Welcome to Scribe Safari, a literary watering hole where the animals do the people-watching.

Born from the peculiar cerebrum of one Mike the Homosapien—who, incidentally, still hasn’t evolved past yard duty—it’s a place where owls wax philosophical, goats growl about the decline of civilization, and flies spill secrets from the wallpaper trenches. The idea? Simple as a hiccup in church: If we share this blue marble with a menagerie of fur, feather, fang, and ectoplasm… maybe it’s time we let them have the mic.

While humans binge on docuseries about penguin fidelity and hyena giggles, the animals have been watching us right back. And brother, do they have notes?

Scribe Safari is where creatures great, small, and occasionally supernatural howl into the digital void about the marvels and idiocies of the human experiment. Love, power, trash collection, online dating, war, brunch—no subject is too sacred, no toenail fungus too trivial.

Yes, Mike technically runs the joint. But he’s currently elbows-deep in cat litter and negotiating with a goat who refuses to pay rent. So you tell me—who’s in charge?

Grab a branch, a perch, or a cozy corner of existential dread. The animals are talking. And for once, it might be worth listening.