07-03-2015, 01:54 PM
“Survival of the fittest, darling,” he shrugs, absentmindedly rubbing his little—err, giant squirrely mitts together. Heights aren’t usually his thing, but he wants that goddamn nut. A lot. A whole hell of a lot. He’d chew his own tail off for it, probably. Maybe. Whatever. Without further ado, the big (suddenly) blue squirrel begins making his way up the tree—albeit clumsily. The whole thing starts rocking back and forth, creaking and groaning, and he keeps right on climbing.
He’ll bring the fucking tree down if that’s what it takes.
The black squirrel scampers even further up through the boughs when he gets a little too close for comfort. Snorting, he pauses only long enough to listen to her try to make a point about her acorn being too small for him; that isn’t a problem, and (unfortunately for him) he chooses that moment to shrink himself back down to normal squirrel size to prove her wrong. And that’s when he gets hit with the biggest goddamn acorn he’s ever seen. Even hurtling towards the earth, he can’t help but hug it thought—it’s beautiful, it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever laid eyes on and right before he dies, he sheds a little tear of appreciation for it.
Kidding, but tears were shed nonetheless.
From the dust comes a great roar.
The scaly, furry beast rises up—acorn in hand—and proceeds to hit his chest with his free paw like an enraged gorilla. He’s at least sixty feet tall, with an armor-plated belly and shiny white spikes as white as his bucked teeth protruding from his fuzzy nose all the way to the back of his head. Two spikes jut out of the fur at the tip of his tail and throwing back his head, he breathes a jet of fire into the air.
Sneering, the mighty Squirrelzilla swings his thick tail at the puny little tree and its’ ant-sized occupant without as much as a second thought.
He’ll bring the fucking tree down if that’s what it takes.
The black squirrel scampers even further up through the boughs when he gets a little too close for comfort. Snorting, he pauses only long enough to listen to her try to make a point about her acorn being too small for him; that isn’t a problem, and (unfortunately for him) he chooses that moment to shrink himself back down to normal squirrel size to prove her wrong. And that’s when he gets hit with the biggest goddamn acorn he’s ever seen. Even hurtling towards the earth, he can’t help but hug it thought—it’s beautiful, it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever laid eyes on and right before he dies, he sheds a little tear of appreciation for it.
Kidding, but tears were shed nonetheless.
From the dust comes a great roar.
The scaly, furry beast rises up—acorn in hand—and proceeds to hit his chest with his free paw like an enraged gorilla. He’s at least sixty feet tall, with an armor-plated belly and shiny white spikes as white as his bucked teeth protruding from his fuzzy nose all the way to the back of his head. Two spikes jut out of the fur at the tip of his tail and throwing back his head, he breathes a jet of fire into the air.
Sneering, the mighty Squirrelzilla swings his thick tail at the puny little tree and its’ ant-sized occupant without as much as a second thought.
equus mutatio, immortality, disease manipulation, trait immunity