|
Ah, spring. A season of life and rejuvenation, new beginnings, and a visceral preview of the lowest bowels of Hell.
Buggers half an inch long, emerging from stagnant pools all along the river in the woods. They were fascinating at first, feeding exclusively on the sugar-rich ooze from the phloems of plants, but then they began to mate. Suddenly, the females needed raw protein to build their eggs, and they all know where to get it.
...
|