@blue-peach14 / blue-peach14.tumblr.com
this was cute until i realized the fish is probably trying to not get eaten
A fish trying not to get eaten wouldn’t slow down when the “predator” slows down. It also wouldn’t constantly swim in a circle near the edge of the tank; It’d try hiding. Also a fish in a tank in a a public place that is constantly filled with people is not likely to see people as predators.
Animals, I think people tend to forget, also enjoy playing.
saw a cool bird outside
sir is this your bird
YES!! THATS MY BIRD!!!!!!!!! YES
The Steller’s jay (Cyanocitta stelleri) is a jay native to western North America, closely related to the blue jay found in the rest of the continent, but with a black head and upper body. It is also known as the long-crested jay, mountain jay, and pine jay. It is the only crested jay west of the Rocky Mountains. It is also sometimes colloquially called a “blue jay” in the Pacific Northwest, but is distinct from the blue jay (C. cristata) of eastern North America.
Moss showing off his underwater pupil dilation, an adaptation that allows him to let in as much light as possible while swimming!
MOSS LOVES TO LOOK! HE CAN SEE AS MUCH LIGHT AS HE WANTS!
I wonder what cats dream of?
I have never been more riveted by a set of info before GIVE ME MORE
In case you’re wondering how smart rats can be, and if Ratatouille is real, then allow me to share this story: I once had two rats, River and Chell, both rescued from a laboratory as babies. Chell was whip-smart and liked to ride around on my shoulders as I walked around the apartment. She would recognize places she wanted to go, such as her cage or the sofa, and I would raise my arm up to let her run across to her objective. She quickly cottoned on to this and, in an entirely self-taught behavior, would run to one of my shoulders or another and tug on my sleeve, to signal me to raise my arm in the direction she wanted. In this manner she was able to steer me around the apartment and would frequently use me as a taxi instead of walking herself. She then taught her sister how to do it too.
Y'all should Google the article, it’s actually pretty neat. Basically, the Aldabra Atoll was once inhabited by the Aldabra Rail, a flightless species of bird that had diverged from the flying White-Throated Rail when a section of the population landed there and found they had no natural predators. However, the Atoll occasionally gets completely submerged, and all of the flightless Aldabra rails were wiped out. But then, after the Atoll re-emerged, a bunch of the EXACT SAME species of flying White Throated Rail decided to settle there again, and immediately proceeded to evolve into flightless birds AGAIN.
Resurrection by pure spite
So what you’re telling me is that the Aldabra Atoll spirit really likes flightless rails.
I really want a science fiction story where aliens come to invade earth and effortlessly wipe out humanity, only to be fought off by the wildlife.
They were expecting military resistance. They weren’t counting on bears.
Imagine coming to a hostile alien world and being attacked by a horde of creatures that can weigh up to 3 tons, run at 30 km/h (19 mph), and bite with a force of 8,100 newtons (1,800 lbf).
By the time you realise that they can traverse water, it’s too late. The surviving members of your unit manage to make it back by shedding their excess gear and running for their lives; the slower ones were crushed to death within minutes.
You later describe the creature to one of the humans you captured, wanting to know the name of the monstrosity that will haunt your nightmares for cycles to come.
The human smiles as it speaks a single word, slowly and distinctly, in its barbaric tongue.
“Hippopotamus.”
This is giving me the biggest, creepiest grin I might have ever grinned
Imagine being the next crew to go down to earth and thinking “it’s fine, we got this. We have the weapons and equipment necessary to deal with bears and *shudders* hippopotamuses. We’ll be fine.”
And at first you are, you’ve learned how to dodge. You’ve learned where their territories are. You know how to defend yourself.
But then one night you are sleeping in your shelter. You’re in a tree covered temperate part of earth. It seems benign. There are been no sightings of the dreaded “hippos” around. Not even any bears. But there is a slight rustle of the undergrowth. You try and ignore it telling yourself it is just the wind.
Then you hear the rustle again. closer this time.
You peer out into the darkness but see nothing amongst the trees.
The rustle again and now you realise you can smell something. It’s musky and slightly foul. It’s the smell of an omen, a warning. But what of? Where is this smell coming from.
