Bengua
The ghost of Antarctica

Her name is Bengua. 

One year has already passed since she was born in the Amery Bay. She weighed just 2 kg, and she was unable to stand up without her mother's support.
Now Bengua is as large as a rhea and she's completely able to run and feed on her own; she has not yet reached her maximum size, since adults can be easily three times larger. She's slowly changing her white-dotted cryptic plumage of its childhood, in favor of a cream-brown pattern, with a large grey mask around the eyes.
She is playful like every juvenile, pursuing insects and watching sea waves crashing on the shore. But Bengua is different: she has no friends, nor a family.

She's alone.

Her parents and siblings have died two months ago, when a large pack of sheardogs pushed them towards a cliff for an easy meal. The group was trying to cross a large mountain, in a desperate gamble to find food. Precipitations have more than halved in the last decades across the entire continent, transforming the lush forests of Antarctica into a desolate and arid place, with virtually no trees and swamps. Viable and palatable food can only be found at higher elevations, where small streams act as a refuge for a few riparian plants. However, these small paradises are short-lived due to overgrazing, which rapidly degrades the quality of food. 

After her parent's death, Bengua returned to the lowlands, on the coast, where the seaweeds amassed on the beach were enough to sustain herself.
She started a long journey without a destination, reaching the shores of Belgrano; nights here are enlightened by the last Doom Traps' eruptions, which produce endless lava flows and enormous amounts of smoke.
Stars can be hardly seen in this dystopic landscape and, despite the near conclusion of the volcanic activities, things aren't even at their worst yet. Volcanic gases are already severely increasing the greenhouse effect, causing further catastrophic died out. 
Bengua isn't bothered by all of this: she doesn't know her fate and she continues her daily routine. Sometimes she vainly attempts to call other members, but it's useless; they are words that anyone can hear but nobody can reply.

Her name is Bengua.  She's the last ducktail.

No pygostylids will survive the E.N.D., which is just an acronym for Extinction of Non-continental vertebrates and Ducktails.
The Lentocene ends with Bengua, a ghost that carries on its shoulder the memory of a once-great dynasty.

The tale of ducktails is over, giving way to a new story...