Where the clouds are fire and the floor is stone, grows an orb with an open wound, intent on digesting innocent prey and sealing the slit above like a stitch of a wound, an appetite for destruction. The one-legged things prowl, as their mouth wraps halfway around their ugly spherical head. Upon its crown a course and thick peak of hardened skin with ridges that resemble the aggressive plants that it eats to camouflage it from the three legged avian.
Three legs, one between the other as it walks, with sharp blades of its back, protruded bone spines. The feathers are solid like golden teeth, fanning the useless air behind itself. It spits volatile straying teeth shaped like darts that grow in rows, one row behind the next. It spits insects the same way, insects that feed on its blood source and crawl under its scales into its bloodstream through the skin and does not digest but spats them out as well. Poisonous darts and distracting living parasites expelled as distraction, its kills are complete as predator's teeth bite for a finishing kill only, a marring mashing gnawing gashing crush of consumption.
Incompatible humanoids, different from those of the pale blue dot, develop planets and bomb them until evolutionary lives look as we do today. Ignorant of this the life, they played with space and time portals and sent explorers wearing sunglasses, a helm and boots through only to be eaten by the monopod which was only then to be assassinated and then eaten by the larger tripod, below the flying whales and sharks of the fire sea.