You sit up, but it’s too late. The foul smelling creature is on you. You are hit with 17kg of coarse fur and vicious bites. Long dark claws tear in to you and you are pinned down white the striped creature tries to bite your throat.
It takes some doing but you manage to wrestle free. Blood drips from your wounds and already they itch with the sign of infection. The creature has a bloodied snout, rust rad, mingling with the black and white hairs. It lets out a terrifying growl from the back of its throat and looks to attack again. It’s between you and your knife, so your only choice is to back away.
Eventually the creature gives up and snuffles off in to the undergrowth, down a hole near your shelter you hadn’t noticed before.
When you make it back to your base you once again consult the captive human.
“Badger.” they say, with a solemn nod.
One word: Moose
“Our vehicles are far superior to the local human models, in range, speed, armament, and any other metric you care to name! Nothing could possibly-”
BAMrumblerumblethumpcrash!!!
“That’s called a moose.”
Wolverines.
Also.. dolphins.
The invasion is going slowly. The humans have caught on and are actively destroying information on the planet’s flora and fauna before Intelligence can capture and process it. All that they have are survivors’ accounts. Bears. Hippos. Badgers. Moose. It is becoming obvious this mudball planet is a full-on Death World to the unprepared, and you are so very unprepared.
You lost Jaxurn to a plant. Not even a mobile or carnivorous plant, just one that caused a vicious allergic reaction on contact that killed him in less than a rai'kor. Commander Vura'ko died to an insect bite, a tiny local pest that sucked a tiny bit of her blood and apparently replaced it with a bit of its last meal, which was full of disease. Backwash. She died to bug backwash. And yet you honestly envy them after that… thing you encountered…
When you got back to base the quarantine officer refused to let you inside. They had to roll a containment tank outside to put you in, because you all knew there would be no chance of eliminating the smell if it got into the ship’s air ducts. Smell. You wonder if your nasal slit will ever recover from this stench.
And the smell would. Not. Leave. After incinerating your gear the Q.O. had you use every cleansing agent they could think of, including a few janitorial ones, and still everyone fled the stench if they were downwind of your tank. Desperate to protect everyone’s nasal slits from the smell the quarantine officer interrogated the humans. From them, a glimmer of hope: there was a cure. Somehow the juice of a certain fruit on this mudball was the only thing that could break up the chemicals in the little horror’s spray. Immediately the Q.O. sent a team to recover buckets of the stuff and made you bathe in it. That was hours ago and it didn’t seem to be working, though. All it was doing was turning your blue skin an interesting shade of purple.
Sighing in frustration you wave the med-assist on duty over, who only approaches after checking the wind direction. Annoyed, you flip on the tank`s vox speaker.
“The humans did say it was “grape” juice that removed “skunk” stench, right?“
Every night.
It came for someone almost every night.
Any soldier alone was a viable target for this native monster that moved unseen by any but the security viewers, usually only spotted in hindsight. They were taken as silently as this earth-monster moved. Sometimes they’d find the remains in the morning taken up a tree and hung there, mostly eaten, as if it were a grisly reminder that the monster was still there, waiting unseen, to strike again.
What little they saw of the monster on the vidfeed showed true horror. Yellow eyes that shone with all the light it could gather. It had fangs as long as his grasping digits. Claws half that size formed curved hooks that allowed it to climb up their fortifications with impunity. And in the underbrush, its spots made it almost impossible to see clearly in the undergrowth, if it could be seen at all.
Even the native sentients, the humans, had a healthy respect and fear for it.
The earth natives called the monster a leopard.
It was a constant fear that muddied the senses, and let the monster hunt even more effectively as the soldiers were always on edge. Sleep deprived with fear, it made them even better targets for the monster.
But rumor was that there was worse on this planet. Rumors of a monster like a leopard but larger, and bigger in every imaginable sense. Stripped instead of spotted, which leaped from the underbrush with a sound.
A sound that burst eardrums, paralyzed entire units, and let the monster kill with impunity. While the Leopard wrestled soldiers down and ripped their throats out. This other monster, the Tiger, killed with its pounce alone.
“We’ve been through this,” Group Leader 455 snapped. “The dissection of an Earth life form will help the scientists make weapons to combat the rest of this planet’s hellbeasts. And these are domesticated. Harmless.”
