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harpagornis · 2 years

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Enantiornithean Earth

Yungavolucris and Halimornis by midiaou and xenopleurodon respectively. Both are real life Cretaceous taxa, showing that these birds were already diversifying into aquatic ecologies.

Enantiornithes are a group of extinct flying theropod dinosaurs that you could reasonably call birds, being the sister group of Euornithes (the group that includes modern birds). However, they differ from our birds in a variety of ways (their name literally means “opposite birds” for a reason):

Several skeletal details, including a tarsometatarsus that is either unfused or half-fused (beginning at the top rather than at the bottom, the opposite than in modern birds), an articulation of the scapula and coracoid that is oppositely shaped (hence the name; the coracoid joint is convex and the scapula joint is concave shaped in enantiornitheans, while the opposite happens in modern birds), a shallower sternum keel with bizarre antler-like projections (which, combined with large crests in their humerus, suggests the muscles lifting the wing were attached to the back as in bats and pterosaurs, rather than all flight muscles being attached to the keel as in modern birds), and a large, rod-shaped pygostyle (which will be relevant later).

Usually toothed jaws instead of beaks, though some taxa did become toothless. Even then, these weren’t capable of cranial kinesis like modern birds (i.e. watch a duck or your pet parrot yawn and you can see them moving their upper jaw; enantiornitheanss are many things but they’re not that abominatory).

All known taxa thus far seem to have been superprecocial: ample sites show buried eggs like those of megapodes, and the hatchlings were already fully flight capable soon after birth.

Unlike modern birds, enantiornitheans lacked a tail fan. They either had contour feathers on their butt like in the rest of the body or had long, streamer-like display feathers, also found in other Cretaceous bird groups but not in modern birds. Some species did have retrices, but they were arranged along the rod-like pygostyle and were not a movable fan, so essentially they were a variation of the tail fronds seen in Archaeopteryx and kin. Note that this did not make flight harder; even modern birds can fly reasonably well without a tail.

Why the opposite birds died out at the end of the Mesozoic while ours survived is unclear. Often, a bias towards arboreal niches is cited, as many enantiornitheans were in fact arboreal, but as the examples above show they also occured in marine and terrestrial niches alongside the ancestors of modern birds. Another possibility is their supreprecocial habits, meaning a more complex ecology as the birds matured since they were already functionally independent since birth, and this did hinder reptiles like lizards so the answer might lay there.

Or, most likely, it was just dumb luck.

Anyways:

Senmuruy hvare by Dave García. A four meter wingspan predator vaguely analogous to the golden eagle and cinnereous vulture, soaring across the northern hemisphere for corpses to dig its long snout into or live mammals and birds to sink its talons into.

Many Cretaceous enantiornitheans were already suspected of being raptorial, so it is only natural that, once pterosaurs were gone, they’d increase in size. Some reach wingspans of fiver meters, but most are more moderately sized at 1.5-3 meter adult wingspans. Smaller sizes are handled by the young, which like all enantiornithes can already fly since birth and occupy distinct ecological niches. Most species protect the nest and moderate its temperature like our megapodes, and a few even display mild parental care, allowing the young to remain in the vicinity until they’re large enough to be competition.

Euodontopteryx anatosuchus, a six-meter wingspan pelagic soarer that occurs in tropical and temperate waters, using its massive wings to ride on thermals like frigatebirds while landing to feed like albatrosses. Males sport streamer-like display feathers. By Dave García.

As noted above, some Cretaceous enantiornitheans were already aquatic, so this trend continued. Some species became divers, mostly wing propelled and some even flightless like our penguins, while others inversely invested in supreme gliding abilities, able to either ride thermals like frigatebirds or wave winds like albatrosses.

The most impressive species are reccord beaters. Divers can be as tall as a man when on land, while soarers can reach wingspans of over 7 meters, competing with flying multituberculates for largest living flying animals. Both groups tend to have long, toothy maws, the teeth alloted into a single row rather than individual sockets; this condition is known in both extinct sea birds and reptiles as well as some living cetaceans, and is known as aulacodonty.

Ghaltavis rex, a three meter tall predator that stalks African and Asian savannas. An apex predator of its own right, an echo of the distant unrelated tyrannosaurs in the form of a bird. By Dave García.

At least one real life enantiornithean, Elsornis, appears to have been flightless. It’s descendents were quick to occupy roles previously taken by non-avian theropods, from ratite-like herbivores to formidable predators that look like the fusion of a terror bird and a tyrannosaur, using their powerful jaws to crush bone.

The relatively long enantiornithean pygostyle allowed them to balance their pelvis/femur joints (a known size inhibittor in our birds) and grow to sizes larger than our timeline’s birds, though species above a ton are fairly rare seeing as mammals got their footing as well.

Bennu seti, a filter-feeding bird from Africa, Eurasia and Australia. Like flamingos it metabolizes carotenoids, giving it an orange colouration. By Dave García.

The Cretaceous Lectavis had long legs in some aspects convergent with those of flamingos. Thus, several enantiornitheans developed wading ecologies, ironically more associated with their euornithean competitors. Some became probers, dipping their maws (or toothless beaks) into the subtrate, while others became piscivores like herons or aquatic plant specialists like some cranes and magpie geese.

Most spectacular is a filter-feeding clade, Bennuidae. These birds modified their teeth into thin, delicate strands like some Cretaceous pterosaurs, and feed by swallowing water and expelling it, trapping prey in the teeth and keratinous spikes in the tongue. Having the nostrils still at the end of the snout, these birds usually feed in a different position from flamingos: rather than upside down, the lower jaw is submerged, in a manner similar to avocets.

Like most opposite birds the young are superprecocial, starting as plover-like birds before transitioning into a filter feeding lifestyle months later. Though some taxa form protective creches like flamingos, though unlike them they do not feed the young.

Like many of our shorebirds, these are continuous flappers, displaying remarkable endurance as they fly non-top for days in their migrations.

#enantiornithes #enantiornithean #enatiornithine #bird #birds #dinosaur #dinosaurs #paleoblr #palaeoblr #speculative zoology #speculative evolution #speculative biology #spec evo

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you-should-take-her-to-big-sur · 7 months

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Since Taylor's releasing a variant called "The Albatross"

"The Rime of the Ancient Mariner"

(text of 1834)

By Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Argument

How a Ship having passed the Line was driven by storms to the cold Country towards the South Pole; and how from thence she made her course to the tropical Latitude of the Great Pacific Ocean; and of the strange things that befell; and in what manner the Ancyent Marinere came back to his own Country.

PART I

It is an ancient Mariner,

And he stoppeth one of three.

'By thy long grey beard and glittering eye,

Now wherefore stopp'st thou me?

The Bridegroom's doors are opened wide,

And I am next of kin;

The guests are met, the feast is set:

May'st hear the merry din.'

He holds him with his skinny hand,

'There was a ship,' quoth he.

'Hold off! unhand me, grey-beard loon!'

Eftsoons his hand dropt he.

He holds him with his glittering eye—

The Wedding-Guest stood still,

And listens like a three years' child:

The Mariner hath his will.

The Wedding-Guest sat on a stone:

He cannot choose but hear;

And thus spake on that ancient man,

The bright-eyed Mariner.

'The ship was cheered, the harbour cleared,

Merrily did we drop

Below the kirk, below the hill,

Below the lighthouse top.

The Sun came up upon the left,

Out of the sea came he!

And he shone bright, and on the right

Went down into the sea.

Higher and higher every day,

Till over the mast at noon—'

The Wedding-Guest here beat his breast,

For he heard the loud bassoon.

The bride hath paced into the hall,

Red as a rose is she;

Nodding their heads before her goes

The merry minstrelsy.

The Wedding-Guest he beat his breast,

Yet he cannot choose but hear;

And thus spake on that ancient man,

The bright-eyed Mariner.

And now the STORM-BLAST came, and he

Was tyrannous and strong:

He struck with his o'ertaking wings,

And chased us south along.

With sloping masts and dipping prow,

As who pursued with yell and blow

Still treads the shadow of his foe,

And forward bends his head,

The ship drove fast, loud roared the blast,

And southward aye we fled.

And now there came both mist and snow,

And it grew wondrous cold:

And ice, mast-high, came floating by,

As green as emerald.

And through the drifts the snowy clifts

Did send a dismal sheen:

Nor shapes of men nor beasts we ken—

The ice was all between.

The ice was here, the ice was there,

The ice was all around:

It cracked and growled, and roared and howled,

Like noises in a swound!

At length did cross an Albatross,

Thorough the fog it came;

As if it had been a Christian soul,

We hailed it in God's name.

It ate the food it ne'er had eat,

And round and round it flew.

The ice did split with a thunder-fit;

The helmsman steered us through!

And a good south wind sprung up behind;

The Albatross did follow,

And every day, for food or play,

Came to the mariner's hollo!

In mist or cloud, on mast or shroud,

It perched for vespers nine;

Whiles all the night, through fog-smoke white,

Glimmered the white Moon-shine.'

'God save thee, ancient Mariner!

From the fiends, that plague thee thus!—

Why look'st thou so?'—With my cross-bow

I shot the ALBATROSS.

PART II

The Sun now rose upon the right:

Out of the sea came he,

Still hid in mist, and on the left

Went down into the sea.

And the good south wind still blew behind,

But no sweet bird did follow,

Nor any day for food or play

Came to the mariner's hollo!

And I had done a hellish thing,

And it would work 'em woe:

For all averred, I had killed the bird

That made the breeze to blow.

Ah wretch! said they, the bird to slay,

That made the breeze to blow!

Nor dim nor red, like God's own head,

The glorious Sun uprist:

Then all averred, I had killed the bird

That brought the fog and mist.

'Twas right, said they, such birds to slay,

That bring the fog and mist.

The fair breeze blew, the white foam flew,

The furrow followed free;

We were the first that ever burst

Into that silent sea.

Down dropt the breeze, the sails dropt down,

'Twas sad as sad could be;

And we did speak only to break

The silence of the sea!

All in a hot and copper sky,

The bloody Sun, at noon,

Right up above the mast did stand,

No bigger than the Moon.

