A spongey guy. He absorbs anything liquid, regardless of temperature or viscosity. Relatively indestructible. Dries out and shrivels up if nothing is absorbed. Doesn't die of dehydration, can be rehydrated, but can die by other means (e.g. dismemberment).

The size of a man, but all stretched out. Incredible vision with all his spidery eyes. Like a sasquatch spider, he lives solitarily in the woods. Crosses long distances disturbingly fast. You've barely turned around to run before his hand is on your shoulder. Eats you with his jaggedy teeth.

Is inflated by something and holding it in. Its form is a thick rubbery skin. As a defense mechanism, it deflates (with a loud comical sound). When deflated, it lays on the ground like a fried egg, and scooches ineffectively. When inflated well, it's quite bouncy, and gets around by doing so.

Basically hollow. Undetectable. Doesn't reflect light, heat, sound or anything that could cause it to show up on a scanner. Put just about anything inside of it to transport it undetected. Up to you how you get that done. About as big as a chonky racoon. Since you won't find one on your own, you'll have to lure one to you with its favorite food. Figure out what that is and you can coax the shy creature out and even train it to move between locations.

Walks on all its little toes. Eats psychic energy. Docile most of the time, but might read the thoughts that he receives as he consumes them, often reciting them as part of the digestive process. Likes to be in office buildings and places with lots of brains, or around people who are constantly overthinking. Corporate approved.

Absorbs psychic energy, and releases it in little spore-ball puffs to pollenate. When inhaled, you vividly experience the thought or feeling that was captured. Excellent in a writer's room or anywhere you want to circulate thoughts.

They molt their petals when they are ready to mate. they have a sweet scent and make a colorful trail to find one another. Curious little guys that will find ways to help and interact in the kitchen. Very tameable. They tuck into the soil to sleep, with only their head sticking out.

Eats things that would pollenate it. The green part gets very large. Other faces pop out when it gets big enough. Size varies by environment, but on average they're on the smaller side.

A living mycelial mass from which fungi sprout that give him various capabilities - eye stalks, voracious mouths, whatever is needed. Could become friend or foe by turns, depending on the environment and what's available to it.

Flies from place to place. Roots, photosynthesizes, eats, traps little critters in its sticky tentacles - it eats in so many different ways! To boot, all the little bits of it glow different ways to attract different prey.

Grows incredibly huge. Resembles a land mass that's big enough to settle on, or wander into without knowing you risk being eaten. Floats on the surface of large bodies of water.

Highly intelligent predator. Inflates its bubble to float. Gets weighed down when it eats, then inflates its bubble with the resulting gas. Raccoon sized. Barbs on the ends of its tentacles deliver paralytic toxin. Slimy. Gloops itself to the ground.

Extends its body like a snake, becoming prehensile. Fluffy tail whirls about for balance. Each section of its body makes a different tone as it extends, creating musical patterns as it accordions different parts of its body. When it hears sounds, it sees color. It does not have traditional sight. Extends its body to climb around, foraging for food. When xetro are interacting or seeking mates, a symphony of beautiful hollow tones can be heard. The size of a large lizard.

Grazing animal. Large enough to saddle and ride like a camel. Its antennae are used for radiolocation, providing a signal that bounces around its environment and gets picked up by its dish-eyes to detect the world around it. Super soft. Lifts its tufted tail over you to give you shade while you ride.

Can swim. Can snake. Biphibious. Vampire. Fascinates prey with its hypnotic eyes.

An ooze/slime. Way more terrifying than it looks. Touch him and your flesh dissolves. Viscosity of outer coating can be softened at will to let a substance touch its highly acidic insides.

Drags itself along the ground picking up insects with its tongue. Might have mucus like a snail.

A caterpillar that grows a mushroom over its head rather than metamorphosizing, gaining insights. One might seek to gain their wisdom, but risk their lives, as it is voracious as long as its mushroom is developing. At the point that it reaches a state of metabolic equilibrium, its mushroom casting a penumbral glow, it has only love and good vibes and no longer needs to eat; but while it is growing its hunger still overpowers all other impulses.

A natural groomer of the landscape. Naturally trims bushes to sculpt topiaries, leaving its mark. Sees into the 4th dimension and somehow trims local vegetation into magnificent non-euclidian shapes that seem impossible. Devours the clippings. Horse-sized. Encountering the shapes that they make in your natural environment can deal sanity damage or get you lost.

Pity creature. Survives purely on the good will of others. Birds will sometimes throw things into this thing's mouth, a squirrel might store some nuts in there. Its tongue and teeth are essentially useless. It molts in a revolting way, shedding entire chunks of its skin at once. It's safest not to touch these, as they usually carry disease - which he's entirely immune to, and so the pathogens live happily on him.

Emits a frequency so you can never really see it/look right at it? Is one here or gnot? maybe it disrupts other signals - blocks signals of all kinds. emits interference signals just to annoy you! vaguely interferes with everything! oddly enough, if you have trouble concentrating usually, this thing can help. but that's probably only happening if someone near you is suffering, because the gnot won't bother unless it gets to annoy someone.

They collect various vibe experiences that manifest the patterns on their skin. They are attracted to music and will seek out experiences that give them a variety of unique markings. The more varied their markings the more desirable. Some kind of tie in here with light and sound frequencies depending how it vibes. Avoids scrutiny. A being of abstraction. The more soul is in the music it listens to, the healthier it is. The more artificial, overproduced or auto-generated it is, the more it acts like junk food - and you can tell it's harshing their mellow. Stands just a few feet tall. Defies scientific study as it seems to exist by 'vibes' rather than set rules or biology or physics. Displays vastly different capabilities in different acoustic environments. You'd probably spot one at a drewdlebug party. Tattoos are like visualizers? Photosynthesizing with vibe checks.

