The crested gecko is not a species suited to a world composed entirely of grasslands. It is a tropical lizard and an adept tree-climber. Its new ground-dwelling life did not suit it well. Its dropped in population even more dramatically than kiwis after Corvolea left. At the species' peak, there were roughly a hundred thousand thousand lizards scattered across the plains of northern Abeli. As the rat populations increased, though, theirs plummeted. Finally, there came a day, only about a thousand years Post-Abandonment, where they’d been nearly eradicated from the planet. The last population lived along the bank of a small stream, tucked away in the foothills of the central Abelian mountain range. Here, just a few dozen lizards subsisted on isopods and the occasional mosquito. A single aggressive rat would, at this point, have been enough to cause the extinction of this species. And a single rat is what arrived in their territory one afternoon.
The lizards clambered up the tallest stalks of grass they could find, following the instincts they’d inherited from their earthly ancestors. They found themselves just inches above the jaws of their predator, and several fell into its hungry mouth. It was mere moments before it attacked again, clawing at the geckos and their pathetic refuge. The clump of grass tilted to one side, then the other, falling away from the rodent and into the creek.
Eleven Correlophus individuals clung to life on their tiny raft of grass, moss, and dirt. They crawled over each other in an attempt to escape the rushing waters below. Soon, the stream joined a slightly larger river, bringing the stranded lizards along for the ride. Other bits of debris accumulated around them, and soon a mass of grass blades, roots, and stems over a meter wide was making its way down a river over 50 meters in width.
Somewhere along the way, the lizards began to smell the water changing. There was an odor of salt in the air, and when they attempted to drink, they found the water unpalatable. They were moving slowly now, up and out of the inlet and towards a small, tropical island to its north. The winds blew steadily, and by nightfall the clump of grass had washed up on the shore. The ten of them - for one had fallen in the ocean as it slept - cautiously stepped onto the beach, crossing a few meters of red-stained sand before reaching a thicket of grass. This island was warmer and wetter than their former home, a better habitat for the little lizards.
Their inbred population would grow rapidly from here, soon reaching other isles of similar size to the north. Subsequently, a few lucky individuals washed up on a larger chunk of land. This landmass was, at the time, both the largest and farthest from mainland Panapterra ever colonized by any of the six large animal species. One day, the descendants of these crested geckos will recolonize the rest of the world. For the time being, though, they were the rulers of this small archipelago, a home devoid of rodent predators and whose conditions were just barely tolerable to its new tenants. By a stroke of luck, the founding population didn't carry any recessive deleterious traits that might have spelled their doom, so while genetic diversity would remain minimal for many generations, the descendants of these ten geckos were able to thrive without issue.
The state of the archipelago has changed little since then. Geckos now populate all the islands in the region, a total of 15 landmasses large and small. On most of these, they are joined by a sizable kiwi presence. Several groups have rafted here independently, and some have rapidly experienced island gigantism. This trend is mirrored in some subpopulations of the lizards, which are in the early stages of what will become a massive radiation. Already they have adapted to life on the open plains, while simultaneously some regions of their habitat are becoming closer to the dense forests their Earthly ancestors dwelt in. The birds may eat some geckos but, more importantly, they make short work of any rats that wash ashore. The future for these lizards is a bright one, even if the Isles will be their sole home for thousands of generations to come.