#squizzel
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Author: Squizzel
Prompts: Cupcake isn’t a cake. “You drink too much.” Lightening, danger, jealousy, lust.
Group: G
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The Storybrooke Whisky Appreciation Society
Gold didn't particularly like The Rabbit Hole. He didn't like crowds and he didn't like noise, two things the place had in abundance. But it also had two things that kept him coming back week after week. One was the rent he had to collect and the other was currently sitting at a table enjoying a round of drinks with her friends.
Lacey French.
They'd crossed paths occasionally and every time felt like a bolt of lightning shooting up his spine. He wasn't sure why, but something about her drew him in. There was a connection between them that went deeper than the few words they'd shared. One that he didn’t think was one-sided either.
So that was why he found himself settled at the bar with a glass of whisky doing his best to avoid obviously staring. Tonight she was wearing a black dress so short he could see every inch of her delectable legs, and heels so tall he wouldn't have thought it possible for her to walk in them had he not seen the evidence for himself.
Thinking about those heels sent his mind to sinful places and he forced himself to look away before he embarrassed himself. He was Mr Gold and Mr Gold did not get hard-ons in the middle of seedy bars.
When he glanced back he realised he'd been caught. She was heading his way with a smirk on her face that spelled nothing but trouble. Feigning an interest in his drink, he did his best not to react when he heard her voice beside him addressing the bartender.
“Another round of tequila shots, please.”
He surreptitiously looked to his right. She was leaning against the bar, giving him a fantastic view of her cleavage, which he judged to be entirely intentional based on the wink she sent his way.
“Mr Gold.” No matter how many times he heard it, his name in that accent always made him shiver.
“Miss French,” he replied, wrinkling his nose in distaste at her order. “You drink too much.”
“Oh, really?” She turned to face him and pointedly eyed the glass he was holding. “That's a bit pot calling the kettle black, don't you think?”
“Allow me to rephrase,” he turned on his bar stool to give her his full attention and smiled at the challenging look on her face. “You drink too much shit.”
“I drink shit?” The laughter in her voice told him she was more amused than offended.
“Yes. You see what I have here is a glass of Macallan single malt. A drink with a rich, complex flavour designed to be savoured. What you have there,” he used the hand holding his glass to point at the tray of shots the bartender had placed before her, “is paint stripper that will be gone in less time than it took to pour. Like I said, shit.”
“You're such a snob.”
“Guilty.” His smile widened into the predatory grin that sent lesser mortals running in fear but had no such effect on the woman before him. “Doesn't mean I'm not right.”
“Well, in that case you won't mind if I have a taste, will you?”
“Be my guest.” He placed his glass on the counter and slid it towards her, fully prepared for her words of judgement on his drink of choice.
He was not prepared for her sudden weight on his lap as she brought her lips to his. After a few seconds of shock he finally caught up to the fact that her tongue was probing for entrance which he gladly gave.
All rational thought disappeared. His brain was short-circuiting and all his synapses were firing at once. Everything else in the world fell away as Lacey kissed him as though her life depended on it, thoroughly exploring everything his mouth had to offer.
He only realised he had closed his eyes when he opened them again after she pulled away. Her own eyes were still closed and she licked her lips before speaking.
“Mmm, you're right.” She opened her eyes and looked directly into his. “That was definitely a taste worth savouring.”
Too stunned to do much else, Gold simply watched as she stood up, grabbed his glass and downed the remaining whisky in a single gulp before picking up her own tray of drinks.
“See you around, Mr Gold.” She winked at him again as she strutted back to her group of friends, who greeted her with a round of noisy cheers as she lifted the tray in front of her.
For now there wasn't much he could do other than turn to the bartender to order himself another scotch. He certainly couldn't get up any time soon if he wanted to maintain the illusion that Mr Gold did not get hard-ons in seedy bars.
~*~
When he returned the next night it didn't take long for him to find her again, standing next to the pool table with a cue in her hand.
And Gary Gaston far too close for Gold's comfort.