Day after day, day after day,

We stuck, nor breath nor motion;

As idle as a painted ship

Upon a painted ocean.

Water, water, every where,

And all the boards did shrink;

Water, water, every where,

Nor any drop to drink.

The very deep did rot: O Christ!

That ever this should be!

Yea, slimy things did crawl with legs

Upon the slimy sea.

About, about, in reel and rout

The death-fires danced at night;

The water, like a witch's oils,

Burnt green, and blue and white.

And some in dreams assurèd were

Of the Spirit that plagued us so;

Nine fathom deep he had followed us

From the land of mist and snow.

And every tongue, through utter drought,

Was withered at the root;

We could not speak, no more than if

We had been choked with soot.

Ah! well a-day! what evil looks

Had I from old and young!

Instead of the cross, the Albatross

About my neck was hung.

PART III

There passed a weary time. Each throat

Was parched, and glazed each eye.

A weary time! a weary time!

How glazed each weary eye,

When looking westward, I beheld

A something in the sky.

At first it seemed a little speck,

And then it seemed a mist;

It moved and moved, and took at last

A certain shape, I wist.

A speck, a mist, a shape, I wist!

And still it neared and neared:

As if it dodged a water-sprite,

It plunged and tacked and veered.

With throats unslaked, with black lips baked,

We could nor laugh nor wail;

Through utter drought all dumb we stood!

I bit my arm, I sucked the blood,

And cried, A sail! a sail!

With throats unslaked, with black lips baked,

Agape they heard me call:

Gramercy! they for joy did grin,

And all at once their breath drew in.

As they were drinking all.

See! see! (I cried) she tacks no more!

Hither to work us weal;

Without a breeze, without a tide,

She steadies with upright keel!

The western wave was all a-flame.

The day was well nigh done!

Almost upon the western wave

Rested the broad bright Sun;

When that strange shape drove suddenly

Betwixt us and the Sun.

And straight the Sun was flecked with bars,

(Heaven's Mother send us grace!)

As if through a dungeon-grate he peered

With broad and burning face.

Alas! (thought I, and my heart beat loud)

How fast she nears and nears!

Are those her sails that glance in the Sun,

Like restless gossameres?

Are those her ribs through which the Sun

Did peer, as through a grate?

And is that Woman all her crew?

Is that a DEATH? and are there two?

Is DEATH that woman's mate?

Her lips were red, her looks were free,

Her locks were yellow as gold:

Her skin was as white as leprosy,

The Night-mare LIFE-IN-DEATH was she,

Who thicks man's blood with cold.

The naked hulk alongside came,

And the twain were casting dice;

'The game is done! I've won! I've won!'

Quoth she, and whistles thrice.

The Sun's rim dips; the stars rush out;

At one stride comes the dark;

With far-heard whisper, o'er the sea,

Off shot the spectre-bark.

We listened and looked sideways up!

Fear at my heart, as at a cup,

My life-blood seemed to sip!

The stars were dim, and thick the night,

The steersman's face by his lamp gleamed white;

From the sails the dew did drip—

Till clomb above the eastern bar

The hornèd Moon, with one bright star

Within the nether tip.

One after one, by the star-dogged Moon,

Too quick for groan or sigh,

Each turned his face with a ghastly pang,

And cursed me with his eye.

Four times fifty living men,

(And I heard nor sigh nor groan)

With heavy thump, a lifeless lump,

They dropped down one by one.

The souls did from their bodies fly,—

They fled to bliss or woe!

And every soul, it passed me by,

Like the whizz of my cross-bow!

PART IV

'I fear thee, ancient Mariner!

I fear thy skinny hand!

And thou art long, and lank, and brown,

As is the ribbed sea-sand.

I fear thee and thy glittering eye,

And thy skinny hand, so brown.'—

Fear not, fear not, thou Wedding-Guest!

This body dropt not down.

Alone, alone, all, all alone,

Alone on a wide wide sea!

And never a saint took pity on

My soul in agony.

The many men, so beautiful!

And they all dead did lie:

And a thousand thousand slimy things

Lived on; and so did I.

I looked upon the rotting sea,

And drew my eyes away;

I looked upon the rotting deck,

And there the dead men lay.

I looked to heaven, and tried to pray;

But or ever a prayer had gusht,

A wicked whisper came, and made

My heart as dry as dust.

I closed my lids, and kept them close,

And the balls like pulses beat;

For the sky and the sea, and the sea and the sky

Lay dead like a load on my weary eye,

And the dead were at my feet.

The cold sweat melted from their limbs,

Nor rot nor reek did they:

The look with which they looked on me

Had never passed away.

An orphan's curse would drag to hell

A spirit from on high;

But oh! more horrible than that

Is the curse in a dead man's eye!

Seven days, seven nights, I saw that curse,

And yet I could not die.

The moving Moon went up the sky,

And no where did abide:

Softly she was going up,

And a star or two beside—

Her beams bemocked the sultry main,

Like April hoar-frost spread;

But where the ship's huge shadow lay,

The charmèd water burnt alway

A still and awful red.

Beyond the shadow of the ship,

I watched the water-snakes:

They moved in tracks of shining white,

And when they reared, the elfish light

Fell off in hoary flakes.

Within the shadow of the ship

I watched their rich attire:

Blue, glossy green, and velvet black,

They coiled and swam; and every track

Was a flash of golden fire.

O happy living things! no tongue

Their beauty might declare:

A spring of love gushed from my heart,

And I blessed them unaware:

Sure my kind saint took pity on me,

And I blessed them unaware.

The self-same moment I could pray;

And from my neck so free

The Albatross fell off, and sank

Like lead into the sea.

PART V

Oh sleep! it is a gentle thing,

Beloved from pole to pole!

To Mary Queen the praise be given!

She sent the gentle sleep from Heaven,

That slid into my soul.

The silly buckets on the deck,

That had so long remained,

I dreamt that they were filled with dew;

And when I awoke, it rained.

My lips were wet, my throat was cold,

My garments all were dank;

Sure I had drunken in my dreams,

And still my body drank.

I moved, and could not feel my limbs:

I was so light—almost

I thought that I had died in sleep,

And was a blessed ghost.

And soon I heard a roaring wind:

It did not come anear;

But with its sound it shook the sails,

That were so thin and sere.

The upper air burst into life!

And a hundred fire-flags sheen,

To and fro they were hurried about!

And to and fro, and in and out,

The wan stars danced between.

And the coming wind did roar more loud,

And the sails did sigh like sedge,

And the rain poured down from one black cloud;

The Moon was at its edge.

The thick black cloud was cleft, and still

The Moon was at its side:

Like waters shot from some high crag,

The lightning fell with never a jag,

A river steep and wide.

The loud wind never reached the ship,

Yet now the ship moved on!

Beneath the lightning and the Moon

The dead men gave a groan.

They groaned, they stirred, they all uprose,

Nor spake, nor moved their eyes;

It had been strange, even in a dream,

To have seen those dead men rise.

The helmsman steered, the ship moved on;

Yet never a breeze up-blew;

The mariners all 'gan work the ropes,

Where they were wont to do;

They raised their limbs like lifeless tools—

We were a ghastly crew.

The body of my brother's son

Stood by me, knee to knee:

The body and I pulled at one rope,

But he said nought to me.

'I fear thee, ancient Mariner!'

Be calm, thou Wedding-Guest!

'Twas not those souls that fled in pain,

Which to their corses came again,

But a troop of spirits blest:

For when it dawned—they dropped their arms,

And clustered round the mast;

Sweet sounds rose slowly through their mouths,

And from their bodies passed.

Around, around, flew each sweet sound,

Then darted to the Sun;

Slowly the sounds came back again,

Now mixed, now one by one.

Sometimes a-dropping from the sky

I heard the sky-lark sing;

Sometimes all little birds that are,

How they seemed to fill the sea and air

With their sweet jargoning!

And now 'twas like all instruments,

Now like a lonely flute;

And now it is an angel's song,

That makes the heavens be mute.

It ceased; yet still the sails made on

A pleasant noise till noon,

A noise like of a hidden brook

In the leafy month of June,

That to the sleeping woods all night

Singeth a quiet tune.

Till noon we quietly sailed on,

Yet never a breeze did breathe:

Slowly and smoothly went the ship,

Moved onward from beneath.

Under the keel nine fathom deep,

From the land of mist and snow,

The spirit slid: and it was he

That made the ship to go.

The sails at noon left off their tune,

And the ship stood still also.

The Sun, right up above the mast,

Had fixed her to the ocean:

But in a minute she 'gan stir,

With a short uneasy motion—

Backwards and forwards half her length

With a short uneasy motion.

Then like a pawing horse let go,

She made a sudden bound:

It flung the blood into my head,

And I fell down in a swound.

How long in that same fit I lay,

I have not to declare;

But ere my living life returned,

I heard and in my soul discerned

Two voices in the air.

'Is it he?' quoth one, 'Is this the man?

By him who died on cross,

With his cruel bow he laid full low

The harmless Albatross.

The spirit who bideth by himself

In the land of mist and snow,

He loved the bird that loved the man

Who shot him with his bow.'

The other was a softer voice,

As soft as honey-dew:

Quoth he, 'The man hath penance done,

And penance more will do.'

PART VI

First Voice

'But tell me, tell me! speak again,

Thy soft response renewing—

What makes that ship drive on so fast?

What is the ocean doing?'

Second Voice

Still as a slave before his lord,

The ocean hath no blast;

His great bright eye most silently

Up to the Moon is cast—

If he may know which way to go;

For she guides him smooth or grim.

See, brother, see! how graciously

She looketh down on him.'

First Voice

'But why drives on that ship so fast,

Without wave or wind?'

Second Voice

'The air is cut away before,

And closes from behind.

Fly, brother, fly! more high, more high!

Or we shall be belated:

For slow and slow that ship will go,

When the Mariner's trance is abated.'

I woke, and we were sailing on

As in a gentle weather:

'Twas night, calm night, the moon was high;

The dead men stood together.

All stood together on the deck,

For a charnel-dungeon fitter:

All fixed on me their stony eyes,

That in the Moon did glitter.