Cosmically divine creature that was created to generate all the matter that could be cosmically conceived of! They compound base elements by conceiving of them, which aggregate into deposits that they keep or discard depending on whether they liked how they turn out. In the void where anything is possible, materials that could be found nowhere else continue to be formed from sheer imagination. If you bring them into a dimension where the available types of matter are already settled, it will only make what can already be found there. One could be compelled to generate useful materials this way, but these creatures are quite rare, and they are extra gloomy when trapped. A transactional relationship is kind of impossible since there isn't anything they want in exchange for creating. They're happiest in the void, where they can freely make whatever they dream up, whether it's useful or not.
They get gloomy because nobody really gets them, and it's hard to find anyone to appreciate what they've created, but they have to give up what they have created to create something new, and creating is the only thing that satisfies them. Manic-depressive creative type. About the size of your average dungeon slime.

It's basically just a hairy eyeball. Never blinks; rolls eyeball around to moisten it. Eats whatever little things get caught in its eyelash-hairs, or whatever condensates on it, just by absorption. Gets kind of gross and slimy; you wouldn't want to touch it. Doesn't eat much; very passive. Dwells in the dark, where it sees very clearly. Goes through molting cycles that leave it naked and vulnerable for a time as it grows. Variable size depending on the food supply available. Doesn't need to breathe; can absorb everything it needs through its skin, so it can live underwater too. Slimy, not very tasty (mostly eyeball).

Amphibious. mostly lives in the water, but can scuttle around and jump. Aggressively carnivorous. Various sizes as you'd expect from a turtle. Paddles gracefully with its long fins, but these also have sharp edges that can - and will- be used to stab or chop. It'll shank the shit out of you. Clamps onto you with its teeth and little legs and injects a compound that dissolves your insides. The same compound also forms gems in their shells called Shankite, which are highly durable and amplifies light, and if you can pry them out you have a prize. You'll want to go for the big ones, but the bigger they are the more dangerous. You'd be super lucky to find the discarded shell of a dead one.

Sees with its eyedrums that pick up vibrations when it cracks its tufted tail-whips. They ululate to one another, a piercing call that can cover long distances. They'll call if alarmed, or when they are coming out or going in for the night. They are crepuscular grazers, preferring to come out when traditionally sighted creatures are less likely to see them. Not dangerous, but those whips will get you good if they need to stop you getting too close.

A feature-packed apex predator. Flies, crawls, swims - with twitchy, twisting motions, it is hightly maneuverable and can go anywhere. Needs to eat constantly to maintain all of its faculties. Embulficates to aid its buoyancy in the air as it flies. Its green appendages help balance its weight as it inflates, deflates, dives, and squelches. Tiny wings somehow change the direction of its bear-sized bulk on a dime. Its long, dextrous tongue is prehensile. Its jagged teeth rip prey to shreds, without much care to chew; anything it swallows will be inevitably embulficated.

The goop it carries on its head turns anything edible when dipped into it. The void sauce literally morphs anything into a food. He dips whatever, then slurps the insides of it out like a vampire. Grazes on stuff, mostly stuff that wouldn't otherwise be food, but if you get in its way and it's easy to get you it might eat you; just scurry away and toss him something else. About four feet tall and squarish in stature. Whatever you dip tastes like the sauce, whatever that tastes like.

Hunts eggs. Uses its psychokinetic drill eyes (we think) to drill into any material with the goal of coming up under a nest, latching onto eggs and slurping out their insides. Deals structural damage as a matter of course. Will suck any kind of egg. Will bore through anything to get them - dirt, rock, wood, flesh, etc.

makes adorable chirps and coos, vibrates gently when pet. its magestic glowing beard makes a soothing night light, and it eats bugs, including spiders, so you can feel safe with one at your bedside. long tongue flicks out to catch insects. eyes don't always look in the same direction. high value item for children. do they come in different colors?

Tongues in its mouths reach out and wrap around prey to bring it in. Uses its dish-stalk to pick up electromagnetic signals in the air that lead it to prey. Walks into the water and stands waiting, mouths poised to breach the surface and extend their long sticky tongues.

Surprisingly motile! Undulates in all directions and hops around. Very energetic and excitable. Mutters to itself ceaselessly in what seems to be a senseless babble. Aggressive predator, however. When its eyes are all fixed in the same direction, it's probably on prey - so if they're all looking at you, get out of there. Of course it's not of a singular mind, and can't always agree with itself on what it should be chasing given more than one option. Best to have safety in numbers. You might even see it trying to bite and wrestle itself. Uses its whole body for momentum when it can agree on where to go.

Follows the currents of cultural change. It's unclear if they are drawn to the change or if they bring it. You might see one in your dreams or out of the corner of your eye if your life is undergoing big changes, but if the satoa gather, there is change in the air at large - major cultural shifts, revolutions, creative inspiration sweeping through. They seem to ride the waves of zeitgeist. Shy and don't like to be spotted. If you can make it to the place where thots go, you'll see streams of them in the distance, the big-picture network of everything moving through culture everywhere. But you'll forget by the time you get back what any of it meant. They are very shy and don't like to know you're observing them. Mystics read them like tea leaves.

What appears to be the creature is just the fruiting body of a fungal horror. It sends its mycelial tendrils deep underground, building a broad network that seeks any host of which just enough is left to infect and fruit from. The little tentacles (eepers) detach and worm out to search for prey. They infect the prey (eep-walkers), which drags itself back to the mother/host where they lay down to die, becoming the seeds of new spawn. Before you reach the host there's a chance to extract the parasite, but by the time you lay down it's too late.
Burn it with fire. Did you really get it all, or was there still a nest hidden somewhere? All happens in the span of one horrific night. late. Grows as big as a person.

