The Found Book of Losst
For Inktober 2020, I decided to use Furry Little Peach’s "Peachtober" prompt list.
I challenged myself to interpret each word as a kind of monster and created an illustration + microfiction every day. Over the month I built the lore of this mysterious world - a strange place, but one full of unexpected similarities to our own.
“The Found Book of Losst” is set to be my second book to be released November 2021.
In the meantime, feel free to read the contents from the original posts below!
Day 1: Home
The Honeynecked Antinako is a shy, tree-dwelling monster that never strays too far from home. Usually constructed only of a few planks balanced in a rustic A-frame roof, its lofty abode resembles a treehouse from afar.
As such, small children often mistake its tail for a rope ladder to a treehouse and try to climb it. The Honeynecked Antinako hates this, and lives in eternal fear of having its personal space invaded.
Day 2: Raccoon
Not your average trash panda – this one’s a FLAMING trash panda! Although more often referred to by that colloquial moniker, this heated beast’s proper name is the Infernal Rukulash.
Just like their common cousins, the Rukulash is a raccoon-like monster responsible for dastardly shenanigans in the night. To enable its mischief, it has a unique ability to break through the metaphysical barriers of the world to find its way into your possessions.
That jar of peanut butter that’s unexpectedly empty? It wasn’t you snacking in the middle of the night – it was the Rukulash!
Have your internal organs gone missing only to be found, half-chewed, in a trail leading away from your front door? Looks like the Rukulash paid a visit!
Or what about the state of chaos your home always seems to be in? Rest assured, it’s not your failed adulting, it’s absolutely the fault of the Rukulash.
These tricksters like to play with your head a little, so next time your life feels like a flaming trash pile, remember to go easy on yourself and blame the Rukulash.
Day 3: Bridge
If you’ve ever heard an ethereal and melancholy song just before sunset, you might have been lucky enough to catch the call of the Crooning Crickfin.
So named for its melodious song, the Crickfin is said to have once been a fish that always dreamed of a life on land. Such was its FOMO that it one day sought out a witch who it would often see washing her cauldrons in the river.
It begged her to grant it the power to live on land. The witch listened thoughtfully, and told the fish that its demands were so saturated with pathos that she would indeed fulfill the request. The fish should have realized, however, that a witch never does anything for free – but a Rukulash is more than happy to.
The witch’s form suddenly tore apart to reveal the Infernal Rukulash. Before the shocked fish could do anything but sputter bubbles, the trickster cast its chaos magic. The fish began to choke on the water in its gills and had to propel itself onto the shore just to breathe again. There it grew larger and became deformed.
When the magic receded, the fish was horrified to discover that its fins remained and had not been replaced by arms and legs. Instead of being able to walk, it had been cursed to flop like a fish out of water for eternity. After all, it had asked to live on land – and the Rukulash had given it no more and no less than that.
The Crooning Crickfin can now be found living under bridges because it means it doesn’t have to travel far from the riverbank. Their song is said to be an expression of longing for their watery homeland that they can now never return to.
Day 4: Fish
No fisherman wants to see the shadow of the Hindering Blubmonk beneath their boat. This isn’t so much out of fear, however, as it is annoyance. Despite the intimidating size of the Blubmonk, it has never been known to attack a living being (outside of fisherman’s tales that is).
The Blubmonk feeds off algae and sea roots that it sifts out of silty ocean beds and generally will not venture far from home. In fact, the only time it will leave the seabed is to protect its territory and the inhabitants that live within it. Since most threats come from fishermen looking to liberate the waters of seafood-in-the-making, it’s most commonly seen lurking beneath their boats acting as a guardian to its fellow fish.
On these days, nets go empty and lines stay limp, which is the origin of the saying “I can’t seem to shake this shadow of a Blubmonk”.
Day 5: Sword
Arkell Dredd had been ecstatic to find such a roomy cave for sale, but he had known that with a mortgage so low, there had to be a catch. Still, with the housing market in the state that it was, he couldn’t afford to let this one go.