The pang, the curse, with which they died,

Had never passed away:

I could not draw my eyes from theirs,

Nor turn them up to pray.

And now this spell was snapt: once more

I viewed the ocean green,

And looked far forth, yet little saw

Of what had else been seen—

Like one, that on a lonesome road

Doth walk in fear and dread,

And having once turned round walks on,

And turns no more his head;

Because he knows, a frightful fiend

Doth close behind him tread.

But soon there breathed a wind on me,

Nor sound nor motion made:

Its path was not upon the sea,

In ripple or in shade.

It raised my hair, it fanned my cheek

Like a meadow-gale of spring—

It mingled strangely with my fears,

Yet it felt like a welcoming.

Swiftly, swiftly flew the ship,

Yet she sailed softly too:

Sweetly, sweetly blew the breeze—

On me alone it blew.

Oh! dream of joy! is this indeed

The light-house top I see?

Is this the hill? is this the kirk?

Is this mine own countree?

We drifted o'er the harbour-bar,

And I with sobs did pray—

O let me be awake, my God!

Or let me sleep alway.

The harbour-bay was clear as glass,

So smoothly it was strewn!

And on the bay the moonlight lay,

And the shadow of the Moon.

The rock shone bright, the kirk no less,

That stands above the rock:

The moonlight steeped in silentness

The steady weathercock.

And the bay was white with silent light,

Till rising from the same,

Full many shapes, that shadows were,

In crimson colours came.

A little distance from the prow

Those crimson shadows were:

I turned my eyes upon the deck—

Oh, Christ! what saw I there!

Each corse lay flat, lifeless and flat,

And, by the holy rood!

A man all light, a seraph-man,

On every corse there stood.

This seraph-band, each waved his hand:

It was a heavenly sight!

They stood as signals to the land,

Each one a lovely light;

This seraph-band, each waved his hand,

No voice did they impart—

No voice; but oh! the silence sank

Like music on my heart.

But soon I heard the dash of oars,

I heard the Pilot's cheer;

My head was turned perforce away

And I saw a boat appear.

The Pilot and the Pilot's boy,

I heard them coming fast:

Dear Lord in Heaven! it was a joy

The dead men could not blast.

I saw a third—I heard his voice:

It is the Hermit good!

He singeth loud his godly hymns

That he makes in the wood.

He'll shrieve my soul, he'll wash away

The Albatross's blood.

PART VII

This Hermit good lives in that wood

Which slopes down to the sea.

How loudly his sweet voice he rears!

He loves to talk with marineres

That come from a far countree.

He kneels at morn, and noon, and eve—

He hath a cushion plump:

It is the moss that wholly hides

The rotted old oak-stump.

The skiff-boat neared: I heard them talk,

'Why, this is strange, I trow!

Where are those lights so many and fair,

That signal made but now?'

'Strange, by my faith!' the Hermit said—

'And they answered not our cheer!

The planks looked warped! and see those sails,

How thin they are and sere!

I never saw aught like to them,

Unless perchance it were

Brown skeletons of leaves that lag

My forest-brook along;

When the ivy-tod is heavy with snow,

And the owlet whoops to the wolf below,

That eats the she-wolf's young.'

'Dear Lord! it hath a fiendish look—

(The Pilot made reply)

I am a-feared'—'Push on, push on!'

Said the Hermit cheerily.

The boat came closer to the ship,

But I nor spake nor stirred;

The boat came close beneath the ship,

And straight a sound was heard.

Under the water it rumbled on,

Still louder and more dread:

It reached the ship, it split the bay;

The ship went down like lead.

Stunned by that loud and dreadful sound,

Which sky and ocean smote,

Like one that hath been seven days drowned

My body lay afloat;

But swift as dreams, myself I found

Within the Pilot's boat.

Upon the whirl, where sank the ship,

The boat spun round and round;

And all was still, save that the hill

Was telling of the sound.

I moved my lips—the Pilot shrieked

And fell down in a fit;

The holy Hermit raised his eyes,

And prayed where he did sit.

I took the oars: the Pilot's boy,

Who now doth crazy go,

Laughed loud and long, and all the while

His eyes went to and fro.

'Ha! ha!' quoth he, 'full plain I see,

The Devil knows how to row.'

And now, all in my own countree,

I stood on the firm land!

The Hermit stepped forth from the boat,

And scarcely he could stand.

'O shrieve me, shrieve me, holy man!'

The Hermit crossed his brow.

'Say quick,' quoth he, 'I bid thee say—

What manner of man art thou?'

Forthwith this frame of mine was wrenched

With a woful agony,

Which forced me to begin my tale;

And then it left me free.

Since then, at an uncertain hour,

That agony returns:

And till my ghastly tale is told,

This heart within me burns.

I pass, like night, from land to land;

I have strange power of speech;

That moment that his face I see,

I know the man that must hear me:

To him my tale I teach.

What loud uproar bursts from that door!

The wedding-guests are there:

But in the garden-bower the bride

And bride-maids singing are:

And hark the little vesper bell,

Which biddeth me to prayer!

O Wedding-Guest! this soul hath been

Alone on a wide wide sea:

So lonely 'twas, that God himself

Scarce seemèd there to be.

O sweeter than the marriage-feast,

'Tis sweeter far to me,

To walk together to the kirk

With a goodly company!—

To walk together to the kirk,

And all together pray,

While each to his great Father bends,

Old men, and babes, and loving friends

And youths and maidens gay!

Farewell, farewell! but this I tell

To thee, thou Wedding-Guest!

He prayeth well, who loveth well

Both man and bird and beast.

He prayeth best, who loveth best

All things both great and small;

For the dear God who loveth us,

He made and loveth all.

The Mariner, whose eye is bright,

Whose beard with age is hoar,

Is gone: and now the Wedding-Guest

Turned from the bridegroom's door.

He went like one that hath been stunned,

And is of sense forlorn:

A sadder and a wiser man,

He rose the morrow morn.

#taylor swift #gaylor #taylor swift queer #taylor stans #taylor swift gay #the tortured poets department #the albatross #gaylor tumblr #gaylor swift #the rime of the ancient mariner #romanticism #romantic literature #romantic poetry #poetry #literature

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sinnerclair · 1 year

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hi!!!!!!!!!!!! here's the rest of the kin that i have developed!!!!!!!!!!!!

keep in mind that yes i will be talking a lot about these guys!!!!!!!

Psittiakin

Parrot-like bird folk which live in the tropical archipelagio of San Bayoma. This race is distinguishable by their usual colorful wings and facial markings. Their wingspan is approximately around 3 feet. Appearance vary on type of parrot.

Accipitrikin

Bird folk which live in the mountainous nation of Gria Grea. This race is distinguishable by their sharp talons and keen eyesight. Their wingspan varies depending on species. Appearance vary on type of bird of prey.

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bruiisedpetals-a · 1 year

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he’d covertly landed in the night & many miles away from the city , the walk had been long and strange — westeros was so odd to him ; their sand was pale and their birds were shrill , the air was cool and the earth smelled ... strange. far above , with her mind mingling inside his own , circled 𝐞𝐥𝐛𝐚𝐥𝐚 ... 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧 — ever present as she watched over him and simultaneously turned her serpentine eyes about the clouds for others of her kin ; the valyrian dragons. though she was the last known dragon of the tropical south , yet she had taught him all dragons shared the similarities as humans did , regardless of appearance. elbala , now grown & strong , had beseeched däthedr to travel from his princedom in sweet lotus vale on jhala to come here. she no longer wanted to be alone.

as he walked the streets of the city called 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 , many seemed to stare at him ; whispering in the common tongue behind their fair hands , gesturing to his pointed ears , his imperceptibly dark skin and pale grey eyes — inspecting the strange armour he wore and the long bow upon his back. was he the first of the summer isles to step onto these lands?

däthedr truthfully found it somewhat comforting to find another with skin so similar to his own people ... he approached the woman with the rich curls and delicate hands (unaware of who she was) as he politely spoke ; ❝ excuse me — can you direct me to the main port? i am to meet my ship but i do not know the way. ❞ it would have likely been obvious in the 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭 ; clearly däthedr was not a local of kings landing — or even westeros if one particularly adept at discerning the foreign tongues beyond this continent.

— däthedr xo joraq & baela targaryen ( @mccndancer ) + däthedr’s asoiaf info

#v. summer isles prince ⋯ int. baela targaryen #mccndancer #( his first post!!!!! i need to transfer his info over from the sideblog but i linked some things for reference if that helps!!!#-- i love him sfm 🥺🙏🏾 )

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barry-kent-mackay · 2 years

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Sunda Wrinkled Hornbill (Rhabdotorrhinus corrugatus)

This small oil painting shows a pair of Sunda Wrinkled Horbills, native to the Malay Peninsula, Sumatra and Borneo. I have put the female in front of the male, easily distinguished by his garish colouring. The “wrinkled” in the name refers to a variable degree of corrugation (as reflected in the scientific name) in the beak and the “casque”, a variably shaped segment on top of, and part of, the large beak.

