Traipsing through the marshy lowlands of Western Altamira's south, one may come across an unusual member of the pentapoda, colloquially known as the Crone's Mantle.
This shallow-water specialist, standing 7 feet tall at the peak, spends the warm months similarly to most large pentapods, feeding on water plants and drawing much of its energy from the sun. Come the shorter days of the cold season, however, the Mantle seeks a different source of energy.
Conserving what limited energy it can draw from sunlight during the short days, the Mantle roots itself in place along shallow stretches of rivers and streams. Its unusual downturned sails create shade that attract small squilloids, which, upon sensing the movement with its bristly legs, are snatched out of the water with its anterior appendage and flung into the Mantle's ventral mouth.
The Mantle shares its home with a variety of semiaquatic rasps, wading terrestrial squilloids and - most notably - predatory grapplers. The slow-moving Mantle defends itself with loud trumpeting from two respiratory organs atop its conical back, and if that's not enough, its ventral sails secrete a foul-tasting oil that deters most predators.
The trickster speaks in dead voices. Perhaps the old man knows it's a lie. Perhaps he can't bear to let her memory die with the rest of the world.
Villains (or at least one of them is) for a concept thesis film I've been playing with about an egg that hatches after the K-Pg extinction. An old, blind Quetzalcoatlus lured in and commanded by an opportunistic Troodon that uses mimicry to speak in the voice of the old man's dead mate.
Unable to let go of his grief, he acts as a weapon for his companion in exchange for their sight and hearing her voice again.
The genus Silurian ("Person of the Silures", in reference to the historical territory of Wales in which they were first found) was initially known only from a single fossil, notable in part for the unusual object fossilized alongside it (1). Though this was generally accepted to simply be a large petrified stick, the "Silurian Artifact" was often a point of discussion in the topic of dinosaur intelligence and the theory of pre-human civilizations. It wasn't until large-scale mining operations began to impede on their extensive networks of stasis chambers that the Silurians themselves finally woke up and were able to meet humankind in person. To the surprise of many (and dismay of a few) the Silurians were not the scaled, humanoid "dinosauroids" so often depicted, but colorful, feathered, and relatively goose-shaped.
Most Silurians who were present in the planet's underground represent the gentry and high ranking military, who were given priority in the earth-based shelters. Most others were evacuated on large, extensive spaceships, all of which are yet to return to Earth. Due to this, the varied mindsets and cultures of the Silurians are in shambles at best, largely replaced by the speciesism and real estate concerns of the upper classes.
(1) Much later, the original type fossil was identified as Rohlik, a student who fell to his death after attempting to drunkenly pole vault over a ravine with a large petrified stick.
"for their people were (and most still are) dependent on a rare, shaggy, giant centipede herdbeast that can live only at high altitudes on alpine and sub-alpine forage."