Anatomy and Physiology
"I mean what does one say to describe 'em, Jingles? They are fur wrapped cords of muscle housing a brain of naught but mischief, bravado, and sheer stubbornness."
How one of the men, an elf actually, by the name of Akor, that I was sailing with first described these magnificent beasts to me.
Snow-claw Otters are notoriously friendly to fishing and merchant vessels, and because of this, I had plentiful chances to observe them up close, and even had hands on time with one of them. They are playful creatures, mischief makers, a key trait that one would expect to find in the mustelid family. They are lithe and have the typical otter body plan, being athletic, a wound cord of muscle wrapped in a water-resistant fur coat. The webbing one would expect is all present between the toes of their paws. Jaws are most similar to that of other higher speed predatory otter species like the Northern River Otter, or the 'Riverwolf Otter' more properly known as the Giant River Otter native to the jungles of Kang-Chorath.
However they have two unique and defining aspects to their physiology that are most interesting. The first are their coats. The structuring of those coats, which have them seeming an almost off white, much like glacial ice and riverside snow and slush is actually because they have two layers of hairs. The first, the inner layer, closest to their skin, is a muddy grey-brown to brown, similar if a little muted, to most otter coats. The second outer layer however is made up of thicker, almost polar bear like fur, just as water resistant, making them look a bit shaggier and larger than they are on land. When swimming slicking to them giving them a fearsome appearance when cutting through the water, and seeing them disappear easily in the swells and caps of the choppy waters on the surface of the Glacial Sea, blending easily with the bits of ice and with the wave foam. However they have a second even more unique adaptation, unique amongst the mustelid family.
Their front paws have what can best be described as very gently curved two inch ice axe heads, complete with teeth and all for claws. These robust claws, and their frankly impressive tendon flexibility and strength, as well as the iron-wrought musculature structure of their paws and toes play a massive role in a particular hunting strategy and particular prey item that plays a notable part in their trips to the Glacial Sea yearly. A particular feast and glut that can only be properly appreciated when seen in person, however, given I was lucky enough to bear witness to it, I shall include a written accounting of what happened based off the notes I tried to keep scribbled down whilst I observed this rare, and highly risky, summer glut hunt behavior later in this entry.
Social Structure and Behaviors
Snow-claw otters are not unique, but they are the rarity among mustelids and even other otter species, amongst the minority who live even as adults in tightly organized family groups. However the structure and overlapping complexity tied to these groups, and the effects it has on mating behaviors and rearing of kits makes them worthy of a little bit of deeper discussion and understanding.
Snow-claw otters, as adults, will be found in groups, however there is not but one name for such a group, but two, and the name one would use depends entirely on the sexes of the members of the groups members. The first is the more common, what one might call the 'family unit'. This is, from both sources I researched and experts I met and talked too, as well as my own limited observations, is a group that will consist of one adult male, the wavewulf, as sailors call them, and two or three adult females, as well as any yearlings, babies from the previous autumn. This type of more common group is known as a swell. The second type of group is made up of un-homed males, and they are less tight knit, though they come together for survival and because unlike other mustelids, Snow-claw otters seem to be a lot like wolves or even us, relying on a social dynamic and faring very poorly very quickly alone. These groups can be a small as but a pair, and though I saw no such group, I've been told they can be as large as five or six animals. These all male groups are known as 'Raids'.
Every year, part of this gathering during breeding season in the early months of spring on the Glacial Sea includes the 'wave wars'. What this seems to be, from what bits I witnessed and could understand, the roving bands of males and the swells will go through elaborate contests, and they will oft culminate in at least one male challenging the wavewulf of the swell. These moments and episodes play out all over the Sea so I've been told. How they fight is unique, as is the interactions when one wavewulf loses their position and a new male takes over. In fact, to hear the sailors and locals tell it, no wavewulf stays at the head of a swell for two years. They fight until they find a male they deem 'worthy' and willingly give up their position. This might very well be how the species avoids damaging the genetic pools, as the females will stay together, to a point. It is common for all the females in a swell to be genetic relatives, sisters, mothers and daughters, what have you. It would seem the males are the competent that rotate out to keep genetic diversity.