I used to know a museum ornithologist who became somewhat obsessed with the fact that the colouring in birds could not be objectively determined, thus measured, since it was significantly influenced by external factors, such as the dirt, pollen, dust and other impurities live birds experienced. Thus he ordered museum preparators to rigorously wash the plumage of the specimens they prepared with the results that they became more brightly coloured than their wild kin, but quite unnatural looking. I mention this because I wonder what he’d make of the “white” tips of the tail feathers of the Sunda Wrinkled Hornbill which become stained, through preening, with natural body oils, this often a lovely golden-buff colour, as I showed in my painting. The oil-producing uropygial gland is at the base of the tail and I once painted an African species of hornbill, the Silver-cheeked, preening that gland, very prominent in hornbills:

The Sunda Wrinkled Hornbill is monogamous, mates for life and in classic hornbill fashion the female seals herself into a cavity in a tree with mud and excreta, leaving a slit through which the male can feed her and her chicks until they are old enough to break out and enter the tropical forests which provides the fruit and small animals that constitute their diet. Those forests are sadly being cut away for timber profits or to make room for palm oil and other crops, with the result that this beautiful, fascinating bird is now an endangered species. The painting is 12 X 16 inches in oils on compressed hardboard.

art may be used for non-commercial purposes with attribution

prints and original art for sale on Fine Art America

support barry kent mackay on ko-fi

#birds #birblr #birdlr #bird art #artist #barry kent mackay

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delightfuldevin · 1 year

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Taglist!! (More tags to be added as needed)

Basics:

#devin speaks - talk tag

#king sad sack - vent tag (I’ll try not to vent here too often; I don’t consider this the place for that)

#devin’s gaming logs - talking about games I’m playing (will be warned for spoilers)

#answered the thing - ask tag

#here and queer - LGBTQ+ tag (positivity; I don’t do discourse)

#happy tag - things that make me happy/feel good/cheer me up

#funney tag - things that make me laugh

#important tag - things that I think are important/want to remember

#wishlist - things I want to buy

#hornytimes - nsfw tag (minors/ageless blogs better not interact with those posts or you WILL be blocked)

Creative:

#art tag - my art

#anitag - my animations (this tag might be empty for a while cause motivation is a bitch ;-;)

#fic tag - my writing (again, might be empty for a while lol)

#prompts - writing/drawing prompts I’d like to do (may include ask games, if ever I do those?)

#random art - art by other people that doesn’t include my kins, synpaths, or F/Os

Interests:

Note: non-self ship fandom related interests are on my multifandom blog @theamazingworldoffandoms (just reblogs over there; my creative stuff stays here)

#aes - aesthetic tag **

#cool beans - science stuff

#animalia - animals **

#mushies - mushrooms

#super mario headcanons

#cookie run headcanons

#animalia and #mushies are only for real images; drawn images go in #random art

Self Ship/Kin Stuff:

#from the white void <3 - gush tag

#kin tag - me (my kins) **

#syntag - me (my synpaths) **

#sonas tag - me (my self inserts) **

#hearttag - my otherhearts **

#faves tag - my F/Os **

#kiddos tag - my kid F/Os (they’re still tagged under #faves tag, they just get a tag all to themselves as well cause there’s so many of them lol)

#self ship tag - me (my kins, synpaths, or sonas) and my F/Os interacting with each other, as well as anything related to self shipping in general

#other’s self ship - other people’s self ship content

#other - posts that aren’t categorized in any of the other tags (posts in this tag may be given a new tag in the future if enough of the same type of post shows up)

Tags marked with ** are general tags that are further categorized. I added the specific tags under the cut if you’re interested, just cause I love showing off my tags haha (Tag organization is genuinely very fun to me which is why I have all of them listed. The most important ones are all above, so don’t worry about reading these specific ones if you don’t care lol)

#aes

#beside the seaside - beach/ocean/tropical

#forest fairy melody - forests

#waterfall - rainy

#falling for fall - autumn

(More to be added)

#animalia

#reptilia - reptiles (includes snakes so be warned of that, actually it’s probably mainly snakes)

#aves - birds

#mammalia - mammals

#aquatica - any water dwelling creature (mainly cause I didn’t want to accidentally tag a freshwater animal as “sea dwellers” haha; accuracy is important in organization :3)

#phibs - amphibious fellows

#kin tag

#big red - Mario

#bonedaddy - Jack

#vibrant summer - Mango

#the eel deal - Frye

#syntag

#comic - Sans

#first class fire demon - Calcifer

#sunnydrop - Sun

#sonas tag

#eggs and rice - main sona

#chocolate eclair - Super Mario

#trail mix - Pokemon

#poprocks - Sonic

#apple cider - Kirby

#fruit salad - MLP

#saltwater taffy - Splatoon

#candy corn - Deltarune

#pumpkin puree - Cookie Run

#black licorice - Hollow Knight

#hearttag

#spooky scary skeletons - skeletons

#made of stardust - stars

#faves tag

#cuddle monster - Bowser

#wingman ghost - King Boo

#peachy - Peach

#flower power - Daisy

#my rose - Rosalina

#baby boy - Bowser Jr

#sporty boi son - Larry

#star child - Morton

#venny’s little princess - Wendy

#tol insane son - Iggy

#bad boy son - Roy

#smol clown son - Lemmy

#classy and sassy son - Ludwig

#lil rabbid son - Spawny

#starry rabbid daughter - Rosebud

#heroes of hope - Maurice, Louis, and Cherry (Rabbid Peach)

#blade master - Edge

#right hand bro - Luigi

#my lovely minions - Bowser’s minions

#fruity pie - Pitaya

#phantom bleu - Roguefort

#pretty petal - Cherry Blossom

#little red - Cherry (Cookie Run)

#sourpuss - Lemon

#poppy - Popcorn

#little miss rebel - Currant Cream

#party pal - Birthday Cake

#voila! - Cinnamon

#cookie of class - Eclair

#miss moonlight - Moonlight

#brightest star in the sky - Shining Glitter

#razzle dazzle - Raspberry Mousse

#my sweet archer - Wind Archer

#lil sailor child - Peppermint

#smol ink child - Squid Ink

#lil magician daughter - Cream Puff

#chess twins - Chess Choco

#rice cake daughter - Moon Rabbit

#spooky and sparkly daughter - Pumpkin Pie

#robotics child - Strawberry Crepe

#toy time daughter - Lollipop

#dreamy conductor daughter - Milky Way

#pasta daughter - Fettuccine

#uncle caviar - Captain Caviar

#scholar sis - Blueberry Pie

#lizard bro - Dinosour

#fashion sis - Sour Belt

#surfer bro - Soda

#peppy sis - Cheerleader

#spicy bro - Peperoncino

#spicy nephew - Habanero

#goldie - Ananas

#water type - Lotus

#tanny - Rambutan

#vel - Red Velvet

#The One - Churro

#freezing hot princess - Blaze

#chaos control - Shadow

#shiny sis - Rouge

#mc princess - Pearl

#dj hyperfresh - Marina

#cold blooded bandit - Shiver

#hype manta storm - Big Man

#sea star - Callie

#boss lady - Marie

#nenie - Annie

#best clown buddy - Marx

#uncle meta - Meta Knight

#poyo - Kirby

#princess of the night - Luna

#dragon child - Smolder

#griffin son - Gallus

#sunsis - Sunset Shimmer

#honey - Red

#chalk daughter - Susie

#spade nephew - Lancer

#grillbae - Grillby

#showtime - Rory

#stardust - Whitney

#moonflower - Ione

#blush - Pinky

#uncle apollo - Apollo

#hoppity - Sasha

#rrr-owch - Lucky

#ragdoll queen - Sally

#finest trick or treaters - Lock, Shock, and Barrel

#voidheart - the Hollow Knight

#blessed daughter - Joni

#uncle six eyes - the Hunter

#pk bat son - Ness

#pk snake son - Lucas

#flower crown child - Crona

#plasma twins - Pot of Fire and Pot of Thunder

#auntie bayo - Bayonetta

#four elements disaster - Rubilax

#auntie eclipsa - Eclipsa Butterfly

#uncle glob - Globgor

#uncle clay - Clay

#vegetable fam - Goku, Vegeta, Cabba, Caulifla, Kale, and Broly

#misc cc - anyone without a tag

It’s very obvious which one of these tag groups made me have to put it under a cut fbchcfghcghvjvhnv

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facetsofthecloset · 3 months

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i think one of my biggest hurdles as a writer (especially original fiction, but it also affects my fanfiction) is that i have an incredibly American/British-centric idea of what Fiction Books are supposed to be like, even though my personal lived experience is tangential to those things at best.

(rambly weird personal essay under the cut lol)

when i was a kid, i mostly read Doctor Dolittle and Narnia books, and when i got older i read HP, Septimus Heap, Artemis Fowl, Fablehaven, Sherlock Holmes, etc.

pretty standard kid's fantasy/fiction (i mean not Holmes but y'know). it definitely informed what i thought Fiction was supposed to be, and all of it is incredibly Western.

i've wanted to be a fantasy author since i was really young, but i could never really get anywhere because i was trying to copy what i read. and the problem with that is...well, i'm Japanese American, but i grew up going back and forth between Hawaii and Japan.

i have no personal connection to the environments the books i loved grew out of, so copying it was impossible to do organically. i didn't have the background lived experience to seep naturally into my writing in order to recreate these atmospheres and cultures.

from the language, to the culture, to the ecosystems and climate, none of it was what i knew was right outside my window. i couldn't write what i knew, because as far as i knew, you just...weren't supposed to.

you weren't supposed to write about the tropics except as some distant hypothetical. you weren't supposed to mention jungles outside of metaphors. winter and snow was a given. you're not writing a fantasy book without winter, you fool. no one knows what a japan is. no one knows what a hawaii is either. no one knows you, you're not supposed to exist in these books.

i think part of that is what appealed to me, actually, in wanting escapism, but when it comes to writing, it's a big hurdle. i'm a lot more comfortable writing from my own experiences now, but i still find myself wanting to ape the style and aesthetics of what i loved growing up.

it really doesn't help that i hesitate to claim any singular cultural identity for myself because i don't feel like an authority on either. if you pressed me, i'd say i'm American, but i'm still so far removed from what 99% of America (as in, the mainland) is.

i don't think of deer or squirrels or redwoods or prairie dogs or blue jays when i think about the "America" i'm from. i think of centipedes and green sea turtles and peacocks and jackson chameleons and myna birds (most of those are nonnative to hawaii but they were what i saw commonly growing up)

so there's just a huge disconnect between What I Know and the stories i want to write. which is annoying, why don't i want to write more stories about the beautiful world i knew and grew up in? there's magic there. there's potential for fantasy and adventure there. of course there is.

but no. i keep trying to recreate Narnia, or draw on European folk and fae, because i feel like i have none of my own. nothing that's allowed to appear in print.

i once read half of Julie Kagawa's The Iron King. i only read half because i hated it, part of which is probably because i was just too old for it.

but the other part, when i think about it is...i picked that book initially because i read that the author grew up in Hawaii, and she's Japanese. not first gen like me, but i thought, hey, maybe she'll get it.

but The Iron King is like a weird Midsummer Night's Dream thing, it's very old-Europe-filtered-and-strained-through-centuries-of-American. it's very temperate zone. i saw no trace of home or kin in those words and i think that disappointment is what turned me off it so virulently.

i wonder if my writing is as empty when i use fairies and satyrs and other mainstays of Western fantasy. if it comes across as a string of hollow tropes; words and ideas copied without heart or belief or connection into a story simply because that's what you're supposed to use.

i wonder why i use those things.

