ysabetwordsmith (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ysabetwordsmith) wrote2025-03-04 08:34 pm
ysabetwordsmith) wrote2025-03-04 08:34 pm
Poem: "Staring into the Dragon's Maw"
This is today's second freebie, thanks to new prompters crunchysteve and zesty_pinto. \o/ It was inspired by prompts from nsfwords and rix_scaedu. It also fills the "dragons" square in my 3-1-25 card for the Tolkien Bingo Fest. This poem belongs to A Conflagration of Dragons series.
"Staring into the Dragon's Maw"
After the gathering in the grasslands,
the situation rapidly grew worse.
All the heroes were dead, and so
were most of the leaders of any kind.
The refugees scavenged what they
could, but little remained to find.
Besides, soon they learned
not to pick up gold or gems,
for that just attracted dragons.
The foul beasts were everywhere,
and nowhere was safe anymore.
They flew through the skies like
flocks of evil geese, raining fewmets
the size of wine barrels and jewels
that nobody dared to touch any longer.
The dragons hogged all the resources
that they could find and steal, then
hungered for more, and raged
if they could not find any more.
They set fire to the fields and
forests, then played in the ashes.
They clawed open the cities and
slaughtered the people as they fled.
The dragons rutted in the skies
and on the ground, then made
nests to lay their noxious eggs.
They ate up the livestock and
shat in the ruined farms.
Even the wilderness
was no longer safe, and
all of the wildlife hid from
the hunters, large and small.
No gathering was free of risk,
so people learned to gather
only at need and in secret.
Still the dragons came, and
ate, and there were no more
heroes left to oppose them.
Staring into the dragon's maw,
one quickly learned wisdom: there
was no way to fight this thing.
The Conflagration had come.
The Six Peoples could do
nothing to stop it, clutched
in the claws of despair and
flattened by existential dread.
All they could do was hide
and hope not to be devoured.
* * *
Notes:
"Staring into the dragon's maw, one quickly learns wisdom."
-- Steven Brust
"The Gathering in the Grasslands" is the prequel to this poem.
fewmet (n.)
also fumet, "excrement, dung of a game animal" (especially a hart), early 15c., fumes, from Old French fumees; the modern ending apparently is a formation in Anglo-French, from fumer, from Latin fumare "to smoke, steam," from fumus "smoke, steam, fume" (from PIE root *dheu- (1) "dust, vapor, smoke"). Related: Fewmets.
also from early 15c.
With the decline in great landed estates and the hunting they offered, the word went into a decline, to become fashionable again in recent
decades with the rise in fantasy fiction and role-playing games. These days, the animal producing the fewmets is more usually a dragon:
He’s going to where my dragons were! Come on, Meg, maybe he’s found fewmets!” She hurried after boy and dog. “How would you know a dragon dropping? Fewmets probably look like bigger and better cow pies.”
A Wind in the Door, by Madeline L’Engle, 1973.
crunchysteve and zesty_pinto. \o/ It was inspired by prompts from nsfwords and rix_scaedu. It also fills the "dragons" square in my 3-1-25 card for the Tolkien Bingo Fest. This poem belongs to A Conflagration of Dragons series."Staring into the Dragon's Maw"
After the gathering in the grasslands,
the situation rapidly grew worse.
All the heroes were dead, and so
were most of the leaders of any kind.
The refugees scavenged what they
could, but little remained to find.
Besides, soon they learned
not to pick up gold or gems,
for that just attracted dragons.
The foul beasts were everywhere,
and nowhere was safe anymore.
They flew through the skies like
flocks of evil geese, raining fewmets
the size of wine barrels and jewels
that nobody dared to touch any longer.
The dragons hogged all the resources
that they could find and steal, then
hungered for more, and raged
if they could not find any more.
They set fire to the fields and
forests, then played in the ashes.
They clawed open the cities and
slaughtered the people as they fled.
The dragons rutted in the skies
and on the ground, then made
nests to lay their noxious eggs.
They ate up the livestock and
shat in the ruined farms.
Even the wilderness
was no longer safe, and
all of the wildlife hid from
the hunters, large and small.
No gathering was free of risk,
so people learned to gather
only at need and in secret.
Still the dragons came, and
ate, and there were no more
heroes left to oppose them.
Staring into the dragon's maw,
one quickly learned wisdom: there
was no way to fight this thing.
The Conflagration had come.
The Six Peoples could do
nothing to stop it, clutched
in the claws of despair and
flattened by existential dread.
All they could do was hide
and hope not to be devoured.
* * *
Notes:
"Staring into the dragon's maw, one quickly learns wisdom."
