"They can extend up to twenty-four feet," Otto replies with a nod towards the actuators. "This is just fine."

Having such a long reach had been a bit unnecessary for their original purpose. In all honesty, a good part of it had just been to see how far he could get them to go. But it's proven incredibly useful in daily life. One of the tentacles stretches out over the water, reaching down to carefully pluck the selkie up in its claw.

At least their affliction means they don't struggle. It's easy to bring them back to the boat and lay them down in the raft, without dripping contaminated water on any of the passengers.

Otto leans forward to peer at the selkie, brows furrowed in concern. Their fur is slick and dappled with rainbows; it's like oil on water, save that it's still moving even when the selkie themself is still. "You speak their language?" he asks, reaching for a towel to help dry them off. It might be safer to use an actuator, but that feels terribly impersonal; he's gloved and covered, it should be alright.