His grip on his cane tightened as he saw Lacey laugh in response to something the boy said, only relaxing slightly when she moved away to line up her shot.
His reprieve was short lived. Slowly, almost deliberately, she bent over the pool table directly in his line of sight, giving him a perfect view of her arse barely covered by the short blue skirt she was wearing.
It also meant he had a perfect view of Gaston's hand coming down on that arse right as she hit the cue ball, sending it wide.
Instinct taking over from rational thought he moved towards the pair as fast as his cane would allow.
“What the hell, Gary?” Lacey had whirled around on the boy, a formidable foe despite being a whole head shorter than him even in her heels. “You made me miss my shot!”
“I don't know what you're talking about,” Gaston held up his hands in a show of innocence. “I barely touched you. It's not my fault you choked.
“Bullshit.” Lacey slammed down the cue and held out her hand. “Cheating means you forfeit the game. Give me my money.”
“Aw, don't be like that Lace,” Gaston laughed, reaching out towards her. “Just because you lost doesn’t mean you need to get all hysterical about it.”
The outstretched hand was such an easy target and Gold brought his cane down hard. The satisfying crack echoed throughout the room in concert with Gaston's cry of pain as he cradled his injured limb to his chest.
“What the fuck, old man?”
“I suggest you give the lady her winnings.”
“Why? What's it to you?”
“Let's just say, I don't like cheats.” Gold lifted his cane again. “Now, are you going to give her her winnings or do you need another lesson in manners?”
“Whatever.” Gaston fumbled in his pocket, pulling out a crumpled bill that he threw at Lacey with ill grace before making a hasty retreat. Gold could just about make out the words “fucking psycho” in his fading mutterings.
“I was fine, you know.” Lacey had turned her glare on him, but he couldn't help notice the way the corner of her mouth turned up as though she was trying not to smile. “You didn't need to hit him.”
“I know,” he replied, leaning closer as though imparting a secret, “but it was fun.”
That elicited a laugh from her. One he was pleased to note was even longer and deeper than the one she'd given Gaston.
“Come on.” She linked her arm with his, turning them towards the bar. “Let me buy you a drink. How does Macallan and coke sound?”
“Like an atrocity that would have you barred from Scotland for life.”
“In that case I better not risk it.” The smile she gave him caused his stomach to flip wildly. “I have a feeling I would enjoy Scotland.”
“Yes,” he replied, images of an impossible future flying through his mind as he stared at her face. “I think you would.”
~*~
He was at home the next evening when the doorbell rang. The sight of Lacey on his steps was an unexpected but not unwelcome surprise.
“Hey!” She smiled, “I missed you at The Rabbit Hole.”
He blinked. “It's Sunday.”
“So?” She frowned slightly, before shrugging and holding up a white box. “Here. Our chat about whisky and coke got me thinking. Have you tried whisky and cake?”
Gold eyed the box with interest. “You made whisky cake?”
“Well, no. I Googled it and it sounds disgusting, so I made cupcakes instead.” She lifted the lid to reveal a pair of small caramel coloured cakes. “Whisky batter with whisky frosting. I thought we could savour them together.”
“In that case, please come in.” He opened the door wider and stood aside to let her pass, “I believe I have a 40 year old Glenfiddich that would pair beautifully with that.”
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The falcyons, once the dominant aerial predators of HP-02017 in the Therocene and Glaciocene, which preyed upon both grounded prey and other flyers, have seen a significant level of decline since the coming of the pterodents, some of which filled large, soaring scavenger, seagoer and migratory forager niches and thus gradually pushed the falcyons aside. Yet the falcyons, despite the competition, are doing quite well even in the Middle Temperocene, thanks to a fairly recent adaptive radiation at the Temperocene's dawn that allowed them to claim new niches and make a living in a changed world.
