We ran out of cool adaptations

Epimetheus: Behold! My labor’s final fruitation
The task given to us by our master
Duly performed with precision and grace
A mastery of form and performance;
What you see before you, sprawling outwards
Is a testament to Zeus’s power
Behold, the roaming creatures of the earth
How I, from the largest to the smallest
Equipped each one to sustain the other
Marvel at their fierceness and strength, how each
Is attuned with their environment
Behold, how the fish, with glib ease
Glides eloquently through the water’s flow
Do you see the winged beauties in the air
I fashioned their wings that lift them
With craft and cunning I drew from Gaea
Shaping their talons from the twigs she birthed
The celestial harmonies I used
To endoweth them with their beauteous songs
That now fill this gaping expansiveness
Indeed our master will be most impressed
With my carrying out of his decree

Prometheus: ’Tis indeed a beautiful site to see
But alas, you seem to have forgotten
That the task our master assigned us with
Was two-fold, that while you were fashioning
The multitudinous race of creatures
I was to sculpt not a beast, but a form
The likeness of which was to be called “man”
Who was to sing the god’s praise and glory
But you have rushed ahead, forgetfully
Not knowing of our limited resource
Now, what possible room is there for man
In this hegemony of dominance?
Without fur to protect from bitter frost
Without extrabodily strength to fend
Without speed or agility to flee
My creation will be uncreated
And all our labors will amount to naught

Epimetheus: Truest words, in my shortsightedness
I have siphoned up all resources
I think I'll go kill myself now