Grows legs underground, then comes up and walks around until it finds a good spot and nuzzles down again. Migrates during the day, then brings out their glowing stalks at dusk to attract nocturnal pollinators. Nights are beautiful during phosfloris season.

Squelches along with its fleshy pods (vestigial feet?) About the size of a midsize snake. Moves backward, pulling its head along, usuall with its mouth open and leaving a deposit of slime wherever it goes, licking all around to scavenge whatever it can. Eats mostly already dead things. If it climbs up on a large dead thing, it will try to get a suction hold on it with it mouth and slurp at it with its tongue until it dissolves. If the slime is left to sit on anything for long, it will start to dissolve it. Can't move very fast.

Wherever they happen to be, they can see a little bit back in time, and try to put things "back as they were." This could mean a flock of them try to put your house back together after a hurricane, or that they tear down a bridge that was just built. When you want to build something near them, you might want to distract them with some other change to the local environment first. From small scale to large (moving your coffee cup back a few inches as they pass by, put all your hanging laundry back in the basket). About the size of a large owl. They build beautiful and elaborate nests. A little clumsy with large things, they try to work together. Social creatures. they glow in the dark to light their own way. You might just build something to get them to show up because they're nice to look at.

Comes and nibbles the old dead crusty stuff off your energy. A big fat bug like guy. Benign and kinda angelic. Little swarms of them are attracted to messed-up auras. Invisible to anyone who can't see auras (so most people).

Drag-slithers around. Faster than it looks. Uses its claw to tear chunks off its food and stuff them in its mouth, and maybe a bit for mobility. Hides and waits to strike prey with its paralyzing envenomed tail. The venom turns its victim inside out. Its body looks blue in direct light, but in dim light it is hard to focus on, and reflects all the colors around it to create a camoflage effect.

Large like a cow, walks very slow. Prehensile tongue that it uses to reach fruit/food from trees. Makes no sounds but wildly waggles its tongue as a mating dance to signal other squarks. Large poultry/cattle, could raise in large groups/flocks?

Coffee cup sized, suction-cups on to a diverse type of environment. Filter feed through their fur coats - fur that comes in a variety of different bright colors! Can be kept as a pet, self cleaning, feed it by petting it and it cleans your hands. A little squishy. Friendly. Very adaptive. Enjoy being played with, even tossed in a game of getting them to suction to things - Floosh Ball! Low grade plasmoidluminsecence gives it a glow!

The node on top of its head creates its own evironment through which it swims - swimming through the air, or water, or wherever. Very large. Dangerous predator, hungry for meat, also friendly and can be befriended. An epic mount to ride if you are dedicated to the friendship. Very rare to see, a creature of legend. If you encounter one and manage to tame it, it's a "frending" awnadon.

Produces voidsilk, a completely undetectable thread! (we promise it's there)

Floral psychic jelly. Will turn your brain into jelly. GG. Probably tastes good but hard to get close without turning your brain into jelly. Blooms unpredictably. Extremely dangerous. You can block out the frequency with the right equipment - say, a robust tin foil hat. Lives in water.

Two-legged, hairless, bipedal, multi-eyed housepet. Short and long-lashed breeds available. Sees the background radiation throughout all of existence, and the messages within. Eats from the infrared spectrum. Feed it by pointing your TV remote at it! Only as dangerous as it is to know the will of the cosmic background radiation, or to remove infrared from your local spectrum. Probably fine. Don't feed it blue lasers, it can get sick :( Skips around, very playful.

Horse-sized. Excellent respiration with lots of stamina for carrying and pulling heavy things. To ride, equip it with a badonka-donk (saddle).

Leathery carapace, but a little fuzzy underneath, with a beak. Pecks at the ground for bugs and seeds to eat. Strong enough to hold a lot of weight. Antennae pick up signs of danger, and emit signals that cause brain fog for things that it thinks are hostile. Makes cute chirping birdlike noises. Becoming close to these creatures, you pick up the signs and signals for when they sense danger.

Pollenator-ator. Attracts pollinating creatures to steal the pollen they have gathered, which it slurps up with its proboscis mouth. The size of a large bird. Wings make chittering, clickety noises.

Stands very still and looks like a mushroom, until you get too close. Can hear how healthy the plants are. Roots its mycelium into the soil around struggling plants and consumes their nutrients. Great garden buddy if you can befriend them; will cull the weak plants from your garden. Plural: myfrella.

As he grows, he grows body segments with pairs of legs. A baby jork starts with just 2 legs. Stare at a jork too long, and it stops making sense - and soon so does everything around it. Staring at a jork can cause hallucinations, commonly the perception that it has enormous wings. This is when it makes its escape, which it can't do quickly, so it relies on your confusion. Its front will start wandering away from its hind-sections like an inchworm. There is no limit to the number of leg segments it can grow, until it dies. A jork can establish a boundary, and mating competition consists of trying to cut one another off. A jork cannot cross another; any jork that crosses another jork's path simply lays down and dies. You wouldn't know it but they are brilliant strategists - you just need to watch them for a bit to perceive it. Surrounds its prey; might take a while. Don't get caught in a jork circle though - there is no way out. You will just lay down and die, and be devoured - somehow. We don't know how. We tried putting cameras in there and they just saw colors.

About the size of a human head. Gives haircuts! Saliva works like hair gel and also helps it catch stray bits of hair, which it eats. Trims hair and fur wherever it can find it. Natural aesthetic sense - he can look at you and see what style would look best on you. It's not aggressive, but it could really mess you up if it wanted to. Happy to just be a mop at the barbershop.