Some, such as the eastern Gestaltian triathler (Triathlopteryx gestaltis) have become generalists, taking advantage of any food source they can find. Triathlers, in particular, gained particular success thanks to being good runners, flyers, and swimmers all at the same time, allowing them to seek food in the sea, on the shore, or in the air, snatching up any small prey they can grab in their jaws in a wide variety of environments that reduces the pressure of competition. Hunting insects and wingles in the air, shrish and pescopods in the water, and small crustaceans and mollusks on the shore, triathlers such have many options and no shortage of available food should seasonal availabilities of one prey item come and go. Nesting in cliffside rookeries by the hundreds, even thousands, triathlers boast precocial young that can hunt on land within a few weeks, even while still under their parents' care, but still have to learn, through imitation and experience, the skills required for the air and sea.
Not all the falcyons, however, are as versatile, but are much more specialized in one specific medium. The swift airstrike (Velocipteramys aerovenatrix) is notable for its aerial prowess, able to dive-bomb its prey at incredible force and speed. Easily one of the fastest flyers, the airstrike specializes on hunting smaller flying ratbats, knocking them from the sky with such power that they are instantly stunned or killed upon impact, which the airstrike then snatches up midair. They live and hunt in mated pairs, with the female the larger of the two, as the smaller male can take on smaller but more-agile aerial prey and thus reduce competition with his mate during the breeding season, when she needs far more calories than he does.
On the other hand, the ground pterrier (Terranyctocyon ambulus) is, conversely, a far more terrestrial species. While a perfectly capable flier, it instead greatly prefers to hunt on the ground, or in trees, chasing down squizzels, furbils, duskmice and small rattiles in grounded pursuit, before pouncing upon them to pin them with its wing-claws and dispatch them with a bite. Ground pterriers rarely take wing unless threatened or provoked, or when traveling longer distances to find new hunting grounds, mostly preferring to roam on foot while foraging.
While fierce acrobats in the air, falcyons, like many ratbats, are more vulnerable on the ground, and thus the reason even the more ground-dwelling ones are still capable at flight. They are at their most exposed during the time when they are nesting: as pterriers and their relatives build their nests on the ground in hidden dens concealed by overlying plants, where their young, not flighted until they are several months old, remain. One of the pterrier's relatives, the wounded bloodwing (Erythropteryx pseudosanguis), has developed a peculiar strategy to protect its young: females possess bright red marks on the dorsal surface of their wings, hidden when folded and walking. If a predator is in the vicinity of the nest, however, the mother bloodwing will make a display where she pretends to be injured, flashing the red mark on her wing and making distressed sounded cries and limping motions to create the illusion of an easy prey. This is all a ruse, however, to lead the threat far away from the nest, and once she reaches a save distance she drops the act and flies off, leaving the confused enemy in the dust.
Among the largest and fiercest of the Temperocene falcyons, however, is the skewering harpshrike (Phobocynonyctus crucifigere), with a wingspan of up to five-and-a-half feet. Native to arid desert or semidesert regions of South Ecatoria, this unique species is remarkable for being a larger-scale predator able to tackle small hamtelopes, podotheres and zingos on occasion, which it then stores away in a grisly fashion: a larder of thorny trees, with the impaled half-eaten, dried carcasses of small animals hanging from their branches. But perhaps its most unusual feature is its rather canine-like head bearing facial markings that, by coincidental convergence, came to eerily resemble those of the sapient calliducyons: earning the harpshrike a place in their folklore as "person-headed flying monsters" notorious for occasionally snatching up unwary pups who stray too far from their parents.
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#speculative evolution#speculative biology#speculative zoology#spec evo#hamster's paradise#species profile
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TMI Tuesday
So, I’ve answered TMI Tuesday asks before but I’ve never made a post myself because, well, I haven’t really had anything to talk about.
Until now!
Because the Rumbelle Showdown 2023 authors have been revealed and I can finally say that I’ve actually written fic! And those fics were well-received enough to get me to Round Three, which I still can’t quite believe!
And while I may not have won the main contest, I’m still the winner of Best Pseud cos apparently people really liked the name Squizzel!
