A squishy little creature.
<aside>
You push open the door, plastered with request forms. The room isn't large, but it's cluttered with disorganized stacks of documents, maps, and sticky notes — the kind of chaotic scene one might expect inside the mind of an overworked clerk.Amidst this papery chaos, a small, round dumbo octopus glides lazily across the piles — its soft fins gently flapping like it's floating underwater.
The moment you step inside, a pair of glassy, bead-like eyes snap toward you. The little creature has clearly noticed your presence.
It begins making its way toward you with determined effort, each tiny tentacle landing on the paper with a gentle "plap, plap". When it finally reaches your feet, it quickly snatches up a sheet of paper, grabs a pen with surprising finesse, and scribbles a note at impressive speed:
"If you're really worried about your commission progress, feel free to message me! I don't eat humans…"
the octopus gives a satisfied little wave of one tentacle — maybe a greeting.
</aside>