Lorius a vorialis. Stores memories in its tails. Grows more tails the more it remembers. The older ones have more tails and thus more stories to tell. The creature feeds on the stories - or you, so if you can't feed him a good story or something novel to remember, he will likely eat you instead. You can come to it seeking to store information, but once given to the lorevore, it's gone from your mind. Whatever it remembers becomes part of the great Story of All, forever for all of time. It will tell you a story in exchange for a great sacrifice. Those who want their legacy preserved before they fade into obscurity, for better or worse. The Great Story of All, known to some as the mythos, is accessible at a collective unconscious level.

Eats berries! This creature loves to eat voidberries, but not in the way voidberries want to be eaten. There's no spreading the love of voidberries here. Dead end. Can eat any berry and never suffers any ill effects. Super stretchy and flexible neck to help them reach high-up berries. Very soft when clean. Seems like a great guy. Oops, all Barrys! Fur is thick and gets really bad static cling, making him annoying to eat. Skin underneath is super tough to prevent the bramble from getting to him. Often covered in twigs and burrs and such. Tends to grow up to a few feet tall.

Senses fear. The scarier it is, the more easily it can hunt. Learn as much as you can about it; if you don't fear it, it won't harm you. If you can't get over the fear, your best bet is to get it close to something more afraid than you are. Makes low growls and clicking-clacking noises. Hunts in a dramatic fashion, so as to hype up the fear. Hunts through the fear of them that is spread by those who have heard. Don't tell your friends!

Primordial ooze, specializing in danger. One of two voidlings needed to provide organ components for a celestial ooze to form a zygote and birth a new universe.
Formed in the void from the residual goo that collected in the crevices of creation. Propels itself with its vibrant flagellum. Its whiplike noodly appendages are always shooting out in all directions grabbing little things to eat and tucking them in its toothy little maw. An agile void predator, adept at maneuvering and hunting specifically in the void. Needs to eat some of everything in order to mature: the strong, the weak, the weird, the normal - all manners of biota. Leaves an eerie, lifeless void in the void where it has hunted.
It can get so large that you wouldn't even know that you were near it by the time you were consumed.

Its eyes look black because they are absorbing all light that shines into them, which is how it sees. Roots connect to the mycelial network system of a forest, becoming its scion and giving a voice to the forest for anyone willing to sit long patiently while it makes a physical mycelial connection with them. You can ask about the health of the forest, the water table, hunting areas, where things are built or buried, etc. Judges your intentions by how well they are aligned with the best interests of the forest. It will detect your presence long before you find it, and will not reveal itself easily to somene it doesn't want to help. The cute part is just is fruiting body; once it is well rooted into a forest, it can grow back if harmed, which an ill-natured being might well do if its advances are rejected. Getting kicked out of the network once you've connected kinda hurts. Leaves a little fairy circle if it decides to decompose and go sprout somewhere else.

All its parts move independently and collectively. No central brain, just vaguely coordinated parts. Doesn't move often. Tail blooms like a lilac, very fragrant, attracting insects that get stuck to the viscous goop that hangs from its mushroom-cap. At night, the glue glows, attracting nocturnal prey and pollinators. Can excrete and retract the goop. Maybe it has a lizard-like tongue, but that tongue has a hand, so it can tend to itself and retrieve bugs from the built-in flypaper to eat. Carnivorous plant-mushroom. Mushroom-cap can be harvested for its sticky glue-like goop, and it will regrow. Very nearsighted, as it never needs to look far beyond its own cap. After it blooms, its flower pods drop seeds that birth its larvae. Never sleeps. We're not even sure if it blinks.

Furry shell, two little legs for crawling and digging. Senses tremors in the ground; useful for finding anything from little worms wiggling in the ground that it would eat, to impending earthquakes. Very shy. Shells up at any sign of threat or unexpected visitation. Grows on fluffernut trees. The nuts fall, the critter crawls out and forages until it grows big enough to burrow and grow a new tree, somewhere between the size of a walnut and a coconut.

Carnivorous plant. Gets nutrients from the ground as well as eating. Very agile; though it is rooted in place it can spring out and stretch farther than you might think. Can get big enough to eat people. Changes color to blend into its environment, and hypnotizes prey by changing color rapidly, with its spots moving around and shifting colors, flickering its headfeathers and winding its body with snakelike twists. Strikes very quickly. Sees in all light levels perfectly. Has a territory that extends to the edge of its reach. Grows to the size of available prey.

Many of them flock together; the soft, feathery thrumming of their many wings. Prefers cold environments. Carves into ice with its rock-solid mandibles, boring into icy cliffsides and creating nests of many tunnels akin to ice termites. Their white wings blend in so well that you might not even notice a host of them until you disturb it, and they all take flight. Their antennae help them navigate in blinding snowstorms, so that they can always return home no matter the conditions. They can be trained as homing creatures; a cerabim will always get you home.

Primordial ooze, specializing in vibe. One of two voidlings needed to provide organ components for a celestial ooze to form a zygote and birth a new universe.
Can see in all spectrums. Spends its life observing everything it can, in all possible planes, constantly absorbing. It soaks up vibes and integrates them, from barely detectable to overwhelmingly strong, and needs to experience some of everything in order to mature. Creatures from whom vibe has been absorbed cease to vibe. They lose their connection to their environment, other creatures, and any special capabilities that their vibrational awareness lent them. A vibeless creature becomes isolated, paranoid, and visibly agitated. Nothing they attempt quite works out.
It can get so large that you wouldn't even know that you were near it by the time you were consumed.
Leaves a haunting, vibeless void in the void where it has hunted.

