Why Hasn't Evolution Made Another Platypus? - Issue 52: The Hive

Snuffling through the underbrush, the shaggy little creature wanders through the sylvan night, sticking its nose in one place, then another, seeking the aroma of its soft-bodied dinner. The forest is dark and the pixie's eyesight poor, but long whiskers and a keen sense of smell allow it to get around. Threatened, it takes off at breakneck speed, barreling through the vegetation, ducking through holes, soon lost from sight. Many animals spend their nights cruising the forest floor, searching for small prey in a similar fashion: Hedgehogs, shrews, weasels, to name a few, and bigger ones, too, like opossums and even pigs. The world is full of them. But this one is different. All the others are hairy. This one's pelage is also soft, made up of millions of thin strands. All the others move about on four legs and bear live young. And as the male calls, he identifies himself: "Kee-wee, kee-wee."