One of several creatures in this ever baffling universe to be (somewhat lazily) named for the very three things that happen to you, in sequence, upon their sighting in the wild. The Awwnipow, therefore, is both fascinating and painful in equal measure.
Indeed, they have, over the years, contributed greatly to my own, by now infamous, red nose (yes, it is the Awwnipow to blame, my dears, and not, as suggested, the continued misuse of Kontagion UberBrandy...), not to mention the occasional sore finger, etc.
In sheer cuteness they are second only to the Ahhhhh-Panda, and would, perhaps, be yet more beloved than that fair beast were it not for their inevitable attacks upon one’s person.
More or less spherical and commonly between 8 and 14 inches in diameter, the “fur” of the Awwnipow is so soft that anyone fortunate enough to be able to stroke a sedated specimen is given the impression that their hand has entirely disappeared! – not, as it may sound, an unpleasant experience at all.
Further to this, the hue of said “fur” has developed the ability to Feng Shui its environment from moment to moment and then attain the perfect complimentary shade; ever changing, ever beautiful! Finally, add a pair of the largest, roundest, most demur and compassionate eyes peeping out at you and, well... precisely!
By a twist of fate which is becoming increasingly familiar in my studies, the evolution of this creature has decided that the one noise almost certain to escape your lips the moment you spot it is the one noise that sends spasms of pure torture from the tiny creatures’ aural receptors staright into its nervous system, and hence immediately sending it into attack mode, targeting the aggressors’ most outreaching bodily protuberance with its hidden “beak” in the manner of a rabid budgie hiding in a neon afro!
The resulting nip is very rarely fatal, but nonetheless sharp enough to cause mild annoyance and a very predictable vocal response. The good news is that once nipped the creature will almost certainly fall asleep and drop softly to the floor.
Real danger only occurs when confronted with more than a few at any one time. A comic death by repetition may then only be avoided by demonstrations of true self-control.
Widespread throughout the universe, they are often kept in cages, as pets, by a variety of larger, less-soft species. Most notably, the Rintal-Hooms of Dorian Epsilon, who use several at once as mood lighting at parties; and the Deviensai of Perversia Major, who, as we know, will do anything for a cheap thrill, and whose practices I am not about to validate with detailed explanation in this book.
Status: To be respected. Never patronised.
Rating: Uncommonly Common.
Right Thing to Say Should You Ever Meet One: Anything but “Aww” (although you won’t be able to!)