Its singular advantage is its ultra-prehensile, precisely articulated tentacle appendage, which is incredibly strong. The rest of it leaves much to be desired, from its jagged teeth to its stumpy feet. With an earnest and cheerful disposition, they have formed a social intelligence that enables them to work together to hunt and defend themselves. More appendages are better than one! Not picky about what it hunts, just wants meat, and that might as well be you. He might look so excited and happy to see you - but he's probably just happy to eat you. Sees something and goes BAH! About as tall as a small person.

Dense, heavy, stompy! Shakes the ground when it jumps and stomps; whomps with its tail to knock things out of trees and down from high places. Communicates with others of its kind via stomping and whomping patterns, like bee dances. The size of a large dog but rock solid.

Terrible eyesight. Its forehead bump is a sensory organ that it bonks into things to learn about them. It senses all kinds of things about you - your most embarrassing memory, your email address, your favorite color - but it has not use for any of that information, since it's really just looking for food. It knows what every plant, rock, and fish is thinking, and can't help but run into truly sentient beings from time to time. As a consequence, it always knows too much, and is overwhelmed by the knowing of it all, leaving it somewhat traumatized and embarassed. Should it run into anything that's thinking much too much, it can become temporarily incapacitated. If you think of yourself as prey, it will probably try to eat you, because that's all it has to go on.
Because it's so bad at seeing, it mostly crawls along the ground. Its pink pig-like nose is devoid of scales simply because it's always getting rubbed on things as it bumps into everything to feel its way around. If it runs into another of its species and touches noses as well as forehead bumps with them, protein strands are exchanged and each one of them lays an egg.

Super lightweight and bouncy, like an inflatable ride-on. Slurps up exotic gases through its belly button, and becomes even more buoyant. Probably incredibly toxic if you cut one open, owing to the complex chemical processes going on in there. Has no mouth. Can vent noxious gases out through its nostrils at will in self-defense. Can be ridden by children or adults; doesn't mind. Grab onto his pointy head and bounce!

Filter-feeder. Inhales through baleen to feed on particles in the air. A "hoofler orb" forms inside it, getting larger the older the creature is. Looks intimidating, but has a soft, rubbery body. Clomps around slowly. The spines and their coloration can indicate something about the status of the orb that is forming, if you know what to look for. There's a wide variety of these that produce different "hoofler orbs", and they can be b red for particular patterns and composition.

They come in pairs! If one of them dies, the other loses its purpose and withers away. If you get in between them, you get caught up in their connection and get bombarded with whatever they were thinking together, which can be very disorienting for all involved if they weren't expecting it. They do it on purpose though, to disorient and gang up on prey. They get annoyed the longer you stay there, unless you can distract them with something. If they get unpaired (e.g. by something that blocks signal super well going in between), re-pair them as soon as possible by holding down their tongues for 3 seconds (careful, you might get bit).

Super stretchy space worms. Serious pests for space miners. They eat like snakes, but with faster digestion as their internal plasma strips rocks and alloys down to their base elements. They hang out in the tidal zones of space, in "tide pools" where debris gathers (outside planets' atmospheres, in asteroid belts, planetary rings, etc), scavenging for metals and minerals. They grab onto things with their mouth-end and pull themselves around. If you've spotted a sqwoo, they're surely not alone - there's a squiggle of sqwoos nearby! They're easy to scare off if confronted, but left to their own devices a scavenging squiggle of sqwoos will scuttle your spacecraft. If a ship is in need of repairs, one might say you had a few sqwoos loose! If you are beset by these things while out in space, you're sqwoo'd...

Travels the universe in search of hugs, especially seeking the best hugs. They give incredible hugs, warm and soft and comforting, but they must be reciprocated. Reject a hug and acquire bad karma on a cosmic scale. Hugging charges their strange blue energy. Incredibly rare and auspicious experience, akin to a blessing. Big, marshmallowy soft bodies that are perfect for hugging. They loft around slowly, swishing their tails to move about. When a good enough hug charges them up with enough strange blue energy they become inspired to undergo mitosis and produce a baby (mipsqueak). This is an incredibly rare and fulfilling experience, to know that their very being is connected to your unique hug energy. They bring along their babies to practice hugging for a few hundred years and then they go their own way. A mip is otherwise a solitary creature.

Adolescent larval gluecap. It'll sprout its own cap and blossoms some day, but until it can catch bugs itself, it lives the life of a little bug-creature - a lifetime even, as they spend quite a long time in this form before suddenly undergoing a rapid and thorough transformation during which it gains its cap and blossom, but loses some traits (e.g. its special eyesight, or the acne on its belly that it now crawls on). Lives mostly in the soil, burrowing around to stay hidden and find food. Feeds on seeds and protein-rich discarded insect bits in the soil, particularly cone-shaped bits. The glue that will eventually seep from its cap is present in another form, as a mobility aid; it can climb up surfaces and feed on things that get stuck in its trail. The catalyst to its transformation is an astrological alignment of some kind, though it's entirely unaware of this.

Super psychic. Mind reading, telekenesis, talking to the dead, dreamwalking, you name it. Floats itself around. Has antennaes in proportion to the types of psychic powers it strengthens (e.g. kinetic, spiritual, metaphysical...) Baseline motivation is entirely pragmatic to its own survival. Not sentient, doesn't form societies, just satisfies its base needs and urges. A bit hedonistic in this way. Takes what it wants, changes the environment to suit its immediate needs. Super powerful, super intelligent, but doesn't care to do anything high-minded with that. If you see a pair of them staring intently at one another, they could either be mating, or psychically contending with one another on some other plane of existence. Extreme loners otherwise. Very dangerous by proxy: immense power and lack of regard for other living things creates unpredictable levels of chaos around them.