The troops were not-quite-looking at her in the way troops do when they don’t want to be seen to contradict a ranking officer, but can’t quite muster a correct Expression of Enthusiastic Assent. “The name of this species,” she pointed out, “is synonymous with dullness and slowness in the language of the Earth barbarians.” Well, one language out of several thousand—these creatures needed Imperial guidance more than any other world on record—but there was no point in confusing the rank and file.
More not-quite-looking. 455 bubbled a sigh and consulted her scanner. “That one,” she decided. “Alone in the separate pasture. Scans suggest that it’s a male, which means it’s probably weaker. Possibly it’s kept isolated so that the females don’t eat it before mating season. And yes, I know some of you are here on punishment detail, but you’re still soldiers of the Imperium. This squad is perfectly capable of handling a lone, helpless, pathetic male cow.”
I’m enjoying this immensely. Wait until the aliens try Australia for size…
It was a strange creature Tar'van glimpsed at on the vast island known to the humans as ‘Australia’.
“I would warn you not to fuck with us, mate.” Their forced guide, a prisioner, had warned with a chilling grin upon capture. “If you think a moose is bad, wait until you tango with a red back.” To this day Tar'van fears the creature known as the red back, and what horrors it would bring.
The prisioner turned out to be of little help,the stubboness of his people causing them to refuse the danger that the captured human warned of. Tar'van recalls a moment when one of his squad members approached a creature know as a dingo, insistent they had seen these creatures before and they were tame. They barely escaped with 5 of the original 7 members of his squad.
Another moment Tar'van recalls was the brutal mauling they witnessed by the hands of a creature called an ‘Emu’
“Don’t feel too bad,” the prisioner mocked. “We lost a war to the Emu’s as well.”
Now with only 4 members of their squad left, including themself, Tar'van had learned to listen to the prisoner, to be wary of the simplest of creatures. This human was of the sub-species of ‘Zookeeper’ after all.
The ‘Zookeeper’ looks off to the distance, where the creature is.
“It’s a kangaroo, leave it be and you’ll be fine.” Tar'van nods, a human signal of acknowledgement if they are correct. The human smiles a bit.
“That creature cannot possibly harm us.” Tar'van’s squadleader protests. “It is so docile. I will aproach it and bring back it’s head to show this human is a fearmongering liar.”
The human reels back, a look of disgust crosses their face and anger passes through their eyes.
“Fucking do it mate, I dare ya.” The human hisses. The squad leader puffs up their hoinn gland, a sign of pride to their species, and aproached the so called ‘Kangaroo’.
“This will be unpleasant.” A squadmate mutters as they watch their leader raise their fist and bring it down on the creature. The ‘Kangaroo’ looks a little stunned by the impact, before it raises itself upon its strong tail and uses its powerful heind legs to launch their squadleader backwards through the air.
Their squadleader lands upon the ground, unmoving with black blooded oozeing from them. It appears Tar'van is the squads leader now.
“I don’t know what they expected.” the human says, smugness filling their tone. “Kangaroos are fucking shreaded. 8-pack and all.”
Tar'van steps forward to the human, whom inches back in a sign of fear as Tar'van pulls their blade from its holster, and in their first act as leader, frees the human of the bonds around their hands.
“Please,” Tar'van bags. “Get us back safely.”
@kryallaorchid, you guys really lost a war to emus? Why was it necessary?
oh, mate, you never mess with the emus.
(Jesus christ. Dont get us started on kangaroos)
They had faced Emu’s. They had lost one in the battle but had experienced them. But this was no emu.
Looking to their guide, they all stare in horror as his face changes from calculating to fear. Pure, heart consuming horror as he stares at the large bird. “Cassowary…” They mimic him in fear. Squawking the horrific name as another joins the first in the mad run towards them.
The only ones to survive was the native guide and Tar'van. The guide was carrying the soldier over his shoulder as they made their way back to the settlement. Tar'van was a wreck. Periodically alternating between rocking in complete silence and whispering broken words in horror. When they consulted the native all he said was “Its spring…. Magpie season…”
“Listen up, troops. This armour upgrade has been tested both in the laboratories of the best Imperial military scientists and in the field. We are impervious to the stings of any insect on this hellhole of a planet, striped or not! We can brave the perils of its wildlife, and conquer it at long last! Revenge for our fallen companions! Glory to the Emperor!”