(part of it is because i'm definitely not native hawaiian and would feel weird about just lifting stuff bc i don't know if it'd be disrespectful or not and would have to do research on it. at this point, fairies are public domain, but menehune...ehhh, i don't think so.)

i think it's because i have so many examples and blueprints to work off of if i take ideas from the mainstream. whatever i try to do using me and what i know, and what is real and home to me...i don't know how to do that. i've never been shown a way.

(part of that is definitely that i just need to read more but i have a hard time starting new media of any kind, especially books. and i'm super picky with books especially so it makes it worse, but urgh i'm trying)

anyway i'm only thinking about this because i realized that trying to design a character that is the embodiment of Deer in Summer Forest is really hard when i've only seen a deer irl a handful of times and all the colors and leaf shapes are wrong for deer when i think of a Summer Forest. i'm designing a god by peering through a cloudy stained glass window into a room that only exists through stories and words. i can make a heart but there's no blood in it.

#the halfling's dilemma #the other dimension of this is that i DO have experience with temperate broadleaf forests in summer BUT in japan #which is weird bc i'm writing for an american/western audience #so when i say 'deer in the forest' and think of the woods i walked through near mt fuji with my grandma #i KNOW that most readers are picturing something similar but two inches to the left #and that disconnect is going to cause misunderstandings #i know that bc it's happened to me a lot in other contexts irl #and writing is about communication so i have to communicate the gap #but it's so hard it's the same word but we may as well be speaking different languages #it's so annoying when you're both speaking english but neither of your dictionaries match up #it's worse than when you're both speaking different languages sometimes because at least that way you're giving each other grace #'ah they don't speak my language it's ok that they made a little mistake i'll put in a bit of extra effort to understand' on both sides #but if you're both speaking the same language it's 'why the fuck didn't they get what i mean? i spoke in plain english! they must be stupid #urgh anyway #ramblings #writing woes #i just have a lot to unlearn generally but also as a writer #and that also means forming my own identity and that's always been hard for me

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blossomingbabe · 1 year

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Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Anthropologie Akemi & Kin Bon Voyage Flutter Tank top size Xs.

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xtruss · 1 year

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Beautiful Moments Between Animal Mothers and Their Babies!

A Polar Bear Mom rests after nursing in Wapusk National Park in Manitoba, Canada. Polar bears mate in the spring but don't become pregnant until the fall. Then, only those females who've successfully fattened up over a summer of hunting will begin to bear young. During those months of plenty, a bear may gain more than 220 pounds, and mothers need every bit of those reserves when it's time to den. Depending on where in the Arctic they call home, polar bear moms may remain in their snowy dens for up to eight months without eating or drinking. Cubs, often twins, spend their several months in their den, enjoying their mom's high-fat milk. Moms dote on their cubs for two to three years, protecting them from threats including male polar bears. They also teach them the skills needed for life on the ice, including how to swim, hunt, and prepare dens for their own future families. Photograph By Norbert Rosing, National Geographic Image Collection

A Saker Falcon and her Chicks, known as Eyases, take in the panoramic view across the vast expanse of the Mongolian plain. Mothers raise their young in existing nests f built by storks, eagles, or other birds, says Per Smiseth, a University of Edinburgh behavioral ecologist. This particular falcon mother sat on her eggs for over a month, never leaving the nest, while her mate brought her food. Both parents care for their noisy young, which fledge after about 50 days. Smiseth notes that this kind of family-focused lifestyle is far more common among birds than among most other animals. "Birds are typically very good parents," he says. Photograph By Brent Stirton, National Geographic Image Collection

Humpback whales have a calf only every two to three years and lavish it with attention. Young whales nurse for an entire year and keep growing for 10. During this time, mother and offspring travel thousands of miles from their calving grounds in tropical waters to rich summer feeding grounds in the temperate and polar seas. The whales, pictured above frolicking near Vava'u, Tonga, spend winters in Antarctica, while some North American whales journey from Alaska to Hawaii. A main threat to the calves during such journeys are orcas, also known as killer whales. That's why the pair sometimes communicate by whispering, which allows the mom to keep tabs on her calf while staying under the radar. Photograph By Greg Lecoeur, National Geographic Image Collection

Unlike most of their famously aloof kin, African lions are social cats. They live in prides dominated by related females, like this cub-wrangling mom in Serengeti National Park, Tanzania. "Females are the core. The heart and soul of the pride. The males come and go," Craig Packer, director of the Lion Research Center at the University of Minnesota, told National Geographic in 2019. Female lions hang together to protect themselves from dangers, including male lions, which will kill cubs of competing males. They form a communal nursery called a crèche, and even groom and nurse each other's cubs (though they always prioritize their own). Young lions are playful, but they don't begin hunting until they are about a year old. This means they generally eat last, and competition over food, as well as infanticide, mean that many cubs are unlikely to make it to adulthood. Some scientists estimate that only half of all cubs make it to age two. Photograph By Michael Nicolas, National Geographic Image Collection

An Emperor Scorpion, one of the World's Largest Scorpions, carries her immature offspring on her back. "Scorpions may get some bad press, but female Scorpions are very attentive parents," Smiseth says. Emperor scorpion mothers give birth to an average of nine to 32 fully formed young. These ghostly white newborns are completely dependent on their mother for the first few weeks after birth. The young don't need food, as they subsist on nutrients left over from the embryo stage until they can hunt for themselves. All scorpions practice parental care, which is perhaps why they've been around for hundreds of millions of years and live on every continent except Antarctica. "Scorpions were among the first animals to colonize dry land, and female care might be part of the key to why they were able to do that successfully," Smiseth says. Photograph By Zssd, Minden Pictures

A cheetah family slows down for a bit of play in Serengeti National Park, Tanzania. Being a cheetah mom is very hard work: During the early weeks of her cubs' lives, the mother must move them every few days to avoid predators. If all goes well, cheetah siblings stay with their mom for about a year and a half, learning to hunt. The young cats then try out their independence by hanging together as a group for another six months or so. Some cheetahs are supermoms, not only raising their own young but fostering the cubs of others. "I'm not aware of any other carnivore whose survival relies so heavily on the success of so few females," Sarah Durant, director of the Serengeti Cheetah Project, told National Geographic in 2012. Durant adds one notable female, named Eleanor, had mothered 10 percent of the southern Serengeti's adult cheetahs. Photograph By FransLanting, National Geographic Image Collection

An Angolan Giraffe Mother and Calf greet the dawn on the plains of Namibia. Giraffe calves are born famously well suited for life on the run, standing within 30 minutes of birth. It’s critical that they do so, as newborn calves are a favorite meal of many African predators. But before these “mini-adults” are born, mom has to endure a 15-month pregnancy, which allows for the development of a six-foot-tall baby with strong muscles and nervous system. When their calves get a bit older, female giraffes will sometimes call on “babysitters,” Verdolin says. “The mothers hang out together….The females leave their calf with another mom, and it’s sort of like a giraffe calf playgroup. It’s also community support for the mothers.” Photograph By Madelaine Castles, National Geographic Image Collection

A Female Gray-headed Flying Fox hangs with her young in a riverside colony in Yarra Bend Park, Victoria, Australia. Mothers typically a single pup at a time, which initially can’t regulate its own body temperature. During this time the mother wraps her young in her wings. When she ventures out at night to feed on fruits, pollen, and nectar, the pup clings to her, clawing her fur and clamping its mouth around her nipple. When pups are older, yet still too young to fly, they’re left behind in the colony’s trees. When Mom returns with nourishment, she and her pup recognize one another among the group by scent and the sound of each other’s calls. Photograph By Doug Gimesy, Minden Pictures

A Giant Panda Mom cradles her Cub at the Wolong Conservation and Research Center in China. The cubs are born famously tiny—just 1/900th the size of their mothers—and are blind, hairless, and totally dependent on Mama. Pandas often have twins, which means panda mothers must choose which of the pair is most likely to survive—and devote all her efforts to that cub at the expense of the other. So while practice of abandoning a less fit twin might land pandas on some lists of the animal kingdom's "bad moms," they are actually trying to be the best mothers they can. It's not that panda moms aren't devoted. For months after birth, she holds her cub almost nonstop to share body warmth and nurse. She rarely leaves the den, even to eat and drink. Photograph By Ami Vitale National Geographic Image Collection

Mamas and Babies: Like super human moms, great animal moms show grace to their young, feed them when they’re hungry, teach them the ropes... and some even sacrifice themselves so their offspring may live. (Pictured above, a Gorilla carries her Newborn.)

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riveraffinity · 2 years

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The Rime of the Ancient Mariner

Samuel Taylor Coleridge

ARGUMENT

PART THE FIRST

It is an ancient Mariner, And he stoppeth one of three. "By thy long grey beard and glittering eye, Now wherefore stopp'st thou me?

"The Bridegroom's doors are opened wide, And I am next of kin; The guests are met, the feast is set: May'st hear the merry din."

He holds him with his skinny hand, "There was a ship," quoth he. "Hold off! unhand me, grey-beard loon!" Eftsoons his hand dropt he.

He holds him with his glittering eye-- The Wedding-Guest stood still, And listens like a three years child: The Mariner hath his will.

The Wedding-Guest sat on a stone: He cannot chuse but hear; And thus spake on that ancient man, The bright-eyed Mariner.

The ship was cheered, the harbour cleared, Merrily did we drop Below the kirk, below the hill, Below the light-house top.

The Sun came up upon the left, Out of the sea came he! And he shone bright, and on the right Went down into the sea.

