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Novellasaurus
Planetoid
- Joined
- Sep 25, 2019
Intense temperatures baked the vivid land.
Nothing was safe from the touch of the sun's waning energy. Like a casual fire, humidity from the weather slithered through the world of the K'Narthian forest. Its heat touched every inch of the amazing forest and left no crevice undiscovered in its relentless battle to claim everything. The temperature soared for the jungle, reaching a staggering high of 118° Fahrenheit as the day progressed and the sun flew higher into the clear blue sky. Rays from the mammoth ball of yellow cooked and baked the earth, not dissimilar from the effects of a mud ball in a tanning salon. Dry earth certainly marked some area of the magnificent land, but it was not called a rainforest for its lack of water.
While no clouds would come until night to quench the thirst of the land, steam clouds made up the rebellion against the repressive forces of heat. They lubricated the parched trees and moistened the coarse shrubs. Not a leaf was left unkissed by the kind lips of the steam, and the plants of the jungle were thankful to be given a chance for existence. Their plants flowed freely even when not under the assault of the sun, and vividly colored fruit grew in unimaginable sizes.
The sun soon set over the jungle terrain of this truly awe inspiring forest. It was a sight seen everyday by those who lived in or near the area, but it never lost it's natural beauty at all. The short lived spectacle would signal the end of another day for the creatures and plants within the giant land.
As far as the eye could see in several dirctions,even in the encroaching dark of night, there was only green with rings of brown. Vast legions of towering dipterocarps and zangrove trees stood closely packed with each in their furious, never ending battle for the sweet touch of sunlight. Their leaves were regular sized near the top of the trees, but a lower height called for a greater span to catch light that existed not at night; lower leaves could grow to the size of dinner plates and fan out on the ends of wickedly shaped branches. When parts of the land were blocked by one group of trees, another one or two would lean at odd angles to get their time in the sunlight. The bark of the trees were thicker than average tree and unless you had a group of Zaraboar at your command then knocking one down was an impossibility.
The animals of the jungle were just as fortunate as the plants, overheated as they were this day. Xano Sloths needed have moisture in the air--sleeping just wasn't the same when your tree caught on fire. Polka dot Macaws were pleased with the constant supply of steam in the air, keeping their nests from becoming ovens for their eggs. They ignored the neverending calls of their neighbors, the tree faring howler gorillas who seated themselves at the highest parts of their trees to feel a sense of superiority. They hooted and barked down at the glowing, shine-obsessed coconut crabs that passed quietly underneath but kept silent when a sleek, starving Doe Tige prowled after the scent of the blue shelled crustaceans--theirassive antlers crowned high on their feline heads. On occasions, a few Thunder peacocks, and peahens squawked their way across the jungle floor. Their fairly slow gait made them easy chicken dinner for the likes of Vinyl jaguar, but they weren't the only predators that favored their poultry meat. If some got close enough then a big cat was a likely outcome, but straying near an occupied water source could lead to a spike backed Caiman’s lunch. Ground dwellings often resulted in large lizards snacking upon startled peacocks or River Faeries, so a few of their genus would rightly assume that trees were safe places. Or, any creature for that matter.
And it would be any other Titanython's lucky day for a screwing toy.
This was definitely not one of his better days, that much he could attest to. Mtruki winced as he pulled the tenth quill from out from his scales. It was a wonder he could even see them with such a pale moonlight dancing in the increasingly darkening sky, and the shadows of the tree branches encroaching on his gargantuan complexion. After all, it was the darkness and lack of its opposite that caused his current suffering in full; How embarrassing, to mistake a Thompson porcupine for a capybara. He was lucky that he didn't strike with his jaws like his simple-minded brethren. That would have been very unfortunate.
But unfortunate was Mtruki's last name(who cares for the middle nowadays). Many unlucky things attacked him from time to time, usually concerning getting an entertaining toy to squeeze and perhaps enjoy in more ways than one. Anything he usually caught in his blubbery coils didn't rival his already impeccable cunning and didn't offer him anything particularly appealing to his list side-- He was no good citizen of the jungle by any means, but even animals like him deserved an attractive fuck toy, right? Certainly not 12 porcupine quills and a disatisfied hepimene...or two.
When he removed the last two sharp quills, he made a loud Hmmph and let his shovel shaped head slam limp on a pair of coils shaped like crossed arms. His hairless brow furrowed from a soiled mood and an energetic bloodstream. After all, the jungle had just started its summer season. The jungle always had humid nights, perhaps even hotter than the day. Tonight was no exception: Steam rose from moisture on branches and plant life, heating everything up like a wide Sauna and even bringing crocodiles to sweat. Mtruki was lucky in the regard of heat, at least. Just too much heat, and no creature to let that steam off into. He was out of luck it seemed.