So, yeah, if anyone wants to ask me questions about my stories or the Showdown or why I wrote three Lacey fics when I went into the contest convinced that I would only write Belle then hit me up!
The Storybrooke Whisky Appreciation Society
Weakness
Star Crossed
#tmi tuesday#my fic#and yeah#i am going to put them on ao3#just as soon as i stop being intimidated by the posting page lol
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Nelly the Technosquirrel is owned and commissioned by Arona Kallz
Posted using PostyBirb
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#GenesisKids #Review @squizzel_box June subscription box - the Magic of Flight! . #SquizzelBox is a monthly themed subscription business which make learning fun for children. . @OdeliaGenesis @GwenxGenesis @EdnaGenesis receive theirs in squeak of Joy and had fun putting the Flight toys together. Swipe left to see! . Brand Background Squizzel Box: They are an online store that curates themed subscription boxes for children every month. Squizzel Box provides thematic hands-on learning activities that are developed in consultation with teachers, to support key developmental skills for kids ages 3 and up. . Every month, subscribers will receive an all-in-one fuss-free package for them to bond with their children through purposeful play. . Their boxes are jam packed with hands-on activities and prepacked materials to help busy parents save prep time and indulge in bonding. #TheGenesisFamily #GenesisFamily #GenesisFamilyReview #Squizzel #OdeliaGenesis #GwenGenesis #EdnaGenesis #youtuberkids #kidinfluencer #kidmodel #youtubekids#kidyoutuber#kidvlogger#kidgamer#InstaKids#kidinfluencer#funnykids #sgfamily#sgkidkol #sgkidinfluencer #sgkidsinfluencers #sgkid #sgchildren#kidssg Familyforlife#sgparents#Familytime#familyinfluencer#familybonding + (at Singapore) https://www.instagram.com/p/CB9C8jiHf-n/?igshid=1ssare9rko0z3
#genesiskids#review#squizzelbox#thegenesisfamily#genesisfamily#genesisfamilyreview#squizzel#odeliagenesis#gwengenesis#ednagenesis#youtuberkids#kidinfluencer#kidmodel#youtubekids#kidyoutuber#kidvlogger#kidgamer#instakids#funnykids#sgfamily#sgkidkol#sgkidinfluencer#sgkidsinfluencers#sgkid#sgchildren#kidssg#sgparents#familytime#familyinfluencer#familybonding
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Top 5 animals
Top 5 RWBY weapons
:D HIII ZAC 👋
Uh ok so animals woo:
1) squids (you're a squid you're a kid you're a)
2) cat (I'm basically a collector 😎)
3) jellyfish (they just bob up and down and they glow)
4) octopus (do you see a theme here?)
5) squizzel (or a squirrel to you common folk)
Rwby weapons oooooh:
1) gunchucks gunchucks I don't even remember what they're called but gunchucks
2) Yang's gauntlets. Tbh my favourite sound in the world is the rwby gunshot sound effect. It's so satisfying and Yang's gauntlets are literally just the sound effect.
3) long memory. Bias reasons.
4) magnihild (is that how you spell it?) I love the concept of taking a hammer to war and just hitting stuff hard. Berry punch was designed to just be a staff to hit stuff hard with)
5) Glynda just uses a fucking whip guys
Ask me about my top 5 anything :D
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A cute squizzel checking out our wildlife camera. Oh hiii cutie 🐿 🥰 @anonymous_josh_official • • #squirrel #wildlife #nature #gimmiethenuts https://www.instagram.com/p/CIk67TcgRMwUhuAZmR3_riYIdePD4nyVAPfDys0/?igshid=74jeu9q1imu
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Few more snaps of the garden birds, plus the thieving little squizzel that keeps pillaging the bird feeder
#mine#british wildlife#eurasian blue tit#european robin#great tit#grey squirrel#whatever the hell that other bird is#might be a juvenile blackbird#photography
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Whenever I see a squirrel, I gesture to it and yell “squizzel!”
me when i see a cat: CAT! cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat
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*gifts you 50 cats and squizzels*
ohmigoshohmigoshohmigoshohmigoshohmigosh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
#Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!!#all my dreams came true#what will i do with so many floofs#raise an army for one#a mighty mighty army#trained to give hugs#the hugarmy#the perfect crime#so soft you never see the kitties coming#attack squirrels#they will attack you with love#Anonymous
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Author: Squizzel
Prompts: Stroking hair to soothe. “Take me with you.” Baking.