“Excuse me,” the native Terran guide speaks up in a tired tone, and the squad’s cheers die on their lips. “This is Japan. You haven’t seen what–”
“Silence, worm! No sting can penetrate this plating!”
The guide tries to warn them once again, merely earning a blow that throws them to their knees. The troops set out, morale high, certain in their ability to brave the wildlife now and thirsting for vengeance against the non-sentient native species. One soldier thumps his fist against a tree. A hollow sound follows.
In an instant, the soldier is the centre of a storm of the striped insects. At first, no one pays it any mind. Their little stings cannot penetrate the new plating, after all.
But then the soldier falls to his knees, and the squad stares in horror as the insects enclose him in layer upon layer of their own bodies, all moving. The squad’s medic yells a warning at everyone to stay back, watching the readouts of the unfortunate soldier’s armour on their diagnostic screen with undisguised horror. The insects aren’t even stinging. They simply keep moving, one atop the other, and the soldier’s body temperature is slowly rising until he drops to the ground, quite literally cooked alive. The insect swarm takes off, unharmed save for the ones that were crushed when the trooper fell.
Finally asked about what happened, the human sighs. “Japanese honeybees. They do this to wasps, too.”
“How?” You ask. “How has your species dominated this planet?”
The human bares its teeth. A smile, they call it. Something humans do when they are happy. Yet you can’t help but think of all the creatures with the their large fangs and sharp teeth. (What kind of species uses a threat signal as a sign of happiness?)
“Persistence and ingenuity.” The human answers, still smiling.
It doesn’t matter that this one is your prisoner. Humans, you decide, are as terrifying as their planet.
“And scattered about it … were the Martians–dead!–slain by the putrefactive and disease bacteria against which their systems were unprepared; slain as the red weed was being slain; slain, after all man’s devices had failed, by the humblest things that God, in his wisdom, had put upon this earth.”
– HG Wells, The War of the Worlds,1898
I’m picturing aliens going up against a hoard of Canadian geese, or a swan.
I think at that point they’d just give up.
Or fire ants
No one even MENTIONED snakes yet…
This thing gets better EVERY FUCKING TIME I SEE IT.
“Let us try the creatures that the humans keep for domestic companionship”
“Is that a miniature tiger?”
“Why does this human own a small pack of wolves?”
The aliens ask their human captive why small wolves live with them.
“Oh, you mean dogs? Yeah, they’re the only animals that can keep up with us.”
The aliens look at each other in fear. “What do you mean?”
“Oh well that’s why you guys ‘won’ is because humans aren’t super fast or strong. I think my middle school biology teacher called us pursuit predators? It means we evolved to hunt things by following them at walking pace until they had to stop to sleep and then catching up to them then. Dogs are the only animals that can keep up with us. Did you know one time a pack of wolves tailed a herd of caribou for three days straight?”
“Uh… okay, what about these small round things with big teeth?”
“Omg dude no if you give a hamster enought time that little fucker can chew through concrete :)”
The aliens wonder if the surrender of humanity was a trap.
Somebody do sharks or sea creatures next. Giant squids would wreak havoc on their ships.
The aliens have sophisticated technology which pretty much allows them to live underwater, which is something even the inventive humans have never managed. Submarines have nothing on alien submersion pods, which can withstand the crushing pressures of even the darkest depths of the oceans and seas.
The aliens aren’t expecting any difficulties with their underwater expeditions. Of course, that’s when four of the life signs on the central screen simply vanish, like they’d never been there.
Alpha turns on the direct communication lines to the remaining submersion pods, and the only thing they hear through the tinny speakers is screaming.
Alpha resists the urge to turn and stare at the shackled human standing behind them, but Beta, Gamma and Theta have no such compunctions.
The human shrugs. “I mean, we’ve never really been down there so we’re not entire sure, but we’ve heard stories of giant squids and stuff. No smoke without fire, and all that.”
“There can be neither smoke nor fire underwater, human, cease your prattling.”