It was a mere week after moving in that the catch became apparent. It seemed that his cozy cave was a famous pilgrimage point for young heroes to test their merit by slaying its inhabitants.
Now, Arkell Dredd is just your typical Rexxar monster – grumpy and prone to fits of sulking – but never one to seek out conflict.
The first time a hero arrived at his cave, Arkell Dredd tried reasoning with her. She soon slashed his reasons to ribbons with her sword, and with them his patience. Rexxar monsters of course have immunity to all mortal wounds as well as the strength to kill when their life is at stake – or when they’re very thoroughly annoyed – so the young hero didn’t stand a chance.
Hero after hero arrived, but none left alive. Unfortunately for Arkell Dredd, this simply escalated him to a status more famous than his cave: “The Unslayable Beast”, they called him.
By the end of his first year in his new home, he had slain no fewer than 237 heroes – but his true battle, it turned out, was against the headaches this constant nuisance caused.
So, if you’re in the market for a new cave, consider that Arkell Dredd is looking to let go of his for cheap. Just make sure to invest in some bulk-sized Advil before you sign the contract though.
Day 6: Wood
The Liminal Wood is one of the most powerful places in the land – and also one of the most mysterious. According to lore, it is the original birthplace of all monsters.
No one knows where it is exactly, but everyone seems to know what it looks like. There is no summer or winter there; the energy that allows for birth, death, and rebirth causes the Liminal Wood to exist in an eternal state of fluctuation between spring and autumn. As the leaves grow, their life force is immediately leeched into a monster spawn, and they turn from bright green into a swift orange.
It is said that some creatures with extraordinarily long lives, like the Puslynches, Keekrohms, and Rexxars, occasionally return to the Liminal Wood when they feel their death is finally nigh. No one knows what happens to them exactly, since they are never seen again, but we can speculate that their bodies are reabsorbed into the living womb to give power to new monsters.
Day 7: Bugs
The Florid Voompa is a monster famous for its devotion to its young. It is affectionate and supportive, yet stern in its expectations.
Though it will often have broods of several thousand young at a time, the Florid Voompa will accept no less than a university-level education for each and every one of them. Needless to say, it creates fierce sibling rivalry.
And that’s not the only place that competition exists. Most schools – public, private, and extracurricular tutoring – become flooded with Voompa offspring. This is the reason most other monsters attempt to have their own children outside of Voompa birthing seasons, which occur about once every 65 years.
Day 8: Prize
While claw game machines are popular throughout the land, there is none more keen to play than the Suckered Spreekzuni monsters.
No one is quite sure why claw machines appeal to Spreekzunis so much. Some speculate it is because they have no fingers, and the articulated digits of the claw satisfy that absence.
Darker tales suggest that they sell their eggs as prizes to these machines and try to play the games to win them back.
Whatever the reason, the moniker “Suckered” is now colloquially understood to refer to their tendency to be drawn in by shiny gambling rather than to the suckers on their tentacles.
Day 9: Rainbow
The Bowed Rainleg is a gentle monster fond of the quiet countryside. It enjoys the smell of fresh rain on the field and is most commonly spotted during its post-storm strolls through the hills.
Though of enormous size, it is always careful to keep several of its eyes on the ground. When it spots a smaller monster, it won’t change its course, but will rather gracefully arch its body above them and their abode so as not to crush it.
It is always considered good luck to cross paths with a Bowed Rainleg. Any scales that these colourful monsters drop are fashioned into clothing, decorations, or jewelry, and witches will even use them as parts of prosperity rituals.
Farmers, on the other hand, wish not for their scales, but for their droppings. So renowned are they for being potent fertilizers that they have been nicknamed “pots of gold”.
Day 10: Pet
Amphibious in nature, the Chirping Monobobbit is widely dispersed throughout both land and water. It uses its tail for propelling itself through shallow rivers and its distinctive monopedal foot to hop on the land, the latter of which is done with considerable lack of grace.
