Octavio Briswald’s field notes
June 10, 2114
This jungle is a steaming parboiler of moist misery. Everything here bites, stings, or oozes; usually some combination of all three. The wretched gilvos are everywhere, yet uncatchable, scampering gaily up tree trunks and through the canopy just out of reach. And when you think you have one in your net, suddenly—zwip!—he unfurls the flaps of skin from his back and underbelly and glides out of the net to freedom.
Our guide has indicated that the best way to capture a gilvo is to sit still and let their innate curiosity bring them to you. That is all well and good, but I will be damned if I am going to sit in this swampy bogpit while all of creation competes to skewer my neck and limbs. Writing this log entry is the longest break I’ve taken all day, though my limbs are heavy from exertion and humidity.
But I’ll get one of the blighters yet. Briswald will not be beaten!
Excerpt from Leonard Fitzmurdle’s personal log
June 10, 2114
We did not catch a single one for our collection.
However, I did manage to sketch this image during one of the few quiet moments of the day, which to my mind made the trip worthwhile. Even if we cannot get a live specimen in each instance, I hope that these paintings of mine will in some way help the scientific community understand the aspect and nature of these beasts we work with on a daily basis.
Other mentions: Alexander formed a deep personal connection with a pair of gilvos (TNG).