Higher and higher every day, Till over the mast at noon-- The Wedding-Guest here beat his breast, For he heard the loud bassoon.

The bride hath paced into the hall, Red as a rose is she; Nodding their heads before her goes The merry minstrelsy.

The Wedding-Guest he beat his breast, Yet he cannot chuse but hear; And thus spake on that ancient man, The bright-eyed Mariner.

And now the STORM-BLAST came, and he Was tyrannous and strong: He struck with his o'ertaking wings, And chased south along.

With sloping masts and dipping prow, As who pursued with yell and blow Still treads the shadow of his foe And forward bends his head, The ship drove fast, loud roared the blast, And southward aye we fled.

And now there came both mist and snow, And it grew wondrous cold: And ice, mast-high, came floating by, As green as emerald.

And through the drifts the snowy clifts Did send a dismal sheen: Nor shapes of men nor beasts we ken-- The ice was all between.

The ice was here, the ice was there, The ice was all around: It cracked and growled, and roared and howled, Like noises in a swound!

At length did cross an Albatross: Thorough the fog it came; As if it had been a Christian soul, We hailed it in God's name.

It ate the food it ne'er had eat, And round and round it flew. The ice did split with a thunder-fit; The helmsman steered us through!

And a good south wind sprung up behind; The Albatross did follow, And every day, for food or play, Came to the mariners' hollo!

In mist or cloud, on mast or shroud, It perched for vespers nine; Whiles all the night, through fog-smoke white, Glimmered the white Moon-shine.

"God save thee, ancient Mariner! From the fiends, that plague thee thus!-- Why look'st thou so?"--With my cross-bow I shot the ALBATROSS.

PART THE SECOND

The Sun now rose upon the right: Out of the sea came he, Still hid in mist, and on the left Went down into the sea.

And the good south wind still blew behind But no sweet bird did follow, Nor any day for food or play Came to the mariners' hollo!

And I had done an hellish thing, And it would work 'em woe: For all averred, I had killed the bird That made the breeze to blow. Ah wretch! said they, the bird to slay That made the breeze to blow!

Nor dim nor red, like God's own head, The glorious Sun uprist: Then all averred, I had killed the bird That brought the fog and mist. 'Twas right, said they, such birds to slay, That bring the fog and mist.

The fair breeze blew, the white foam flew, The furrow followed free: We were the first that ever burst Into that silent sea.

Down dropt the breeze, the sails dropt down, 'Twas sad as sad could be; And we did speak only to break The silence of the sea!

All in a hot and copper sky, The bloody Sun, at noon, Right up above the mast did stand, No bigger than the Moon.

Day after day, day after day, We stuck, nor breath nor motion; As idle as a painted ship Upon a painted ocean.

Water, water, every where, And all the boards did shrink; Water, water, every where, Nor any drop to drink.

The very deep did rot: O Christ! That ever this should be! Yea, slimy things did crawl with legs Upon the slimy sea.

About, about, in reel and rout The death-fires danced at night; The water, like a witch's oils, Burnt green, and blue and white.

And some in dreams assured were Of the spirit that plagued us so: Nine fathom deep he had followed us From the land of mist and snow.

And every tongue, through utter drought, Was withered at the root; We could not speak, no more than if We had been choked with soot.

Ah! well a-day! what evil looks Had I from old and young! Instead of the cross, the Albatross About my neck was hung.

PART THE THIRD

There passed a weary time. Each throat Was parched, and glazed each eye. A weary time! a weary time! How glazed each weary eye, When looking westward, I beheld A something in the sky.

At first it seemed a little speck, And then it seemed a mist: It moved and moved, and took at last A certain shape, I wist.

A speck, a mist, a shape, I wist! And still it neared and neared: As if it dodged a water-sprite, It plunged and tacked and veered.

With throats unslaked, with black lips baked, We could not laugh nor wail; Through utter drought all dumb we stood! I bit my arm, I sucked the blood, And cried, A sail! a sail!

With throats unslaked, with black lips baked, Agape they heard me call: Gramercy! they for joy did grin, And all at once their breath drew in, As they were drinking all.

See! see! (I cried) she tacks no more! Hither to work us weal; Without a breeze, without a tide, She steadies with upright keel!

The western wave was all a-flame The day was well nigh done! Almost upon the western wave Rested the broad bright Sun; When that strange shape drove suddenly Betwixt us and the Sun.

And straight the Sun was flecked with bars, (Heaven's Mother send us grace!) As if through a dungeon-grate he peered, With broad and burning face.

Alas! (thought I, and my heart beat loud) How fast she nears and nears! Are those her sails that glance in the Sun, Like restless gossameres!

Are those her ribs through which the Sun Did peer, as through a grate? And is that Woman all her crew? Is that a DEATH? and are there two? Is DEATH that woman's mate?

Her lips were red, her looks were free, Her locks were yellow as gold: Her skin was as white as leprosy, The Night-Mare LIFE-IN-DEATH was she, Who thicks man's blood with cold.

The naked hulk alongside came, And the twain were casting dice; "The game is done! I've won! I've won!" Quoth she, and whistles thrice.

The Sun's rim dips; the stars rush out: At one stride comes the dark; With far-heard whisper, o'er the sea. Off shot the spectre-bark.

We listened and looked sideways up! Fear at my heart, as at a cup, My life-blood seemed to sip!

The stars were dim, and thick the night, The steersman's face by his lamp gleamed white; From the sails the dew did drip-- Till clombe above the eastern bar The horned Moon, with one bright star Within the nether tip.

One after one, by the star-dogged Moon Too quick for groan or sigh, Each turned his face with a ghastly pang, And cursed me with his eye.

Four times fifty living men, (And I heard nor sigh nor groan) With heavy thump, a lifeless lump, They dropped down one by one.

The souls did from their bodies fly,-- They fled to bliss or woe! And every soul, it passed me by, Like the whizz of my CROSS-BOW!

PART THE FOURTH

"I fear thee, ancient Mariner! I fear thy skinny hand! And thou art long, and lank, and brown, As is the ribbed sea-sand.

"I fear thee and thy glittering eye, And thy skinny hand, so brown."-- Fear not, fear not, thou Wedding-Guest! This body dropt not down.

Alone, alone, all, all alone, Alone on a wide wide sea! And never a saint took pity on My soul in agony.

The many men, so beautiful! And they all dead did lie: And a thousand thousand slimy things Lived on; and so did I

I looked upon the rotting sea, And drew my eyes away; I looked upon the rotting deck, And there the dead men lay.

I looked to Heaven, and tried to pray: But or ever a prayer had gusht, A wicked whisper came, and made my heart as dry as dust.

I closed my lids, and kept them close, And the balls like pulses beat; For the sky and the sea, and the sea and the sky Lay like a load on my weary eye, And the dead were at my feet.

The cold sweat melted from their limbs, Nor rot nor reek did they: The look with which they looked on me Had never passed away.

An orphan's curse would drag to Hell A spirit from on high; But oh! more horrible than that Is a curse in a dead man's eye! Seven days, seven nights, I saw that curse, And yet I could not die.

The moving Moon went up the sky, And no where did abide: Softly she was going up, And a star or two beside.

Her beams bemocked the sultry main, Like April hoar-frost spread; But where the ship's huge shadow lay, The charmed water burnt alway A still and awful red.

Beyond the shadow of the ship, I watched the water-snakes: They moved in tracks of shining white, And when they reared, the elfish light Fell off in hoary flakes.

Within the shadow of the ship I watched their rich attire: Blue, glossy green, and velvet black, They coiled and swam; and every track Was a flash of golden fire.

O happy living things! no tongue Their beauty might declare: A spring of love gushed from my heart, And I blessed them unaware: Sure my kind saint took pity on me, And I blessed them unaware.

The self same moment I could pray; And from my neck so free The Albatross fell off, and sank Like lead into the sea.

PART THE FIFTH

Oh sleep! it is a gentle thing, Beloved from pole to pole! To Mary Queen the praise be given! She sent the gentle sleep from Heaven, That slid into my soul.

The silly buckets on the deck, That had so long remained, I dreamt that they were filled with dew; And when I awoke, it rained.

My lips were wet, my throat was cold, My garments all were dank; Sure I had drunken in my dreams, And still my body drank.

I moved, and could not feel my limbs: I was so light--almost I thought that I had died in sleep, And was a blessed ghost.

And soon I heard a roaring wind: It did not come anear; But with its sound it shook the sails, That were so thin and sere.

The upper air burst into life! And a hundred fire-flags sheen, To and fro they were hurried about! And to and fro, and in and out, The wan stars danced between.

And the coming wind did roar more loud, And the sails did sigh like sedge; And the rain poured down from one black cloud; The Moon was at its edge.

The thick black cloud was cleft, and still The Moon was at its side: Like waters shot from some high crag, The lightning fell with never a jag, A river steep and wide.

The loud wind never reached the ship, Yet now the ship moved on! Beneath the lightning and the Moon The dead men gave a groan.

They groaned, they stirred, they all uprose, Nor spake, nor moved their eyes; It had been strange, even in a dream, To have seen those dead men rise.

The helmsman steered, the ship moved on; Yet never a breeze up blew; The mariners all 'gan work the ropes, Were they were wont to do: They raised their limbs like lifeless tools-- We were a ghastly crew.

The body of my brother's son, Stood by me, knee to knee: The body and I pulled at one rope, But he said nought to me.

"I fear thee, ancient Mariner!" Be calm, thou Wedding-Guest! 'Twas not those souls that fled in pain, Which to their corses came again, But a troop of spirits blest:

For when it dawned--they dropped their arms, And clustered round the mast; Sweet sounds rose slowly through their mouths, And from their bodies passed.

Around, around, flew each sweet sound, Then darted to the Sun; Slowly the sounds came back again, Now mixed, now one by one.

Sometimes a-dropping from the sky I heard the sky-lark sing; Sometimes all little birds that are, How they seemed to fill the sea and air With their sweet jargoning!

And now 'twas like all instruments, Now like a lonely flute; And now it is an angel's song, That makes the Heavens be mute.