In more ways than one; such as placing his tail out of potential harm's way, like on the ground in the dark.
Nothing was safe from the touch of the sun's waning energy. Like a casual fire, humidity from the weather slithered through the world of the K'Narthian forest. Its heat touched every inch of the amazing forest and left no crevice undiscovered in its relentless battle to claim everything. The temperature soared for the jungle, reaching a staggering high of 118° Fahrenheit as the day progressed and the sun flew higher into the clear blue sky. Rays from the mammoth ball of yellow cooked and baked the earth, not dissimilar from the effects of a mud ball in a tanning salon. Dry earth certainly marked some area of the magnificent land, but it was not called a rainforest for its lack of water.
While no clouds would come until night to quench the thirst of the land, steam clouds made up the rebellion against the repressive forces of heat. They lubricated the parched trees and moistened the coarse shrubs. Not a leaf was left unkissed by the kind lips of the steam, and the plants of the jungle were thankful to be given a chance for existence. Their plants flowed freely even when not under the assault of the sun, and vividly colored fruit grew in unimaginable sizes.
The sun soon set over the jungle terrain of this truly awe inspiring forest. It was a sight seen everyday by those who lived in or near the area, but it never lost it's natural beauty at all. The short lived spectacle would signal the end of another day for the creatures and plants within the giant land.
As far as the eye could see in several dirctions,even in the encroaching dark of night, there was only green with rings of brown. Vast legions of towering dipterocarps and zangrove trees stood closely packed with each in their furious, never ending battle for the sweet touch of sunlight. Their leaves were regular sized near the top of the trees, but a lower height called for a greater span to catch light that existed not at night; lower leaves could grow to the size of dinner plates and fan out on the ends of wickedly shaped branches. When parts of the land were blocked by one group of trees, another one or two would lean at odd angles to get their time in the sunlight. The bark of the trees were thicker than average tree and unless you had a group of Zaraboar at your command then knocking one down was an impossibility.
The animals of the jungle were just as fortunate as the plants, overheated as they were this day. Xano Sloths needed have moisture in the air--sleeping just wasn't the same when your tree caught on fire. Polka dot Macaws were pleased with the constant supply of steam in the air, keeping their nests from becoming ovens for their eggs. They ignored the neverending calls of their neighbors, the tree faring howler gorillas who seated themselves at the highest parts of their trees to feel a sense of superiority. They hooted and barked down at the glowing, shine-obsessed coconut crabs that passed quietly underneath but kept silent when a sleek, starving Doe Tige prowled after the scent of the blue shelled crustaceans--theirassive antlers crowned high on their feline heads. On occasions, a few Thunder peacocks, and peahens squawked their way across the jungle floor. Their fairly slow gait made them easy chicken dinner for the likes of Vinyl jaguar, but they weren't the only predators that favored their poultry meat. If some got close enough then a big cat was a likely outcome, but straying near an occupied water source could lead to a spike backed Caiman’s lunch. Ground dwellings often resulted in large lizards snacking upon startled peacocks or River Faeries, so a few of their genus would rightly assume that trees were safe places. Or, any creature for that matter.
And it would be any other Titanython's lucky day for a screwing toy.
This was definitely not one of his better days, that much he could attest to. Mtruki winced as he pulled the tenth quill from out from his scales. It was a wonder he could even see them with such a pale moonlight dancing in the increasingly darkening sky, and the shadows of the tree branches encroaching on his gargantuan complexion. After all, it was the darkness and lack of its opposite that caused his current suffering in full; How embarrassing, to mistake a Thompson porcupine for a capybara. He was lucky that he didn't strike with his jaws like his simple-minded brethren. That would have been very unfortunate.
But unfortunate was Mtruki's last name(who cares for the middle nowadays). Many unlucky things attacked him from time to time, usually concerning getting an entertaining toy to squeeze and perhaps enjoy in more ways than one. Anything he usually caught in his blubbery coils didn't rival his already impeccable cunning and didn't offer him anything particularly appealing to his list side-- He was no good citizen of the jungle by any means, but even animals like him deserved an attractive fuck toy, right? Certainly not 12 porcupine quills and a disatisfied hepimene...or two.
When he removed the last two sharp quills, he made a loud Hmmph and let his shovel shaped head slam limp on a pair of coils shaped like crossed arms. His hairless brow furrowed from a soiled mood and an energetic bloodstream. After all, the jungle had just started its summer season. The jungle always had humid nights, perhaps even hotter than the day. Tonight was no exception: Steam rose from moisture on branches and plant life, heating everything up like a wide Sauna and even bringing crocodiles to sweat. Mtruki was lucky in the regard of heat, at least. Just too much heat, and no creature to let that steam off into. He was out of luck it seemed.
In more ways than one; such as placing his tail out of potential harm's way, like on the ground in the dark.
