pessiceratops | Primeval Age gallery

Illustration of hatchling Doog with his head in a groundhog burrow, with the groundhog nearby scolding him

I may have almost overextended myself with this one, whoops. All for the sake of fluffy hatchling backside! For the Groundhogs monthly prompt, click for larger version.

Edited 2023-02-27 04:30 (UTC)

For the March Madness prompt, somebody has a case of the zoomies! Also shading dark/gray stuff sucks. Caurok and Cordea belong to Etherical.

B&W version here

In the lee of Isla Pera's volcanoes, one can sometimes find deep valleys. Though surrounded by relatively arid lands, what occasional rain does fall collects in them, creating lush vales in stark contrast to the dry rock encasing them. Often, one might catch a glimpse of a rainbow during one of those scattered rainfalls, but look quickly, as these cloudbursts vanish as quickly as they come.

For the Discovering the World event!

Edited 2023-04-19 05:27 (UTC)

B&W version here

Once, there was a forest growing on a high plateau. Then suddenly the ground on one side gave way, turning the once-flat plain into a slope. What trees didn't topple in the abrupt collapse continued to grow while stubbornly clinging to the hillside, producing a bizarre woods of strangely-angled trunks.

For the Discovering the World event!

Edited 2023-04-19 05:27 (UTC)

Dinosaurs + horses is clearly a winning combination. Actually almost happy with the shading on this one!

Etherical's Noxtide wants a closer look at those horses, and has brought fruits to bribe them into approaching. Will his plan succeed? Only time will tell...

A soft, rhythmic grinding could be heard as Doog chewed some of the long, tough grasses that lined the shore. And chewed. And continued to chew. And then chewed some more. Chewing as endless and relentless as the waves that steadily rolled onto the beach. The hatchling sprawled on his belly on the soft sand, grunting a little as he worked on turning the stringy, fibrous mass into something halfway palatable. Finally, he titled his head back and swallowed, gulping it down in a hastily awkward way that might make an observer wonder if he'd really finished chewing, or had simply gotten too impatient to continue bothering. Then he laid his head down with a sigh, rolling over onto his side and kicking at the sand irritably. Lately it had always been like this for every meal every day, the same old tough shore grass over and over again, with only the occasional small leafy thing for variety. That, or the oh so salty seaweed that he still could hardly stand the smell of, let alone the taste.

Doog was tired of it. He wanted something different for once! Or at least something tastier.

With a soft snort he rose to his feet again, taking a moment to shake loose the fine grains of sand that inevitably lodged in his sand-colored down. He was still hungry, of course, but he wasn't so hungry that he needed to eat more right now. Maybe he could still mange to find something else that somebody had overlooked. He vaguely was aware that he really wasn't supposed to wander off on his own, but he shouldn't have to go far. Just a little bit beyond the beach, away from the wind and salt spray that only the toughest plants seemed able to withstand. A brief and short walk, a quick and better-tasting meal, and then back again before anyone noticed. A perfect, completely foolproof plan to solve such an important and imperative problem.

His course of action decided, Doog started making his way away from the shore, scrambling over sandy dunes and clambering up the far bank. It was a little steep in this area, so it took him a several moments and more than a few tries, but eventually he was able to pull himself up over it. There, above the bank, he was rewarded with the sight of... even more grasses. Grasses and rocks in all directions, and maybe a short, woody shrub or two to break up the monotony. He could see trees further off in the distance inland, of course, but it was hard to tell from his low vantage point whether there was anything growing low enough that he could actually reach among them. Not to mention that it might be too far for him to get to without being missed and called back, anyway. Slightly disheartened, but not ready to give up just yet, Doog set about searching the immediate area anyway, as thoroughly as possible.

Unfortunately for him, most of what he found was, well, grass. And still more grass. There was perhaps a little more variety of kinds of grasses up here, but they were still just grass, and having come this far, Doog didn't want to settle for another version of the same so easily. More searching found some equally tough-looking and spiny weeds, which were even worse, and a few tiny, tender seedlings just sprouting. Those Doog gobbled up, but they barely merited any thought, hardly amounting to even a mouthful combined. He continued a little further, then, finally coming to the reluctant conclusion that maybe there was nothing up here after all, turned to begin to circle back to where he came.

