The tide was low, the rocks slick with seaweed, when the cat stepped too close to the water’s edge.
At first, there was only silence… then movement.
From a dark crack in the rocks, something ancient surged forward. Cold arms wrapped around fur in an instant. The octopus tightened its grip, pulling the cat toward the sea, toward a place it would never escape.
The cat screamed. Claws scraped uselessly against stone.
Seconds stretched. Hope faded.
Then—out of nowhere—a blur of tan and white charged in. Short legs. Loud bark. A Corgi.
Without hesitation, the dog lunged, snapping at the twisting arms. Startled, the octopus loosened its hold for just a heartbeat—long enough.
The cat tore free, scrambling onto dry rock as the creature vanished back into the black water.
The shore fell silent again.
One cat alive.
One Corgi standing guard.
Not all heroes come from the ocean.
Some come running.