Tarantasio

Lake Gerundo

Tarantasio of Lake Gerundo

At dusk, Lake Gerundo lay flat and black, while pale bubbles climbed through the reeds.

Fishermen held their oars still because every ring on the surface widened by itself.

Then one ripple pushed against the boat, as if something below had found them first.

The Lake Breathes

Beneath that rocking boat, Tarantasio moved like a buried storm, long coils sliding under the hull.

When Tarantasio surfaced, the boat lurched sideways, and birds burst from the marsh in a single wave.

Only a thick sour breath rolled after Tarantasio, carrying the marsh stink all the way to the village fires.

The Name Below

That sour wind reached the cottages before sunrise, and doors shut all around Lake Gerundo.

Lanterns trembled in window glass, and rough coughs rose behind the walls.

Then the first light turned every face toward the lake.

Where Tarantasio had roared, the marsh only breathed foul gas through silver mist.

The Sour Wind

In the cold light, Lake Gerundo looked less haunted and more sick.

Still, the broken boat rocked alone, and no fisherman stepped near the reeds.

The villagers watched the bubbles rise and gave the danger a shape they could fear.

Even now, when dark water stirs at dusk, the black surface whispers Tarantasio.

The Old Name

Tarantasio of Lake Gerundo
By Pandi
2026
The Lake Breathes
What rises when a lake starts breathing?
At dusk, Lake Gerundo lay flat and black, while pale bubbles climbed through the reeds.
Fishermen held their oars still because every ring on the surface widened by itself.
Then one ripple pushed against the boat, as if something below had found them first.
The Name Below
Beneath that rocking boat, Tarantasio moved like a buried storm, long coils sliding under the hull.
When Tarantasio surfaced, the boat lurched sideways, and birds burst from the marsh in a single wave.
The nets drifted away untouched.
Only a thick sour breath rolled after Tarantasio, carrying the marsh stink all the way to the village fires.
The Sour Wind
That sour wind reached the cottages before sunrise, and doors shut all around Lake Gerundo.
Lanterns trembled in window glass, and rough coughs rose behind the walls.
Then the first light turned every face toward the lake.
Where Tarantasio had roared, the marsh only breathed foul gas through silver mist.
The Old Name
In the cold light, Lake Gerundo looked less haunted and more sick.
Still, the broken boat rocked alone, and no fisherman stepped near the reeds.
The villagers watched the bubbles rise and gave the danger a shape they could fear.
Even now, when dark water stirs at dusk, the black surface whispers Tarantasio.

The Dragon Tarantasio: The Monster of Lake Gerundo - Story Book

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