Fisher legend has there was once a mighty liopleurodon who, unsatisfied with a diet of Namazu, is said to have set its sights on plumper prey─namely a portly Lalafellin regent with a penchant for skinny dipping in the warm waters near Hells' Lid. However, the fish quickly learned the limits of its maw's gape, and crestfallen, abandoned the king, a crown-shaped scar on its upper lip its only prize. But rather than sulk, this beast from the deep spent the rest of its life devouring creatures far larger than it, and now, five thousand summers later, the descendant of that legendary pioneer polishes off Plainsfolk like they were popotoes, proving once and for all...life truly does find a way.
[Suitable for printing on extra large canvases.] |
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