Although Fiddleheads are uniformly blind and pink
when they are first born, they are soon covered
with a fine furry down from the top of their head to the soles of their feet.
Within a month, faint markings can be seen on their bellies and limbs.
These amber markings soon darken into umber stripes.
Their hands are very small and easily bruised and, later in life,
often become arthritic and stiff.

Both hands, clasped,
could fit into a circle the size of a dime.
However, the strangest thing about them is that they are headless.
The nape simply continues onward, as if someone has forgotten
to put the cap back on the toothpaste. Beneath the fur,
the skin turns from tan to a soft fleshy pink.
The skin is translucent with veins running through it,
moist as a dog's nose.

This extended neck is a large fleshy appendage
that curls in upon itself much like the body of a hermit crab or--if you peel the shell off a snail--
that part that was never meant to be seen or aired.

Now even though these creatures have no nose, no eyes, no ears or mouth,
they can sense the entire world through vibrations,
and smell through the pores that dot the surface.
And because this appendage is all wrapped up
upon itself, it looks like a fiddle.
And that is how these creatures came to be called fiddleheads.

The Adventure itself.