Keeley found this in the woods just outside of Revery (whilst she was on a routine trip to tag some migratory nightshade plants) and…well, we have no idea what it is.
If it’s a newly discovered entity, that would unfortunately mean she gets to name it- and she’s planning to go with ‘Flufferous Pufferous’, which is a terrible idea and must be stopped.
So I, Jesper Beattie, beseech you: do you recognise this creature? It seems to be young, and unable to fly much yet- we’re searching for a nest it might have fallen from.
Also known as the ‘weasel dragon’ (though it has no link to the dragon species, this name probably due to the similarity of some features to that of Asian lung dragons), this creature roams some of the coldest climes of the northern hemisphere, with particularly high populations in northern Russia, Iceland and Greenland.
In other places, however, the weasel dragon is kept as a pet.
It is effective at keeping down mice, rat and rabbit populations, and also is an affectionate companion.
Hope you enjoyed this post! Today I’m off to Gloucester to run my market stall for a whole week! Unfortunately that means there won’t be a new creature on here next sunday- but check in to see some creature design sketches!
Hello! My name is Katerina, and this is my monster. I caught him myself. I am six.
The sock monster lived under my bed, and ate my stuff. Sometimes I give him the crusts off my sandwiches, because I don’t like them.
He is shy of adults, but comes out when it’s just me. He ate all the crayons in my box.
I was in trouble a bit for feeding him. When I grow up I want to be scientist like my uncle Jesper. That’s why I fed him, and took notes of all the things he ate:
He sleeps most of the day, and comes out at night because he’s nocturnal. He only has two legs, and Uncle Jesper says that’s bipedal. His tail is very strong.
First brought to the Britain by the Victorians, the ornamental hippogriff still wanders the grand estate grounds and parkland- and the countryside, as they quickly escaped captivity and flourished independently.
Unlike their large winged cousins, who thrive in cold climates, this breed of small hippogriff prefers mild winters; they keep their short, soft fur all year ’round and don’t grow the distinctive thick white fur that true hippogriffs are known for.
Avid insectivores, these creatures are a great solution to garden pests- particularly fond of slugs and caterpillars.
Due to their association with wealth and land, they often appear on heraldry and in portraits: a symbol of fortune.
This six legged rodent is an effective harvester, active in hedgerows, farmland, woods and even urban environments from spring to autumn.
Commonly characterized in folklore and stories as greedy and selfish, the hexury is merely an accomplished survivor; weathering even the harshest winters with ease in their secure, cosy ‘pantries’.
They make their winter home in a variety of places, including rocky crevices, rotten logs and holes in tree roots.
Once their collection is deemed sufficient, they seal themselves inside with a wall of gathered fur, dry grass, mud and saliva. Once secured, a typical hoard can last up to six months, though rarely is that required.
The freshwater undine prefers lakes and slow moving rivers, but can still be found in deep streams and waterways across the country.
Whilst the undine is often assumed to be a smaller, feral relation to the mermaid; this is not the case. Undine are closer to fish than men, and have all the intelligence of your average minnow.
They are solitary creatures and highly territorial, tearing at their prey with needle sharp teeth- and will have a go at an unfortunate fisherman, should they mistakenly catch one.
Wading barefoot in known undine territory is not advised.
This summer may be full of weird cult activity and necromancer shennanigans, but the Seaflower Institute still has normal work to do.
Well, comparatively normal, I mean. Like, going to check up on an ancient dragon. That kind of normal.
The village of Lyminster in West Sussex is home to Knucker Hole, a supposedly bottomless blue pool. It was in this pool, the legend goes, that the Knucker lived; a fearsome dragon that tormented the local villages, until it was eventually slain- either by a knight in the traditional fashion, or a cunning baker via a poisoned pie.
Lyminster Church stained glass window depiction the slaying of the Knucker Hole monster
More likely, the dragon activity subsided due to the dragons hibernation cycle, which typically involves napping for a few hundred years.
Aerial view of the hole- thanks google!
We like to keep an eye on the Knucker, so every five years or so, someone goes to check its still alive- and this time it was me and Jesper’s turn. So, armed with dragon repellent and welly boots, we ventured to sussex.
The farmers whose livestock graze in the surrounding fields are certainly taking no chances- as Jesper found out when he accidentally touched the stock fencing.
The pool is pretty secure behind a high gate and barbed wire-topped fence. We were let in, and stood at the edge of the water like two clueless kids on the doorstep of an ancient monster.
There are many reasons why people might rehome a manticore bred by Eliza Knights-Herbert of 23 Rose Street, Revery. Most of these reasons relate back to their finicky personailities, or the ability to dissolve things just by looking at them.
Beep, however, was left with us at the institute because she is blind. Her previous family were displeased with her lack of laser vision, and feared she would no longer be an effective burgalar deterrent- a legitimate concern.
Luckily, Beep has found a new forever home, and will only be staying with us briefly before travelling to Gloucestershire- our resident manticore Percy will miss her.
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