That was when he spotted it. A series of broad, thick, dark green leaves splayed outward across the ground from a stem so short they might as well simply be sprouting directly from the dirt. In the middle of the leaves a small cluster of pointed, cup-shaped violet flowers stood out. Intrigued, Doog trotted over to the unknown plant, circling and sniffing at it. It did look tasty, with those big and lush leaves, and it was definitely the biggest thing he'd found yet, but it still was low-ground and not all that large. Fortunately, however, as it happened all it took was a little inquisitive pawing at the ground under it to reveal a nice, thick root that forked into a couple of funny-shaped prongs. Why, with this, it should keep him full for whole hours! Pleased with himself and his lucky find, Doog leaned in, beaked mouth gaping wide to gulp it down... And then suddenly froze in place, not moving a muscle as a large shadow blocked out the sun and loomed over him.

"Doog," came a voice as gentle as gentle as sea spray, as soft as waves lapping the shore. "That one is poison."

Doog closed his mouth and slowly turned, looking back behind and above. A patchwork of grays and beige filled his vision as he stared up at Cordea, looming over so close to him he had to crane his little neck back to see her. "... Poison?" he asked, all questions about how she even found him so soon, let alone managed to approach without him even noticing, forgotten in his surprise.

The older Styracosaurus nodded sagely, then spoke in her quiet tone. "Should you eat that, you will become dizzy and disoriented. Your head will ache and your heart will race. Your tongue will dry and your skin will burn Your vision will blur and yet you will see wild visions. It has its uses, at times, but is not to simply be eaten."

"Oh." Doog sat back on his haunches, staring at the plant as if doing so could somehow give him more or better answers while he thought over what he'd been told. "What if... What about a little bit?" he finally asked, in a hopeful tone.

"It is still poison," was the calm and implacable reply. "Remember this, should you find it again."

With that, Cordea turned to go, apparently satisfied that she had conveyed all that she needed to say on the matter. Doog rose and started to dutifully follow, as now that he'd been found the others would be expecting him to come back, then hesitated, glancing back at the plant sprawling across the ground again. With it's lush, green, delicious-looking leaves. "But there's nothing else good to eat here!" he cried. "It's always grass, and grass, and more grass. I'm tired of grass!" He punctuated the last bit with a little stomp of his foot, just to show how angry he was. If that had any effect on Cordea, well, she didn't show it, seeing as how she barely paused to glance back and respond.

"There is always the sea's bounty, as well, which is plentiful here," she replied, then continued on her way.

That was most definitely not the answer the little hatchling wanted to hear, and he sank to the ground once more in a stubborn sulk. Even the grasses were a little salty from the sea spray and wind, if he didn't even like that much, how could anyone expect him to eat the much, much saltier weeds that grew in the water itself? Not to mention that it had been the very toughness of trying to chew those grasses that had started him off on his quest in the first place. He didn't like it, and it just wasn't fair at all.

Doog lay there for another few minutes, quietly bemoaning his clearly terrible fate. Eventually, though, his stomach began to remind him of how he'd cut his previous meal rather short in favor of going off looking for better food. Only just a little bit, at first, but then more and more insistently, until eventually there was simply no more ignoring it. He snorted sharply, then finally clambered back to his feet. He still didn't like being stuck eating nothing but grass or--shudder--seaweed, but he liked feeling hungry even less than that. And the more time passed, the hungrier and hungrier he got. In fact, if this continued, he felt like he was going to get closer and closer to outright starving at this rate. He'd just have to deal with it and eat something, no matter how boring or tough or disgusting it was. Although...

