Flouncet

290 Million Years Post-Establishment

A joyful, energetic scrounger with a passion for bouncing, the flouncet is a distinctly terrestrial species of scansorial scrounger endemic to Serinaustra's clearview mountains (nowadays, eroded into many miles loosely tree-covered, lightly rolling hills.) Though it resembles it, the flouncet is not a direct descendant of the sprounce, but rather a sister lineage which diverged around the same time, when scansorial scroungers first began to diverge from the other scrounger clades in the early hothouse. It differs from the sprounce and its descendants in retaining greater social complexity, which goes hand in hand with intellect in the scroungers. Gregarious and playful, the flouncet is an intelligent animal compared to most scansorial scroungers, having more in common with the primal scroungers, which it also resembles (of course, scrounger anatomy is conservative, and so must resemble each other in some way.) It uses its cognition to amuse itself with many games of its own creation, some to the great irritation of others; they seem to delight in annoying larger animals, pulling tails and feathers and jumping quickly out of reach when their target retaliates. But it is also an ecosystem engineer, and its actions have a far-reaching effect on many other species, often in a positive way.

Flouncets are inhabitants of tall grassy areas at the tops of hills surrounded by woodland, and typically on each hilltop one pair will settle and make their home, gradually filling it with their descendants over time to form a larger community. These omnivores, which enjoy a diet mainly of insects, seeds and flowers (but can eat nearly anything they come across), can scarcely walk; they move nearly always in bold, long bounds, moving both hind legs together like a kangaroo, a surprisingly energy-efficient strategy and one that works very well to provide a view over tall grass. They like a clear vantage to spot any danger well before it is close enough to be a threat, and they do not at all like closed-in spaces. Such open hilltops do exist naturally; known as grassy balds, they may form from lightning strikes toppling forest trees, and then grazers preventing the regrowth of the canopy for many decades afterward (such habitats are the only place certain specialized animals such as the stoneslink, a burdle, may be found.) But naturally grassy hilltops, in this wet and tropical climate, are very rare. The flouncet is smart enough to modify its environment to suit its own wants. They do not very much like trees, and so when a sapling grows up much past their head height on their hill, they set to work on removing it. They needn't dig it up or cut it down; to kill it, they only need to strip the bark from its trunk, girdling it, and starving it. Their small, sharp beaks are just the tool for the job; in a few quick bites, they assure the would-be tree a slow, quiet demise, and over many years, the hilltop remains clear. Not only to their own benefit, by preventing tree growth, they increase the variety of habitats available, and allow other species to specialize to life in these clearings as well as providing increased range for animals and plants which had already adapted to live in much rarer natural clearings.

Flouncets always live in pairs; these couples form during a brief adolescent wandering phase, where subadults venture away from familiar lands in search of equally wanderlusting partners. Once fully adult, these pairs become their everything, and they have few other social bonds, becoming introverted and oftentimes hostile toward any strangers. Bonded flouncets are partners for life, and will very often refuse to take a new mate even in the event that one passes away. This is because their social bonds are cemented with special, synchronized rituals unique to each and every couple, developed and perfected over the years into a language that is theirs alone. They touch tentacles, wrapping their faces together, pulling one another close as they waltz and circle. They pull apart, bow and spin, then leap up together in sync, each emitting a warbling song they learn bit by bit together, adding each other's contributions to produce a final dance unlike that of any other couple. The bond between the pair is extraordinarily deep, and once paired, they will never be seen apart. They forage, fight, and play as a united force, working together always against challenges. And over the years of a surprisingly long lifespan, they become so attuned to one another that they can coordinate their behavior virtually without thinking about it. They become a part of each other.

For up to 50 years, a pair of married flouncets can rule a single hilltop. Though they are only 28 inches high and weigh scarcely more than 12 lbs, so quick and wary, smart and resourceful are they, that they rarely are killed by anything except illness or age. Always looking out for one another, flouncets construct underground warrens in which to rest and nest, using hook-like claws on their tentacles to dig. Over the years one pair becomes a family, and families grow and expand in a social network of related pairs which, if space allows, may share the hilltop, cooperating with one another to defend it and keep out the trees, though there is very little social behavior between different pairs, and they rarely allow anyone to touch them but their single mate. The only way to be accepted into such a clan of flouncets is to marry-in; juveniles go on forays away from their hills to find like-minded youngsters from distant territories. Males usually bring home female partners, but some pairs are same-sex; elders will accept any new members as long as they are chosen by their own blood relatives. Widowed flouncets of more than a few seasons hardly ever take new mates, for years of bonding with their first partner gradually changes their brains, cementing permanent bonding rituals that are nearly impossible to break and re-make. Such old, lonely individuals may, however, devote themselves more strongly to their relatives, taking on a platonic aunt or uncle role to their offspring. Having less to lose, such older adults often become bolder fighters, the first to defend their family from danger, at risk of harm to themselves.

Like many scroungers - but not very many scansorial ones - flouncets readily use tools, especially throwing stones; they have great facial dexterity and one of the best aims in the animal kingdom. Rocks are often piled up near dens and left at the ready; when a predator or unwanted intruder appears, the whole family will pelt it with stones, often aiming right into the face and eyes. Working as a collective for the benefit of all, as soon as danger passes, their focus turns inward to their partners as they preen and reassure each other after each stressful event. Only their dependent chicks will ever see something close to the affection a pair devotes toward one another, and even they will soon grow up, form their own couples, and only peripherally interact with their parents once they mature. In flouncet society, pairs are the main unit of which the community is built; individuals are incomplete, imperfect, and rarely seen. Those solitary examples which do exist - the very young and the widowed - are short-lasting; they will quickly form pairs of their own, or otherwise are unlikely to live very long lives once their partnership is lost.