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Description
The second in my x-number of entries in 's contest for his speculative evolution/terraforming project, Nea.

Another representation of Nea's wild inhabitants by the amateur nature artist Marcus Daron, a resident of the planet himself. Here is the journal entry that accompanies the sketch:

While on a voyage through the Western Sand Seas, I was fortunate enough to come across a Sand Otter, one of the largest vertebrates endemic to that ecosystem, bathing itself at daybreak.
Our caravan had stopped to rest the previous night beside a lone outcropping of rock, somewhat of a rarity this far out into the ocean of dust. Feeling well-rested and hungry, I took my fried sandnugget breakfast, water canteen, sketchbook, and drawing implements and struck out for the rocks, aiming to see if they housed any of the rare Echinocereus triglochidiatus neanicus. Echinocereus they housed not, but as I approached the micro-mountain a sudden movement caught my eye. I looked to the top of one of the lower crags and my gaze met that of a female Mustela lutramimus harenaemarisensis. I sat down at once upon a low, flat fragment of the outcrop and began to sketch by the early morning light, excited by this unusual interaction.
While my pencil moved in long, fluid strokes across my paper, so did the Otter's tongue across her flank. It seemed that by my sudden intrusion I had momentarily disrupted her daily cleaning ritual, with which she now proceeded as she had before my presence had diverted her attention.
Sand Otters have one of the most remarkable hunting strategies I have ever seen in a vertebrate, and I was highly fortunate to see this in action that morning.
After some time, she discontinued her bathing and simply basked on her outcrop, alert, watching for movement in the sand or a prey item surfacing for breath. In this pose, I captured her.
At length, Rust-Tail (for so I had named her; her tail had a tip that was a brilliant orange-ochre) spotted movement of suitable size. The Otter's focus locked, monitoring it until it came within a certain range. Then, as I watched, Rust-Tail took in a lungful of air and 'pounced', diving into the sand with unprecedented rapidity to chase her prey.
The chase was short.
Once the prey had been subdued, the successful Otter brought the unlucky sandguppy to the surface to snack on, dragging the meal back to her claimed ledge.
We enjoyed our breakfasts together; I my sandnuggets, her her sandguppy.
Soon, though, I received a signal from the caravan in the form of a great clamoring and honking that it was high time to proceed with our venture. I bid my new mustelid friend farewell, and we parted ways.
A little information on the biology of the Sand Otter, now, for the better education of the reader:
Sand Otters, while resemblant of their namesake Lutrines, are not otters at all, though they are of the mustelid family. The Otters are actually descendants of the genetically modified version of the Long-Tailed Weasel, adapted for life below the surface of the dust. Over the course of these three hundred years of Nea, the Sand Otters have evolved at a stunning pace thanks to their lightning birth and maturity rates.
They have gained size; Sand Otters frequently reach fifty centimeters in length, as opposed to their thirty-five-centimeter ancestors. With the increased size comes greatly increased lung capacity, so as to spend longer periods under the sand. Their ears have gotten far smaller and turned inwards, so as to protect against sand intrusion. Thanks to their ancestors' genetic modification, they possess clear secondary eyelids that prevent their particulate environment from causing optical damage, and their nostrils are closable to prevent inhalation of sand. Perhaps most the notable feature of the Otters are their partially webbed forefeet and elongated hind toes, so as to move faster through the dust oceans which they inhabit.
Although the Otters are adorable, due to their highly specialized lifestyle, they are non-domesticatable.

Project Nea belongs to Hyrotrioskjan

Description
The second in my x-number of entries in 's contest for his speculative evolution/terraforming project, Nea.

Another representation of Nea's wild inhabitants by the amateur nature artist Marcus Daron, a resident of the planet himself. Here is the journal entry that accompanies the sketch:

While on a voyage through the Western Sand Seas, I was fortunate enough to come across a Sand Otter, one of the largest vertebrates endemic to that ecosystem, bathing itself at daybreak.
Our caravan had stopped to rest the previous night beside a lone outcropping of rock, somewhat of a rarity this far out into the ocean of dust. Feeling well-rested and hungry, I took my fried sandnugget breakfast, water canteen, sketchbook, and drawing implements and struck out for the rocks, aiming to see if they housed any of the rare Echinocereus triglochidiatus neanicus. Echinocereus they housed not, but as I approached the micro-mountain a sudden movement caught my eye. I looked to the top of one of the lower crags and my gaze met that of a female Mustela lutramimus harenaemarisensis. I sat down at once upon a low, flat fragment of the outcrop and began to sketch by the early morning light, excited by this unusual interaction.
While my pencil moved in long, fluid strokes across my paper, so did the Otter's tongue across her flank. It seemed that by my sudden intrusion I had momentarily disrupted her daily cleaning ritual, with which she now proceeded as she had before my presence had diverted her attention.
Sand Otters have one of the most remarkable hunting strategies I have ever seen in a vertebrate, and I was highly fortunate to see this in action that morning.
After some time, she discontinued her bathing and simply basked on her outcrop, alert, watching for movement in the sand or a prey item surfacing for breath. In this pose, I captured her.
At length, Rust-Tail (for so I had named her; her tail had a tip that was a brilliant orange-ochre) spotted movement of suitable size. The Otter's focus locked, monitoring it until it came within a certain range. Then, as I watched, Rust-Tail took in a lungful of air and 'pounced', diving into the sand with unprecedented rapidity to chase her prey.
The chase was short.
Once the prey had been subdued, the successful Otter brought the unlucky sandguppy to the surface to snack on, dragging the meal back to her claimed ledge.
We enjoyed our breakfasts together; I my sandnuggets, her her sandguppy.
Soon, though, I received a signal from the caravan in the form of a great clamoring and honking that it was high time to proceed with our venture. I bid my new mustelid friend farewell, and we parted ways.
A little information on the biology of the Sand Otter, now, for the better education of the reader:
Sand Otters, while resemblant of their namesake Lutrines, are not otters at all, though they are of the mustelid family. The Otters are actually descendants of the genetically modified version of the Long-Tailed Weasel, adapted for life below the surface of the dust. Over the course of these three hundred years of Nea, the Sand Otters have evolved at a stunning pace thanks to their lightning birth and maturity rates.
They have gained size; Sand Otters frequently reach fifty centimeters in length, as opposed to their thirty-five-centimeter ancestors. With the increased size comes greatly increased lung capacity, so as to spend longer periods under the sand. Their ears have gotten far smaller and turned inwards, so as to protect against sand intrusion. Thanks to their ancestors' genetic modification, they possess clear secondary eyelids that prevent their particulate environment from causing optical damage, and their nostrils are closable to prevent inhalation of sand. Perhaps most the notable feature of the Otters are their partially webbed forefeet and elongated hind toes, so as to move faster through the dust oceans which they inhabit.
Although the Otters are adorable, due to their highly specialized lifestyle, they are non-domesticatable.

Project Nea belongs to Hyrotrioskjan