The Arboreal Land Octopus is said to be an urban legend or at best a cryptid.

It’s said to be closely related to it’s oceanic counterparts save some critical evolutionary diversions.

One would think the Arboreal Land Octopus would evolve authentic lungs and carry oxegynated blood to match. Instead, it has evolved vestigial lungs that serve no practical purpose as it managed to exist without the need for respiration.

It does bleed, but it’s blood is of a thicker substance than that of humans. It also bleeds a deep shade of violet rather than the expected red or blue.

The Arboreal Land Octopus is a very curious creature. It’ll thoroughly examine anything it can get it’s tentacles on. Tasting with its suckers.

Though it often finds itself up in trees, its known to have issues with heights. As in, it can go up, but struggles to get back down. It could easily fall from the tree and land on its tendrils, but it hesitates with every descent.

The Arboreal Land Octopus is carnivorous. It will occasionally consume fruits and vegetation, but its primary source of nutrients is meat.

Sometimes its willing to hunt, but more often than not it simply lies in wait for something to tread too close. Its barely hidden among the branches and yet it still finds easy prey and remains well fed.

“Jeron for the love of God help me down from here!”

The Arboreal Land Octopus is also very loud when it wants to be. Despite its size it can move in deft silence or lumbering stomps. It makes noises from its mouth hole when it needs to communicate.

“You know I hate heights…”

It protests when up in high branches, yet spends much of its time gliding through the air on tentacle-powered propulsion. It doesn’t fly, more glides and falls with style, but it does spend much of its days airborne.

“Whatever you’re writing stop.”

For some reason, it struggles with going down when in a staionary position, for example, from up in a tree.

“This isn’t funny.”

“Sylus, you put yourself up there, you can get yourself back down.”

“Can I?”

“Just drop down.”

“It’s not that easy!”

“Yes it is.”

The weight of the Arboreal Land Octopus causes the branches beneath it to creak and bend.

“Jeron!”

I bring my guitar around front and play a simple song placing a bubble beneath Sylus.

With a sigh, he releases his branch and lands unceremoniously onto my bubble.

The Arboreal Land Octopus has safely descending from its verdant perch.

“What are you even writing?” He struggles to squirm off the bubble.

I play a note, popping the bubble.

The Arboreal Land Octopus lands on its substantial haunches.

“Christ.” He hissed. “What’s so damn funny?” He stood up, rubbing his backside.

I closed my journal and smirked. “You.”