He cast one last glance over at the violet-flowered plant, the one that Cordea had told him was poisonous. With its lush-looking and sprawling green leaves, and its large and thick root with the funny shape. Surely it wouldn't hurt to have just a little nibble? Maybe just one leaf, for the sake of a bit of variety and flavor, and then he could go eat the shore grass for the rest of the day. If that's all, he'd be fine, right? Most things were only really poisonous if you ate too much of them, weren't they?

* * *

A few days and a lot of sick later, Doog was so utterly famished that he didn't complain once about just eating the shore grass.

Doog's adventures in foraging! Cordea belongs to Etherical.

For Etherical. Lorcan snoozing on a rocky beach.

For Etherical. It must've been hard to climb that ladder with webbed feet, but at least flippers can't do it...

Haize just wanted to relax on a nice scenic mountain overlook. Then some of the mountain started falling on her...

Haize exploring the labs with the help of a guide.

Seaside rocks tend to be wet. Wet rocks are slippery! Doog neglected to take this into account and took a bit of a tumble...

Sandar swears he didn't just get spooked and fall off his perch one stormy night. He was ambushed by the Mountain Monster and narrowly escaped! Really! That's definitely what happened!

Playing with an inking style I haven't done in aaaaages.

It's not enough just to have a snug cave as colder days approach, a nice, comfortable bed is a must! Plus, dry hay can double as an emergency snack.

Doog is happy to share some food with a friend! And some friendly scavengers.

The sea waves rose and fell, gently and inexorably, and the young styracosaurusus paddling his way rose and fell with them.

Well, mostly. Despite his best effort to keep his head well aloft and clear of the swells and spray, Doog still found himself with a mouth and nose full of salty water. He snorted and shook his head, trying to clear his stinging sinuses even as he continued paddling doggedly along. An exercise in mild irritations it may be, but he needed to try to get the hang of this. To be sure, there was usually plenty of forage to be found on or near the beaches themselves, but everyone knew that all the truly good stuff was in the reefs and kelp beds off shore. Which naturally meant swimming to reach them, far more often than not, and which in turn was why Doog continued to paddle, doing his best in his efforts to get the hang of bobbing along with the waves instead of against them.

Still, it was annoying. Not that the stout little juvenile was actually tiring or anything, this was hardly his first foray into the water, but he was getting good and sick of the constant assault of salt. Salty spray in his eyes, salt splashing into his nostrils, and so much saltwater in his mouth he began to wonder whether he'd ever be able to taste anything else but salt ever again. Doog was still reluctant to give up on his swimming practice just yet even so, however, so instead another idea came to him. There was no reason he couldn't find a nicer, calmer place to practice, with fewer and smaller waves to contend with. In fact, that would be even better, wouldn't it? That way he could really focus on his swimming, rather than having to split his attention trying to keep track of so many things at once, and inevitably get doused for the bother.

This resolution made, Doog started looking about, scanning the waters around him as best he could. Though whether a result of his low vantage point or simply plain old bad luck, he couldn't seem to find anything suitable. Or at least, that looked any different from how this patch of waves had before he was in the middle of them. Still, he kept looking, straining his short neck to its utmost as he sought out a more favorable swimming area, and naturally got another wave in his face for his trouble. He was getting close to giving up altogether when finally, something caught his eye. It was barely noticeable, but there was indeed a patch of water that looked calmer than the surrounding waves. A long band like someone had made a path straight from the shore to the sea. It looked just about perfect, and the young styracosaurus promptly changed course to paddle towards it.

It didn't take long to reach it, and so excited was Doog at the prospect that he hardly even noticed when still another wave washed over his head. Instead he just paddled on as doggedly as ever, and soon there he was, blissfully floating in that band of calm. Such a pleasant change of pace it was that Doog simply let himself float for a moment, cheerfully whistling tunelessly as he gave the water a playful splash. Why hadn't he thought of this earlier, and why couldn't all swimming be like this? Truly, deep thoughts to be pondered later, whenever he had finally tired of swimming for the day.

