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galahadwilder:

A sudden, terrifying thought

When you see an animal with its eyes set to the front, like wolves, or humans, that’s usually a predator animal.

If you see an animal with its eyes set farther back, though—to the side—that animal is prey.

Now look at this dragon.

See those eyes?

They’re to the SIDE.

This raises an interesting—and terrifying—question.

What in the name of Lovecraft led evolution to consider DRAGONS…

As PREY?

I know this isn’t part of my blogs theme but like this is interesting

i know this isn’t part
of my blogs theme but like this
is interesting

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@howdidigetinvolved

The eyes-in-the-front thing (usually) only applies to mammals. Crocodiles, arguably the inspiration for dragons, have eyes that look to the sides despite being a predator.

hey what up I’m about to be That Asshole

This isn’t a mammalian thing. When people talk about ‘eyes on the front’ or ‘eyes on the side,’ they’re really talking about binocular vision vs monocular vision. Binocular vision is more advantageous for predators because it’s what gives you depth perception; i.e, the distance you need to leap, lunge, or swipe to take out the fast-moving thing in front of you. Any animal that can position its eyes in a way that it has overlapping fields of vision has binocular vision. That includes a lot of predatory reptiles, including komodo dragons, monitor lizards, and chameleons.

(The eyes-in-front = predator / eyes-on-sides = prey thing holds true far more regularly for birds than it does for mammals. Consider owls, hawks, and falcons vs parrots, sparrows, and doves.)

But it’s not like binocular vision is inherently “better” than monocular vision. It’s a trade-off: you get better at leap-strike-kill, but your field of vision is commensurately restricted, meaning you see less stuff. Sometimes, the evolutionary benefit of binocular vision just doesn’t outweigh the benefit of seeing the other guy coming. Very few forms of aquatic life have binocular vision unless they have eye stalks, predator or not, because if you live underwater, the threat could be coming from literally any direction, so you want as wide a field of view as you can get. If you see a predator working monocular vision, it’s a pretty safe assumption that there is something else out there dangerous enough that their survival is aided more by knowing where it is than reliably getting food inside their mouths.

For example, if you are a crocodile, there is a decent chance that a hippo will cruise up your shit and bite you in half. I’d say that makes monocular vision worthwhile.

Which brings us back to OP’s point. Why would dragon evolution favor field of view over depth perception?

A lot of the stories I’ve read painted the biggest threats to dragons (until knights with little shiny sticks came along) as other dragons. Dragons fight each other, dragons have wars. And like fish, a dragon would need to worry about another dragon coming in from any angle. That’s a major point in favor of monocular vision. Moreover, you don’t need depth perception in order to hunt if you can breathe fucking fire. A flamethrower is not a precision weapon. If you can torch everything in front of you, who cares if your prey is 5 feet away or 20? Burn it all and sift among the rubble for meat once everything stops moving.

Really, why would dragons have eyes on the front of their heads? Seems like they’ve got the right idea to me.

Worthwhile cryptozoological discourse

I was gonna make a joke but this is cool

a librarian’s hoard

[ID: Digital illustration of a red dragon surrounded by their colorful hoard of books. A worn, blue scarf wraps around their neck, and a pair of gold glasses sits on their snout, held in place by a gold chain. The dragon’s lair resembles a huge, airy library with multiple levels of bookcases, tall mountains of books, and floor-to-ceiling windows revealing open sky. Decorative gold chains drape across the space. The dragon smiles as it holds a small book in its mouth, stretching to offer it to a distant human standing atop a book tower. End ID.]

i-draws-dinosaurs:

i-draws-dinosaurs:

i-draws-dinosaurs:

Ok so, here’s a funky fact: in the early evolution of fish, the claspers (reproductive organs still present in modern sharks) actually began as a genuine third pair of limbs. Sooo what if instead of becoming purely reproductive, the claspers instead developed into full on legs.

Basically what I’m saying here is six-finned fish -> hexapedal early tetrapods -> hexapedal temnospondyls -> hexapodal tiny weirdo arboreal dendrerpetids that develop membranes to glide -> amphibian dragons

they have little grabby hands and spurt venom out of their mouths and they are my precious new babies

Speaking of the arboreal proto-dragons, here’s the little guys!

My entire design aesthetic with these fellows is “little dudes I want to hold” and I for one think it’s working!

Good tags :)

ibetyousweet:

It’s painful to be in love with a dragon.

I venture into her cave every day. She raises her head and gives me her signature toothy grin. We talk. We laugh. We smile.

But then, a low rumbling sound pierces through our conversation. We both go silent. I always know that that’s my cue to leave. Otherwise, she says, I might not make it back out of the cave again.

I always return after a few hours and I find her lounging on her back, her stomach much more round and gurgly. We resume our conversation from earlier.

Some days, I can’t help but to stare at her belly. Many creatures have met their end in her stomach. I find myself wondering what it’s like to be in their place, desperately squirming and fighting against layers of strong muscle and fat. Of course, I would never want to meet that same fate. The thought makes me shiver. She asks why I’m shivering and if I’m cold, but I don’t answer.

One day, when I come to her cave, I immediately notice that she’s acting off. She watches my every move intently. I try to act normal, but it seems that she’s ready to pounce… And then, finally, she does. She pins me down with a hand to my chest. I cry, beg, scream for her to stop, but all she does is coo at me and tell me how much she loves me, and wants me to be a part of her.

She takes her time when swallowing me down. I can feel every contraction her throat makes. I can feel a rush of wet muscles, pushing and pulling me down. I struggle and cry, but I’m no match for her. With one final gulp, I slip down her throat and slush out into her stomach. The foul stench of meat and bile fill the air. Immediately, stomach acids start clinging to me and her stomach begins churning and contracting around me.

Outside, she sighs happily, laying on her stomach. She can feel every desperate squirm I make. The only thing I receive in response are loud gurgles. Her stomach constricts, pushing me back into place. I hardly even make a bulge, me being a human and her a dragon.

She looks at her stomach curiously. I give a particularly hard push. For a moment, a bulge appears in her stomach. She only giggles at the feeling. The dragon’s stomach clenches, and she watches in amusement as the bulge abruptly disappears, as I’m pushed back into the center of her body, her gut.

I don’t think I’ll be getting out.