Underwater pollinators. Bee-sized. Sticky little legs. What look like ears are more like fins that they use to swim about. Lives in hives that are underwater pools of heavier liquid, which they create by bringing home bits of material on their legs; they clean themselves in their little pools, and go out again. The liquid is somewhat acidic and dissolves the matter they bring back. In the process of gathering what they need, they bring detritus to and fro, which other plants and animals relieve them of so the are left with only what they want at the end of the day. They can be a bit quarrelsome with one another, contending for resources (slapping each other with sticky little arms, poking each other in the giant eye), but at the end of the day a quarrel of quirls all return to the same quirlpool. The queen of the quarrel in the quirlpool never leaves. She uses the nutrients in the quirl soup to produce more quirl (all the little eyeballs in her face pop out as new quirl). The queen defends the hive with the terrifying eye-spots on her wings.

A 4th-dimensional creature that paints the colors that shine when a light source crests a horizon anywhere in the third dimension. A flock of them paint a beautiful sunrise or sunset, twilight shimmer or ambient glow. Comes in a variety of colors. Moves really fast (from our perspective); time is not a concern for them in the 4th dimension, and we only see the effects they have on our dimension. Their only aim is to create the most beautiful sunset. Their square eye can focus on the third dimension to see what their flight has wrought.

Neckless thing. Thing with too few necks, but too many mouths and eyes. It pulls prey in with its tongue; then it bites down, and its inner row of uper teeth drags chunks backward into its throat to swallow them. Ambush predator. Burrows into the ground and hides just beneath your feet, waiting to pop out and grab you. Bear sized. What look like eyes are actually squishy sensors for vibration that it rubs around underground to sense where things are. Super stable stance to pull in heavy creatures and rip off chunks. Doesn't bite its own tongue thanks to the gap between its teeth. Vulnerable when exposed- large and blind. Slightly fuzzy hide, like a mole. Potato-bear, colloquially.

Actually a plant. Its tentacle arms grow and stretch out in many directions, creating a visual network throughout its habitat. It's not carnivorous at all - is toothy mouth is just there to protect something laid within its soft, protective mouth-nest. You can put something in and it will clamp down like a safe; only you can take it back out. Some tentacles stick underground to root and reproduce from the eye sockets, while others stick out in all directions above ground to create its vision network. Should it detect a threat, its red eyes can have one of many effects on you - liquefying you, shooting a laser hole in you, teleporting you somewhere, or - if you make direct eye contact - turning you to stone. Cultivate one with a drop of your own blood and it will only store things for you (making it quite dangerous to others). If you catch one asleep and wake it, the display of all its eyes opening at once will drop your stomach to the floor.

Clever and quick. Rare and hard to catch - but if you manage it, they'll grant you one wish. The fur around its head is super hydrophobic. Curious little guys that will follow and observe you, but are very good at evading your grasp. A little blue circle from its body disappears every time a wish is granted, but only one per person. When it's out of rings it withers away. A yowo with many rings is bright and spunky; one with few is lethargic and sad.
The wish you get is the one you're focusing on when you touch it. If a predator touches it, the wish of the predator is granted - perhaps in a way it might not have anticipated - and hopefully in a way that gets the yowo out of danger. Catch it without touching it and you can take the time to think about what you want, but be careful what you wish for... it can be wishy-washy.
Doesn't work on high-level cultists who want for nothing, of course.

Little chinchilla-sized critters that come out into open areas at night to frolick and entice mates. The colors in its fur swirl to dazzle, and can hypnotize what is perceived as a threat. Domesticable! Can catch a beat and let their colors dance to music. Very fluffy, very light. Likes the dark; dwells in caves where their little arms cling to the rocks. Can go into dark mode to hide and blend in with the rocks. Boring and grey unless they're active.

Ghost goblin doggo! Variably dog-sized. Made of ectoplasm. Forms from the leftover bits of ghosts. Eats bats and rats and similar things you find out at night or around the dead; scavenges to eat just about anything, including the flowers left on graves (so that's where those go!) Sharpens its teeth on gravestones, which makes a terrifying sound that sends late-night gravewalkers running - but he's just a friendly lil guy. Throw him a bone! Can be trained and befriended. Has a penchant for chasing ghosts, which makes his behavior appear erratic. Ethereally territorial. Befriend him in life and in death you'll have a buddy. Opacity is tied to moonlight; solidifies during a full moon; other times they are more translucent or even invisible, but it's just as physically present and capable of interacting with physical things (like your flesh - or treats!). Makes snuffly snorting noises. Surprisingly deep woof. Cannot abide graverobbers.

Elemental terraformers. Nature beings. Shape environments according to their element, temperature and whatnot. Work together to create biomes. Can be born of an enviornment that is purely something (e.g. fire, ice, forest...). Walk around on their pointy little legs. Methodical and precise in their actions. Variably sized; a large one might dominate a biome, and a massive one might be resurfacing a planet. Can break into many small ones to work on details. Their presence is denoted by a ringing in the ears, created by their triangular bodies as they tap up against things they are working on, or by the wind blowing through them. They can take many forms. A blank one placed in a biome becomes attuned to the environment it's in. Can merge together to form complex biomes. From the classic elements to highly specialized attunements (don't let Mr. Voidberry find one of these... are there voidberry planets and voidberry slave colonies somewhere?!). No ill intent; just building healthy biomes. Only as upredictable and dangerous as natural disasters or the eventual overgrowth of an abandoned house. Not aggressive, just doing its thing. Can die if its biome perishes. When it does, its limbs are left behind - the bones of the terraphim - a revered treasure that retains the creature's flaming glow, but without its power. Superstitiously retained as holy symbols to help crops grow, hearths be warmer, rain come, etc.