But oh the fights. Those familiar with the mustelid family would be aware how willing this family is to do battle. They are fearless to the point of reckless, every member of this clade and Snow-claws are no exception. Males do not fight to kill, however that is more due to just how tough these otters are physically, and less for lack of trying. One wavewulf, the one who's swell I had the pleasure of watching on a nest raid, was missing an eye and an ear, and when I had the luck to see him up close, his body was crisscrossed even through his fur with tearing teeth marks and claw gashes, scarred over with narrow, but visible, bald patching to those scars. Wounds mostly, though not all, inflicted by fellow male otters.
Most fascinating of all however is that when a new wavewulf takes power they do not, as is often seen in other mammals where these sorts of structures exist, kill male offspring of the previous wavewulf. Far from it, they finish raising them as far as anyone has best been able to tell, allowing them to reach a year of age, before, just as their own father would have, kicking them out of the swell to make it on their own, or to seek or form a raid, likely starting with a brother or cousin if more than one male survived to age in the swell's litters.
Little is known for sure that I could find out about this species pregnancies and the likely number of kits they might give birth too. Its likely a reasonably swift pregnancy turnaround, with breeding taking place after the contests, in late spring and early summer, and birth likely in late autumn or early winter. Best guesses place pregnancy around fourteen to eighteen weeks, though again I couldn't find better exact numbers. Snow-claw otters you see do not do well in captivity of any kind, and are elusive animals through the autumn and winter, dispersing all throughout the waterways across Suranth. It is believed, based solely on how many younglings most swells have with em every year on average, that unlike other mustelids, Snow-claws are not prone to big litters. Most estimates I could garner from anyone were in the range of two to four kits and given what I observed of the creatures in my limited time I had to observe them, their behaviors, their athleticism, their very fast, always on the move, lifestyle and the family units I had the good fortune to see, I would be inclined to place faith in that assessment.
Dietary Notes
Snow-claw Otters are masters of the waterways, given they live in groups, they can take almost anything as a prey item. Most any fish, mollusks and crustaceans of course make up a notably large portion of their diet, however other small and moderate sized mammals and the few amphibians that can make their homes this far north are also on the menu should opportunity present itself. Waterfowl are also an opportunistic choice most of the year around, however during the short arctic summers when in the Glacial Sea, their diet takes a notable turn in its balance, part of which helps them get their name. They become almost exclusively fish and fowl eaters. In particular the various migratory birds that make their homes for the spring and summer on and around the Glacial Sea, nesting and raising their young here until autumn, are the glut for these predators. In particular a species known as the Berg Tern, a moderately sized migratory bird that nests in the hundreds and thousands amongst the ledges, cracks and divots of the icebergs upon the Glacial Sea every year are a primary target. Their eggs are apparently exceedingly nutrient dense according to the men and women I sailed with, making them a prime target. This is where the behavior I was lucky enough to get to witness, the Nest Raids, come from.
Witnessing a Nest Raid
I watched as I was instructed, with baited breath, as the Frost-Dancer sat, on anchor in the early morning, as I observed as best I could through my binoculars. The otters were moving rapidly around the iceberg, swimming and bobbing their heads up and down, similar in some ways to 'spotting' a behavior common in whales and porpoises. They were quite loud, stealth clearly not the mission here, we could hear them even some few hundred meters away, the yips and chatters and squeaks clearly co-ordination and organization of some kind. I was able to identify the adults easily enough, there were four of them, clearly one wave-wulf and three females, and it seemed they had two yearlings with them as well.
Above them the flock of terns were clearly nervous, they'd heard the otters even if they hadn't seen them. Berg Terns are moderate sized birds, however they are not well armed, not being raptors, living mostly off wading the shallows and grabbing up small mollusks and crustaceans as well as various vegetation. They most certainly could not fight the otters off if the creatures could somehow get up the cliff, though they made a brave face of it, the males puffing out their chests, some taking to wing and beginning to dive low, their shrill calls echoing, as they made bluff charges down low at the otters, trying to dissuade them. My breath caught a little at this, because clearly despite my misgivings, the birds had reason and belief these predators could reach them.