It isn’t particularly intelligent, but it is good natured and very affectionate, especially when tamed. For this reason, the Monobobbit is a popular first pet amongst young monsters.
It is less popular among parents, however, since the Monobobbit does have one significant flaw: being predisposed to micturating on walls, furniture, and shoes. Seeing as its urine stinks of sour fish and raw onion batter, parents look for the first opportunity to release these cheerful beasts back to the wild from whence they came.
Day 11: Egg
The Agitated Fosterbelly is a bird-like monster often hired by other monsters to act as a hatching aid. Their fire-imbued feathers create a nice, toasty cover for the eggs of any busy expecting parents.
The trouble is, certain monsters hire them for more than just the incubation period. Known for their tasty drumsticks, the Fosterbelly sometimes gets munched as a newborn’s first meal.
Advances in the Fosterbelly Worker’s Aid Party (F.W.A.P.) have made it much safer in the last decade for these birds to fulfill their contracts, but there are still some monsters that sneak in carnivorous eggs. Most notorious among these are the Pallid Puslynches, whose tentacled young emerge from eggs that look much like those of the harmless Honeynecked Antinako.
It is the Fosterbelly’s rightfully mistrustful and nervous demeanor that has earned it the moniker of “Agitated”.
Day 12: Foam
The Fangy Gatimook is a cross-eyed, warty, be-bunioned creature that would inspire pathos if not for its insatiable appetite for meat. It doesn’t much care where the meat comes from – as long as it’s alive when it first sinks its teeth into it.
While this might sound terrifying, monsters fear the fate of being eaten alive by the Gatimook less than they dread the eternal shame that comes from having fallen prey to such a base beast.
For all their nasty appearances and odours, however, Gatimooks have the peculiar habit of taking great pride in their dental health. In fact, their god is always depicted with a bright white smile, toothbrush in one hand and pliers in the other.
No one is certain whether the mythology came first and frightened Gatimooks into polishing up their pearly whites or whether the mythology was crafted out of pre-established cultural values. Whatever the case, you won’t want to get near enough to ask or the last thing you’ll experience is a vaguely minty death.
Day 13: Horn
The Pedantic Bilkhorn is known for its scholarly pursuits and taciturn nature. Imbued with incredibly accurate memories, Bilkhorns are often drawn to positions in the community that allow them to teach, document, and otherwise act as custodians of knowledge.
There is, of course, the stereotype that Bilkhorns are quite nitpicky. Myth has it that when all life was still coming forth from its primordial soup, the Bilkhorn argued with their god that the amniotic ocean they were in wasn’t like a soup in texture at all, but was more of a stew-like consistency.
Their god was so annoyed by the debate that they eventually dispelled the Bilkhorn out onto dry land. As a humbling reminder, they gave the Bilkhorn a disproportionately big head so that its pompousness would be recognized by all other monsters.
Of course, to that rebuke, the Pedantic Bilkhorn argued that their god hadn’t given them a disproportionately big head at all, simply a disproportionately big horn.
Day 14: Storm
There are many things to fear in this world, but perhaps none so worthy of that emotion as the Thundering Skwallblast.
Not much is known about the inner workings of this gargantuan monster, though everyone is familiar with the effects of its path – namely the trail of utter destruction left in its wake.
Some say that it is an evil spirit that eats the souls of every living thing underfoot, growing stronger with every harvest. Others say that it transcends morality and simply *is*, as oblivious to its affects as most monsters would be of stepping on freshly hatched Florid Voompas.
The Keekrohms, on the other hand, revere the Skwallblast. They consider it to be something of a divinity fallen to a mortal plane. In their cosmology, they believe that it knows not the destruction it causes around it, for it has never existed outside the prison of its own chaos. For that reason, they feel pity for its lonely existence, and pray that one day it can escape its stormy torment to experience true tranquility.
