Meet Me in My Words:
The Banality Of Britt
There was never really a Plan B.
Britt Wolfe has been writing stories since she had baby teeth. Unfortunately, the publishing industry was not as enthusiastic about her brilliance as she was. So, naturally, she spent the next few decades reading, spiralling, and rewriting the same sentence 47 times while quietly collecting rejection like it was a competitive sport.
This website is not the product of a well-executed business strategy.
It’s a coping mechanism.
A digital scrapbook.
A 10,000-page book report on a two-page story that absolutely does not need that level of analysis. And yet—here we are.
She writes because it’s the only thing she’s ever wanted to do.
Also because it makes the voices in her head more manageable, and therapy is expensive.
A FEW CRITICAL FACTS ABOUT HER CHARACTER ARC
She’s married to an Australian man who is so attractive and supportive that she’s pretty sure she manifested him through sheer delusion.
She lives in secret layer with a husky named Sophie (a literal angel) and a cat named Lena (who is at minimum haunted, possibly feral, and definitely plotting something).
She once cried while holding a baby crocodile. Not from fear. From joy.
Her personality is 50% cat fur, 40% Taylor Swift, and 10% undiagnosed disorders that may or may not involve alphabetizing her closet.
She’s the youngest of two, which basically means her entire personality was shaped by trying (and failing) to live up to her older sister Andrea—who, for the record, has hair the colour of fire, the patience of a saint, and the kind of big-sister energy that makes you feel both adored and lightly roasted at all times.
She and Andrea are orphans.
HER WRITING, IF YOU CAN CALL IT THAT
Britt writes:
Love stories that will emotionally wreck you
Poetry for anyone who has ever been underestimated
Horror for the parts of you that still believe something’s watching
She writes fast, messy, obsessively, and entirely too much.
She’s published novels, novellas, poetry collections, and emotional support PDFs for people who feel a little too much all the time.
If you like clean plot arcs and characters who make rational decisions, this might not be for you.
But if you’ve ever whispered “just one more chapter” while sobbing into your pillow—
you’re home.
Britt Wolfe is living proof that dreams take time, delusion, resilience, and a disturbing amount of coffee.
She’s always writing.
She’s never satisfied.
And she’s going to keep doing this forever.
Sorry in advance.
Britt Wolfe’s Favourite Animals
After naming my top two favourite animals—both large, solitary, and capable of ending you with one paw—I’m finally ready to reveal number three: the red panda. She’s smaller. Softer. Significantly more likely to cry in public. But don’t be fooled by the fluff—this cinnamon-coloured tree gremlin is part style icon, part existential crisis, and entirely deserving of her place on the podium. She lives in the trees, avoids confrontation, and survives on a diet she is not equipped for. Basically? She’s all of us in a fur coat. Welcome to spot number three. It’s adorable, unstable, and wrapped in a tail you’ll never be cool enough to wear.
After naming eight of my top ten and realising I may, in fact, be a solitary animal that thrives in cold isolation, I’m finally ready to announce my second favourite animal in the entire world: the Siberian tiger. No other creature wears solitude so beautifully or power so quietly. She doesn’t need applause. She doesn’t need company. She needs snow, space, and silence. She is all muscle, all mystery, and just enough menace to make her unforgettable. Welcome to the top tier. It’s frosty, forested, and fiercely private—just the way she likes it.
After 99 animals, several identity crises, and more emotional attachment to weird mammals than I care to admit, I’m finally ready to declare it: the polar bear is my number one favourite animal in the entire world. No other creature combines elegance, fury, and emotional unavailability quite so flawlessly. She is massive, solitary, vaguely murderous, and quietly watching the world fall apart from the edge of the ice sheet. In other words: an icon. A metaphor. A role model. Welcome to the top of the list. It’s cold here—and perfect.
It brings me great pleasure—and a healthy dose of fear—to officially crown the mink as my 9th favourite animal in the entire world. Equal parts fashion icon and unapologetic menace, the mink is what happens when a bottle of expensive perfume grows teeth and starts hunting for sport. This creature is sleek, solitary, and slightly unhinged—in other words, absolutely my type. If you’ve ever wanted to witness elegance with a kill count, scroll on. The mink is here, and it’s wearing its villain era well.
At long last, we arrive at animal number eight—a creature so luxurious, elusive, and suspiciously fast-moving that it practically demanded a spot in the top ten. The sable is, quite frankly, ridiculous. It looks like a cross between a fashion-forward ferret and a forest cryptid, with fur so soft it has ruined entire economies and a face that says, “You can look, but I might bite.” I have loved this twitchy little menace for years, and now—finally—I’m ready to enshrine it where it belongs: just below the snow leopard, but several rungs above any creature that’s ever willingly worn a saddle.
It’s finally time. After years of silent deliberation, long walks in the mountains (mentally, if not physically), and a deep personal resonance with creatures who avoid eye contact and thrive in solitude, I’m ready to make it official: the snow leopard is my 7th favourite animal in the entire world. This elusive, bristly, heartbreakingly beautiful big cat has earned its place on the list—not just for its looks (though come on), but for its commitment to avoiding unnecessary interaction. In this latest edition of the Top 100, we honour the introverted icon of the animal kingdom—and possibly the only creature more glamorous and emotionally unavailable than I am.
Koalas have spent decades fooling the world into thinking they’re soft, snuggly little angels, when in reality, they are bristly, perpetually grumpy, and running on a diet that barely keeps them alive. They sleep 22 hours a day, scream like demons when they’re awake, and have somehow managed to convince humanity that they are adorable despite their questionable life choices. In this article, we’re pulling back the curtain on these clawed, eucalyptus-addled tree goblinsto expose the truth: koalas are not what they seem, and frankly, they don’t care what you think about it.
If you’ve ever looked at a chicken and thought, Hmm, this could be fancier, congratulations—you are not alone. Fancy chickens are what happen when nature and selective breeding decide that farm animals should also have red carpet moments. Some have bouffant hairdos straight out of an 80s music video, others look like they were styled by a particularly enthusiastic drag queen, and a few seem to be actively challenging the concept of vision. But whether they resemble feathered fashion icons or glorified tumbleweeds, one thing’s for sure—these birds take the phrase too much as a compliment.
If you’ve ever looked at a rhino and thought, Wow, that creature seems like it could single-handedly win a medieval jousting tournament, you wouldn’t be wrong. Rhinos are nature’s version of an overbuilt SUV—massive, indestructible, and occasionally prone to charging at things for no apparent reason. But beneath that tough, tank-like exterior lies a surprisingly sensitive soul (one that, much like your sunburn-prone friend, is just trying to avoid bug bites and UV damage). In this deep dive into one of Earth’s most prehistoric-looking wonders, we’ll explore the intelligence, absurd speed, and mild grumpiness that make the rhinoceros the undeniable star of any savanna showdown.
Seagulls: the undisputed masterminds of snack theft, the reason you can’t enjoy a beach picnic in peace, and quite possibly the most shameless creatures to ever take flight. But beyond their reputation as winged criminals, these birds are intelligent, adaptable, and alarmingly strategic when it comes to getting what they want. In this deep dive into one of nature’s most entertaining (and mildly infuriating) creatures, I explore the brilliance, audacity, and downright chaos of the seagull. Buckle up—this one’s for anyone who has ever lost a fry to the sky.