Group: B
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Weakness
“Come back to bed.”
Gold smiled over his shoulder at Lacey’s sleepy voice. She was gloriously naked, wrapped up in his covers, looking like temptation personified.
“Sorry, sweetheart.” He turned to face her, pulling on his jacket. “Delightful as that sounds, I do have to open the shop today.”
“Take me with you, then. It’ll be fun.”
“I doubt that. There’s nothing for you to do there.”
“Well, that’s not true.” Lacey eyed his trousers pointedly. “You’ll be there.”
“Touche,” Gold smiled, leaning forward to give her a quick kiss, pulling back before she could deepen it further. “But then I would definitely get no work done.”
“Spoilsport.” Lacey smirked. “Fine, go work. I’ll see you later.”
~*~
Gold’s morning passed slowly and he found himself regretting not following Lacey’s suggestions. The sound of the bell above the door gave him hope that she had ignored his words and decided to visit after all, so he pushed through the curtain with a smile that died as soon as he saw the figure on the other side.
“Mrs Mills.” Planting his cane between his feet he waited for her to turn towards him. “What an unexpected displeasure. I thought I made it clear that you’re not welcome here.”
“Put the knives away, Gold. I’m here because I have a business proposition for you.” Cora indicated the file in her hand. When he made no move to take it, she walked forward and held it out to him. “I think you might find it interesting.”
He waited a few seconds before slowly reaching out to take the folder, flipping it open to peruse the contents. As he recognised the papers he frowned, glancing up at her. “This is exactly the same proposition I turned down last time.”
“I know, but I thought you might have a change of heart.”
“And why on earth would you think that?”
“Because last time you didn’t have a weakness.” She must have seen the confusion on his face as she continued, “I still have my sources in town and they tell me that you’ve got yourself a little girlfriend.”
Gold felt his jaw clench. “What does she have to do with this?”
“She’s quite the beauty from what I hear. Young, too. Makes me wonder what she’s doing with… well, someone like you.” Cora’s eyes trailed over his body in a way that clearly indicated she found him lacking, before she leaned forward as if sharing in a secret. “It’s the money, isn’t it?”
Gold took an involuntary step back. “That’s none of your business.”
“Perhaps. But I’m sure you remember my business partner, Killian Jones. He’s been feeling lonely lately and would love to meet a beautiful young woman like that.”
In less than a second Gold’s cane was in his hand, ready to strike. “If you so much as think about hurting her…”
“Oh, don’t be so crass,” Cora laughed, pushing his cane back towards him. “I’m suggesting no such thing. But Killian is young, handsome, and, thanks to our recent business ventures, rather rich as well. Given the choice, who do you think your young lady would prefer?”
Gold scowled. “What exactly is it that you’re suggesting?”
“Sign the proposal and I’ll tell Killian that your girl is off-limits. Or don’t and see how long it takes this one to leave you for a better option.”
“Get. Out.” Gold snarled.
“Your loss. Do let me know if you change your mind.”
~*~
Gold was in a foul mood when he returned home, Cora’s words still whirling in his head. He tried not to lend them credence, but she’d always been a master at nailing his insecurities.
Opening his front door the first thing he noticed was an enticing smell emanating from the kitchen, where he found Lacey pulling a tray of cupcakes from the oven. She was an incongruous mix of sexy and ridiculous, clad only in one of his shirts and the novelty lobster apron she’d insisted on buying during their trip to Portland.
“Hey! Welcome home!” Lacey beamed when she saw him, skipping over to greet him with a kiss before pulling back in worry. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” He stepped back. “Are you baking?”
