A few species profiles out of the many inhabitants of the oceans of Veteris.
The climate in this region is usually hot and dry, punctuated by sporadic torrential downpours. After such events, the ground flourishes with a dense interconnected web of growth taking advantage of the temporary hydration. Once all the water dissipates, the soil is left to crack in the heat of the day. During these times Ponderosus are on the move, searching for the last remaining vernal pools. They used the times of plenty to fill up on nutrients, but now during a drought they switch primarily to photosynthesis to meet their energy needs. The smaller, dish-faced Lanx are not so lucky. Embedded in the ground unable to move, they must simply go dormant if the rains do not arrive soon enough. For now they point their open frills at the sun and gather energy while they still can. A Stealthspring prowls the scene looking for unfortunate small creatures who may not be faring well in the heat. Their predominant walking style requires a different gait for front and back sets of legs, but if needed their whole body becomes a giant spring, allowing them to burst forward for great distances. In an environment where major features like the ponderosus can move, it can be difficult to navigate from day to day, so the stealthspring must be ready to take flight at any time, should danger come calling.
I haven't posted in a while, so I'll be adding some of the work I've been doing for the last couple years.
Life in the Low Forest
A relatively dry and sunny climate favors some types of forest over others. The tangled matrix of the fast-growing tube carpet forms the floor along the majority of this habitat. It grows so quickly that other species of photosynthetic creatures find it advantageous to be more mobile, lest they be crowded out and overtaken. The scarcity of water combined with the tendency towards mobility versus upward growth means this forest is relatively short in height - hence its name. There is a rich and varied food web here, with many organisms feeding on the tube carpet, keeping its ravenous growth in check. It also offers a complex labyrinth in which to hide from the many predators working tirelessly for their next meal.
As Above, So Below
Throughout most of the year, the nighttime skies of planet Veteris are illuminated by a vast, brilliant nebula. Tiny photosynthetic organisms multiply during the daylight hours, and after sunset the surface waters become a thick soup of predators ascending from the deep to feed on them. Any creature seen from below will be silhouetted against the glow of the sky above. To prevent becoming easy targets for predation, many blend in by producing their own light. In their swarming multitudes, these billions of incandescent swimmers create biological nebulae beneath the waves. Massive filter feeders like the ghostly white Niveus have no need for such camouflage. Their immense size and surprising speed are enough to keep them safe as they cruise these starry seas.
I've decided to start posting sketches more often, as they comprise over 90% of my artistic time. This is the Greater Parvasalia. It travels in large groups, is about the size of a hamster, and is generally non-aggressive. More details as they are developed.
Dawn breaks in the desert, revealing a scurrying frenzy of creatures returning to shelter after the night’s mischief. Tallest among them, the Cycloptic Night-Seeker surveys the scene looking for any last morsel of food before the day’s solar onslaught forces its retreat into shadow. The Testapallidus at its feet may prove an ideal treat, unless the sand-swimming Armored Loricatus captures it first. Though the Testapallidus’ hard dorsal shell protects it from most threats, the Night-Seeker possesses a keen intellect, curious disposition, and two formidable front appendages that are as dextrous as they are sharp. Usually too quick for the large hunter, a trio of gregarious Desert Sentinels are more concerned with ambush predators such as the Loricatus, and one inflates its signaling air sacs in alarm. Already, members of the desert’s daytime cast are making an appearance. Luteos have positioned themselves at the top of the ridge to greet the first slanted rays. Relying on photosynthesis for a large portion of their metabolism, they tilt their bodies to follow the sun throughout the day. In a short time, more heat-tolerant daylight denizens will take the stage and play out their part in the everyday drama of the high desert.
In some environments, it's hard to tell the difference between genders and species. Organisms share genetic material more easily on this planet, and that leads to some complicated taxonomy. In this case, we see a group of aquatic creatures acting as nurses for a seemingly endless field of eggs. But the network of underwater chambers in which they reside is in fact another living creature. By some categorizations, it would be considered the female of the species - it produces and to some extent nourishes the field of eggs, some of which mature to be gigantic network-chambers themselves. Whether this is an extreme example of sexual dimorphism, or the result of some sort of horizontal gene transfer is a matter of conjecture at this point.
Part of a color study for the next painting I plan to start this week.
A new competitor has entered the misty valley. Attracted by ample food supply, the hopeful newcomer will have to contend with the reigning resident of this territory. In times of scarcity, populations begrudgingly coexist in shrinking pockets of such favorable habitat, but rain and sun have been plentiful lately, so a battle seems imminent.