In honour of all those who lose themselves in their own dark clouds, Keekrohms always leave an empty chair at their dinner tables in case they find their way home and want some company.
Day 15: Core
The Naked Keekrohm is one of the oldest and most peculiar of monsters. This is not only because it is one of the only monsters to be nearly furless, thereby prompting its unusual adoption of clothing. No, most distinct about it is its lack of a core and all the vital organs therein.
No one is certain how it is able to remain alive given this remarkable fact, but none are more curious about uncovering the answer than the Keekrohms themselves. Their pursuit for cosmic answers is unwavering, resulting in one of the most complex cosmologies of all monsters.
The tale of their genesis leads back to the earliest days of the world, when the sky was slitted black save for a tiny crack of orange light. The Keekrohms squeezed in through that crack and found this land in its early dawn. No other life, just empty earth.
For a while, they thrived on this blank canvas, raising children and yarning tales, presuming that at some point, more monsters would join them. They waited a thousand years and still none came. At first it was just a few that began to wonder why they were here when no one else was, and then everyone did.
Eventually the barren world began to seep into them. As if their feelings became manifest, soon every Keekrohm had a giant hole in the middle of their torso.
Despite the torment of this emptiness, however, they did not die. For eons, they questioned this empty existence, exploring answers through philosophy and art, but never coming to a satisfying conclusion.
By the time other monsters finally did arrive through the crack in the sky, the Keekrohms had already established a sophisticated society. Unfortunately, it was built on a foundation of perplexing but lasting loneliness, and many Keekrohms to this day feel that same ache of their ancestors.
Day 16: Stripes
Clipper often felt frustrated growing up. The only Coiled Quasak in their school, they would look at other monsters and wish that they too had the dexterous limbs, psychedelic fur, and good grades that came so naturally to their peers. Clipper longed to find that elusive something that made them special.
One day in art class, they knocked over some paint as they clumsily slithered by. It spilled over them, turning their monochrome scales into a work of art. They were instantly mesmerized by the effect.
After that, they began to paint themselves deliberately. Stripes & stars, plaid & paisley: there was no pattern or design they didn’t explore.
Other monsters began to notice and wanted to join in too, but lamented their own bright fur and knobbly bodies that made it harder for them to achieve the same effects. “The colours won’t be as nice as they are on you!” they would tell Clipper.
But Clipper shook their head. “You can make yourself anything you want to be,” they said to the monsters. “Our canvases are all different, and that means the paint will look different too, but that’s the thing that makes us special.”
Day 17: Lilypad
The Sweet-Tailed Menass is an aquatic monster known for its skill at constructing clockwork instruments, its keen appreciation for vintage wines, and its tendency to prey on small amphibious creatures.
It gained its name through the way it baits creatures by floating its tail on the surface of still ponds like a lily pad. Using a combination of ticking timepieces and hypnotic humming, it lures its victim to the epicenter of sound, and then SNAP! The tail closes and drags the doomed beast below.
Given the way in which it entraps its meals, there has been some debate about the physiology of the Menass. A few years ago, a seemingly silly rumor began to circulate on monster media that proposed the Menass consumed its meals using its rear end – and that all other digestive functions happened in reverse order as well.
Many flout this gossip, but it has led to some heated debates. It is not helped by the fact that the Menass, too proud to acknowledge probing into its biology, has remained tight-gilled about it all. Though you might be curious, it is not recommended that you ask the Menass, as they are very sensitive about the topic – and they do have very sharp (and possibly dirty) teeth.
Day 18: Warm
The Blubbery Butterbean is a maritime monster that occupies the coldest regions of the land.
Despite the freezing conditions of its environment, it is often associated with warmth. Always looking for creative new ways to stay cozy, Butterbeans are renowned for their knitwear, homestyle stews, and particular affinity for hot cocoa with eyemallow balls.
