#eustolas sp.

Eustolas sp.

The new apex predator of the Hawaiian islands, Eustolas can grow up to 1.2 meters in height. It is too large to fly, but is an adept terrestrial predator.  Unusually for an owl, its feathers have a greenish hue to them. It is randomly active through the day and night, preying on wharf rats, birds, notters, and carrion washed onto the shore. Eustolas mates for life unless one partner dies, and usually nests in higher grounds away from shore.

The beaches are pristine. The sea is a shimmering cyan, teeming with vibrant reefs. Overhead, the sun beats down, but not too strongly. A soft breeze rustles some nearby trees as waves gently wash onto the shore. This would make a perfect holiday destination, were it not for the fact that this island didn’t exist 20 million years ago. And the fact that the beach is covered with rats.

Rats were common throughout Polynesian islands as a result of human activity. They feasted well on the scraps of human society, but this bounty disappeared with them. And on a newly-born island, the most plentiful source of food is the sea. Thus, the wharf rats on the shore are different from their ancestors. They are larger and bear numerous adaptations for swimming.

From the edge of a tide pool, a wharf rat slipped into the water. Wharf rats can hold their breath for over two minutes. Plenty of time for her to search the reefs for food. Shellfish, crabs, small fish - anything the rat can grab could be eaten.

As she searches the reef, a larger creature brushed by her. She instinctively pivoted. It was a notter - a descendant of the mongooses humans introduced to the islands in an attempt to cull her ancestors. But the notter was of little concern to her; its kind is entirely piscivorous, and it had its eyes on bigger targets. She went back to food. With a quick burst from her webbed hindfeet, she grabbed a small wrasse that failed to retreat into the reef. Clutching it in her jaws, she headed for shore.

Leaping back onto the rocky tidepool, she started in on the fish. Only once it was entirely eaten did she notice the commotion on a nearby sandy beach. The other wharf rats had erupted into a panicked frenzy, most hightailing it to the water. The reason why was clear: a long-legged owl, almost a meter tall, standing on a now-dead wharf rat. It must have been hiding in the foliage behind the beach, watching the congregation of rats, waiting to strike.

Hawaii, 20 million years hence

On the larger islands at the east of the Hawaiian archipelago, the local species of Eustolas are big enough to prey upon even notters. This isn’t the case for the smaller leeward islands. This individual learns disturbing a denning notter is generally not a good idea.