You prowl and sniff the air around your pack,
With outsized ears you wear just like a crown
Atop a cloak of matted, mottled brown;
The silence summons heckles on your back.
You take the centre stage for your attack,
And outline plans to raid the nearest town;
You prowl and sniff the air around your pack,
With outsized ears you wear just like a crown.
Your kingdom cannot cope with a setback,
You listen for that common nasal noun.
A-tishoo! A tishoo! The hunt falls down.
Ascendancy now broken by the flak,
You prowl and sniff the air around your pack.
A tough crowd (Photo Credit: Amanda Black).
This is a Rondel, inspired
ScienceBlog.com has no paywalls, no sponsored content, and no agenda beyond getting the science right. Every story here is written to inform, not to impress an advertiser or push a point of view.
Good science journalism takes time — reading the papers, checking the claims, finding researchers who can put findings in context. We do that work because we think it matters.
If you find this site useful, consider supporting it with a donation. Even a few dollars a month helps keep the coverage independent and free for everyone.