Of all those things, however, nothing is warmer than Butterbean hospitality. Perhaps this is because they are innately kindhearted or perhaps it’s for the reason that other monsters rarely venture to these icy territories.
Regardless, you will never find yourself wanting if you do choose to visit a Butterbean. Just be prepared to bring an extra suitcase to stuff all the quilts, tuques, and jars of eyemallow balls they’ll insist you take upon departure.
Day 19: Cool
The Perfervid Furok is an impish monster infamous for losing its cool. There are many things that can trigger its outbursts: traffic jams, social injustice, the Pedantic Bilkhorn…the list goes on.
No matter the cause, however, the result is usually the same. From its knobbly head bursts a raging explosion of flames that engulfs it and all things unlucky enough to be within a fifty-foot radius.
In the past, other monsters tended to become quite nervous when a Furok moved into their neighbourhood, which escalated into one historically notorious instance. When Peq the Furok moved into the town of Eraa, the other residents went as far as to petition for Furoks to be banned. When their petition was rejected, they tried to run Peq out of town themselves. This resulted in the town going up in a fiery explosion, requiring all the other monsters to run for their lives with singed eyebrows and tentacles.
As Peq sat seething in the middle of the flaming town, however, a shadow suddenly fell upon him. He looked up and saw a Bowed Rainleg that had just come from a walk in the rain. It shook the droplets from its enormous body, dousing the fires until only smoke and sizzling embers remained.
This angered Peq and he burst into flames again. Again, wordless, the Rainleg doused everything. It continued until Peq’s flames grew weaker and smaller until they were naught but tiny sparks.
He looked up at the Rainleg, expecting to feel anger not feeling angry, but it had literally burned it all out of him. The Rainleg shrugged and continued walking.
Since then, Peq has used this lifechanging experience to set up an anger management center that focuses on creating a safe space for other Furoks to express themselves.
Day 20: Pie
The Trapdoor Pieder is a sociable monster, but has difficulty making friends. Some chalk this up to its uninviting fangs, others to its peculiar choice to use Chirping Monobobbit musk as perfume, and still others to the simple fact that it “comes on quite strong”.
It’s quite common to see Pieders at parties hanging around the bloodpunch bowl, waiting to entrap their next victims in tedious and unending monologue. These rarely are volleyed from the Pieder’s verbal court as they spin yarns about their air-conditioning installations, how much cereal they eat for breakfast, and the time they invested their money in shower curtain rings.
While Pieders are quite well-meaning, the tendency for other monsters to avoid them leaves many more desperate for socialization than ever. Although it exists in the realm of urban legend, it is said that some might even attempt to attract guests for dinner by propping open traps baited with fresh pie.
The best plan of attack if you find yourself caught in a conversational web is to pretend you’re getting a phone call, go outside, catch a taxi to the airport, buy a plane ticket, and start a new life.
Day 21: Shadow
Deep in the deserts of this world marches the Elcanean Drift. Cousin to the Thundering Skwallblast, it is equally enigmatic and ancient.
Though it itself is reported to be rather detached from anything living in this earthly plane, its presence has allowed for a rather unique ecosystem to develop. The Qilardis, a tribe of monster nomads, has used the shadow of the Drift to protect themselves from the blasts of heat and UV radiation that bleach the rest of their environment.
Keeping pace, their caravan follows their colossal, wandering leader, never knowing quite where they’re going. Together, they roam the dunes at a perpetually steady beat, only resting upon the simultaneous set of the triplet suns once every fourteen rotations.
Even during this brief night though, the Drift does not sleep. Instead, it sits, arms around its knees, and hums. The nomads aren’t sure why it does this, but tell stories to their children as they fall asleep to its eerie song murmuring across the sand.
The children are often curious about the Drift. “Does it know we’re there? Does it want us to follow it?” they ask. “It gives us shade, but what do we give it back?”
“There is no answer,” the parents say. “We think it just wants what we all want – a walking partner for the long days ahead and someone to share their song with during the respite of the night”.
