#strategus

Strategus aloeus

Ox beetle

Escarabajo rinoceronte de las palmeras

14 of July 2022 — Jalisco, MX

When I started this collection of pictures, I had originally only planned on including live insects, but I have to make an exception because this little friend is simply magnificent. He was found in the wild, not from a collection. The ferocious dinosaurs (the chickens) got to him before I could, but he’s an incredible specimen, I only wish I had gotten to him sooner.

I literally just missed this happening (I knew he was about to emerge, his color was changing) because I took a 2 hour nap, but HERE HE IS, my first male ox beetle! He’s so handsome!! And he’s white right now because he hasn’t finished hardening up yet. :) He has the cutest horns but they’re difficult to see from this angle. I’ll get a better photo when he is hardened.

Comparison of my two ox boys! One does indeed have much larger horns than the other.

He’s hardening up, about halfway there. Look at that horn on this boy!

revan:

The smoke rises, and the ash fills his lungs ; fire’s tendrils still lick at his body --- reach, is if to steal him; curl and grasp and CHOKE. His arm’s bent, hand by opposing shoulder as nose presses against skin and cough dampened by his arm. Keep low, he tells himself as eyes flick up to the silhouettes ahead.

( They haven’t seen him yet ; but he swears they can sense the fear )

Perhaps it’s anger that makes the flames grow ; rise with the fury of a plan foiled by a boy who they can no longer see ( he hides because he’s a coward --- runs when legs stop their tremble ). He’d done the deed. Power slips, and the regime fall. ( A stop and stagger compared to most , but hikaru knows of what’s wanted, and what’s now lost ).  No home ; death and destruction lay in the wake of terror, and a survivor born among the chaos.

Out for blood, and out for him. That voice yells SURVIVE, SURVIVE --- it screams and rattles bone and shakes him to the core; wills him with adrenaline to RUN. But instinct only goes so far ; where those before him and around chase the hunt. Thirst is almost tangible, where they catch his scent and follow.

Too late. Anger is the undercurrent beneath the lilt of voice ; dark and dangerous. The boy turns when he hears the steady feet, a hum, whir of vibroblade. Danger known with flourish and the slice of air before him. 

“ You. ”