Paginea is a dreamy, elusive creature that delights in becoming lost within tales of imagined worlds. It moves slowly and deliberately, using long, angular, hook-like appendages that grow in number and complexity as it ages. Though it has human-like arms and legs, these are rarely used—almost vestigial, as if left behind from a life it no longer remembers.
What the Paginea eats—or whether it needs sustenance at all—remains a mystery. Some believe it feeds on stories themselves, absorbing meaning and memory from the books it brushes against or the whispered words of readers nearby.
When undisturbed, the Paginea can often be found curled into quiet corners, humming softly in a language that sounds like rustling paper. At times, faint lines of text appear across its body—fragments of tales it has dreamed or devoured. These markings fade with time, only to be replaced by new ones as it continues its endless wandering through the world of stories.