“Yeah, I thought I’d try rum cupcakes this time. Rum for my Rum” She leaned into him playfully and he smiled weakly at the nickname. “Oh, come on. Seriously, what’s wrong?”
“I’m fine.” He tried to move away but she was quicker, grabbing his arm.
“No, you’re not. Come here.” She directed him to take a seat on the large couch before settling beside him and pulling his head down to her shoulder. “I can always tell when you’re tense. Do you want to talk about it?”
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
“All right.” She reached up and began running her fingers through his hair. He closed his eyes despite himself. She really was very good at that. “But I’m here if you want to tell me. Or I could give you the best blowjob of your life. I hear that’s a very good stress-reliever.”
“Hmm.” Gold hummed, feeling himself relaxing at her words. Somehow she always managed to make him feel better. He was still getting used to having someone who genuinely cared about him.
Gold sat up suddenly, turning to Lacey who looked at him expectantly, her hand still in the air where his head had been.
“Actually, there is something…”
~*~
Since becoming a couple Gold had far less incentive to visit The Rabbit Hole on non-rent days. Lacey still enjoyed going out for drinks with her friends, but he rarely joined her.
This evening was different though. Lacey had said he shouldn’t come, but he couldn’t help himself. He knew Killian Jones would be about and had to see for himself what was going to happen.
He found a spot in the corner where he could just about make out the table where Lacey’s group sat.
It wasn’t long before Jones joined them, zeroing in on Lacey. Gold could tell from their body language that they were flirting and he gripped his table to prevent himself from stalking over and staking his claim.
Jones was showing her something on his phone. Lacey’s face flickered in surprise before she smiled and reached out, taking the device from his hand. He seemed only too happy to allow her free rein to swipe through as much as she wanted, preening like a peacock every time she looked up and made a comment.
After a while she handed the device back to him with a beaming grin and Gold realised he’d had enough. Slipping out the back, he returned to his house. He’d see what Lacey had to say when she got home.
~*~
Cora’s visit the next morning came as no surprise. Gold expected her to be keen to press her advantage.
“Mr Gold.” Her smile was predatory and Gold forced himself to keep an even expression. “My associate tells me he had a very enjoyable evening last night. Apparently he and your girl hit it off extremely well. So I was wondering, have you given any more thought to my proposal?”
“As a matter of fact, I have.” Gold held out the folder, which Cora took with satisfaction.
“I knew you’d see it my way.” She opened the cover and Gold enjoyed the way her expression shifted from victory to confusion. “What’s this? Where did you get it?”
“That, dearie, is what is commonly known as blackmail material. And as for where I got it. Lacey?”
Lacey emerged from the curtain. She sidled up to him, wrapping her arm around his waist, before addressing Cora.
“Turns out your business partner isn’t too bright. He showed me a dick pic about two seconds after meeting me and was only too happy to let me have his phone when I said I wanted to see the rest. Genius doesn’t even protect his work email with biometrics.”
Gold smiled at the look on Cora’s face. “It’s all right. I have no idea what that means either. But the pertinent thing is we now have copies of his recent messages and they do not paint either of you in a good, or indeed legal, light.”
Cora was apparently struck speechless, so Gold continued, relishing his victory. “If it makes you feel better, your manipulations almost worked until I remembered one important detail. You called Lacey my weakness, but she’s not. She makes me stronger. Once I remembered that, I told her everything you said to me. She wasn’t too happy about it.”
“Only with him for his money? That’s ridiculous!” Lacey sounded just as outraged as she had when she first heard it. “Clearly you’ve never seen his penis.”
“Lacey,” Gold admonished softly.
“What? It’s a very nice penis.” Her smile turned wicked as she pulled him closer. “In fact, I’d like to get reacquainted with it right now. Goodbye Mrs Mills, don’t let the door hit your arse on the way out!”