-- Steven Brust
"The Gathering in the Grasslands" is the prequel to this poem.
fewmet (n.)
also fumet, "excrement, dung of a game animal" (especially a hart), early 15c., fumes, from Old French fumees; the modern ending apparently is a formation in Anglo-French, from fumer, from Latin fumare "to smoke, steam," from fumus "smoke, steam, fume" (from PIE root *dheu- (1) "dust, vapor, smoke"). Related: Fewmets.
also from early 15c.
With the decline in great landed estates and the hunting they offered, the word went into a decline, to become fashionable again in recent
decades with the rise in fantasy fiction and role-playing games. These days, the animal producing the fewmets is more usually a dragon:
He’s going to where my dragons were! Come on, Meg, maybe he’s found fewmets!” She hurried after boy and dog. “How would you know a dragon dropping? Fewmets probably look like bigger and better cow pies.”
A Wind in the Door, by Madeline L’Engle, 1973.
Well ...
Re: Well ...
Re: Well ...
Also, I know that after every mass extinction, life has bounced back better and more complex. I mean if it weren't for the Great Farting Oxygen Event, we wouldn't be here! Also if an asteroid hadn't wiped out the epic dinosaur ecosystem, mammals wouldn't have gotten a chance to take over.
Which brings me to the really cool thing about living in a mass extinction: the opportunity to place bets and blessings. :D Ideally, I'd want to check which types of animals and plants have developed most recently but are lurking in shadows because all the main niches are full, but I haven't found an easy way to determine those. I am left to examine the news about what species are doing so well that they're expanding under current conditions.
First we have the ones benefiting from human environments -- the cockroaches, pigeons, coyotes, etc. The cockroaches are screwed in any cold environment as soon as the heat goes off, but I'd say they expanded their range, so not bad. Pigeons are just a kind of dove and, while they like cities a lot, don't require them to survive. Given their ability to burgeon and a big empty niche in North America, I do wonder if they might reiterate the passenger pigeon format. Coyotes are really onto something: they've been crossbreeding with domestic dogs and wolves to get what scientists are calling "canis soup." Bigger than desert coyotes, smaller than wolves, genetically diverse and fearless from dogs -- they are a force to be reckoned with. Especially because the genes from dogs equip them very well for climate change, because dogs easily change their size and coat type, making them highly adaptable.
Second we have the ones that benefit from the conditions of climate change. Watch the news for humans screaming about an "outbreak" of some organism. From a human perspective, many cases of thrivance are annoying. But from a biological perspective, those species are doing great. So then you check for scalability and sustainability. Most pests don't have much long-term potential, because they'll eat up their food source and then crash -- like bark beetles, once most of the trees are gone, they'll drop back to usual levels or maybe even go extinct. Watch for the species that don't have definite limits. For instance, jellyfish. Several species have experienced radical blooms because they like warm water. Furthermore, most aquatic life is struggling to cope with ocean warming, which means less competition. Some jellyfish have additional stunts, like de-aging or being able to choose between sexual or asexual reproduction. Put those factors together and we likely have a big winner.
Third we have the species that have part of a puzzle that could become really powerful, they just need to finish it. For example, carnivorous plants have discovered a way of surviving in very resource-poor environments. Also, very rare for plants, some of them can move fast to capture prey. Now all they need to figure out is how to travel using the mobility they already evolved for another purpose. Evolution tells us that creating a feature is the hard part, and after that, adapting it to different purposes is much easier. So I've chosen to bless carnivorous plants in hopes of them learning to crawl. Fish figured it out, it can be done. :D
Finally, let's go back to jellyfish for a minute. They're cnidarians. Also in this phylum are siphonophores, who look a lot alike but are colonial creatures whose bodies are actually made up of many zooids. Among the most spectacular is the Portuguese man o' war, which is among the species expanding range and numbers.
Now I'll draw on ulterior knowledge a bit. It's not rare for a planet to have some unified colonial organisms (things like a man o' war that seem to have one large body, rather than individual bodies like an ant colony) among the singletons, or large-bodied creatures that host tiny symbiotes. But it is very rare for colonials to dominate an ecosystem, because the singletons typically take over first. However. If something flattens the singleton ecosystem, AND there is one or more colonial species available to take over, then they can grab the brass ring. Once they have an open field ahead of them, colonials actually have a fabulous advantage in evolution because of how their zooids can develop different functions. That flip is so rare that I don't think I've ever been on a planet when it started. I have a general idea what to look for, but actually watching it happen is new and quite exciting. So I'm blessing jellyfish and siphonophores. Go, you mad little bastards, go!
These observations are among the things that make humans insist that I am not human, but 1) true and 2) in a mass extinction, I gotta take my hope and entertainment wherever I can.