Day 22: Rain
The Wobbling Klopsis is a relentlessly cheerful monster. It is also unique in that it is semi-amphibious. What this means is that it can live on land – but only during heavy rain.
Many are confused by this limitation, wondering if, like the Crooning Crickfin, it was cursed to live a half-life on land by some trickster like the Rukulash. The Klopsis, however, does not see this quirk as a limitation. Rather, it considers itself lucky to be able to go on land at all, even if only during certain conditions.
There are some who think that the Klopsis arrived on this world far later than most other monsters. Evidence for this is scattered and unreliable at best, existing only in stories gathered from elderly Klopses drifting into memory.
And yet, if the whispers are to be believed, it is said that they come from a world that was dying. The rivers and seas of this land were full of toxic waste and smelled of decay, the sick earth belching fumes that choked the skies. The Klopses built city-sized networks of domes filled with pure water to live inside, but never set tentacle beyond the glass.
Rumours do not reach a consensus about whether this Klopsian world met its penultimate demise or whether its monsters abandoned it before that inevitably gruesome end. Whatever the truth, it would certainly explain why the Wobbling Klopsis is known for appreciating the small things in life, such as standing in the rain for brief ventures onto the shore.
Day 23:
Inhabiting the sludge of thick bogs, it’s quite easy to miss the Effulgent Quillcaps during the day as they resemble simple mushrooms. When the night is at its deepest ink, however, you might be lucky enough to catch a glimpse of them at their full glory.
Rising from the swampy shores, their root-like tentacles twirl against each other, sounding like deep chimes. Once this hypnotic hum is resonating within everything in the bog, then they begin to glow, brightening the night with their eerie yet soothing bioluminescence.
It’s quite rare to see these shy little monsters. Not only do they live in fairly remote territories, but they are also prized for their alchemical qualities by witches and other runecrafters. Only the most skilled at magic are able to extract their light, but if it is consumed, it is said to give the recipient lifelong happiness.
Unfortunately, the high demand for this boon has meant that Quillcap numbers have dwindled in the last few decades. It is uncertain whether this is only due to over-poaching, or if the Quillcaps themselves have something to do with it.
Arkell Dredd, now retired to hermitude on the edge of a once-abundantly populated bog, has reported the spectacle of them migrating through the hole in the sky. If true, then this is the first augury marking the beginning of the exodus of this world.
Day 24: Carton
The Frifi Voliks are monsters that live for sensory indulgences. Aromatherapy, extreme sports, liquified nutrients, week-long parties – anything that makes them alive.
They are also known for their proclivity towards self-expression. While most monsters are inclined to pamper themselves and polish the blood out of their scales every once in a while, the Voliks are obsessed with cleanliness and fashion. The more eccentric, the better. This exploration of identity has resulted in them having the widest variation in appearance of all monsters.
That said, they do all share one distinctive feature: their proboscis. Curled in a neat spiral beneath their chin when out of use, it will extend to consume whatever gastronomic delights are in front of them. Of course, nothing delights a Frifri Volik more than a carton of Nectar Blaze.
Nectar Blaze is an energy drink that appeared on the Monster Market only a few years ago, but it took the Frifri Volik culture by storm. Brightly packaged with ambiguous ingredients, it fit right in with fuelling their decadent lifestyles.
Since then, there has been debate about the effects of this juice. More conservative and intellectual monsters, like the Pedantic Bilkhorn and the Sweet-Tailed Menass, have been loud about their suspicions that it is highly addictive and possibly radioactive.
These debates haven’t affected sales of Nectar Blaze at all, but they have increased in credibility as the Voliks seem to mutate rapidly, their appearances changing far beyond what seems possible within the realm of simple stylistic choice.
That said, perhaps random transformations are exactly the element of chaos the Frifri Voliks are looking for in their search for ultimate individuality.