It ceased; yet still the sails made on A pleasant noise till noon, A noise like of a hidden brook In the leafy month of June, That to the sleeping woods all night Singeth a quiet tune.

Till noon we quietly sailed on, Yet never a breeze did breathe: Slowly and smoothly went the ship, Moved onward from beneath.

Under the keel nine fathom deep, From the land of mist and snow, The spirit slid: and it was he That made the ship to go. The sails at noon left off their tune, And the ship stood still also.

The Sun, right up above the mast, Had fixed her to the ocean: But in a minute she 'gan stir, With a short uneasy motion-- Backwards and forwards half her length With a short uneasy motion.

Then like a pawing horse let go, She made a sudden bound: It flung the blood into my head, And I fell down in a swound.

How long in that same fit I lay, I have not to declare; But ere my living life returned, I heard and in my soul discerned Two VOICES in the air.

"Is it he?" quoth one, "Is this the man? By him who died on cross, With his cruel bow he laid full low, The harmless Albatross.

"The spirit who bideth by himself In the land of mist and snow, He loved the bird that loved the man Who shot him with his bow."

The other was a softer voice, As soft as honey-dew: Quoth he, "The man hath penance done, And penance more will do."

PART THE SIXTH

FIRST VOICE.

But tell me, tell me! speak again, Thy soft response renewing-- What makes that ship drive on so fast? What is the OCEAN doing?

SECOND VOICE.

Still as a slave before his lord, The OCEAN hath no blast; His great bright eye most silently Up to the Moon is cast--

If he may know which way to go; For she guides him smooth or grim See, brother, see! how graciously She looketh down on him.

FIRST VOICE.

But why drives on that ship so fast, Without or wave or wind?

SECOND VOICE.

The air is cut away before, And closes from behind.

Fly, brother, fly! more high, more high Or we shall be belated: For slow and slow that ship will go, When the Mariner's trance is abated.

I woke, and we were sailing on As in a gentle weather: 'Twas night, calm night, the Moon was high; The dead men stood together.

All stood together on the deck, For a charnel-dungeon fitter: All fixed on me their stony eyes, That in the Moon did glitter.

The pang, the curse, with which they died, Had never passed away: I could not draw my eyes from theirs, Nor turn them up to pray.

And now this spell was snapt: once more I viewed the ocean green. And looked far forth, yet little saw Of what had else been seen--

Like one that on a lonesome road Doth walk in fear and dread, And having once turned round walks on, And turns no more his head; Because he knows, a frightful fiend Doth close behind him tread.

But soon there breathed a wind on me, Nor sound nor motion made: Its path was not upon the sea, In ripple or in shade.

It raised my hair, it fanned my cheek Like a meadow-gale of spring-- It mingled strangely with my fears, Yet it felt like a welcoming.

Swiftly, swiftly flew the ship, Yet she sailed softly too: Sweetly, sweetly blew the breeze-- On me alone it blew.

Oh! dream of joy! is this indeed The light-house top I see? Is this the hill? is this the kirk? Is this mine own countree!

We drifted o'er the harbour-bar, And I with sobs did pray-- O let me be awake, my God! Or let me sleep alway.

The harbour-bay was clear as glass, So smoothly it was strewn! And on the bay the moonlight lay, And the shadow of the moon.

The rock shone bright, the kirk no less, That stands above the rock: The moonlight steeped in silentness The steady weathercock.

And the bay was white with silent light, Till rising from the same, Full many shapes, that shadows were, In crimson colours came.

A little distance from the prow Those crimson shadows were: I turned my eyes upon the deck-- Oh, Christ! what saw I there!

Each corse lay flat, lifeless and flat, And, by the holy rood! A man all light, a seraph-man, On every corse there stood.

This seraph band, each waved his hand: It was a heavenly sight! They stood as signals to the land, Each one a lovely light:

This seraph-band, each waved his hand, No voice did they impart-- No voice; but oh! the silence sank Like music on my heart.

But soon I heard the dash of oars; I heard the Pilot's cheer; My head was turned perforce away, And I saw a boat appear.

The Pilot, and the Pilot's boy, I heard them coming fast: Dear Lord in Heaven! it was a joy The dead men could not blast.

I saw a third--I heard his voice: It is the Hermit good! He singeth loud his godly hymns That he makes in the wood. He'll shrieve my soul, he'll wash away The Albatross's blood.

PART THE SEVENTH

This Hermit good lives in that wood Which slopes down to the sea. How loudly his sweet voice he rears! He loves to talk with marineres That come from a far countree.

He kneels at morn and noon and eve-- He hath a cushion plump: It is the moss that wholly hides The rotted old oak-stump.

The skiff-boat neared: I heard them talk, "Why this is strange, I trow! Where are those lights so many and fair, That signal made but now?"

"Strange, by my faith!" the Hermit said-- "And they answered not our cheer! The planks looked warped! and see those sails, How thin they are and sere! I never saw aught like to them, Unless perchance it were

"Brown skeletons of leaves that lag My forest-brook along; When the ivy-tod is heavy with snow, And the owlet whoops to the wolf below, That eats the she-wolf's young."

"Dear Lord! it hath a fiendish look-- (The Pilot made reply) I am a-feared"--"Push on, push on!" Said the Hermit cheerily.

The boat came closer to the ship, But I nor spake nor stirred; The boat came close beneath the ship, And straight a sound was heard.

Under the water it rumbled on, Still louder and more dread: It reached the ship, it split the bay; The ship went down like lead.

Stunned by that loud and dreadful sound, Which sky and ocean smote, Like one that hath been seven days drowned My body lay afloat; But swift as dreams, myself I found Within the Pilot's boat.

Upon the whirl, where sank the ship, The boat spun round and round; And all was still, save that the hill Was telling of the sound.

I moved my lips--the Pilot shrieked And fell down in a fit; The holy Hermit raised his eyes, And prayed where he did sit.

I took the oars: the Pilot's boy, Who now doth crazy go, Laughed loud and long, and all the while His eyes went to and fro. "Ha! ha!" quoth he, "full plain I see, The Devil knows how to row."

And now, all in my own countree, I stood on the firm land! The Hermit stepped forth from the boat, And scarcely he could stand.

"O shrieve me, shrieve me, holy man!" The Hermit crossed his brow. "Say quick," quoth he, "I bid thee say-- What manner of man art thou?"

Forthwith this frame of mine was wrenched With a woeful agony, Which forced me to begin my tale; And then it left me free.

Since then, at an uncertain hour, That agony returns; And till my ghastly tale is told, This heart within me burns.

I pass, like night, from land to land; I have strange power of speech; That moment that his face I see, I know the man that must hear me: To him my tale I teach.

What loud uproar bursts from that door! The wedding-guests are there: But in the garden-bower the bride And bride-maids singing are: And hark the little vesper bell, Which biddeth me to prayer!

O Wedding-Guest! this soul hath been Alone on a wide wide sea: So lonely 'twas, that God himself Scarce seemed there to be.

O sweeter than the marriage-feast, 'Tis sweeter far to me, To walk together to the kirk With a goodly company!--

To walk together to the kirk, And all together pray, While each to his great Father bends, Old men, and babes, and loving friends, And youths and maidens gay!

Farewell, farewell! but this I tell To thee, thou Wedding-Guest! He prayeth well, who loveth well Both man and bird and beast.

He prayeth best, who loveth best All things both great and small; For the dear God who loveth us He made and loveth all.

The Mariner, whose eye is bright, Whose beard with age is hoar, Is gone: and now the Wedding-Guest Turned from the bridegroom's door.

He went like one that hath been stunned, And is of sense forlorn: A sadder and a wiser man, He rose the morrow morn.

#whole #poem #read #source: The Rime of the Ancient Mariner

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fromtheheart-kin · 7 years

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Aesthetic for a Hyazinth Macaw!

- Mod Percival

#mod matt #Hyazinth macaw #Hyazinth macaw kin #therian #therian aesthetic #otherkin #birdkin #tropical bird kin #kin aesthetic #kin #aes

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thecoffeeisblack · 4 years

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Work in progress underpainting for Megalosaurus bucklandii. In 1676, English naturalist Robert Plot described the fragmentary remains of what he thought was the thighbone of a Roman war elephant, later changing his identification to that of a giant from the pages of the bible. The fragment of fossilized femur, originally discovered in a limestone quarry in Oxfordshire in England, was included in Plot's book, Natural History of Oxfordshire, which featured an illustration dubbed, "Scrotum humanum," in reference to the broken end of bone's resembling a petrified set of human testicles.

As humorous as that name is in retrospect, it was eventually supplanted by the genus and species name for the animal that science would come to identify the fossil as having come from, Megalosaurus bucklandii. Though that original fossil has been lost to time, making it impossible to truly identify it as having belonged to Megalosaurus, other remains were found later, helping us paint a picture of this ancient hunter.

In 1797 a partial specimen of the lower jaw of what was later described as belonging to Megalosaurus was added to the collection of Christ Church College. Other specimens were gathered from quarries throughout the later 18th century and the early 19th, but the very concept of animals going extinct was still very new at the time, as was the concept and practice of comparative anatomy techniques. William Buckland, professor of Geology at the University of Oxford and the dean of Christ Church College further built up a collection of fossils and began studying them, including the jaw that had been previously uncovered. It wasn't until the famous French anatomist George Cuvier identified the bones as coming from that of a giant reptile while at the college on a visit that things really got going.

After the publication of research on other contemporary discoveries like that of the Mosasaurus and Plesiosaurus, Buckland finally gave his creature the official scientific name of Megalosaurus (meaning "Great Lizard") in 1824, making it the first non-avian dinosaur ever named in the history of modern science. Early reconstructions based on Buckland's work depicted the creature as walking on all fours and being very lizard like, the most famous of these depictions was commissioned in 1852 to accompany the Crystal Palace, relocated to that location after the 1851 Great Exhibition, where it still stands today in Crystal Palace Park next to many other early examples of prehistoric life.

