An Alice's Artistic Adventure

//Dedicated to that poor anon I bullied all those months ago.
//From "There aren't even any loose gems lying about, and just when you're about to call this trip a total loss, a low, scuttling drone crawls into your ears and [if (isgoo) {across your slime|down your spine}]."

However, the fight you're preparing for doesn't come; as you push aside the thick brush, you're treated to the sight of a large, leafy mass gently undulating in an otherwise empty clearing. With a start, you realize that it's a tentacle beast, though it seems to be sleeping, or at least whatever the equivalent is for them. The enormous creature's tendrils lie still at its sides, and it appears to have curled itself up in a defensive position.

You're just considering how to proceed when you notice something further—the hulking monstrosity, so terrible in its waking hunts, is currently covered in bizarre green lines that loop and whirl around its entire body. In fact, they seem to be drawings, as you belatedly realize. Some are just patterns, but there's also a little circle with a line through it—some kind of warning? But the next one looks a bit like a banana, and the one next to it is definitely [i:some] sort of fruit.

They're all incredibly crude, and you're struck by the impression that this is something [if (ischild) {you might have drawn, if you were still back in Ingnam|one of the village children back in Ingnam might have drawn}]. You're curious as to who would even consider doing such a thing, but not for long, as it's then that an Alice rounds the back of the beast, carrying a small pail.

The little demon appears to be humming away without a care in the world, a devilish smirk on her face as she smears green paint all over the monster. Her hand is guided by pure whimsy, and you're swept up by the sheer childlike joy in her motions. She certainly doesn't look like the ruthless demon you know her to be, though the shape currently forming on her canvas doesn't look very innocent.

You almost can't believe your eyes—it's like you've seeing a scene from another world, one far less cruel than Mareth, but this is impression is soon shattered when after an inopportune giggle, a low groaning sound rings throughout the clearing. The Alice stumbles back with a cry as tentacles whip about above, the creature clearly unhappy with this rude awakening.

Its attentions soon focus on the girl, who looks up at it with dazed fear, though you can see the hint of a blush creeping onto her cheeks. It seems that the demoness has gotten herself in a bit of a bind. You could intervene here, or continue watching, if it suits you.