Seen from the shore, however, the scene playing out did not look nearly so idyllic. Where before the juvenile could be easily seen only a few lengths out, now his feathery back was a rapidly shrinking blob of green-flecked sand as the current carried him swiftly away from shore. There were no shrieks or shrill cries of distress to alert the adults to any danger, as the young styracosaurus was quite oblivious to it. Fortunately for him, however, someone did notice, as a certain dark-scaled male happened to look up at just the right moment to spot the wayward troublefinder.

And promptly let out a curse, before rushing to the shore.

"Doog!" Caurok bellowed as he thundered across the sand. "Get out of there!"

Thankfully, sound often carries well over water, and Doog did indeed hear his name being called. Or at least, he heard something that was probably his name when he stopped to think about it, though his whistling had made it hard for him to make out much beyond that. Still, if someone was calling him--and it sounded like Caurok, who definitely should not be kept waiting--he ought to respond, so reluctantly Doog turned to see what all the fuss was about.

At which point he finally learned just how far from shore he'd gotten, and that he was continuing to drift even further, and quickly. Startled, he let out a small cry and flailed a bit as he tried to fully turn around, managing to dunk himself despite the lack of waves for his trouble. Only then has he had to pause to shake the water from his head still again did Doog finally actually catch some of what Caurok was shouting.

"Get out... away... the side...!"

It was still hard to make out all the words, especially as the older styracosaurus was now crashing through the waves himself to chase down the wayward youngster. But if he was telling Doog to get out, and go do the side, then maybe... Maybe he meant he should get out of the calm water?

That didn't sound like a very appealing idea to Doog, and indeed first he simply tried paddling where he was, directly back to shore. After all, surely it would be easier to swim through here than the regular waves, wouldn't it? But upon testing this theory by attempting to swim straight back to the beach, it quickly proved not to be the case, as instead he could barely hold his position against the current, let alone make any headway. At that rate, he'd never make it back. Which meant that, for better or worse, his only choice was to plunge right back into the waves he'd been so staunchly determined to avoid after all.

So, with great reluctance and a deep breath, Doog steeled himself and turned away from the deceptively calm current, then started paddling. Soon enough, he was back in the surf, and just as quickly stopped drifting away from the shore. In fact, if anything, the waves themselves were now pushing him back toward the beach, a welcome assist as he was now finding himself more than a little tired from the exertion and excitement. Slowly, he began paddling forward once again, eyeing the strip of calm water off to the side nearby even as he now took care to avoid crossing into it again. Caurok was still heading toward him with his own powerful, purposeful strokes, and upon reaching the stout juvenile simply followed behind him in silence as the youngster made his way back, keeping a watchful eye to make sure there were no further incidents. A silence that Doog recognized as a sign that he was almost certain to be in Big Trouble. As a result, the swim back to shore seemed to take ages, far longer than it should have, and it was with both relief and trepidation that Doog felt his feet finally touch the sandy bottom under the waves.

The scolding did indeed wait a bit, at least until after Doog's feet were firmly upon the ground, his wet coat leaving a trail of droplets across the dry sand safely away from the waves and the treacherous stretch of water both. Then and only then did he finally get an earful, being informed of something apparently called a "rip current" and the importance of avoiding them, as well as the proper thing to do should he get caught in one by accident anyway. Which, apparently, was not to just play around in it, nor tire himself out foolishly swimming against it. The juvenile did his best to listen, but he was tired, and it was even harder than usual to pay attention, a fact which earned him further ire from the worried Caurok. For that matter, Doog had the uncanny feeling he'd been warned about something like this before, the descriptions stirring a vague sense of familiarity, but if so, he'd clearly entirely forgotten it. At least he wouldn't be remotely likely to make the same mistake twice after this, even if the lesson learned had been less than fun.

Eventually, however, the lecture was finished, and the exhausted little styracosaurus sank onto the warm sand with a deep sigh. "Rip current..." he muttered the phrase to himself, determined to memorize it. Not that he strictly needed to, though, as after his misadventure today, well, suffice it to say not even Doog was likely to forget any of that anytime soon, whether he knew the word for it or not!

Further misadventures of Doog! The little guy just has a knack for getting into trouble...