The human snorts. “It’s a phrase. A metaphor? Man, I don’t know, I studied marine biology, not literature.”
The human is unable to tell them anything useful about what might have happened to the submersion pods, but retrieved footage later shows tentacled behemoths snaking out of the depths of disturbed silt and cold water, and crushing the submersion pods effortlessly, in full view of the outer-hull cameras. The monsters have giant beaks which rip through the organic alloy sheets, and into the bodies of the pod pilots within.
The outer-hull cameras register the blue of fresh spilled blood and gore, at the same time the on-board cameras register screaming and the red glow of critical power failure.
The last thing the aliens can see on the retrieved footage is thin, long, snakelike creatures appearing out of the darkness and gloom, creating their own light and descending upon the remains of their brethren. They are accompanied by creatures that look like plastic bags, but which feed upon the toxic remains of the organic alloy of which the pods were made.
The human appears completely nonchalant - there is no love lost between slave and master. “Wait till you see sharks.”
Every time it gets better
this is my take two, and i fucking love this post.
Dihesil cautiously followed their leader onto the terrain. It is rough, though patches here and there are slick and glassy. Their human guide is terrified. It strains against the soldiers holding it, muttering frantically under its breath. “We’re gonna die, we’re gonna fucking die.” Squad leader Tarhsis seems unconcerned. As the small group approached the top of the sloping terrain, a slight rumble shook the ground. The human yelped and struggled worse than ever, and the guards scowled and lifted it straight off the ground to carry it along. “Please!” The human cried. “We have to retreat now, if any of us wants to survive! Please, I’m a geologist, I know what’s happening! We’ll be killed!” Tarhsis laughed. “Silly human. Your fellows have tricked us before, and we will not be tricked again.” They pointed toward the top. “Advance.” “No!!” The human kicked its guards in the loikinin glands and ran, the two soldiers left coughing and wheezing. Dihesil reluctantly raised their blaster to strike the human down, but Tarhsis stopped them. “There’s nowhere for it to run. We have camps down there, and we’ll punish it properly after we’re done here.” The squad had taken only another two paces when the ground rocked beneath their feet and threw them down. A horrible gasping roar began at the top of the incline, and bright orange liquid spilled out. The heat slapped Dihesil in the face, making them realize that perhaps the human had been right to flee. In the end, only Dihesil made it back to the sip and to the camps in time to warn the others. The human who had run shook its head as it saw the burns lacing Dihesil’s body. “I told you so.”
~~~~~
Yunor had been on the first ship to land on the island chain, and had seen their good friend die at the hands of something the Terran had called “Japanese honeybees.” It made them furious that such a small creature could kill their friend. Now, they swore to explore these islands and discover, conquer, and catalogue all of its deadly features.
Their three hundred and twenty-second day began quite well. They were off to investigate the water creatures that lived around the islands. Curiously enough, no rogue Terrans were on the beaches, nor were there any complicit guides on recreation. They greeted one of their other friends cheerily, then began combing the beach for creatures.
An hour after arriving, Yunor had been pinched by several “crabs,” and was becoming irritated. A tremor ran through the sand, strong enough to knock them off balance. It continued for several seconds, then ceased. They picked themself up and laughed, returning to the search. The ocean seemed to recede as he walked towards it, further than normal, and far out, it was rising into a massive wall of water. The sea approached fast, growing larger and larger as it came, and Yunor gasped, tried to run, but too late—
“A what?” Piklono shook the bars of the Terran cage. “What was it?”
“A tsunami,” one Terran said.
Another shook its head. “We told all of you not to go out today.”
“You want to go out now? After a fuckin’ snow storm?”
“We’d like to get this over as quickly as possible human.” It was true. This human country, Canada was it? Was large and cold.
It took far too long to get ready and the vast expanse of it made exploring the country difficult. This and Russia had very little volunteers for these exact reasons.
“Fine then, I guess. If you wanna get frostbite and amputate a toe or three than who am i to judge eh? Lead the way.”
The human rolled his eyes but remained compliant. Good. Retily wanted it to be over as soon as possible.
He did not like the cold or the way his comrades appendages would turn black in it.
