Abigail. You taste the name, your new knowledge of the mortal tongue telling you nothing of great importance about it. Perhaps the mortals just name themselves after whatever sound they like most.

Your summoner is a small thing, a human tadpole or whatever they call their young, with brown fur... hair tied in a bun over her head. She has spectacles, big round bits of glass perched on the very end of a tiny nose. They make her eyes look wider than they are as she gazes right back at you.

“Daphne,” she says, and for a moment you are confused, but then the other mortal, the one you had nearly forgotten about, moves away from the wall with cautious steps. “Daph, I think it worked?”

“Yeah,” the Daphne girl agrees. “But what did you summon?”

That is a foolish question. You are you, that much is obvious. But perhaps these mortals don’t know as much. They are terribly short-lived after all.

Abigail turns back to you and her mouth twitches up,the corners of her eyes creasing up in a strange way. “Ah, my name’s Abigail, like I said. Do you have a name? W-what are you?”

Giving her a name is the least you could do, of course. You take a deep breath, filling the sacks in your chest until they’re about to burst, then you let it all out in one long wail. Your vocal chords aren’t made for the kinds of twists and turns and variations that would be proper in speaking your Name, but you try your best with the faulty equipment you have.

Abigail and Daphne slap their hands over their ears and wince back until you run out of air. You take another deep breath, ready to continue where you left off. That wasn’t even the start of your True Name, merely the precursor titles.

“I’m sorry!” Abigail wails. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, you don’t need to cry,” she says before walking right up to you where you still hang off the floor. She reaches out to you with her arms like grasping, bony tentacles and pulls you against her chest.

You are insulted. Infuriated! How dare this, this mortal tentacle-grab you as if... actually it’s rather pleasant. Nice and warm. You can feel your summoner’s breathing, her little heart thumping away in her chest.

Of course, it wouldn’t do not to return the favour before you start in on the questions. It’s just proper etiquette when a creature wraps you in its tentacles to wrap them back.

You aren’t doing it because it makes you feel nice to cuddle your summoner. Of course not. You have more self control than that.

Abigail squeaks as you wrap her up in layers and layers of tentacular glory. It is probably a squeak of happiness, her teeth are certainly bared as you lift her off the ground. “Your cuddle was appreciated,” you say. “I shall return the favour tenfold.”

“Um,” Daphne says. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” You disagree, but you do leave Abigail's head uncovered. It’s not a prober cuddle this way, but at least she can still breathe, which is important for living and talking, two things you wish for her to continue doing.

“Foolish mortal,” you reprimand. “Cuddles are always appropriate recompense for services rendered. Now, if you do not appreciate my true name, then I shall translate it into your meat flapping language.” You feel the muscles in your brow contracting as you concentrate. “I am That Which Dreams Eternal Between Space and Time.”

Daphne closes her eyes slowly. “I think we’ll call you Dream, it’s a pretty enough name,” she says.

You don’t particularly care what they call you. “Summoner Abigail, why did you call upon me? Why did you dare awaken me from my Eternal Slumber?”

You realize after a moment’s silence that maybe your summoner’s face shouldn’t be that red and that maybe you’re cuddling her too hard. You let go, and she lands with a gasp on the hard packed ground a moment before Daphne moves over to her to help her up. It is obvious that she too, has difficulty with the whole walking thing.

“Some sort of mimic, maybe?” Daphne mutters. “It’s obviously magical, so you lucked out there.”

Abigail makes a snorting noise that you can’t translate and hugs her friend closer. “But we did it!” she says, the red fading to be replaced by an expression that shows off all of her teeth. She turns shining eyes onto you. “I summoned you because I need a Familiar, someone to help me, and who I can cherish and love and care for until we’re both really old.”

You see Daphne rolling her eyes behind Abigail. “She needs a Familiar to enter the Academy. It’s part of the entrance requirements.”

“That too,” Abigail says. “But I want a friend first. So, can we be friends, Dreamer?”

You are quite speechless. This tadpole has summoned you to be friends? Cuddle buddies? Tentacle pals? How foolish!