05-24-2021, 04:07 PM
When the spring rolls in, with it comes an ancient creature.
It sleeps below the surface of a mound of freshly turned earth, sinking tendrils of its dripping roots past rock and fossil alike. Buried, but for a mane of dark, oval leaves that sprout up from that same mound and spread themselves wide for the love of their sun god and photosynthesis alike. It grumbles in its slumber, black earth bubbling on the mounds surface where its nose would be, one foot below, as though a team of ants are carving out a home that they will cherish for eons to come.
Those who would disturb it will learn the true meaning of regret.
It sleeps below the surface of a mound of freshly turned earth, sinking tendrils of its dripping roots past rock and fossil alike. Buried, but for a mane of dark, oval leaves that sprout up from that same mound and spread themselves wide for the love of their sun god and photosynthesis alike. It grumbles in its slumber, black earth bubbling on the mounds surface where its nose would be, one foot below, as though a team of ants are carving out a home that they will cherish for eons to come.
Those who would disturb it will learn the true meaning of regret.