We now know that M. bucklandii was a theropod, making it more closely related to modern birds than the lizards originally thought to be its kin, it stood on 2 legs and measured around 30 feet in length, weighing in at about 1.5 to 3 tons. Sadly we have never found a complete specimen, so even it's face is not well known to us at this point, but we know that it was a carnivore and that it lived in a tropical environment during the Middle Jurassic period, about 166 million years ago. It took hundreds of years to put the pieces together and we still only have a fraction of what we need for a complete picture of this animal, but it made its mark on human scientific history just as sure as it made a mark on the natural history of our world.

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nabesthetics · 4 years

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Draconids: Saltwater Dwellers

Description and status in the modern era

Southern High Lindwurm

Danger level: 2.5-3 Elemental affinity: Lightning Intelligence: Sapient Status: Isolated

The only surviving subspecies of sapient water-dwelling lindwurms, Southern High lindwurms are natural inhabitants of cold seas south of the main continent. Formerly encountered in the Strait of Seals, they were pushed further south by human activity, now mainly residing in both deep and shallow waters of the Frozen sea. They build their dens in natural and dragon-made caverns, with underwater entrances in the cliffsides of islands and the continent.

Physiology: Cold-blooded, omnivorous lindwurms covered with thick non-scaled skin. Most are neutral colored in blue/green-ish range, with dark stripes and/or spots; “emerald” morphs haven’t been seen in a few centuries; “ice” morphs are exceptionally rare and appear to be sterile. An average adult reaches 13 ft. in length, with some individuals glowing up to 15 ft. Ice morphs tend to be smaller, up to 10 ft. in length. No observable sexual dimorphism. Theorized average lifespan of ~150 years.

Behavior: Southern lindwurms avoid contact with humans; it is unclear whether they cannot shapeshift at all or simply prefer to remain isolated. Not aggressive, and quite social among their own, they live in communities of 7-10 individuals; rivalries between communities are rare. During winters, entrances to the dens are sealed as lindwurms hibernate for 3-4 months.

Combat: Most possess natural affinity to lightning spells, releasing the charge when biting their prey or opponent, often wrapping their long bodies around the target in the process in attempt to immobilize and/or strangle them. Spellcasters use more powerful electric spells and telekinesis. Ice morphs appear to have stronger magical abilities, though true to their name, they tend to use water and ice magic instead. Generally, lindwurms prefer to flee rather than fight, unless the den or their kin are threatened.

Shoreline High Dragon

Danger level: 4 Elemental affinity: Water Intelligence: Sapient Status: Integrated

Originating from shallow areas of Sea of Persephia, most shoreline high dragons have abandoned their original lifestyle and spread throughout the continent, blending into human society. Now they are most commonly encountered among ship crews; there is a myth of a pirate crew consisting entirely of shoreline high dragons, but actual existence of such a ship is debated.

Physiology: Warm-blooded omnivores covered in short coarse sleek fur. Most often soft green or brown; unusual colorations like “golden” or “midnight” ones used to be rare due to being targeted by predators and humans, but are becoming more common. No distinct marks aside from a light stripe on the edge of their crests and wing membrane. Relatively small dragons, generally up to 9 ft in length, with males being slightly larger. Average lifespan: 230 years.

The distinct 10 antennae are used for detecting magical and life energy currents in both air and water. Their loss makes the dragon disoriented and susceptible to illnesses, though exceptional regeneration abilities of the species allows them fully recover the antennae in about two weeks.

Behavior: In nature, shoreline dragons would travel along sea coasts and nest in river deltas in pairs or small groups. The nomadic habits made them feel at home aboard human ships. Highly energetic, empathic and most often extroverted, shoreline dragons are one of the few draconid species that fit into human communities without trouble. However, tight bonds with humans often end with a heartbreak due to the dragons’ longer lifespan, and older individuals tend to become more quiet and reclusive over time. For the same reason, these dragons tend to form close relationships with each other – it is uncommon for a shoreline shapeshifter to work alone among humans.

Combat: Shoreline dragons aren’t naturally aggressive, but they are quite easily provoked. If fighting side-to-side with humans, they stick to the same tactics; however, in a life-threatening situation their strategy switches to overwhelming magical force. The shoreline high dragons’ magical affinity is significantly strong and versatile: their instinctual magic revolves around water element, but most of them advance their skillset with other offensive elemental spells and magic schools.

Cloud Chaser

Danger level: 3 Elemental affinity: Air/Lightning Intelligence: Beast Status: Isolated/extinct

Formerly one of the more plentiful species of lesser dragons soaring over the seas in areas with semi-tropical and tropical climate, cloud chasers were exterminated and pushed from the continent during the Dragon Conflict. It is unknown whether they are completely extinct or still reside in territories that humans haven’t reached yet.

Physiology: Cold-blooded obligatory carnivores covered with small matte scales, sporting a wide variety of color depending on the region, characterized by light areas on long, thin webbed wings. Males’ wings were significantly darker on the outer side. Albino specimens were surprisingly common and didn’t fare much worse than the rest of their kin. Size of an adult individual varied between 15 and 25 feet in length depending on the bloodline. Average natural lifespan is unknown due to high mortality rate, but there is a legend about a cloud chaser that breached 300 years old before being hunted down.

Behavior: Cloud chasers nested on cliffsides, residing in the same territory with a mate and offspring. During the breeding season dragons flew to islands to mate, after which the females returned to their territory with a different male every year. Cloud chasers flew far from the shores to hunt large sea birds, fish and humans, when the latter began contesting the dragons by fishing. Being highly territorial, Cloud chasers would attack boats and ships that moved towards their nesting site, and became a serious threat to vessels in the Emerald sea. Resilience to heights allowed these dragons to soar over most clouds, granting them their name.

Combat: Fast and agile flyers, cloud chasers attacked smaller opponents or prey by diving from the sky, grabbing their targets and lifting them up to drop them onto cliffs or into water from high altitude. They primarily used magic to fly rather than fight, aside from a single trait that made this species especially dangerous during and shortly after thunderstorms. Cloud chasers took to the sky, actively seeking out a lightning hit; absorbing most of the electric power, the dragons could use it over the next few days to unleash devastating elemental attacks onto larger prey — or ships.

Genus: Carved Sea Serpents

A.k.a. “Sea Harvesters”

Danger level: 4 Elemental affinity: None (?) Intelligence: Beast Status: Active, uncovered

Several species of similar physiology and behavior, carved sea serpents are rarely considered draconids outside of expert circles. It is the magical traits of their bodies that prove their belonging in the Dragon Class. Unlike with most draconids, existence of carved sea serpents is a known fact, although they are still surrounded by an array of sailor tales and legends.

Appearance of these beasts in the waters of Salty Sea is very recent; their presence beyond the Strait of Seals used to be anecdotal at best, but the sightings – and attacks – became more frequent over the past few decades, for reasons yet unknown.

Physiology: Cold-blooded obligatory carnivores covered with small scales with almost sandpaper-like surface, and mineral formations that grow and spread throughout the creature’s life, starting at the neck and tip of the tail. Shape and color of the mineral varies from species to species, ranging from rough gray to agate-like rock. Black, gray, brown and teal are the most common hide colors. Legends often mention albino Harvesters or individuals covered with precious crystals, but those claims haven’t met any proper proof so far. Species of carved sea serpents range from 30 to 50 feet as old adults; legendary 100 feet-long individuals haven’t been sighted since the Dragon Conflict. Average lifespan unknown but is theorized to be above 500 years.

Behavior: Despite their uncovered status, behavior of these beasts isn’t well-studied. Carved serpents were never seen in couples or groups, and judging by scars present on most individuals they are highly aggressive towards each other. With primal magic allowing them to breathe underwater and withstand tremendous pressure, they remain in deep waters most of the time, and it’s likely that their young never ascend to the surface until they reach specific age.

There are debates around reasons why the carved serpents come up to the surface, and attack ships when they do, considering that their usual prey consists of animals much larger than humans; some of the incidents suggest that the creatures are provoked by magic use and artifacts. Adjusting ship courses and equipping them with specifically crafted harpoons has reduced the number of attacks, but reports of serpent sightings closer to the shores are concerning.

Combat: Harvesters do not appear* to possess any elemental magic attacks, instead relying on their brute force. However, the said force is enough to grant them a high danger rating, as larger specimens are capable of sinking a large ship in minutes by ramming the hull or crushing both wood and metal with their jaws.

*The creatures are most often seen during severe storms, but it isn’t known if they are simply attracted by the unrest on the surface, or actually affect the weather in any way.

Great Sea Dragon

Danger level: 4-5 Elemental affinity: Water Intelligence: Unknown Status: Active

Common figures in myths, great sea dragons do not actually appear in the internal continent seas. Their sole existence is debated even within dragonhunting circles. Ancient records claim that they did reside in the local waters once, but left by themselves during the Dragon Conflict, and now remain in the Great ocean, acting as one of the reasons humanity hasn’t been able to cross it.

Physiology: Described as serpents visually similar to many land dragons, these creatures are claimed to never stop growing, with ancient, mythical variants reaching 150 ft. long and higher due to their unknown but immensely long lifespan. They are covered in orange, red or blue scales and sport signature fins on their heads and tails.

Behavior: Unknown; old records mention sea dragon attacks on ships and even seaside cities – a sea serpent is claimed to be responsible for one of the early disastrous cataclysms in Ancient Vesuvia – but every story is accompanied with nuances that make the attacks seem to be revenge or retaliation to endangering the serpent or its young. However, if the theory of them destroying ships in the Great ocean is true, then the dragons became much more aggressive since their leave of the continent.

Combat: Great sea dragons are described to have immense destructive magical abilities revolving around controlling the waters around them, raising massive waves and creating maelstroms. Younger individuals that haven’t reached that level of magical prowess would use scalding steam as their elemental breath. Physically, they could crush boats by wrapping their long bodies around the vessel and constricting it.

#did literally anybody ask for this? no. here it is anyway #sure I COULD make my own setting... but I don't wanna bother with making geography from scratch lmao #let's call this uhhhhh #Dragonverse!Arcana #Nabesimart #the Arcana worldbuilding #except I'm just putting dragons in it #that's worldbuilding right?#idk if anyone bothers to read it but hey I'm pretty proud of those drawings so

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