What I witnessed next is perhaps one of the purest contests of will I've ever seen in nature. The wave-wulf leading the way, finding his path, sprinted and leapt clear out of the water, almost a meter of height, slamming into the sheer cliff face of ice, but not sliding loose! Those claws, as it turns out, resemble small ice axe heads for a reason. The others of the swell followed suit, spread out over a few dozen meters of the ice face. Their powerful back legs and the unique shoulder joints they have, as well as the sheer power and tendon strength in their front legs and paws now went to work. The otters would use their back legs and flexible spine to kick off the ice face, rotating their front shoulders tearing free their namesake claws and gain altitude, slamming their front paws into the ice face again, the claws biting, as their body slammed into the berg, and they would reset, moving their heads back and forth, seeming to examine the ice, and do it again!
As they were doing this, they were of course more or less defenseless, but the sheer power was something to witness, as was their sheer focus. The birds, realizing the danger, instinctually understanding that if any of the otters made the ledge their would be no stopping them, started changing their tactics. The females, trying to balance the need of keeping the eggs warm and defending the nesting sites, starting pecking parts of the edge of the ledge with all their might, pushing and cracking bits of ice loose, sending them tumbling down, trying to knock the otters loose! The males changed tactics as well, risking their own lives and safety, bullrushing, swarming, pecking and even slamming into the otters! The younglings were knocked loose swiftly, unsurprisingly, yet they fell back to the water gracefully, and resurfaced, yipping and calling out to their elders, swimming tight circles, waiting eagerly. The climb was slow, ardous and dangerous it would seem.
Another, a female, was dislodged and fell seeming as if she would slam to the water back first, from halfway up, yet her flexible and lithe form twisted in free-fall, with no panic and what should have been a dangerous impact became a graceful dive. The wave-wulf was dislodged when two birds slammed into him, yet in the process he tore the wing of one of the males with his mighty jaws, dragging the creature down with him, and the three other otters swarmed the bird in the water, it having no escape. Another of the females fell, seeming to strike the berg on her way down, and at first I thought she had been killed, yet though bleeding with a nasty wound from a beak on her shoulder, she re-surfaced and joined the dismembering of the bird that had been dragged to its doom.
All of this took place over many minutes, but yet, despite the valiant efforts of the terns, the last female made the ledge. Immediately it became clear what was to come. Now on solid ground, with her name sake claws helping anchor her, the birds could not truly challenge her. They tried and were definitely giving her superficial wounds, however she stayed focused and on task, taking a swipe at one bird and throwing its stunned body over the edge, where it plummeted into the water with the rest of her swell, having no chance to recover and try to get airborne. However she did not stop there. The eggs were the prize, and she ate her fill with glee, and then in an act I could not believe I was witnessing, started sliding entire nests of tangled reeds and weeds along the ice and over the edge, eggs and chicks within them, sending them to the waters below. She spent many minutes wrecking absolute havoc upon the nesting flock, sending another adult, a female, over the edge after shattering one of her wing bones as well, before eventually, finally sliding over the edge herself in a seamless dive, slicing back into the water and rejoining her feasting swell.
"I told ye didn't I, quite the sight was it not?" Marcus, the sailor whom had woken me to insure I saw this inquired. "Something ya need ta witness to properly 'preciate." And on that count I could not help but agree. It was one of the most truly fascinating battles of predator and prey I've ever born witness too in all my time as a naturalist. The drama, the risk, the danger, the show of skill and ability from the otters, overcoming the valiant defenses of the terns. It was almost as if a drama, a play, but with the visceral realities of life on full display. Truly, a remarkable experience, the sort of moment that reminds me why I choose fieldwork and in the field studies over dusty tomes every time.
Quite gruesome they are! And at 35 kgs, almost as heavy as me… XD scary!