——–
“Human hurry up!” Squad leader Fargin yelled, brandishing his prod to help move the human along. The human, whose name was Michael he found out from his collar, stood at the end stiff.
“Don’t-, Don’t fucking move guys.” The human, or Michael really, hissed.
Only then did Retily notice his eyes were much larger than normal. Was the human experiencing the so called frostbite it talked about? Than why was he staring off into the distance at that certain spot?
“Hey uh, Fargin i think i just saw something move?” Comrade Yurien said, staring at the same spot the human was.
Huffing Squad leader Fargin brought out his binoculars and looked where the two were. A small excited noise came from the back of his throat as he brought his binoculars down.
“Ah Human! No need to fret. It is simply an albino version of a black bear. Do not worry i shall take care of it immediately!”
What was meant to be reassuring sentence, and one of Fargin showing off his might, made the human pale considerably. He took a step back and dread filled his face.
“No fuck we need to-, we need to get out of here immediately. It ain’t safe. Just-. oh fuck oh fuck” The human seemed afraid of whatever this thing was. And if the human seemed afraid than Retily didn’t think it was smart to go after whatever it was.
“Pull yourself together human!” Fargin said, “Yurien and Mastive come with me. We shall dispense of this creature at once!”
The three set off towards the animal and each step they took made the human shrink behind Retily. It was all going so well but then the animal turned around and attacked.
Yurien was the first to go, with a bite to the neck and claw marks to the chest he bled out immediately. Fargin came right after, his screams echoing around the frozen tundra. Mastive however made a mistake.
Mastive ran.
The bear chased after him and in the distance they could hear loud screams of pain. The bear had caught up to him it seemed.
“Wha-, what was that?” Retily asked, immediately turning towards the human.
“A polar bear. Largest, most vicious, bear of bears and we’re fuckin’ lucky it didn’t notice us.” The human replied, still shaking and pale.
“Why?”
“Because” The human started slowly, disbelief crossing his face at the thought of still being alive “It hunts humans.”
They trudged through the musky swamp, the humid air sticky, their clothes sticking to their skin due to the sweat, even though it was nighttime.
“Human, where are we now?” asked Kron, the general. The human, Josh, who didn’t even seem fazed by the heat, answered, “This is Florida.”
A few soldiers had already been killed off to panthers and black bears, so the remaining decided it’d be best to travel at night when the wildlife were asleep. Before, there had been a total of twenty soldiers. Now there were only six.
Something brushed against Neerin, causing him to yelp, only to realize it was moss dangling from a tree. The stems reminded him too much of jellyfish tentacles that they had encountered earlier, causing him to shudder as he scratched at the stings on his legs.
As they continued trekking deeper into the swamp, the water became less shallow until they were no longer wading and had to swim instead. The faint sound of ducks quacking in the distance was almost a relief to listen to. At least they’d have food if they needed to stop for the rest of the night.
Suddenly, there was noise.
Everyone stopped, asking each other if they all heard the same thing. They scanned the area, but it was too dark to see. Thinking it was probably a fish, they resumed their trail. Surely nothing would attack them at night on water, right?
Then, there was the noise again, only it was closer and sounded like a low rumble.
Everyone paused. Something was stalking them. But what?
“Oh shit,” Josh whispered in horror. “Human, what is that noise we just heard?!” Kron demanded. “I recognize that sound anywhere, I heard it before while I was kayaking,” by now, Josh’s voice sounded panicked. Kron grew impatient, “Well? What is it?!”
Josh gulped, “Its an alligator.”
Before Kron could ask what this ‘alligator’ is, one of his soldiers let out a bloodcurdling scream as something dragged him beneath the water. Everyone looked around frantically, calling out his name, when a dismembered leg with a noticeable bite mark floated up.
All soldiers froze in shock when the creature resurfaced, baring its rows of bloodied teeth lining the inside of its elongated snout in rows, hissing as it swam closer.
“SWIM AWAY!”
Everyone scattered, frantically swimming as fast as they could. Unfortunately, the ruckus only attracted more alligators, which were faster and bigger. There was no hope for survival.
Kron hadn’t even noticed Josh escaped, paralyzed as he watched his army be dragged underwater, the sounds of agonizing screams and the snapping of jaws as the gators devoured them.