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The Late Rodentocene: 20 million years post-establishment
Pop Goes The Squeasel: Squeasels of the Late Rodentocene
Once just small, agile predators that hunted small prey both on the ground and in the trees, the long-bodied squeasels have diversified across many ecological niches as of the Late Rodentocene. The squeasels have since become the primary predators of the time period, usurping the earlier hammibals and spreading across the main continents of Nodera, Easaterra, and Westerna: but, notably, arrive far later to Ecatoria, allowing the hammibals to dominate there instead.
The desert meerca (Paramustelamys manori) is one such latecomer: having arrived to Ecatoria when the hammibals had already given rise to the predatory hamyenas, it was too late to claim the local ecosystem's niche of top predator. Thus, the meercas and kin continued to survive on the Ecatorian mainland, but only as small-scale predators, foragers, and insectivores, banding together in tight-knit family groups or seeking refuge in the presence of larger, symbiotic animals, in order to defend themselves from the hamyenas to whom they had become prey.
Similarly, the bare-tailed diremouse (Macrorattocricetus magnus) would grow to a larger size than its Middle Rodentocene kin, but not specialize much further. It and the rest of its group, the scabbers, would remain another set of small-scale hunters comparable to shrews and mustelids, that would only find success much later on Isla Centralis in the Glaciocene when the isolation and lack of larger competition would allow them to become the local primary carnivore clade. For now, the bare-tailed diremouse contents itself with a niche of a small and unremarkable forest-floor predator, preying on insects, furbils and duskmice.
But elsewhere, other lineages of squeasels, particularly the ferrats, are thriving and diversifying in this incoming new era of ever-larger prey. The striped panthster (Protopantherocricetus longicauda) is one of the largest carnivores alive at the time, adapted for hunting and preying upon the increasingly bigger hamtelopes and cavybaras of the Late Rodentocene. Bearing powerful jaws, semi-retractable claws and a long tail that aids it in balance when stalking and ambushing its prey, this cunning ambush predator continues its ancestors' abilities to tackle large prey with the help of cutting incisors and shearing molars that allow it to put animals bigger than itself on its menu.
Meanwhile, up in the treetops, the arboreal bossums too have prospered, in particular with the abundance of tree-dwelling prey, such as squizzels, kiterats, and even the earliest proper flyers, the basal ratbats, that still did roost in the trees. In particular, the beginnings of the early prosimian-like lemunkies have emerged to exploit the bumoer crop of fruit and seeds and small invertebrates in the treetops: but so too would come the lemunky treeasel (Sutormustalamys popii) that would develop opposable digits on both front and back paws that grant it great dexterity and agility in the trees, rivaling that of its lemunky prey. Its predation would, in fact, kickstart the evolution of the lemunkies themselves, becoming larger to better defend themselves, more social, to rely on strength in numbers, and, consequently, more intelligent as a side-effect of their increased sociality.
And with an abundance of vacant aquatic niches, some of the ferrats would take to the water and become the searets: excellent swimmers and ferocious hunters that paddled with their flat webbed feet and used their tail to steer, making them quite maneuverable. These semiaquatic predators would diversify quickly first in freshwater and later coastal habitats, preying on shrish, gastropods, pondrats and even ambushing small terrestrial animals coming to the water to drink. But an important turning point would be the marsh searet (Lutrodiromys atrox), a particularly large species that specialized on hunting hard-shelled shrish, using powerful jaws to crush their exoskeletons. It and its close relative, the lake searet, would be the early pioneers of a clade that soon found its way to the Centralic Ocean, where their skill at hunting large shrish allowed them to usurp the shrarks as the reefs' primary large predators.
In the Therocene, these new specialized squeasels would be the forerunners to the major carnivore clades of the era. From the striped panthster would arise the large ambush-hunting carnohams that would become apex predators adapted for hunting boingos and hamtelopes in the plains as they developed longer limbs and shorter tails, shedding their mustelid-like build in favor of a more-feline one, while in the treetops, from the treeasel would descend the treegers, arboreal lemunky-predators that evenly match their agile quarry in the forest canopy. And in the oceans, still mostly devoid of hamsters, the coming of the searets and their subsequent displacement of the shrarks would prove conducive to allowing other clades such as the bayvers and the cricetaceans to finally take to the sea, while the searets would give rise to the leviahams, numbering among them some of the biggest marine predators during the Glaciocene when the cold seas were at their most productive and conducive to biodiversity.