Plant creature. Carbonates things. Just loves bubbles! Put him in a liquid and he'll carbonate it! Any water-based liquid in his temperature range, which goes from just past frozen to near boiling. Little jelly guy. Contains a complex host of bacteria that result in the carbonation effect. Only releases the carbon gas when in liquid; if left outside of liquid, the retained gas balloons inside it, eventually bursting it - so make sure to keep him in a liquid when you're not using him. Typically the size of a shaker of table salt, but can expand to the size of a basketball before it bursts, creating an explosion of foamy goo that can fill an entire room. Pass the effy! Can I get an effy in that? Likes to hang out in shallow water where it can absorb light.

Wanders the 4th dimension, but can only see in the 3rd. Its tongue can reach into the 3rd dimension to grab things. From our perspective, people just kind of disappear sometimes... no one has a clue what is behind it except for the flash of green. The only way to catch a glimpse of this thing is through a kaleidoscope, but chances are you didn't know what you were looking for and it's too late. If it doesn't like what it gets, it spits it back out. Who knows how big they are; it's kind of irrelevant. It's as big as it needs to be at the time it needs to be it, and it is whenever it needs to be.

Leaves trails in its environment as it eats its way around, grabbing at things with loose lips as its mouth shifts around its midsection to reach for things. Mutters to itself wherever it goes about whatever it has recently heard, like a parrot that picks up on what others are talking about without any understanding; occasionally exclaims at random, so loudly and suddenly that it startles itself and the creatures around it. Sometimes it'll get startled into a low flight, but can barely lift itself high enough to clear a fence. Noks will pick up on topics espoused by others and blather about the same stuff, creating a butt-talk telephone effect.

When something biological dies in the void, these things are the clean-up crew. You might be used to things decaying in your reality, but in the void, nothing breaks down like that. Cue a swarm of daledae, which will latch onto the detritus and break it down, returning that matter back to the raw potential of creation, from which new ideas can be reconstituted elsewhere. If these get out of the void and into a dimension, anything they break down there also becomes void-potential, too.

Fungus creature. Expulses strands of viscous goo and uses its opposable fingers to stick them to things all around it. When things get trapped in the goo, it slurps the strand back in. Grows in dark places where its glow attracts prey, like insects. Grows no bigger than common wild mushrooms on earth. Mostly sits in one place but can kind of scoot around like a slug. Attracted to harsh vibes that act as their mycelium, and increase the potency of its positively-charged goo. A classic sign that something is amiss if an otherwise put-together home is infested with these. Can be cultivated in poor lighting with incessant uncomfortable noises around them; their goo can be collected without killing them, but their fruiting bodies might also be worth harvesting.

About the size of a canadian goose. Retracts its entire body into its shell somehow, except its tail which helicopters around to steer it. Grab its tail to pull it back out! Only flies as a defense mechanism; otherwise it just wanders around grazing. It feeds on light around it with its one large eye, slurping the light in from whatever it looks at. The light eventually returns of course, but while they are eating, a patch of darkness is seen where these roam to the degree that it is pulling light in. When it's not eating, it emits a faint glow. When there is the most light around it, such as during the day time, it meanders on its four short legs while grazing. By night, it retracts into its airborne exoskeleton and flies toward the next largest discernable source of light - such as toward the rising sun's horizon, or a large stadium light. We'd like to understand how they reproduce, but given that they do so in absolute darkness, the science has yet to succeed in any observations.

Their goo makes a 'hole' (in the looney-tunes sense). If you go into the worm-hole, you fall out of another worm's worm-hole. The very process of things going through the worm-holes creates enough energy to satiate the thing. Its teeth work like a key that, when rearranged, can dial in to a destination worm-hole. The slime dries up, so the holes don't last forever. They use the network of worm-holes like an interdimensional nest. You can use it like void uber. The number of teeth required to reach a particular destination might be more or less than a given worm has, so the removal and/or swapping of teeth may be necessary.

Reverse eater! Rather than needing to eat, it needs to un-eat; it expels excess matter in proportion to the things it looks at, while decaying that thing. Scans something, and reconstructs a prior form of that thing using the same amount of matter. Whatever it scans is slowly consumed by the process. The movement and orientation of its pupil indicates its processing status. It its hard to know how long it will take for something to be processed. It must remain perfectly still to complete processing. A red beam cast by its eyeball at a close range denotes the area it can scan, if it is interested in what it sees. Makes mechanical zirpy scanner noises. As the beam passes over its target, the target is decayed with each pass. If it is disturbed or its line of sight is broken during processing, the process is canceled and the items generated and decomposed are respectively left as-is, in whatever state of decay and generation it had reached. Its body is the size of a large fowl, but its legs can grow to whatever size is needed for it to get a good scanning angle. Goes for dead things, with the hope that the thing will live to die and be eaten again. Won't go for living things; they move too much, on a minute scale. And its a reverse-carnivore, so it won't go for plants or inorganic things.

Metageographical creature. Wherever it is, it's in the northwest of there. Eyes sparkle with fizzy bubbles, which are actually its digestive juices at work on whatever it's munching. Visible light spectrum charges its digestive fluid. Climbs to the highest point nearby to get as much light as possible in its eyes to help it digest. Munches on the things other creatures won't eat, especially weird mushrooms that otherwise go untouched.

Makes everything around him happy to avoid being eaten. Waves of good vibes. Some silly visuals like rainbows and sparkles in the air; rose colored glasses. Just a little pick-me-up feeling. A source of contentedness, making whatever was pursuing it feel less of a need to do so. Only works if it feels safe and as though it could leave at any time. it must be cared for with some attentiveness and feel like you both want it to be there. If you trap it, it becomes forlorn and stops producing the effect.