Then, he heard it. The guttural growl as one approached him. Even in the dark, the reptilian creature looked like it was… Smiling. Sadistic and hungry.
Grabbing a nearby stick floating in the water, Kron tried swatting at the carnivore, only for it to bite the wood in half and clamp its teeth into his arm. Kron screamed in pain, tugging at his arm in a panicked frenzy. The gator was relentless, only biting down harder with each pull until Kron’s arm ripped off, the remaining swallowed whole by the beast.
Tears and snot ran down Kron’s face, stumbling backwards as the gator swam towards him again. When he was able to think rationally, Kron pulled out his combat knife and aimed for the reptile’s back, but the blade didn’t even penetrate through its skin, like it was made of its own scaly armor.
There was that dreadful hissing noise again, only this time it was behind him. Then all around him. Kron was surrounded by the alligators who had finished off his men and were now focused on him for their last meal.
Kron whimpered in defeat and all the gators pounced on him at once, above and below the water. His limbs ripped off and chunks of flesh torn out of his body, the water turned red with blood, his screams echoing in the marsh as the alligators ate him alive.
None of the aliens survived. Only Josh the human.
“Good thing I’m a native Floridian,” Josh laughed in relief when he was finally out of the swamp, “otherwise I never would’ve recognized the growl of a gator.”
If you’re a native Floridian, you know to stay away from swimming (or even wading) in the swamps at night at all. Namely because gators are fucking everywhere. There’s actually a saying about how common they are. “if there’s a puddle, there’s a gator.”
Aisrain stared questionably at the human as she stopped. “Why aren’t you proceeding?”, he questioned, and the human slowly gestured towards the ground, at what appeared to be a tree root. “Cottonmouth.”, she breathed.
Aisrain snarled at the word, “Is that an insult? Don’t make me remind you of what happens to disrespe-” “Shut up.”, the human stated curtly, and Aisrain huffed, moving himself to stand in front of the human-
Only to gasp in pain as the “tree root” came to life, boring its fangs into his legs as the crew gasped in shock and horror as the creature clung to their leader’s leg for a few moments longer, then releasing him and wiggling into the brush.
Aisrain growled as a burning pain began to spread through his leg, and he glared intensely at the human guide.
“What. Was. That.”, he hissed, and the human smiled.
“A cottonmouth snake. Well known here, in South Carolina, for their pale mouths. That was a baby, unluckily for you.”, she grinned, and Aisrain yelled out in pain before placing his hand around the human’s neck. “WHAT DO YOU MEAN ‘UNLUCKILY’!?”
The human sneered.
“Unlike a mature cottonmouth, which will just bite you and deposit a bit of venom…”, she chuckled sadistically, and Aisrain’s pride melted away with her voice in her next words.
“A baby cotton will deposit ALL of its venom in one bite.”
The crew’s eyes widened, gasps filling the air, but the human held her hand up, silencing them. “It gets worse, Captain Aisrain.”, her words strengthened on the leader’s title, making him shiver under her sadistically happy gaze.
“Because you wanted to delve so deep into the forest for your research, we are no where near anywhere that can provide an anti-venom. I told you it was a bad idea.”
This is like a good wine, improving all the time. This is like bread dough, constantly on the rise. This is like cheese, getting sharper as it matures. This is like…
…time I should get off Tumblr and go eat something…
Still waiting for the sharks. And since lava, earthquakes and tsunamis have made an appearance, don’t forget quieter stuff like peat bogs (see you in 2000 years, and you’ll be so well tanned) and quicksand…
FUCK aliens ! we got these crazy shits under da sea and we’re not payin any attention!!!
By the way many pyrosomes light up intensely at night and likely inspired many nautical monsters and ghost stories
colonial jellies are also immortal bc their cloned individuals act like cells getting replaced in other, respectable animals, so while the individual dies, the colony organism never will provided it still has cells to clone. I struggle with the knowledge that colonial jellies and us still share a common ancestor
This speech-language pathologist taught her dog 29 words, and he can even form full sentences.
Video by Christina Hunger
Dogs actually do have a language center in their brains. They process language just the same way we do, just not as well.