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Lethal Squizzel #lethalbizzle #squirrel #jme #tempat #workout #nature #bbc #dench #fluffy #shuffle #planetearth @lethalbizzle @boybetterknow (at Holloway, London)
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When I wrote my downbeat and reflective post on Sunday I hadn’t seen the news about Saturday’s terrorist attack in London.
I have now – and if ever there was a need to try and see the brighter side of things I think it’s today. It would be wonderful if everyone with hate in their hearts suddenly woke up tomorrow and decided that they were going to stop trying to kill each other – and just tried to see the beauty in life – but I don’t think they will.
One can dream though.
My personal problems seem insignificant as I type this evening – but honestly it’s not all because of the horror on TV regarding this pointless atrocity. I went out on Sunday morning primarily with the intention of re-framing my perspective – and taking the time (quite literally) to just smell the roses.
The retail therapy I mentioned in my last post was related to me buying something (although admittedly not a necessity) that would help me focus on the little things and make sure I went outside.
I bought myself a new camera and then went hunting for nature.
Maybe the most obvious things to take pictures of are flowers – but in this case it’s not really the best time of year for them. A lot are wilting – but there are some that are doing just peachy – and lots of busy little bees are out there in force gathering up their pollen.
I couldn’t help but chase squizzels around too – and although I missed this gorgeous little guy posing in front of me eating a nut of some kind (my camera was in my bag dammit!) I just caught him at full zoom as he made his escape to higher ground.
He wasn’t the only one that caught my attention. I also spent a while by the pond in Jephson Gardens watching a particularly shouty duck – who was clearly having some kind of domestic row with his partner. I’m not sure which one it was that forgot to buy milk – but he was definitely letting her know about it.
Elsewhere life continued at a slightly slower pace – and further down the food chain on a leafy road just outside Leamington a more leisurely creature was in search of a salad for lunch, having just survived a torrential downpour under its pearlescent cover.
However gravity seemed to be something of a pressing concern in this newly moist environment and it was clear that this teeny traveller might have packed a bit too much in its rucksack for the journey ahead. It was slowly sliding down the leaf as I watched, leaving a trail of shiny slime in its wake.
It was still clinging grimly on as I walked away and absolutely refusing to let circumstances get the better of it…
Upon arriving home I opened the back door to check on my garden blackbird – and interrupted what appeared to be a smash and grab attempt. When it saw me the brazen thug ran quickly from the scene of its foiled bird’s nest heist and clambered over the fence, pausing briefly to be caught on camera…
Although I love all animals this particular one better stay away from the birds in my garden if it knows whats good for it’s backside.
Thankfully mommy blackbird stayed quiet and still throughout – and is still there doing her duty.
I also think she’s getting used to being photographed…
So that was my Sunday, and in the end it was a good one.
I’m glad I spent my time peering into a viewfinder.
In none of these images do I see the horrors that mankind can inflict upon eachother – and similarly I don’t see any of my own inconsequential worries.
All I see in these photos is beauty – from a day where I walked around seven miles (mostly) at a leisurely pace, stopping every so often to look closely at a bug or a petal and to sip my coffee whilst listening to the wind, the birds, and occasional rain as I sheltered under trees.
Are you feeling the same as I did on Saturday afternoon? Are you down in the dumps and wondering what the point is? If you are then maybe you need to zoom in on the little things as well. Take a picture of something – or if you can’t internet – just go outside, look at the world – and appreciate how wonderful it is.
Davey
Focusing on the little things When I wrote my downbeat and reflective post on Sunday I hadn't seen the news about Saturday's terrorist attack in London.
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