Day 25: Burn
While any monster can learn magic, the Zatuj Charskins are the most predisposed to becoming witches. For this reason, they are viewed as both terrifying and awe-inspiring.
One of the rituals that they often perform is regular communion with their god, Threlunozh. In order to do so, they must paint themselves with white ash, sit inside a ring of volcanic stones, and light themselves on fire. The blaze disrupts the veil between life and death and the tongues of flame give voice to Threlunozh so that she can whisper secrets and council.
Despite the dramatic spectacle this ritual creates, witch burning (as the act is called) does not actually harm the Charskins. On the contrary, they quite enjoy it. Running naturally cold, a Charskin looks forward to self-immolation as a way of warming up.
Though other monsters assume that the reason Zatuj Charskins are better witches than most is because of great innate power, the truth is much simpler. When asked what their secret is, a Charskin will respond: “My hands are always cold except when I’m communing with Threlunozh”.
Day 26: Hat
Cousin to the Rukulash, the Treasonous Trite is a tricksy monster that shapeshifts in order to ensnare unsuspecting victims. No one is actually sure what it looks like in its natural form because of this tactic, but it has been known to favour closets, stoves, and hats.
Once established in its state of camouflage, it will wait until a monster comes near. When the moment is right – aka when a monster reaches into a closet, opens a stove door, or puts on a hat – it will morph into a giant mouth. Razor teeth clamp around the head and shoulders of its prey and then, when the screams reach their crescendo, it swallows them whole.
An easy way to tell whether an object is a Treasonous Trite is to remain vigilant about objects that look unfamiliar. If you notice something suspicious, stay very still and listen. Should you hear a gurgling stomach that isn’t your own, then it’s very possible you’re about to be what satiates the rumble.
Day 27: Orchard
The Gumgilled Harvester is the reason many monsters have a fear of deep water.
Inhabiting lake bottoms, seas, and lagoons, the Harvester is known to grab at the kicking feet, claws, and tentacles of monsters out for some leisure time among the waves. With a deadlock grip, it drags its victims all the way to the bottom where it ties them to chains until they drown.
Although this might seem horrific, the Harvester is simply performing the same farming duty that every Harvester has done for generations. They consider their prey to be akin to “seedlings” that they plant until their flesh becomes ripe (i.e. mushy) enough for them to consume with their toothless mandibles.
These monstrous orchards, though objectively grisly, are a scene of sustenance and abundance to the Harvester. They are shared throughout the community, and parents often bring their guppies on harvest excursions to teach their young about this agricultural practice.
From a young age, every Harvester is taught that all beings are equal. Therefore, as biological carnivores, no living thing is more or less appropriate to eat than another. It would be immoral to spare some monsters as meat while favouring another. Spreading their nets wider means doing less damage to any one particular ecosystem.
This philosophy has been thoroughly explored by the Naked Keekrohm to the extent that it is now possible to take a minor in Gumgilled Harvester culture studies at their most distinguished university. Still, academic interest aside, you might want to avoid swimming in areas where communes are known to exist.
Day 28: Bloom
Every monster has their own unique value that they bring to this world – but in the case of the Lumbering Gooberbloom, it’s yet to be discovered.
Crawling around on an uncoordinated sprawl of legs, it spends its days trying to suck Nuggerflies from the air. Shockingly, it does so with quite a measure of success due to the single evolutionary advantage it was bestowed: a syrup-scented blossom attached to an antennacle (a tentacle that functions like an antenna). It uses this bloom to bait insects who then tumble inside its slimy mouth tube.
One of the most peculiar things about the Gooberbloom is that it is both plant and insect. How this is possible no one really likes to think about. Monster parents often use it as a threat, however, warning their children that if they eat too much of something, they will turn into it.
It is therefore ironic that the Gooberbloom is popular as a pet amongst the more offbeat families. Relatively easy to care for and more or less independent as long as there’s a swarm of Nuggerflies around, they can indeed become quite endearing with their clumsy and absurd existence.
