The creatures of the swamp cowered in fear in their dens, hiding from its sight in the dark of the shade in futile hope its piercing gaze would not find them, burrowing into the earth in shallow tunnels where he could not reach unless he put one of its incredibly dexterous claws to the task of digging, flying in the air in the belief that they would be out of the reach of its incredible tongue which could snatch them from the air like its lesser cousins would catch flies. Yes, they had much to fear, for the sload only emerged from its watery home to feed or to die.