles at her with those weary, comforting eyes. “Teresa, darling, I’ve been waiting for you.”

Bloom, Wither, Repeat Falling into the earth’s patches, Drops of water stream down my cheeks, Not only my cheeks – my whole existence. I cannot wipe these tears, Yet only let it begin my bloom. A day passes – I begin to rumble, A week passes – I grow taller, A month passes – a sprout appears, And before the sun sets once more, I have hands – what they call ‘leaves’. As the clock’s hands turn, My hands turn to evergreen. Just like other friends, We are all defined by green, But I grow to be ‘more’ than just green. They call me a ‘flower’. My hands are green, Yet my head – can be any such hue, Pink, yellow, blue – something not just green, But there is one that I do not rather like. ‘Brown’. At my end is that colour, No more green, pink, yellow or blue; But brown – a flower’s death, As we wither away into the earth. While life is so short, My cycle repeats; Another day – a day in the future, I fall into the earth’s patches again. As droplets trickle down my cheeks, And I begin to bloom once more. 52

Written by Kate Kim (Year 10), illustration by Jasmine Gifford (Year 9). PLC Sydney College Crow

Happily Ever After

Written by Alaina Ray and Victoria Chan, illustration by Amanda Huang (Year 8). Time was running out. She couldn’t worry about anything but the man she loved. The raindrops beat down harshly on the forest floor like knives piercing the earth. There was only forestry and rain for miles, torrents that kept everything dreary and fogged with gloom. Her dress became stained with mud and rainwater, and she could barely feel the ground beneath her numb legs. Every sound was intensified. Her vision focused only on the things directly in front of her. Everything hurt. Thankfully, she made her way to the castle. The mirror she was given was fortunately still intact, albeit waterlogged by the downpour. It no longer gave the same shine it had when the Beast loaned it to her, bearing a dull, grey look that didn’t match the grandeur of what was carved on it; roses and vines surrounding its edges, followed by a fierce lion decorating the handle. Swipe. Slam! Swipe. Slam! She could hear the struggle between the two men loud and clear, even through the thunderstorm. The mirror showed her exactly what she feared – the last few scarlet petals barely holding onto the stem. Her only goal was to find the Beast before it was too late, and there was only one place where all the stairs and hallways connected: The ballroom. One of the doors burst open. Smashing into the walls, Gaston wrapped his arm around the Beast’s neck whilst he struggled against him. Belle gasped, dropping the mirror. She reached for the handle that had been broken off from the ballroom door and lifted it above Gaston’s head. He rolled out of the way the moment she slammed the metal. However, doing so caused him to loosen his hold on the Beast unintentionally. Slipping right through Gaston’s arms, he stood beside Belle protectively. He snatched the door handle from Belle’s pale hands as Gaston wrenched a long sword from the wall nearby, an heirloom forged from carbon steel, dulled with age. Each attack was either blocked or dodged as both men fought with practised ease. Neither was advancing nor surrendering, eyes locked in cold rigidity. Belle glanced at the mirror with worrisome eyes, watching as one of the petals broke off from the rest, falling slowly as if it was taunting her. Her fingernails dug into her palms. It was now or never. Another grunt brought her back to reality, metal clashing together as the two fought with increased fervour. With a screech, Belle unsheathed a dagger from a nearby rubble. Her fingers firmly wrapped around the dagger’s hilt. Don’t let him die in the hands of Gaston. Not Gaston. Anyone but Gaston. Continues over page.

Semester 1 2022

Continued from page 53. She muttered the three sentences over and over like a mantra. She charged towards the two men, holding her weapon above their heads. Right before Gaston had the chance to dodge her attack, Belle rapidly brought the dagger down onto his head with all of her body weight. He roared in agony as Belle grasped the hilt of the now bloodied dagger with both hands. She twisted the blade, causing more pain for Gaston. A small smirk adorned her lips as her eyes glowed with desperation for revenge. She wrenched out the dagger from Gaston’s forehead, the last thing he could feel before the end of his life. The Beast stared into the abyss below the castle from one of the broken windows in the ballroom while dangling Gaston’s body like livestock over the edge. There was no hesitation. The Beast threw the limp body into the abyss below. Thud. Belle immediately wrapped her arms around the Beast. Despite his struggle against fatigue and blood loss, he still returned the embrace. A moment of peace, a second where the flow of time had seemingly stopped. There was only the present. Suddenly, the thought of the enchanted rose flashed into the Beast’s mind. His body immediately tensed within Belle’s grasp as he tore himself away from her. “Belle!” The Beast called her in a fit of distress, “I love you.” Shocked, Belle couldn’t answer. Her mouth hung open, speechless. “Belle! Please!” The desperation in his voice was genuine. He knew that any moment now, the last petal of the rose would fall. If Belle didn’t reciprocate, he would be stuck as a monster for all of eternity. Her vision washed over, no longer seeing the Beast in front of her. Instead, she saw the rose, the final petal hanging on by a single thread. Suddenly, the sound of the petal touching the bottom of the cage rang through her ears. The petal fell. Their embrace was cut short as the Prince found himself slumping on Belle’s small frame, holding onto her hips for support. The rose had stopped glowing; the last petal had fallen to the bottom of the glass cage. Between the two stood a silver dagger that dragged out the carmine from his chest, a pierce through the heart. He took his final breath, choking out a wrangled sound only she heard. She gave a gentle shove. His body fell to the forest floor; the shock etched onto his face. The blood of the Prince dripped from the tip of the silver dagger. The smirk was painted on Belle’s face. This time, it was full of evil rather than pride, her eyes darkening with a lust for blood. Her face bathed in the glory of the moonlight. She felt the most powerful she had ever felt in her entire life. “Happily Ever After…”