Suctions onto things with its head-tube and swings around. Hangs around in trees as though he is a fruit. Very easy to send into a panic. Flaps its little head-wing-things when it panics, creating a white-noise sound that soothes it. Tongue is like a sticky hand that absorbs the sourness out of things. Put one in a lemon tree and all the lemon trees will be sweet. Danger to no one (besides sourdough)

The ridges on its back are translucent. These panes of ope-glass can be peered through to see things differently: things that one might pick up intuitively are laid plain. The phone rings before it's about to ring, the bad guy's true colors show through. It grants more information than one would normally glean without keen intuition. A monocle of ope-glass is the tool of the shrewd. Can traverse various terrain with his many legs, but tends to be slow, attentive, affectionate, thoughtful. Mates for life and makes close friends. Very strong intuition. Makes it hard to encounter them on purpose, and especially to hunt them. Molts occasionally, granting the opportunity to collect ope-glass. Molts from around the eye-holes, dev decided.

It extracts your aura from your spinal fluid. Its bulb glows brighter the more power it amasses. Its victims are left rizzless, devoid of social credit. When its light dims, it hunts in pure darkness. In the darkness, when you see the glow growing brighter, you know what is happening. It hunts its victims based on their charisma (does it scroll tiktok?)
As you peer into the darkness, trying to perceive what is dimly gazing at you. Its eyes glow brighter as it draws nearer, and before you know it you are face to face. By the time you realize, you are paralyzed by its gaze, and can only watch in horror as it slides its tongue down your throat to traverse your insides in horrific detail.
It's rare, so its horns are a prize. But the only time it is vulnerable enough to be hunted is after it has fed, when it is lethargic and glowing brightly. Those who hunt it must be the kind who wouldn't intervene to save its victim.
Lures you into the forest to suckle on your spine.

The wild kjork is more dangerous than it looks. It takes flight by bouncing on its rubbery bottom, and flutter-gliding to its destination, folding in its wings to gain sudden speed. Surprisingly aggressive. One of these won't kill you, but a group of them can if you're not expecting it. An ambush of kjork nestles itself in trees and bushes and eaves and other secluded high-ground. They lay in wait to dive-bomb an unsuspecting target in chaotic unity.

Creates a funhouse-mirror effect that messes with perspective. You can't tell how close he or his crazy tail actually are to you, and you probably won't figure it out until it's gnawing on your arm. It's hard to tell how big or small it is while it's hunting you, and his size will work out just fine for whatever he's eating; but if you find one asleep it's about the size of a cat. Uncanny, clever little things.

Scuttles in the sand, closing up to protect its eyes when it burrows to hide or sleep. Whips its rubbery mouth-stalk around to attack. If you get one by the tail before it whips you, it's good eating. Makes a nasty squeal when you pull it out. Awful on the shins. About football size.

They're xymboiotic (when they produce something, they need to make it in a way that the creatures around it want what it produces. in this case, it wants to make the kind of seasoning you a) need minerally or b) want flavorally). Its fluffy tail has a static charge that catches various types of dust and pollen that form a special kind of seasoning and inadvertently pollenates things. Ridiculously wall-eyed and can't hold its eyes straight to focus on something for long before giving up. Makes a long buzzing meowing sound when it stares "at" you. Needs to be let out to do its thing, but it will want to come back to you try to give you what you want; forms a bond. Size of a budgie. "Insectoid cat" of record.

Forest parasite. Connects to the forest's root and mycelium network. Leaches the life from and slowly replaces the forest with itself, mutating all the forest life into a spliced part of itself. An entire effelwold can fly, or pieces can break off and fly away to propagate or escape remediation. An effelwold forest, or 'hungering forest', is a terrifying thing to stumble into. A branch of its root-claws will come out of nowhere, pinning you into the soil until you perish and decay. This slowly happens to all life in the forest; once it is fully consumed and there is no life left to turn into fertilizer, it will uproot and fly away in search of new food. It can take generations to even notice the presence of the effelwold, but by the time you realize, it's a world-ending phenomenon. When it's under threat, such as fire or other attack, it makes an uncanny rolling, creaking lingual sound that isn't a language but sure sounds like one.

Don't follow the rickabaubles! Rickabob attaches semi-permanently to a solid surface, like a rock face or large creature, and sends its baubles out to lure prey back to it. Its pincer mouth opens deeper and wider than you would think, and it drags its victim into itself, closing up over its mandibles. The baubles fascinate curious creatures into following them, particularly effective on those that haven't seen where they come from, but an experienced human adult might not be so taken.

Garden decor. Plant creature. When you look into its hole, what you see is unique to you and conveys a minor prophecy. Paranoid collectors might cultivate a garden full of many of them, trying to collect and cross-reference many of the prophecies to try to tell the future. This is almost certain to drive someone crazy. Its leaves also make a lovely tea. The tea leaves might even pass you a message! Fortune cookie garden gnome.

Spins with incredible speed. Its eyes fly out to the sides as it does so, and it derives great joy from this. You can juice anything in here. Bet you didn't even know that everything has juice. It is so happy to juice things that whatever juice it gives you will be infused with happiness. This creature is xymbiotic, and as such it wants to produce juice that the creatures around it would like. It's still incredibly dangerous, especially given that you're a likely ingredient in someone else's perfect juice. A young one juices rather indiscriminately, but as it grows and encounters other creatures it develops xymbiotic bonds and settles down to juice the things they want. They'll grow to the size it takes to satisfy the desires of their xymbiote. Makes a loud grinding noise.