They do understand our words. This is not true of all domesticated animals (horses, for example, can only manage to distinguish a relatively small number of spoken commands…but boy do they know what you’re really saying).
They don’t understand “just your tone of voice” as a lot of people think.
As of 2016 the record vocabulary for a dog demonstrating understanding of words is over 1,000.
So if you give them a way to talk back, they’re going to use it.
The development of language skills is probably a side effect of domestication and of being kept in close contact with humans. A dog that was a better hunting partner would be kept and bred and over time they developed a better understanding of language.
In other words, dogs are pretty dang smart because we need them to understand us.
And also that is a very good boy.
^ Would like to agree and make one amendment - very good GIRL. This is Stella the dog!
Check out the owner Christina’s Instagram: one of the first things I saw was a video where the dog started barking and, when prompted by the owner, said “outside, look look look look look look look, come outside.” Which is basically exactly how one would expect a dog to speak.
The owner described bringing an unknown package into the house, and the dog ran away to push the buttons for “help no no help help” which is also about what I expect goes on in a scared pup’s mind.
In another video, the dog tried to push a button, and the button wasn’t working. The dog paused and then pushed the buttons for “No. Help.”
In yet another (which the owner seemed impressed by), Stella said “come eat come play.” The owner asked the dog which she wanted to do, to eat or to play? And the dog clarified “come eat.” After eating, then the dog tried to instigate play. So the dog may have been able to understand a short spoken question, and how “questions and answers” work, and also understands sequences, even if she can’t express them (”I want to eat, THEN I want to play”)
Stella can even recount short-term memories, like when her family returned from the beach for dinner and she said “water good, no eat, play”
By the way, the owner uses the buttons as well, which probably really helps reinforce their meaning. She uses them to say things like “Stella all done eat” or “Stella and Christina go outside, bye!”
Wanna know my favorite part? Stella sometimes pushes the buttons for “Stella good” when she’s done a good job. Stella IS good! :D She also makes phrases using “love you,” like “Christina, love you, come play!”
*whispers* amazing
The skull of the Chinese Water Deer is one of the most iconic skulls out there.
Like many small Asian deer species, it does not have antlers. Instead the males fight each other with their extremely sharp tusks, slashing at rivals with downward head swings.
When not actively shanking others, the tusks can be folded back slightly., so they don’t interfere with eating.
Dragons
Deer, except they’re predators
@shittycryptids That’s a terrible one, especially because they’re real.
Switchblade Deer
in case anyone is wondering, they look like this:
While walking the dog yesterday, we found the tracks of a pack of wolves that had passed across the edge of our property. (I live out in the highway in Alaska.) I took a picture of my hand next to a wolf track for comparison.
Now here’s a picture of my hand with one of our dog’s tracks:
And he’s not an especially small dog; he’s a 55-lb retriever mix.
And the dog’s tracks next to wolf tracks:
Wolves are huge.
dude, i’m tellin you, for real Sometimes people ask if my klee kai is a wolf, like, seriously. And I’m always like oh no, ha ha he kind of looks like one, though, hunh? But inside I’m always like “uh, my dog weighs thirty pounds, wolves weigh more than me and my dog put together – if he was a wolf you wouldn’t be asking if he was a wolf, you’d be peeing your pants and demanding we leave”
like, a wolf is as tall when lying down as most dogs are standing. here, see for yourself. Labs are a very dog-sized dog, wouldn’t you say? Check this out
(this is a wolf in Alaska that found an unfenced dog park and slowly over the course of months learned how to hang out and have fun with the dogs)
SO BIG THO - here, have some more examples
Love me some wolves
lachryphagy is the term used to describe the behaviour of tear drinking in nature, typically in environments - like the purvian amazon shown here - where sodium and other micronutrients are hard to find.
bees and butterflies need sodium for egg production and metabolic purposes, but their diets of nectar are low in salt. so the orange julia and sulfur yellow butterflies you see here turn to the salty tears of often stationary turtles and caiman.
Forever grateful that the Wallace’s Flying Frog (Rhacophorus nigropalmatus) is a real living creature that exists on this earth at the same time as me.
As soon as I saw this my brain instantly just
he propel
please join the pokémon design team