Fair warning, however, that you do NOT want to have both Lumbering Gooberblooms and Chirping Monobobbits as a part of the same household. Sparing the gorier of details, let’s just say that they both enjoy mindlessly playing with their food.
Day 29: Fossil
Palaeontology is a relatively new field of study among monsters, but one that is gaining in popularity. It began after a young Agitated Fosterbelly discovered a peculiar fossil that couldn’t be linked to any living being.
Its skeleton was made of metal except for the tail bone, which appears to have been made of a spongier material. Given the rigidity of the bones, the creature may have required this cushioning when sitting down so as not to damage its spine.
If that wasn’t strange enough, it also appears to have had wheel-like feet with 360-degree flexibility on the wrists. Scientists speculate that it would have needed such dexterity to stay balanced because of its curious bipedal arrangement, which was along a narrow horizontal axis.
The Fosterbelly named it Metalsaurus, and scientists now refer to the period it comes from as the Metalcene.
Since the initial discovery, numerous other metal-boned beast fossils have been unearthed – including a few dozen from the Metalsaurus. Unfortunately, all are incomplete and none of them have included the skull. Such sparse evidence means that we have a limited understanding of this strange and long-forgotten past.
To compensate for the missing information, palaeontologists and artists have teamed up to recreate what these creatures might have looked like. Such imaginings have led to inspired hypotheses like the possibility that Metalsaurus had a ridge of feathers on its back.
If you would like an educational outing, make sure to visit the Keekrohm University Museum. In addition to being home to the best-preserved Metalsaurus skeleton, it also holds the largest collection of Metalcene relics in any one location. It truly offers a unique glimpse into our prehistoric world.
Day 30: Balloon
The Flightless Nubfoot is a vagabond monster that lives in large ground flocks roaming city streets. They are most commonly seen rummaging through bins and trash cans looking for bits of bread (their favourite food) and fighting other Nubfoots for prime stakeout spots behind bakeries.
While the Nubfoot is covered in an oily sheen of feathers, it is flightless. Many Nubfoots are quite embarrassed about this fact and so will come up with creative ways to flout this evolutionary snub. It has been known to tie helium balloons to its limbs, do running leaps while trying to forget that gravity exists, and even jump from high cliffs in hopes of missing the ground.
Unfortunately, these creative techniques often end in tragic accidents thus resulting in high mortality rates among these monsters. Perhaps for this reason it is also one of the monsters with the highest birth rates, second only to the Florid Voompas. Its brood nests may have upwards of fifty hatchlings in a single season.
Luckily for the educational system, Nubfoot parents aren’t as keen on schooling as Voompas –though perhaps if they were, it would encourage them to look for more sustainable means of flight.
Day 31: Moon
As the monsters of this world crawled in through a hole in the sky, so shall they leave by one.
This second hole wasn’t visible from the beginning, but has been slowly fading into sight over the ages. Now it is hard to imagine the night sky without it, shining like a great, bright moon. Some say that at its zenith, you’ll be able to see it during the day as well, dimming the sun before shrinking back into oblivion.
All monsters know that one day they will pass through the hole but have no idea when that will be or how they’ll know it’s time. Certain auguries and portents were prophesized through the millennia, but the first that is believed to have transpired is the disappearance of the Effulgent Quillcap.
Most monsters are at peace with this knowledge, telling stories of the destined journey to their young, but the Insatiable Xankran vehemently denies this fate. They wander around in their walking houseboats, alternating between denouncing the prophecies and trying to forget they exist in the solace of hermitage.
Others look upon this reaction with sadness and pity, for they understand what the Xankran does not: that all things must end, and that it is lonelier to be the stubborn last than it is to let go. But stubbornness is what the Xankran does best.
And so, we can imagine this distant future: a lone houseboat tiptoeing through the bogs of drying lakes; the luminous eyes of the last Xankran watching the horizon for hopeful company; and the hole in the sky shrinking to close the door forever.